#I’d have to give him back to baker street after a day or else the place would dunno collapse on itself

[voilaammayi]

John Hamish Watson at any given moment:

[calaisreno]

His Move

1557 Words / Prompt: Manipulate

He shouldn’t have been surprised. Mary was an assassin, the business of her past never quite behind her. She’d run away once, and Sherlock had insisted they go after her. At that point, John was willing to let her go. They were never going to have the future he’d imagined when he bought her that ring. 

She was already dying when he arrived at the aquarium, and said the things you would expect a loving wife to say. You were my whole world. 

He felt a dull sense of relief, and hated himself for it. The problems of your future are my privilege. 

A future, cut short. And still, her problems would haunt him.

When Sherlock reached out his hand towards John, his eyes wide, John saw the horror-stricken expression on his face.. 

You were my whole world, he thought. 

Her body was lifted, put on a stretcher, and carried out. John followed.

Sherlock texts him: I’m so sorry. SH

John doesn’t reply.

Please talk to me, John. SH

He feeds Rosie, gives her a bath, puts her to bed. She fusses; she’s old enough to sense something is wrong. Now she has only her father to keep her world stable.

John, please. SH

He plans the funeral; there’s no one else. Mary has no family, only a few friends. It’s his responsibility. This keeps him busy, gives him space to work out what comes next.

Sherlock is actually sorry. This John doesn’t doubt. He’s not a sociopath, regardless of what he says.

John’s words at the aquarium were spoken in anger; he doesn’t blame Sherlock for Mary’s death. John is the one who brought her into their orbit. He can’t change that, but sometimes he thinks about what would have happened if Sherlock had returned six months sooner. Of course he would have been angry, and would have expressed how he felt about watching his best friend die, being abandoned for two years. Six months earlier, maybe he wouldn’t have paid attention to the new nurse, the one who kept flirting with him. 

He has no doubt that he would have come back to Baker Street if Sherlock wanted him. The compromise, as always, would have been on John’s part. Sherlock is never going to change. He will always treat John as a convenience, a habit that doesn’t require thought. 

Sherlock is rarely solicitous, never bestows compliments, only flatters someone if he’s being manipulative. The speech he gave at the wedding nearly knocked John over. Maybe Sherlock was only trying to do what was expected of him, but it was unexpectedly touching. 

Sitting there, hearing the two people who love you most, he’d had this thought: I would have waited for you, if I’d known. 

In his own way, Sherlock does love John. He also knows how to manipulate John, to get him to do what he wants. To keep John in the dark when he doesn’t trust him. 

Loving Sherlock has always meant giving something up. It means following him into danger. John isn’t sure he can afford that any longer, not with a child to care for. 

He has to be sure.

It doesn’t surprise John to see Sherlock at the funeral. Mrs Hudson sits with him, and Lestrade joins them. Molly slides into the pew, whispers something to Greg. It’s a protective entourage; they all know what John said.

Harry is home, watching Rosie. John sits alone, in the front row. 

Sherlock has texted him daily, and John hasn’t replied. That’s why Sherlock is here. He wants John to accept his apology, for everything to be as it was before he ruined it all by dying. Not that Sherlock understands it this way; he doesn’t think that dying ruined things. He’s convinced that he had to do it, that John would have died if he hadn’t. In his mind, there was no alternative. 

Maybe he’s right, but for two years, John carried the weight of grief. That’s just feelings, sentiment; Sherlock wan’t dead; he was saving John, saving the world, winning the game. He left John behind, let him grieve, because that was the only way to solve what happened at Barts that day. 

Sherlock will still leave John behind at crime scenes, run heedlessly into danger, and probably get wounded at some point. He will question John’s intelligence, talk to John when he’s miles away, text him impatiently while he’s treating patients. He will dismiss John’s concerns as frivolous, insist that sentiment makes him weak. He will break John’s heart again and again. That’s just the reality.

And John could break his heart, too. He has a temper, and letting go of anger is hard. Will that anger still be simmering in a year, two years? It’s hard for him to forgive; even in death, he hasn’t really forgiven Mary. 

Can he say he forgives Sherlock and really mean it?  

John prayed for a miracle, and hit the ghost when he returned. Sherlock didn’t hit back; he made a joke. He missed the point. 

But he pulled John out of a bonfire. His look of panic is something John won’t ever forget.  

He tricked John into forgiving him—but has also tried to be worthy of that forgiveness. 

He has expressed his love for John in front of a hundred people. 

These are not the acts of a heartless man.

Sherlock needs him. Maybe two years away was as hard for him as it was for John. 

Does John need him?

He imagines a life without Sherlock. He weighs it against a life without Mary. One is possible, one is past.

His wife was a master manipulator. He’s only beginning to realise the extent of that. He’d had doubts, but couldn’t put words to them until he was in Leinster Gardens, hearing her admit that she’d shot Sherlock, that she would do anything to keep John in the dark about who she really was. 

The woman he fell in love with saved him from despair.

The woman he’d married was a facade. 

He never forgave the woman who shot Sherlock. 

The woman he went back to gave him his daughter. 

So. Mary’s gone, and what he feels about that is a confusing mixture of guilt and sorrow—and relief. At some point, he loved her. Or the idea of her. He chose her. 

She made choices as well. She chose death, rather than allowing Sherlock to take that bullet. When John came back to her, she understood that he would never completely forgive her, that he was doing it for Rosie. She’d chosen to save Sherlock, to die rather than live with John’s grief over losing him a second time.

Sherlock didn’t kill her. She chose to die.

But when he stood at her grave, he didn’t ask her not to be dead.

What he wishes now is that they’d never met, that he could rewind time and make a different choice. That she was still alive, a stranger living somewhere else. 

But then he wouldn’t have Rosie. He loves his daughter completely, protectively, without rhyme or reason. He wants the best life for her, the carefree childhood he never had. And he imagines her growing up without a mother—with a father who has chosen to be alone. 

He pictures her, a child with pigtails and a stubborn streak. A teenager able to go toe-to-toe with her father and still see reason, take a small step back when she’s wrong. A young woman with curly blond hair and a teasing smile. She leaves for uni, and he’s alone again. He grows old, and remembers.

Does he need Sherlock? 

Absolutely, desperately. Like air. 

Can he trust Sherlock? 

Probably not. And he won’t change him.

He misses Sherlock. Whatever they have been to one another, his heart wants him. 

Is it worth the risk?

He’s standing in the church reception hall, drinking a cup of terrible coffee. Sherlock is across the room, looking at him. His expression is sorrowful, not the fake sorrow he can put on during a case, pretending he cares. His hands are stuffed in his coat pockets and he’s slouching against the wall, watching John.

Coworkers from the surgery express their condolences. Mrs Hudson hugs him tearfully. Lestrade tells him they need to get together over a pint. He accepts their sympathy, makes small talk because that’s what people do. All the while, he feels Sherlock’s eyes like a magnet, pulling on him. 

As the hall begins to empty out, he can resist the pull no longer. Sherlock looks up, surprised, as John walks towards him. His pale eyes fill with tears. 

John has given up so much already. He doesn’t blame anyone but himself. Maybe he’ll never fully trust Sherlock, but he’s already forgiven him. 

Setting aside all his objections, laying down his anger and his regret, he surrenders.

When he pulls Sherlock into the hug he’s always wanted, this time Sherlock hugs back. John makes deductions. He can smell a cigarette, maybe two (nervous). He feels his ribs, still too prominent (unhappy). He’s trembling with the emotion he hates (love). The world may have lost a fine actor when Sherlock Holmes became a consulting detective, but this is not acting.

“Please come home,” Sherlock whispers.

John smiles into his shoulder, his own tears beginning. “Oh God, yes.”

[nifolution]

It Happens

Pairing: Dennis Baker / Reader

Summary: Dennis has never had much luck in his worthless life. Sleepwalking through his miserable days and lonely nights… until he met her.

Warnings: smut, misunderstandings, dating, dumb choices, fluff, angst, talks of divorce and cheating, bitchy ex-wife, Dennis being Dennis

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is still written in 3rd person. 18+ only due to smut. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Main Masterlist

Staring morosely into the mirror, the brunette straightened his glasses. Hair combed, beard trimmed, clean polo and khakis, he looked ready for work, even though he lost his job six months ago. Same time his wife left him for another man and sent him the divorce papers. At least it meant it was quiet, Gina wasn't yelling at him constantly. Reminding him what a pathetic failure he was and how repulsive she found him. 

His eyes flickered down to his left hand, debating if he should take the ring off. It’s not like she was coming back. He reached for it but hesitated once his fingertips met gold. He couldn't do it… He should do it… He shouldn’t... He needed to. Well, if nothing else, he was good at giving up. The man slipped the band off his finger and sighed. Resolved to live the rest of his miserable life alone. Rock bottom, meet Dennis.

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

Bypassing his former place of employment, Dennis headed straight to 'Back to The Grind' coffee kiosk. Standing awkwardly to the side of the queue, avoiding eye contact with the other customers, he awaited the arrival of his coffee buddy, Y/N. For the past two years, Monday through Friday, they would meet here in the pursuit of caffeine and conversation. Sometimes she had to run, but mostly they’d sit and chat until their cups were empty. Dennis enjoyed her company so much he kept showing up day after day, long after he no longer worked around there. It was all he had, all he lived for anymore. Just those few precious minutes of human connection.

Dennis checked his watch, 7:37 a.m., she was running late. Joining the line, he ordered for both of them, then sat at one of the nearby benches to wait. Ten more minutes went by with no sign of Y/N. You're a loser Dennis, she's not coming. With a defeated exhale, he stared at the sidewalk and took a large angry bite of his donut.

“Hey coffee buddy.”

Shit, she was here. Dennis looked up at her beautiful face, his eyes as big as saucers. Swallowing the large bite, he coughed out a greeting.

Y/N smiled at him. “I see you started without me.” She gestured to the corner of his mouth, “You have a little…” 

Dennis wiped his face on his arm. “Thanks.” He handed her a cup and a wrapped pastry. “I got your usual, medium caramel iced coffee. They were out of croissants though, so I ordered you a blueberry danish.” 

“Oh no,” she frowned, “blueberries and I do not agree.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I messed up your breakfast. I should have asked, I’m so stupid.” Dennis became visibly upset and continued to over apologize. Promising to get her something else and refusing to finish his donut. 

“It's ok, D, really. It’s not a big deal.”

He buried his face in his hands, “I suck, I'm sorry.” 

“Well I think you're pretty great, Dennis.” She smiled at him again, even though he couldn’t see it. “Hey, seeing as neither of us are having breakfast, how about an early lunch? Are you free?”

Dennis’ head whipped up, “For lunch? You want to have lunch with me?”

“Yeah.” Y/N checked the time on her phone, “Shit! I got to go, but can you meet me here at eleven? We can walk up the street to Charley’s, their food is awesome. Real burgers, not the microwave crap I know you favor.” 

Dennis nodded, “I’d love to.” Saying their goodbyes, he watched Y/N rush off to work. He knew she must see him as a charity case. Who wouldn’t. He was broken and worthless and felt bad for wasting her time everyday. It was selfish of him. Still, he could feel butterflies flapping in his belly, knowing he’d get to spend more time with her. Having nothing else to do, he sat in his car and waited.

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

Y/N slid into the booth, staring eagerly at the man across from her. Eyes tracking his hands as he picked up his food and took a bite. Smirking as his eyes practically rolled into his head, “Good huh?”

“So good,” he groaned out before continuing to chomp on his burger. 

Chuckling, she began eating her own meal. “So how have you been, D? What ya been up to?”

Dennis shrugged, not wanting the conversation focused on him. “Not much… not anything really.” Making the mistake of looking at her expectant face, he found himself blurting out the things he tried to hide from her. “It’s true though, I wasted my entire life. Nothing to show for my 37 pointless years of existence. No job, no kids, no wife. I’m a big fat nothing.” He closed his eyes, waiting for the blowback of his confession. Startled when a soft hand enclosed his, giving a gentle squeeze. 

“I'm sorry. I had no idea.”

She sounded so sincere, Dennis couldn’t process it. “It’s okay. It’s, uh, been a few months now.” 

Y/N regretted bringing it up, but couldn’t help how her interest peaked. Her coffee buddy had never talked about himself this much. She wanted him to open up more. “How long were you guys married?” 

Taking a deep breath, he spilled his soul. If she wasn’t laughing before, she would now. “Sixteen very long years… haven’t had sex in the last seven. Not that we did it often before that.”

Her eyebrows shot up, “Wait, you and your wife haven’t had sex in seven years.”

“Well… I haven't,” he let the rest of his words die on his tongue.

“Ohhhhhhh,” Y/N cringed, “Sorry I brought it up.”

“That's alright. It wasn’t much of a marriage. I think she was faithful for maybe the first three years. That or I was too in love to notice. After our 10th anniversary she didn’t even bother hiding it. Spent our special day in someone else’s bed and facetimed me.”

“What a bitch. You didn't deserve to be treated like that, Dennis.” She rubbed his hand before going back to eating. After a few minutes, a thought occurred to her. “I know it’s not my place, but I think you should take this as an opportunity to start over. Find a new job, new girlfriend. I could help you, if you want.”

Even the thought of trying depressed him. “I don’t think anyone out there will hire me, or date me for that matter.”

Y/N tilted her head, “Love the enthusiasm.” She took a sip of her water before continuing, “I think you’re a catch, D. You just need some practice. You’ll get your life back on track in no time.” Dennis could only offer half a smile. “Okay, first up, a place to work. I know your old job was in sales, but you never told me what you sold.”

His voice lowered as he admitted it was the sale and rental of porta potties. He worked there for 15 years and hated every moment of it. 

“So something not involving toilets, then. There are lots of different types of sales jobs.”

Dennis shook his head, “Nobody wants to buy anything from me, not even shitters.”

She nodded, “No sales, got it. Umm, my department is hiring, logistics for big rigs.” 

“Maybe. I’d hate to invade your space though.” With a weary sigh, Dennis finished the last bite of his delicious burger. 

“Hmm,” she pondered over any positions that would suit him. “Oh hey, I know of an opening at a warehouse? Does something like that interest you?” 

“Maybe.”

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

No one was more surprised than Dennis when he landed the warehouse gig. He took to it like a duck to water. His strength and organization skills put to good use. Memorizing where everything went on his first day. His coworkers were friendly and his manager was fair. He actually looked forward to going into work. But mostly, he loved continuing to have his daily coffee with Y/N.  

They were hanging out more often now, not just for coffee or lunch. Calling and texting at all hours, seeing each other after work and on the weekends. He talked to her about everything, and she to him, even gave him tips for reentering the dating pool. He wasn’t sad or lonely with her around. He forgot what that felt like. 

Dennis was familiar with the term touch starved, and oh, how it fit him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone touched him on purpose. His wife hadn't let him near her in years, recoiled at his every attempt to show affection. But Y/N touched him willingly, openly, without reservations. He was undeserving of it, he knew, but he craved it so. Every hug, every handhold, every fistbump, he wanted it all from her. 

Dennis was currently pacing through his kitchen. Y/N was on her way over to celebrate his divorce being finalized. She cheered that he was finally free from Gina’s horrible treatment and was better off without her abusive, cheating ass. He could feel the flop sweat start. Taking a paper towel, he began wiping his face and armpits. Just as he was wondering if he had time to shower, the bell rang.

When he opened the door, he was greeted with Y/N’s charming smile, her arms full with his favorite beer and chips. Helping her set her load on the kitchen island, he watched her grab two bottles, twisting off both tops, handing him one.

“Congrats on the permanent dissolvement of that bitch’s claws from your life.” She clinked her beer with his. Both of them took long pulls of their drink. Y/N looked him up and down, tsking at his stiff attire. “You aren’t really dressed for movie watching. Why don’t you go change into comfy clothes, I’ll set up the movie.” 

A few minutes later, Dennis walked into the living room wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, “I feel naked.”

“Well I think you look great. Although I’m sure you’d look just as good actually naked.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

His whole face turned bright red. It was just a joke, he told himself. She couldn’t possibly be flirting with him. He sat down on the couch next to her. Popping a chip into his mouth before turning his attention to the television. Oh no, she picked a horror movie. Dennis did not do well with scary movies. He was going to make a fool of himself. 

Rubbing his hands on his pants, his leg muscles painfully tight, Dennis did his best to put on a brave face. It lasted all of 20 minutes. The first jump scare had him releasing a blood curdling scream. Completely flushed, his chips thrown everywhere, any shred of dignity he feigned now gone. He was mortified.

Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, her hand over her heart. “You scared the crap out of me,” she roared before breaking into a fit of laughter. “Didn’t know there’d be 4D effects. Way to give me a heart attack.” 

Wordlessly, Dennis fell to his knees and began cleaning up the mess. Waiting for a scolding that never came. He declined her offer to help him. He was just grateful she found the situation amusing. She was so forgiving of him. Once finished, he sat back with his feet perched on the coffee table. 

“You sure you’re okay, D?” Seeing as how he only nodded in affirmation, Y/N decided he needed some comfort. As the movie continued, she cuddled up to his side, her feet leaning on his. Her white socks with black stripes next to his black socks with white dots. She began rubbing her feet on his, “Guess opposites really do attract.”  

Dennis couldn’t take his eyes off the game of footsie. Feeling brave, he put his arm around Y/N’s shoulder. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, her arm resting on his chest, sending his heart rate into overdrive. Dennis was a cuddler, but couldn't recall the last time he was with somebody like this without being shoved away. He felt comfortable, content. The movie was forgotten as her hand slipped inside his shirt, her fingers combing his dark chest hair. Gina always made him wax, it hurt, he hated it. 

Looking down at his coffee buddy, he met her gaze with a fond smile. To his surprise, she leaned up and kissed him. He felt his brain short circuit as Y/N’s soft cherry flavored lips glided with his chapped ones. She slowly pulled away, leaving him with closed eyes and puckered lips. 

“Do you think you’re ready to start dating? We can go someplace fancy, really wine and dine it.”

“Definitely.” Oh yes, Dennis was looking forward to this practice date.

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

Dennis' stomach growled as he loaded his prizes into the freezer. He’d never won anything before, but scored big at the meat raffle with Y/N. His freezer was stuffed with burgers, steaks, pork chops, ribs, lobster tail, and the fridge stocked with his favorite beer. He made changes around the home as well. Threw out the million stupid throw pillows that Gina insisted they needed. Replaced the furniture he disliked, bought a giant beanbag simply because he’d always wanted one. Rearranged the rooms how he preferred, did anything he desired to make his house his. Anything of his ex-wife's left behind got put into a box and thrown in the basement. 

The raffle was his second fake date with Y/N. Dennis was appreciative of her help and that she gave him a second chance. Their first date started out a disaster. He was so nervous he spilled wine all over her dress before their food arrived. She ran to the ladies room as the waiters cleaned the table. Dennis was inconsolable for those few minutes, certain Y/N would never want to see him again. He was shocked when she sat back down like nothing happened, only the deep red stain as a reminder. He thought he was in the clear, until he ended up choking on his dinner. The heimlich wasn’t needed, but the gagging and panicked noises he made trying to dislodge the food had the unwanted attention of the other patrons on them for a second time. It was decided it was best to skip dessert. 

After embarrassing her twice, Dennis was sure that was the end of the practice dates. Y/N didn't want to go home though. They drove to an arcade where they binged on candy and she whooped him at every game they tried. Hopped up on sugar, they ended the night making out in the car like teenagers. Dennis was having fun for the first time in his adult life. Beyond thankful for her assistance and attention, he cherished every word and every kiss, wishing with all his might that it was real. 

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

“Woooo,” the enthusiastic couple practically kicked in the door to her apartment. Hooting and guffawing as they verbally replayed the events of the wrestling match they returned from. Bantering back and forth, “Your guy totally cheated.” “Nuh-uh.” “Mmhm.” “You’re crazy, you’re out of your mind. It was a fair fight.” “Cheater cheater pumpkin eater and I hate to tell ya, you are guilty by association.” 

Cheeks hurting from all the laughter, holding onto each other for balance, Y/N felt the air shift. She began running her hand over his arm and onto his chest. “So D, it’s your first time at your girlfriend's place. What shall we do, hmm?”

Even though Dennis knew she was only pretending when she called herself his girlfriend, he loved hearing her say it. He decided to knock her socks off by grabbing her face and kissing her with a passion that even surprised himself. Y/N responded in kind, opening her mouth, allowing him to explore. She tasted like cherries, ale and heaven. 

Y/N broke the kiss, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into the bedroom. “Ready to wrestle?” She bit her lip seductively and began to strip off her clothes. Dennis was hypnotized watching more and more flesh be revealed to him. He’d fantasized about this so many times, but never imagined it would happen. When she stood before him naked, he gulped, she was gorgeous. He couldn’t get his shirt, socks and pants off fast enough, but then he hesitated, deciding to keep his underwear on. 

She yelped as he lifted her up a little too aggressively. “D, I swear to god if you actually bodyslam me…” 

Dennis froze and gently set her down on her bed. “No! I- I’m sorry. I was trying to be sexy.”

“You're very sexy, Dennis.” She pressed her lips to his and tugged at the waistband of his white briefs, “Join me up here.”

As he climbed on the bed, he asked her to lie down. ”I want to worship you.” When she acquiesced, his heated gaze roamed her body. Fingers danced along her skin, marveling at all the places he wanted to touch, wanted to kiss. Like a siren’s call, her hardened nipples drew him in. Swirling his tongue around her peak, he sucked it into his mouth. Making a wet pop as he released it. Massaging the breast, and checking Y/N’s face to confirm her enjoyment, he continued licking, sucking and fondling her left side.

The heat of Dennis’ mouth made her other breast feel cold and lonely, it wanted attention too. She quietly mentioned to him that the other one was getting jealous. Dennis, embarrassed by his blunder, repeated his actions on the right boob before beginning to kiss down her body. He had to do this right. It had to be good for her. Shit, his hands were too clammy, his body was too sweaty. She was going to push him away, she was going to laugh at him. Dennis began second guessing himself, too afraid of making the wrong move, he rested his head on her stomach. 

After a minute of no movement, Y/N ran her fingers through his hair. “You okay?” Troubled by his silence, she continued trying to sooth him, “Where’s your head at, D?” 

He expected to get scolded. His mind playing through the times with his ex. She would yell at him if he wasn't doing something right, or didn’t get hard fast enough. Telling him he couldn’t make her cum with an instruction manual stapled to his head. Taking a deep shuddering breath, he braved a look at Y/N. “I just… I want to do this right.” 

She smiled so sweetly, “We got all night.”

Encouraged, he picked up where he left off. As he kissed down her leg, he remembered his prior error and copied what he did to the other side. Reaching her core, he closed his eyes, nuzzling her thigh with his cheek before flattening his tongue, giving her entire womanhood a big fat lick. Grinning to himself at her surprised squeak, he turned his head to kiss at her other thigh before licking his lips and burying his face in her cunt.

It was as if he was possessed by someone with far more confidence than he. Dennis became an animal, sucking and licking her folds, eating her from the outside in. His tongue roamed over her, up and down and side to side, making frequent stops to circle her clit. She made the sweetest noises for him, mewling and moaning as she writhed in his hold. She had a firm grip on his hair, gently guiding him where she needed him to be.

Dennis was open to instruction, so he let her move him as she pleased. The taste of her sweet honey working him up so much he rutted against the bed. His hands trailed up her torso to cup her breasts, before one slid back down to play with her soaked entrance. He inserted a finger, realizing she was more than ready, he added another. Pumping his fingers in tantum with his licks, he could feel her tremble.

“Oh fuck, oh god,” Y/N cried out as she climaxed around his skillful digits. 

Drunk off the greatest praise, her orgasm, Dennis looked up from between her legs, a dopey grin plastered on his face. He eagerly asked if he could do it again.

Y/N looked down at him through hooded eyes, “Ya, go for it.”

It wasn’t long until her legs were shaking again, Dennis held her hips down, not stopping until she spasmed and screamed in ecstasy. He was proud of himself. “Holy shit, that worked.” Out of breath, heart pounding, she told him that was incredible, especially whatever he did at the end. Blushing ear to ear, Dennis admitted that he spelled his name with his tongue. Chuckling, he asks her to guess what he spelled next. Diving back down he traced his message.

“Umm, peace out? 

He shook his head, “It was thank you.” 

“I should be the one thanking you.” She wiggled out of his grasp and took a condom out of her nightstand. “But, hey, the night’s not over yet.” She handed the packet to a terrified Dennis. He looked like he was going to pass out, and wouldn't meet her eyes. “Do you not want to?” She’d be lying to say her feelings wouldn’t be hurt if he said no.

Head down, rubbing the back of his neck, Dennis mumbled his secret, “I have a bad penis.” 

“A bad… um, does that mean ED or like performance anxiety?” Y/N had to know if this was something they could work around.

“I'm.. I’m not sure. It just doesn't work like it’s supposed to.” 

“Do you have any problems on your own?'' He shook his head no. Y/N caressed her boyfriend’s nervous face. “Maybe there isn’t a problem.” She waited until he looked at her. “No pressure here, but I'd like to try if you do. If it goes wrong, we can just try again.” 

Why was she so patient with him? He didn’t deserve her friendship. He didn’t deserve her at all. Dennis took his briefs off, kneeling on the bed, bare to her and awaiting judgment.

“Damn Dennis. Wow, that, I mean, it looks like a good dick to me.” She watched him with unbridled desire, wrapping her hand around his length, ducking down to lick the swollen head. “Thick and veiny and standing proud. I don't know if my mouth or my pussy want it more.” 

Her compliments spurred him on. Dennis removed her hand, pushing her back on the bed. Crawling over her, he stroked himself twice before rolling the condom on. He was terrified of disappointing her and it must have shown on his face because she pulled him down for a reassuring kiss, “Don’t overthink it, just be here with me. I want you to fuck me, Dennis.”

He lined himself up and kissed her once more before slowly entering her. Already breathing heavy, he barely had control of himself when he bottomed out. “I can’t believe I’m inside you.” Y/N giggled and told him how good he felt, begging him to move. Closing his eyes in concentration, Dennis pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in with a groan. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.” 

Dennis snapped his hips as she rolled hers to meet each thrust. It didn’t take long to find a rhythm that suited them. Sweat dripped down their bodies as they chased their carnal highs. The sounds of skin on skin and their moans filled the room. The tension in her stomach unbearable, Y/N opened her legs wider, angling them up so he could go deeper. His cock hitting all the right spots. It was all it took for her to cum a third time.

Feeling her walls fluttering and gripping him hard as she came, had Dennis at his end. When he told her he was close, she asked him to come on her tits. Hissing as he pulled out, Dennis straddled Y/N’s chest, pulling off the condom just before he released. He made sure every drop landed on her breasts before collapsing next to her.

After a few minutes of catching their breaths, Y/N giggled, “I got some d from D.” Finding her joke hilarious, she continued laughing.

“Was it good?”

“It was great.” She kissed him, “See, there’s nothing wrong with you.” She pecked his lips again, “Promise.” Holding her chest as she rose to keep his cum from running down her, she walked to the bathroom to clean up. 

Dennis stretched and hummed, allowing himself to be happy at a job well done. He could satisfy a woman after all. When she returned, Dennis was almost redressed. 

“You can stay, if you want to.”

“Stay?” He desperately wanted to, but couldn't believe she wanted him to.

Y/N walked over, carefully taking his glasses off his face and setting them on her nightstand, “Please.”

Dennis removed the clothing he put on and followed her into bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he shared a bed with someone, Gina banished him to the guestroom five years ago. Look at him now, a beautiful woman in his arms that actually wanted him to be there. Him and Y/N shared a few more kisses as they cuddled and talked. Determining his issue was due to stress and his marital problems. He could have confidence going forward. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off Y/N as she slept. His best friend, his only friend, his lover. Dennis didn't know it could be like this, he wished so badly that it was real. What a beautiful life they would have together. They'd be happy, she made him happy. He didn't think it was possible to feel good anymore, but here he was practically jumping for joy. There was no doubt in his mind that he was in love with her. He'd go down on her every night, expecting nothing in return, if it meant he could stay with her forever. If only it were possible. Instead he would take these pretend moments and commit them to his memory forever. A shining light in his bleak life.

Morning arrived too fast. Dennis yawned, wrenching his eyes and started to get out of bed. “I can make us breakfast.”

Y/N grabbed his arm, pulling him back to her. “Orrrrr, how about I order some eggs benny and we can spend longer in bed.”

“You’re brilliant.”

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

“What does a fish say when it runs into a brick wall?”

 “I don’t know, what?”

Dennis slapped his hand on the table, “Dam!”  He threw his head back, braying and wheezing.

Y/N snorted at the bad joke, smiling at how his face lit up with the punchline. Their fish frys were huge, so her boyfriend had been making awful puns and one-liners all night. She threw her lemon at him, which he promptly caught and ate without breaking his cocky grin. He was turning into quite the cheeky bastard. 

The shrill of his phone interrupted the merriment. His ex-wife’s name flashing on the screen. Rolling his eyes, Dennis declined the call, only for her to call back. He ignored her again to no avail, his phone continued going off. She clearly wasn't getting the hint. Huffing, he answered. 

All Y/N could hear was non stop shouting, poor Dennis not even getting a word in. He grew paler, biting the inside of his cheek. She was about to take the phone from him and tell that horrible woman off, when he quickly said goodbye and hung up. He made a face she had never seen on him before. 

“Gina wants her stuff from the house. Says she’ll be by tomorrow and demands I have her things in clearly labeled boxes just inside the door. She doesn't want to step foot into my house again.”

She smirked at Dennis, looking very much like the cat that ate the canary. “I think a better plan would be to show that cheating whore what she's missing.” 

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

Dennis couldn’t stop giggling thinking of the plan. He looked over at his coffee buddy, her short pink sundress making her look like a yummy treat. His fingers began twitching; he so badly wanted to unwrap and devour her. He walked up behind her, winding his arms around her middle. Whispering in her ear, “I’m dying to taste your juicy cunt.”

Her knees wobbled at his dirty words, whimpering as she felt herself getting wet. Y/N glanced at the time, it was too early, he wasn’t playing fair. He began nibbling on her ear while groping her chest, making her clench around nothing, she felt so empty. Well… it wasn’t terribly early. No harm in pregaming. She allowed Dennis to reach under her dress and slide her panties down her legs. 

“Wait,” she reached down to grab the piece of fabric, throwing it to the floor on the other side of the kitchen island near the box labeled ‘the bitches crap.’

Dennis didn’t have time to ponder why she did that because his pants were currently being undone by nimble fingers. His eyes followed her beautiful face as she fell to her knees in front of him. He gripped the counter behind him as she removed his semi hard cock from his pants, her other hand cupping his balls, giving him a smile too innocent for what her naughty hands were up too. 

Leaning forward, Y/N licked at his testicles, gently rolling each in her mouth. She dragged her tongue along the underside of his length, satisfied hearing him gasp and his body jerk. Her ravenous gaze never faltered as she watched him watching her with lust blown eyes. Placing a kiss on his tip, Y/N sucked him fully into her mouth. She swallowed him a few times before allowing his dick out to glide along her cheek. Her tongue gave it a kitten lick and another kiss.

“Fuck,” Dennis gave a needy moan, “please, Y/N.”

Gripping his thighs, her mouth reclaimed his cock, taking him as deeply as she could. Her own arousal drenching her as she continued blowing him. Sparing a peak at the clock, she leaned back, causing Dennis to practically sob. 

He wasn’t disappointed for long as she turned around and pulled up her dress. Putting on the condom he had in his pocket, he grabbed the back of Y/N’s neck, bent her over the kitchen island and buried himself to the hilt. The lewd squelch of his cock dragging in and out of her dripping heat drove him into a frenzy. Both began moaning louder as he continued to fuck her. It was almost time.

Gina let herself in, not bothering to knock or ring the bell. Seeing no boxes, she marched into the home yelling, “God damn it, Dennis. I told you to have the boxes ready by the door. Why can’t you do anything right? You are hopeless. You…” She paused at the kitchen entryway, mouth hung open. Blinking a few times in shock. Her ex-husband was screwing some chic from behind, how disgusting. “What the fuck is the meaning of this, Dennis? How dare you, in our fucking kitchen?”

Dennis looked up when his ex started screaming, seeing the offended look on her face, he had to stifle a laugh. “Shut the fuck up, get your shit and get out. My girlfriend and I are busy.” Turning his attention back to the woman under him, he vigorously pounded into her.

Gina couldn’t believe her ears, he had never spoken to her like that. And he certainly never made her make those noises. Avoiding the tossed panties, she grabbed the single box on the floor and hurried out of there, slamming the door behind her. 

The sound of his ex shrieking all the way to her car had the couple in stitches. Dennis couldn’t believe it worked. Y/N was a genius. Pulling out, he turned her body to him, kissing her forehead, nose and lips. “Want to fuck in another room?”

“Ha! Yes, in every room. Give my pussy the tour.”

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

A week later, Y/N waited at the coffee kiosk, order in hand. Dennis was late, he had never been late before. To make matters worse, he hasn't responded to her messages for the last two days. She was concerned, but didn’t want to be ‘that’ girlfriend. She didn’t want to smother him if he needed space.

It was almost 8 a.m. when he showed up, giving Y/N a big hug and kissing her cheek. “I’m sorry I’m late and that I haven’t been responsive. Been really busy. I hope you’re not mad.” He took his coffee and donut from her.

“I forgive you, but I have to tell you, D, I was really worried. I thought you were sick, or maybe hurt, or that I must have done something wrong.” 

Dennis’ eyes twinkled in amusement, “Oh no, everythings great thanks to you.” He gave Y/N another bone crushing hug, careful not to spill their coffees. “It worked.”

Her eyebrows drew together, “What worked.”

“Gina came over Saturday morning, begging for another chance, promising to be better. We made love all weekend. I got to show her all the new moves you taught me. She's moving back in as we speak. I’m getting my life back thanks to you. I can't thank you enough for your help.” His excited eyes met Y/N’s as they turned from confused to cold. She threw her drink in his face, called him an asshole and stormed off. 

Dennis was stunned, wiping the iced coffee from his face, he ran to catch up to her. “Y/N, what's wrong? Why did you do that? Hey!” 

She turned on her heel and sneered at him. “What did you expect, a high five for telling me you fucked your ex-wife and are back together with her.” 

Confusion danced across his face, “I don't understand, the plan worked. Gina was so jealous she came crawling back to me…”

“THE PLAN?!” Y/N shouted. “The plan was to show that bitch how you were living your best life without her. Expertly banging YOUR girlfriend,” she patted her chest, “so she regrets the way she treated you. NOT to get her back. NOT to throw me to the side for someone that was so cruel to you your whole life.” 

Dennis was flabbergasted, “Wait, you were my girlfriend? MY girlfriend? Like my real girlfriend, my real actual girlfriend?” He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why would someone as amazing as her want to be with him? He never would have given his ex a second thought if he knew he had her.

Y/N shook her head, “Not anymore.”

He couldn’t breathe, “N-n-no, wait…” 

“Goodbye, Dennis. Hope you have a wonderful life with that tramp.”

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

Dennis walked into his house, spotting Gina’s blonde hair at the fridge. She was throwing out his meat, and beer. She didn’t eat that stuff and wouldn’t allow him to. He was preparing himself to say something when a dark haired man bumped into him. The guy apologized and continued on his way, bringing boxes up the stairs. “Who was that?”

Gina spoke without bothering to face him, “That’s just Vinny, he’ll be staying with us for a few days. The poor dear got evicted. Don't worry, he knows we're working on our marriage. He won't be a problem, I promise.”

Oh lovely, the man Gina left him for will be living with them. “Okay,” he agreed defeatedly, walking into the living room. Dennis knew she’d be cheating on him again before sundown, in his house this time, and he will pretend he doesn't know. He’ll pretend everything is fine. 

Seems rock bottom had a basement. Dennis was in hell, he was sure of it. He lost the woman he loved, the only person that ever thought he was worth anything. He couldn't break further, there was nothing left. Dennis sighed and collapsed face down on the floor. Lying there in his own misery, daydreaming of what could have been.

The End

A/N: Oh Dennis…

A/N: Thank you to everyone that has read. I appreciate you all. I’d love to know your thoughts.

Sequel: It Could Have Been Love (coming soon)

[buckybarnesdiaries]

secrets

© credits to the author, i found it on pinterest. if you are the author, please send me a message to add your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

request made by @homesicam: hi maria!! can I have prompt 15, feels mysterious and all and god bless bucky's soul (ofc) !! and thank you so much for your work !! ❤️

prompt: “Will be our secret”.

word count: 1.165 words.

warnings/tags: none. bucky feeling like a lost puppy trying to fit in.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

Like every time you came back from a mission, where you needed a little calm, you waited for the small hours to hit the clock. Walking out from your dorm, you led your feet through the hallways to downstairs. Crossing the huge large living room, you stepped to the back garden of the compound. As soon as you took off your house slippers, you continued along the grass, feeling the strands of grass beneath your toes tickling you. The sky was covered by shining stars all around and for a split second your mind went blank. There wasn’t any horror, any danger, any pain. The wounds and the scratches in your face and arms went to the background, as you closed your eyes to breathe the soft breeze fluttering your hair. You felt free.

Taking a seat on the grass, you put your knees against your chest and wrapped them with both arms. Sometimes you used to think about what made you so special to be part of the Avengers. You weren’t like Natasha, a professional spy. You weren’t like Tony, a genius. And of course, you weren’t a god, nor a witch, nor a supersoldier. Not even just a soldier like Sam. Of course, they were more than those skills. You were just an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. that survived its destruction and falling. It was inevitable to feel small when you joined them in their missions. Even so, it was better if any of them heard you talk about yourself like that, or they’d end up kicking your ass to be too humble and unfair with yourself and how much you train and work hard every single day. With no excuses.

“A broken heart is all that’s left, I’m still fixing all the cracks. Lost a couple of pieces when I carried it, carried it, carried it home…” Like a defense mechanism against your own hurtful thoughts, you started to sing with your eyes put on a starry night above your head.

A few days ago, you discovered that song and got really obsessed for some reason you didn’t know. It was like picking at the scab, thinking about your parents, about how much you missed them, about what they could be thinking about you. Would they feel proud? Would they feel scared?

“I’m afraid of all I am. My mind feels like a foreign land, silence ringing inside my head. Please, carry me… carry me… carry me home”.

“You sound like my mother”.

Those words raced your heart, more because of the surprise of someone else being there than for the confession. You couldn’t help but jump up from the floor, shaking the strands of grass from your clothes. Bucky was in front of you, a couple of steps away. He had his head slightly tilted to the right, squinting with some kind of confusion running through his mind. You crossed your arms on your chest a little ashamed, rubbing your nose with a side of your hand as you tried to hold back a tear.

Then, you dawn on and your brain reproduced his words again. For you, it meant a shock. You could count with the fingers of both hands the times you had shared a couple of words, maybe a small talk in a meeting before a mission. And you were sure it was the first time you two were alone. Bucky was pretty quiet, even shy you’d dare to say. After all the shit he lived in for many years, the fear of coming back to those dark days was still chasing him. Steve told you that he used to try and speak to anyone, to be normal, to be trusted. But after what he was forced to do, no one really trusted in him. And it wasn’t like you didn’t care about his past, because you’d be lying to yourself, but you were of those kinds of persons who thought that everybody deserves a second chance. If you didn’t give them anything to believe in, how would they be believers?

“Did she…?” You intoned slowly driven by curiosity, now that Bucky seemed interested in starting a conversation either way. But you didn’t want to sound disrespectful.

“She used to sing for my sister and me”. You watched him keep his hands inside the pockets of his sweatpants, coming closer to you as he noticed you weren’t afraid of him.

“My mom did it too”. You replied then, showing him a fleeting smile curving up your lips.

As soon as Bucky witnessed the sweet gesture from you and the way you were continuing the conversation, he felt relaxed. He felt welcomed from the first time he stepped into the compound. You waved a hand towards him, urging him to sit down as you went back to your seat on the grass. He joined you without hesitation, cheered up inside for making a new friend.

You lost track of time talking about everything and anything at the same time. Talking about your families, discovering he had a sister called Rebecca. Talking to you about the old good times where Steve and he were just a couple of punk wreak havoc all around Brooklyn. You couldn’t stop laughing, showing him how excited you were to know more about him and his adventures. You told him about the farm where you used to live and how you built something like a training camp to prepare yourself to join S.H.I.E.L.D. Bucky was fascinated by your determination and perseverance, comparing you to Steve when he wanted to join the army, before being Captain America.

Inevitably, you yawned when the sunset was about to happen, earning a soft nudge from the soldier. “C’mon, you should rest”.

“Yeah, I’m pretty dead… drawbacks of being only human”.

He stood up before you, helping you to get up from the ground. You walked indoors keeping silent, not knowing actually how to say goodbye. It was an awkward situation that barely lasted two seconds.

“Listen, about before… I’d appreciate it if you don’t say anyt—”.

“Sure”. Bucky interrupted you. The gesture of his face suddenly changed to a sad grimace with a feigned smile on his lips. “You don’t have to worry about”.

“Good! Uh… thank you. I bet Stark will bully me about the singing thing all the time. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes”. You couldn’t help but sigh with relief when his blue eyes, placed on his boots, were raised with a special shine on them. There, you understood what he thought about your uncompleted petition. “And about… you know, talking, I wouldn’t mind repeating it anytime else”.

“Only if you sing for me”. Bucky’s voice was like a soft breeze caressing your face, filled with hope and enthusiasm. You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes towards him. “Will be our secret”.

“Okay, deal”. You chuckled nodding. “Good night, Bucky”.

“Good night, (Y/N)”.

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[rqnvindr]

delicacies

pairing: baker!childe x gn!reader

genre: fluff, modern bakery!au, suggestive 

w.c: 1.5k

warnings: making out lol

synopsis: moving to a new country was quite the adventure. and you found new areas to travel further within the cute boy right down the road’s ocean eyes.

--

it had been a total of two weeks since you arrived in italy. getting settled was your top priority, but now that you’ve got your place set up and are getting used to college life in a new country, it was about time you started checking off some of the more leisurely activities on your checklist.

the streets were clearer, less busy than usual, on the weekend you enter the bakery. it seemed like an unpretentious, small business, with the simple, yet homely, beige walls and the old vinyl in the corner playing soft tunes. the bell rings when you enter, but no one seems to be behind the counter when you examine the array of cakes in the front display.

“welcome! i can help you when you’re ready to order!” a perky male voice interrupts you in the middle of eyeing a slice of strawberry cake. you look up to see a ginger with a warm smile, the crinkles around his blue eyes genuine. 

“hello! i was hoping to get this slice of cake right here.” you point to said strawberry treat.

“ah yes. my older brother has been WAITING for someone to try his new signature strawberry cake. but there honestly can’t be anything special about something that tastes the same no matter what.” you can practically hear the way he rolls his eyes as he takes the cake out to put it in a box. 

you raise an eyebrow. “complaining about your own products? that doesn’t seem like a very good marketing strategy, but i suppose reverse psychology will do its job.” 

“you sound like you know about sales quite a bit.” he smiles wryly. “are you a business major?”

“yup! i actually just moved here to study at the local university for an overseas program.” you only knew this guy for a maximum of 30 seconds, and he had already seemed so open and was able to read you like a book. it made you want to know more about him in exchange. 

“so your family bakes everything here?” you ask. 

“yes we do! my parents usually do the baking while my siblings and i work varying shifts here up front or stocking up the inventory. but we too, also experiment with different recipes to sell new things.” 

you hum in response. “you must have a lot of siblings then.”

the boy chuckles in response. “i do. i don’t know what i’d do without them.” he sounded so happy while talking about his family and it made you feel warm just hearing about how they worked together. 

“is this a competition for how much we can learn about each other within a span of a few minutes.” he smirks. “when we haven’t even learnt each others names yet?”

you inspect his attire, pausing at a name tag pinned to his shirt pocket. “ajax? nice to meet you, i’m (y/n).”

“well, (y/n), hope to see you again after trying my brother’s cake. hope it makes you realize that you gotta go for the chocolate or vanilla, not something that wasn’t meant to be a dessert in the first place.”

--

“i mean it was good so i came back for another one?” you can’t help but laugh when the same boy you met at the counter last week shakes his head.

“and you came to order right around closing time too, huh? guess this makes you a new challenge for me.” you avert your gaze to the ground, suddenly feeling nervous from his chastising. 

“fine, you can lose the pouty face. i’ll accept your questionable taste just this one last time.” he pushes his hair back with a sigh after packing up your order and you catch yourself staring. 

and of course, just when you allow yourself to indulge in the sight of a mysterious sea of unanswered questions in his blue eyes, he locks eyes with you. he knows you’re checking him out, causing him to smirk coyly. 

“ajax,” you begin, preventing the atmosphere from heading somewhere more tense. “have you lived here all of your life?” 

“as a matter of fact, no i haven’t. my family has been around, but i think we’ve finally found where we’re supposed to belong here. i’ve been living here long enough for people to start calling me by two different names too. ‘tartaglia’ and also ‘childe’.”

hm. so he was attractive and went by multiple names....

“‘tartaglia’? interesting, sounds like you’ve even earned yourself a name amongst the locals here.”

“i don’t know why they named me after the guy from that one play, though. maybe it’s because i leave a little bit of a stutter in people’s lives.” childe winks.

--

stutter, huh.

you thought he was just being a boastful young man. until you found yourself just happening to visit the bakery during times you predicted he’d be there. 

childe was like a peacock strutting his stuff out in the open, captivating, and divine. you had never met someone so adventurous yet down to earth at the same time. one moment he’d be bragging about his ventures with his friends, and then next thing you knew he’d do a 180 if his little brother called in the middle of your conversation. 

it wasn’t just his actions. he grew more bold with his words too. eyes shooting stars as he looked you up and down, noticing the new outfit you wore just for him when he purred about how good you looked and how it was always a treat to have someone as sweet as you visit after a long day at work. 

he was always full of surprises. you’re reminded of that when you find him standing behind the counter in a hoodie and jeans instead of his usual work attire.

“what’s up? disappointed that i’m not wearing the apron?” childe exits the space separating you two, and stands dangerously close to you. “don’t worry, i can put it back on when i show you the new frosting i’m working on.” he chuckles and rubs your shoulder, the small exchange of body heat making you feel warm all over.

“a new product, huh? is this to help your family business or to compete with your siblings?” you watch him count the cash at the register with your hands tucked underneath your chin. 

“sweetheart, even a guy like me can take on baking as a hobby rather than just a way to make ends meet or pick fights.” with that, he slides the cash register drawer closed. “come on, it should be processed by now.”

you slowly follow childe into the back. as promised, he puts the apron over his casual clothes, the sight rather domestic. 

he dips his finger into the light pink frosting after giving it one last stir and licks it off. the sight makes you shiver and lick your own lips.

“mmm. so i guess strawberry does taste pretty good. if done right of course.”

“what made you change your mind, mr.strawberry-anti?” you smirk.

“baking is a delicacy. i was never a ‘strawberry-anti’, just wary of how it’s supposed to mesh with desserts for the sake of compliancy. i made this frosting to test it out some more, and as a special treat. for you.”

before you can receive his gesture to claim your treat, childe gives you the same glimmering look that he always uses before pulling at your heartstrings even further. 

and it becomes way too much for you to handle when he leans his face closer to yours.

“here, have a taste.” childe teasingly presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. he continues to leave gentle pecks on your lips, and you let out shaky breaths every time he pulls away.

“why did you stop?” you whine and he hovers over your entire body this time, pushing your hips onto the counter.

“hm, not enough? come closer then.” you wrap your arms around his neck, this time, getting a real taste of his creation when he claims your mouth whole. 

you grip onto his hair when he adds more pressure into the kiss, pulling especially harder when he nibbles on your bottom lip. as if having unlocked the key to your greatest depths, he effortlessly slides his tongue into your mouth, and you moan upon tasting the lingering strawberry flavor mixed with the feeling of your tongues connecting.

much to your dismay, you both pull away for air. your breaths mingle hotly before he coaxes you into taking a bit more for yourself. not long after you savor the sweetness, childe’s lips are back on yours. the way he sucks the cream off your lips makes your head spin, making you forget about everything else but this one boy in front of you, the mystery boy in a foreign country who sent you through a rollercoaster during only your first month of living here. 

“ajax...” you breathe out his name when he lets go of your now swollen and red lips. the boy proceeds to kiss your cheek and jawline gently, laughing softly against your skin.

“i can’t help it, baby. it tastes even better on you.”

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Can I place an order for Yandere Geralt de Rivia with the kind and loving reader who sees the best in people?

Yes lemme cook something up for our mans Geralt⚔️

Geralt of Rivia x reader - Full Moon on the Rise

Summary: You’ve never felt actual hate for others, you can’t even bring yourself to hurt a fly, and with Geralt, he’ll make sure you never have to.

Warning: a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, protective Geralt

Masterlist

“So what do you think? The green cloak or the black one....ohhh or maybe the red one?” You ask excitedly as Geralt stands next to you, looking around for any potential threats more then actually paying any real attention, “I mean, the green matches more with the woods, you know trees n’ such and that’s great for blending in. But the black gives off those scary vibes you have. But the dark red one just looks so good, and comfy too.” You raise a brow as he nods, “You know.”

“Right.”

You smile at his adorably lack luster reply, it’s just how he is and that’s perfectly fine with you, “I’m going with the dark red cloak.” You grin with a curt nod of self approval for your knowledgeable decision making skills.

Turning to the cloak vendor you hold up your prize, “Good evening ma’am, how much for this mysterious beauty?”

The old woman smiles brightly, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as she beams, quite excited to have some business with you, “Oh, my dear that’ll be five silver pieces.” You nod, tucking your new cloak under your arm as you nudge Geralt for some coin.

He quickly snaps his head over to you, his golden irises showing concern before he realizes you’re completely fine, “Y/N what is it?”

With a small giggle you make a grabby motion with your hand, “Spare me five silver pieces my good sir.” You muse with a mischievous brow wiggle, earning an amused huff from your Witcher.

He politely grins, “Whatever the lady asks.” Feeling around he pulls out the exact amount of coin you need. Your palm is spread as he tilts his hand into yours, conveniently giving you the coin.

“Thank you my love.” You whisper softy as he simply hands you the flash of a smile before turning his head to scour the market place once again.

The old woman opens up a small sack of coins for you to dump yours in, “Thank ya dear, have a save eve’nin.”

Clink. Sounds the last silver piece as you hold your new dirt-less red cloak closer in your arm, “You too.”

She suddenly leans in a bit closer, her face going serious, “Best keep that Witcher close, never know what kind of beasts be lurking in the woods. Specially with the next full moons a com’in.” Her wrinkly complexion turning back into her original beaming old lady face, “Have a nice stay in Bellepav.”

Stepping away you nervously nod, “Uh, yes....I’ll try?” You reply, not certain if you should be concerned or ignore the weirdness of the locals.

Deciding to ignore the strange behavior of the kind old woman, you flash her a last generous grin before turning on your heel and walking over to Geralt. With the familiar sound of your approaching footsteps he turns an intrigued eye over to you.

His brows furrowing as you gently lay a hand on his arm, “You alright Y/N.” He worries, noticing the slight wariness in your step.

Lightly squeezing his forearm you send him a reassuring smile, “Of course, that old woman was just acting odd. Well not that odd, I’ve definitely seen weirder....she just had a strange look when she told me to keep you close and watch out for the next full moon.”

He moves to take your cloak from you, quietly swinging the thick comfortable dark red fabric around your shoulders, clasping the lock together that keeps the material from falling off your body.

After he’s done, does his beautiful golden eyes find your alluring ones, “Y/N, we’ll be fine. I wouldn’t dare let a soul touch you, you have my word.”

Reaching up to gently cup his scruffy cheek, you smirk, “I know you do.” Releasing your warm touch from his face do you turn towards the bakers cart, the smell of fresh bread wafting into your nostrils.

“Geralt!” You exclaim with an excited twinkle in your eyes, “Fresh bread....” Your skilled eyes land upon the shiny red apples displayed about on the stall, “Apples! Ugh, I haven’t had an actual apple in almost four months, what I would do for one.”

Your eyes stare dreamily at the bakers cart, your mouth watering at the smell and sight of the desired foods. Geralt chuckles at your adorable reaction before tugging at your arm. “Come on Y/N, I’ll get you something.” Speaks your kind Witcher with a tinge of humor in his gravely voice.

Snapping your head towards him, your eyes going wide in excitement, “Aww yes!” You shout before pulling him in the direction of the cart, joy flowing through your heart as you make hasty steps across the market place.

The red apples are even more beautiful then you’d first seen as you stand ogling them from your spot in the muddy lane, “Sir I’d like three apples and a loaf of that bread please.” You ask, your voice sweet as honey.

He nods, “That’ll be two silver pieces and a copper cent.” Inquires the baker with a friendly smile, casually looking you up and down though you’re to focused on the apples to even notice his slight creepiness.

Geralt does and immediately steps forward, his broad leather armored shoulder placing itself in between you and the lonely baker. His golden irises dark and deadly as he stares down the now noticeably frightened man.

The baker takes a step back, sending him a shy half grin, “Uh...I’ll get those apples...and uh...loaf of br-bread.” He stutteres, dropped his eyes to nothing else but his new task at hand.

You watch from behind Geralt’s strong body, your mind on those big beautiful apples as Geralt fishes out the coin, dropping it atop the wooden table as the baker hands him the loaf and a small bag filled with three juicy red apples.

A smile breaks out upon your face as Geralt hands you the food, you gratefully accept as he turns and practically death glares at the stunned baker, who’s notably averted his gaze to his fluffy loaves of bread.

Geralt turns back around to watch as you hug your valuables close, a small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips at your obliviously cute demeanor.

Resting a hand on your shoulder he finds your beaming eyes, “Lets go find Roach.”

You gasp, “I bet Roach would love one of these big beautiful bastards.” Earning a chuckle from your silver haired lover as he walks by your side on the way to the front entrance of the small village.

You both wander past some more harmless villagers going about their business until a small dirty little boy races past the two of you, tripping over his own two feet and just like that does he abruptly fall into the dirt. His hands landing with a thwack sound as his stomach and knees reach the hard ground.

He lets out a pained cry once his chin hits the earth, you don’t have time to think before you’ve crouched by his side like a concerned mother. You gently touch his shoulder as he sniffles, his dirt smudged face turning to you.

“That was quite the tumble, are you alright?” His big brown eyes are filled with unshed tears as he moves into a seated position, his hands clutched tight against his chest as he holds in the pain.

“Y-yes.....sorry miss I should have been looking were I was going.” He mutters, his eyes downcast as he avoids Geralt’s hard gaze from right next to you.

Your eyes turn soft before you take one of your red apples from out of your thin ruck sack, “I have just the thing that would cheer you up, ever taste something as colorful as this crimson beauty?” You add with a raise of your brow, the young boy sniffles again. His face lighting up as you wave the shining red apple across his line of sight.

You smile, handing him the scarlet treat, “I think you need this more then me. Maybe it’ll sharped those senses so you won’t fall again, hmm.”

He holds the valuable in his small grubby fingers, his eyes wide in surprised wonder, “Th-thank you miss, I’ll try and not fall again.”

You breath out an amused snort, “Yes, I wouldn’t want to land on these streets again, considering horses are ridden through them daily.” The brown eyed boy gives you the shyest of smiles before you stand to your full height once again.

“Safe travels.” You add with a friendly wink before continuing on your way out of the village, Geralt trailing after you like the ever loyal lover that he is.

His large form keeps comfortably at your side, “That was our apple Y/N.” States Geralt in his titular gruff Witcher voice.

Turning an amused smirk to him, you nudge his arm, “Great observation, but the little beast seemed to need it more...poor thing just about face planted in the street. Did look quite painful.”

Geralt smiles, always bemused by your kind intellect, “Y/N you are too kind.”

Walking past the front gates and down the muddy village trail you let out a small laugh, “What? Can I not give a little, if you haven’t noticed my White Wolf...this world doesn’t like to be very kind to the innocent most times.” He hums in agreement, “So you see, I’ll do whatever I can to help those who need it most. And if that’s a clumsy child with a dirty face, I’ll be glad to make their day better.”

You can’t see it, but Geralt’s heart could just about explode with how much love he has for you in this very moment, the way you speak with such care and kindness for the people of the continent. He’s never met anyone like you, through it all, with all you’ve seen, your heart still goes out for the ones who need it the most and Geralt knows this. 

Your whole aurora feels light and warm, excitement courses through your vessel as you think of how happy Roach is going to be once she gets a taste of your delicious apple. And especially how much you’re looking forward to taking a bite out of your own crispy red apple too. It’s the little things.

Boots press into mud as you finally find your way to the small stream where you both left Roach to nibble on some vegetation. You quickly set your loaf of bread onto a mossy log before reaching in your thin ruck sack to pull out one beautifully shiny crimson apple.

“Hello my dear Roach!” You exclaim happily as the mare neighs, “I’ve got a lil somethin’ for ya, it’s a...da da da daaaa....apple!” Geralt chuckles to himself in the background as he fumbles around in his black traveling bag, finding something to sharpen his sword with.

“How bout’ them apples..” you burst with laughter at your admittedly cheesy jest, “Okay, okay...here ya go Roach. A prize for the best lady in all the land.” Her head bobs up and down as you bring the red apple near her face. She quickly devours the fruit in a matter of seconds, the speed and her clear delight enough to earn a giggle from you.

“Roach.” You tut with a shake of your head, “Those manners are something else. Wonder who you learned them from?”

You turn an eye to Geralt who’s stopped sharpening his sword to find your humored gaze, “I wouldn’t have the slightest idea.” He mutters, doing his best to hide his growing smile.

Turning a flustered face away from him you gently pet Roach’s soft mane, “He thinks he’s funny, doesn’t he?” You whisper to the mare.

After tending to Roach for a bit do you walk down to the stream, washing away the dirt and grime from your hands and face as Geralt starts a fire close by. You can feel his golden irises watching you as the cool water washes away the worries of the day.

Finishing up your nightly routine, you stand once more, turning around to face the loving smile of your dear Witcher. You walk over to his glowing fire, a small smile upon your lips, “Room for one more?”

He scoots himself down the log, patting to the extra spot, “There’s always room for you.”

Sitting yourself next to him, he quickly wraps a protective arm around you, pulling your body close. The both of you do nothing but enjoy one another’s company and the crackling of the campfire for what seems like hours. You couldn’t be bothered to remove yourself from Geralt even if a whole war party was racing past you both louder then a giants scream.

Though you’re just about certain without a doubt in your mind that Geralt feels the exact same way. His breathing his steady and calm, it’s a comforting rhythm that you could listen to for hours. Even his large muscular arm is warm against your body, he’s like a furnace on the coldest night. And all yours.

You’re just about to drift off into dreamland when a sudden loud howl is heard in the near distance causing you to jump. Geralt hugs you closer, “Fear not Y/N, it’s just a damn wolf, nothing to be afraid of.” He assures you with the kindest of smiles, not a note of falseness lacing his words.

Resting your head against his broad shoulder once again, you gently squeeze his hand, “Right, of course. Just a stupid old wolf who apparently feels it the time to howl at the full moon tonight.” You affirm with a curt nod, “I mean, it’s beautiful out and whatnot, guess it just startled me is all.”

“There’s nothing in these woods to be afraid of, except for me.” Grumbles Geralt as he stares into the embers of the fire.

“Oh, my love I could never be afraid of you. Never.” He smiles at your truthfulness, his chest filling with warmth at your kind words.

In reply he places a gentle kiss atop your head, earning a content sigh to leave your lips at the feeling, he is too good to you and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not once has he ever made you uncomfortable or in fear for your life because of him, Geralt makes sure of himself to always put you first. He couldn’t bare to ever see you in pain.

The grip on your Witcher’s arm goes tighter at the sound of another piercing howl, this time much too close for your liking. Geralt can sense the fearful uneasiness radiating off of your smaller frame, how your heartbeat has picked up with the rush of your nerves. You’re not one to scare that easily, but this wolf is most definitely getting closer for whatever reason.

“Geralt!” You whisper yell, “That sounded close!”

With one arm wrapped around your torso and the other one clasped around the hilt of his silver sword, he looks around him as they two of you keep seated atop the log, a grand moon cloaking the land in a strangely beautiful whiteness. Revealing enough light upon the ground so that not all of the forest is covered in darkness and shadow.

“Don’t worry Y/N, I will protect you.” He swears to you, giving a light squeeze to your hip in a small act of comfort, “And anyways, if this was anything to be truly concerned about, Roach would show it. We are going to be fine. This wolf is simply just passing through.”

Your eyes glance over to Roach who’s casually nibbling on some grass, “Alright. Perhaps I’m overreacting, it’s just a wolf going on a nightly stroll as you do, nothing weird about that.”

“Precisely, now how about we get ready for bed? I’ve got the bed rolls already layed out for us....so don’t worry Y/N I’ve got you.” Reassures your Witcher as he removes his arm from your side to rest his sword in the grass right next to his makeshift bed. 

Feeling much better now you eagerly follow suit, the roughish cloth of your traveling bed roll is a cherished luxury of journeying across the vast lands of the continent. Though a tavern mattress would be more inviting, the arms of Geralt are always enough in your eyes, or perhaps arms in this case.

Even on the coldest of nights out here would you never really feel a shiver or the icy touch of the cool night air upon your skin. For your Witcher’s large frame seems to always be enough to block out the chill with his body heat when pressed closely against your back.

 Just like he is doing now, holding you securely to his large chest, his arms wrapped around your torso. Pulling yourself firmly counter to him, a thick blanket holding in the needed heat that nicely covers over the both of you.

With Geralt so near, your wandering and worrying mind has subsided those troublesome thoughts away from you, the howling wolf from earlier now finding it’s way into the back of your head. Giving yourself time to forget and find the call to sleep once again. With the warmth of Geralt holding you close, your eyelids flutter shut in a matter of seconds, the pull into the dark void of unconsciousness taking hold of you quickly.

Soon you’re out like a light, Geralt falling asleep not long after you do, leaving only the dull glowing embers of the campfire to keep watch over the two of you. Sleep is peaceful and full of strange images presenting themselves as dreams in your head, you can hear the soft sweet calling of Geralt as he speaks sweet nothings into the bleary grey void. 

Suddenly you’re standing in a large field of the greenest grasses flowing at your feet, large beautiful mountains surrounding you on all sides off in the far distance, you look to your left and find a single small tree with a branch sticking out. 

Walking closer, a black raven materializes right before your very eyes, breaking the silence with a gravelly shrill caw as it nods in your direction. Like it’s trying to communicate with you in the birds own way, furrowing your brows, you trek closer to the mysterious bird. You don’t appear to feel afraid or scared, you’re not even sure if you feel anything at all. Guess that’s just how dreams are sometimes.

Taking another step closer the raven lets out a thrilling caw before the dark bird spreads its black wings, you stumble back as the bird jumps from its perch to take flight. It flaps past you before landing on the short green grass where it is immediately clouded in dark smoke of blues, purples, and deep reds until everything clears to reveal the dirt smudged face of the little boy from earlier that day.

You gasp, surprised to see the little guy standing right before you once again, he looks up to you now, the tiniest of smiles crossing over his face. You stand perplexed, ready to ask him why he’s here when suddenly he points to the blue sky. 

“Hold your silver close.” He speaks softly, in that unassuming boyish voice of his.

Hugging yourself, you glance back down at him, “Sorry? I’m not sure what you mean.”

He simply points his little stubby finger back up at the sky, you follow, bewildered to find that the sky is now dark and full of stars, though you can still see around you like the sun is still out. How odd.

“Hold your Witcher close.” Warns the small child in the calmest of voices. 

Furrowing your brows in confusion you meet his stoic gaze once again. “Uh....I’m kind of lost, sorry.” You mutter, “I’m not certain what you mean.”

The child smiles a beaming grin, letting out the most adorable of giggles before pointing up at the night sky for the third time, you shift your gaze to find nothing but pitch blackness. And a huge milk white glowing full moon, it’s the largest you’ve ever seen and it’s absolutely magnificent.

You don’t even notice the smile that's fallen onto your face when you suddenly hear the flapping of feathers, snapping your sight back over to the young boy, you’re perplexed to be greeted with the beaming wrinkly face of the old woman from the market. 

She nods, acknowledging your presence, “Watch for what lurks in the woods dear. The full moon is here.” She whispers, the warmest of smiles gracing over her aged face as she nods to you once again.

Taking a step closer you take a nervous fistful of the red cloak that’s covering your body, how strange you didn’t notice the material before hand. “Oh, uh hello there....it is quite beautiful isn’t it.” You stammer, “There was a little boy just here moments ago. Do you know where he went?”

She tilts her head to the side, walking a couple steps forward so that she can reach out to clasp both your hands with hers, a kind twinkle in her eye, “My dear, he will always love you, through land and sea, from woods to meadow, and far beyond what makes us human.” She gently squeezes your hands in reassurance, “No matter the cost, he will always love you. For you are his moon, and he is your sun.”

Your brows scrunch together at her poetic words of wisdom? Or, well you’re not entirely so sure, “Sorry. I’m not confident on what you’re getting at ma’am, uh...thank you, I guess.” She smiles once again, showing you a nod of approval before letting go of your hands. 

She takes a step back, clasping her palms together, “He is here.” 

“Who is here?” You wonder.

“You will see.”

Without warning she abruptly bursts into a flurry of cawing ravens that squawk and screech as they press and flap their dark wings against your face, causing you to fall back into the grass from the jolting intrusion. Suddenly you suck in a quick breath of cold air, your eyes shooting wide open, only for you to find the snoozing face of Geralt. 

His tangled dirty white hair a mess over his handsome face as he lets in slow and calming breaths, you relax, letting out an audible sigh of relief. What a strange dream that was, you’ve never had anything like it before. And your dreams are far from anything normal most times. 

Though Geralt feels rather nice snuggled next to you, your body feels hot and sweaty, like you can’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed and cornered at the moment. Wanting to get some air and cool off, you quietly and skillfully slip from your Witcher’s sweet embrace. You slowly cover him back up with the thick blanket, tip-toeing over to Roach who’s itching her furry bottom on a tree.

You take small steps towards her, a half smile pulling at the corner of your lips, “Hey there girl, having fun?” You chuckle to yourself as she does her thing.

“Nice night huh, I hope no one’s come around to bother you.” She leans her big soft nose into your gentle touch as you pet her, “I got a little too warm, guess Geralt’s a lot hotter then I anticipated. Well, I mean...he’s always hot if you catch my meaning...but you probably already new that and uh....you’d probably rather not listen to me ramble on about how attractive your rider is, hmm? So don’t fret, I will stop.”

She snorts, nudging her nose into your opened palm, “Okay girl, I think you’re great too. I’d say you’ve helped us out quite a bit and not to mention when...” 

Snap.

Your head leers to the left at the abrupt sound, nothing but milky white darkness and shadow is to be seen as your eyes trail over the wood line. That was certainly very close, what the hell even made that stick break? Was it a deer, or maybe a coyote? 

Your nerves prick when Roach suddenly takes a wary step backwards, her leather reigns pulling to their limit as she takes another step away from you. Thinking quick, you rush to her side, pulling out Geralt’s other silver sword just incase some weird shit is about to go down.

Grasping the blade in your tight grip, you take cautious steps towards the heavy pines that seems to be the place where the stick snapped. You swallow nervously, your heart just about beating out of your chest as you travel closer and closer to the green bristles. 

Y/N what are you doing? Have you learned nothing from what those weird dreams were telling you?

Blinking hard, you stop, turning an apprehensive glance over to your peacefully sleeping Witcher, why wake him this could be a simple deer? Letting out another shaky breath you turn towards the thick pine trees, squinting your eyes as you try and do your absolute best to locate the intruder. Walking past a small evergreen, your heart feels like it’s about to explode when suddenly you hear a gentle rustle of leaves directly in front of you.

Turn back idiot.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you blink again, attempting to focus enough that maybe you’ll be able to see what’s making that noise. But as you’re leaning in to the pines, does your eyes finally catch the sight of a large black figure standing on the other side of the tree. Without warning the shadow leaps, you don’t even have a chance to scream before the flash of pearly white fangs reveals itself to you in a raging blur. 

The beast shoves you back into the clearing, emitting a blood curdling howl of agony as it steps into the moonlight, your eyes widen in fear at the chilling sight of a huge dark-grey werewolf. It’s inhuman eyes that of glowing topaz, it’s fangs bare and mouth dripping with saliva. Your chest rises and falls with heavy terrified breaths as the wolfman stands on two legs, its strong hand going to its stomach where a thick human like paw pulls out your silver blade.

Steaming red hot blood pours to the frost covered earth as the beast drops the shinning silver to the ground, its wound showing in the bright moonlight as it eyes you down like you’re nothing more then a lost sheep. You shiver at the sight, desperately scooting yourself backwards towards the fire as the werewolf growls a low but haunting note, falling onto all fours as it takes a step closer.

A frightful tear falls down the side of your cheek, you see nothing but hunger and pain in this creatures eyes, he’s slowly dying, but you know he will kill you before his last breath is had.

The wolfman growls again, readying a last charge when all of a sudden a shimmering silver sword is thrust deeply into the beasts throat, the source of its demise steps in between you and the wounded bastard.

Your eyes are wide as you watch the werewolf sink to the earth, gargling and choking on it’s own blood as it dies, twitching here and there before finally it goes still as stone. Not a sound emitting from it’s vessel but the heavy breaths of yourself and Geralt, who’s walked over to the beast now. Crouching down to observe it better, he hums, pulling the blood covered sword out of the monsters throat with a gross meaty sound.

You let out a shaky breath, slowly pulling yourself to your feet as Geralt drags his bloody silver over the beasts fur to clean the wet red from the blade. You swallow thickly, eyes watery from the whole frightening ordeal, “So not a deer as I had hoped.” You mutter, a nervous chuckle leaving your lips causing you to gasp in pain at something on your ribs. 

Geralt pierces his sword into the soft dirt, his face a mask of frustrated anger as he turns to you, “Y/N what where you thinking? You could have been killed, you didn’t know what was lurking in the dark, why wouldn’t you have just stayed by the fire?” He grumbles as you avoid his troubled gaze.

Another tear slips down your cheek causing his face to immediately soften, “I don’t know?” You whisper sadly, “I...I shouldn’t have thought to walk in the dark alone like that, it was foolish of me Geralt, truly...I’ll think better of it next time I promi- agh ugh...”A sharp jolting pain rips through your body right down the side of your right ribcage, feeling like someone has just burned you with a cast iron. 

More whimpers slip from your tongue at the searing violent stinging of your flesh causing you to press your hands against the area, your face contorting into one of agony while Geralt’s expression reveals deep concern. Not understanding in the slightest why you feel such misery all of a sudden, your eyes slip down to the dreaded area where you take notice of how your dark coat appears to be torn in jagged slashes where the pain is coming from.

Your brows furrow as you slowly remove your tied overcoat, Geralt’s big golden irises studying your every move for what the problem may be. Your hands make quick work of the lacing, now your arms move as you remove the jacket, you gasp in fear once it falls to the ground.

“Y/N.” Whispers Geralt in the softest of voices as a lone tear slides down your cheek.

Slowly you raise your weary head to meet is saddened gaze, “I’ve been bitten.” You rasp, lifting your bloody hand up into the silky moonlight, the burning ache of your wound making itself more present then ever.

Suddenly a surging spike of white hot torment angrily tears up into your side once more, though this time it’s too overwhelmingly excruciating that you fall to your knees, desperately grasping your wounded side when Geralt takes quick steps forward. Pulling you into his strong arms before you’re able to even hit the cold earth completely, his eyes never leaving your distressed face.

“Y/N look at me love, I’m right here...” He speaks gently while holding you close, though you can’t look at him, “don’t be afraid I’ve got you.”

More fearful tears fall freely now as you press your face into his shoulder, a numb and dark feeling finding it’s way into your soul while your arms wrap themselves around his waist, “No, not this.” You cry, shaking with fright, “This cannot be, I-I cannot be a wolf beast....I won’t ever harm anyone Geralt I swear to you on my life, I would never! I-I could never, it isn’t in me!” 

“Oh Y/N, my dear Y/N..” His voice surprises you with how uncharacteristically tender it sounds, “Look at me love.” He pleads calmly, pulling you from his shoulder so that you may look into his kind-hearted gaze, “Do you think now, that I would dare lay my blade against your precious skin?” Your lip quivers as your watery eyes slip from his to the werewolf laying dead near the two of you.

“I am one of them now Geralt. How can I live as this now, I am not a monster. I can’t hurt innocent people, I can’t.” You exclaim, your voice breaking as you speak, “All the years we have been together have been the happiest of my entire life, know this Geralt. You bring me so much joy and light that I never imagined I could ever feel, you have given me your heart even when you first claimed you could not love. I will never forget that.” His heart breaks in two at your truthful words of honesty paired with how somber and dismal you appear.

Not being able to stand you looking away from him for much longer, he carefully lifts a hand up to turn your face to his, leaving his palm on your cheek in a comforting manner, “Y/N my love, you will never be a monster in my eyes, not once not ever. I may be a Witcher, but you will not meet an untimely end due to this curse that has made it’s way into your vessel.” His eyes are soft and serene, full of absolute love and adoration for you.

Y/N he will not hurt you, but you cannot hurt others.

You sniffle, your voice thick as you speak, “I will not let others suffer a violent death because of me Geralt, it’s not in my blood.”

“You will not, there is always another way..”

“There is no other way!” You interrupt, sure of yourself that this new affliction will be your inevitable demise, “A werewolf cannot be broken of their curse once it is had, there are no known antidotes!”

“Y/N..”

“This bite cannot be undone Geralt.”

Eyes softening, he pulls you in closer to rest his head against your own, “My dear Y/N, your life means more to me then you know. I will find you the cure, I have seen a vial of it myself long ago when visiting an experienced alchemist who taught me many things about potion making. He will surly know how to rid this she-wolf within you, I am sure of it.”

Lifting your face away from his, you finally show him the tiniest of relieved smiles, your heart bursting with joy at this refreshing news, “You never fail to surprise me, even now. I trust you...I love you Geralt of Rivia with my entire being, every part of me from now until death. I guess this world has yet to bring me down.” 

Studying your newly determined expression, he grins with eyes full of love, “I do not doubt it my dear one.”

[inhuman-obey-me]

The Agony & The Ecstasy

Can also be read on AO3 here

Word Count: 5.2k

Description: #HappyBirthdayAsmodeus 2021!! Before he was the Avatar of Lust, he was the Jewel of the Heavens. A journey from the angel Asmo used to be, to the demon he's become.

[cw: sexual mentions]

The Agony

He sat before the mirror of his bedroom, sketching his lean cheeks with their high bone ridges, his soft lips, the gentle curls of his champagne-toned hair, the light in his orange-yellow eyes.

The Jewel of the Heavens, they called him. The most beautiful of the angels. So lovely that even Jophiel, the patron angel of artists, had asked if she could have a painting to keep of him. And so, here he was, trying to capture his image on canvas for the archangel.

Asmodeus was proud of how everyone admired him, but truthfully he didn't think it was anything so special. Rather, he was more focused on how lovely everyone else around him was. He wouldn't say that he wasn't beautiful, but so was anyone, in one way or another. There was so much to admire in everyone that his heart ached every day. He longed to help them see themselves the way he saw them.

The lilting notes of a bird's song through the open window broke him out of his thoughts, and he set his sketch down for the moment to greet it.

"Well hello, bluebird dear," he greeted it with a smile, holding his hand out. "How are you today?" The bird trilled with delight in response, rubbing its head against his fingers, and he laughed, petting the creature. "Your singing is so lovely, my dear. What a beautiful day to hear your song."

"Oi, Asmo, good, you're here!" he heard his brother call from below the window. "Lilith and the twins snuck off down to the human world again, could ya go get them? Geez, those troublemakers...I've gotta help Lucifer with somethin' so I need you to go, okay?"

"Whaaaat, they went and they didn't invite me?" he pouted. "I can't believe them!"

"Hey, hey, that's not the point," Mammon groaned, rolling his eyes at his younger sibling. "Gabriel is looking for Beel and Belphie, and you know he'll flip if he finds out they went down to the human realm without permission."

"Okay, okay, I got it. I'll get them, don't worry! Walk with me to the portal?"

"Agh, I'm busy you know," Mammon groaned, though he didn't seem all that upset. "But fine, I get it, ya wanna spend some time with your big older brother! Leave it to Mammon!"

"You tell yourself that," Asmo giggled. He hopped down from the window, fluttering down gracefully on the lightness of his robes. "So where in the human world do you think they went this time?"

"Well, you know, Belphie always wants to go to that circus he likes. He mighta dragged the other two along with him."

"Ooooh, right, the circus! The acrobats are so graceful, with the way they glide around in the air. They don't even have wings, but they figured out a way to look like they're flying! Humans really are interesting, aren't they?"

"You think so? I think it's kinda scary, man," Mammon shuddered.

"Well just because you might trip over yourself even on the ground doesn't mean everyone's that clumsy!" Asmo teased.

"Oi! Take that back! I can walk just fine, thank you!"

"Heehee!"

"Anyway, if they're not at the circus, maybe one of those restaurants? Beel's been eating a lot lately, maybe he wanted to try some human realm food."

"Ah, yeah! The fancy restaurants down there make such pretty dishes! The chefs are such artists," Asmo said admiringly, eyes glittering. "I'd like to try one too..."

"Hey, don't forget you're goin' there to get the twins to come back! Don't get distracted by running off down there yourself!"

"But I never get to go down to see the human realm! And the three of them like it so much, you know, it'd be nice to see how pretty everything is for myself," Asmo smiled innocently.

The two of them stopped as they reached their destination.

"Oi, Asmo, I'm serious. You better not go off hitting on everyone you see again," Mammon warned.

"Hey! I'm not hitting on them, I just think everyone is beautiful, and they should know it," Asmo protested. "You're just jealous because they like me more than you. But if you saw the good in everyone you met like me, they'd love you too! You should try it sometime!"

"Ugh, Asmo...don't be gross. And seriously, come right back once you find them. Gabriel's gonna have my hide too if they don't report to him soon, after he asked me to send them over."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, I'll be back before you know it!"

The younger brother waved breezily as he stepped through the portal.

--

When the light of the portal faded from his vision, Asmodeus found himself in a quiet, hidden spot of a sunny park. Birds chirped, dogs were playing, and he could hear the screaming laughter of children from farther away. In the distance, he could see a news board by the nearby street, which seemed as good a place as any to start checking for information about the circus.

Before he could make it over there, though, a young woman stopped him. "Ahh, excuse me! I just, um, y-you're really handsome, and um...I-I just wanted to say hello. Are you visiting our town? Would you like to spend some time together....maybe come with me to the bakery down the street?! I want to get to know you," she blurted out.

He laughed with delight. "Oooh, aren't you adorable! Forget me, you're so pretty yourself! Your skin is so radiant, and your eyes are so sweet," he cooed. She blushed bright red at the compliments immediately. "Oh! But...I don't have time to go to a bakery right now, I'm looking for my little siblings. Unless you've seen a pair of boys with a girl around there? A tall guy with orange hair, and a sleepy black-haired boy?"

"I, um..." she paused, mind racing on how to keep him interested. "You know, I-I might have seen them. Or maybe, um...maybe the baker has! P-people are going in there all the time, you know, s-so maybe he might have seen them...? I'm sure he'll be able to help!"

It was fairly obvious that she was lying, but Asmo couldn't help but be charmed by her shy attempts at staying with him. His heart tugged him to go along with it anyway, just as it tugged at anyone he came across, especially those who were so drawn in by him too. He couldn't help it, even if it got him into trouble at times. So he agreed.

"Hmm, is that so? Okay! Let's go then."

She led him along the road to the bakery, an extravagant little spot for the size of the shop, where the man at the counter unhelpfully told them that he'd seen a lot of boys around and couldn't possibly remember them all. "Maybe if you buy some bread, I might remember better. I recommend some of these tarts...and you'd better take this big loaf right here too, to be sure I don't forget again," he said with a vicious grin. "We charge by the ounce, of course."

The angel gave him a bright smile back. "Oooh, they do look delicious! You must be so talented to create such beautiful things, sir! Oh, but...I don't have any money on me..."

This clearly irked the man, though something about Asmo's cheerful expression at least stopped him from throwing the pair straight out of the shop, as he usually might with people like this, who came in with no money. He eyed the golden bangle on his visitor's wrist. "Give me that then," he demanded, pointing. "I'll give it to my daughter. She'll like it."

Against his better judgment, the angel obliged. After all, it was just a part of the human world disguise he wore - he could just make another one later. And the baker was going to give it to his daughter, which was certainly kind. Or at least, he thought that was better than just selling it, like most people would. How lovely for a father to want to give his daughter nice presents. "Here, you can have this then. So, about my brothers...?"

The human greedily snatched the bangle from his palm. "Sure, they came in, just about an hour ago probably. The orange-haired one bought more bread than I thought I would sell all day. The girl, she was talking about wanting to visit someone in town. She didn't mention where, but it sounded like it was near the square. And the boys, they wanted to go to the circus that's visiting. They're over at the edge of town."

Satisfied with this new information but not exactly pleased about what the exchange had cost him, he thanked the baker and excused himself from both humans.

Frustrating as it was, this was how it always went. Asmodeus felt himself filled to the brim overflowing with love for everyone, painfully so. And no matter how they lied, or tried to trick him, or took advantage of him, he still loved them so much. It wasn't that he was naive, or that he didn't notice, but just that he always still saw the good parts of them too.

At least he knew where to head from here, though. It sounded like Lilith had probably split off from the twins, but since Mammon had only asked him to send Beel and Belphie back, he'd worry about her later. First, the circus.

Luckily, by this point, Belphegor had been caught dragging his twin to such shows often enough that Asmo could pretty easily predict what area of the audience he'd find them in. He made his way into the tent and quickly located the pair. "You two!" he hissed quietly from the row behind them. "You know you shouldn't be running off to the human world while everyone is still working! Mammon said Gabriel was looking for you. You'd better get back, right now!"

The twins looked at him guiltily, two sets of apologetic eyes. "Sorry, it's my fault...Lilith said she wanted to visit someone, and you know Lucifer always scolds her not to go down alone. So I said we should come too," Beelzebub explained quickly.

"It's my fault too, Beel," Belphie added. "After she met up with them, I wanted to come see the circus again...sorry."

"Ahhh, okay, okay! I can't be mad at such cute younger brothers! Just hurry up and go!" Asmo said, waving away their apologies. "I'll find Lilith to make sure she comes back okay too."

Relieved at his easy forgiveness, the two of them slipped out quietly to head back.

The elder brother sat there a while longer. He'd never actually been to a circus himself before, and he was curious. It was entrancing - contortionists twisting their bodies in fascinating ways, trapeze artists flying gracefully across the air, the balance of the tightrope walkers and the authority of the ringmaster. Though he didn't know them, his heart ached with admiration at the performers below. It was easy to see why their youngest brother loved coming to these so much.

Before he knew it, he had stayed to the end of the show, and the audience was filtering out around him. But he didn't want to leave just yet, and longed for more. Without really thinking, he wandered out to the back of the tent, to the performer's entrance.

"Oh? A fan?"

He blushed a little as realized his mistake, meeting the eyes of the acrobat who had addressed him. "Hi there! I guess you could call me a fan, yes? Your performances out there were just sooo beautiful!"

An amused smile crossed her face. "Well aren't you a cutie. What's your name, hon?"

"I'm Asmodeus!" he replied cheerily. "But my brothers call me Asmo."

"Asmo, eh? Heh. Well, thanks for the compliments, Asmo," she said, leaning in to play with a strand of his hair. "I'm Naamah. Glad you enjoyed the show."

From this close, he could see every detail of how stunning the woman was. Her makeup was thick, as it needed to be for the stage, but it suited her somehow, like her face had always been meant to wear it this way. A tight bun of dark hair sat atop her head, ringed by a blue and red crown of feathers that matched the bright colors of a costume that showed off every curve of her slender, athletic body.

"In fact, Asmo, my dear fan," she continued, "today's your lucky day. I don't feel like sticking around for another of the top hat's fucking lectures about how we need to do better tomorrow. So what do you say we go find ourselves a party, love?"

He thought guiltily back to Lilith, who he had promised to find and escort home. But on the other hand, she had come to see someone, and he didn't really know when she'd be done meeting with this person, or where they were at this point. And he'd never actually been to a party before...

--

"Have another drink, Asmo, I insist," Naamah laughed tipsily, passing him another cup of wine. "You act like you've never let loose before!"

Truthfully, he sort of hadn't, and for his part, Asmodeus was having a magnificent time. A quaint little band of musicians played upbeat, joyful music from the edge of the courtyard, which was packed with merry folks in all sorts of costumes. His new friend had mentioned on their way here that it was a costume party, and the costumes truly did not disappoint - people here were dressed up as angels, demons, all kinds of animals, and even as things he'd never heard of before. Even after changing partially back into his angel form to let his wings free, he didn't feel like he stood out any more than anyone else.

And the dancing! The overflowing love he felt had an outlet for once, here where he could feed the energy back through his movements, passing from partner to partner without anyone to scold him for being too loose with his love. He couldn't help but think that the Celestial Realm felt so stuffy by comparison - all music back home being generally restricted to choirs to their father, and none of the raucous laughter and chatter filling the air the way the humans were doing here. The seraphs were strict on the lower angels, insisting on upright perfection at all times.

"This is so much fun," he said as he clinked his new cup against Naamah's with a laugh, giggling even harder when she then leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Pass it on," she dared in a whisper to his ear.

Being the Jewel of the Heavens, always filled with love as he was, it didn't take long for him to find another person to pass the kiss on to. He got up and lightly pecked a man by the sidelines on the cheek. "Hi there, darling. Would you like to dance?" he asked sweetly.

The man reddened slightly at the kiss but agreed quickly to a song, and Asmo found himself soon in another round of dancing, whirling between partners until he had probably danced with each person at least three times. Mid-step as he was about to pass to Naamah again, he noticed a figure moving quickly by from across the road.

A very familiar figure.

"Ack, I'm sorry - I've got to go," he said quickly, leaving his companion very confused as he dashed off from her and the rest of the party.

"Lilith!" he called out, chasing after her in the now-fallen night.

His sister startled at the sound of his voice. "Asmo? What are you doing here in the human realm?"

"You know, really I should be the one asking you that, sis!" he responded, patting her on the head as he caught up. "Mammon sent me here to find you and the twins. Although I, hehe, might have gotten a bit distracted on my way to find you after I sent the twins back. Okay, your turn, what were you doing here?"

She looked away shyly. "I was just, um...meeting someone."

"Ooooh? Tell your big brother more," he teased.

"Well, um...a-actually, Asmo, you love everyone, right? But how do you know you're in love with them?"

That certainly caught him off-guard.

"Hmmm? I never really thought about it," he mused. "I guess it feels kind of warm and fuzzy, right? Or...sometimes it's stronger. Like fire! Like your whole body is in flames, and you're going to burst apart in one biiiig explosion!" Teasingly, he grabbed her by the shoulders and mimicked some explosion sounds. "Why, my dear sister, have you fallen in love with somebody? Were you down here to ask the humans for loooove advice? Who is it, hon? Uriel? Israfil?? Camael?? Or - don't tell me it's Michael?!"

"N-no!" she said, eyes wide. "Ahh, no! No, it's not like that! And don't tell Lucifer or Mammon that I asked about this either!"

Her older brother just giggled mischievously in reply. "Well, let's just get back," he answered, placing his hand on the tree by where he'd landed earlier to open the portal back up.

When they stepped through, their two eldest brothers were waiting for them with scowls.

Lucifer spoke first. "Where have you two been, exactly?"

"Eep! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stay out so late!!" Lilith squeaked, quickly hiding behind her other brother. "I just, um--I just wanted to go meet with someone. And I lost track of time."

"What about you? Don't tell me ya got distracted hitting on people again," Mammon said, turning his attention to the other just-returned angel. "I've been havin' to cover for ya all day! Raphael is not happy."

"Hey, you're the one who sent me down there to find the twins!" Asmo argued back.

"Yeah, and they came back ages ago! So where have you been!"

"Well, one of the acrobats from Belphie's circus invited me to a party, so I--"

"A party?" Lucifer growled. "You were out late for a human party?"

"I mean...! I didn't know where to find Lilith or when she'd be done meeting her person, so I just thought I'd have some fun while I was down there," Asmo pouted.

"You still shouldn't be going to human world parties, Asmo," the eldest lectured, refocusing his gaze on their sister. "And as for you, about that person you went to meet...why are you meeting with a human?"

She just looked away.

Lucifer sighed. "Never mind, we'll talk later, Lilith. Just go back to your rooms for now, it's late and the next patrols will be by soon. You're lucky Mammon was the one on duty tonight and reported it straight to me so the other seraphs don't know yet."

With relief, the two of them scurried away back to their respective living quarters.

Back in his room, Asmodeus looked over the sketch of himself he'd been working on earlier that day. After the excitement of the day and the party, it looked so bland now that he looked at it again. It was perfectly in line with the classic portrait style of paintings all over the Celestial Realm, but it felt so flat. He saw the good in everyone, right?

And the best thing about him wasn't his face, or his hair, or the way the sunlight fell perfectly across his face at noon. No, the good thing about him was how he loved everyone, wasn it? The love that filled him to bursting at every moment, the love that felt like heavenly fire coursing through his heart every time he looked at someone. That was what made him the universally admired angel that everybody loved back. This painting needed to show that overflowing love too, didn't it?

He tore the canvas off, stretching a fresh one across the frame to start again.

&

When Lucifer came to the brothers to say he was going to rebel against their father, Asmodeus didn't hesitate. All of them had heard about what Lilith had done, and how she was set to be punished for it with obliteration. Utter destruction, wiping her from existence. And for what? For her love?

Well, Asmo was intimately familiar with getting in trouble over love. He'd certainly felt the sharp end of Raphael's spear enough times to know that love was not especially prized or respected in the Celestial Realm. Their father had created him with this overwhelming burning of love towards all, yet that same father commanded the angels without regard for love. It was his rules that forbade Asmo from having outlets to express his love, and it was those same rules that would now destroy his sister.

Lucifer had already tried arguing for mercy, to no avail. It didn't matter if it was out of love; all the worse, in fact, because Lilith wasn't supposed to have gone down to the human realm in the first place, let alone fallen in love with one of them. Their father didn't care about love. So, Lucifer would fight.

And so would Asmodeus.

The Ecstasy

When he came to, the first thing Asmo felt was weightlessness.

It wasn't just his clothes, which had transformed from a billowing mass of white robes to a slender, form-fitting black tank top and pants. Nor was it how his large, elegant wings were now turning to four smaller, curled bat-like ones.

No, it was the lack of burning fire in his chest. What normally felt tightly contained within him was looser, freer, like something had unlocked inside of him, allowing it to spill out.

It was such a jarring, unfamiliar feeling that he gasped out for air.

"Asmo!! Beel, Belphie! Levi! Are you all okay?!" Mammon called out at the sound, rushing over. He had landed not too far away, and seemed to have undergone his own transformation, his usual softly draping outfit now full of sharp, cutting lines instead. In fact, it looked like everyone had either changed or was mid-transformation.

"Where's Lilith?" Beelzebub asked immediately, sounding panicked. "She got hit by an arrow earlier and fell during the battle, is she here?! Is she okay?!"

Belphie sat up and looked around before shaking his head. "I don't think she's here," he said softly. "What happened?"

"Mmm, well judging by how we all look, I guess we're...demons now?" Asmo chimed in.

"Aaagh, dammit! I saw Lucifer fly down all of a sudden while we were fightin', but I don't see him here either. He's gotta be around here somewhere though," Mammon said. "C'mon, get up, guys. Levi, you okay over there?"

A pitiful mumble of affirmation came from the cerulean-haired lump. Levi had awoken but, it seemed, simply opted to stay laying on the ground, as if laying there would erase away everything that had just happened.

After a quick check over each of them, Mammon seemed satisfied that there were no major injuries, at least. Aside from, obviously, them all having lost their angel forms, and seemingly having transformed into demons here. Which meant...

"Welcome to the Devildom." A demon in a crisp black and red uniform walked up to them with a polite smile. "Lord Diavolo has requested for all of Lucifer's brothers to come to the RAD student council room at once. Of course, Lucifer himself is there as well."

Ignoring the confused chatter of the brothers, he led them to a grand building, through beautifully sculpted hallways, and into a large courtroom-like chamber.

A large, dark-skinned demon in what looked to be a red school uniform was seated at the judge's seat, and beside him...Lucifer, in a similar uniform as the man who had led them here, as well as a scary-looking blond individual they didn't recognize.

Five piles of cleanly folded uniforms sat on a table in the center of the room.

In what felt like a whirlwind of explanation, the demon at the center introduced himself as Lord Diavolo, confirmed that they were indeed demons now, and explained that, as the demon prince and current ruler of the Devildom, they were now part of his domain. This was RAD, a school for demons, and the demon who had led them here was Barbatos, his personal butler. His father, who had passed the reigns of power but still commanded more respect among the nobles, would help work out the details of their new positions here in the Devildom, but he wanted to welcome them as members of the RAD student council.

It was a lot, but most importantly, they would stay together down here. They would live together, with Lucifer working out the details of their new home, and they would attend this school. Apart from this, they would be eventually assigned other responsibilities, but they would be otherwise free to enjoy the Devildom as they pleased.

As they pleased. Asmodeus wasn't sure what this all meant for them, but he liked the sound of that phrase.

--

Asmo sighed happily, gazing at himself in his vanity mirror. He looked perfect. His outfit was perfect, with pearly flower earrings perfectly matching the flowery sleeves of his shirt.

After they fell, Mammon had worried and fussed over everyone - not that he would ever admit it outright. Still, the worry had been unmistakable, checking in on each brother every day to make sure they were adjusting okay. But for Asmodeus, things were more than okay. It was like a blindfold had been removed from his eyes.

When he looked at himself now, he understood why everyone had always fawned over his looks - he was gorgeous! How had he never seen it before? He was dazzlingly beautiful. No wonder they had called him the Jewel of the Heavens! And though he was no longer part of, well, heaven, he was still the most stunning being to exist, in all the three realms.

That being the case, it was only right to share himself with everyone, right? Everyone had always wanted to gaze upon him, and at last, with the chains of celestial modesty shed from him, he understood that it was his responsibility to share this gift of his beauty with all.

"I'm heading out!" he called out to his brothers in the common room as he skipped out of the house with excitement. By this point, he'd been to tons of parties, but the joy of it never really wore off. The energy, the dancing, the drinks, the new people, and most importantly? Getting to do whatever the hell he wanted.

The pumping music and the flashing lights of the club greeted him as he threw open the doors. "Who's ready for an Asmo party?! Your Avatar of Lust has arrived!" he cheered.

Everyone in the club went wild immediately, as they always did for these. A night of partying, hosted by the Avatar of Lust, filled with dancing and drinks, and inevitably ending in a wild orgy at some nearby hotel room with as many bodies as could be crammed in? The demons at the club always went wild for an event like that.

Cambores, his good friend, came up immediately to give him a kiss on the cheek and pass him a drink. "Asmo, baby, we've been waiting for you! There's a whole line of succubi who have been begging for a dance with you tonight!"

"Only a dance?" he giggled impishly, as he waved to the line his friend pointed out. "Well, they do have to take turns, since a beauty like mine has to be shared with everyone. But we'll have to see if any of them can tear themselves off of me after a dance!"

Wasting no time, he grabbed the hand of the first one and whirled her onto the floor. "Bothothêl, you're back for me again tonight," he teased. "Didn't get enough of me last night?"

"No, never, Lord Asmodeus," she responded, gazing adoringly into his eyes. She shimmied against him, pressing herself close against his body, and he responded in kind. "I want you every night if you'll allow it."

"Well, I'm flattered, my dear," he answered in a sultry whisper against her collarbone, "but I'm afraid you can't hog beauty like this. But maybe next time I eat you out, I'll eat your heart along with it so I can carry you with me, if you want to stay beside me so badly." He felt the lust emanating from her at that, and took the opportunity to give her a little nibble against her neck, before twirling her away to pull forth the next two succubi from the line at once.

By the tenth or eleventh song, he was about ready for another drink - and some actual action, rather than the intimate but very short flirts he was having with his dance partners. "Sarabocres, darling," he greeted the bartender cheerfully. "Can I get a Brimstone Kiss? And...a Death Tequila Sunset for this new friend of mine right here," he added, tugging over a random demon who had caught his eye from further down the bar.

"O-oh, um, Lord Asmodeus! T-thank you," the demon sputtered in surprise.

"You're welcome," he smiled sweetly back. "So you know my name, what's yours?"

"Kamusil, sir," she answered. Her eyes sparkled as she took him in, though she quickly scooted back and looked away. "Wow. You're even more beautiful than everyone says."

Smirking, he placed a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze back up to meet his. "Well, no one can accurately describe perfection, after all. But no need to be shy, cutie, you can drop the sir and all those formalities. Tell me, what kinds of secret desires are you hiding? If you could have, hmm...let's say, ten demons here in your bed tonight, who would they be?"

As if in a trance, any hesitation in her dropped away immediately. She pointed out various demons to him, some he recognized and some he didn't, all of them drop-dead gorgeous.

A mischievous smile spread across his face. He gave her a quick smooch, and whispered, "Okay, wait for me just a bit then, and don't you leave before me. Okaaay? We'll have a good time tonight, I promise."

With that, he downed his newly arrived drink and returned to join the throngs of dancers.

--

What a fun plaything she'd been, truly. Despite having been so shy, Kamusil had really had a knack for spying some of the wildest partners he'd been with in quite a while. He lay idly in the bed, tracing the sleeping form of one of the many sexed out demons beside him.

It would be an exaggeration to say they'd all explored pleasures together he'd never dreamed of - he was the Avatar of Lust, after all - but certainly there were some obscure things he got to try out that night. And there was always tomorrow, or the next night, or the next.

After all, there was nothing stopping him anymore. No shame, no modesty, none of the rules binding him. He could do whatever the hell he wanted.

And he loved it.

[spideyspeaches]

Dead man walking -> s.h

A/N: I'm in my Sherlock mood so here you go besties 😃 beta read by @peterbenjiparker 😘

Summary (request from anon): hi bestie, heard you were horny for sherlock, and honestly, same. So could i request maybe after he "dies" first thing he does is actually going to see you, so you have some really sweet sex or angry sex cause reader is angry at him for lying to her.

Warnings: bestie I ended up making it all fluff-, um mentions of suicide/death. Y'know.

Wc: 1.1k

Masterlist

"You're angry." Was the first thing he said, looking at you with a tiny smile, his face bent down as he met your eyes through his lashes. 

You were standing in his apartment- 221B Bakers Street, as he liked to introduce to everyone he met, mouth gaping and hands folded over your grocery bags as you saw your very alive boyfriend standing in front of you, the collar of his trenchcoat upturned, front button undone in his trademarked style, one that you had always commented on that his buttons were just begging to be popped.

You were coming back home from grocery shopping, going by your normal work schedule from before Sherlock had thrown himself off of a building, trying not to think of his corpse you had seen in the morgue. It was a tough feat to do, when you remembered that the Sherlock standing in front of you was very real and not just a figment of your worst imagination.

The day had been a horrible day for you, and you had by the grace of one Molly Hooper, survived the guilt of living while your boyfriend, the one person in the world that meant the most to you was dead. 

And now here you were, standing in front of your not dead boyfriend, who was looking increasingly smug by the minute as he saw your foot tapping angrily on the ground. 

"Is that so? And how did you "deduce" that, Mr. Holmes?" You snark, folding your hands beneath your chest as you tried to look as intimidating as possible.

Truth was, you were fuming. It had been two years since the insanity that was Sherlock's death, two years since you got yourself caught in the scandal of his death, two years since you watched John Watson, the strongest man you've ever met, crumble underneath the weight of his best friend's death. 

You had tried to get over him, even helped John in finding his lovely partner. Mary was a lovely woman, she was everything you wanted to be, but deep down you know you could never be. You were grateful for her to have entered your and John's life, you didn't know how long you could take John's pitiful puppy face every time he looked at the skull on the mantelpiece, or even the sofa that had the indents of Sherlock. 

Everything in 221B Bakers Street reeked of the detective, even when he was gone. And it got crippling at times, but you had survived then.

Two years may not seem much to a mundane human, but Sherlock was anything but mundane. He was the most insufferable man you'd ever had the pleasure to come in contact with. But two years meant twenty four months and those were, no doubt, the most excruciating twenty four months of your life.

"You're doing the thing.. the thing with your eyebrow where they go all," he muttered, his voice lowering an octave as he did some weird gesture with his hands, stopping when he saw your glare, "sorry." 

"Sorry? Oh you'll be sorry Sherlock Holmes, when I give you a piece of your mind for hiding this from me!" You shout, walking towards him till you were chest to chest with him, your breath heaving due to your aggressive stance. 

You felt him stiffen in front of you, his pupils visibly dilating against his stunning blue irises, breath hot on your face as his hands come to caress your waist.

"Well what else do you want me to say?" He asks, bringing you closer to him. His apartment was empty, Mrs. Hudson had left the minute she had stopped to kiss Sherlock's face and then proceeded to slap him, giving him a piece of his mind from her own side.

You had always found their relationship endearing, but you were trying not to divert your mind with stupid things and you were fuming at Sherlock Holmes for faking his fucking death!

"Why didn't you tell me." You said, gulping as he touched your face, his slender fingers pushing back stray hair from your face, caressing the place underneath your eyes.

Sometime between glaring at him and holding your grocery bags, you had moved into the small room, still littered with rotten science experiments and robes that were hardly washed by their owner.

"And get you involved in dangerous business?" He answered, giving you a small smile, his dimple making a rare appearance.

"I live with Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson, I think just existing in this apartment puts me in danger." You huffed, moving away from him and flopping down on the couch. 

Pushing your legs towards your chest, you wrap your arms around them, looking at him through the wisps of your hair.

"Speaking of him, have you told John yet?" You asked, rolling your head towards him as he nodded a no.

"No you're the only one who knows," he said, shifting on his legs, "and Mrs. Hudson, of course." 

"Makes sense," you nodded, shifting on the sofa, "cause if I were John Watson then I'd punch your stupid face off." You joked, hiding a smirk behind your legs.

"Oh he totally would." He laughed, meeting your eyes as you joined in his laughter, the heavy feeling in your chest dissipating as your ears filled with the melody of his laughter. 

It felt familiar, sitting on the couch as you both laughed, just like the old days when he'd come to you with a case, rambling your ears off at the possibilities of the way the burglar would have entered a ten feet high window. 

Getting up from the sofa, you walked towards him, standing in front of him and sighing as you wrapped your arms around him, squishing your face to his chest, feeling the familiar thumping of his heart as he hesitantly wrapped you in a hug. 

Contrary to popular belief, Sherlock Holmes did not have a heart made of ice. He may not be the most affectionate person you've ever met, but he had his own ways of showing his love.

But this blatant display of affection startled you, sniffing as you picked your head up from his lean chest, looking at his sparkling eyes and the way his curls fell on his forehead. It took everything in you to not to kiss him, a lump of emotions taking residence in your throat, forbidding you from taking a deep breath. 

"I'm here now." He said, rubbing your back lightly as you sniffed, chuckling with a watery smile as you slapped his chest, him joining in your laughter.

"How long?" You cracked, wiping a hand under your nose, "How long are you gonna stay?" 

"I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." He said, taking your face in his fingers, swiping them on your lips as you wet them with your tongue.

"Promise?" You whispered, leaning on your toes to meet his mouth. 

"I promise." He said, capturing your lips in his, and you felt like yourself again. After two years of tears and yearning for the most important man in your life, you felt like you could breathe again.

[niffala]

It Happens

Pairing: Dennis Baker / OFC (Bailey)

Summary: Dennis has never had much luck in his worthless life. Sleepwalking through his miserable days and lonely nights… until he met her.

Warnings: smut, misunderstandings, dating, dumb choices, fluff, angst, talks of divorce and cheating, Dennis being Dennis

A/N: Reader insert version found here. 18+ only due to smut. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Main Masterlist

Staring morosely into the mirror, the brunette straightened his glasses. Hair combed, beard trimmed, clean polo and khakis, he looked ready for work, even though he lost his job six months ago. Same time his wife left him for another man and sent him the divorce papers. At least it meant it was quiet, Gina wasn't yelling at him constantly. Reminding him what a pathetic failure he was and how repulsive she found him. 

His eyes flickered down to his left hand, debating if he should take the ring off. It’s not like she was coming back. He reached for it but hesitated once his fingertips met gold. He couldn't do it… He should do it… He shouldn’t... He needed to. Well, if nothing else, he was good at giving up. The man slipped the band off his finger and sighed. Resolved to live the rest of his miserable life alone. Rock bottom, meet Dennis.

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

Bypassing his former place of employment, Dennis headed straight to 'Back to The Grind' coffee kiosk. Standing awkwardly to the side of the queue, avoiding eye contact with the other customers, he awaited the arrival of his coffee buddy, Bailey. For the past two years, Monday through Friday, they would meet here in the pursuit of caffeine and conversation. Sometimes she had to run, but mostly they’d sit and chat until their cups were empty. Dennis enjoyed her company so much he kept showing up day after day, long after he no longer worked around there. It was all he had, all he lived for anymore. Just those few precious minutes of human connection.

Dennis checked his watch, 7:37 a.m., she was running late. Joining the line, he ordered for both of them, then sat at one of the nearby benches to wait. Ten more minutes went by with no sign of Bailey. You're a loser Dennis, she's not coming. With a defeated exhale, he stared at the sidewalk and took a large angry bite of his donut.

“Hey coffee buddy.”

Shit, she was here. Dennis looked up at her beautiful face, his eyes as big as saucers. Swallowing the large bite, he coughed out a greeting.

Bailey smiled at him. “I see you started without me.” She gestured to the corner of his mouth, “You have a little…” 

Dennis wiped his face on his arm. “Thanks.” He handed her a cup and a wrapped pastry. “I got your usual, medium caramel iced coffee. They were out of croissants though, so I ordered you a blueberry danish.” 

“Oh no,” she frowned, “blueberries and I do not agree.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I messed up your breakfast. I should have asked, I’m so stupid.” Dennis became visibly upset and continued to over apologize. Promising to get her something else and refusing to finish his donut. 

“It's ok, D, really. It’s not a big deal.”

He buried his face in his hands, “I suck, I'm sorry.” 

“Well I think you're pretty great, Dennis.” She smiled at him again, even though he couldn’t see it. “Hey, seeing as neither of us are having breakfast, how about an early lunch? Are you free?”

Dennis’ head whipped up, “For lunch? You want to have lunch with me?”

“Yeah.” Bailey checked the time on her phone, “Shit! I got to go, but can you meet me here at eleven? We can walk up the street to Charley’s, their food is awesome. Real burgers, not the microwave crap I know you favor.” 

Dennis nodded, “I’d love to.” Saying their goodbyes, he watched Bailey rush off to work. He knew she must see him as a charity case. Who wouldn’t. He was broken and worthless and felt bad for wasting her time everyday. It was selfish of him. Still, he could feel butterflies flapping in his belly, knowing he’d get to spend more time with her. Having nothing else to do, he sat in his car and waited.

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

Bailey slid into the booth, staring eagerly at the man across from her. Eyes tracking his hands as he picked up his food and took a bite. Smirking as his eyes practically rolled into his head, “Good huh?”

“So good,” he groaned out before continuing to chomp on his burger. 

Chuckling, she began eating her own meal. “So how have you been, D? What ya been up to?”

Dennis shrugged, not wanting the conversation focused on him. “Not much… not anything really.” Making the mistake of looking at her expectant face, he found himself blurting out the things he tried to hide from her. “It’s true though, I wasted my entire life. Nothing to show for my 37 pointless years of existence. No job, no kids, no wife. I’m a big fat nothing.” He closed his eyes, waiting for the blowback of his confession. Startled when a soft hand enclosed his, giving a gentle squeeze. 

“I'm sorry. I had no idea.”

She sounded so sincere, Dennis couldn’t process it. “It’s okay. It’s, uh, been a few months now.” 

Bailey regretted bringing it up, but couldn’t help how her interest peaked. Her coffee buddy had never talked about himself this much. She wanted him to open up more. “How long were you guys married?” 

Taking a deep breath, he spilled his soul. If she wasn’t laughing before, she would now. “Sixteen very long years… haven’t had sex in the last seven. Not that we did it often before that.”

Her eyebrows shot up, “Wait, you and your wife haven’t had sex in seven years.”

“Well… I haven't,” he let the rest of his words die on his tongue.

“Ohhhhhhh,” Bailey cringed, “Sorry I brought it up.”

“That's alright. It wasn’t much of a marriage. I think she was faithful for maybe the first three years. That or I was too in love to notice. After our 10th anniversary she didn’t even bother hiding it. Spent our special day in someone else’s bed and facetimed me.”

“What a bitch. You didn't deserve to be treated like that, Dennis.” She rubbed his hand before going back to eating. After a few minutes, a thought occurred to her. “I know it’s not my place, but I think you should take this as an opportunity to start over. Find a new job, new girlfriend. I could help you, if you want.”

Even the thought of trying depressed him. “I don’t think anyone out there will hire me, or date me for that matter.”

Bailey tilted her head, “Love the enthusiasm.” She took a sip of her water before continuing, “I think you’re a catch, D. You just need some practice. You’ll get your life back on track in no time.” Dennis could only offer half a smile. “Okay, first up, a place to work. I know your old job was in sales, but you never told me what you sold.”

His voice lowered as he admitted it was the sale and rental of porta potties. He worked there for 15 years and hated every moment of it. 

“So something not involving toilets, then. There are lots of different types of sales jobs.”

Dennis shook his head, “Nobody wants to buy anything from me, not even shitters.”

She nodded, “No sales, got it. Umm, my department is hiring, logistics for big rigs.” 

“Maybe. I’d hate to invade your space though.” With a weary sigh, Dennis finished the last bite of his delicious burger. 

“Hmm,” she pondered over any positions that would suit him. “Oh hey, I know of an opening at a warehouse? Does something like that interest you?” 

“Maybe.”

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

No one was more surprised than Dennis when he landed the warehouse gig. He took to it like a duck to water. His strength and organization skills put to good use. Memorizing where everything went on his first day. His coworkers were friendly and his manager was fair. He actually looked forward to going into work. But mostly, he loved continuing to have his daily coffee with Bailey.  

They were hanging out more often now, not just for coffee or lunch. Calling and texting at all hours, seeing each other after work and on the weekends. He talked to her about everything, and she to him, even gave him tips for reentering the dating pool. He wasn’t sad or lonely with her around. He forgot what that felt like. 

Dennis was familiar with the term touch starved, and oh, how it fit him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone touched him on purpose. His wife hadn't let him near her in years, recoiled at his every attempt to show affection. But Bailey touched him willingly, openly, without reservations. He was undeserving of it, he knew, but he craved it so. Every hug, every handhold, every fistbump, he wanted it all from her. 

Dennis was currently pacing through his kitchen. Bailey was on her way over to celebrate his divorce being finalized. She cheered that he was finally free from Gina’s horrible treatment and was better off without her abusive, cheating ass. He could feel the flop sweat start. Taking a paper towel, he began wiping his face and armpits. Just as he was wondering if he had time to shower, the bell rang.

When he opened the door, he was greeted with Bailey’s charming smile, her arms full with his favorite beer and chips. Helping her set her load on the kitchen island, he watched her grab two bottles, twisting off both tops, handing him one.

“Congrats on the permanent dissolvement of that bitch’s claws from your life.” She clinked her beer with his. Both of them took long pulls of their drink. Bailey looked him up and down, tsking at his stiff attire. “You aren’t really dressed for movie watching. Why don’t you go change into comfy clothes, I’ll set up the movie.” 

A few minutes later, Dennis walked into the living room wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, “I feel naked.”

“Well I think you look great. Although I’m sure you’d look just as good actually naked.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

His whole face turned bright red. It was just a joke, he told himself. She couldn’t possibly be flirting with him. He sat down on the couch next to her. Popping a chip into his mouth before turning his attention to the television. Oh no, she picked a horror movie. Dennis did not do well with scary movies. He was going to make a fool of himself. 

Rubbing his hands on his pants, his leg muscles painfully tight, Dennis did his best to put on a brave face. It lasted all of 20 minutes. The first jump scare had him releasing a blood curdling scream. Completely flushed, his chips thrown everywhere, any shred of dignity he feigned now gone. He was mortified.

Bailey stared at him with wide eyes, her hand over her heart. “You scared the crap out of me,” she roared before breaking into a fit of laughter. “Didn’t know there’d be 4D effects. Way to give me a heart attack.” 

Wordlessly, Dennis fell to his knees and began cleaning up the mess. Waiting for a scolding that never came. He declined her offer to help him. He was just grateful she found the situation amusing. She was so forgiving of him. Once finished, he sat back with his feet perched on the coffee table. 

“You sure you’re okay, D?” Seeing as how he only nodded in affirmation, Bailey decided he needed some comfort. As the movie continued, she cuddled up to his side, her feet leaning on his. Her white socks with black stripes next to his black socks with white dots. She began rubbing her feet on his, “Guess opposites really do attract.”  

Dennis couldn’t take his eyes off the game of footsie. Feeling brave, he put his arm around Bailey’s shoulder. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, her arm resting on his chest, sending his heart rate into overdrive. Dennis was a cuddler, but couldn't recall the last time he was with somebody like this without being shoved away. He felt comfortable, content. The movie was forgotten as her hand slipped inside his shirt, her fingers combing his dark chest hair. Gina always made him wax, it hurt, he hated it. 

Looking down at his coffee buddy, he met her gaze with a fond smile. To his surprise, she leaned up and kissed him. He felt his brain short circuit as Bailey’s soft cherry flavored lips glided with his chapped ones. She slowly pulled away, leaving him with closed eyes and puckered lips. 

“Do you think you’re ready to start dating? We can go someplace fancy, really wine and dine it.”

“Definitely.” Oh yes, Dennis was looking forward to this practice date.

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

Dennis' stomach growled as he loaded his prizes into the freezer. He’d never won anything before, but scored big at the meat raffle with Bailey. His freezer was stuffed with burgers, steaks, pork chops, ribs, lobster tail, and the fridge stocked with his favorite beer. He made changes around the home as well. Threw out the million stupid throw pillows that Gina insisted they needed. Replaced the furniture he disliked, bought a giant beanbag simply because he’d always wanted one. Rearranged the rooms how he preferred, did anything he desired to make his house his. Anything of his ex-wife's left behind got put into a box and thrown in the basement. 

The raffle was his second fake date with Bailey. Dennis was appreciative of her help and that she gave him a second chance. Their first date started out a disaster. He was so nervous he spilled wine all over her dress before their food arrived. She ran to the ladies room as the waiters cleaned the table. Dennis was inconsolable for those few minutes, certain Bailey would never want to see him again. He was shocked when she sat back down like nothing happened, only the deep red stain as a reminder. He thought he was in the clear, until he ended up choking on his dinner. The heimlich wasn’t needed, but the gagging and panicked noises he made trying to dislodge the food had the unwanted attention of the other patrons on them for a second time. It was decided it was best to skip dessert. 

After embarrassing her twice, Dennis was sure that was the end of the practice dates. Bailey didn't want to go home though. They drove to an arcade where they binged on candy and she whooped him at every game they tried. Hopped up on sugar, they ended the night making out in the car like teenagers. Dennis was having fun for the first time in his adult life. Beyond thankful for her assistance and attention, he cherished every word and every kiss, wishing with all his might that it was real. 

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

“Woooo,” the enthusiastic couple practically kicked in the door to her apartment. Hooting and guffawing as they verbally replayed the events of the wrestling match they returned from. Bantering back and forth, “Your guy totally cheated.” “Nuh-uh.” “Mmhm.” “You’re crazy, you’re out of your mind. It was a fair fight.” “Cheater cheater pumpkin eater and I hate to tell ya, you are guilty by association.” 

Cheeks hurting from all the laughter, holding onto each other for balance, Bailey felt the air shift. She began running her hand over his arm and onto his chest. “So D, it’s your first time at your girlfriend's place. What shall we do, hmm?”

Even though Dennis knew she was only pretending when she called herself his girlfriend, he loved hearing her say it. He decided to knock her socks off by grabbing her face and kissing her with a passion that even surprised himself. Bailey responded in kind, opening her mouth, allowing him to explore. She tasted like cherries, ale and heaven. 

Bailey broke the kiss, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into the bedroom. “Ready to wrestle?” She bit her lip seductively and began to strip off her clothes. Dennis was hypnotized watching more and more flesh be revealed to him. He’d fantasized about this so many times, but never imagined it would happen. When she stood before him naked, he gulped, she was gorgeous. He couldn’t get his shirt, socks and pants off fast enough, but then he hesitated, deciding to keep his underwear on. 

She yelped as he lifted her up a little too aggressively. “D, I swear to god if you actually bodyslam me…” 

Dennis froze and gently set her down on her bed. “No! I- I’m sorry. I was trying to be sexy.”

“You're very sexy, Dennis.” She pressed her lips to his and tugged at the waistband of his white briefs, “Join me up here.”

As he climbed on the bed, he asked her to lie down. ”I want to worship you.” When she acquiesced, his heated gaze roamed her body. Fingers danced along her skin, marveling at all the places he wanted to touch, wanted to kiss. Like a siren’s call, her hardened nipples drew him in. Swirling his tongue around her peak, he sucked it into his mouth. Making a wet pop as he released it. Massaging the breast, and checking Bailey’s face to confirm her enjoyment, he continued licking, sucking and fondling her left side.

The heat of Dennis’ mouth made her other breast feel cold and lonely, it wanted attention too. She quietly mentioned to him that the other one was getting jealous. Dennis, embarrassed by his blunder, repeated his actions on the right boob before beginning to kiss down her body. He had to do this right. It had to be good for her. Shit, his hands were too clammy, his body was too sweaty. She was going to push him away, she was going to laugh at him. Dennis began second guessing himself, too afraid of making the wrong move, he rested his head on her stomach. 

After a minute of no movement, Bailey ran her fingers through his hair. “You okay?” Troubled by his silence, she continued trying to sooth him, “Where’s your head at, D?” 

He expected to get scolded. His mind playing through the times with his ex. She would yell at him if he wasn't doing something right, or didn’t get hard fast enough. Telling him he couldn’t make her cum with an instruction manual stapled to his head. Taking a deep shuddering breath, he braved a look at Bailey. “I just… I want to do this right.” 

She smiled so sweetly, “We got all night.”

Encouraged, he picked up where he left off. As he kissed down her leg, he remembered his prior error and copied what he did to the other side. Reaching her core, he closed his eyes, nuzzling her thigh with his cheek before flattening his tongue, giving her entire womanhood a big fat lick. Grinning to himself at her surprised squeak, he turned his head to kiss at her other thigh before licking his lips and burying his face in her cunt.

It was as if he was possessed by someone with far more confidence than he. Dennis became an animal, sucking and licking her folds, eating her from the outside in. His tongue roamed over her, up and down and side to side, making frequent stops to circle her clit. She made the sweetest noises for him, mewling and moaning as she writhed in his hold. She had a firm grip on his hair, gently guiding him where she needed him to be.

Dennis was open to instruction, so he let her move him as she pleased. The taste of her sweet honey working him up so much he rutted against the bed. His hands trailed up her torso to cup her breasts, before one slid back down to play with her soaked entrance. He inserted a finger, realizing she was more than ready, he added another. Pumping his fingers in tantum with his licks, he could feel her tremble.

“Oh fuck, oh god,” Bailey cried out as she climaxed around his skillful digits. 

Drunk off the greatest praise, her orgasm, Dennis looked up from between her legs, a dopey grin plastered on his face. He eagerly asked if he could do it again.

Bailey looked down at him through hooded eyes, “Ya, go for it.”

It wasn’t long until her legs were shaking again, Dennis held her hips down, not stopping until she spasmed and screamed in ecstasy. He was proud of himself. “Holy shit, that worked.” Out of breath, heart pounding, she told him that was incredible, especially whatever he did at the end. Blushing ear to ear, Dennis admitted that he spelled his name with his tongue. Chuckling, he asks her to guess what he spelled next. Diving back down he traced his message.

“Umm, peace out? 

He shook his head, “It was thank you.” 

“I should be the one thanking you.” She wiggled out of his grasp and took a condom out of her nightstand. “But, hey, the night’s not over yet.” She handed the packet to a terrified Dennis. He looked like he was going to pass out, and wouldn't meet her eyes. “Do you not want to?” She’d be lying to say her feelings wouldn’t be hurt if he said no.

Head down, rubbing the back of his neck, Dennis mumbled his secret, “I have a bad penis.” 

“A bad… um, does that mean ED or like performance anxiety?” Bailey had to know if this was something they could work around.

“I'm.. I’m not sure. It just doesn't work like it’s supposed to.” 

“Do you have any problems on your own?'' He shook his head no. Bailey caressed her boyfriend’s nervous face. “Maybe there isn’t a problem.” She waited until he looked at her. “No pressure here, but I'd like to try if you do. If it goes wrong, we can just try again.” 

Why was she so patient with him? He didn’t deserve her friendship. He didn’t deserve her at all. Dennis took his briefs off, kneeling on the bed, bare to her and awaiting judgment.

“Damn Dennis. Wow, that, I mean, it looks like a good dick to me.” She watched him with unbridled desire, wrapping her hand around his length, ducking down to lick the swollen head. “Thick and veiny and standing proud. I don't know if my mouth or my pussy want it more.” 

Her compliments spurred him on. Dennis removed her hand, pushing her back on the bed. Crawling over her, he stroked himself twice before rolling the condom on. He was terrified of disappointing her and it must have shown on his face because she pulled him down for a reassuring kiss, “Don’t overthink it, just be here with me. I want you to fuck me, Dennis.”

He lined himself up and kissed her once more before slowly entering her. Already breathing heavy, he barely had control of himself when he bottomed out. “I can’t believe I’m inside you.” Bailey giggled and told him how good he felt, begging him to move. Closing his eyes in concentration, Dennis pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in with a groan. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.” 

Dennis snapped his hips as she rolled hers to meet each thrust. It didn’t take long to find a rhythm that suited them. Sweat dripped down their bodies as they chased their carnal highs. The sounds of skin on skin and their moans filled the room. The tension in her stomach unbearable, Bailey opened her legs wider, angling them up so he could go deeper. His cock hitting all the right spots. It was all it took for her to cum a third time.

Feeling her walls fluttering and gripping him hard as she came, had Dennis at his end. When he told her he was close, she asked him to come on her tits. Hissing as he pulled out, Dennis straddled Bailey’s chest, pulling off the condom just before he released. He made sure every drop landed on her breasts before collapsing next to her.

After a few minutes of catching their breaths, Bailey giggled, “I got some d from D.” Finding her joke hilarious, she continued laughing.

“Was it good?”

“It was great.” She kissed him, “See, there’s nothing wrong with you.” She pecked his lips again, “Promise.” Holding her chest as she rose to keep his cum from running down her, she walked to the bathroom to clean up. 

Dennis stretched and hummed, allowing himself to be happy at a job well done. He could satisfy a woman after all. When she returned, Dennis was almost redressed. 

“You can stay, if you want to.”

“Stay?” He desperately wanted to, but couldn't believe she wanted him to.

Bailey walked over, carefully taking his glasses off his face and setting them on her nightstand, “Please.”

Dennis removed the clothing he put on and followed her into bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he shared a bed with someone, Gina banished him to the guestroom five years ago. Look at him now, a beautiful woman in his arms that actually wanted him to be there. Him and Bailey shared a few more kisses as they cuddled and talked. Determining his issue was due to stress and his marital problems. He could have confidence going forward. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off Bailey as she slept. His best friend, his only friend, his lover. Dennis didn't know it could be like this, he wished so badly that it was real. What a beautiful life they would have together. They'd be happy, she made him happy. He didn't think it was possible to feel good anymore, but here he was practically jumping for joy. There was no doubt in his mind that he was in love with her. He'd go down on her every night, expecting nothing in return, if it meant he could stay with her forever. If only it were possible. Instead he would take these pretend moments and commit them to his memory forever. A shining light in his bleak life.

Morning arrived too fast. Dennis yawned, wrenching his eyes and started to get out of bed. “I can make us breakfast.”

Bailey grabbed his arm, pulling him back to her. “Orrrrr, how about I order some eggs benny and we can spend longer in bed.”

“You’re brilliant.”

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

“What does a fish say when it runs into a brick wall?”

 “I don’t know, what?”

Dennis slapped his hand on the table, “Dam!”  He threw his head back, braying and wheezing.

Bailey snorted at the bad joke, smiling at how his face lit up with the punchline. Their fish frys were huge, so her boyfriend had been making awful puns and one-liners all night. She threw her lemon at him, which he promptly caught and ate without breaking his cocky grin. He was turning into quite the cheeky bastard. 

The shrill of his phone interrupted the merriment. His ex-wife’s name flashing on the screen. Rolling his eyes, Dennis declined the call, only for her to call back. He ignored her again to no avail, his phone continued going off. She clearly wasn't getting the hint. Huffing, he answered. 

All Bailey could hear was non stop shouting, poor Dennis not even getting a word in. He grew paler, biting the inside of his cheek. She was about to take the phone from him and tell that horrible woman off, when he quickly said goodbye and hung up. He made a face she had never seen on him before. 

“Gina wants her stuff from the house. Says she’ll be by tomorrow and demands I have her things in clearly labeled boxes just inside the door. She doesn't want to step foot into my house again.”

She smirked at Dennis, looking very much like the cat that ate the canary. “I think a better plan would be to show that cheating whore what she's missing.” 

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

Dennis couldn’t stop giggling thinking of the plan. He looked over at his coffee buddy, her short pink sundress making her look like a yummy treat. His fingers began twitching; he so badly wanted to unwrap and devour her. He walked up behind her, winding his arms around her middle. Whispering in her ear, “I’m dying to taste your juicy cunt.”

Her knees wobbled at his dirty words, whimpering as she felt herself getting wet. Bailey glanced at the time, it was too early, he wasn’t playing fair. He began nibbling on her ear while groping her chest, making her clench around nothing, she felt so empty. Well… it wasn’t terribly early. No harm in pregaming. She allowed Dennis to reach under her dress and slide her panties down her legs. 

“Wait,” she reached down to grab the piece of fabric, throwing it to the floor on the other side of the kitchen island near the box labeled ‘the bitches crap.’

Dennis didn’t have time to ponder why she did that because his pants were currently being undone by nimble fingers. His eyes followed her beautiful face as she fell to her knees in front of him. He gripped the counter behind him as she removed his semi hard cock from his pants, her other hand cupping his balls, giving him a smile too innocent for what her naughty hands were up too. 

Leaning forward, Bailey licked at his testicles, gently rolling each in her mouth. She dragged her tongue along the underside of his length, satisfied hearing him gasp and his body jerk. Her ravenous gaze never faltered as she watched him watching her with lust blown eyes. Placing a kiss on his tip, Bailey sucked him fully into her mouth. She swallowed him a few times before allowing his dick out to glide along her cheek. Her tongue gave it a kitten lick and another kiss.

“Fuck,” Dennis gave a needy moan, “please, Bailey.”

Gripping his thighs, her mouth reclaimed his cock, taking him as deeply as she could. Her own arousal drenching her as she continued blowing him. Sparing a peak at the clock, she leaned back, causing Dennis to practically sob. 

He wasn’t disappointed for long as she turned around and pulled up her dress. Putting on the condom he had in his pocket, he grabbed the back of Bailey’s neck, bent her over the kitchen island and buried himself to the hilt. The lewd squelch of his cock dragging in and out of her dripping heat drove him into a frenzy. Both began moaning louder as he continued to fuck her. It was almost time.

Gina let herself in, not bothering to knock or ring the bell. Seeing no boxes, she marched into the home yelling, “God damn it, Dennis. I told you to have the boxes ready by the door. Why can’t you do anything right? You are hopeless. You…” She paused at the kitchen entryway, mouth hung open. Blinking a few times in shock. Her ex-husband was screwing some chic from behind, how disgusting. “What the fuck is the meaning of this, Dennis? How dare you, in our fucking kitchen?”

Dennis looked up when his ex started screaming, seeing the offended look on her face, he had to stifle a laugh. “Shut the fuck up, get your shit and get out. My girlfriend and I are busy.” Turning his attention back to the woman under him, he vigorously pounded into her.

Gina couldn’t believe her ears, he had never spoken to her like that. And he certainly never made her make those noises. Avoiding the tossed panties, she grabbed the single box on the floor and hurried out of there, slamming the door behind her. 

The sound of his ex shrieking all the way to her car had the couple in stitches. Dennis couldn’t believe it worked. Bailey was a genius. Pulling out, he turned her body to him, kissing her forehead, nose and lips. “Want to fuck in another room?”

“Ha! Yes, in every room. Give my pussy the tour.”

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

A week later, Bailey waited at the coffee kiosk, order in hand. Dennis was late, he had never been late before. To make matters worse, he hasn't responded to her messages for the last two days. She was concerned, but didn’t want to be ‘that’ girlfriend. She didn’t want to smother him if he needed space.

It was almost 8 a.m. when he showed up, giving Bailey a big hug and kissing her cheek. “I’m sorry I’m late and that I haven’t been responsive. Been really busy. I hope you’re not mad.” He took his coffee and donut from her.

“I forgive you, but I have to tell you, D, I was really worried. I thought you were sick, or maybe hurt, or that I must have done something wrong.” 

Dennis’ eyes twinkled in amusement, “Oh no, everything's great thanks to you.” He gave Bailey another bone crushing hug, careful not to spill their coffees. “It worked.”

Her eyebrows drew together, “What worked.”

“Gina came over Saturday morning, begging for another chance, promising to be better. We made love all weekend. I got to show her all the new moves you taught me. She's moving back in as we speak. I’m getting my life back thanks to you. I can't thank you enough for your help.” His excited eyes met Bailey’s as they turned from confused to cold. She threw her drink in his face, called him an asshole and stormed off. 

Dennis was stunned, wiping the iced coffee from his face, he ran to catch up to her. “Bailey, what's wrong? Why did you do that? Hey!” 

She turned on her heel and sneered at him. “What did you expect, a high five for telling me you fucked your ex-wife and are back together with her.” 

Confusion danced across his face, “I don't understand, the plan worked. Gina was so jealous she came crawling back to me…”

“THE PLAN?!” Bailey shouted. “The plan was to show that bitch how you were living your best life without her. Expertly banging YOUR girlfriend,” she patted her chest, “so she regrets the way she treated you. NOT to get her back. NOT to throw me to the side for someone that was so cruel to you your whole life.” 

Dennis was flabbergasted, “Wait, you were my girlfriend? MY girlfriend? Like my real girlfriend, my real actual girlfriend?” He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why would someone as amazing as her want to be with him? He never would have given his ex a second thought if he knew he had her.

Bailey shook her head, “Not anymore.”

He couldn’t breathe, “N-n-no, wait…” 

“Goodbye, Dennis. Hope you have a wonderful life with that tramp.”

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

Dennis walked into his house, spotting Gina’s blonde hair at the fridge. She was throwing out his meat, and beer. She didn’t eat that stuff and wouldn’t allow him to. He was preparing himself to say something when a dark haired man bumped into him. The guy apologized and continued on his way, bringing boxes up the stairs. “Who was that?”

Gina spoke without bothering to face him, “That’s just Vinny, he’ll be staying with us for a few days. The poor dear got evicted. Don't worry, he knows we're working on our marriage. He won't be a problem, I promise.”

Oh lovely, the man Gina left him for will be living with them. “Okay,” he agreed defeatedly, walking into the living room. Dennis knew she’d be cheating on him again before sundown, in his house this time, and he will pretend he doesn't know. He’ll pretend everything is fine. 

Seems rock bottom had a basement. Dennis was in hell, he was sure of it. He lost the woman he loved, the only person that ever thought he was worth anything. He couldn't break further, there was nothing left. Dennis sighed and collapsed face down on the floor. Lying there in his own misery, daydreaming of what could have been.

The End

A/N: Oh Dennis…

A/N: A special thank you to everyone that has read this. I appreciate you all and I’d love to know your thoughts.

Sequel: It Could Have Been Love (Coming soon)

[hummingbird-of-light]

Semper Meus

Part 15

Khan

~ August to September 2019 ~

It took him three days to get all the information he needed. If Khan had known how easy it was to break out, he would have done so before.

The key to his freedom was a man called Thomas Harewood.

His contact outside had given him all the information he needed about the man working for the prison’s doctor. He was desperate to find help for his little daughter who was really sick and needed a lifesaving surgery.

One day later he had bribed the man. It was way too easy. Offer a desperate father a lot of money and he will do anything you ask for.

Harewood helped him fake his death with a globefish’s poison. Not too many people knew that a body could appear dead with the right amount of it. But one had to be careful so that it wouldn’t actually kill them.

Two days later everything was handled. He woke up in the back of a car. Harewood let him out in the middle of nowhere, giving him a new phone. Khan told him that he’d get the rest of the money as soon as possible.

And just like that he was a free man again.

He met up with one of his old partners, who drove him to the closest city. He got a new passport, some cash. To make sure that no one in San Francisco would recognize him, he had to change his hair and eyes.

Now, yet another day later, ‘Jacob Hemmingway’ was driving his new car through the familiar streets of San Francisco.

Blond curly hair, green eyes, pair of glasses, handsome clothes. No one would know that this was the man imprisoned for counterfeit drugs, abuse, grievous bodily harm.

The first place he visited was the house of that bastard of a doctor. He wasn’t there. At least his car was gone. However, there was someone else leaving the house.

A woman.

She kinda looked familiar even though Khan didn’t know her. Well… he’d find out who she was.

He followed her all the way to a bakery. Maybe she was helping with the organization of that wedding.

Khan got out of the car and stepped into the shop. He looked around, without attracting too many eyes and eavesdropped the conversation the woman had with the baker.

“So, I’d like to have a three layered cake for 24th of September. I know it’s a bit short-dated but I only now found the time. And I called in the morning and your co-worker told me that it is possible.”

“Oh, so you must be Miss McCoy, right?”

McCoy. Interesting. A cousin? No… more likely a sister. That explained the familiarity.

“Yes, I am. So… I wanted a mixture of red velvet and blueberry.”

The baker nodded.

“Right, right. How about I show you some examples?”

“That would be great.”

From the corner of his eyes, Khan saw the two women walk over to a small room.

Leonard McCoy’s sister. The baker had called her Miss, indicating she wasn’t married.

‘What are the chances?’

Part 16

Leah

After Leonard left for work Leah got herself ready for the day. She needed something to do with herself to distract her mind from all she had learned from her brother-in-law to be. Her hand curled in a fist at her side at the thought of what Scotty had been through.

“The cake,” she said aloud to herself.

Didn’t these two know anything about weddings? They had set a date so close, and expected things to work out. Well of course things were going to work out now that she was here to keep them on a schedule. At least Leo had had the foresight to get his suit done early.

Leah walked to her brother’s desk and found the small pile of wedding notes he’d set there. Leo had told her Jim had recommended a bakery for the cake. Someone he used to date worked there or something. Leah found the number and dialed.

“Keeler’s, how can I help you?” a feminine voice answered.

“Hi,” Leah said, “I know it’s a bit short notice, but I’m looking to have a cake made for my brother’s wedding.”

“How soon is the date?”

“September 24th.”

“Let me see…,” Leah heard papers rustling in the background.

“I’m not looking for something huge,” Leah added. “Maybe three layers? It’s going to be a relatively small wedding.”

“Ok… I think we can manage that. Would you like to come down to discuss it? Ms. Keeler will be in shortly.”

“Sure, I can be there soon.” Leah smiled to herself. This was going to be a piece of cake.

“Ok, I’ll just mark down you’re coming Miss…” the voice paused expectantly.

“Leah McCoy.”

“Ok Miss McCoy we’ll see you soon.”

Leah was satisfied leaving the bakery. She and Ms. Keeler had seen eye to eye on exactly what she wanted for Leo and Scotty. She smiled as she walked down the sidewalk. The heavy fog that had blown in was beginning to lift, but it had still left a chill in the air. She saw a shop ahead and decided something warm to drink would be quite welcome. She could plan her next move with a cup of something.

The shop was quite busy but Leah found an empty table to sit with her coffee. She was flipping through her phone when a voice surprised her. She looked up.

“May I sit?” a man was asking.

She glanced around. The shop was still full.

“Go ahead,” she shrugged.

“Thank you so much. I didn’t expect it to be so busy this morning,” the man said.

Leah glanced up. The man was looking at her with a friendly smile. His green eyes were bright behind his glasses and his blond curls flopped on his forehead. He appeared around her age.

“Everyone probably wanted to warm up,” she said smiling back.

“Oh,” the man said. “You aren’t from around here?”

Leah laughed. Leo held his drawl back as much as he could, but hers was always there.

“No, I’m here visiting my brother.”

The man looked around, as if looking for her brother.

“He’s at work,” she said.

“All by yourself?” the man asked curiously. Leah heard faint concern as well.

“I can take care of myself,” she grinned.

“Oh I’m sure you can,” he agreed with another smile.

Leah saw a twinkle in his eye. Had all the tables really been taken or had he come over here on purpose?

“Leah McCoy,” she said sticking out her hand.

“Jacob Hemmingway,” he responded, taking her hand.

Well, maybe this was the distraction she had been looking for.

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Adore You (Yamato x Reader)

A/N: hi guys. Yamato is your secret admirer and you are desperate to find out who's been leaving all these gifts at your doorstep. Civilian reader. Will be two parts, and since i just found out i have the coronavirus and cant leave the house, i’ll be putting out the second part very soon.

Ps i headcanon that yamato would be very shy and awkward with his crush. i also think that when he is nervous he definitely has really sweaty hands. idk thats just the vibe i get from him lol. please enjoy.

Word count: 4500

Y/N walked down the street after a long day of working in the bakery, kneading dough and icing cakes and sweets. It was a great job, and she really enjoyed the company of the two elderly owners. In her arms was another small picnic basket filled with sourdoughs and garlic loaves and cinnamon raisin buns. Those leftovers served as her breakfast, lunch, and dinner most days and it saved a lot of money on groceries.

Sometimes, she gifted the bread to friends and family though, like tonight.

As she walked the bustling streets, people walking home from work for the night, she noticed a couple of familiar faces sitting in the windows of a nearby restaurant. Feeling a little social, she walked into the restaurant and turned the corner, walking through the tables and past other booths full of people talking and drinking. It was busy tonight in Konoha, everyone getting ready for the weekend.

She came to a stop beside their table, and shifted so her basket rested in the slight curve of her hip. With her free hand she waved to the men, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Kakashi, Yamato,” she chirped, “I saw you guys in the window on my way home from work and thought I’d stop in to say hello.”

“Y/N. What a pleasant surprise.” Kakashi hummed, peering over his glass of golden liquid at his friend, who he could tell was struggling to figure out what to say or do. Yamato wasn’t normally nervous; he was very cool headed. How else would he become such an important Anbu member? But around Y/N, this woman with flour dusted in her hair and the smell of cinnamon and chocolate on her clothes, he crumbled. Just that smell alone could make Yamato lose his composure. And Kakashi knew that very well. “As a matter of fact, we were just talking about you.”

Yamato coughed on his drink, covering his mouth with his arm to keep from spitting up on the table. Even if they were just talking about her, it was completely uncalled for for Kakashi to stab him in the back like that. He turned to face the young woman who looked down at him with curiosity in her eyes.

“Really? What about?” she questioned, raising a brow.

He averted his eyes to the table again where his hand rested clutching at the glass. “We were just discussing the bakery,” he explained sheepishly, a hand going to rub the back of his neck. He felt the stress coming on, and sweat was beginning to gather on his palms. He felt ill, and more importantly, upset with the friend sitting directly across from him, smirking under that damn mask.

What an evil bastard.

“Mind if I join you guys? I could definitely use a drink.” She motioned to the seat next to Yamato, and he scooted closer to the wall to make room for her. She made sure her basket was sealed and secure before reaching over the table to Kakashi. “Can you sit this next to you? I don’t wanna take up the whole table.”

“No problem.”

She slid into the seat beside Yamato, and he realized just how small their table really was. The chair was clearly made for one person, or maybe two small people. They were just inches away. He could literally feel the heat of her thigh beside his. He was losing his mind, he was sure of it. There was absolutely no reason to act or think this way just because of a woman, a little baker from the village. No reason. It was inappropriate.

He took a deep breath and sipped on his drink. Everything was cool. Y/N L/N was cool.

“What kind of goods are you bringing home tonight?” Yamato asked calmly.

“Uh, lets see. A sourdough loaf and a garlic rosemary loaf. Also, I have about eight cinnamon buns in there,” she listed off the top of her head, “Why? You wanna take some home with you, because that’s fine. I’m not gonna eat all of it.”

“No, not this time.”

“You, Kakashi?”

“Yeah, I’ll take whatever.” It was a free meal for the next day? How could he say no to that?

The waitress came around, and Y/N ordered a tall glass of some sweet drink, something she knew wouldn’t taste like shit but would get her all warm and cozy quick, fruit juice covering up the taste of poison. “So, what were you guys talking about before I came around? I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“It’s good you came around, actually. We could use a woman’s opinion here.” Yamato glared at Kakashi, pleading with everything he had for the copy nin to just leave it alone. Kakashi was set in his goals though, and pushed forward with what he was saying. “It’s about Tenzo.”

An even brighter smile grew on her lips, one full of mischief and curiosity. “Oohoho? I see. What’s got you men stuck?” She loved to gossip, it was just something so interesting in her mundane life. Surely, it wasn’t as interesting to shinobi who almost die all the time and always have something to do, but for a village girl who goes home every night to read and eat bread, and then go to work where she just makes and sells said bread, a bit of juicy personal information really intrigued her.

“It’s honestly not a big deal-”

“Our boy here, he’s got a crush.”

Her eyes widened and suddenly, she felt the urge to down even more of her drink. He was interested in someone? She never expected that. He was always so quiet and calm, and kept to himself. He didn’t seem like the type to ever care about someone in that way. She sighed, taking a long sip on her drink, which tasted like peaches and oranges. At least it was sweet enough to help her curb the impending sadness.

Maybe she was stupid for it, but she cared for Yamato. He was such a sweet and kind man, so earnest and gentle. He was everything good about her mornings, when he would walk in and ask for the same hot cross bun to start his day. He would smile and compliment the cake decorating she was working on, and tell her about his missions and what he had to do for the day.

Perhaps Y/N had the tiniest of crushes on Yamato. It was something she would never reveal to anyone else, but it was true. She couldn’t deny herself that fact.

Kakashi stared at the woman, gauging her reaction to the statement. From the way she immediately went to sip away half of the drink in her glass, and the way her shoulders curled in on themselves, he could guess how she was feeling. He wasn’t usually a fan of meddling in other people’s business, but he was beginning to feel tired of Yamato complaining day in and day out about how he could never get the girl or express his feelings. He was afraid of rejection, as sad as that might be.

He was just there to give them a push in the right direction.

“I see.”

“What do you think he should do? What do the civilian girls like?”

This crush was just another civilian. It would be one thing if he fell in love with a kunoichi, someone she would never be able to compete with, but the thought of him choosing another normal woman over her, the envy practically oozed from her pores. What did this other girl have that Y/N didn’t?

Y/N ordered another drink when the waitress walked by. And then another after she drank the second one. Might as well get more down and drown out these jealous thoughts.

Meanwhile, she listed off things that random women normally like when men do for them, things she didn't really care about like chocolates and asking them out to dinner and giving them stuffed animals. Boring things. Things they all already knew. Kakashi agreed that the advice was kinda bland, and he could have come up with that easily.

Yamato eyed her down nervously as she practically chugged the rest of her drink. The woman wasn’t a big drinker, just a couple innocent cocktails here or there, never with the intention of getting drunk.

“You okay, Y/N?”

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine,” she told him smoothly. “Anyway, I’m not done telling you all about us village girls.”

The third drink came by and she sighed, taking another long sip. At least it tasted good, that made it easy to drink and drink and drink.

“Maybe you should slow down.”

“Maybe you should worry about yourself. I’m grown. I can handle myself, Yamato.” He felt a pang in his chest at her sharp words, ones that he’d never really heard directed toward him. She scolded Kakashi on the daily for being a pervert, but only kind words met Yamato’s ears previously. “Anyway, about this girl. Have you tried getting her anything as a gift? The things I listed before? Love notes? That sorta thing?”

He shook his head. “Well, no. I haven’t tried anything yet.”

“That’s the thing about you, Tenzo. You’re so modest. If you want the girl, you need to go in and get her. You need to show her what she means to you, since you can’t bring yourself to just outright tell her.”

“The whole bold displays of affection aren’t my thing.”

She hummed, her head lolling from side to side as she twirled the straw of her drink in between her fingers. “Maybe you should try some roundabout approach since you’re so scared of rejection. Send her anonymous letters and gifts, give her little clues that it’s you and see how she reacts.”

“Like a secret admirer?"

“Exactly! That’s sooo romantic. I wish some guy would do that shit for me.”

Kakashi raised a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Of course. I’m almost 27 and I’ve never had a long lasting relationship. I just want some guy to really, I don’t know, just love me. Love who I am, not hook up with me for my body or-or only pretend to like me for coupons on bread,” she complained, quite loudly as well. “Fuck those guys and their bread discounts...”

“Y/N-”

“I’d suggest you do something like that for your crush. Make her feel like you really care about her mind and soul.” Y/N clutched her hand over her heart and squeezed the front of her dress. “So many men nowadays act like horny teenagers, and us ladies are sick of it.”

She really did not need to go into such detail, and Yamato could tell she was drinking too much. Y/N would never say these things aloud if she were completely in her right mind. He felt rude just sitting there letting her rant on and on, exposing her own feelings to the table. But at the same time, he was grateful to know what she wanted in a lover. She never really let on what her romantic life was like, other than single for the most part.

That is what he and Kakashi were discussing before she came around. He was desperate to sweep her off her feet and woo her, to make revealing his feelings easier. Kakashi told him to just go to the bakery and tell her right then and there, but that was just too bold. He wasn’t going to go in without a plan, it was irrational.

“Yamato, I’m telling you, if this woman rejects you, she’s fucking stupid. You’re a catch. You and Kashi over there, both of you could get any woman you want, and that’s a fact.” the woman waved her hand to emphasize her point, only to knock the rest of her fourth drink over into her lap, sticky syrup soaking into her apron and through to her skirt. “Oh man.”

“I think it’s time for you to head home, little miss Y/N,” Kakashi chimed in, “This is exactly why we don’t bring you to bars, you know.”

“Shush. I am fine.”

Yamato sighed, motioning with his hands for her to move to the edge of the seat. He rolled his eyes at her words, knowing she was talking out the ass. “Yeah, yeah. Just get up, Y/N. I’m taking you home.”

Both men were surprised when she lifted her hand and pushed him away from her. Her glare was intense, anger behind those eyes. “No! Not you. I want Kakashi to walk me home.” The man was taken aback by the harshness in her tone. She was normally calm tempered, but her head was spinning and she was obviously growing moody.

“That’s fine by me. Yamato, you’ll pick up the bill for us and uh, clean this mess, right?” Kakashi smirked as he slid out from the booth and picked up her bag of baked goods. She followed suit, climbing out of her seat and grabbing onto the shinobi’s arm tightly. He really couldn’t care any less about her nonsense. It had been so long since they became friends, he’d seen her in every mood imaginable, and much drunker than this. He’s walked her home more than a few times in their past years.

“Curse you, cheap-ass.”

“Gotta go.”

With that, the white haired man walked out the restaurant with a woman in tow. They lived in the same direction, so he started down the street as she stumbled after him, tripping occasionally on pebbles. He felt bad for his friend, really. But the answer was clear as day now. Y/N cared for Yamato a lot more than she let on. It was just up to one of them to make a move. He couldn't do everything for them.

She tripped along beside him, letting her head fall against his shoulder a few times. Her eyes slid up to the man’s masked face, and he felt her hands begin to quiver a bit around his arm, just a tiny bit, but it was still there. Those little, very-telling, tremors.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked gently, knowing she would immediately spill whatever was stuck on her mind.

“Kashi, why does Tenzo want some other village girl?” she questioned, her cheeks puffing out and her eyes getting watery with tears. “Why doesn’t he want me? I want him so badly, it hurts right here.” she placed her free hand over her stomach and gagged. “I might throw up, it hurts so much.”

“Trust me, it’s gonna be okay,” he hushed, a tiny smile on his lips. He didn’t want to reveal too much to her, but it was just so amusing pulling the strings like this. Two of his friends, one a subordinate and the other a sneaky baker, falling for each other right in front of him. With all the work piling up, this was definitely a refreshing take.

“Also, you shouldn't throw up. It'll burn your throat, you know.”

She nodded, and just clutched onto her stomach as they made their way down the narrow alleyways toward her small apartment. He unlocked the door for her when she struggled to fit the key into the tiny hole that blurred together with everything else. He was a good friend, she thought, and made a mental note to thank him next time she saw him. Well, she tried to make a mental note, but when her body hit the mattress in the corner of her small studio, she found herself drifting away.

__________

God, her head hurt so badly she thought her skull was cracking open right then and there, as she lifted her head from her pillow. Light shined in through the window only to make things worse than before. She looked around the room and noticed that her coat was hung up properly on the hook and her shoes were sitting by the door. Her basket rested atop her counter.

Most importantly, on her nightstand sat a glass of water and a couple pills, ready for her to take the moment she woke up. Kakashi or Yamato must have walked her home and put her to bed. They were very nice men, she enjoyed having them as friends, she just worried she had made a drunken fool of herself last night in front of them. She rarely drank heavily, for that reason. She couldn’t even remember what happened, just that she met them at the restaurant and then the rest fell empty in her mind, little images blending together until she couldn’t decipher a thing that happened. She was more than ashamed.

How could she lose control of herself so casually, she wondered. She never even wanted to drink, much less enough to give her this searing headache. Something must have happened last night that influenced her decisions. Maybe she had a drinking contest with Kakashi like that one time before. If so, that was completely uncalled for on the man’s part. He knew her tolerance.

Nevertheless, she needed to get ready for work. A hangover wasn’t enough to heed the workings of the bakery.

She took the pills, and threw off her covers, walking over to her counter to take out one of the cinnamon rolls, taking a big bite to curb her hunger pains. After taking a moment to compose herself, she got ready for work. If she was late, she knew the owners would be forgiving, but she still felt bad regardless. She was going to walk in looking like a complete disaster.

As she headed out her door that morning, she stumbled on something sitting right at the foot of her doorstep on the welcome mat. Resting there, in a tiny little ceramic pot, stood a bonsai tree, trimmed and cared for perfectly. Her eyes scanned the area for who could have set it there, but met only empty space.

Hesitantly, she picked it up and brought it into her home. There was no note attached, nothing to signal who’d given it to her. Just a little tree that she would put on her window sill. It was strange, she had to admit that, to receive an anonymous gift at such an hour. She’d have to ask her friends about it later on to see if one of them had given it to her, for reasons she didn’t know.

But as the days went by, and those days turned into weeks, she continued to receive gifts every few days. More tiny trees in pots, sometimes flowers in little glass vases. None of them at first had anything attached until the most recent piece which when she picked it up to take into her home, a folded piece of paper sat beneath the vase. She made sure to pick it and put it in her apron to read on her break when she went to work. She didn’t have the time when she woke up only about 20 minutes before she was due at her job.

She was more than grateful for the little garden she was accumulating on her window sill, the beautiful flowers and trees somehow surviving despite her little knowledge of taking care of them. She stopped by a flower store in town to get some fertilizer just to keep them alive. It would be a shame if they died since someone was being so kind as to give them to her.

With her boring life, the flowers brought a smile to her face and a warmth in her heart that she hadn’t felt before. Regardless of who was leaving the items there, she felt like she was important to someone. Some person was taking time out of their day to show they cared about her.

Truthfully, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wished it was Yamato leaving her gifts. She’d been attracted to the man for quite some time, ever since they met really. He was just so strong and brave, and awkward in a cute kind of way. He was truly the only man of her affections, and she could only dream she was the object of his as well.

It was more than unlikely though. He was a strong ninja of the leaf. The chances of someone that amazing wanting to be with someone as simple as the town baker were lower than she wanted to admit. He most likely had his eyes set on some gorgeous kunoichi like Shizune or Kurenai. Someone he could relate to, really.

It was embarrassing to even admit she had a crush on him. It made her feel so tiny and weak, knowing that she wasn’t his ideal.

So she pushed that thought from her mind. Yamato would never be interested in her, and he most certainly not the one leaving her little notes and plants.

What she did know was that this person was a shinobi. Maybe not Yamato, but they were definitely a shinobi. She set up a trap, at least one she thought a normal person would fall for. Right before her door, she set up a tiny trip wire made of floss at the perfect level for someone to pull loose when they walked up to leave a gift on her welcome mat. Her room was at the very end of the hallway, so there was no way anyone else except her secret admirer was the one to set off the trap. Any normal person without the high perception of a shinobi would set off the trap and she would be able to narrow down the results to a civilian.

Only, the morning after she set up the trip wire, when she opened her door, there sat another bouquet of flowers, as well as an untripped strip of floss.

This person had to be a shinobi. She concluded. It was the only explanation in her mind, desperate to find out who the mystery person was all this time.

As she walked the streets that afternoon after the store had closed, her eyes honed in on Yamato, who stood next to a vegetable stand picking up some groceries. Immediately, she turned on her heel and cornered him between the squash and the sweet potatoes.

“Yamato, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent. Do you mind?” she practically demanded, and his eyes widened. He did not expect such an abrupt conversation between them. He shifted awkwardly to rest his grocery bag in the crook of his elbow and lean on his left side, arms crossed over his chest.

He knew what she wanted to talk about. It was about those gifts that he had been giving her. It was just a matter of whether she had figured out it was him or not, that was the question. He was kinda hoping she didn’t know yet. He was not ready to face what came after the reveal, rejection or otherwise. He really hadn’t thought it that far out yet. How could he. Just thinking up love notes and what plants to give her next was more than enough to worry about.

But damn, when he looked down at her, hair dusted with flour from a days work, a smudge of cake batter still on her forearm, apron a complete mess, he wanted to cave and tell her everything. She was just so beautiful, so clumsily perfect he couldn’t help but lose his train of thought. He swore he’d never seen a woman more perfect than her, not even Naruto’s sexy jutsu could come close to this girl.

He found his ears heating up and no doubt turning red at the thoughts running through his mind, and he was quick to smother them down. He was not irrationally emotional. Hell, he was ANBU, he should be able to control his emotions down to a tee.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I have a secret admirer, and I know they are a shinobi.”

He felt himself growing nervous. How had she deduced that? “Ah, that’s definitely exciting for you. How do you know it’s a shinobi?”

“I know because I set up a tripwire last night and the person didn’t set it off, so I know they are coordinated enough to avoid it. This isn’t just some random village boy. This is someone skilled.”

“Y/N, he could have very well just avoided the trap with his natural gait, don’t you think?” he tried to reason with her, try to get her off his trail. Admittedly, he thought she was quite clever for setting up the trap. When he walked over it the night before, he swore it was just a spider web. He didn’t even consider the possibility of a trap in his way.

If only he could throw her off his scent. He needed more time. He couldn’t confess to her now. It was too abrupt, too sudden. He would probably die.

“No, I’m convinced it’s a shinobi.”

Shit. “Well, what are you going to do now?”

She thought for a short moment on what she was going to say, tapping her foot on the ground beside her. Her eyes widened and she smiled at the thought that ran through her mind. Of course, it was so obvious. “The gifts come sporadically, so I know that the shinobi can’t leave gifts when they are on missions. Next time there is a long break in gifts, I will just ask around to figure out who has been on a mission for a while. Bam, I’ve got my answer. It’s foolproof.”

She really had thought this through more than him. She was too good, and he felt himself panicking. He had a weeklong mission in 3 days, and if she asked anyone, they would tell her it was him. He felt moisture gather up at his brow, and he internally cursed his situation. He had to find some way out of this mess without her figuring out it was him.

“Yeah, that could definitely work. I hope it all works out for you, Y/N,” he lied through his teeth.

“I know. I’m just smart like that, aren’t I?”

“You sure are,” he muttered, but honestly, he just wanted to go off and find Kakashi. He needed to talk to him. His eyes slid away from Y/N and he sighed. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t forget to stop by before your next mission to get some of our special food pills, okay? I just made a new batch and you can try them free of charge. Anything for a fella as handsome as yourself.” She laughed, shifting her weight to press a hand to her hip.

Jeez. There was no good reason for her looking so adorable. Calling him handsome as well? It was all too much for his heart to handle. Needless to say, he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t walk away right then. With that, he simply nodded before patting her shoulder. “Like I said, gotta go.”

“Oh, okay. See you around.”

“See you.”

He walked away quickly, heading in the direction of Kakashi’s apartment, knowing he just had to do something about the mess he was currently in, and ways to avoid the inevitable. His heart was racing so fast he thought he might be having a heart attack. How could he be swayed so easily by a pretty face. He had no idea, but he really wanted it to stop. For the sake of his sanity, he needed to learn to be calm around her.

He would tell her soon, get all this off his chest and share his true feelings. He just needed a bit more time.

[raamyun-and-rambles]

Musings of an Alchemist’s Lover

Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairing: Albedo x Reader Summary:  Maybe you had a third eye somewhere you didn't know of, a horn that's grown out of you without you noticing or a tail that flicks behind you whenever you weren't looking. Whatever it was, certainly there had to be something noticeably different about you that attracted the alchemist's attention and your curiosity allowed your mind to wander.

-----------

Holding Albedo's attention for more than a few seconds was no easy feat.

Unless it was a topic that tickled his fancy or something of utmost urgence, Albedo would most likely only regard the unfortunate soul with a disgruntled hum, tuning out most of their words until he manages to somewhat catch onto the main gist of their spiel. He doesn't even do anything to hide his disinterest, eyes immediately finding purchase on anything else but the speaker in front of them, musing theories to himself that he'd sometimes let slip into a whisper. This certain trait of his has definitely gotten him into trouble more than a couple of times but Albedo could hardly care. Surely discovering the world's secrets is more important than helping the Knights look for Margaret's lost cat for the umpteenth now right?

Despite being Mondstadt's favorite person and with a reputation that precedes him, Albedo was surprisingly anti-social. He had little to no regards for social interaction and this is further proved when he made himself a makeshift laboratory in one of Dragonspine's cave.

It was quiet, deserted and had almost everything he needed for his studies. If he ever ran out of supplies then he'd be able to call for either Sucrose or Timaeus - or go down the mountain himself to make sure he'll stock up with more than the amount he needs so he can hole himself up for a couple of weeks on end. The scenery was an added bonus, if the amount of sketches he's made was anything to go by, it was safe to say that Albedo liked it as well. Thick snow carpeted the floor as far as the eye can go and streams glimmered under the light of the morning sun. The air was crisp and chilly, it nipped at his nose and made his cheeks burn red, but his cave offered a comforting warmth once he's sank in front of the hearth, nursing a cup of tea or hot chocolate.

Albedo was many things, that much you could tell.

A genius, an alchemical prodigy, a leader, a brother - and most surprisingly, even to yourself - your lover.

To be fairly honest you weren't entirely sure what it was that attracted the Chief Alchemist of the Knights to your side. You were hardly anyone special after all, simply just one of Lisa's many acquaintances who spends one too many hours in the library. You were of average height and build, with a face that you could only describe as forgettable. Neither you nor your parents were well-known within the walls of the city of freedom and you lived a mostly mundane routinary life as a baker until Klee had bounded into your humble store one rainy evening, soaked to the bone and sneezing from the cold. The poor thing was shivering and had asked to take shelter from the pouring rain. You didn't have the heart to turn her away and you were more than just a little familiar about the stories of Mond's most adorable but destructive spark knight. You allowed her into your home, giving her a fresh towel to pat herself dry and a cup of hot milk and freshly baked cookies. The child bounced in glee, thanking you and happily accepting the treats with a smile that could part the skies to make way for the rays of sun. You allowed her to phone her guardian after she had finished eating and you kept her company throughout the entire wait. You turned your attention away from Klee the moment the store bell rang and your (e/c) eyes had immediately met with bright turquoise irises.

"Thank you for taking care of her." Albedo said as he knelt down to assist Klee with wearing her infamous bright red coat and adjusted her mushroom hat so it sat snugly atop her head.

"It's no problem at all, she was lovely company. I'd be delighted to have her around again every once in a while." You chuckled, remembering how she had praised the treats you made for her.

"Albedo onii-chan Albedo onii-chan!" The spark knight excitedly exclaimed, tugging on his hand with each call of his name. "______ makes the best sweets! Her cookies are really good and the bread she makes are really fluffy! She let me help her mix the dough earlier and-"

"How about you tell me all about it when we get home Klee? It's late and I'm sure ______ has to close up shop soon."

Klee deflated a bit but was quick to understand, she turned to you immediately after and flashed you another bright smile.

"Thank you for today ______ nee-chan, Klee will come back to visit another time!"

You smiled at her enthusiasm and you couldn't resist the urge to pat her on the head.

"I'll be waiting for you here then."

Albedo stood up after the exchange and finally regarded you with his attention. "We'll be off then, have a lovely evening miss ______."

"And to you too sir Kreideprinz."

You watch them walk off down the cobbled street, Klee's joyous laughter and excited chatter filling the air despite the pattering of rain against your roof. They took a turn around the corner and disappeared from your view. A small smile tugs on your features and you immediately set to work with locking up the store for the night.

Klee had started coming over more often after that night, mostly dropping by before you close while she waited for Albedo to finish work. It was no surprise that Klee often talked fondly about her big brother, praising him and telling you stories you haven't heard from any of the other residents of Mond while you prepared for tomorrow's next batch of goods. Albedo seemed like a very busy man from the way Klee tells her stories but he always seemed to make time to pick her up, oftentimes buying some bread and sweets before leaving.

It surprised you a little when he admitted he enjoyed having something sweet while he worked. Albedo insisted that it was because it gave him a considerable boost of energy but a part of you thinks it could just be because he had a sweet tooth he just wasn't aware of.

Needless to say it was due to that chance encounter with Klee that had allowed you to meet the chief alchemist himself and your relationship had only continued to bloom from there.

He was - in simple terms - wonderful.

An eccentric, true, but wonderful nonetheless and you never would have guessed that you'd ever end up as his lover nor did you ever imagine you'd be holding him in your arms, sleep slowly overtaking him as you gently ran your fingers through soft platinum locks - much like the lazy morning you were both sharing right now.

Albedo had come home at almost 3 in the morning the other night, with a throbbing headache and eyes that almost refused to open from drowse. He had pulled all-nighters for several days now, refusing to leave his lab for even a moment as he fully threw himself into his work. Nothing could ever stop him when he was in such a state, filled with elation at the mere prospect of a new discovery. It was a side of him that you admired as much as you found it problematic, it was amazing how he could wholly dedicate all his time, effort and energy towards his research but it was a definitely a point of worry that he'd also forget how to take care of himself. The alchemist immediately headed to your shared bedroom, dragging his feet across the floor while he shed himself of his coat, letting out a long yawn before heaving himself onto the mattress' soft comfort. You stirred from your sleep as the bed dipped and knowing it couldn't possibly be anyone else other than Albedo, you immediately rolled to your side and wrapped your arms around his middle, nuzzling into his warmth as his arms found themselves around you to return your embrace. There was an exchange of sleepy mumbles before you both immediately fell back into sleep.

You smile a little bit at the memory, humming softly as you continue to softly card your fingers through his hair. It was more than just a little past the time you both usually woke, but you'll allow it for now. Surely the people could wait a couple hours more for their morning bread and the knights can surely make do without the Chief Alchemist for a moment longer. So long as Albedo was getting the rest he needed you figured a lazy morning in would be alright every once in a while especially after the sleepless hectic nights he had the past few days. The peaceful expression on his face immediately filled you with relief.

"Albedo?" You whispered, afraid you'd break the serenity of the morning.

The alchemist responded with a sleepy hum, lifting his head so he could look at you as his long lashes fluttered open.

A smile tugged at your lips at his sleepy visage before you gently pressed a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you."

He gives you a sleepy smile of his own, heart swelling at the affection before nuzzling back into the crook of your neck.

"I love you too."

His lips brushed against your pulse as he spoke and his breath tickled against your skin, feeling a little playful, you then decided to ask.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

A question you've always been meaning to ask, brought about by a sudden spur of confidence.

"Because meine liebe," Albedo starts, once again pulling himself away from your warmth to hold you with his gaze - you once again think to yourself that his eyes has the most beautiful shade of green - "I love you simply because you are you."

"You're certain it's not because I have a third eye hidden away somewhere or some freaky mutation I somehow have no knowledge of?"

Albedo chuckled lightly.

"Certainly not love, and I'm sure if you do I wouldn't be the only one to take notice of it."

You hum, convinced and resumed patting his hair.

The alchemist assumed his earlier position and sank further into your embrace.

"Besides," he murmured, sleep lacing his words,

.

.

.

"I think you're wonderful just the way you are."

[bailey-reaper]

Do a drabble on Barok’s and his s/o wedding day and night.

The Ring of Truth

Notes: Hmmm! This is another of those scenarios that would no doubt differ depending on S/O's gender and, possibly, their standing in society. I'm going to proceed on the assumption that the wedding is a private affair that is conducted in a rather unconventional manner.

Also, sorry anon, I didn't end up writing about the wedding night – perhaps another time!

In this instance, S/O is gender neutral (they/them pronouns). Barok refers to them using petnames.

Content Warnings: fluff, marriage, Herlock Sholmes

"You know," Herlock Sholmes began, causing Barok to surreptitiously roll his eyes, "It just so happens that I'm a recognised member of the clergy!"

That one caused a small ripple of shock at the table, "Are you really?" Barok replied dryly, because no doubt this was going to form part of a 'witty' (and lengthy) anecdote that would drone on and on until the teller forgot what he was talking about and changed to some other inane subject.

"Yes, indeed," Sholmes said, taking a brief puff on his pipe, "I was ordained into the priesthood as thanks for my swift, discreet solving of a little matter that was upsetting Vatican City..."

"Oh Mr. Sholmes you simply must tell us more!" Susato chimed in, clasping her hands together in delight.

"Why I'd love to, my dear madam."

"Yes," Barok muttered, "There's nothing you love more than the sound of your own voice..."

"Rather a rude quip, Mr. Reaper, and from a lawyer no less!"

"At least when I talk it holds some relevance to it."

"Hmmm, I suspect what I say here will hold relevance some day down the line..."

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

And, much to Barok's disbelief, Sholme's words held true when he found himself in need of someone to officiate a ceremony between him and his beloved. He'd abandoned his faith a long while ago, when Klint died, and he did not care to rejoin a flock again.

While his beloved had never been much for faith and was similarly without a Parish Church to call theirs. In such circumstances, Barok had finally cast his mind back to the irksome detective's declaration to the effect that he was a 'member of the clergy'.

Any ceremony they conducted would be unofficial, of course, given their circumstances, but they were both keen to be married in a symbolic sense. An exchange of rings and words. It was not something Barok had thought he wanted, but a growing part of him had become deeply keen on the idea of a 'wedding' with his beloved.

So, much to his chagrin, he found himself calling at 211B Baker Street to speak to Sholmes.

"My dear man!" Sholmes exclaimed excitedly, "A wedding is a truly auspicious affair, and the wedding of a Reaper must be doubly so in some realm or another!"

Barok peered at the detective, lips drawn into a thin line, "Answer the question, man, will you officiate or not?"

"Nothing would delight me more! Now, might I suggest the perfect venue?"

". . . . You may suggest what you like, but I remain at liberty to reject your request on account of it no doubt being utterly ridiculous."

"Come now, Mr. Reaper, I'm not about to suggest you be wed in a hot air balloon or something of that nature! Though, come to think of it, that would be quite a thrilling way in which to 'tie the knot' haha!"

". . . . I'm starting to lose my patience, Sholmes..."

"Running out of wine, are we?"

"That's neither here nor there," Barok observed, taking a sip of wine, "Though it does mean that casting this hallowed chalice at your head would be a more worthwhile use for it..."

"Yes, yes, no doubt you've the right of it, sir!" it seemed nothing could affect the detective's mood when his spirits were high, not even the threat of violence from the Reaper himself, "Anyway, as I was saying: I think a ceremony, right here, in Baker Street, would be perfect. There can be no more romantic venue than the living quarters of the greatest and most famous detective of all time! And the pleasure can be yours, my good fellow, for the nominal fee of one hundred shillings!"

A long silence drew out between the two men: Herlock stood over his guest, leaning in, with a smile on his face and hands out in fanfare while Barok stared at his host, unblinking, before finishing what remained in his chalice.

"No," he finally and bluntly replied, "I have a perfectly attractive ancestral home that can serve as a venue. Naturally, I will permit you the use of one of the cottages within the estate, and you may remain for a spell afterward on holiday if you so wish... but I won't be renting your... eccentric premises. I cannot think of a more chaotic and unappealing place to host a wedding."

Sholmes sighed, "Ah... it must be quite a challenge to be so perpetually dour! Still, I admire your tenacity Mr. Reaper!"

"... Thank you, it comes naturally."

"Well, it is settled, give me a date and time and I shall be there posthaste to wed you and your sweetheart in holy matrimony? Unholy matrimony? Oh but wait... what on earth will happen when you reach the 'til death do us part' section of the vows? Being a reaper and all!" Sholmes laughed with delight as he contemplated the absurdity of a reaper being wed.

"I'll see myself out," Barok said, leaving the detective to his amusement.

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

A few months later, the date of the wedding arrived.

In somewhat unconventional fashion, Barok had selected his lawyerly nemesis, Ryūnosuke Naruhodō, to be his best man. The gesture was not lost on the young man, who took to it with his usual furtive vigour.

"Would you stop looking around like with quite such a terrified look in your eyes?" the groom said, glaring at the best man as he stood there trembling, "Anyone would think it was you getting married."

"Well... uh... yes I... um, sorry," Ryūnosuke eventually managed, "... I suppose I'm still a little surprised that you would ask me, of all people, to be your best man... not least of all given that I have no idea how British wedding ceremonies work."

"Well, happily for you this is far from a conventional one," Barok replied, "Who knows what will go wrong with that idiot detective in charge of proceedings..." it was strangely freeing, however, to know that nothing hinged on this. There were no expectant aristocrats, waiting for anything to go wrong so that they could then gossip about it for years to come; nor extended relatives to have to placate. The intimacy of the ceremony meant that the only thing Barok cared about was his beloved enjoying their day, which was a good concern to have.

"And as for choosing you to be my best man," he continued, "I think you've earned at least that much... Were it not for you, I'd no doubt be dead or transported by now."

It was still sobering to think that he'd almost been convicted of murder...

"... I'm sure you would have managed your own defence, but, I'm glad that we could all reach the truth."

"Yes..." it had been deeply cathartic in its way, perhaps just a touch more so than it had been soul shattering. If not for Ryūnosuke's impressive defence and his beloved's support, Barok was unsure what sort of a mess he would have become post-trial.

The ordeal had only cemented in his mind that this person was the one he wanted to be with for the rest of his life – however long that might be. He paused as he looked down at the Prosecutor's badge he'd affixed to his suit; Klint's badge. His fingers grazed the finely enameled surface. The fact that his older brother was not here to see him wed was a tragic one, but, he had come to the conclusion that he needed to move forward rather than perpetually looking back.

No doubt Klint would want him to enjoy his day, so he ought to honour that wish.

"Uh... Lord van Zieks?" he realised Ryūnosuke was speaking.

"... You may call me Barok, Mr. Naruhodō."

"Oh... uh..." clearly that had startled him, "In... that case, please call me 'Ryūnosuke'."

"... Very well. What is it, Ryūnosuke?"

"It's time for the ceremony."

Barok took a deep breath and nodded, "... Let's go, then," it had been a long while since he felt the flutter of nerves quite like this; in fact, it reminded him of the first time he stood in a court during his studies for a mock trial full of nervous energy.

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

To his credit, Sholmes was surprisingly focused and capable in his capacity as an officiator. Barok had to give him credit for that. The proceedings were conducted with an air of sobering warmth and not even a snicker at the 'til death do you part' section. Even the exchange of rings went off without a hitch.

It was all going so well, until––

"I now pronounce you Reaper and Spouse, you may now kiss the demigod."

Barok shot a fierce glare at Sholmes, but was quickly and completely distracted by his beloved's arms around him and their lips on his. He had to lift them up so that they could reach his mouth, but that was easily and readily achieved.

Finally they parted, Barok looking at his love in a delighted stupour, "... Well," he murmured after a few moments pause, "It seems we're now wed..."

"Yes," they replied, with a beaming smile and tears rolling down their cheeks, "And I couldn't be happier..."

It took him a moment to realise that his own eyes were glassy with tears as he looked down at his delighted love; his spouse, "Nor I... You have brought such light into my life, my beloved... it may sound trite, but it's true."

"I love you, Barok," they held him close while he returned the hold in kind; everything else melting into the background as he focused on the love of his life.

"I love you too..."

[izaiyah23]

mom is drunk.. again ✌🏽😘

we got in a fight earlier. I had been grounded for about 2 months and just got my phone back. my mother said she was going to tell my father that i had my phone back. (they’re divorced so there’s separate housing. My dad is manipulative, abusive. and an alcoholic and I refuse to see/ OR talk to him.) I told her i don’t want him to know i got my phone back. i don’t want him contacting me.

Now my mother’s father had died about two years ago. She grew up without him until college, where they reconnected. My uncle, however, chose not to get back in contact with his dad. My mother was so distraught about her dads death, she shut down. For LITERAL YEARS. She then started to drink excessively. She started to be mean, just like how my father was.

It was much easier to manage. She didn’t put my life in jeopardy by driving me around drunk (LIKE MY DAD). but she was still mean.

over the course of two years, her drinking slowed down. The only reason why it did was because i had attempted to kill myself. When i came back, she stayed sober for about 5 days before she got drunk again and told me i was selfish. She said that i will miss my father after he’s gone and i’m being selfish by not giving my father a chance.

Her words used to play in my head as id self harm. I attempted to kill myself for a total of 3 times. My mental health is terrible. I’ve been living with suicidal thoughts since i was 12. my father was so cruel to my mother, that she sought out drugs as a way to escape from him. Once their divorce happened, I was forced to see him for 3 days a week. He would drink a lot. He would speed. He would tell me i’m making things up. that i’m lying.

I drew the line when my little cousin Jocey was in the car with us. i held on to her as my father swerved and speeded up and down streets. I refused to see him after that. That was 2 years ago in february. My mother didn’t want to hire a lawyer, but i refused to see him, and she would constantly have him come back so that i’d be forced to say hi. She did eventually hire a lawyer where the custody arrangement is up to her and me.

i am now 16, and is recovering from a recent suicide attempt in November. I couldn’t see a way out. I didn’t deserve a way out. My mother would scream at me that i was selfish. I didn’t want to burden her anymore. I tried to hang myself in the closet. I blacked out. The first thing i woke up to was my mom calling my grandparents. She said “look at your grandchild! She’s fine! She’s just laying there for attention. Don’t give it to her.”

My grandparents took me to a hospital, then once they got the all clear, I went to a baker act facility. While I was there, my mother told me I wasn’t allowed to come home until i said out loud “i had tried to kill myself by hanging and that i was sorry.” There we’re other people there who get triggered by it so i said no, i’m not gonna say that. She said that i have to, if i want to come home. I screamed at her that i tried to hang myself and i kept saying “are you happy that i said it now?!?” she said yes. She said to apologize to her for being selfish. I said “screw you” and hung up the phone.

She’ll point out my neck scar every once in a while to say i need to put scar cream on. I get so upset because it’s barely even noticeable, unless you know what to look for.

While she was screaming at me about my dad today, i couldn’t help but to think that i am the problem. This is what lead me to attempt to end my life. Is suicide selfish? I never meant it to be. What i kept thinking is “I make them all hate me. I hate me. I made them all hate me.” (I had gotten in serious trouble with my family) I also thought: “There’s no point anymore. I give and I give and I give and I GIVE. And nothing that i do matters. I’m a fuck up.” My mother wanted to force me to drop out of high school. I’ve been failing this year. I’ve tried so hard to stay alive that nothing else matters to me. (Besides people, of course.)

I forgot where i was going with this story but i said that i didn’t want my father in my life. I said i was content without a father. (Honestly, I am.) She said “that’s sad. You have a father, and you’re not giving him a chance.” I have!! I’ve given him SO DAMN MANY. I will NEVER fucking treat my kids like he treated me. My mom said “he loves you, he didn’t love me. Stop trying to take my pain for yourself. It’s not yours.” BUT LIKE HUHHHH???? HE TREATED ME TERRIBLY TOO!

I don’t want him in my life, but it looks like i won’t get to choose because of my mother. I don’t care if he’s blood. (like my mother says). I don’t care if i am his child. He is a FUCKING sperm donor at best. To me that is what he is. I don’t care if he loves me. He put me in danger so many times, and I am still SCARED of him, that i’ll have nightmares sometimes. I don’t care. He was supposed to love me, not harm me. He hurt me, and pretended like it never happened.

My first homecoming a boy groped me without my permission. i felt all of him. I couldn’t move. I was scared. I told my dad and he said “was it a black or hispanic boy?” (my dad is dominican) i said that i wasn’t sure. he said “well he probably asked you to dance and you didn’t hear him.” I just looked at my dad. He continued “y’know when i was in high school if a girl said she didn’t feel like dancing, she’s playing hard to get. That you’re supposed to pull her up from he chair and dance with her.” My father had ultimately gave this boy permission to touch his child.

I don’t want my father at my graduation. I don’t want him at my wedding. I never want him to meet my children. I don’t want to stay in contact with him. I honestly don’t want to keep in contact with my mom.

what i’m asking is: Am I the asshole for not wanting my father back in my life?

ALSO ALSO:

I’m terrified to fall in love. Like seriously. I’m looking for love in places that aren’t healthy. I’m scared of men. I’m bisexual, but i’m like actually scared of men.

[beels-burger-babe]

I Love Him (Chapter One -DRAFT)

***S-So um...I felt bad for not having any Obey Me content to give you guys tonight, and instead thought th-that maybe instead of nothing you would like a sneak peek at my novel that I have previously mentioned, I Love Him.

What I'm showing you is the current draft of the first chapter. I haven't really touched it in a few months but um...I-I hope you like it?)***

Chapter One

“Bullocks”

Arthur Howell glared at the closed sign hanging on the door in front of him. Up until this point, his grocery run had been fairly pleasant, but now he supposed he’d have to find another place to buy his baked goods until the owners reopened in February.

A fantastic start to 1958. Arthur thought bitterly to himself as he shivered in the cold winter air.

Arthur looked around for a solution to his dilemma, but all his eyes found were more of the grey, stoned streets of central London and its citizens. He sighed and ran a hand through his slicked blond hair in frustration when a subtle scent reached his nose.

Wisps of fragrant pastries and other confections danced in the air, standing out against the usual perfume of damp fog and pollution. In a split decision, Arthur quickly began to follow the scent.

It was only after five minutes of walking did a rose-shaped, white sign hanging off a two-story apartment come into his view. In a hand-painted, feminine font it read “Blooming Confections.”

A small bell went off above his head as he entered, and he nearly ran into a group of giggling schoolgirls, each with a freshly baked biscuit in hand. Arthur narrowed his eyebrows at them and then took in his surroundings; his eyes widened as he did.

The room was well lit and seemed to emanate a warm welcoming glow that bounced off its cream-coloured walls. A few people sat conversing peacefully; they all had gentle smiles on their faces as they enjoyed whichever treat they had ordered. The smell of delicate pastries and sweetbreads swirled in harmony with the scent of brewed coffee and the faintest traces of the herbs hanging to dry over the front counter. Arthur stood in awe. How had he never heard of this little slice of heaven before?

Arthur heard a door close. A man in a polo shirt and navy apron came out from the back to stand behind the cash register. He wiped flour-covered hands on a cloth before flicking it onto his shoulder and looking up. The cashier’s chestnut eyes met Arthur’s hazel ones.

“Welcome to Blooming Confections. How can we help you today?”

Arthur stared, and he stared, and he said nothing. A single spiral of brunette curls rested just off-center of the cashier’s forehead. The light from the window to their right created the illusion of a copper halo framing his head. The man quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head ever so slightly. Arthur cleared his throat and forced his attention to the chalkboard menu behind the cashier, as though he hadn’t decided his order yet.

Which was not true. Arthur needed two loaves of white bread and nothing more.

It had been a ritual of sorts ever since he had turned sixteen and gained the ability to travel on his own. Every second Friday, Arthur would wake up, be served breakfast by the family servants, and then ignore whatever tasks his father may have set upon him to go downtown and fetch some groceries; included in those groceries were always two loaves of white bread. However, that bit of information had been replaced with all kinds of thoughts about the cute cashier in front of him.

By God, this man was adorable.

“First time?” Arthur’s attention snapped back to the other man as his cheeks flushed at the man’s words. He must have misheard him. This stranger couldn’t be implying such a thing in public, could he? The cashier simply smiled at him patiently. “It can be overwhelming. I mean, there are seven kinds of bread and four of them look the same. How’s a bloke supposed to tell them apart?” The man turned to a display case to the left of him attached to the front counter, and Arthur’s shoulder slumped in a mix of relief and embarrassment at the clarification. “That is if you’re here for bread. Could I interest you in a white or brown loaf?” He gestured to where the two sat in the case, “Though you could always be looking for sweets. We’ve all kinds, so just take a look, see what you like and let me know when you’re ready.”

Arthur stuffed his hands in his pockets and stiffly nodded. He had officially decided that no, he would not be leaving with just two loaves of bread. That would mean that this experience would be over much too quickly. He didn’t even know the cashier’s name yet. “I’m afraid that I can’t quite make up my mind. Any recommendations, sir?” He tried to ask politely.

The man scoffed slightly. “No need to call me sir. I’m Charles. My mother, Rose Davies, and I run this bakery.” Charles’s chin rose slightly and stared at Arthur as though daring him to mock the statement. Arthur quirked an eyebrow at his defensive state.

In hopes of getting the man to ease up, Arthur offered him a smile. “Then I must compliment you on the fine establishment you run, Mr. Davies. I’m Arthur, by the way. Arthur Howell.”

Arthur could only watch as the baker’s eyes widened at the surname and he took note of the expensive suit that Arthur wore. Arthur had no doubt that Charles realized exactly who the man in front of him was; the Arthur Howell, son of Anita and Edmund Howell and, therefore, heir of Howell Corporation. The conglomerate business was hugely successful, though his father held the reputation of a cold shark who did what he pleased without regard towards others. As a result, those in the lower classes, his father’s victims more often than not, tended to hold disdain towards the Howell name.

The young Howell tensed and prepared himself to be insulted or shouted at, but found himself pleasantly surprised as the baker merely grinned at him. “Thank you, Mr. Howell. Now, what can I help you with?”

Arthur was shocked to find a ball of warmth growing within him at the stranger’s acceptance and distracted himself by kneeling in front of the display case. “Did you help bake these?”

Charles nodded, “I bake the first batch of everything in the morning before Mum takes over. I’d rather be in the kitchen all day, but she claims that it’s better for business if I’m at the front counter. Never quite understood what she meant by that.”

Arthur knew; she meant that her son was fit and that those school girls he had run into on the way in were probably here to get a peek at the cashier’s toned biceps more than anything else. Mrs. Rose Davies was a very smart woman.

Charles shook his head and looked back at Arthur, “But you had asked about recommendations, yes?” Arthur nodded as Charles leaned onto the top of the display case to see what was all there. “Well, I personally love the banana muffins. They’re not too sweet, but just enough to end any cravings. They were my favourite when I was a kid, but I haven’t tried any in a little bit. Ever since I started baking regularly, I’ve kind of formed a disdain for all sweets. I’ll have some from time to time, but otherwise-” He trailed off as he met Arthur’s stare and blushed. “Oh Lord, I’m rambling. Sorry.”

Arthur shrugged, “No worries. I’ll take one of the muffins as well as two loaves of white bread.” He chuckled at the man as he thought over what had been said. “A baker that doesn’t enjoy the things that he bakes?” Charles paused for a moment, as he carefully placed the food into paper bags, then nodded. Arthur laughed; a rich deep sound that seemed to draw Charles’s gaze. “You really are special, Mr. Davies, you know that?”

The baker frowned as he led Arthur to the register. “Not really. Sugar simply grows tiring when you’re around it all day. That’s all.” He punched the information into the machine and cranked the side handle until a ding was heard. “That’ll be twenty-six pence, please.”

Arthur gave him half a pound and held up a hand when Charles went to fetch the change. “Keep it. This is an amazing establishment you have here. Your service was excellent.”

Charles blinked at him as Arthur began to collect his bags. “Sir, that’s nearly double your total. I really can’t accept this much.”

Without taking the change Arthur began to walk away from the counter. “And yet, I insist.” He grinned playfully at the confused baker. “I’ll see you again, Mr. Davies.”

“Al-Alright then. Come again!” Charles called out almost unsure but could do nothing more as Arthur left the building much more satisfied than he had entered

****HOPE YOU ENJOYED OKAY BYE - B****

[bitters-enthusiast]

birthday fic but belated

@timmys-and-scribbles i love you and i am sorry in advance if this is long and cheesy but

1. that’s julian and

2. that’s just showbiz babey

happy belated birthday bestie i hope you enjoy

“No, you don’t understand! Please, I’ll-- I’ll beg on my knees if I have to!”

Julian could be seen, and probably heard, from a block away pleading a poor man operating a gondola on the canal, and it didn’t look much like the man was giving in to him either. 

The man shook his head, planting his hands on his hips. “You-- you don’t have to get on your knees. But I still can’t do it, I’m sorry. It’s too short notice.”

The sob that came from the redhead next was anything but subtle, and he shoved his face in his hands. “Please. Please, sir, everyone else has cancelled on me. Don’t you want to be the minority?? Wouldn’t that be a more interesting story for you?? Please, I’ll pay double, I just need this ride tonight. It doesn’t have to be all night, even just an hour if I could--”

The gondola rower rolled his eyes. The dramatics were a bit much, but Julian had good selling points. “Fine! Fine, if it means you’ll leave me alone and I can get back to work, I’ll do it for double.” 

Julian almost screamed in excitement, and grabbed the man by his shoulders. He gave him a little shake, beaming a smile from ear to ear. “Thank you! Thank you, you’ve saved me. Thank you. I’ll see you in a few hours!”

--

After having shaken this man nearly to death, Julian decided it was time to start grocery shopping. If he was going to plan the perfect dinner for his perfect partner in crime, he wanted to have the perfect ingredients. After all, a pirate couldn’t ask someone to court him if he didn’t at least offer food and drink. . . right? 

He didn’t want to stress about it. This day was already a long time coming, but every time he thought he’d worked up the courage, he found it all lost again when Julianne teased him, or plotted with him another sneaky escapade. This woman definitely, without realizing, always kept him on his toes. And he wanted to return the favor, at least for tonight. Besides, a fun date never hurt anybody, even if he didn’t wind up asking her to be his girlfriend. 

The doctor spent about an hour or so shopping around for a dinner worth remembering. It took some time thinking of recipes he knew from the top of his head, but he settled on something fond from his childhood. Something Mazelinka almost always made, and almost everyone always liked it: soup. You couldn’t go wrong with a perfect soup dish paired with bread. Plus, looking for fresh ingredients and bartering with the merchants kept his mind off of the pent up anxiety he was feeling about everything. At least a dinner he was making by himself couldn’t be cancelled last minute. 

He’d finally settled on everything he needed, and was beginning to head back to the ship. He was carelessly swinging his bags back and forth, whistling a merry little tune to keep him in high spirits. 

The high spirits lasted all of five minutes to keep his mind off his worries.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Julianne, speaking to a familiar baker about eating some lunch. She was ordering some food when she caught him out of the corner of her eye, and excitedly called him over. 

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

She wouldn’t notice the bags, right? Of course she’d notice the bags. But he could just pass it off as stuff for the crew! Or maybe he could just pretend as if he didn’t see her--

Of course he couldn’t do that. 

Awkwardly, he put his arms behind his back, the bags hanging over them. He gave a strange smile and headed toward Juli, giving a head nod of acknowledgement. 

“Heyyyyyyyy... how are, uh-- whatcha up to?”

The woman raised a brow, a smile on her lips as she had just finished joking with the baker. “I’m........ ordering food. Why are you being weird?”

Uh oh.

Julian gave a dismissive ‘psh”, his face turning into an expression of confusion. “I’m not being weird. You’re weird for asking that, Juli. Anyway, what’s on the menu? What’s, uh, what’s for lunch?”

Julianne immediately knew something was up, but she wouldn’t press him about it until later. For now, she’d give him a bit of a hard time about it to see if he’d spill. “Food. Looks like,” she leaned over a bit, just a small part of his groceries in view, “you also have food on the menu.”

He leaned the opposite way, trying to make the bags less noticeable from her angle. “Oh. Oh! These, right. Yeah, Cap sent me out for errands today. You know those men, uh, always hungry! Yeah, can’t go forever without snacking, even if there’s only four of them on ship!”

A small laugh came from Juli. Yeah, she’d have to find out later. “Right. Well, I have to go eat before I go back to my own errands. Would you like to join?”

Why’d she have to be so sweet?? It made him all the more nervous, and he wasn’t being a very convincing actor at the moment. “Oh, I wish I could, darling! But Cap has been on my ass this morning about staying on task! We all know how, um, fleeting time is! I’ve gotta go, don’t worry about me, I’ll see you later on board, right?”

Her eyebrow still raised, she adjusted her own bag and nodded. “Ri--”

“Okay! Perfect! Amazing, and even perfect, you could say. Oh. Wait, I said perfect twice. Anyway, farewell! See you tonight.”

Juli watched as Julian walked away backward, still trying to hide his groceries. As he finally got further away, he tried turning away quickly to take off running, but accidentally bumped into a busy woman passing by. He apologized promptly and profusely, making sure she was at least okay before taking off again. 

Yeah, he was up to something.

--

It finally had gotten darker outside, the sun setting as Julian strode back toward the boat. After a few hours, he had prepared dinner, finalized the gondola plans, and had even set up an nice surprise afterward to make sure everything was picture perfect. As if he hadn’t used the word ‘perfect’ to describe what he was going for all day. With his hands in his pockets, he’d finally settled down on his way back toward the ship, fairly confident in how the night would go.. at least for now. 

As he got closer to his familiar home of sorts, excited to meet Julianne and to get the night started after all this planning he’d done, Julian stops aboard the ramp of the ship, watching as Juli was mid-conversation with his crewmate and co-captain, Gerard.

Damn it. Here we go.

Forcing a smile, he stepped closer to hear their conversation.

A hearty laugh came from the crewmate, one that sounded incredibly devious to Julian’s desperate ears. “He really lied to your face like that, Miss Juli? Ah, you know I’d never treat you that way~”

Shut up. Shut up, Gerry. Not tonight.

Julianne would have been seen to smirk, rolling her eyes. “It’s not that he lied maliciously. I’ll still get him back for lying. But I know he’s doing something behind my back. I’m just confused as to what it is.”

Gerard leaned back against the rail of the ship, giving a nonchalant shrug. “Still. You know, it’s taken him far too long to commit to you. Maybe it’s time you give the ol’ captain a try. I,” a puff of his chest, and he placed his hand upon his heart, “wouldn’t have made you wait this long for me to meet up after lying to you, maiden.”

It was taking everything in Julian to not barge into their conversation immediately. The confidence he’d built on the way back was slowly diminishing, but he’d wait a few more seconds to see where this conversation went. 

“Co-captain, Gerard.” Julianne shook her head in amusement, also taking a seat on a nearby barrel. Might as well make herself comfortable as she waited. “How would Zora feel if she heard you giving yourself all the credit?”

“Hopefully very, very awfully.” Gerard chuckled as he ran his fingers through his hair. “But my point remains. See how he still isn’t here? That just proves my--”

If Julian wasn’t known for dramatic entrances, then the sky wasn’t known to be blue. As if on cue, interrupting Gerard as he tried to make his “point” was easy as pie for Julian, and he climbed aboard with the biggest, most confident grin he could muster to save face. “Julianne, my love!” He greeted as if she were the biggest and most important guest he could ever serve, stepping between the two to swoop her into a hug. “I’m terribly sorry it took me so long to get back! I got caught in a scuffle between two men arguing, and you know I can’t resist a good fight.” The last lines were said between almost-gritted teeth, and Julianne pulled away from his hug reluctantly.

Like her expression was before at the marketplace, she had her eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Is that so? They didn’t happen to also be the ones to eat your snacks, were they?”

Gerard chuckled from behind, making himself comfortable both physically and in conversation. “I’d say Ilyushka has a bit of a hole to dig himself out of here, hmm?”

Begrudgingly, Julian turned to look at Gerard with the same forced smile. 

“Don’t you have a hole to dig yourself into, co-captain? Go find some buried treasure.”

A laugh from the man, as well as a clever reply, “Ah, but why would I go search for one when there’s one perfectly right before my eyes?” He flashed a smile in Julianne’s direction, and then gave an innocent, seemingly curious head tilt to Julian. “Oh, unless you couldn’t see that for yourself. It seems that eyepatch gets in the way of you looking past yourself and seeing what’s in front of you.”

The smirk began to fall from the redhead’s face, and he tried not to ball up a fist onto his friend right about now. In the end, he knew Gerry was teasing, but it didn’t make the blow less hard on his ego.

Julianne wasn’t naive to the tension; she started to make off-topic conversation. “I think Gerard is talking about the wine that Zora brought back after making a deal with the bartender down the street. Something about bringing back some of that Salty Bitters stuff from Vesuvia that you like so much. He wanted to advertise something new.”  

“Right. The wine is the treasure I was talking about.” A final chuckle from Gerard and he stood, clapping a hand against Julian’s shoulder. “Save me some dessert, Ilya. You know where my room is. Send her my way.”

“Bye, Gerry. Have a good night.” Julian pulled away slightly, looking his friend up and down.

Gerard gave a hum of triumph, and pulled his hand away. On his way toward the steps downstairs, he gave a final “You know I will.” in reply.

Once he was finally out of view, Julian deemed it safe to turn back to Juli for conversation. “I am.... so, so sorry, Juli. I know you’ve been waiting for a while.”

“I know you heard the conversation with Gerard.” She replied, placing her hands upon his shoulders. “I’ve been here for a whole of ten minutes. You know how he is. Dramatic.”

He gave a soft scoff in return, rolling his eyes. “More than I am sometimes.”

With a laugh, Julianne pulled her hands away, but not before giving him a gentle pat to the face. “Not quite.” Getting up from the seat she’d made herself, she patted down the dirt that’d gotten on her dress from doing so. “Anyway, are you finally done acting weird, or are you going to keep me on my toes.”

“Well.......” Julian gave a shrug, “Hopefully the latter. But not in a bad way, I swear. I do.”

The woman only gave him a pointed glare in response. In defense, he gently took hold of her hand, and began to lead her off the ship.

“Here. Just follow me.”

--

The doctor had finally gotten Juli all to himself. After all the shenanigans of the day, he could finally wind down and listen to her talk about her day. Her errands, odd customers, the odds and ends of magic that he enjoyed listening to her go on and on about. It was what gave him some sense of normalcy among the absurdity that he endured on the regular. The gondola ride had gone smoothly, and he had definitely given the rower far more than he was worth. If not just for the theatrics and the experience, he hoped that Juli enjoyed it. Maybe she’d grown suspicious of him throughout the day, but he wanted to make it up to her.

They talked about a woman who’d called Julianne in to help cleanse her home, not knowing the “cleanse” wasn’t anything spiritual -- it was because the woman had attempted far too many cleaning spells and caused an overgrowth in weeds in her garden and magic cobwebs in her corners. Julianne had to explain that “cleansing” a house didn’t actually mean to clean it.

How cute. How cute, how cute. 

An hour or so had gone by, and after their ride, they both thanked the rower tremendously. They’d even gotten a complimentary bottle of wine and a basket of fruit -- or maybe the rower was being kind since Julian had paid him so handsomely. 

Then, he took Julianne back toward the shore. 

He had taken hold of her hand and not let go, leading her down the beach close to the docks their ship had stopped on. He was sure she probably thought something odd was going to happen by the end of the night, but he wanted to make sure she enjoyed her time nonetheless. 

As they walked, he made soft conversation.

“You know, the ocean is a view I could never get sick of. It’s so beautiful. And when the moonlight hits it just right--” he gave a chef’s kiss of sorts with his free hand.

“I guess that’s a good thing, considering you’re on a ship the majority of your time.” Juli teased, giving him a gentle nudge. “But I think so too. It’s very captivating. Calming, even.”

“Like you, hmm?” Turning his gaze from the ocean to Juli, he gave a wink. 

With a fond roll of her eyes, she laughed a little. “You’re still being weird.”

“What? No. This is just regular ol’ Ilya.”

“Yeah. Weird.”

He grinned in turn, a grin full of absolute adoration. It was getting easier to rebuild that confidence from earlier. 

They continued their playful banter, all the way up until hey reached a hidden little cove, a tucked away cave of sorts, with a light shining from within. They were far away enough now that the lamps in town seemed like blur now, and Julian preferred it that way for what he had been planning. 

Julianne stopped, looking up at her partner with a confused expression. “What’s this?”

He let go of her hand, make sure he didn’t seem as if he were coming off maliciously. They had met, after all, under the guise that he was a murderer on the run. Julian offered one of his grins, the sweet kind, the kind that made you want to follow him into the unknown on an adventure you wouldn’t want to return from. 

“Just dinner. You trust me, right? You don’t still think I’m a weirdo?”

“Well. I definitely do.” 

A laugh came from Julian, and he just shook his head. He continued forward into the cave, giving her a nod to follow. 

She did, and as they entered, a small table Julian had stolen off the ship was sitting in the middle of the cave, lit candles surrounding it in the sand below to keep light inside. On the table sat dinner: two bowls covered to stay warm, bread on either side of them, a great big glass of wine in the center of the table, and two glasses for one each. 

With a great big swoop of his arm, he gestured toward the set up with a smile.

“Well, here’s the thing I was acting strange about. I just wanted... to set up something nice for the both of us.”

After her jaw had dropped at the initial shock, Juli turned to the man with a growing smile, and she genuinely looked impressed. “I’m surprised you could keep a secret this long.” Although she teased, she found his dinner setup rather charming. Nothing short of the extravagance he made for himself since the day she met him. 

He continued forward once more, pulling one of the chairs out for her to sit. Once she was seated, he also took a seat, and began to pour them each a glass of wine to drink. 

“Also, I stole this wine. This is the one Zora brought back, and Gerard is probably looking for now. Serves him right trying to steal my thunder.”

The woman laughs, reaching for her glass once it’s filled. “They’re going to kill you.”

He shrugged yet again, his signature smirk puling at his lips. “Worth it, if not just for the thrill of the escape.”

As Julian reached to uncover the bowls, a warm, earthy and flavorful aroma takes over the cave, and he explains his escapade to gather ingredients. Making the food proved to be a pain, having to bribe the ship’s cook to let him take over the kitchen to prepare their food, and to help him set everything up while he was out on the gondola ride with Julianne. He talked about how he now owed the cook kitchen duty for a week, and had to scrub the inside of the old hearth to make up for it. But it was worth it for him, to see how much she enjoyed his childhood favorite food. All the more memories to create, even if it was just soup.

Throughout dinner, it seemed as though Julian had about finished off the bottle of wine by himself. He was getting a little tipsy, and a bit more nervous toward the end of them eating. If only he had more liquid courage to help him out.

Julianne noticed how awkward he’d begun to get as dinner went on. When they finally cleared their bowls, he started going on about the importance of the correct shoes in acting. Something was up. 

She reached for his hands, which were getting ready to pour the last few drops of alcohol into his glass.

“Ilya, tell me what’s the matter.” Her voice was soft compared to his big, velvety tone. He couldn’t help himself, not in this state of mind.

“I- no, nothing’s the matter! I’m just saying, how can you frolic about in a tunic and boots? Sure they look great for the aesthetic and for the costume, but you need the smaller and more rounded shoes to move around the stage more fleetly.”

“You’re talking about shoes, Julian, after we just had a nice dinner in a fancy set up in a remote cave.” She laughed a little at the situation, and gave his hands a little squeeze. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

She was right. And he knew that she was. He hadn’t spent all day preparing for this moment to talk about how quick your movements need to be on stage. He had put all of this off long enough. Hell, for months. He was surprised she’d even stuck around that long, unless she thought this was all totally platonic. 

“Yeah. Yes. Yes, there-- there is something I have on my mind.” He let out a slow sigh, mentally preparing himself for his little speech. He knew that she would listen to every word, even if he slurred and stuttered his way through it. Her touch gave him a bit of sobering up, and in turn, he moved his hands to grab hers instead, leaning in closer to her presence.

“I.. hm. I’ve known you for quite a while now. And, for some reason, it feels like I’ve known you far longer than the several months we’ve been adventuring together. I don’t even know if that’s what you’d call it-- never mind. Regardless, darling, it feels like I’ve known you longer than a lifetime. Like I’ve known you since a life too distant to remember. And you... Julianne, you just seem so familiar. You met me thinking that I was a murderer. A fugitive. And even then, even after you thought I was using you, you stuck. You stuck with me. Up until then, I struggled so hard to find something like home. You gave me a chance, and I can tell you haven’t regretted it thus far. I just... don’t ever want to have to just remember you again. I want you to stick around. You’re perfect to be around. My perfect adventuring find. My... my perfect partner. We’ve never made any official call for what this is, and... I know this is all so ridiculous and grandiose and seems like some sort of proposal. In... in a way, it is. I just--” he lets his head fall, and he takes a pause, before he looked back up into Julianne’s face. “Please, little dove, would you give a pirate a chance and just call yourself mine already?”

...

Julianne, flustered, and unsure of how to respond in the immediate moment, searched Julian’s eyes for his genuine feelings. It was a long search -- after all, he’d just poured his onto the table, practically. This wasn’t at all a surprise, they had in fact been in some rut of infatuation without ever having admitted it to one another. It was always just implied. But here they were now, Julian basking in all of his monologuing glory...

Before she could respond, he was quick to make a joke, giving her hands a squeeze as she did his before he had come clean. “Plus, now I’m less likely to get in trouble for starting a fight with Gerard, seeing as how we’d be an official couple rather than just flirting, fleeting friends.”

Julianne shook her head, letting it fall as she let out a laugh. “You... are quite simply the most unbearable person I’ve ever met. In the best way possible.” Looking back up, he simply gave a friendly and teasing shrug in response, and she leaned in to seal the space between them with a kiss.

It wasn’t long before it grew passionate, one full of longing and hope from both of them. It would be hard for Julian to pull away, had he not been wait for a response. Before he let the kiss get carried away, he pulled back, a hand pressed to Juli’s face. 

“So?”

She looked him in the eyes, lifted a hand toward his face, and promptly gave him a flick to the nose.

“Ow!?” His brow furrowed, “What was that for??”

“For lying to my face earlier. I just needed you to know I didn’t forget.”

A huffy laugh came from the redhead as he reached to rub at his nose, now stinging slightly in pain. “Alright. Noted.”

She offered a final, soft smile, reaching to gently swipe her thumb over his nose in comfort. The woman then reached in for a soft peck. “I’ll be your girlfriend, Ilya. Or rather, your co-captain.” 

Julian beamed taking her face into both of his hands. “Oh, I’m so glad. As co-captain, can your first duty be to teach me an adjective other than ‘perfect’? I’m a doctor, not a novelist.”

“Sure. But only if you teach me one rather than ‘weird’,” Juli offered in reply.

“Good, good. But uh, can we wait until after dessert?”

“Didn’t Gerard ask you to save him some?”

“Oh, no. Gerry can starve. I’m sneaking dessert back into my room.”