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tala-bez-i · 6 months ago

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At first sight Chapter Nine

(m!reader x Bonten!Haruchiyo Sanzu)

Fluff/slash/reader is male/cursing/BontenTimeline/drugs and alcohol mentioned/violence/blood/death

All characters that appeared in the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime belong to Ken Wakui.

Words: 3318

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It had been raining for a good two hours now, making you feel more and more sleepy. You wanted to talk to Takeomi today and ask Rosie a few questions, but a small voice in your head was whispering to you to give up for today, that it was time to go to sleep.

You stood up from behind your desk and left your bedroom, heading towards the gang advisor's office. You liked talking to a man 10 years older than you, even though Sanzu told you many times not to get involved with him. You knew the difficult relationship between them, and you didn't want to let it go. Sanzu could give you various orders, but you were as stubborn as he was, and you had no intention of following this particular one.

You often had the impression that the pink-haired man knew this very well and, despite his frustration, accepted it. Or at least it seemed that way for now...

You stopped for a moment outside Takeomi's office door and listened. If Rosie was inside, you didn't want to catch them doing anything. You heard that one time Ran walked in and found Akashi up to his balls in the whore. You didn't mind this type of situations with Haru, but you preferred not to see his older brother in a similar situation. Especially if it was about Rosie.

You didn't hear any suspicious-sounding activity, so you knocked on the door. You immediately heard a man's voice telling you to get inside. You opened the door and the first thing you noticed was the strong smell of cigarettes. The guy smoked them as if he was in a hurry to get to the next world.

“Ah, it's you Y/n. Come in, come in.” Takeomi gestured to you. His fingers were decorated with rings and signet rings, brazenly showing that he was not a poor man. “Sit down, please.”

You sat down in the chair in front of his elegant desk and Takeomi placed a new cigarette in his mouth, lighting it from the still glowing butt. “Nasty weather, isn't it?”

"May be. I like rain.” You replied calmly and the man laughed, blowing smoke from his mouth.

“You haven't visited me in a long time. Sanzu must have kept you on a tight leash, hmm?”

“You could put it that way.”

“Any progress on the case?” He looked at you with interest.

“Yes, you could say that. I know Kisaki forwarded this case to me, but recently it turned out that it was just the part that Kakucho handled.”

“Oh... Yeah. I know that." He shrugged. “If it moved on, it was a good idea.”

You looked at him in silence for a moment and the man smiled again before taking a long drag on his cigarette. “I understand you brought Kakucho back into the case, correct?”

“Yes, yes, it's true.” You nodded, slightly confused. “I also started working with Mochi. He had the rest of the reports and came up with some leads as well.”

"Very good. I didn’t expect anything less from you, Y/n.” He made a note on his calendar, the smile still on his face.

“We have a boy here who works for Akira. He revealed a lot of information to us.” You added and Takeomi froze, his smile shrinking.

He looked up and blinked several times. "What?"

“I said we have a boy here from…”

“Wait, what was his name?...Yata?” The man interrupted you and put a cigarette in his mouth before scratching his face near the large scar and shrugging slightly. “I guess that's good... As long as Akira doesn't look for him....”

“Akira knows I took him.”

"What? Have you talked to Akira?” Akashi was surprised.

“No. He must have been watching us from the window of his building. He saw Yata get into my car and after a while we drove away. He recognized me and contacted Sanzu..."

“Haruchiyo? Why would he contact him?” Takeomi frowned and reached for a pack of cigarettes that was lying on the desk. It turned out to be empty, so he crumpled it up and threw it in the trash.

“I think everyone knows I follow him around like a dog.” You shrugged, watching the older man rummage through his desk drawers for a new pack of cigarettes.

He cursed quietly as he got up from the chair and went to the hanger where his coat was and took out cigarettes from one of the pockets, then returned to his seat.

“Okay. I see." He put out the cigarette but didn't take out another one. “So, when will you release him? Are you going to kill him?”

“We won't give him back to that son of a bitch. Yata goes to Madarame.” You said, watching the man's strong hands. He kept them on the desk, but with each small movement one of his hands came closer to the pack of cigarettes.

"That's good. I always thought the young man came to the wrong place.” He sighed and looked at you with a serious face. "So? You didn't come to me just to give me this information. Do you have any questions?”

“It's basically one thing.” I have a few... What are your plans for Rosie? “Do you know Nagano?”

“Ah, Hideki Nagano... Yes, I know him.” He said, grabbed a pack of cigarettes and pulled out a cigarette, but didn't put it in his mouth. You were sure it wouldn't be 5 seconds before he inhaled the smoke again. Terrible addiction. “Mochi mentioned him and another one, Jin Nagasawa.” He laughed darkly and lit the lighter. “Three top pimps scheming in the backroom of Bonten.”

You stared for a moment at the blue ribbon flying from the glowing end of the cigarette. "Unfortunately. I need to find one man who works with him. Yata said it would be worth trying to talk to him.”

"Yes? Who is this about?"

“Do you know anyone called Yuu?”

“Yuu?” Takeomi repeated and leaned back in his chair. “Yuu… Working for Nagano… Hmm…” He took a drag on his cigarette and exhaled slowly, thinking. "I think so. I'm not 100% sure, but I have a feeling that this Yuu... is Uchiyama. I can't remember the name."

Uchiyama... You've heard this name somewhere before...

“Try talking to Rosie.” Said the advisor and smiled. “The pretty girl has worked for more than one pimp, maybe she will know something more. The girls trust her.”

The corner of your mouth involuntarily turned up and you nodded. “That was my intention, but I wanted to ask you first.”

“Oh? For what reason?"

“Because of the girls you used to sleep with.” You shrugged slightly. “Everyone knows you preferred them from Nagano.”

The man laughed loudly and sincerely. "True, true. Oh, Y/n…” He shook his head, amused. “How are things going with my wonderful brother? Do you work well together?”

You weren't expecting this question now, even though it came from Takeomi four times a year. You bit the inside of your cheek lightly and shrugged again.

"It's good..."

"Really?"

"Yes. We cooperate, freak out and watch each other's backs... The latter can be considered suspended for now.” Takeomi took another drag and looked intently into your eyes as he exhaled. The last time he looked at you in such a piercing way was many years ago. That was the first time he saw you with his little brother.

“Y/n... You're fine but be careful what you do or say. You know how Haru is.” He said quietly and you nodded.

"Mikey is as important to me as he is to Sanzu... I will not betray him..."

“Mikey is like a king to Sanzu. You are like a dog.” He interrupted you while you were speaking. “For him, our leader comes first and always will. Remember this and respect it and it won't hurt anyone. And you will live.”

You looked at the man in silence, taking his statement apart. He was right, although deep down you hoped that over time you would become as important to the pink-haired man as he was to you. You knew you couldn't handle being rejected again. Someone will die then, and even if it were you, you would take as many as you could with you. Just for others to have their hearts broken too...

“Hey, Y/n…” Takeomi's voice was softer this time. “Haruchiyo is more stubborn than a donkey and I regret the way I used to treat him. I know he'd jump at my throat the next chance he got, but Mikey still listens to my advice... Or at least some of it. He could use some tenderness. Let him see you as a human being, not a dog, as many call you here.”

"I do not mind. I'd rather be called a dog than a wild horse." You said calmly and Takeomi chuckled to himself.

“You're tired, Y/n. It's time for you. Wash, bead and go to bed. You can go." He waved you off and there was nothing left for you to do but get up and go back to your bedroom.

“Have a peaceful evening, Takeomi.” You looked at him, stopping in the doorway. He was lighting another cigarette.

"You also." He nodded and made another note on his calendar.

You closed the door behind you and walked down the hall. Somewhere in the distance you heard thunder, and the rain became heavier by the second, hitting the windows with redoubled force. Perfect sleeping weather.

As you passed by the stairs, you saw Ran and Rindou brushing off the raindrops from their jackets and trousers.

“You've gotten a bit carried away.” You greeted them and Ran smiled at you.

“We had to ask around in several places, but we managed to get some information.”

You put your hands in your pockets and looked around...

“Sanzu rushed towards the bedroom first. Didn't you hear him swearing on the way?" Said the older brother.

“No…” You were surprised and winced slightly. “Did he get very wet?”

Ran laughed, running his fingers through his damp hair. “Rindou pushed him under a leaky gutter.”

Rindou smirked and took off his jacket, which he slung over his shoulder. "The pleasure is all mine. Good luck, Y/n.”

They walked past you and towards their bedrooms, and Ran wished you good night in an amused tone.

“Shit, not that again…” You muttered and continued towards your room.

The closer you were to your goal, the more clearly you heard the curses coming from the pink-haired man's mouth. He didn't go to his bedroom, but to yours.

You went inside and looked around. One of the nightstands next to the bed was open and there was a mess on the desk that you were sure you hadn't made. Someone was looking for something in it.

You sighed, closed the door and headed towards the bathroom.

“Haruchiyo?” You called out quietly, looking inside.

There were several towels thrown from the cabinet on the floor, and a completely soaked man was leaning against the sink. His hair was a complete mess and stuck to his face and neck. He held an open pill bottle in one hand.

“Haru?” You went inside but didn't come any closer.

This time he responded to the name you said and lifted his head to look at you from the mirror. He was angry, very angry. You stood in silence, waiting for him to speak.

“I'll kill them one day.” He said, trying to make his voice sound happier, but he was shaking too much.

“I heard about that stupid joke…” You looked down and noticed that Sanzu was standing on the bare tiles, completely barefoot. “You'll catch a cold. At least stand on the rug.”

"I do not care." He growled and poured three pills into his hand, which he immediately swallowed without any problems. “Stupid fucking joke. Funny as hell.”

You hesitated for a split second, but went into the bathroom and grabbed one of the towels that were left from the cabinet. “I'll run you a bath…”

“Am I not wet enough?” He asked you coldly, turning to face you.

You gave him a quick glance and placed a towel on a low stool before running hot water into the tub. “Lavender or rose?”

Sanzu stood silently for a moment, throwing daggers from his eyes at you, but after a while he sighed and began to unbutton his shirt. “Lavender, please.” His voice was quiet, but still filled with anger.

You poured some oil into the water and made foam as usual. You stood up and walked past the half-naked man out of the bathroom. “I'll get you some clean underwear.”

When you entered the bathroom again, Sanzu was already sitting in the tub, the water running for a while before turning it off. He leaned back against the edge of the bathtub and let out a long sigh.

“They're going to finish me off one day.” He said quietly, looking up.

You sat down next to the tub and leaned on your hand, just like Rosie did the night before.

“You know what they are like. They have to tease someone every once in a while.”

“And that someone always has to be me, hmm?” Sanzu muttered, looking at you.

How much did you took today?

“I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you.” You said quietly and the man shook his head.

"You have nothing to apologize for. I should have known better, I let my guard down.” He reached for a sponge and started washing himself. You watched his movements for a moment, admiring how his muscles worked under his fair skin. Suddenly he turned his head towards you and his hands stopped moving. “Why are you watching me like that, huh?”

“Because I like looking at you.” You said honestly and brushed the wet hair from his forehead. “It calms me down.”

“You're crazy.” He mumbled and resumed the washing process. “And perverted.”

“I'm not crazier than you... And you're the one who often parades around naked in front of me, so who's perverted here?”

“I can walk around with my ass bare whenever I want, wherever I want, and you don't have to stare.”

“It's not my fault it's something to look at.” You shrugged and Sanzu splashed water on you. He looked at you defiantly, so you stood up and, placing your hands on his bare shoulders, pushed him under the water.

You released him almost immediately and Haru quickly sat back down, sputtering water. “You really... *cough* are going to get beat today! *cough* I'll kick your ass! You'll see, L/n!”

You grabbed the shampoo bottle and poured little bit into your hand before starting to wash the angry man's hair.

"Anything you want." You said calmly, gently rubbing his scalp.

Sanzu grumbled something else under his breath, but you couldn't understand his words. You left the lather on his head and started massaging his neck and shoulders, which made Sanzu go silent and start to relax again.

"You are horrible." He hummed softly and you picked up the shower head.

"Close your eyes." He obeyed you and you rinsed the shampoo from his hair. You applied some more conditioner and after a while you started drying his hair with a towel.

Sanzu's eyelids fluttered open and his dilated pupils immediately found yours. The drugs didn't seem to have stimulated him as much as usual, so apparently whatever he had hidden in your bathroom cabinet was having a calming effect. He was tired, very tired.

“Can you get out of the bathtub?” You asked quietly and the pink-haired man snorted.

"Of course I can. Who do you think I am, Y/n?” He stood up and carefully left the bathtub.

You handed him a new towel and he started drying himself with it. When he finished, he put on clean underwear and poked you in the chest with his finger. “Tonight I'm sleeping at your place. Stick to your side of the bed.”

“The whole bed is my side.” You said a little louder and he answered you from the bedroom.

"Not today."

You laughed to yourself and started cleaning up the mess the pink-haired man had made. You pulled his keys and wallet out of his soaked pants and placed them on the counter of the locker.

You drained the bathtub and took a quick shower after undressing.

Dressed in pajama pants and ready for bed, you turned off the bathroom light and returned to the bedroom. Sanzu was already lying under the sheets and yawning.

“Lock the door.” He said quietly and despite your surprise, you followed his instructions. You bypassed the bed and drew the curtains on the window, making the room dark, and the only source of light was the night lamp on the unoccupied side of the bed.

You slid under the sheets and looked up at the ceiling. This wasn't the first time you'd laid in bed next to Sanzu... But until now, the conditions were a little different. Usually, he was high and laced with alcohol, and you were almost completely drunk. But this time...

“How did you do today?” The man asked quietly.

“I brought Kakucho back into this case and started working with Mochi.”

"Seriously?" Sanzu lifted his head from the pillow to get a better look at you.

"Yes. I think we're on the right track. We already have three suspects. Including one… let's say confirmed.”

“Akira?” He asked, turning on his side and propping himself up on his hand.

You looked at him and nodded. “Akira.”

“Son of a bitch.” He muttered. “Almost nothing has moved for us.”

“So let me tell you something…” Sanzu turned his bright eyes on you. “Akira and Sato are connected. That bitch from the club… Akira sold her to Sato.”

Haruchiyo blinked a few times, perking up slightly. “You're talking nonsense, aren't you?”

"Nope. That's what Yata said. You know, the young one I brought here.”

“Do you trust him?”

“Kakucho and Mochi trust him.” You said and Sanzu nodded slightly.

“I will tell it to Ran and Rindou tomorrow.” He sighed and changed his position again, resting his head on the pillow.

There was silence for a while, so you turned off the lamp and closed your eyes, thinking that Sanzu had quickly fallen asleep. Sometimes it happened to him when he was on drugs.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, Haru?”

“How the fuck is it possible that your bed is more comfortable than mine?”

“Because I don't bring whores to mine as often as you do to yours.” You replied without thinking and the pink-haired man elbowed you in the ribs, knocking the air out of your lungs. “Fuck…”

“Mean bastard.” He grunted in annoyance, and you laughed softly. “And what are you laughing at, you idiot?”

"I love you." You said quietly and closed your eyes again. “Good night, Haru.”

He didn't answer you, but he moved, changing his position once again, and soon his longer hair tickled your chest and something warm and soft was pressed lightly to your lips. He kissed you...

Sanzu started to pull away, but you grabbed his neck and pulled him back to kiss him again. You could clearly hear a loud heartbeat and you weren't sure if it was yours or his. After a while, you let him pull away and lie down.

"Mean." He mumbled and turned his back to you, pulling the sheets almost to the top of his head. "Good night."

"Good night." Your voice was quiet, and you listened to his breathing, which mixed with the sounds of the rain that had calmed down. After a few minutes, you noticed that Sanzu had already fallen asleep... You closed your eyes and let sleep take over you too.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x y/n #male reader #tokyo revengers haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo sanzu x reader

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 2 years ago

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Ghost Story - Chapter 19

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 2807

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.

Notes: The chapters/large parts in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: In Between Fight Song

****

Maverick

He hated seeing Ghost upset. Whether she caused the problem or not, he could see the inner turmoil and hatred for herself in the eyes that reminded him so much of her mother. Maverick recognized the path Ghost had gone down mentally, for he'd been there more times than he cared to admit, especially when he'd damaged his relationship with Rooster. He would try his damndest to ensure she didn't go as far down that path as he had.

The pair strolled through the aisles at Home Depot, searching for a fleeting piece of hardware that continued to elude them. They also enjoyed looking- and mostly judging- all the paint colors and fixtures. Maverick pointed to a chandelier and asked, "What about that one?"

Ghost shook her head with a smile. "Unless Penny is going for a western saloon vibe, I'm going to say no."

"Hey, it's still better than the design option I offered for the office."

Ghost snorted. "If we talk to Penny later, I'm telling her we got the stuff to make it," she said, her gaze grazing over the other options. She shifted her attention to Maverick and added, "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Don't take this the wrong way because I don't want to sound ungrateful. You have no idea how appreciative I am of everything you've been doing for me, but why invite me today and not Rooster? It's just... judging from what Rooster's told me all these years, you were desperate to make amends with him. Now that you two have reconciled, I'd think you would want to spend as much time with him as you can."

Maverick stopped the cart and faced Ghost. "A few reasons. First and foremost, I enjoy spending time with you. Rooster told me a lot about you, and I like getting to know the girl who was there for him when I couldn't be. Second, you're the only person Penny trusts to accompany me on these outings because I make bad decorating decisions when left unsupervised," he said, grabbing a box of outdoor lamps and placing them in the cart. Ghost picked them up and put them back on the shelf, taking the box next to it of the lights Penny had actually requested. "See? Case in point. And third, I did invite Rooster today, but when I told him I was inviting you, he declined, and I can assure you it's not for the reason you're thinking."

Maverick had seen the subtle crestfallen expression flicker on Ghost's face. He added, "Rooster figured you wouldn't come if you knew he was, and as much as he wants to see you, he recognizes you don't want to see him."

Ghost hung her head, blonde hair falling down and shielding her eyes from view. Still, she spoke. "It's not that I don't want to see him. I miss him terribly. I'm just afraid if we talk, it'll turn into another argument, and I can't deal with another argument with him while I have this mission to focus on."

"I understand pushing him away, I do, but why everyone else?"

"Because it's easier, and I don't risk messing up any other friendships or getting myself even more hurt in the process. And like I said, I have a mission to focus on, and I can't distract myself from it."

"Why haven't you tried pushing me away?"

"Because you won't let me," Ghost said, offering a small yet appreciative smile. It was true. When he showed up on her doorstep earlier in the morning, it'd been unannounced. Ghost had answered the door in her pajamas, clearly startled by his presence but eager to join him once he stated why he was there. "I'm not complaining by any means, though. How is Rooster doing?"

"As best he can. Between your argument and Bryn breaking up with him, he's hanging in there and trying to fix it. How that's going is debatable."

"Has he been able to get a hold of her at all?"

"Not that I know of."

Ghost grimaced. "It's not his fault, though. I'm the one she should blame, not him. He didn't lie to her."

"I think she sees him not telling her as lying by omission," Maverick remarked, grabbing some nails and screws and tossing them into the cart. Noticing Ghost's change in demeanor, he chose to shift topics, not wanting her to think about her problems any more than she already did. "So, what are your plans to beat the rest of the pilots at the tournament?"

"Truthfully, I've been winging it most of the time. Boomer's relented a little since I told him about Twister and Robin, but he's bound to come after me again sooner or later. Hollywood has my back for now, but I'm nervous about facing him if it comes down to the two of us. He's the best of the best for stealth pilots and got considered for this mission for a reason. He's my biggest competitor. Besides being my only friend in that group, I've also had him as my wingman, so I can learn his tactics and use them against him. He's probably doing the same to me, but as Rooster once put it, I'm predictable in my unpredictability, so Hollywood will know I'll pull some crazy shit to try and win, but he most likely won't know what. To be honest, I'm as surprised as everyone else by what I do half the time. I simply follow my instinct and hope it works out. It's never let me down before."

"Predictable in your unpredictability. I like that."

"Yeah, I did, too, although I think he originally meant it as an insult."

"Why did you two not get along in the beginning again?"

"I was 'dangerous and reckless' according to him, and I thought he was 'safe and conservative.' Turns out we were both semi-wrong and semi-right. He's safe but not conservative. Not anymore, at least. I'm dangerous, but only to my enemies. And I'm not reckless. He once told me I reminded him of you."

Maverick chuckled. "Another reason he didn't like you, I bet."

"Maybe..." Ghost's contemplative features softened. "Hey, you know Rooster never hated you, right? He hated what you did, but not you. He sees you as his dad, loves you like a dad. No matter what happened between you two, he never lost those feelings."

"How do you know that?" Maverick inquired skeptically. He'd been on the receiving end of Rooster's anger, and the words that spewed from the young aviator's mouth the day they had their face-off in the common room shattered his heart. Maverick found it hard to believe Rooster never hated him as a person.

"Because I remember dozens upon dozens of nights throughout the years where I sat next to him while his finger hovered over the call button on your name."

"Why'd he never do it?"

"Unfortunately, that's my fault... he'd always been drinking when he considered calling you, and as nostalgic as Rooster was about missing you, I warned him not to call you unless he was ready to face what you did again. I've seen his anger, and I didn't want him to say something to you that might make things worse between you two. I wasn't sure that was possible, but I also didn't want to find out. Of course, all that bottled-up anger had to explode sometime, so in hindsight, I'm wondering if I gave him the best advice..."

"Oh, it exploded, but I believe it would've happened regardless of your advice. We're good now, though, and that's all that matters."

Ghost nodded, but she didn't seem wholly convinced by his words. "I still can't believe you two stole an F-14 right under the enemy's nose. How did you two just walk onto the base?!"

"A hole in the fence, some damaged roadways and runways blocking them from getting to us once they did realize we were in the plane, and sheer dumb luck," Maverick admitted, thinking back to that chaotic day, the rollercoaster of emotions he experienced - from the fatherly instinct to protect his son and take the missile for him, the terror seeing his son get shot down trying to protect him in return, the relief seeing his son alive, the anger at his son for disobeying orders and not returning to the carrier, the nerve-wracking exhilaration of stealing the plane and fighting the two fifth-generation enemy pilots, to the panic at nearly getting shot down, to the second wave of relief when Hangman saved them. Yeah, it'd been a day, and Maverick couldn't fathom how his hair hadn't turned gray from it all.

"Genuinely incredible. I can't even wrap my head around it. I swear if I tried something like that, the enemy would shoot me before I even stepped foot on base."

"Hey, Rooster says you remind him of me, so maybe you have my sheer dumb luck too!"

"Part of me wants to find out; the other part of me doesn't."

"Maybe you can find out in a way that doesn't involve being trapped in enemy territory."

Ghost let out a good-natured laugh, the first he'd heard all day. Suddenly seeming lighter and happier, she added, "Not sure how I'll find this out, but I do agree with you. All right, do we have everything?"

"I think so. Let's go check out. Want to grab lunch at the Hard Deck afterward?"

"I would love to, but I promised I'd FaceTime my mom at one. I don't want to explain to her who I'm having dinner with. Still haven't told her I know you because I don't want to open that can of worms."

"She's got to find out sometime, Ghost."

"I'll tell her after the mission, whether I win the tournament or not, because my participation in it will absolutely cause an argument, but I'll tell her you helped me get as far as I did."

"Hey, you're the one leading our charges, not me. You got there on your own," Maverick praised, patting her shoulder proudly. "Come on, let's check out and get you home."

The pair went to the register and purchased the items that nearly filled their cart to the brim. Ghost called Penny to tell them they were finished and on their way back, and that she was surprised Penny gave Maverick permission to build the 'whale' in the ceiling like he wanted. When the admiral's daughter protested vehemently, Ghost burst out laughing, immediately giving away the prank.

Maverick, pleased with how the day had ended for the outing and relieved to see Ghost in better spirits than when he picked her up, felt better about dropping her off. If she hadn't, he would've insisted they meet for dinner with Hollywood and Penny, anything to get out of her apartment and to temporarily stop thinking of the problems causing her to go on a mental downward spiral.

Ghost's cheerfulness evaporated in the blink of an eye when Maverick pulled up to her apartment. At first, he thought it was because the day was over, but then he followed Ghost's line of sight and noticed a strikingly familiar woman, but from where, he couldn't place.

"Who is that?" he asked, putting his Jeep in park.

Ghost sank into her seat. "My mom..."

"If you want to leave-"

"It's too late. She's already seen me. Don't worry, you can leave. You don't have to stay for this. I'll handle it."

Maverick should've left because the last time he and Charlie had seen each other, it'd been a blowout, knockout fight, but those hard feelings passed long ago for him. Maybe they had for her too. Plus, he hated to leave Ghost alone right now, especially when aware of the strained relationship between her and Charlie and that this meeting would most likely result in an argument for the two of them, the last thing Ghost needed.

"No, I'll join you. I've got your six."

Maverick winked at her, and Ghost smiled gratefully at him in return. They hopped out of his Jeep and strode up to Ghost's mom, meeting her on the sidewalk. Recognition flickered in her eyes. Upon their approach, she practically squeaked, "Maverick?"

"Charlie," he replied, nodding his head in polite greeting. He studied her features; it'd been almost thirty-one years since they last saw each other, and while her hair may have grayed and her face sported laugh lines and wrinkles, he still saw the fearlessness in her blue eyes that matched her daughter's. Whatever Admiral Winchester looked like, Ghost undoubtedly took after Charlie, only her face shape and mouth differing.

"I'd introduce you, but you two are already acquainted," Ghost said, clasping her hands. "What are you doing here, mom?"

"Two reasons: to check on you because you sounded so upset over the phone yesterday and-"

"I'm fine. Just friendship drama."

"It sounds like more than just drama."

"Seriously, it's fine. Besides, I have Maverick. He's been there for me through it all and is watching out for me."

Charlie's face softened ever so slightly. "That's nice of him."

"Yeah, he and Penny have made me feel really at home here these past few months."

The softness vanished. "You've known him for months?"

"Yeah. I didn't say anything because I know how you feel about him and his flying, and I figured you wouldn't like me being around him," Ghost said calmly yet matter-of-factly.

"Annalise, he's right th-"

"I know you don't like me, Charlie. Most people in the Navy don't," he joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. "I don't take it personally."

"What was the second reason you came here?" Ghost asked, recapturing her mom's attention.

"I came to talk to you about that blasted mission you're competing for. How did you even get picked for that?!" Charlie demanded, placing her hands on her hips.

"Because I'm a damn good stealth pilot, and the Navy recognizes that!"

"You're the least experienced one there! I don't understand why you were chosen for a mission of this caliber and intensity when you're still so young in your career. You're not ready for it!"

Ghost reddened underneath her makeup, and Maverick chose to give up the secret he'd been holding onto, not wanting to divulge it until absolutely necessary. "Because of me. Cyclone asked me to pick the twelve pilots from a large group to compete for the mission, and I chose Ghost as one of them."

"You did what?" Charlie asked, deceptively calm.

"She's in the tournament because of me. I've heard stories about her from Rooster and Hangman, and I've seen her file, the non-redacted version. She might not have years of experience like the others, but I've read about the missions she's been on and what she's accomplished, and I've seen what she's capable of first-hand. Ghost gives me a run for my money up there, Charlie, and that's saying something."

"That's what scares me, Maverick. She flies just like you and takes the same risks. One of these days, it will catch up to her, and I'm sorry for not wanting to lose my daughter and the only remaining family member I have left!"

Ghost crossed her arms. "Mom, I signed up for the Navy knowing any day might be my last. You can't hold me back in my career because of fear. This is my life. You have got to stop trying to interfere with it."

"As much as you have modeled your career and flying style after Maverick, you are not him, and believing in such a thing will get you killed."

Ghost responded with stony silence, shifting her attention to the ground, but Maverick glimpsed her pursed lips, clenched fists, and white knuckles, signs of composure hanging on by a single thread. Charlie, either not noticing or not caring, said, "Come on, Annalise. We need to-"

"No, we don't need to do anything. All you've done in the last five minutes is insult me and my career. Whatever we need to do can wait until tomorrow." Ghost, stoic and with a shockingly steady voice, turned to Maverick and asked, "Is that offer for lunch still available?"

"Of course," he responded, his gaze briefly flicking over to Charlie, who rapidly reddened with rage at her daughter's disobedience.

"Annalise, please, we need to talk," Charlie said pleadingly. "It's important."

"It can wait until tomorrow."

Without another word, Ghost turned on her heel and stormed toward Maverick's Jeep. He faced Charlie to say goodbye and offer some courtesy, but before he could open his mouth, she pointed an accusatory finger at him. With tears in her voice, she told him shakily, "If Annalise dies on this mission, her blood is on your hands."

****

Tags: @supernaturaldawning @shanimallina @polikszena @lgg5989 @callsign-milano @bradshawsandbridgetons @harper1666 @shadeops21 @double-j @copaceticwriter @rotating-obsessions @sharkprestige @thedarkinmansfield @lapilark @mickeyluvs @starshipfantasy @bennypears00 @mandowife221b @the-navistar-carol @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @carmellasworld @0hb0llocks @nicangelinee @summ3rlotus @3picklesinajar @magentamistress @the-other-hawkeye @elisha-chloe @emilymarie105 @persephone11110 @luckyladycreator2 @boogdleyboo @k0k3 @bibissparkles @lilmonstrjedi @stinkyrat09 @cocoag18 @suburbzchick @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @goodstuff28 @georgiasimpson95 @horselovers2016 @tanithpriad125 @davidshawnsown @sowolfstudentme @agagagfafa @callmemana

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

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amarantine-amirite · 1 year ago

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Wheels of Revelation

"What do you like about participating in the drama club, Polette?" Mr. Hayman asked me. His office was a quiet sanctuary, decorated with motivational posters and shelves lined with self-help books.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I never really thought about what I liked about drama club, all I knew was that it was something for me to do. "I don't know," I said.

Honestly, I thought I would've had a better experience than I did. On my first day there, we had a substitute teacher. He sent me home because he considered tampons "sex toys". I have no idea why he thought this. Under no circumstances can inserting a tampon ever be considered sexy. Putting a tampon in isn't straightforward. It involves cubicle yoga, messy hands, and numerous curse words as you realize you put it in crooked and you need to take it out and start over with a new one.

I tried to go over his head, but the student ombudsman, and the superintendent of the district refused to handle the case because of how much waste tampons create. In fact, the superintendent's email pretty much said, "If you had half a brain, you'd consider padded underwear".

I had this conversation with the regular drama teacher, Ms. Aguirre, once she got back. All she said was, "Well, given how much waste tampons create, have you considered padded underwear?"

"Not until now?" I said with a confused look on my face, looking confused.

Ms. Aguirre started to talk down to me like I was five years old. "While I don't agree with calling tampons sex toys, I don't condone tampon usage due to how much plastic pollution it creates. You'd be far better to wear padded underwear."

Over the weekend, I found out I had been ousted from drama club via an Instagram post. Come Monday, the principal dissolved the drama club. Now, I don't know what to do.

Mr. Hayman leaned back in his chair, fixing his gaze on me. I braced myself for the probing questions that were about to come.

"Why did you join the drama club in the first place?" Mr. Hayman asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, recalling the reasons that led me down this unexpected path. "OK, I'll tell you," I replied, my voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "I joined the drama club because I used to play soccer, but I injured my ACL." I paused, a flicker of pain crossing my face at the memory. "I pivoted to drama temporarily until my knee healed up, but the doctor never gave me the all-clear to go back on the field, so I just stayed put."

Mr. Hayman's eyebrows furrowed, his tone filled with skepticism. "Just because you're weak doesn't give you an excuse to sit out physical activity," he remarked, his words a touch harsher than I expected.

I straightened my posture, my voice firm yet composed. "I am a lot of things, but weak is not one of them," I responded.

Undeterred, Mr. Hayman leaned forward, his concern evident in his eyes. "Then why haven't you gone to a different doctor so you can get back on the soccer field?" he inquired, his tone searching for an answer.

"Because you don't need sports to be successful," I replied. My response tinged with a mixture of frustration and defiance.

Mr. Hayman nodded slowly, acknowledging my perspective. "That's true, but you need exercise," he admitted, his voice softer now. "I have no idea how much dancing you do as part of the plays the drama club puts on, but I highly doubt it's enough to keep you physically active."

His words had wisdom. I didn't get much exercise other than my physiotherapy since doing drama club. As long as I was getting enough exercise, I could do whatever extracurricular I wanted.

Solving the exercise problem overwhelmed me at first. We live in one of the least bike-friendly cities in the country, if not the world. It soon occurred to me that it was easier to solve than I thought: put a stationary bike at my homework desk. The stationary bike helped me stay active without riding an actual bike.

It was brilliant, and yet, everybody I know complained about stationary bikes. Grandpa has the idea that using a stationary bike discourages individuals from venturing outdoors. I never intended it to replace going outside, just a way to beef up how much exercise I get in the day.

Dad says that unless I read or watch television, the repetitive motion gets boring. Again, the point was to sneak more movement into my day. I can pedal on the exercise bike while I'm doing my homework. He also said that stationary bike usage won't enhance my college applications. This is true, but I can concentrate better if I'm moving around. Using the stationary bike will ultimately bolster my grades, and I can highlight that in college applications.

However, life experience has taught me that people laugh at individuals who fall off a stationary bike. I didn't think that'd be an issue. Given that I knew how to ride a regular bike, I highly doubted I would fall off an exercise bike.

I was so wrong.

I was on the stationary bike when I discovered that Ms. Aguirre's Instagram posts made international headlines for all the wrong reasons.

It floored me to see the post she made announcing that she gave me the boot. She posted not one, not two, but seven GIFs of garbage piles in Morocco as well as a photo of a dead sheep. The post had the caption, "Anyone that uses single-use plastics of any kind is a piece of garbage, and that means you Polette! (If you don't know what that means, it means you and 6 other people are out of the drama club dumbass! bet you're wishing you wore the padded underwear, didn't you?)"

I was not the only person she named in the post. She mentioned several other people, all of whom she removed for seriously petty reasons. Carolina has a mom who is a cop, Sidhu didn't put pronouns in his IG bio, Koji laughed at a fat joke, and Beck used cis-normative language.

Two of them really stuck out in my mind. Cheryl got ejected because she listed a supposedly "problematic" show as one of her favorites. It made me wonder how she can stand Paw Patrol. Kathryn got ousted for "mimicking a foreign accent". The last one struck me as particularly below the belt because Kathryn has had a speech impediment due to being deaf since the age of 3, she doesn't even know she can't pronounce L without it sounding like R or W.

The most recent thing she posted was a video of her panicking because she was stuck on an empty subway train. The text accompanying it read as follows:

All across the country, high school students who don't immediately fit into the cool crowd are marginalized from their peers. Drama clubs were formerly safe havens for these children; islands of misfit toys. Today, this is no longer the case. In our increasingly commercialized world, drama clubs have stopped being an after-school activity and started to become a microcosm for Hollywood; a mini-agency of sorts. No longer is drama club the domain of the cool loser. Instead, the drama club is slowly and quietly being invaded by the wannabe Brad Pitts and Angelina Jolies of the high school world in the same way the formerly unassuming but respectable world of high school band was overtaken by corporate conglomerates. When high school clubs become bought out by Big Business, our girls suffer.

Why girls? Historically, girls were restricted in their passions since birth; bred and groomed to become homemakers. It is only relatively recently that girls were granted the same activities as boys; still; infinitely more work must be done. Subtle, micro-aggressive messages about body image must be tackled from the bottom up. The tragic passing of eleven brave, beautiful girls at Westwood High School from eating disorders over the summer holiday brought on by the "thin, thinner, thinnest" world of drama that has only recently pervaded high schools has awakened us to how much more work we need to do to keep our drama clubs as safe havens for dorky children who are not intellectually inclined enough to join a science club.

We must not wait for another incident such as this to take action. Action must be taken now. Unfortunately, no action can be taken on my part due to the rapid deterioration of my brain from Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease.

I would like to use my dying breath to thank the school for dissolving the drama club. My last wish is that no matter what you do, do not reinstate the drama. club One more death from an eating disorder is too many.

Parents, please encourage your child(ren) to print a copy of this letter for their records and include it in any potential college applications.

Yippie-kay-yay motherfuckers,

Antonia "The Drake" Aguirre

If you don't know what this means, it means the drama teacher is either about to die from mad cow disease or she just died. Her having mad cow disease makes an alarming amount of sense.

I couldn't take my eyes off the picture of the dead sheep. It didn't really look like a sheep. It looked like a corpse, but not the corpse of a sheep.

I had to look at it a couple of times to figure out what kind of animal it was. After looking at the foot anatomy and head, I soon realized that it wasn't a dead sheep. It was a dead human covered in string.

Now that I knew it was a human, I recognized her on sight. The glasses. The long black hair. The partially decomposed bee-stung lips. Alison!

I now knew the truth as to why Alison broke off all contact with me. Contrary to what everyone has told me, she didn't abandon me because I couldn't play soccer anymore. She died what looks like a lonely and gory death.

I felt dizzy. I couldn't stay upright. I swooned, fainted, and fell off the exercise bike.

@seaside-writings

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #short fiction #short story #creative writing

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worldismyne · 2 years ago

Text

Almost Home Ch 10

Summary: Harv takes shelter in a strange castle in the middle of the woods on his way back home. He only planned on staying one night. It’s just, there always seems to be a reason why it’d be a good idea to stay just one more night.

AU - Finn and Harv meet years after graduating.

Rating: M

Pairing: Harv/Finn

Series: Warrior U

Ao3 link

The ravens that roosted in the trees were echoing happy refrains the morning Harv lead his family to Finn's house. It was a far friendlier sight to him now, bathed in the colors of the sunrise. The warmth that came with it gently coaxed the ice to glisten like the stars. There was an air of excitement about them as the brisk walk had chased away the fatigue from waking early.

Puck hopped up onto the bottom of the front gate, clinging to it like a prisoner with a laugh. The gate lurched, slowly the iron door opened with the little boy riding on it. Harv froze, his hand ready and on the bell pull. Finn always kept the gate locked. That shouldn't have been able to open like that. He slipped through the gate and pushed on the wood of the front door. It too opened with no resistance.

The inside entryway of the darkened castle was nothing but shadow and the cold. The bells that normally hung from the door frame lay on the stone floor. There was no light echoing from the sitting room like when he had left. He took a few steps inward. From the hall, he could see the yule log ashed over and dead in the hearth. Finn's black robe still draped on the couch where Harv left it.

"Finn?" Harv called up the stairs. He heard a dish shatter on the floor of the kitchen and echo throughout the house. Harv motioned for his family to linger outside a while so he could investigate.

"Like I'm listening to you, you're not my commanding officer here." Emet barged in past him. "Hello! Anyone home!?" For a while silence was their answer. Another crash echoed down the hall. Harv pulled in the lead with Emet in close pursuit.

Chairs had been turned over in the dining room to form an erratic obstacle course. The plush cushioning had been torn by something dull, yet pointed. Emet picked up a candlestick from the floor to use as a short-ranged weapon. It too had been scratched up. As they came closer to the kitchen, they could hear something scuffling on the other side. The sound of nails scraping against stone and a labored grunt that might have been breathing. Harv had his sword at the ready. He pulled the door toward him silently. As it opened, he saw little red streaks on the inner handle and his heart dropped into his stomach.

A wet, guttural sound came from the kitchen as a jar of potion ingredients shattered on the floor. Harv and Emet barged into the kitchen, weapons at the ready. Standing on the counter was a man with skin as white as snow. His legs and torso stretched like taffy as he used the potion shelf to support his weight. A long arm slithered up across the kitchen to the butcher knives and pots that dangled from the wire rack above the kitchen island. In the center of his forehead was a twisted horn and he looked at them with wild red eyes.

"Harv what the hell is that?" Emet clenched his weapon tighter.

"Who are you?" The intruder asked in an uncanny voice Harv had come to associate with the ravens. An animal trying to replicate human speech. The creature retracted its limbs to take on proper proportions, but sometimes an eye or a finger would drift out of place only to worm its way back. "You haven't happened to see a little loud thing, have you?" It smiled. Little red dots decorated his cheek and collar. "A bigger loud thing moved into its nest; I think it was hiding him." The red dots weren't moving like the rest of him, almost like they weren't a part of him.

"What did you do with Finn?" Harv asked, he could feel his blood begin to boil.

"Yes! That's the one!" Blood. It was wearing blood on its face. "You know what might help? If I could just," it reached for the hilt of Harv's sword, "have that-" Harv swung, and the thing melted into the shape of a tiny, furry unicorn. It whinnied at him and charged. Whatever this shapeshifter was, it was trying to trick them into letting their guard down. The two warriors were skilled enough to avoid injury, but every time they tried to take the offensive, it'd melt into different shapes or places.

"Let's just get it out of the house!" Emet roared and tried to coral the creature into the next room.

"We can't, the others!" Harv said. At the mention of other humans, the creature's eyes glimmered with hunger, and it ran toward the front door. They chased after him, unable to keep up with the galloping monster.

"Rhodri!" Emet gasped. "Brigandish, knee high!" Rhodri readied a slingshot, expecting a person, and instead shot a rock into the knee of a tiny horse. Roland grabbed it by the horn and tail and hoisted the creature in the air. It flailed and kicked only to melt back into the form of a human man. Roland threw him out into the snow on instinct.

"A demon!" Roland leaned up against the exterior of the house for comfort. The pink-haired man rolled over and inspected his horn for damage.

"Who are you people!?" It demanded. "There were only two huma- people here before!"

"I live here!" Harv pointed the blade at the shapeshifter and it scrambled backward in the snow and ran off towards the shelter of the trees. Harv immediately ran back into the house. "Finn!?" The sound of something heavy crashing to the ground echoed from down the stairs. "FINN!"

Harv ran up the stairs before anyone could stop him. Finn's door rattled but couldn't open all the way. Something was blocking it from inside.

"Harvey?" Finn called back. He was breathless, struggling to move something. "Harvey I'm in here."

"Get back from the door." Harv said. He rammed his shoulder against the door and pushed the door open enough to let Finn out. A dresser had been tipped over in front of the door, making it hard to get in or out. Harv hesitated, wondering for a moment if this was another shapeshifter.

The backs of Finn's hands had been cut up from a scuffle, with a stocking of some kind wrapped around one of the worst wounds. He had Harv's old tunic on over his clothes and it looked like he hadn't slept in a while. More importantly, he didn't give Harv a chance to speak before jumping him. Finn's arms were wrapped around his neck, his legs around his waist. Harv had to drop his sword just to support the bard and keep both of them from hitting the ground. Finn's mouth was on his and he clung so tight it nearly hurt.

"Oh Harvey," Finn said between kisses, "I heard everything. You don't know how scared I was." Harv tried to gently urge Finn to at least stand on his own, or let him speak, but his mouth and hands were busy.

"Eeeeewww." Puck scowled from the top of the stairs, having been the first to make it up the steps. Finn pulled back slowly and slipped back onto his feet.

"Harv, there's a gremlin in my home." Finn eyed the child like he'd never seen one before. Puck stuck out his tongue and ran down the stairs shouting for his parents.

"Relax Finn, that's my brother." Harv sighed. "He does the same thing with my parents." Finn looked up at him.

"Yes, but why is he here?" Finn pushed Harv away and hit him in the face. "And how dare you leave the front door unlocked! Were you raised in a barn?"

"...yes..." Harv pouted a little as he nursed his stinging cheek. "I didn't leave through the front door."

"You're the last one who opened it, remember? When the blizzard hit." Finn had his hands on his hips. "You didn't lock it after you checked how high the snow got. That's how that thing got in! It's still out there too, so in the future..." He tried to hide how his lip trembled as his anger caved to something else. "You said you lived here. Does that mean, you're really here to stay?"

"Clearly, there's still some things we need to talk about." Harv said and gently cupped Finn's face.

"HE WHAT!?" Harv flinched at the sound of his father's voice thundering from the dining room.

"But... I think it'd be nice..." Harv pulled Finn in for another hug. "You should probably put something else on to meet my family... I- We had this whole plan to do things in stages, but..." Harv's sigh sounded more like a hiss. "That ship's passed it seems."

"Just how many people did you bring into my home?" Finn hadn't been around large groups of people in a long time. He gripped Harv's shirt a little tighter when he saw the man look up to do mental math. "Harvey..."

"Seven, including the baby." He could see Finn start to sweat a little. "I know, I'm sorry, I just- I love them and I want them to love you too. Besides, isn't it kinda our home now?" He kissed each cut on Finn's hands. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."

"I'll need time to think about it." Finn rolled his eyes. "You did save my life after all, but if they're mean..."

"They won't be mean," Harv pulled him back in to mutter against his neck, "I won't let them, I promise."

"Okay, I'll get changed."

There was only one chance at a first impression and Finn didn't know much about peasants' sensibilities outside of Harv. Usually when people had dared try to visit, he did his best to seem untouchably domineering. It was harder for the common man to threaten someone who was wearing ten times their life savings on a single finger than not. Inspiring fear that way was easy.

But no number of jewels or fabric could make a person love you. Finn had learned that the hard way. Still, there wasn't much else he could do to show he was trying to make a good impression. He ascended the stairs in a rich purple velvet tunic with black fur trim, it was the plainest thing he owned.

Harv's family had come together to tidy up the disaster the creature had left in its wake. The hearth was alight once more, and Clover's cake had been sliced up and plated for everyone to have a bite. Finn hesitated halfway down the stairs at the sound of laughter that came from the dining room. At least no one sounded upset anymore.

"I see you've made yourselves at home." Finn did his best to seem proper, but the children stopped in their tracks at the sight of him like they were in trouble. "I trust you've done well since the storm?" He caught sight of Emet snickering at him to Rhodri. "What is so funny about proper manners? I'd like to see how you'd fare in my shoes." He sighed. "It's nice to meet you all, I'm Finnegan, Harv's..." He glanced at Harv to judge his reaction before continuing. "Inamorato for lack of a better word." He sat next to Harv, greatly disliking how much he felt like he was being observed.

"What is that exactly?" Roland asked as Clover handed Finn a piece of cake.

"Italian." Finn said and held Harv's hand under the table. "We get along and it seems Harv has accepted my offer to stay for a little longer." They hadn't had time to discuss things further than that, but Finn was happy to have someone to brag about it to.

"It's not too far, so I can still help with the farm." Harv added. "It'll just be a bit of a commute."

"What's gotten into you boy?" Roland shook his head. "You're an adult, you don't need our approval to move out." He eyed the blond bard with a hint of suspicion. "Or on who to associate with."

Harv grinned at Finn, who just looked back a little perplexed, but he supposed that was a good sign. The last thing he wanted was some angry man banging on his front door in the middle of the night asking for his son.

"Can I touch your coat?" Big asked.

"It's not a coat." Finn said, equally apprehensive. "But, sure." He offered one of the draping sleeves to the child and the boy eagerly grabbed onto the fur. His eyes lit up as he squished the black fur trim.

"It's got stuffing in it!" Big grinned.

"Big's wanting to go into tailoring." Harv whispered as he leaned close to Finn. The blond perked up, fashion was one topic he was quite versed in.

"Well, I have quite the collection if you ever want to take a look." Finn said. The young boy ran around the table to pull on his mother's apron and whisper in her ear.

"Yes, I heard." Clover said with a laugh and ruffled his hair. "We can talk about it more when we get home."

"That reminds me." Finn said. "Harvey, what do you plan to wear for your knighting ceremony?" All eyes in the room were on Harv. "...Did you not tell them?"

"I... kind of forgot..." Harv still hadn't fully accepted Finn's story at face value. He hadn't even reported to the castle yet to let them know he was back within city limits. The room exploded into a chorus of overlapping questions and excited speculation. With his whole family, both old and new, eagerly chatting in candlelight about the future, Harv felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders.

He was finally home.

#warrior u #harvfinn #little finnharv things #fanfic

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swaps55 · 2 years ago

Note

#86 if you haven't already answered that one!

Send me a # between 1-101, and I will either tell you which fic the corresponding Spotify Wrapped song inspired, or I will write a ficlet based on the song.

Also asked by @screwyouflightlieutenant!

#86: What It Is, Kodaline.

This is the kickoff song to Cantata. Ten years ago (!!!!) I had the idea that Shepard and Kaidan meet in a bar not long after Torfan and serve together before the Normandy, but I never wrote it down until Cantata. Despite morphing universes and even Shepards over the years, the basic details of that first meeting never changed. Shepard was coping with Torfan poorly, didn't show up for duty for his new assignment, and Kaidan was sent to go find him. Upon seeing him nursing a beer at 06:00 in the morning, instead of turn him in, Kaidan suggested they go get pancakes.

This first meeting is one of the most important moments in Cantata, and the opening lines of this song were just right for it:

So you try to drag your feet down to the bar When you’re startin' to forget just who you are And they told you it was written in the stars But you've never had a chance to look that far

Here's a snippet from Cantata, Chapter 1: What It Is (I swear I don't always actually just use the song title for the chapter title)

Shepard leans an elbow on the table and pinches the bridge of his nose between two fingers, eyes closed, still gripping the bottle. Kaidan can’t hear the slow, desperate release of breath, but he feels it like a swift kick in the gut.

This isn’t his business. He’s located the XO. He could report it in, follow the chain of command. Potentially damage the career of a decorated officer. Or he could just get Shepard’s attention and inform him the Captain is waiting. Walk away, wash his hands of it, leave it up to Shepard to sink or swim. Or...he could do none of those things.

The park bench had been ten years ago. One glance from a stranger had been all it took to set it off. He’d just wanted a long walk to clear his head, and instead he’d wound up on that bench, unable to breathe, positive he was about to die. In Kaidan’s mind, everyone who looked at him saw only Vyrnnus’ broken neck. He’d been seventeen, alone, and no one had helped him.

It’s a bar instead of a park, a corner booth instead of a bench, and this time Shepard’s the one sitting in it.

Don’t leave him here.

#swaps replies #Anonymous #opus!verse #snippet #spotify wrapped #thank you!

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raspberryconverse · 2 years ago

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This fabric is absolutely adorable, right?

Nobody ever talks about this (that I've heard, at least), but one of the most exhausting things about buying a house (that you plan to stay in for a long time) is how exhausting decorating the whole thing can be, especially if you're not the only one who lives there.

To say my spouse and I bit off probably more than we can chew with our house is an understatement. It was built in 1945 and only had one owner, so there have been a ton of things that need updating, just to live (electrical, drain tile system, roof, furnace, central AC, stove, mold removal). We closed almost a year ago and fully moved in last June.

We have hardly any artwork up, but we do have all but one of the bedrooms painted. The last room is going to be our home office (we both work remotely, though we could go to our offices if we really wanted to, but we rarely do). This room has been the last to really nail things down on because it was the one where the roof was leaking around the chimney and there was mold behind the wood paneling. We just haven't been able to figure out exactly what we want to do with it decor-wise. One of the main things it needs right away is curtains. My closet is also in this room and if the door is open the window has a clear sightline of the built-in my spouse uses. There is often nudity (though I honestly don't think anyone can get a really clear view of either of us changing, but my spouse disagrees).

Today we decided to go to a fabric store in the city (Chicago) to find fabric for curtains. We've been to Ikea and browsed what other retailers had online, but nothing really caught our eye. It was a good choice because we found the fabric above. And now we have a jumping off point.

We hit a few other places after and at some point in the afternoon, it occurred to me: this is my next cross stitch project

I plopped it in Stitch Fiddle and made some adjustments. On my last trip to Michael's, I needed to pick up more of my spouse's dress color to finish our wedding record and decided this would be my next project, so I bought all the blacks and grays and some 18 count aida cloth (I usually use 14 count, but Stitch Fiddle said it'd be enormous and 18 is about as small as I'll use because I'm old and my vision is getting worse). And now that we're going to have cute rainy day curtains, this is going to be perfect! It's probably going to take me forever, but oh well.

Nobody probably thinks this is as exciting as we do, but it has been a long ass time since we've done some house stuff and not only agreed on something so easily, but also not fought at all in the process. And this room has been plaguing us too. We are so burnt out with decision fatigue and our relationship has really been suffering because of it. But today was a really good day! We had no idea what direction to go with the office, but now we finally have something and we're both really excited about it.

#we also went to a sherwin williams like 10 min before closing #we were those customers lol #and the gal there gave my spouse a fan deck of all their colors #i'm pretty sure my spouse is happier than they were when we got married #spouse even said it was a close second 😆#home ownership #home improvement #heartstopper comics #cross stitch #x stitch #diy #is this what marriage is?

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thatll-do · 1 year ago

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Oh yeah, I keep forgetting to tell that story, but I guess now's a good a time as any to post it

Alright, so here goes:

So, something my followers may not know from the fact that I haven't talked about it much, but I have many siblings. I'm actually the second of seven. And most of my siblings are pretty tame, if annoying.

Most of them.

The one that's buckwild is my older sister. She is two things above all else. The first is that she dangerous and malicious. To give you an idea of what I mean, she once locked my in a dryer for half an hour and wouldn't let me out, busted my tooth in a pillow fight gone very wrong, and is so far going 3-for-3 on sending me to the hospital for stitches, amongst other acts of violence

Her other predominant trait is that she is incredibly stupid. She once sprayed a hose on the VCR to "clean it up", hid a huge box of chocolate bars behind some drywall thinking she would be able to retrieve it later (she didn't), and thought she could drive a car to McD's at the age of fourteen.

Putting these things together, it makes it a little less mysterious as to how she managed to get himself a five-year ban from the state of Florida, and bare in mind this is before the sandy tits came into office and started cracking down on everything and everyone for just existing in the wrong place. I don't know how she ended up with that sentence and frankly speaking I don't wanna know

So, bearing this in mind, I have no response other than I want whatever my parents were smoking at about seventeen/eighteen years ago when they made the decision to entrust her with setting up some christmas decorations. And these weren't any old cheapy cheap shit you get at the bargain bin at wally world christmas decorations.

No, these were handcrafted crystalline figurines to a nativity scene that were gifted to my parents by someone, I dunno who. They were the closest thing my family had to a crown jewel in the christmas department.

So you can already see that this is gonna end well

And it almost did actually. She set it up with almost no problems.

Almost.

Because, the funny thing about crystalline figurines is that they're not exactly easy to see, ergo they're also easy to miss and overlook, so nobody noticed anything was initially amiss when one figurine was missing.

We did notice it eventually, but by that time we were too late to do anything about it when we were looking everywhere for it. But like I said, it is very difficult to find something literally made crystal clear, even more so when it had been shattered.

So we do what any sensible american family does in the face of hardship; we shrugged our shoulders and gave up, and that would be the last we would have seen of that particular figurine.

Except

Had it not been an ensuing fight a few days later between me and the moron who shattered it and told nobody

I don't really remember what started it, but I remember chasing her around the house with a huge stick. And I'm not talking about running in circles in a living room, no. I'm talking chasing my sister with a huge stick to smack her with through the living room, out the door into the snow, though the window back into the house over the couch up the stairs dodging by making a heelturn though her bedroom back down the stairs into the kitchen rounding the corner past the table on slick linoleum flooring with wet shoes when BAM!

I did it, I did what every catholic parent wanted for their children aside from having forty-seven kids and perpetuating the cult mentality .

I had found jesus

Unfortunately, it was in the form of a shard of glass embedded an inch into my leg

Like I said, I think all catholic parents want their kids to find jesus but I have a slight suspicion that this wasn't what they had in mind

But I took it as a sign

When the figurehead of a church goes out of their way to stab you, I think it's safe to assume you've been smited and that they don't want you hanging around

So yeah, that's how I was stabbed by jesus and I am now a transgender atheist

Homemade nativity scene

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lynxgirlpaws · 11 months ago

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christmas time rant below sory

christmas this year feels so . weird like it's christmas! it's december 24th! there's. no snow. there's no tree. there's no decorations. it doesn't feel like christmas yet. my dad peeked in my room and slipped me a $100 dollar gift card . did not even say merry christmas while doing it. i'm so grateful for this. i feel bad both for receiving such a gift and not having any to give in return, but also something just. feels off. there's nothing holly or jolly about this season. i tried to contact the only person i have irl other than my dad and kinda his girlfriend to say merry christmas. my therapist's email gave me an auto response about not being in the office until january. i finally have a bit of economic freedom i can use to get... something. what do i even want? what have i even earned? what will i get that won't cause judgement or criticism or questioning. why does it not feel like christmas. i feel bad for it not feeling like christmas. i proposed playing chess and spending time with my father both today and tomorrow for christmas, he's down to play chess but has to work on christmas day all day. all i have left hanging around from my old christmas time is a golden nutcracker, and the prayer beads my mother made me before she passed. there's more downstairs. i don't feel like bothering anyone down there. it'd be awkward to say merry christmas to my only irl friend after having just responded to him about how i felt used those times we fucked. he hasn't responded. it'd be weird to be holly and jolly after that. i haven't had a conversation with someone other than my father, his girlfriend or my therapist in months. i miss the smell of pine trees and the sounds of my mother reading christmas books to me. i miss watching the polar express with her. i miss my cats hiding under the tree and the hellish experience that is putting it up in the first place. i feel bad for not being purely joyous for what i've got. i. this year's christmas is weird. but i dunno. i'm gonna try and be helpful tomorrow night for anyone else who's got a weird wonky fucked up christmas. i remember watching schlatt's christmas stream and being overjoyed and i remember how warm it felt. hopefully i can do some of the same for someone else maybe i hope. anyways give me funny ideas for stuff to buy lol

#avierant #avierants #gonna go lie down #weh

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sinfultray1408 · 1 year ago

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Scene Comparisons: -3-

My Life With Chaplin: An Intimate Memoir by Lita Grey Chaplin with Morton Cooper (pg. 29-33)

Wife of the Life of the Party: A Memoir by Lita Grey Chaplin and Jeffrey Vance (pg. 23-26)

Occasionally [Chaplin] arrived late when he'd worked late the night before, and on one such morning Mama and I got to the studio before he did. When he came in he saw me alone - Mama had stepped away somewhere - and took my arm as he walked toward his dressing room.

"Come with me. I want to show you something," he said.

I went with him, puzzled and a bit nervous.

His dressing room, at the farthest end of a long row of studio offices that stretched the full length of the block between Sunset Boulevard and DeLongpre, was actually a bungalow, consisting of a plushly furnished living room with a fireplace, an alcove-like room with a three-way mirrored dressing table, a wardrobe closet and a tile bath-room. There were few physical reminders that these were his quarters - he was not a vain man - but the walls were decorated with autographed photographs of the famous.

He shucked off his coat as I pretended to concentrate on the inscriptions by Galli-Curci, Winston Churchill, Enrico Caruso, George Bernard Shaw and Georges Carpentier. I was relieved when his Japanese valet materialized from somewhere and blandly, silently, began to prepare his master's costume and makeup. The room was filled with the scent of some exotic perfume.

Mr. Chaplin pointed to a chair near his dressing table and invited me to sit down. With a faint smile he produced the unframed painting the artist had done of me (Age of Innocence photograph) and asked, "Well, how do you like it?"

It was an extremely flattering likeness, but it gave my eyes a kind of wistful, reflective sadness I hadn't suspected I possessed. Blushing a little, I answered, "It's very nice, but it makes me a hundred times better looking than I am."

"Nonsense, nonsense," he said, taking the picture again and studying it absorbedly for a moment. "Whether this makes you beautiful or not doesn't concern me at all. I couldn't be more pleased by what Bert's done. I wanted him to capture that 'Age of Innocence' expression. He did, but he did even more - he caught that special elusive quality in your eyes."

"Elusive?" I repeated. I had no idea what the word meant.

Nodding, he handed the picture to Kono, the valet. “I've been peeking at you, my dear, when you haven't been looking. I've been more and more drawn to those fascinating eyes of yours. They're so very young and yet so - oh, what is the description? Mature, possibly. No, that isn't quite it." He smiled. "They make you seem very mysterious." He tied a large makeup cloth around his neck and turned to the mirror.

I had been told by my family and others that I had pretty eyes, but no one had ever called them, or me, mysterious. Being in the same room with this famous man scared me half to death. And being called mysterious scared me even more.

"Your name, 'Lillita' ... you're Latin, of course." It was a statement, not a question.

"Well, sort of half." I said, "Spanish, and there's some English and Irish and Welsh thrown in." Some kids made fun of my name and called me "Spik-Mick," a nickname that angered and disgusted me.

"And only twelve years old! Amazing!" he marveled, as though no one had ever been twelve years old before. He was slapping pink greasepaint on his face as the valet moved efficiently and silently about. There was a minute of awkward quiet as Mr. Chaplin stared at his reflection in the mirror, outlined his eyes with a black pencil and mascaraed his eyelashes. Then: "My dear, have you given much thought to being a player in motion pictures? Oh, of course you have - all children have those dreams, I'm sure. But I mean, have you thought of it seriously?"

I watched him methodically put powder over the greasepaint and tint his sideburns, and I wondered if I dared confess that I didn't really care all that much about being in the movies as a career. Every other girl my age would've given anything to be a movie star like Mary Pickford - my best friend, Merna Kennedy, seldom talked about anything else - but I'd never really had any daydreams about becoming famous. I'd been thrilled when Hal Parker had arranged for Mama and me to be extras in the Geraldine Farrar and Wallace Reid picture, and I was just as thrilled now by working for Charlie Chaplin. It was fun, something exciting to do for the time being, but the thought of doing it all the time wasn't especially tantalizing. In answering him, though, I tried to soften it. "I - ah - I don't know if I'd be good enough," I said.

He laughed. “‘Good enough’?” He rubbed some spirit gum on his upper lip, pasted on the Chaplin moustache and jumped to his feet so fast that he startled me.

"Perhaps I can be the better judge of that," he declared, and strode to the wall where his tramp costume was hung. The valet drew a curtain in front of him.

"There's an idea or two popping about in my head," came Mr. Chaplin's voice from behind the curtain. "I haven't figured them through, quite, but what would you think about taking a test to see whether you'd photograph well on the screen?"

He's serious, I thought. None of us had tested for parts as street urchins in The Kid; our parts were so insignificant that individual tests would have been too much trouble and taken too much time. But when you were offered a screen test, that meant you were being considered for something important. I must have been dumbfounded, because he called, "Lillita? Are you there?"

"Yes," I called back. "I'm - well, I guess I should talk with my mother…”

There was impatience in his tone. "She'll come into the discussion, naturally. But I'm not asking her opinion now. I'm asking your opinion."

"It - sounds very exciting."

There were three sharp taps at the door. As Kono opened it I turned and saw Mama, looking awfully concerned about something. Before Kono could speak she stepped in, glancing everywhere at once - at me, sitting near the dressing table, at the impassive valet, at the drawn curtain. I immediately got up, aware that Mama was upset, and just as immediately I felt guilty, although I didn't know why I should.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming here?" Mama demanded loudly, her dark eyes now trained relentlessly on the curtain. For a second I was afraid she was going to lunge toward that curtain and pull it back.

Before I could answer, Mr. Chaplin called, "What's all that? Who's that?"

He came out, dressed in his tramp outfit except for the jacket and shoes. He regarded Mama with a slight frown, awaiting an explanation for her uninvited entrance. Now that Mr. Chaplin was in charge, Kono imperturbably slipped to a neutral corner of the bungalow.

Although she had been frowning a moment before, Mama withered under that displeased look. Her voice and her manner became timid. "Forgive me, Mr. Chaplin. I didn't mean to barge in like this…”

"Oh? What did you mean to do?"

Ruffled, she backed away slightly, closer to me. "I was looking all over for Lillita. I was - worried…the studio is so big and all. Then someone said they saw her walking here with you, and I - well, I am her mother, after all…”

Now his frown was chilling. "I'm afraid I don't appreciate the form your worry takes, Mrs. McMurray. I am not in the habit of seducing twelve-year-old girls."

Apologizing, babbling an explanation about how mothers worried about their daughters, Mama only made matters worse. Mr. Chaplin nodded to the valet to fetch his shoes and jacket and then simply turned away from her, signifying that he wished the subject dropped. He had an unusual facility for making something deafening out of silence, and he demonstrated it that morning in the way he dismissed us. He made no sound or gesture - yet Mama and I were out the door without remembering how we got there.

Charlie was a very private man. Few people, outside of Alf Reeves, his secretary Nellie Bly Baker, or very special guests, were allowed access to his dressing room. I guess I was very special on the day I asked if I could see Charlie's collection of autographed photos that adorned his dressing room walls. Charlie welcomed me to come and look at them. "I've not had such a request from someone as young as you, Lillita," he said. "Of course you may see them. If you like, you may also watch me put on the Tramp's makeup." I was thrilled and waited for Mama to be busy so I would not be thwarted in my visit to his dressing room.

A short time later I knocked at Charlie's dressing room. Kono opened the door and invited me inside. The first thing I noticed upon entering the inner sanctum was the aroma of Guerlain's Mit-souko. It permeated every place where Charlie had been. When I mentioned the fragrance to Charlie, he acknowledged that he had Kono buy it in large bottles. "I love it," he said with a smile.

An entire wall in Charlie's dressing room was devoted to autographed photos of such famous personages as Anna Pavlova, Jascha Heifetz, Amelita Galli-Curci, Vaslav Nijinsky, and Enrico Caruso. All were inscribed to Charlie. After carefully examining the photos, Charlie invited me to sit down. Kono offered me a chair. "You can now watch me as I make the transformation into the Tramp," said Charlie with childlike glee.

Though it was obvious that this room had no pretensions of being anything other than a large dressing room, the furnishings looked expensive. An impressive three-piece sectional sofa graced one corner of the room, and a large cabinet occupied a nearby wall. On the north wall an open door led to a white-tiled bathroom laden with lotions and monogrammed towels. In one corner was a special setup for makeup and clothes changes. Above where Charlie sat was a curtain on a metal ring that was pulled around to hide anyone changing clothes.

Charlie took a tube containing the base makeup used in films called greasepaint. Smearing it on his face and smoothing it out evenly was the first step in making up. He then used a dark eyebrow pencil to blacken his eyebrows and ring his eyes. He used a giant powder puff to powder all this, then cut a small mustache from a sheet of crêpe hair with a pair of scissors. He applied spirit gum to his upper lip then pressed on the mustache, trimming it as needed with the scissors. “I never comb or brush my hair in the morning when I get up if I'm going to make up as the Tramp," he said as he frizzed up his hair with his hands. "I like the Tramp's hair to look unkempt under his bowler."

Kono pulled the curtain around and Charlie stood behind it, with only the Tramp's head exposed. He looked at me and winked, pulled on his baggy trousers, and put on the oversized shoes and the tattered vest. "Voilà!" he said. Stepping out from behind the curtain, he emerged as the world-famous Tramp. Putting on the derby hat and grasping the bamboo cane, he began to waddle around the room and assumed some of the character's familiar stances. The transformation made a terrific impression on me, because he became a totally different person when he was in costume. It was as if he was in a different world.

I applauded this wonderful performance, and Charlie took a bow. Our revelry was soon interrupted by a knock at the door. It was my mother.

"Well, here you are!" she said. "I wouldn't have known where you were if one of the property men hadn't seen you come down this way. I was worried."

"Well, your daughter's all right, Mrs. Parker," Charlie said. "She's been admiring my photograph collection and watching me make up. Won't you have a cup of tea? Kono has some steeping."

"Oh, no, thank you," Mama said curtly. "We must go now. I've promised Lillita's grandmother we'd take her to lunch.

“Thank you,” I said to Charlie, and I followed Mama out the door.

#charlie chaplin #lita grey #memoir #the tramp #the little tramp #scene comparison 3

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fruitoftheweek · 3 years ago

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Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 4:Showered in Sin

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Hey guys! I'm sorry that it has taken so long for me to update this. I had an idea of what I was going to write but I had a super hectic week so I wasn't able to write this till now. In order to make up for it, I have given you a treat. A 6,502 word chapter. It kinda beat my ass but I had so much fun writing it. It's sweet, it's spicy, it's all the goodness you guys deserve. I was listening to Duvet by Boa while writing this and I think you should too for two reasons. One, it helps set the mood, but also oh my fucking god it's such a good song. Also, Boa is just a fucking great band. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! Love you guys

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After a game of drunk never have I ever after a long case, Morgan locks Spencer out of their shared room. Shenanigans ensue and you and Spencer share a couple of firsts.

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, slight mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slight blood kink (not really, it's just hard to explain), Shared masturbation (male and female receiving), pleading, multiple orgasms, cumming in pants, shower sexiness, aftercare

Word Count: 6,502

Your deep cherry lipstick painted the white seal of the wine bottle you held in your hand as you laughed at something Elle said. Spencer couldn't help but let a small smile pass his lips as he took in your form, hot from the day's work, small strands of your hair sticking to your forehead, a dewy glow illuminating your rosy cheeks.

After a long week, they had found Carl Arnold before he had been able to kill the Dunken family and even coerced a confession out of him. With spirits running high, Elle had suggested some much-needed relaxation before taking off the next day. Since you were rooming alone, you volunteered to host in your room. Morgan had arrived at your hotel room with two bottles of some sort of liquor, one clear and one amber, JJ trailing in toe with your bottle of red wine you had asked for. You pulled out your little corkscrew with the face of an old man on it, knowing she hated his weird little face. You brought it with you on trips, just in case the occasion arose.

And it did arise as Elle suggested a drinking game. Hotch had retired early after calling Hailey to get an update on his very pregnant wife, while Gideon preferred the solitude of a good book late at night. The rest of you sat on the floor surrounded by drinks and snacks. With the supervision gone, it almost felt like a high school party with no parents. You all had all settled on a classic, never have I ever. "We haven't played this in a long time because we already know so much about each other, but it's fun when we have a newbie around," Morgan said giving you a cheeky smile and bumping your shoulder. Already pliable after the couple of drinks you had while Elle explained the game, you nodded before tipping your lips to the cusp of Spencer's ear. "I'll try not to make it too hard for you, pretty boy," you said. The small puffs of air that left your mouth made Spencer's hair stand on end and his feet curl.

He knew you were teasing him that night and he loved it. He decided to keep his knees tucked to his chest for the rest of the night as to not expose the predicament in his pants. He watched the way you lightly sucked on the wine bottle as you tipped it back, a thin river of cabernet leaking from the corner of your lips and trailing down your neck. Spencer wanted nothing more than to lean over and lap it off of you just to see how you would react, but he knew it was the drinks talking. Despite your earlier comment, it was quite obvious that you were targeting him as his head started to spin gently.

"Never have I ever had sex with someone much older than me," Garcia said through her video feed with a cheeky smirk. Derek had insisted on including her even though she wasn't physically present. She sat bundled up in a comfy blanket in her office with a mug of some sort of alcoholic beverage. "HEY! No targeting! Plus, I told you that in confidence at ladies night. How much is much older?" You said, swaying your bottle towards the computer set up on the floor."You know how much older I mean sweetheart." Garcia said with a giggle as you groaned and took a sip."How much older is much older?" Morgan said with a cocked eyebrow, somewhere between impressed and surprised." I was a college student, experimenting with my professor. Not like an old man, but he was 20 years older than me. Definitely not my style anymore though." You said with a grimace remembering him.

Spencer had learned a lot about your sex life during that game, but some part inside of him smirked, knowing that the rest of the team would never know you as he knew you, not unless they too had read your journal. It was the only thing keeping his head clear of the idea of you with anyone else. Not that you were with him in any capacity, but the idea still made him feel something in his stomach. Not the sweet butterflies that came with your smile, but something more like idiotic hornets dangerously bumping against the walls of his stomach.

Spencer hadn't even noticed the uproar of everyone else around the circle at your comment and the second revelation that Morgan had drunk too. He was too busy watching how you had shyly tucked your hair behind your ear, finally letting it down out of your clips for once. You were wearing your pajamas, just a tank top, slouchy sweater, and flannel pajama pants, but somehow you looked more radiant than ever. He had come back down to earth after hearing someone call his name."Y-Yes?" He sputtered out, realizing you had been trying to get his attention."It's Morgan's turn, pay attention." You said, gently smacking your hand down on his thigh.

If he was riled up before, he was unbelievably undone at the slight sting from where your palm had just been. Light enough that it wasn't noticeable, but hard enough that it erupted a Shockwave through his body, centered on the location of the contact. He bit back the whimper threatening to escape his lips as he turned towards Morgan, trying desperately to not watch you from the corner of his eye.

"Never have I been a virgin at 24," Morgan said, beaming in his direction. Spencer took a big gulp from his glass of whiskey."You always do that one, I don't know why you think it's so funny, you're just trying to get me to drink" he said abashedly. He looked over at you, nervous for your reaction, but you seemed unfazed. "Hey, that's a wonderful gift to have, there's something so special about virgins. Maybe it's the idea that everything is new, but I like it. I love virgins." You said, taking a sip from your bottle, gently swaying. You had given up on never have I ever and just decided to drink whenever you felt like it. Maybe it was because you were tipsy, maybe it was the warm flush that decorated Spencer's cheeks, maybe it was the way he was looking at you with sultry, half-lidded eyes. You couldn't tell, but something made you want to find an excuse for you two to be alone.

"Geese, we seemed to have caught a succubus tonight." Morgan quipped."A suck-you-what now?" You said, cocking an eyebrow at him. " A succubus, it's a demon or supernatural entity in folklore, in female form, that appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. According to religious traditions, repeated sexual activity with a succubus can cause poor physical or mental health, even death. In modern representations, a succubus is often depicted as a beautiful seductress or enchantress, rather than as demonic or frightening." Spencer shot out. "Wow, even when you're drunk, your big brain keeps chuggin' along," you said, sloppily ruffling his hair "A beautiful seductress or enchantress, huh?" That time it came out low, inaudible to the others, but it pierced Spencer like a knife."Do you think that's accurate bout me?" you asked, staring up into his eyes, closer than you have been before. Spencer let a cartoonish gulping noise escape his lips as he held back his urge to lean into your touch.

"Ah, it's my turn," you said, leaning back into your spot in the circle and sadly, away from Spencer." Never have I ever done something naughty at our work," you said, looking straight at Spencer "I'll know if you're lying, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," your cocky smirk leaking out of your mouth. Everyone except you and JJ took a shot."Wow, really you guys? Even you Spence? " JJ said in disbelief, looking around the circle."Never have I ever, my ass" Spencer mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, looking over at you, thinking about your pantieless escapades.

"Look at that, Doctor Reid, you need another drink, let me go fix you one," You said as you grabbed his glass in one hand, leaning and gripping hard into his shoulder with the other. It wasn't seen by the others, but between that and the fiery look in your eyes, it sent an obvious message,' keep your mouth shut or I'll shut it for you.' You used him as leverage to get up, nearly pushing him over as you gracefully stumbled to the hotel fridge. He knew what you meant, but he didn't care, your grip on him went straight into his imagination as he envisioned what that grip would feel like in other places. He kind of wanted to push his luck, just so he could see what he had in store.

And push it he did as you handed him the glass, reminding him that it was indeed his turn to play never have I ever. "Never have I ever slept with my professor," He said, obviously targeting you with a glint of mischief in his eyes."Oh yeah, well never have I ever been a virgin at 24." You said, swaying as you sat down."Morgan already said that, dummy. Never have I ever worn stupid dark red lipstick" He retorted, equally as drunk as you. At this point everyone else had zoned you two out and were focused on other things, refreshing their drinks, counting the ceiling tiles, humming a sloppy rendition of My My Miss American Pie, or in Penelope's case, all three."Yeah, well never have I ever been a complete and utter mommas boy!" You continued, the statement turning Spencer beet red. You watched him clench and unclench his hands, you had obviously struck a nerve. Just as you were about to apologize, he cut you off. "Never have I ever had nipple piercings!" He shouted, pointing at your chest, now drawing attention to the obvious balls framing your nipples that you had once been covered by your long-forgotten sweater.

As he said it, it felt like the world went in slow motion. You could see the instant regret on his face as you dropped your bottle in surprise. It had landed on Spencers discarded whiskey glass and both shattered, wine and whiskey mixing with glass to create a slurry on the ground between them. "Fuck! You Guys!" Morgan said, "You got it all over my clothes." "Me too," Echoed Elle as they both stood up in their soaked clothes. "I think that calls it a night." JJ said, closing the laptop on the image of an already sleeping Garcia." Bye you guys, sleep well," you called after them as you and Spencer rushed around looking for towels to clean up the alcohol with.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Spencer cried as you dropped the last of the glass in the garbage can. As you rounded the corner, you saw Spencer pulling a rather large shard of glass that you must have missed out of his thumb, blood pooling at the tip. Without thinking, you crouched down and sucked his thumb into your mouth." A-ah! What... What are you doing!?" Spencer asked breathlessly, looking down at you with a deep hunger in his eyes. You pop off his thumb and squeeze it at the base, slowing the blood flow."Shut up," You said," This helps slow the bleeding. The sucking applies pressure. My mom used to do this for me... And no, do not psychoanalyze that." You said, wrapping your mouth around his finger, sucking to provide some pressure to slow the blood flow. You could taste the iron in your mouth, but you didn't mind, knowing you were helping your friend.

You were helping alright, helping in more ways than you would ever understand. "Yeah, like I'm the only one here with mommy issues," he said distractedly, too busy surveying your lips wrapped around him. You slapped your hand down on his thigh once more, eliciting a small whimper from him. He couldn't help it, you were a sight of beauty, you always were, but looking down on you right then, Spencer wanted to bottle that moment forever. The tops of your breasts peeking out from the top of your tank top, your eyes filled with a hazy glow, looking up at him to make sure he was ok, and your cheeks hollowing out around his thumb as you delicately sucked on his wound. It was as close as Spencer had ever gotten to anything sexual. He could feel your tongue swirling around the cut, lapping up the last couple drops of blood. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it was another appendage and not his thumb. You sucked on his thumb one last time, harder than you had previously, and before he even knew what he was doing, his hips bucked up, rubbing his hard cock against his pajama pants, finally relieving his mounting orgasm.

You let go of his finger with a pop as your tongue trailed off of the underside of his thumb. Spencer looked anywhere but you, as a wet patch formed through his thin underwear and pajama pants. He hurried to cover it with his sweater, shooting up from his seated position."Um, Um, I'm g-gonna go shower and go to bed." He said, hurriedly scurrying over to where he had left his room key." Sorry partner, I saw Morgan accidentally grab both of your keys on the way out. He's probably asleep by now." You said languidly, leaning back to take in the sight of the soft boy in front of you. Totally flushed with heat, small beads of sweat peppering his forehead, his hands twiddling suspiciously into his sweater in an attempt to conceal crotch, trying and failing miserably to hide his rapidly cooling cum.

He whined a little, lighting a fire in you. He looked so thoroughly fucked out, and all you had done was suck his finger. You knew that you just had to play with him some more. "You know, you can use my shower, doctor." You said, and he let out a small sigh of relief, heading towards the bathroom. "There is one condition, though," You smirked coyly as he halted his motions, his body facing away from you. It was almost as if he was ready to run away at any moment. You walked over to him, slowly, taking your time to tease him. The silence hung heavy in the air as you looked up into his eyes questioningly, waiting for him to ask. "Wh-what is the condition." He said, unable to return your gaze, hands fisted in the hem of his sweater, pulling it down even further. You smirked, dipping your hands up and under his sweater, nearly brushing his spent cock before gently placing them on his bare stomach, just above his waistband. He sucked in a tight breath as you gently swirled your fingers in the short hair that lead from his belly button down to happier places." Before I ask, do you know about the color scale?" you said, fingers smoothing out over his little stomach." Um, k-kinda?" He said, heat flushing his cheeks."Green means good keep going, yellow means slow down, and red means stop right now, ok?" You said, looking up at him as he nods."Come on pretty boy, I need verbal confirmation. I need to know that you understand, got it." You said with a little pinch to his tummy. "Y-Yes, I understand!" He blurted out, standing stiff as a board." Good boy. Now, for my condition. You can shower if you show me what you're hiding." You said, leaning close enough that if Spencer breathed, your chests would meet each other. "What color, Spencer?" you said, languidly drawing lines up and down his torso with your nails."G-Green, Very green." He sputtered out, finally meeting your eyes."That's what I like to hear, sweet boy." You said before your fingers danced below his waistline, now somewhat crusty from his cum."W-wait!" He says, just as you were about to take him in your hand. You instantly stopped and looked up at him gently."We can stop here baby, it's not a problem." You said, beginning to remove your hand from his pants. He grabbed your hand through his pants, stopping your movement."It-It's not that. I don't want to stop, I just want... well..." He said and looked down shyly. "What do you want baby, anything," You smiled up at him. "Um, I haven't had my first kiss yet and I kinda... Well... I kinda..." He said, shuffling his feet, face beet red. Your eyebrows shot up quickly in surprise before letting out a gentle smile."Do you want a kiss, pretty boy?" You said, gently brushing the hair out of his face. He nodded, and you grabbed his chin, bringing him close. "Use your words, pretty boy. What do you want?" You whispered, breath gently ghosting Spencer's lips as he took you in up close. He could see every little pore and dimple of your skin and every color hidden in the depth of your eyes and he knew he needed to have you.

He shakily leaned forward, lips gently meeting yours, so light that if you hadn't seen his actions, you wouldn't have even known if you had touched. You moved your hand down to his throat, giving a light squeeze."Come on genius, use your words," you said as he whimpered. "Please, can I kiss you, please, please?" He begged, leaning into your touch, pleading for you to squeeze again. His efforts shoot straight to your heart. You indulged him in a kiss, not as spicy as the situation would permit, more of a sweet heat. He came in too hot and heavy at first, but you kissed him languidly, gently stroking his cheek to get him in the rhythm. His arms were straight out at his sides, hands clenched as if he was willing every muscle in his body to not touch you.

You let out a small laugh as you melted into his kiss, soft, puffy lips dancing across yours. "You know you can touch me," You said, pulling back, smiling at the smear of your lipstick, now staining his lips, and the endearing puppy dog eyes he was giving you. "Where can I touch you?" He whispered out as if he were telling a secret. "Wherever you want, baby. Wherever your heart desires." You replied, bringing your arms up to wrap loosely around his neck, pulling your bodies closer. He was as stiff as a board as his hands flitted around trying to find a good place to land. He finally settled on weaving his arms around your waist and up to cradle your neck, gently carding his fingers through the hair that fell at the nape of your neck. There was something so sweet in the way he cradled your body with feather-light touches as if you would disappear like smoke if he lingered too long. You reveled in the feeling of you two pressed together, slightly uncomfortable at the stiff material of his pajama pants on your stomach.

"Hey sweetheart," You said, pulling away as he chased after your lips, "I'm feeling kinda sweaty from the day, would you like to join me in the shower? What color?" "G-green, yes please." He said, tentatively pressing a kiss to your collarbone, exposed as the strap of your tank top had fallen down. You unwound from him, taking his hand delicately in your own, instantly missing the warmth his body provided.

You lead him into the bathroom, carefully stepping over the wine-soaked towels discarded on the floor before shutting the door and turning to face him. "I don't want to take this too fast for you because I know it's all very new so always tell me how you are feeling and if everything is ok. I want this to be good for you baby, ok?" You said, squeezing his hand that was still intertwined with yours. "Ok, th-thank you," He said shyly.

"Now, what do you want to do first? You're probably pretty uncomfortable in those pants, do you want me to take them off you?" You said, hooking one of your fingers into his waistband, pulling on in slightly creating a much-needed separation between his sticky cock and his uncomfortable pants."Y-Yes please" He said as you turned on the shower, allowing it to warm up in preparation for cleaning him off before turning back to him. You gently grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless in front of you.

Lean muscles were hidden under a layer of peachy soft skin highlighting the gentle trail of dark curly hair leading from his belly button down past his pants. His arms curled around himself as he watched your eyes carefully, ready for some sort of judgment. "I know I'm not really that s-strong or anything but I can work on it-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss right above his belly button, startling him. You looked up sweetly into his eyes and gave him a soft smile, saying "You are so beautiful, Spencer. Morgan calls you pretty boy, but he truly has no idea. I would have you no other way than you are right now."

You gently peppered his chest with feather-light kisses, making him blush. He finally understood why people liked hickeys because as you trailed down his chest, the little wine red lipstick you had left on your lips left marks trailing down his chest. Some part of him wished they were permanent, showing off to all that could see, and they would know exactly who he belonged to. You dipped your hand into his waistband, asking, "What color?" "Green, very green," he choked out as your breath ghosted across his abdomen. You looked so beautiful, kneeled on the floor in front of him, taking care of him so gently and treating him so sweetly that he could feel his cock begin to harden again.

You looked up into his eyes as you pulled his pants down. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he was uncaged from his unfortunate trouser situation. His cock flipped down out of his pants, nearly smacking you in the forehead as you looked up at it in awe. Even though it was only semi-hard, it was bigger than any you had ever seen before. Spencer looked down at you shyly "it's not that much, I-I know but I've been researching techniques to make up for it in order to give sufficient pleasure for you- I mean for whatever partners I may have, not that I am saying that I won't please you, I dream of pleasuring you! ... I'm digging myself a hole aren't I."He rambled, rubbing the back of his neck worriedly. "Spencer, you are huge. Way more than I have ever had before. See?" You said, standing up, gently lifting his cock in your hand, measuring it against your stomach.

Maybe Spencer hadn't noticed because it was proportionate to his body and his big hands, but being held in your petite hands and measured against your stomach, he finally did see how much he would fill you up. The tip of his dick just barely reached past the gems that decorated your belly button piercing. "W-Woah." He said growing harder at the thought of pushing so deep into you. He looked up to your face, which was preoccupied with looking down at how far he would reach up in you.

Tearing your eyes away from him and up to his own, you flushed, knowing that he had caught you staring. "What would you like me to do next?" You spoke softly. Despite being the only two in the room, you two both talked in hushed tones, worrying that anything more than that would burst the delicate bubble you two had created. "Can we match?" He said, and you instantly understood him, despite the odd vernacular. You began to slip off your shirt, but he stopped you with an arm on your shoulder. "C-Can I do it?" He said shyly. "Of course, pretty baby," you barely get out before he drifted his hands under your tank.

He slowly lifted your top over your head as he took in the soft smooth feeling of your skin against his, goosebumps pricking up wherever his fingers trailed. You stood in front of him, shirtless as he took in your form. He had imagined what your breasts would look like. Nipples always hard due to your piercings, what your jewelry would look like, but nothing could prepare him for the glimmering moonstone gems that adorned your nipples and navel. Everything matched exactly, including the delicate necklace you wore around your neck.

The only thing he liked more than the perfection of your body was the features that made you, you. Some might call them imperfections, but to Spencer, all he could see in you was beauty. The gentle bruises on your skin from tangles with unsubs, the soft stretch marks that adorned your hips like little valleys and winding rivers, the slight blemishes, and hairs. He loved it because you were the embodiment of the confidence he wished for in himself. While he was always nervous about his body and how others perceived him, you loved yourself for exactly who you were, and you loved him for exactly who he was.

He pulled down your pants, gently following the twist and turn of the stretch marks as they winded down your hips, making sure to kneel down to pull them all the way off of you as you delicately stepped out, gently grabbing onto his hair to keep your balance as you swayed. He moaned softly at the gentle tug of your fingers while he stared up at you in awe. You took his hand in yours, coaxing him to stand.

You both stood there, taking in each other's forms for a moment, hands still connected as if by a thread at the pinky before you spoke. "We shouldn't waste water. Let me clean you off, sweetheart." He nodded before following after you into the gentle spray of the shower, steam now filling the room. He marveled at the way that the water droplets cascaded down your body, gently running down your curves. "Come here," you said, pulling him into a gentle embrace under the hot water.

Your two bodies pressed gently together, and Spencer couldn't help but think that you were molded for each other. Not in the way that a sculptor may stick two unmatched pieces of clay together with slip, more like one rock that had been split by the earth finally returning together. Something about your touch felt like home as you gently cradled him under the water.

He was so enthralled in your being that he didn't notice you gently scrubbing him with a washcloth until the scent of your body wash permeated the air. You gently scrubbed his back, washing off the sweat of the day and replacing it with you. He melted into you as your hands reached up, lathering his hair with shampoo. He wasn't sure if it was because he realized you should probably be getting washed too or because he desperately wanted to ride his hands along the planes of your body, but he decided to lather up his hands and wash you as well. "You are such a good boy. Thank you for cleaning me up" You said, resting your head gently on his chest, softly swirling the soap around his back, now finished scrubbing all you could from that angle, waiting to turn him around.

He moved carefully, avoiding your butt, still too nervous to touch. "Make sure you get everything, sweet boy. I like to be clean when I go to bed." You said, gently grabbing his hand and pulling it down to cup your butt. He inhales a sharp breath as he indulged in a gentle squeeze, continuing to wash you. He washed your back but his hands would occasionally drift down to your ass, growing more confident as he unknowingly rocked into you slightly with every squeeze, letting out soft keening noises.

You peeled yourself off of him as he rutted into the air, whining at the loss of friction. "Slow down, naughty boy. Bad boys don't get to touch. Are you a bad boy?" you asked as you placed a finger on the tip of his cock, swirling it in the precum pooling there despite the water's efforts to wash it off. "No, no! I'm a good boy! You're just so pretty, and you feel so good, and you smell so nice, and I wanna touch you, and I want you to touch me, please." He blurted out, looking at you with hungry eyes, begging for more friction. "Where do you want to touch me baby?" you asked as his eyes raked over your body, taking in all of his options. "I want to touch your boobies and your- your-" "My what? You can say it, naughty boy." You cut him off in his stammering. "Your pussy, I want to touch your pussy." He said, the hot water spreading the blush from his cheeks down his chest, tingeing his cock with a pretty pink hue. "What naughty words from such a pretty boy. You can touch-" he cut you off, lunging towards your body before you grabbed him by the throat, squeezing experimentally. Not too hard, not too soft. He moaned, and you felt the vibrations traveling up your hands."Let me finish what I was saying. Naughty boys don't get to touch. They get spanked." You said as he mewled." What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted was that you can touch, AFTER I wash you and after you finish washing me. Only after, you got it?" you said, squeezing a little tighter. "Y-yes." he croaked out. "Good boy," you replied.

You washed out the shampoo in his hair, replacing it with conditioner as he did the same for you. You squirted more soap onto your washcloth, preparing to test him. You took the washcloth in your hand, slowly working over his legs, arms, and chest, teasingly brushing over his overspent cock before returning to cleaning him. He washed you thoroughly, taking care to wash your legs before making sure your stomach and belly button piercing were thoroughly cleaned. Finally, he reached up to wash the leftover makeup off of your face. He touched you like a porcelain doll, worried that you would crack under even the slightest pressure, making you giggle. He flinched, thinking he hurt you, but you grabbed his face in your hands, delivering him a kiss that covered his face in soap.

You both stood there, laughing for a second, relishing the moment before you let out a shy smile. "You can touch my chest now, but make sure you clean my piercings carefully." He looked down at your chest, and now that he'd been given permission, he didn't really know what to do. You could see the puzzled look on his face so you grabbed one of his soapy hands in yours and brought it to your breast. He squeezed experimentally, and you let out a gentle moan. You had been keeping in your arousal to draw out his teasing, but you couldn't hold yourself back as you felt his large hands grasp around your chest and roll your nipple in his fingers.

There was a sweet dichotomy in the harshness of his grasp on your boob, coupled with the gentle twist of your nipple. It was as if he was worried to hurt your piercings, so he made up for it in his grasp. You brought the washcloth down to his cock, hard against his stomach, and began to work him. He whined at the harsh material. "I need to clean you up, baby. You still have a cummy cock. If you beg hard enough when I'm done, I will touch you." You said into his ear as he rested his head on your shoulder.

He was overstimulated, and you could tell, so you decided you wouldn't take as long as you wanted to tease him. But you would still draw it out for your own pleasure. He was bucking and mewling into you as you roughly got him off. It shot you straight to your core, the heat from the shower mixed with his grasp on you, physically and visually, had you closer than you wanted, and deep down you just wanted him to touch you.

When you deemed him clean enough you let the rag drop to the floor. "Beg" you moaned out. "Please, please touch me, I want your hand on me, that's all I want." He whined, bucking into the air. You took pity on him, grasping him with your soap-covered hand. He hissed as your soft touch replaced the rough rag and you could tell he was close. "Touch me, Spencer." You said and his hand shot to your core. His tentative moves giving way to a natural confidence. As he slipped a hand between your folds he could feel you dripping with desire. "O-Oh my god," was all he could stammer out before sinking two of his fingers into your depths, thumb circling your clit. You knew his fingers were long, and you had even fantasized about this exact moment, but nothing could prepare you for his actual length. He had said he did research but that was proven by how quickly he found your g spot and clit. You doubled over in pleasure as his fingers thoroughly fucked you out.

"Spencer, I'm so close, baby. Be a good boy and make me cum." You said, slumping against his shoulder, rubbing yourself against his hand. "Mommy, I'm cumming." He said, looking into your eyes as his body shuttered. His words ricochetted around in your brain, sending you over the edge as you cum all down his hand. You bit into his shoulder to muffle your scream, just as he matched you, cumming down your hand.

You came down from your high as Spencer nearly collapsed onto you. You took extra care in making sure he was all clean before helping him out of the shower and into a towel. He leaned against you the whole time as you got him ready for bed. You forced him to brush his teeth before dragging him to bed.

He sat at the edge, eyes bleary with sleep, taking in the events of the day. You sat behind him, gently toweling off his hair before brushing it and putting lotion on his body. He leaned into your touch, appreciating being cared for, feeling as if everything had been a dream. "C-Can I sleep here? I mean Morgan locked me out and I don't have pants and-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss."Of course, sweetheart, do you want to cuddle? It's ok if you don't or if you want this to be a one-time thing, it's all up to you, baby." You said, gently sweeping his hair out of his face as he looked up with eyes the size of dinner plates. "We can do this more than once? You'll let me? For real?" He asked. "Only if you want to sweetheart. This is all about you." You said, giving him a small smile tinged with a slight sadness. "That's not very fair, I want it to be about you too. What do you want?"

The question knocked you off guard. You're not used to people asking what you want. Usually, people just take and give none in return. The fact that Spencer Reid, your adorable virgin coworker was asking you what you wanted with such a sincere look, caused tears to prick into your eyes. "No one has asked me that in a long time," you smiled, "I would love to do this, and more again with you Spencer. Whenever you want." He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down so you were lying next to each other on the bed. "Whenever we want" He corrected, cuddling into you.

You surveyed the bite make you left on his shoulder, running your hand over it. "Sorry for marking you up, I didn't mean to hurt you." You said softly as he blushed. "I-I was actually wondering... well... could you maybe give me a hickey? I like that you marked me." He said. You obliged him, giving him long kisses and sucks, gradually working up your force until a large purple bruise had formed on his collar bone. He was gently moaning the whole time, but you didn't want to work him up again as he had already cum twice that night and you didn't think he could handle more. He looked down at it as you pulled away, and you could see a question lingering on his mind.

"What's up?" you asked, smoothing his hair with your hand. "You said you hadn't been asked what you want in a long time, and I was wondering, well... who gave you your piercings?" he asked tentatively and you laughed." You have been reading my book too much, how many chapters have you read?" You said and he looked up at you surprised."You knew? and... well... only 3 chapters. I didn't want to pry into your private life." He said. "You just pried enough to know I want to get pierced by someone?" You asked raising an eyebrow. Before he could get an excuse out, you cut him off. "Well for a genius, you obviously didn't read it that carefully. I said I WOULD like to be pierced during sex, meaning I have not before. These are just standard piercings from a piercing shop, not a big deal, I just like the way they look." You said and he let out a sigh of relief. "Why? d'you get jealous?" you questioned him. He looked down and nodded shyly.

"I can be a lot of firsts for you but if you play your cards right, you can be a lot of firsts for me too. You already gave me a first tonight. You called me mommy. No one's done that before but it was really hot. I liked it a lot." You said matter of factly. "But that is a conversation for another day. It is 2 am and we need to be on a flight at 7:30, so let's get some sleep." You said, turning off the lights and cuddling up close to him. In a matter of seconds, you both were asleep, tangled into each other's arms, both of you feeling, for once, safe and sound.

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Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Well wasn't that a doozy. I had so much fun writing that and I think it paid off for sure. Shoot me a message if you want to be added to my beloved tag list, speaking of which.

@spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #sub spencer #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #sub!spencer #pervspence #pervespencer #perve spencer reid #perv spencer reid

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gatesofember · 2 years ago

Text

And Now...a Sneak Peak at Clichecore AU Chapter 10! (Super Special Tumblr Exclusive Early Access)

helloooo. since I haven't gotten anything posted recently I'm sharing the beginning of chapter 10 with you guys early. oh here's the actual fic if you want it

Trick-or-treating officially ended at nine—none too soon, as Drew was threatening to commit a felony if she had to listen to The Monster Mash again. By the time the last of the families had left the youth center and they finished packing up the decorations, cleaning their trash, loading everything back in Drew’s car, and fighting their way through traffic to the office, it was well after ten. When Drew whined that the kids had gotten fingerprints all over her bumper, Piper told her she thought it was very kind of Drew to dedicate her time and car to the children for the night. Drew snapped at Piper for calling her kind because she “had a reputation to uphold.”

Nico wasn’t if it would be rude to point out that working at a nonprofit might lead people to that assumption.

After putting the decorations back in his trunk and waving goodbye to his coworkers, Nico got into his car and pulled up Austin’s contact information.

“Why are you calling me in the middle of the night on Halloween?” was how Austin answered the call.

“It’s not the middle of the night yet,” Nico said. “Pronouns?”

“He/him. Is Will okay? Is that why you’re calling?”

“What?” Nico asked, frowning out his windshield. “Will’s fine. He’s at work.”

“Oh, thank god,” said Austin. “I was scared you were going to tell me he ODed at a Halloween party.”

“What? Why would you think that? You know how responsible Will is with drugs.”

“Yeah, but you can’t just call me in the middle of the night and expect me not to freak out.”

“Do you think I only talk to you because of your brother?” Nico asked. That was kind of offensive. He was admittedly not great at figuring out the line between friends and friendly acquaintances, but he was pretty sure he and Austin were somewhere on the “friends” side of the spectrum.

“Then why are you calling, if it’s not about Will?” Austin asked.

Nico hesitated. “Well. It’s kind of about Will,” he admitted, and Austin laughed on the other end of the line. “Austin, listen. Shut up, stop laughing. I need help. I want to set things up so Will can celebrate Día de los Muertos, but I don’t know how.”

“Hang on,” said Austin. “You’ve lived with Will for seven years. Are you telling me you’ve never celebrated Día de los Muertos with him?”

“You’re making me sound like a shitty friend,” said Nico. “Three of those years we were in college and there was always an ofrenda on campus that students used, but Will didn’t have time to do things the way your family does at our apartment. Then four years ago, we had an ofrenda and Will printed out some pictures that your dad sent him, but he couldn’t do much else because he was busy working. The next year we had even less time, and since then, we haven’t done anything. He’s never put out Lee’s picture. And I thought...well, he happens to have the day off tomorrow and I just saw something that reminded me of Día de los Muertos, so I thought maybe I could surprise him by getting a few things ready so he can celebrate.”

Austin sighed. Nico cringed.

“Is it a bad idea?” he asked.

“Nico,” Austin said. “That’s very sweet, but Mihcailhuitl usually takes days of preparation. Weeks, even. And our family starts welcoming the children today, remember? We start earlier than most people.”

Nico grimaced. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “We’d be starting late. But he has a night shift the day after tomorrow, so we’d have some time to celebrate then, too, as long as it’s low-key. He won’t want to be tired for work.”

“Okay,” Austin said slowly, like he was thinking. “Yeah. I suppose I can lend my assistance to a poor, clueless white person in need. You’ll probably make the world’s saddest tamanal, but Will is such a softie that he’ll cry tears of happiness no matter what. You guys should Facetime me tomorrow. Maybe we could have a family call with everyone.”

“Well, what if I come pick you up instead?” Nico asked.

“You mean like now?”

“Sure, unless you have plans you can’t get out of for tomorrow or the next day,” Nico said. “I don’t mind staying up late to drive over and I know Will would love to see you. We can go on a midnight run to some stores and pick up whatever supplies we need and then you can crash with us. It would be nice for you two to talk about Lee. Right?” Nico paused and added, “That was a legitimate question. Would that be nice? Am I being too invasive?”

“It would be nice,” said Austin. “I haven’t celebrated since he died, either. And I really don’t want to leave you to fuck up Mihcailhuitl. I can always rearrange my schedule since I’m self-employed, so—”

“Self-employed?” Nico asked flatly. “You mean an influencer?”

“Self-employed musician with a significant social media following,” Austin corrected.

“You mean the social media your paycheck comes from?”

“You’d better start being nice to me if you want my help, asshole,” Austin growled. “Come pick me up. I’ll pack a bag.”

Austin was waiting outside his apartment dressed in a pair of sweatpants and an off-the-shoulder sweater that looked too stylish to be effortless when Nico pulled up. When Austin opened the car door, he took one look at Nico, then forced him to get out and give a fashion show so he could shower him with compliments. As per usual, the size of Austin’s bag was far too large for a two-night stay. Nico tried to tease him about it, but Austin just rolled his eyes and said, “Nico, we’ve discussed the genderfluid overpacking dilemma before. Besides, I’m bringing my laptop and headphones so I can get some work done.”

They drove back across the bridge and stopped at a 24-hour grocery store. As they were heading inside, some guy wolf-whistled at Nico, so Nico (who had taken self-defense classes in high school and college) grabbed his wrist, pinned his arm behind his back, kneed him in the crotch, and told him to keep his hands to himself or else he’d break his fingers. When Nico released the guy, he groaned and fell on the pavement. Austin linked his arm through Nico’s and called him a queen, then they walked into the store like nothing had happened.

They gathered supplies they would need to make calavera and the ingredients for tamales, atole, and pan de muerto—Sitzin’s recipe, which Austin was pretty sure he remembered all the ingredients for, but they’d have to call to get the instructions. They managed to find a single bouquet of sad, wilted marigolds and some things to set up the ofrenda before leaving the store and heading back home to Nico and Will’s apartment.

“We’ll share my room tonight so that Will doesn’t know you’re here when he comes home,” Nico said as they put the groceries away in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Austin agreed. “We should stash my things and the rest of the supplies in there then we can surprise him in the morning.”

Before heading to bed, Austin loosened Nico’s corset for him with care and reverence for the garment, but not the firm yet delicate touch that Will had saved for Nico. Austin’s hands didn’t make Nico’s breath catch or his chest feel fluttery like Will’s had.

While Nico glumly mourned the loss of Will’s touch and changed into his pajamas, Austin tried to make himself at home in Nico’s bed by re-homing Nico’s friends.

“Why the fuck do you have so many stuffed animals?” Austin hissed, sweeping his arm across Nico’s bed to shove them to the ground.

Nico gasped in horror. “Gently!” he said, picking up each of his plushies one by one and setting them upright so that they’d be more comfortable.

“How do you even sleep with all of these? You need a bigger bed.”

“If I get a bigger bed, I’ll just fill it with more plushies,” Nico said. “The only thing keeping me from adopting more of them is the lack of space.”

Austin flopped into Nico’s bed and grumbled, “You’re so weird.” He turned his back and covered himself with Nico’s ghost-patterned sheets.

“Thank you,” Nico said as he climbed into bed next to Austin. He shut off his bedside lamp and rolled over to get some sleep.

Sleep didn’t last long. Austin was notoriously bad at bed sharing.

Nico woke up a split second before his body hit the floor next to his bed. Tired, in pain, and really, really confused, Nico stared around in the dark for a moment trying to figure out what had happened until he saw Austin’s hand dangling off the edge of the bed. Scowling, Nico got up and tried to push Austin back to his side. When that failed, he went for a more assertive shove. He thought he was getting somewhere when he attempted to roll him, but it was a slow, exhausting process, Austin slapped Nico’s face in his sleep, and even after flipping Austin over, he still somehow managed to take up the whole bed.

Muttering a few choice curse words to himself, Nico gave up. He put on the zombie slippers he’d worn the evening before, grabbed Fuzzy, and stalked off to Will’s room to try and catch a few hours of sleep before Will came back home. He set an alarm on his phone to go off around the time Will’s shift ended, then burrowed under Will’s covers with Fuzzy in his arms, happily soaking up the bed’s warmth and drinking in the scent clinging to Will’s sheets.

But in his sleep-deprived state, Nico forgot to set the alarm tone to the bloodcurdling horror movie scream he always used. This was unfortunate because Nico slept like the dead and he had yet to discover another sound potent enough to wake him up.

He was jolted out of his slumber yet again when Will quite literally fell on top of him, apparently so tired from an exhausting night shift at the hospital that he didn’t notice the lump in his bed.

When Nico yelped in surprise, Will pushed himself up and tugged down his covers, frowning when he found Nico there. “Nico?” he asked.

“Uh...hi,” said Nico.

Shit. How was Nico supposed to explain this situation? Should he lie and say that his room had flooded or that someone had broken into their apartment and stolen his mattress but nothing else? No, those weren’t good enough cover stories. Should he gaslight Will into believing this was nothing more than a sleep-deprived hallucination? No, he wasn’t sure he could pull that off. Also, he wasn’t going to gaslight his best friend.

“This is my bed,” Will commented.

“Yeah,” Nico agreed.

“Why are you in my bed?”

“Um.” Nico cleared his throat. “I wanted to cuddle.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. That was the dumbest thing Nico had ever said. What kind of person just climbed into someone’s bed because they wanted to cuddle with them? Will was going to think he was such a freak and then he’d never want to date Nico—

“Yeah, okay,” said Will. “Scoot over.”

Nico shifted to the far side of Will’s bed, taking Fuzzy with him, and Will climbed in next to them.

“Big spoon or little spoon?” Will asked.

“Little,” Nico answered, so Will wrapped his arms around Nico from behind.

Nico was a genius. He should win an award. He was an absolute master of seduction.

And then Nico’s alarm suddenly started going off, presumably having snoozed itself for a while when Nico didn’t react to it. “Is that yours?” Will asked, rolling onto his back. He frowned as he felt around his bedside table searching for the source of the noise.

“Yeah,” said Nico. “Turn it off.”

“Why do you have an alarm set?” Will asked as he jabbed Nico’s screen with his finger and made it fall mercifully silent.

“Wanted to be awake when you came home,” Nico lied.

Will dropped the phone back on the table. “God, that’s so adorable,” he mumbled. He turned back onto his side and pulled Nico in his arms again. He buried his face in the side of Nico’s neck, he slid one of his legs between Nico’s, and then sighed sleepily, his breath caressing Nico’s skin. Soon, Nico felt the soothing rumble of Will’s soft snores against his back.

Nico stayed awake much longer.

#clichecore au #‘exclusive’ I say as though this isn’t a public post

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mxtcha-tea · 4 years ago

Text

and that's how i met you mother

✎desc; love at first sight with shiratorizawa (honestly, not all of them are love at first sight but ignore that)

✎pairing[s]; shiratorizawa 3rd years x f!reader (separate)

✎genre; fluff, crack

✎language[s]; english

✎chef note; just an excuse for me to write lovesick boys💗 (I can’t do Shirabu, Kawanishi and Goshiki’s part cause I ran out of ideas🤸‍♀️🚆)

Ushijima

It would just be a normal day in his class, learning and stuff like usual

Then after the teacher finished explaining and hand out the tasks, he'll went through his pencil case and couldn't seem to find any pen

Ushijima frowned at that and looked throughly in his pencil case but with no luck, there's none

He swore that he had put some inside, maybe his mind slipped a little?

A tap on his shoulder caught his attention as he turned his head around to make eye contact with you

You're holding out one of your pen to him with a neutral look,

"You can have it," Ushijima look at you surprised, does that mean he can just take it from you? That's a little absurd

But he didn't question it and nodded, slowly taking the pen from your hand and continue studying

The pen doesn't really sit right in his hand, it's not being his and literally someone else that he doesn't have the chance to talk to

He'll spare a glance at you every minute (ngl, he's complimenting your side view internally)

And when you caught him looking at him, he'll just blink and slowly look back at his work with a light blush on his cheeks

(Istg it's so cute)

After the class ends and before you can leave for lunch, Ushijima caught your attention first,

"Here, thank you for lending me this. And unfortunately, i can't take it from you"

You're just looking at him with a dumbfounded look before taking the pen from him,

"Ah, no problem, um..." "Ushijima Wakatoshi"

You nodded at that, scratching the back of your head "...Ushijima. And it's [y/n]"

Both of you are just standing there in front of each other but it's not awkward, surprisingly

It's as if you two are waiting for one of you to speak and end the convo

(Spoiler alert; none of you wanted to end the convo since both of you find each other interesting)

You cleared your throat, fiddling with your pen a little, "Okay, see you after this, Ushijima"

He nodded at that and with that, both of you went to your separate ways

'[Y/N], YOU AWKWARD BASTARD! THAT WAS SO EMBARRASSING, I BET HE THOUGHT THAT YOU'RE WEIRD NOW!'

Ushijima's just walking towards the gym with a fairly visible blush across his cheeks as he look down

"Ushijima..."

"[y/n]..."

"I guess he's fine..."

"I guess she's fine..."

Ushijima Current Mission!

Trying to figure what other scenarios he can drag you in to have a convo with you again

Good luck Wakatoshi~!

Tendou

You and Tendou have talked with eachother a couple of times but it's nothing more than that

And Tendou actually want to talk more with you (at first for friendship points but y'know...)

Today, you look more beautiful than ever to him today

It's not like you're not beautiful every other day (he thinks you're pretty so that's why he kept on having a convo with you)

And he caught into that

Somehow, he can't help bet stare at you in a distance and he tried his best to avoid getting caught

(Tendou's scared that you find him creepy for looking at you all the time and he don't want that thought to flood you mind)

Then, you came to him to explain about the work your science teacher gave since she's absent for the time being

And you can bet that he doesn't hear a single thing you said because he's too focused on yourself

It's kinda like in those scenes in manga where the main character stare into the main interest

The main interest looking as beautiful as ever with flowers around them

Pretty eyes, angelic face, kissable lips

For him, you're perfect and he even thought that you might be an angel in disguise

No matter how you even see yourself, he would always think that you're fascinating, adorable, enticing—

"Tendou, are you okay?"

The redhead snapped out from his thought and got caught by you

By now, his face is literally mocking his hair color as he chuckled nervously,

"Ah, I'm fine! It's just that..."

He was about to stop mid sentences but thankfully he still got that crumbs of courage and just goes with it,

"...you look pretty today,"

Tendou said with a closed eyes smile, peeking an eye open and trying to see your reaction (ngl he's nervous)

You blinked

Before you literally exploded at that which is what make him surprised in his seat

You fake coughed, looking away and avoiding eye contact,

"Thanks...."

[love meter +10!]

If this is an actual manga or anime, there could've been hearts dancing around him

Timeskip to Tendou at his home and squealing quietly to himself (he can't let his family hear him fanboying for someone in his school lmao)

"We're totally going to marry 3 years from now on~" he says to himself in the mirror with so many confidence

(I just love it when Tendou act like that, let him have his moment)

"Haha, thank you gods for creating me and [y/n] in the same world,"

Tendou's Current Mission!

Getting to know you better and give tons and tons of compliments, just like in the simulations! Specifically otomes and dating games

Try your best Satori~!

Semi

It was another day, another practice session

Except that it went longer than Semi expected, he managed to run from the gym to the main entrance

But before he can even put on his shoes, heavy rain started pouring down

He look at the dark grey sky, resting his forehead onto the shoe locker with one shoe already in his foot while the other in his hand

Sighing, Semi thought about asking to come with Tendou and Yamagata since he didn't bring his umbrella

But on second thought, he realized that they prolly forgot theirs too

And all 3 of them have to run under the rain again like last time

Yamagata and Tendou: "We can avoid the rain if we're fast enough!"

He shivered at that their words and the thought of getting terribly sick again

And before Semi's brain can process a strategy for himself, he was caught off guard when an umbrella was opened next to him,

"Ah sorry,"

In those few seconds, everything went slow motion when your eyes catches his

(He swore it felt like in the anime)

He can feel his cheeks flushing a little but thanks to the wheater, it's not obvious

"Hello?" Semi snapped from his thoughts, shaking his head before focusing on you again,

"Sorry, sorry, um—" "You don't have an umbrella?"

He blinked, shaking his head slightly

It's a pretty peaceful staring between you two with the rain hitting the ground as background sounds

Until you lift your umbrella up, and pointed at the small spot next to you with your thumb,

"Here, I'll help you,"

"Eh?"

Semi was flabbergasted a little at your statement but would he decline it?

Of course not,

"Just tell me where your house is then I help you go there,"

And that's how he find himself back at his house's entrance with you in front of him,

"And that's why I just let you walk with me for the afternoon,"

"Is that so, oh wait! I haven't known your name, and you prolly haven't known my name either..."

He scratched the back of his neck before looking at you with a smile,

"The name's Semi Eita, thanks for the walk back home,"

Your lips parted a little before in turns into a tooth rotting smile,

"[y/n], no problem and thanks for the company, Eita,"

An arrow pierced through his heart as his face is literally the color of Tendou's hair

And just like that, you left him on the entrance with a funny expression upon his face

Cutting the scene to Semi punching his pillow (rip pillow)

"You already caught me off guard already but you really had to look at me like that...."

Semi's Current Mission!

Try to find you the next day after first period and try not to be awkward with you and his convo after the eventful day

You can do it Eita~!

Yamagata

Let's just say that,

Yamagata went through the late anime girl scenario

But with his toast falling down from his mouth while running towards his school

And his stamina almost running low despite being a volleyball player and a libero

(His house's prolly far from his school, cut him some slacks sheesh)

He's pretty much stumbling a lot when he enters the school and speed walking up the stairs

Some of the students look at him weirdly but that doesn't become his main concern because a strict teacher is going first

Yamagata's almost there, almost reaching his classroom's door

But god had other plans and place an invisible rock in front of him

And as you can tell, he slipped on it and now facepalming the floor

(The sound is so loud my lord)

He groaned, shaking a little while trying to sit up from his position

The male look up and is now face to face with you, who's looking down at him

Okay he might be delusional from the impact but is he actually looking at an angel right now?

"Dude, you okay? That's gotta hurt from the sound that it made—"

Your words drowned inside his mind as he widened his eyes with pink tints decorating his cheeks

'This...THIS IS IT!'

"—also I think your nose is bleed—"

"PLEASE MARRY ME!!"

You flinched at that but keep a calm face, a little bit concerned that he may hit his head too hard

While Yamagata is just having heart eyes for you, sparkles around him after saying those words almost too confidently

He doesn't know what's in him that make him think that you're the one,

But he definitely can feel it

You sighed, crouching down while searching through your pocket and pulling out a small pack of tissues,

"I think we're going so fast right now but no, maybe 5 years later or never,"

"Does that mean you agree??"

"I don't know, you're handsome but also stupid, a himbo I think,"

You wipe away the blood dripping down his nose, taking his arm, opening it and put the bloodied tissue on it before closing it, giving a light tap,

"Now go to the nurse office,"

"Will you be there for me?"

"No,"

You help him stand up, dusting his shoulder and walk away as if nothing happened

Yamagata watches you from the distance with a lovesick smile

Tendou laughed behind him with Ushijima and Reon next to him and Semi looking at Yamagata, confused,

"Hayato, I have no idea if you had your alarm on but you just came to school during recess,"

"She's perfect...also, I think I need to go to the nurse right now cause my head hurts,"

Yamagata's Current Mission!

Marry [y/n]

Have fun, Hayato~!

Reon

(He will have the best love at first sight cause I say so)

It was the school festival and it's lively in every corner of the school, the outside, inside the classrooms, even the hallways

Reon had just finished his part of his classroom and now can walk around to enjoy the festival

Honestly, it's a pretty normal day to him despite being the school's festival

The students of Shiratorizawa has always been this lively so it's good that they can be keep the atmosphere as how it is like any other days

Since the others are still working on their parts, Reon was all by himself

Sure, the quiet sounds without Tendou, Semi and Yamagata is fine but he prefer it being loud anyway

A short of way to fill in the boring silence

But what's the bad thing to enjoy the peace once in a while?

So he take a small walk outside the Shiratorizawa building

Stalls decorated the outside with students busy serving the customers

He was greeted by some of them as he greeted them back with a warm smile

Hands inside his pocket while looking at the sky every few seconds

Baby blue sky with fluffy white clouds, it is the spring afterall

It was at that moment where he turn his head around and caught your eyes

It was something between those few seconds that a lighting strike between the string connecting you two for a second

Reon knew he did from the moment you two clashed with each other so suddenly

It was...not love at first sight exactly,

But rather, familiarity, like,

'Oh, hello, it's you. It's going to be you,'

The staring prolly lasted more than he expected before you snapped out from your thought, shaking your head,

"Sorry! Didn't mean to..." "But you didn't do anything?" He rose an eyebrow, smiling sheepishly and watch your panic slowly dissolves

"Well, technically yeah but It was bad of me to stare off at you like that,"

He chuckled, your heart clenching at that,

"Don't worry, I think I did it too...maybe both of us did,"

"Ah, yeah! Probably..." you fiddled with your fingers, visibly nervous facing him since he's basically a stranger even tho being in the same school,

"Reon Oohira," "Eh?" You look at him with confusion at first, while he just offers you a smile,

"My name, since we have...how to say it, meet each other? And I don't want to make you uncomfortable after all that so I think it's best if we introduce ourselves,"

Your heart's basically beating out loudly that you'll afraid that he'll hear it

But, that doesn't seem so bad, does it?

You mirrored his smile, this time more confidently than before,

"[y/n] [l/n], nice to meet you Reon!"

"Please,"

Reon put his hand onto your head, "Just call me Hira,"

You fainted

"She's interesting, I love her,"

Reon's Current Mission!

Get to know you better and honestly, there's nothing else to do after that other than asking you out

You'll do great, Oohira~!

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu crack #shiratorizawa #shiratorizawa x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #tendou x reader #tendou satori #semi x reader #semi eita #yamagata x reader #yamagata hayato #reon x reader #reon oohira

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enigma-im · 4 years ago

Text

Eighth day of Christmas...

Trope: Heat (NSFW) Relationship: Werewolf x Human Word Count: 7,058

I knew the moment I stepped off the bus that I was in trouble. From the horrid heat and melting pot of people, this was going to be a challenge. The dry air nearly made me cough the second I got off the steps. Everyone seemed as annoyed with the environment as I, which is a small relief. Looking around at all the people was both a relief and a nightmare. We all had no idea what was going on but I knew I stood out like a sore thumb.

"You," someone shouts, silencing the crowd. I look around till I spot a hardened older Soldier making his way towards me. The crowd splits before he can charge through. The man glares daggers at me before stopping uncomfortably close.

"Me," I ask, pointing to myself with unease.

"Yes, you," he shouts," what other mutts around here would I be talking to?"

"Right," I nearly drop my shoulders," what do you need?"

"I wanted to get a look at the first werewolf soldier who gets to become my guard dog for this year," he answers, appraising me with discontent," I expect excellence from you, mutt, this few months you will be chewed up and spit out a better dog than a better man. You have big shoes to fill, guiding your kind into the future and not a single one of us will give you an inch or centimeter to make mistakes. Do I make myself clear, private!"

I feel a bit wobbly at his words," uh, yes."

The man leans closer to my face, shouting despite the distance," What was that, mutt? Stand tall, be loud! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," I stand at attention, my stomach rolling into knots.

"That's better," he steps back," Now follow me."

The crowd splits again as the Drill Sargent stomps onward. As he passes, the young men and women look to me, a good mix of intrigued and disgust decorates the group. I straighten my shoulders and march after the man, keeping my head held high with pride.

The first werewolf to join the military, I got a lot to prove.

Conversation with the higher-ups of the camp was tense. I didn't expect it to go as well as it did, though a few sly jokes were made at my expense. They were all weirdly supportive of having me at the grounds, looking forward to trying out their new regimen for my kind. Having a stronger and more capable creature in their boot camp came with its own challenges it seems. They all seem excited to see what I can do.

A lot was explained, trying their best to just keep things running smoothly. No one was going to go easy on me and I'm expected to surpass even the best of their squads. I'm oddly invigorated to take on this challenge.

"With everything all situated, is there anything else we may need to know," the Executive officer asks. He is a sweet man, to my surprise, and has been appreciatively thorough with his preparations.

"Yea, we don't want any issues to come about with having you here. A lot of the soldiers are looking to make an example of you already, though you've done nothing wrong. So if there is anything we have to prepare for then please make light of it now," the senior drill sergeant explains.

"Nothing that I can envision happening here. I'm here to work and become the first in a line of werewolves to join the armed forces. Things will remain respectable on my end so if anything does go wrong I promise it won't be my fault," I answer. A big moment like this I can't even fathom screwing it up with some stupid actions. Let the people make their jokes and rude comments, I'm not bothered in the slightest.

"So we aren't going to catch you humping one of the other recruit's legs, right," the senior drill sergeant jokes.

"Don't want you going into heat and trying to fuck every woman in a mile radius of you," the executive officer joins in. I smile despite the discomfort, shaking my head before explaining.

"No, no, I may turn into a big mutt but I'm not so savage as to do something like that. Don't believe the women would be too receptive to me doing such a thing either. When little Fido does it, it's funny. When I do it, it's enough to get me sent to jail," I joke with them. The two laugh, easing some of the tension.

"But you do go into heat, don't you," senior drill sergeant asks," we look out for medical emergencies and if that will become an issue, let us know ahead of time."

I shake my head," no, that won't be an issue. We only go into heat for a specific person and finding them here would be one hell of a terrible time but I highly doubt it will actually happen. I'm sure I would have smelled them in the crowd if so."

"Specific person," the officer snickers," how romantic, Fido."

"Sounds romantic but I've seen some friends go into rut over their mates, it's not that romantic," I wince, remembering all the fights," it's not a hallmark movie moment, sir."

The officer cocks a brow, wary," I'm almost tempted to ask but I'll refrain for now. Either way, I'll have sergeant Crews bring you to your barracks, and hopefully, we won't have to speak again anytime soon."

I drop off my things at my bunk, sorting them into a chest before heading off to P.T.

The first week of basics is easy, though I'm warned about next week after some miss placed words. My squad takes to me nicely, though I can do without the nicknames. It's a better week than I could hope for after the horror stories from active duty members.

We all sit in the crowded mess hall. Murmurs of conversations can be heard over the disgusting chomping of food. In times like this, I almost wish I didn't have such great hearing. The wet slobbering is beginning to turn my stomach.

"Hey, Spot, is it true you transform on the full moon," Casey, a fellow recruit, asks beside me. I snort, picking at the slop on my tray.

"No, I can do it whenever I want," I answer," full moon thing was for you people to pin some other garbage on the magnetic effects the moon has on the earth."

"oh, wow, movies lied to me again," he lightly bangs his hand on the table," what about silver? Does that do anything for ya?" I scoff, looking at him a bit amused. It has been a lot of teasing but I haven't had anyone sit down and ask before.

"No, silver doesn't do anything for me. Neither does holy water, crosses, or garlic," I tease. Casey rolls his eyes, looking back to his meal with a pout.

"I'm not an idiot, those are for vampires," he grumbles. I chuckle, amused by this human's questions. As I tease the man some more I catch a wondrous smell.

"Besides, I know a normal bullet would work on you anyway," Casey points his fork to me. I can't pay him any mind as I slyly glance around. My heart is racing and pounding against my chest as the smell completely engulfs me. Please no, not now. As I'm looking towards the door I freeze as someone walks behind me. As if everything slowed to a halt I look to the recruit walking over to her table. I can't help but gawk though her attire isn't much to be aroused by.

Brown hair pinned up in a bun and terribly fitted brown and camouflaged clothing. It's meant to be plain and nonattention grabbing but she makes it work. My body thrums with need as I watch her sit at the end of the bench. I can't look away as she eats, looking at her lips like a starved man. I want her, I need her. It's the only thought that runs through my mind.

She couldn't come into my life just a few months later could she?

The whole day I feel like I'm on fire, sickly and distraught. I haven't even been here this long and I feel like I'm about to ruin everything. Surely I can just explain to the XO that I have to deal with this and get right back to basics. I nod, it won't be such a long delay, I'll be right back here shortly.

I head straight to the office, stubbornly marching past the groups still running about. The heavenly smell barely permeates the hot dry air but still nearly knocks me on my ass. My attention snaps straight to her doing push-ups with her squad. She makes quite the sight all sweaty and focused. I can't help but stop and watch.

The squad's drill sergeant walks the rows, screaming motivating insults to them all. My little mate grits her teeth as he passes by, her arms shaking each time they straighten. The sergeant stops before her, crouching down as she stays propped up.

"Getting tired there, private," the sergeant baits," want to take a little break, perhaps?"

"No, sir," she barks out.

"Then get that face in the dirt, let's go," he snaps back at her. The urge to run to the man and deck him in his hooked nose is strong. I have to shake my head of the thought to actually get some semblance of control. She gets back to her exercise, going hard and strong into her next set with a stiff focus on her face. It's admirable to see anyone as determined as she looks. It picks at my heart a bit.

I'm not just taking away this chance for me momentarily but her too. Would she want to take the time off to deal with me? It can't be that big of an issue but starting over has to be something she rather not do. I sure as hell don't want to start the week over even if it wasn't too difficult. She is human so it had to be hell for her. I hum, chewing my cheek.

With fist clenched I turn away from the offices and head back to my barracks. I'll just wait this out, three months is nothing. I can keep my cool that long.

I kept that line of thinking all up till I got to my bunk. The barracks are quiet, the snores of the recruits barely registering to my non-idle thoughts. Every part of me is racing, my heart, thoughts, limbs. I have way too much energy to just sit here. Closing my eyes does nothing but let the thoughts keep me up. I've never had such an issue before, especially here.

Staring up at the ceiling I think of my little mate. She's a cutie, that's for sure. Even with the unflattering get up I can't ignore the appeal of her body. She has strength, as does most of the people here, but watching her do exercises with her squad showed more than just basic strength. I smile to myself as I think about the determined look she had while finishing her set. I have a strong little mate.

I groan as my mind keeps replaying the scene over and over. I can only pray that the rest of the month won't be like this. Turning onto my side I force my eyes closed, trying my damndest to get even a few hours of sleep.

The next week I'm weirdly filled with energy. Every morning I wake up excited to do runs, outpacing everyone by miles as I speed down the dirt track. Exercises become a blessing and every moment I spend sitting down is one where I'm anxious to get back up. The nights are no better, my body humming with unspent energy. It feels amazing to get out there and work.

Sitting at the lunch table I shovel food into my mouth, leg bouncing under the table. I want nothing more than to get back out there and get rid of this energy but lunch is kind of important. As I unflatteringly gulp down the muck an erotic scent ceases my tension. Flowing over my body like a warm shower. I close my eyes, taking in the calm.

"So, I gotta ask," a woman before me asks," do werewolves generally have this puppy energy, or is it just you because watching you hall ass down the track is almost inspiring."

As I open my eyes I'm left gawking at the woman. My beautiful mate sitting just across the table, smirking with her arms crossed. I swallow hard, feeling oddly nervous at this moment. What should I say? Should I say something? She quirks a brow at me, waiting for a reply.

"uh," I clench my pants under the table," depends on the person?"

She hums," is that a question or an answer?"

I straighten," a-a answer, ma'am."

"Hey, lighten up," she knocks on the table," don't need any of the ma'am business. I just wanted to ask, you have been buzzing like a bee this past week and I was kind of hoping it was something I could learn instead of it being genetics." my palms feel clammy the more she speaks. She's so casual, I almost wish she wasn't. I can handle stupid full moon questions over this. I wipe my hand on my pants.

"Sorry, it's all genetics," I give her a half-smile," blessings of the father I'm afraid to say."

She props herself up on crossed arms, her breast squeezing together," so was your mom human? I didn't think you can cross-breed like that." my eyes flick down to her pushed out chest, gulping hard I look down to my hands. I wipe my palms on my pants.

"No, a werewolf can b-breed with anyone," I meet her eyes," just has to be their mate."

"Awe, that sounds cute," she coos. Before she can add anymore the sergeants come in to collect their squads. I watch her look to the crowd, her shoulders dropping. She turns back to me," well, was nice talking with ya, Cujo." with that she leaves.

I remain seated as everyone begins filling out. Looking to my lap I groan in frustration, I never felt more like a measly runt than right now. Couldn't even talk to her and I'm sitting here with a full chub. I look to the crowd once more, catching sight of her turning out of the doorway. Fisting my pants I whimper lowly in my throat.

If I knew talking with her would make things worse then I would have never done it. The night we first spoke was tenser than any before. I feel like ants are crawling all over my skin, my body unbelievably hot. My blankets feel scratchy and too rough on my sensitive skin. I can hardly sleep as all I can think about is that beautiful woman smiling at me from across the table. Her ample chest just perched on her crossed arms. My loins lurch at the thought, aching to a degree I've never experienced.

I fall onto my back, panting as I kick the blanket off myself. Looking down myself in the dark barracks I see the tent in my pants. I groan, thumping my head against the pillow. A boner over a minute conversation with a girl, surely I couldn't stoop so low. I peak at my lap, groaning again as I flex my toes. Perhaps a little attention can soothe the beast?

Timidly I slide my hand down my stomach, fingers sneaking under the hem of my pants. I grab the base of my shaft, squeezing it while slowly closing my eyes. Just have to do this quickly and I got to get some sleep. With the task in mind, I aim for fast. I pump my fist, going harder than I've usually started. My callused hand feels uncomfortable, not helping the smooth glide I need. I take my hands out of my pants and lick my palm before trying again.

I jerk off, feeling itchy and frustrated as I do. I try to get it out and done before anyone can wake up to notice but I can't get into it. Trying a new tactic I relax on the bed. Keeping my eyes shut I slowly pump my fist up and down my shaft, pleased with the torturous glide. An image of my mate sitting across the lunch table pops in my head, my cock twitching at the picture. I admire her harden face, the beauty in her full cheeks when she smiles. I wince as my fingers glide over my tip.

The image shifts as I stare at her tits resting on the table. They are laid bare, her sweet little nipples hard from the cold lunchroom. My cock pulses as I think about reaching over the table to grab her, grazing my hand over her little buds. A whimper tries to bubble out from my throat, the sound surprising. I can't pay it any mind as I imagine tweaking her nipples, watching her face twist in pleasure. In my palm my cock aches, demanding more as I pump harder.

The scene twists, she's bent over the table with her tight ass presented to me. I whimper again, bucking into my fist. A bulge nudges against my hand with every descent. It would be something to investigate if I wasn't so tempted to continue. I picture lining my dick up with her weeping slit, gently pressing my tip in with a retrained grunt. Another whine leaves me, the base of my cock throbbing worst than the rest of me. As fantasy me bottoms out inside her I bite my fist to reject the whimper trying to cry out.

"Fuck," I mumble in a cry. I jerk till I can feel my body shiver in its impending climax, utterly debauched at the fantasy playing out. As I reach my breaking point I grip the hard bulge at the base of my cock, squeezing as hard as I can as I cum in my boxers. My grip pulses as I unload all over myself.

My grip eases slightly as I catch my breath. I feel disgusting as the wet fabric sticks to my tip. Looking down my body I wince at the damp stain. I tug down my pants and catch a look at my still hard dick, I furrow my brow confused. Generally, I'm soft shortly after, not still ragingly hard. I look to the bulge still cupped in my hand. Well, that's new. I test a squeeze. A shot of pleasure jolts up my spine making my head feel fuzzy. I nearly curl into myself at the surprise. That's definitely new.

I take one more glance at myself, wincing at the sight. I'm no fresh pup, I know what's pulsing at my base. I just didn't think it would come out without being buried inside someone. Sighing, I tuck myself away and attempt to get some sleep. I wince at the sticky fabric, suddenly regretting not waiting till a more opportune time to do this.

Circling the track for the 2nd time I catch up with the squad. Everyone is taking a breather, panting hard after the three miles. I casually jog up to them, still vibrating with energy.

"How can you even do this, air bud," Scott grabs at his knees," I knew there would be running but…fuck."

I look at him bemused," air bud?"

"Well it's like my dog, Rufus," another squad member claps me on the shoulder," would just run around for hours once I let him outside." I look between the two.

"I just like running," I answer," I feel rather energetic lately."

We all talk as I bounce on my heels. The sergeant rounds us all up before heading off to the next part of PT.

We begin jumping jacks in our lines, listening to the drill sergeant scream encouragements. Looking off to the side I catch sight of another squad doing their miles. They all seem rather calm, must be their first mile. I watch them go by, just briefly catching sight of my little mate in the middle of the crowd. A smile curls on my face as I watch her run along. Her arms pumping and chest bouncing. A raging need thrums into my veins, my cock standing to attention. I watch her in a daze.

"What are you doing, boy," someone shouts, grabbing me by the back of my shirt. I stumble as I'm tugged backward, torn from my stupor. Catching my bearings I realized I've tried to walk out of formations, ignoring my exercises in favor of following her delicious smell.

"uh," I shake my head," Sorry, saw a squirrel." I half-smile, hoping the joke would land. He grits his teeth, tugging me back in line.

"I'd make you run another set but I think you would enjoy that, instead you're on patrol tonight, Fido," he shouts, walking back down the line," Let's start again, from the beginning. One, two, three…"

Lunch has me excited, feeling like my tail is ready to sprout out and reveal my pleasure. I quickly shovel down my muck, looking around like an eager pup for any sight of her. Spotting her coming out of the line and heading my way I can't help but wipe my face and straighten my clothes. I nearly bounce in my seat as she gets closer.

"So you do have a tail," Scott tugs on something behind me. I grunt, twisting around with a growl. Out of the corner of my eye I catch sight of my fluffy black tail.

"Ah, fuck," I grumble, looking to her coming closer then back at my tail. Without much thought, I pin it between the bench and my thigh.

"Hello, Cujo," she greets," you're endless energy for exercises will never cease to amaze me." she sits down at the table, her tray clanking against the metal. My tail tugs, wanting to break free. I open my mouth to answer, interrupted by someone clapping me on the back.

"Yea, it's making the rest of us look bad. He makes three miles look easy," Tyler jokes as he sits beside me.

"well, it is easy, you guys are just out of shape," she jokes back. I snort, glancing at the offended men on either side of me. My mate has a sense of humor I see.

"haha, hilarious, G.I. Jane," Tyler deadpans.

"It's funny you should say that because I caught you slacking behind your crew today," Scott props his smug face on his hand," it's bad enough they let dogs in the military but you women have a lot more to prove." I can't help but sneer at Scott.

She glares at him, crossing her arms and leaning forward." yea, well what's your excuse, cadet?"

Scott leans forward as well," got a handicap, love, hard to run with three legs."

My mate snorts a chuckle, shaking her head as she grabs her food," What kind souls the higher-ups are to let you join with such a clear handicap."

Scott bounces his brow," you know it, baby. I'll be happy to show you my treatment options, perhaps you can help?" I stiffen at the suggestion, my limbs and chest tightening as Scott continues to flirt. A low rumble climbs up my throat, back arching as I glare at him.

"Think I'll pass, I heard that men with large dicks tend to need too much prep work for a minute of entertainment," she bites back. Scott shrugs as Tyler chuckles, them all going back to their meal. The growl comes out louder, my teeth pricking at my lip as I snarl at him. Scott looks at me, recoiling at the clear aggression.

"You ok, Fido," Scott asks," looks like I'm trying to take your food or something." I feel everyone's eyes on me, confused and concerned. A possessiveness boils under my skin, demanding action against this male. I swallow hard, shaking my head as I glare down at my tray. Reigning back the shift, I shake my shoulders.

"Sorry," I growl," just feeling tense today." everyone nods, quietly eating their meals. I pass a glance to my mate, worried I pushed her away with my lack of control. We look to one another, the edge of her lip tugging up. She looks away with a shy smile gracing her beautiful face. I smile to myself as I eat.

After lunch I go for a run, feeling more anxious than yesterday. I dig hard, making record speed over my fifth mile. My body feels invigorated but anxious as I run. My brain goes a mile a minute, demanding attention to the one person driving me crazy. With Scott's words ringing in my ears all I can do is think about the threat. Someone is encroaching on my territory, challenging my claim.

I shake my head, I haven't claimed her. Hell, I don't even know her name. I run harder. Pictures of her flash through my head, my fantasy of the other night forcing discomfort to my groin. I shake again. Just running isn't doing enough, I need more now.

Slowing to a stop I take off my shirt. Crouching and pressing my fingers to the ground I allow my skin to break. I grunt with my bones snapping and rearranging. The pain feels great, an action my body agrees with greatly. With my claws digging into the dirt and fur bristling in the breeze I bolt down the track on all fours.

cadets and Sergeants gawk as I high tail it around the trail. I breathe heavy, tongue lulled to the side as I hear the air roar in my ears. Everything feels so open and free. This is something I've missed all week. Changing in front of everyone made me feel embarrassed, self-conscious. I'm not like them and proving that could lead to problems. Right now, I couldn't care less. I have other issues to deal with.

After running around for hours I fall in the grass near the tree line, laying on my stomach to bask in the sun. I should be exhausted now, all this mating energy out for the time being. Closing my eyes and resting my chin on my paws I relax. It's a lovely day out.

Sitting there for a moment I feel a burst of energy. I growl. Two hours of running on top of PT this morning, how can I be nearly vibrating with need? This mating business is getting harder and harder to ignore. All I think, hear, smell is her. My cock stirs against my stomach, the hot length pinned to the ground. I growl again.

Making my way to the showers I angrily toss my torn shorts and turn the water on. I step into the cold stream, shocked at the temperature. This should help, I can chill out before patrols tonight. Closing my eyes I press my head against the tiled wall. Not even a second in and I see her. I see her wet and naked before me, giving me eyes and beckoning me forward. I clench my fist and grow as my cock throbs.

"Fine," I grab my erection," you win again."

I jerk myself hard and fast, snarling as I picture pounding into her sweet cunt. Bucking into my fist I imagine her bouncing breast and wonderful cries of pleasure. I need her, I need her so damn bad. Baring my teeth with clenched eyes I feel my base ache. I grab at my knot, pinching it in a tight grip. I can feel my seed go up my shaft, spraying the wall. Whimpering, I pulse my grip on my base, sighing as each drop is let out.

"I can't keep doing this," I whimper," I'm so tired." my cock doesn't soften, even as I turn the water off and dry myself it still aches for her.

Walking the perimeter I look around the dark camp. My uniform feels scratchy and tight as I step. There are bags under my eyes and I'm still filled with energy. I'm tired and hyper at the same time. The walk around the base feels like a dream, hollow and dazed. I'm so sleepy.

The sound of a door opening catches my attention the same time a wonderous perfume punches me in the nose. My head snaps to a shed out a bit of way from the main building. A light is shining out the open door, a shadow cast on the sidewalk. I take another inhale of that sweet scent, my cock pulses.

Like a zombie, I shuffled to the shed. The corners of my vision are distorted as I turn into the doorway. My eyes snap to the person standing at the opposite end next to a shelf. She looks over her shoulder, smiling when she realizes who it is.

"Hey, Cujo," my mate greets," you look like shit, you ok?" she takes a step to me, concerned. A growl snaps out my mouth, my shoulders sagging forward. She recoils, taking a step back. I match her, taking one forward. "Cujo," she tries to say casually but comes out a little worried," you need something from the shed?" I take another step. Her back hits the shelf, startling her as she watches me stalk forward. With all my control out the window, I storm towards her, bracing my hands on either side of her head. My face buries against her neck, taking a large inhale.

"What's your name," I growl out, using the final bit of control I have to ask.

"S-Samantha, my friends call me Sam," she jokes with a timorous hilt. I lick up the taunt tendon of her throat, she shudders. "Cujo," she timidly runs her hand up my arm," what's happening?" I nearly purr at her touch. Her words barely register as I lap at her skin, drunk on her already. I hear the smallest whimper from her, making my ears perk up.

"W-what's your name," she asks as her hand glides up my back to card her fingers through my hair.

"Trevor," I bite at her shoulder," and I can't take it anymore."

"Take what," she says nearly breathless. I can't answer, only having enough thought to grab her thighs and lift her. Her legs wrap around my waist easily, pulling me against her heat. My eyes nearly roll with the friction. With little thought I slowly rock my hips, my tongue licking up her neck to her cheek then licking over her lips. Her fingers tug on my hair, scratching at my skin.

"You want me," she asks. I buck hard into her in answer, she chuckles. "Am I your mate," she asks. A spark starts in my loins at her saying such a thing. Does she accept this? Accept me?

Aching and primed I get her on the ground, licking her as I feel my tail stuck in my pants. My brain is muddled and unfocused, wanting to tear her clothes off and mount her right here. It feels wrong- it feels right. I bite at her shoulder again, frustrated beyond belief as I grind into her.

"S-sam," I whimper," Please."

She tugs on my hair again, snaking her hand under my shirt to pet at my sprouting fur. "What do you want, Trevor," she asks.

"You," I dig my teeth into her skin," you, you, you."

She laughs, rubbing her cheek against mine," then have me, big boy."

In a flurry of need, lust, want, I rip her shirt. I can't bring myself to feel guilty as her nearly naked torso is before me. I lather at her chest, plucking the little strap between her cups with my clawed finger. My tongue wets her nipples, chest, stomach, listening to her little adorable whimpers. I feel frenzied as I shove her pants down and bury my face against her cunt. She smells sweet, tastes like ambrosia.

"Oh, good boy," she grips my hair too tightly. I lap are her folds like a dying man, feeling my body pulse and rejoice. She is amazing and all mine, open and pleasured by me. Her body wiggles and grinds against me, forcing me to hold her hips. Her thighs clamped around my face, nearly covering my ears. I'm pleased to hear her cries and feel her tighten around my tongue as I force it inside her. Oh, by the gods, she's divine.

I continue showering my attentions upon her as she tries to push me away," that's enough, Trevor, I need you." my head perks up at her words. She needs me? I sit up, ripping my already torn shirt off my shifted body. I rush to undo my pants, tearing at them enough for my cock to poke through. I look down at her cunt, licking my chops with excitement. I fall over her, hands framing her head. My hips gravitate towards her, needing her more than air. I whimper as I can't bring myself to plunge into her like a savage. Whimper again I meet her eyes, begging her.

She smiles, reaching up and petting my cheek," go ahead, Trevor, I think I understand." overjoyed I lick her mouth, tail wagging freely now.

Now free to do as I need I look between us and nudge my cock against her. My tip spreads her folds but delving into her awaiting heat is hard. I can't think, instincts taking all my control. I whimper again, looking at her. She smiles sweetly, reaching down and guiding me. I wait eagerly for her to lead me, feeling her place me at her entrance. I shove forward, engulfed easily. I whine and growl as I push as far as I can go. I try to nudge further but my base is already swollen. I chuff.

With my new addiction wrapped around my cock I withdraw before plunging into her divine heat with a heavy breath. This is what I've needed, what I've craved. I can't stop myself from bucking into her hard and fast, demanding everything with each thrust. My ears ring as I'm taken to a world of pure bliss.

Samantha writhes and whimpers with me, grabbing at the fur on my chest. I lean closer, pressing my body to hers. My thrusts begin to shorten till I'm rutting into her with shallow humps. Short uncontrolled bucks that leave my knot knocking at her entrance. An overwhelming need overtakes me. I bump my knot harder and harder against her, demanding entrance with every nudge. With a hard push, she opens more for me. I grunt as I force it, locking her to me with a satisfied sigh.

We both wriggle against each other till I'm left whining against her shoulder, with a well-timed clench on her part I'm bursting inside her. I bite down on her shoulder, marking her as my cum paints her insides. Her walls flutter around me. I listen to her melodious cries as I cum. It's too perfect, too beautiful.

With my cock locked inside her I can't help but wag my tail and lick at her face. She giggles, allowing me to shower her in affection as she rests on the floor. I pamper her, licking at her sweat and cleaning every part I can reach. She is mine now, my wonderful mate.

As my knot begins to deflate I feel the week catch up with me. I collapse on her, my cock softening and falling out. She grunts as my weight is on her. My eyes begin to flutter, my body coming back to its original state. I drift off to sleep without a care in the world.

I awaken in an unfamiliar bed with unfamiliar clothes. Without much thought I sniff out my mate, wanting to roll into her comforting arms. A disgusting chemical smell greets me instead of her warm scent. I jump awake, scared, and worried immediately.

"Whoa, cool it, Spot," someone catches my attention. I snap my eyes to them, seeing a skinny man in normal military attire. The brown shirt and camo pants.

"Where is Sam," I growl, disoriented as adrenaline fills my veins.

"The girl? Probably talking with the XO," he shrugs," should be back here soon." the man looks to his computer on his medical trolley. Feeling he is distracted I jump from the bed and bolt to the door. I can hear him shout but I'm too busy taking in the scents around me. I look left, nothing. I look right, I smell her.

Charging down the halls I turn this way and that as I follow her trail. I feel stressed and angry, to an unbelievable degree. I need her in my sight, in my arms. Her scent leads me to a door, the words on the sign not registering in my mind. I slam it open, spotting her immediately.

"Oh, hey," she smiles as she turns in her chair. She has more to say but I interrupt her. Plucking her from her seat I slam her against my body and bury my face to her neck. I take in her scent, assess her health and the environment. The smell of another makes me stiffen but her fingers scratching behind my ear makes me purr. I can feel my tail wagging behind me.

"Tamed the dog, how cute," someone says. I snap my head to them, nearly growling at my XO. He sits at his desk smug, but still intimidatingly powerful. Though I hold back a sound I can't help but bear my teeth to him.

"Let's not antagonize the pup, alright," Sam jokes. She guides me over to the seats, parting to take her own. Looking from her to the XO I feel the urges again, a primal need to get her out of sight of this male. I shake my head to put myself back into a normal mindset. Reluctantly I sit down.

"Now the excitement is over, Cadet Trevor Galius. You are relieved of training till further notice along with Cadet Samantha Backster," he says calmly. I stiffen at the dismissal, looking at Sam in clear worry. Will she be mad? This is exactly what I wanted to avoid, taking her choice away. Sam glances at me with a disarming smile. I remain wary.

"For how long," I ask.

"Till next January, that's when winter training starts. For now, I encourage you two to settle all that needs to be settled before then," he glares over to me," I'd hate to have a repeat of this semester." I wince, looking down at my lap.

"Will this put a delay on werewolves being allowed in the armed forces," I peak up at my XO. He smiles to himself, dropping it quickly.

"I admire your dedication to this cause but no, there be no delay for werewolves. I hope you don't mind too much not being the first one," he answers. Most of my worries melt off at his words. The only person I'm potentially holding back is Sam, no one else has to suffer for my lack of control.

"That won't be a problem, sir," I answer.

With no final notes, we are dismissed. I walk with Sam out into the hall, fidgeting all the while. We walk out of the main building in silence. Should I say something? Is she mad? I pass glances at her, looking for any signs of distress. She gives nothing away.

"Just ask, I know it's killing you," she bites her lip to stop her grin. I fall apart, reaching out and pulling her against me. I can't take not touching her.

"Please don't be mad at me. I didn't want to force you out of training like this but trying to hold back was killing me. I'm so sorry," I whimper into her hair. She awkwardly pats at my back as I apologize.

"I'm not mad," she answers," far from it. I'm rather excited about all this. Like, it's not every day something like this happens."

I recoil from her, confused," you're not mad?"

She shakes her head," no, I actually had some guesses around our second conversation."

I look at her bemused," you did?"

"Yea, I knew about the werewolf mate thing from my cousin. I went to her wedding about two years ago and she was mated to one of your kind. She wouldn't shut up about how they met and the utter romantic garbage she experienced from him," she scoffs," it was almost sickening how sweet they were but I got to learn some signs. You have been tense and full of energy lately. I figured that was normal but you perked up a lot when I showed up. It was really cute. Still, I had some guesses and when you came to the shed it was heavily validated. So in the end, I'm not mad. Lowkey a little happy you didn't do some over the top romantic gestures like my cousin's man did."

I listen to her rant amused and amazed. She knew? A part of me thinks she just had some hopeful thoughts and wanted the signs to be for her. Or maybe I'm not as good as I think at hiding this. Either way, it doesn't matter because she doesn't hate me. She wants me and I can't do anything but be thrilled.

With a snort, I pull her into a kiss, ecstatic with the turn of events. She smiles against my lips, pulling me close. As we kiss a few people walk back, whistling and making sly comments at us. We part, chuckling with one another at their jokes.

"So you aren't mad you have to join back next year," I ask just to be sure.

"Maybe a little," she shrugs," I guess your just going to have to make me forgive you."

I growl, leaning down and nipping at her neck. Her shriek of laughter makes me giddy. I have my mate, and she's perfect.

#12 tropes for christmas #12 days of christmas #Enigma-IM #exophilia #monster boyfriend #werewolf boyfriend #heat

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