#I’ve been bracing for rejection for so so long it’s terrifying to reach out. about anything

[overcaffeinated-aro]

I got an email from my grandpa today and all the draft responses I’ve been working on in my head sound like an 18th century letter that’s going to have to travel for months to reach him.

pandemic year 5 really has me feeling like me and a very small handful of people I know are living on an entirely different plane of existence than everyone else

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Okay so here's a lil' prompt for you

How about some rough foreplay between a jealous Geralt and Jaskier being all "fucking finally you dumb sack of potatoes"

my darling nonie, thank you for your patience, im sorry it took me so long to get my writing vibes back, but we're finally back in business!

Warnings: horny, lil bitey/manhandle-y but nothing past netflix canon consistent roughness, grumpy dumb geralt and jaskier doing his best to get him to use words, lol and swearing.

_________________

“You don’t scare me, Geralt,” Jaskier huffed, leaning back against the footboard of Geralt’s bed. They’d been sitting on the floor by the fire in his room for hours now, enjoying the warmth and reveling in the rest that the last few weeks of winter provided. Geralt, of course, had been getting a little antsy, ready to pack up and go, but also reluctant. So of course he had expressed this by being a bit of an asshole.

“I don’t want you scared…” he grumbled, picking at a hangnail and feeling a little bit like an idiot. He couldn’t exactly tell Jaskier how he wanted him, and that was probably the most frustrating thing on his mind that night. No matter what, he was going to keep the bard around as long as Jaskier would suffer his foul moods and emotional illiteracy. But it hurt to have him so close but so far out of his reach and he was constantly angry with himself for continuing to want.

“Then how do you want me? Hm?” Jaskier asked, flailing his arms about, expressing nearly as much frustration as Geralt felt, “Are you looking for a fight? Someone to hold your hand? Would you like me tied up instead? For fucks sake Geralt just fucking spit it out.”

Clenching his jaw, Geralt growled as he did his best not to picture his best friend tied up and desperate for him, “No.”

Jaskier got up on his knees and shuffled a little closer to where Geralt was leaning against the opposite wall, looking something like a praying monk, “Mellitelle, Geralt. I don’t think I can get it through your thick skull that I will absolutely not run and hide or abandon you if you tell me what you’re thinking. Even if it’s uncomfortable. Especially if it’s uncomfortable.”

As Geralt tried to find a way out of the corner he’d backed himself into with words satisfactory to the bard, he made the mistake of glancing at him. Jaskier looked like a romanticized painting in the firelight. His hair glowed in an orangish warmth and the low golden tones made his blue eyes sparkle even in the fading light. It really wasn’t fair. How the hell was Geralt supposed to say anything other than what he truly wanted?

Fear. Fear of rejection, or worse, of Jaskier, thinking it was some ridiculous joke and laughing him off like that couldn’t possibly be what has Geralt so worked up. That was plenty to keep Geralt from telling him exactly what he felt and thought. So he stayed quiet.

“You absolute-” Jaskier grumbled, almost to himself before starting in on a lecture, with animated hands and everything, “Here I am, quite literally on my fucking knees asking you to tell me what’s bothering you - which appears to be about me, so I think I have a right to know- and you just fucking look at me. What the ever-loving fuck makes you think I’m shivering my ass off in this haunted keep for, not getting laid in a warm castle - or even by your brothers down the hall- for anything other than a pathetic devotion to your grumpy ass?! Are you blind? Are you really so self-loathing? Do you just not care? For fuck’s sake, Geralt. Tell me so I can make it better because I’m not allowed to make the leap here! I’m not a sorceress! I can’t just probe your mind to-”

Geralt lunged, not a single thought in his head, just a frustrated need to tell Jaskier what he meant and an inability to do so with words. ‘The first leap..’ Fuck he hoped he’d read that right. If years traveling with the bard and constantly unraveling his riddles was anything to go by, he absolutely had. But the chance of rejection still hung in the air and pushed him near the edge of tears.

His hands gripped the front of Jaskier’s chemise and yanked him closer, so he was almost hovering over Geralt, and he recklessly mashed their lips together. Jaskier had to brace himself on Geralt’s shoulder and for a moment the witcher was terrified he was being pushed away. He was about to let go and quite literally tuck tail and run when Jaskier’s other hand laced its way through the hair at the back of his neck and tilted his head for him, deepening their kiss and adding a little intent to the passion.

Geralt groaned and hauled Jaskier up with him as he clambered to his knees, only breaking the kiss out of necessity but sealing their lips together whenever he could. He’d been given permission. After years of wanting and wishing and guilt-ridden fantasy, he could finally taste what he’d been longing for and self-restraint was rather hard to come by. So he didn't bother.

He crushed Jaskier to himself, needing to know this was real, not just one of his many dreams. In turn, Jaskier hooked one leg around his hips, an awkward position for the two of them standing on their knees on the cold stone floor, but it spurred Geralt on nonetheless. He lifted one knee so the bard was practically sitting on his thigh and rose to stand, kissing and sucking dark red marks on the bard’s jawline and neck. Without a second thought, he used his momentum to slam Jaskier against the wall, trapping him against his own body. Exactly where he wanted him. The bard let loose a soft grunt on impact but dug his nails into Geralt’s back regardless.

“Sorry,” Geralt murmured before leaving a set of angry red crescent teeth marks on the bard’s exposed collar bone.

“None of that, I’m in heaven,” Jaskier gasped, rolling his hips against Geralt as he rested his head back against the wall, “Fucking finally.”

Geralt made a confused grunt, not entirely too concerned with the conversation as he worked on untucking Jaskier’s shirt, clumsily and forcefully yanking it over his head.

“You thick sack of potatoes, I’ve been flirting with you for years. Fucking claim me already,” Jaskier gasped, gripping Geralt’s hair and pulling him back to him in a punishing kiss.

If there’s one thing Geralt was good at, it was following orders. And he followed this particular order with hitherto unmatched enthusiasm, in Jaskier’s words, “going above and beyond the call of duty.”

[skiller0dani]

Pogue on Pogue | JJ Maybank

M A S T E R L I S T Outer Banks Masterlist

smut requests info w.c | 8.9k summary | you and jj are together, despite both being pogues. You knew you’d have to hide your relationship from the rest of the pogues, and what makes it worse? John B is your twin brother.

The bonfire was lit, the stars were out, there were stolen kook beers, and yet you still didn’t feel like partying. You knew sooner or later Kiara or Pope would come bother you about it, and that your twin brother, John B, would call you a drag. The night air had a slight chill to it, but that didn’t stop drunk college kids on their Spring break from jumping into the ocean. You sat on the porch of the Chateau, a beer in your palm. Luckily nobody bothered you, seeing as only the pogues are allowed inside the Chateau. Your eyes settled on your boyfriend, who was currently talking to a group of slightly drunk female tourists. You knew he was trying to keep up appearances, the rest of the pogues didn’t know you and JJ were together. If they saw him blow off hot girls, they’d definitely know something was up. So as much as it stung to do so, you gave him the okay to flirt with them a little. You knew JJ wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was doing what you told him to. But you can guess that those tourists aren’t virgins, and would totally be down to fuck JJ. You however are a virgin, and somehow JJ has lasted 4 weeks without sex. You can’t help but feel insecure about the fact that your boyfriend is used to getting sex whenever he wants, and now because of you he can’t. You feel like his ‘ball and chain’ so to speak. Despite him reassuring you that he’s fine with waiting for you, it still eats at you. Especially when you see him flirting with other girls, is he thinking about having sex with them?

“What’s up with you? You’ve been weird all night.” Kiara said as she sat on the porch steps next to you. You were bracing for when one of them would come talk to you. You smiled with a shrug.

“Not in the party mood I guess.” You say dismissively, and you know instantly that she doesn’t buy it for a second. One glance and Kiara knows that something is really bothering you, and you wished you could tell her about it. But she would tell John B, and then John would punch JJ. You don’t want to come in between their friendship, and you know your brother won’t be okay with you and JJ.

“Liar.” Is all she says, leaning back with a raised brow. You lift your beer to your lips, avoiding eye contact.

“You think JJ’s gonna score tonight?” Kiara asks, a teasing tone to her voice. Before you and JJ got together, everyone would make bets on whether or not JJ would get laid that night.

“I bet he will.” She says again, laughing lightly at herself. When she doesn’t hear you laughing with her, she turns her gaze towards you. It’s silly, but you feel your heart constricting in your chest. If JJ had it his way he would probably screw one of those stupid girls pushing their cleavage out so he’ll look. He probably has.

“I bet he won’t.” You say finally, trying to keep the emotion out of your voice. You don’t risk sparing a glance at her just in case she’s looking at you. One look in your teary eyes and she’ll know immediately. You watch with burning eyes as the girl to JJ’s left leans in closer to press her lips against his neck. Feeling emotion swell in your chest you stand from the porch step.

“Don’t feel good, gonna lay down.” Is all you manage before the first tear falls and you’re pushing into the Chateau. Moments after the door shuts, JJ is gently pushing the girl off of him with a nervous chuckle, his eyes briefly catching Kiara’s. Her eyebrows furrow, why would JJ turn her down? Glancing back to where you were previously sat, it clicks. Kiara’s eyes widen, you and JJ are so dating. Kiara stands with a triumphant smile on her face as she takes the empty seat left by the girl JJ rejected.

“Could’ve sworn you were gonna bone her JJ.” Kiara says casually, and JJ shifts uncomfortably.

“Not the right mood I guess.” He laughs nervously, fixing his hat.

“Why? Afraid of upsetting your girlfriend?” Kiara says it so casually and so quickly that JJ doesn’t really think about it until after the fateful words leave his mouth.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“So you do have a girlfriend! Who is it?” Kiara whispers excitedly, leaning closer to JJ.

“Nobody, I don’t have one Kie.” JJ says, backtracking immediately. But the look in Kiara’s face tells JJ it’s too late for that. Shit.

“Is it Y/N?” Her eyes read JJ’s face intently, trying to find any sort of giveaway because she knows JJ isn’t going to budge on this subject. Normally JJ is pretty forthcoming with information, sometimes sharing details the other pogues do not want to hear, but he’s being pretty tight-lipped about this.

“No! Of course not!” JJ says too quickly, his voice also having raised an octave. Kiara tries to hide her smirk and leans back towards the fire, a casual look on her face.

“Well I hope not, because Y/N is inside the Chateau crying.”

“What? Why?” JJ’s head snaps up to look into the Chateau, ignoring the victorious look on Kiara’s face. He knows going inside will give you guys away, at least to Kiara. So he sits there, in front of that fire, for all of 5 minutes before he’s standing from the log he’s sat on. He can’t get it out of his head, you’re crying. Why are you crying? Did he do something wrong? Did he take the flirting too far? He was only doing it a little, just like you said. The anxiety turning in his gut is enough for him to take off his hat to run his fingers nervously through his hair.

“I knew it!” Kiara says victoriously, JJ rolls his eyes.

“Shut up Kie, and don’t tell John B!” He calls over his shoulder as he skips up the Chateau steps. Sure enough, as soon as he passes the threshold of the front door he can hear soft crying coming from one of the bedrooms. JJ wrings his hands together, he’s never really been in a relationship before and he’s terrified of fucking it up.

“Baby? You in here?” JJ asks softly, leaning against the wall next to your bedroom door. He hears the crying stop and it feels like his heart is breaking. You slowly open the door and the sight of your tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes has him cupping your cheeks.

“What’s the matter?” His voice is soft and concerned, it brings a new wave of tears to your eyes. You press yourself into his chest, your arms wrapping around his torso as you hear him kick the door shut with his foot. JJ sits on your bed, pulling you to stand between his legs. His hands are still cupping your cheeks and you see concern in his eyes.

“Baby please talk to me, if I did something wrong just tell me.” JJ nearly pleads, and you shake your head, your hands falling to his shoulders.

“Doesn’t it bother you that I’m not ready to have sex?” You asked, your voice shaky. JJ swiped away a falling tear with his thumb before shaking his head.

“No baby it doesn’t. I want to wait for you, you’re the girl of my dreams. I’ve had it bad for you for as long as I can remember. Now I finally have you, and I’m willing to wait as long as it takes.” JJ says, looking directly into your eyes.

“But you’re used to having sex regularly JJ, I feel like an ankle weight-”

“No Y/N. What are you even saying? You’re not my ankle weight. I am used to having sex regularly, but with people I don’t really care about. You satisfy me in a way they never can, I will wait for you because I want to wait for you.” JJ says again, a serious look in his eyes as his hands force you to look at him.

“Do you think about doing it...with other girls?” You can’t help but ask him, even though you know what he’s going to say. You just need to hear him say it.

“Never, and I never will.” JJ says firmly, his hands rubbing circles onto your lower back. You nod, feeling your heart rate calm and the tears come to a stop. You feel JJ wind his arms around your waist, pulling you flush with him. Your fingers brush through his hair, and you feel him smile against your tummy. JJ tries not to feel disheartened when you doubt his dedication to you so often, but at the same time he can’t really blame you. The entire time you’ve known JJ, you’ve never seen him commit to anybody. But that’s because he’s never wanted to commit to anyone, until he started dating you. You want to have sex with JJ, but you have no idea what’s holding you back. Maybe you should just start slow, really slow.

“JJ?” You take a step back from him, his hands falling away from your hips. He turns his gaze up to you, watching you curiously as you turn your bedside lamp on. You reach for the hem of your shirt, feeling your heart practically pounding in your throat as you pull it up and over your head. JJ’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of you in your bra.

“What’re you doing baby? I-I’m okay with waiting.” His voice is distracted, and he can’t tear his eyes off your chest.

“I know, and I’ll be ready soon. First I-I want you to see me. So I can just get it over with.” Your cheeks are heated as you stand shirtless before him. From the way JJ’s eyes are drinking in any exposed skin, you feel like you’re naked when you’ve only taken off your shirt. JJ nods, leaning back against his palms.

“O-Okay.” He swallows thickly, doing his best to stay composed. You’re just so damn beautiful. You reach for your shorts, quickly pushing them down your legs leaving you in your underwear and bra before him. JJ sucks in a heavy breath, his eyes tailing down your hips to your legs. JJ curses himself when he feels a certain appendage hardening in his shorts, now is not the time. He doesn't want to scare you away. You trust JJ with your life, I mean he literally shielded you from gunshots with his body. You couldn’t imagine doing this for anybody else, you can’t imagine losing your virginity to anybody else. It’s always been JJ.

“You’re beautiful baby.” JJ breathes when he notices your hesitation. You feel some of the nerves leave you then, but you still feel like you could faint at any moment. You close your eyes to steel your nerves as you reach back to unclip your bra and let it fall to the floor. When JJ groans softly you feel your entire body heat up and a jolt go straight between your legs. JJ almost can’t believe how lucky he is, every inch of you is absolutely stunning.

“God, your tits are perfect baby.” JJ groans, his pupils blown wide as he lets his eyes drink in the newly exposed skin. Gradually, JJ’s shorts are growing tighter and tighter- it’s getting hard to stay composed. You’re driving him to the brink of insanity, you really expect him to watch you strip naked in front of him and do nothing about it? He’s definitely gonna have to rub one out in the shower after this. You smile shyly as your cheeks burn red at his words of praise. You feel your palms shaking as you hook your fingers into your underwear. After this last piece of clothing, you’ll be completely naked in front of JJ.

“It’s alright baby, just take your time.” JJ says, his voice soft and reassuring. You feel your heart racing faster and faster, that’s when JJ’s hands cover yours.

“Do you want me to? I mean cause I can, if that’ll be easier.” JJ says and you nod instantly, you want to show him all of you but you can’t seem to stop shaking. If it was left up to you, you’d spend the rest of the night contemplating it. You step forward into JJ’s open arms, your eyes squeeze shut when you feel him begin to slide your panties down your legs. By now, JJ has a heartbeat in his pants, and he’s so hard it’s becoming sort of painful. He’s not bashful about his hard on though, it’s not the first time you’ll have caught him with one. JJ takes a deep breath to try and hold onto his last shred of sanity as he helps you carefully step out of your panties so he can toss them aside. His eyes meet yours to send you a little wink before his eyes start to trail south. Your trembling palms are holding tightly onto his shoulders, nobody has ever seen you naked before. Except for Kiara once on accident, but that was just Kie. No boy has ever seen you naked. Ever. When JJ’s eyes land on your pussy, he feels that last bit of sanity ooze out his ears and disappear. Everything about your body is so perfect and JJ can’t help the growl that escapes his lips upon seeing you completely naked for the first time. Sneakily, he also steals a glance at that perfect ass of yours without you knowing.

“Shit baby you’re killin me.” JJ groans, his hands on your hips as he gently pushes you to take a step back. You feel like your entire body is on fire when JJ looks at you, and you suddenly have no idea what you were so scared of. Clearly JJ thinks your body is beautiful, he’s said so. JJ’s eyes can’t stop trailing up and down your body, and he can’t decide what his favorite part is. Your perfect tits? Round ass? Or that beautiful pussy between your legs? JJ turns his gaze back up to meet yours, a small smile on his face. He reaches up to gently grasp at the back of your neck to tug you down for a kiss. His lips meet yours softly, moving slowly against your own.

“You’ve seen me...I wanna see you.” You mumble against his lips and you feel his breath catch in his throat. Sure, girls have seen JJ naked before but never in such an intimate setting. This is far more romantic than any other sexual encounter he’s had, and you guys aren’t even doing anything sexual. JJ presses another firm kiss to your lips before he’s standing from the bed, kicking his shoes off.

“Well? Sit your sexy little ass down.” JJ instructs, pointing at the bed. You blush with a giggle as you do what he says. You settle down on the bed where he just was, slowly feeling more comfortable being naked in his presence. God you love this man. The thought enters your mind before you can stop it. Your eyes widen, are you in love with JJ? You watch with excited eyes as JJ pulls his socks off, and you can’t help but giggle when his hand comes up to stop himself from falling over. JJ starts off easy, pulling his shirt over his head. You’ve seen him shirtless a thousand times. It’s when he reaches for the button of his shorts that you swallow a thick lump in your throat. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say JJ looks nervous. You feel excitement buzzing in your body when JJ unbuttons his shorts and kicks them off leaving him standing before you in his black boxer briefs.

“Are you ready? I don’t think you are.” JJ teases, earning himself a shy laugh from you. You’re so cute that JJ isn’t sure what to do with himself sometimes. Sending you one final wink and JJ is yanking his boxer briefs down, his erection bobbing up. JJ releases a soft sigh of relief as his cock is released, it was becoming pretty damn painful. Your eyes widen and you can’t look anywhere other than at his dick, which is way bigger than you were expecting. You see the blush dusting across his cheeks, and you swallow a lump in your throat.

“Holy shit.” Is all you can bring yourself to choke out, earning a smug smirk from JJ. In all honesty, JJ feels a little more exposed then he was expecting to. Every time he’s been naked in front of a girl, it’s because they were about to have sex. But never has he been naked solely for a girl to see him naked. It’s intimidating. JJ feels his cock throb when his eyes trail down your naked body again, he’s not going to last much longer. Blowing out a breath, JJ stoops down to grab your clothes, but he doesn’t miss the hurt flash in your eyes.

“Baby as much as I would love to admire your naked body for the rest of the night, I can’t hold myself back for much longer. So before I jizz in my pants can you please put some clothes back on?” JJ says, his voice strained. You can’t help the laugh as it bubbles up from your chest, reaching down to start putting your clothes back on. After your panties and bra have been slid back on, you steal another look at JJ who is just about to pull his boxers back up his legs. JJ has been incredibly sweet these last few weeks, he’s never pressured you to have sex with him and has been nothing but understanding and patient with you even though not having sex is hard for him. You want to repay him for how amazing he’s treated you, how perfect of a boyfriend he’s been.

“JJ? W-wait.” You stammer, reaching to grab his hand. JJ’s eyebrows raise as you push him to sit down on the bed before kneeling between his legs. Now the new view JJ has been blessed to see has him clenching his fists, you on your knees before him is almost too much for him.

“What are d-doing babe?” JJ tries to keep his voice from breaking, but when you slowly inch closer to his cock his voice catches in his throat.

“I-I wanted to thank you for being the best boyfriend I could have asked for. You’ve never made me feel bad about wanting to wait.”

“Baby I’d never pressure you to do something you didn’t want to. So you do not have to do this, I’m okay baby really.” JJ reassures you quickly, he doesn’t want to make you feel like you have to pleasure him just because he’s hard. His dick has a complete mind of it’s own and JJ can’t control when it gets hard.

“I want to, really I do!” You say instantly and JJ swallows thickly before he nods. He leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips before he’s leaning back up again.

“Have you ever done this before?” JJ asks, he knows you’re a virgin but that doesn’t mean you haven’t done other stuff. He’s silently praying you say no because if you say yes, he’s going to ask who and then he’s going to go beat the shit out of him. Only JJ gets to see you this way.

“N-no.” You stammer and JJ releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

“Thank God. I didn’t feel like beating someone to a pulp today.” He says, releasing a comically large breath. You laugh before playfully slapping his chest, JJ always knows how to make you feel safe and comfortable at all times. You have no idea how he does that. You place one dainty hand on his thigh, and JJ can practically taste the hesitancy coming from you.

“It’s easy baby, just go slow and don’t bite me.” JJ says soothingly, and you nod before scooting forward to take his cock in your hand. JJ hisses softly when you jerk him once, your eyes snapping up when you hear a low groan come from his chest. You lean forward to drag your tongue up the underside of his cock, and JJ moans softly. The sound sends waves of pleasure between your legs. You see a bead of precum at the tip and gently you swipe your thumb over it and JJ groans again.

“Doin’ good baby.” JJ praises, stroking a hand across your cheek. While his tone may be soft and gentle, the look in his eyes is less so. The lust in his gaze is enough to send heat all through your body, the way he’s looking at you is making you throb. You nervously lean up to take his cock into your mouth, and you suckle on the tip. JJ groans desperately, his head falling back as your tongue licks the underside of his head. This has to be the best damn blowjob he’s ever received. You slowly take his cock further into your mouth, your lips stretching wide around him. Your hand comes up to grab whatever you can’t fit in your mouth and JJ moans loudly.

“God damn baby, you sure you’ve never done this? You’re a fuckin’ natural.” JJ groans, his hands curling around the sheets of your bed. You continue to slide down as far as you can before you feel JJ harshly pulling on your hair. He pulls your head back and then gently pushes you back down before you get the hang of it. You bob your head on his cock, and when you look back up you see that JJ is nearly panting. Your slow pace is the most wonderful torture, you’re slowly edging him to orgasm.

“Fuck you look so beautiful on your knees.” JJ growls, his head tipping back up so he can look at you again. You look up at him through your lashes and JJ groans, his hand stroking your cheek again. You can tell he’s struggling to keep his eyes open, so when you accidentally hollow your cheeks you see his eyes flutter shut. So you do it again. JJ reaches down to yank your hand up and instantly you massage his balls in your hand, and soon JJ is squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

“Holy shit baby do not stop please.” JJ pleads, allowing himself to fall back against the bed as you tongue the underside of his cock again. You jerk with your hand what you can’t fit in your mouth and watching JJ slowly unravel above you brings you some form of sadistic happiness. Soon one of JJ’s shaky hands lands on your shoulder.

“I’m gonna cum baby, y-you sure you can take it all in your mouth?” He asks, his eyes looking desperate for relief. You nod instantly, you crave to feel him cum in your mouth. You continue to quickly suck him off, taking him as far into your mouth as you can before you feel one of JJ’s hands hold your head in place on his cock. You feel his body shudder before JJ is cumming in hot spurts down your throat and by the time you pull off of him, your thighs are slick with your arousal.

“Fuck baby.” JJ sighs happily, reaching down to pull you up and onto the bed next to him. His eyes are half lidded as he looks over at you, a happy smile spread across his face. You suddenly feel kind of shy even though you just had his cock in your mouth like 2 minutes ago. He leans up on his elbows and presses a kiss to your forehead before standing to find his clothes.

“You’re leaving?” You can’t hide the disappointment in your voice.

“Just to the living room baby. I’m so fucking tired and John B will kill me if he sees me in here with you.” JJ laughs nervously and as much as you hate it, he’s right. John B would probably punch JJ if he caught him in here with you. You feel a strange sense of pride upon realizing it was you that wore JJ out. You smile as he leans down to press a long hard kiss to your lips. JJ sends you a wink before checking that the coast is clear so he can slip out into the hallway.

//

“John B is going to kill JJ, you know that right?” Pope said as you made your way to the HMS Pogue, where your brother was patching a hole in the bottom. You forced Pope to accompany you as you told John B about you and JJ, just in case he went after JJ. You nearly had to tie your boyfriend up to prevent him from joining you, and while you love that he wants to be here- it’s safer for him if he isn’t.

“No, because you won’t let him. Right?” You ask, turning to look at Pope with an eyebrow raised. Pope sighed, he knew this was a bad idea. A really bad idea, but luckily you managed to convince JJ to stay in the Chateau. You seemed to be the only person who could tame JJ, and the only person who could talk sense into him.

“Right.” Pope agrees as you two finally stop behind John B, who is crouched in the HMS Pogue. You swallow a nervous lump in your throat, only opening your mouth to speak when Pope encouragingly elbows you.

“Heya Johnny.” You say happily, using a nickname John B only lets you use. John B turns with a suspicious glint in his eyes, that feeling only being confirmed further when he sees Pope standing next to you.

“What is it?” He asks, and you know there’s no point in delaying the inevitable.

“There’s something I should probably tell you.” You sigh, sitting on the edge of the boat next to him. John B leans back from you, almost as if he’s bracing for whatever you’re about to say. His eyes flicker to Pope again.

“I swear to God if you got my sister pregnant-”

“Ew no! Pope is just here for...protection.” You say carefully, watching confusion dawn on John B’s face. Pope’s face scrunches up.

“Protection? You scared of me?” You see genuine concern in his eyes so you quickly shake your head.

“No! No of course not, just ignore him. You’ll understand why he’s here soon.” You say, mumbling the last part. John B sits, patiently waiting for you to say whatever you need to say.

“JJ and I… we’re dating-”

“I knew it. JJ is fucking dead.” John B snaps, already standing from the boat. Luckily you brought Pope with you because almost immediately Pope is placing his palms on John B’s chest.

“Stop and listen.” He says forcefully, shoving John B backwards lightly. Begrudgingly, John B sits back down next to you.

“You’re not allowed to be mad at JJ.” You say, watching as John B refuses to meet your eye. He is mad, and that’s completely unfair.

“He’s macking my sister. Not cool.” John B snaps, and you roll your eyes.

“I made the first move! You’re not allowed to be a jerk about this Johnny. I really care about JJ.” You say sincerely, finally drawing John B’s eyes to yours.

“Y/N, JJ is my best friend and I love him but it’s not you I’m worried about. I know you like JJ, and I know you’ll stay committed to him. I just don’t know if you can trust him not to break your heart. I don’t know if JJ will stay committed to you.” He says firmly, looking into your eyes. You know John B thinks JJ is going to cheat on you, but you don’t believe that for a second.

“He will, he cares about me Johnny.” You insist and John B rubs a hand down his face. John B knows that deep down JJ does care about you, and that he has every intention of being loyal to you. But at the end of the day he knows JJ, and he knows eventually JJ is bound to fuck up and make a really big mistake. One you won’t be able to forgive, and then what happens to the pogues when that happens? This is why there’s no pogue on pogue macking.

“Let me talk to JJ.” John B says, and you share a nervous look with Pope.

“Only if Pope is there to make sure you don’t punch him.” You say, crossing your arms firmly. After a moment of thinking, John B nods.

“Alright fine.” You watch the two of them stand and make their way into the Chateau, and you can only hope you don’t hear yelling soon.

“Hey John B.” JJ says nervously, throwing on a smile at the end once he sees John B come in through the front door. John B says nothing as he sits at the kitchen table, and he gestures to the chair next to him. JJ hesitantly lowers himself into the chair, watching with nervous eyes as Pope hovers behind John B. Just in case he lunges at JJ.

“My sister JJ?” John B groans after a few minutes of tense silence. JJ licks his lips nervously, keeping his eyes off John B.

“I swear it happened out of nowhere!” JJ says instantly, bracing for the moment that John B decides to take a swing at him.

“I promise I’m not going to hurt her.” JJ says after John B doesn’t say anything, and John B lifts his eyes to meet JJ’s.

“She really cares about you JJ. I’m not kidding, she’s really serious about you.” John B says, looking directly into JJ’s eyes. JJ can’t fight the small smile as it stretches across his face, you’re serious about him?

“She is?” He asks, and it’s just now that John B sees the genuine joy on JJ’s face.

“Yeah man, I could see it when she told me. She will be devastated if you screw this up, you’ll mess her up JJ.” John B snaps, wanting more than anything to protect you from getting hurt. That’s why he told you not to ever date JJ, and yet here we are.

“I’m not going to screw this up John B, I would never hurt her. I’m just as serious about her as she is about me.” JJ snaps, feeling frustrating bubbling in his chest.

“Good.” John B says, standing from the table. The tense look has left his face, but he still doesn’t look very happy.

“Oh and JJ?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell me if you sleep with Y/N, I don’t want to know.” He says, wincing uncomfortably. JJ gives him a thumbs up, not looking back as John B exits the Chateau.

//

Soon enough the next pogue party was in full swing at the boneyard, and this time you were most definitely in the partying mood. You tilted your beer bottle back, watching your boyfriend play hacky sack with Pope. It was nice to finally be public about your relationship with JJ, you don’t have to suffer through watching JJ flirt with other girls anymore. For the first few days after you told him, John B all but ignored JJ. He was slowly starting to come around, you knew he couldn’t be mad forever. The bonfire was tall, and from across the fire you could feel Rafe’s eyes on you. Rife paid a lot of unwanted attention to you, although you’re pretty sure it’s only because he wants to annoy John B. Like he wants to give John B the ultimate ‘screw you’, by sleeping with you. You can only hope he doesn’t say or do anything tonight because if he does, JJ is going to go ballistic.

“Nice swimsuit.” Almost as if on cue, you hear Rafe’s voice to your right and you sigh.

“Thanks.” You say dismissively, trying your best to get him to leave before John B or JJ notice. Rafe sits down next to you, too close for comfort. You hold your breath as you subtly tuck your legs a little closer to your body. Rafe either doesn’t care that you’re inching away from him or he hasn’t noticed.

“Need another drink?” Your beer is just about empty, and you could use another drunk. But you wouldn’t trust anything Rafe gets for you, you’d never drink it.

“No that’s okay, I’ll just have JJ get me one later.” You say with a smile, noticing the tense smile cross onto Rafe’s face.

“I can get you one now, no big deal.” Rafe stands up and takes a step towards the coolers when you speak up again.

“N-no Rafe it’s fine really. I don’t want to drink right now anyway.” You insist with a smile and Rafe shrugs, but he sits back down next to you. This time closer than he was before.

“Seen you hanging around JJ a lot lately, there a thing between you two?” Rafe asks, his tone tense and his posture almost threatening. Your eyes land on JJ again, who is further from the fire than last time you looked. He’s laughing with Pope and Kiara about something, thank God he hasn’t noticed Rafe yet.

“Yeah actually JJ is my boyfriend.” You say with a tight lipped smile. Rafe nods slowly, a far more irritated look on his face.

“Boyfriend. So you’ll date that pogue trash but won’t give me one chance?” Rafe’s tone is suddenly hostile, as is his body language. You swallow thickly, feeling very defensive of JJ.

“JJ isn’t trash, and I never gave you a chance Rafe because you’re an asshole.” You snap, moving to stand when you feel his hand curl around your upper arm tightly. You try to remain calm, but the urge to panic is growing stronger as Rafe keeps his hand curled around your arm.

“What is it about him Y/N? How on Earth is a piece of shit like JJ Maybank better than me? Does he fuck you good? Is that it?” Rafe hisses in your ear, his voice even which makes him sound more threatening.

“Rafe please let go.” You squeak, feeling him yank your back more flush to his chest.

“I’ll bet he fucks you nice and deep huh? Is that what you like most about him?” Rafe breathes against your neck as his head moves closer to you. Feeling like you’re going to have a panic attack, you try to pull away from Rafe again. When he doesn’t let you go you know what you have to do, even though it’s going to cause a scene.

“JJ!” You feel tears pushing at the backs of your eyes, Rafe’s grip only releasing lightly. From his spot a little ways from where you are, JJ hears your voice. When his gaze finds you, his fists curl and all he sees is red. In a few long strides, JJ is standing behind you two swinging his fist into Rafe’s right cheek. Rafe stumbles away from you, releasing his grip on your arm. You stand and immediately scramble behind JJ.

“Get your fucking hands off my girl Rafe.” JJ snaps, his eyes narrowed and his body language tense. One wrong move from Rafe will result in a violent outburst from JJ. Rafe wipes away the blood from his lip, smiling smugly at JJ. Rafe wanted to piss him off, and it worked.

“I dunno she seemed to be enjoying it.” Rafe shrugged and your eyes widened.

“Yeah? Then why did she call for me if she was enjoying your company so much?” JJ spat back, pacing around Rafe like a caged animal.

“Lets just say you might be used to her calling out your name in pleasure but don’t worry, that’ll change. Soon, she’ll be moaning my name.” Rafe smirks, and JJ lurches forward. In an instant your arms are curled around JJ’s chest, pulling against him as hard as you can. Unfortunately JJ towers over you, so it’s like trying to move a brick wall.

“Baby just forget it, he’s only trying to piss you off.” You say softly, still trying to pull JJ away from Rafe even though you’re not strong enough to move him. JJ’s eyes are locked onto Rafe, almost like a predator looking at its prey. His jaw is clenched, and so are his fists. Curled and ready to throw punches.

“Yeah JJ just forget it, I’ll make sure to fuck her so good she forgets all about you. I’ll fuck her so good the only thing she remembers is how my dick feels inside her.” Rafe says, clearly trying to egg JJ on. This time JJ is pushing out of your arms to punch Rafe again.

“Stop!” You yell as Rafe lands a hit on JJ’s left cheek. Suddenly John B is pushing through the crowd to yank JJ away from Rafe, positioning himself between the two. Topper comes behind Rafe to start pulling him away from the fight, while John B does the same with JJ.

“Go back to the Chateau, now.” John B snaps at JJ, who chucks his beer can at a fallen tree in anger. The beer can explodes open and sprays a few people before JJ is storming for the house, with you close behind.

“JJ?” You start cautiously, he’s a few steps ahead of you. JJ doesn’t respond, and from his quick pace and the way he keeps curling and uncurling his fists lets you know just how pissed off JJ is. He remains silent the entire way to the Chateau, and he slams the door open when he goes inside.

“JJ.” You say again as you follow him to your bedroom, and once inside he begins to pace back and forth. You can feel the anger practically radiating off of him.

“Let me see your arm.” JJ demands, and you quickly give him the arm Rafe was holding. There’s a slight bruise on your upper arm, and while it doesn’t hurt you can hear JJ growl under his breath.

“He fucking bruised you?” He seethes, his eyes flickering towards the door.

“Let it go, just forget it baby. Please.” You plead, placing your hands on his chest to stop him from moving. Even though you couldn’t actually stop him if he wanted to go somewhere, he was way stronger than you.

“How am I supposed to just forget it Y/N? Did you even hear what he was saying about you? I’m going to fucking kill him.” JJ nearly yells and you reach up to cup his cheeks in your hands.

“Because Rafe can say whatever he wants. The only name I will ever be moaning is yours JJ. The only person who has ever seen me naked is you, and nobody else will ever see me like that. You’re the only person who will get to have sex with me, Rafe can do nothing but dream.” You say softly, watching the anger begin to simmer out of his eyes.

“JJ you’re my first everything. First real relationship, first person to see me naked, my first love, and the man I’m going to give my virginity to. Rafe will never have any of those things, no matter how hard he tries.” You say, watching as an unreadable look crosses onto JJ’s face.

“You love me?” His eyebrows are furrowed, and the tension has left his shoulders by now. You swallow thickly before smiling up at him softly.

“Yeah, I love you JJ.” You whisper, hoping to God that he says it back. JJ looks stunned for a few seconds before a wide boyish grin splits across his face.

“I love you baby, so fucking much.” JJ breathes before his arms wind around your waist and he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is slow and passionate, his tongue immediately pressing past your parted lips. You mewl against his lips as his hand slides down your back to cup your ass. Your hands grab at his shoulders as JJ lifts you from the ground so that your legs can wind around his waist. He nips at your lower lip as he gently presses your back against your bedroom door. Your lips move languidly against him and when you feel heat simmering in your lower belly, you grind your hips against his.

“JJ,” you gasp as you pull back from him. JJ’s lips immediately latch onto your neck, sucking at the pulse point lightly drawing a moan from you. “I wanna do it now, I’m ready.” You gasp but your statement causes him to pause.

“You sure baby? We can wait-” He starts but you cut him off with a kiss.

“I love you JJ Maybank, and I don’t want to wait anymore. I wanna do it right now, please?” You lean closer to his ear, biting gently at his earlobe before you whisper one more thing.

“Make me yours.” JJ groans lowly before he presses his lips to yours again. JJ’s hands don’t know where to touch first, there’s so much uncharted skin for him to feel. He starts by pulling your bikini top off, revealing your bare breasts to him. He leans his head down to take a nipple in his mouth, and you whine softly. JJ lifts you more firmly again before walking you to the bed and laying you back on it. His mouth returns to your nipple, his other hand coming up to cup your other breast. He laves your nipple with his tongue before kissing across the expanse of your chest to give your other nipple the same attention. With his free hand, JJ snakes his arm down your body to pull your bikini bottoms off. He slides his hand down a little further and runs two of his fingers through your folds.

“Already so wet baby.” JJ groans against your skin, his mouth trailing kisses down your body as he moves down. He presses light kisses to your hip bones, causing your body to jolt and you to whine as you try to shift your hips towards his face. JJ smiles as he places light kisses along your upper thighs, drawing soft moans from your lips.

“Every sound you make is music to my ears.” JJ says, his voice even and collected. JJ was willing to wait as long as it took for you to feel comfortable, but he’d be lying if he said part of him wasn’t dying for this. You spread your thighs apart wider for him as he kisses all the way up to where you need him most. You wiggle your hips impatiently when he presses kisses around your clit, but never quite lands there.

“JJ please,” You beg, your firsts curling around the sheets as he smirks at you from between your legs. JJ hooks his arms around your thighs before yanking your body down, causing his mouth to collide with your pussy. His lips curl around your clit and you cry out, your back arching as your fingers wind into his hair. You’re whining loudly as his tongue laps at your clit, and licks long lines up your entrance.

“Oh my God that feels so good J,” you moan, nearly in tears from the amount of pleasure you feel already. JJ feels wave after wave heading straight for his cock, every time you moan or beg for him, it just takes him a little higher. He loves hearing how badly you need him. Gently JJ reaches a hand up, prodding a finger at your entrance. You whine nervously, fear shining in your eyes.

“Trust me baby, might pinch a little but I promise it’s gonna feel really good.” JJ says, waiting for your approval before he continues. You bite your lip and nod slowly, leaning your head back to relax your entire body. Carefully, JJ begins to push his pointer finger into your tight opening. It burns a little bit, and you squeeze your eyes shut when he gets to the knuckle and swiftly pushes past it. You cry out in pain a little, but JJ is right there to press loving kisses to your thighs and whisper reassuring words into your skin. You feel JJ slowly pull his finger out, and when he slides it back in you moan softly in pleasure. Your face slowly relaxes as your mouth falls into an ‘o’ shape, another moan pushing past your lips. JJ continues to slowly pump his finger into you, wrapping his lips around your clit once more.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful baby.” JJ whispers, his eyes shamelessly trailing up and down your body. JJ curls his finger inside you a little, watching as your back arches ever so slightly, and a soft moan tumbles past your lips.

“Gonna add another finger baby, just one more to stretch you a little for my cock.” JJ says softly, and sure enough he’s gently working another finger into you. You stretch a little more, the feeling causing a hiss of pain to emit from you. JJ presses soft kisses to your stomach as he pumps two fingers into you, and your fingers grasp at the sheets tightly.

“Oh God, I think I’m close J!” You cry out, your eyes squeezed shut and your head thrown back. JJ continues to pump his fingers into you at a steady pace, breathing softly against your skin and his eyes never leave yours. You moan a little louder when JJ’s mouth curls around your clit again and with one flick from his tongue, you’re cumming all over his face with a soft cry from your lips. JJ pulls back with the biggest, dumbest smile on his face before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Shit, you’re so fucking sexy.” JJ groans, leaning over you to press his lips against yours. You moan a little when you taste yourself on his lips before you’re tugging at his clothes. JJ leans back on his heels to yank his shirt over his head, followed by his swim trunks. Your mouth finds his again as your arms wind around his shoulders.

“D-do you have a condom?” You whisper and JJ offers a wink before he’s reaching over the edge of the bed for his shorts. He digs through the pockets before pulling out a condom in silver foil packaging. You feel your nerves building again, and you shy away from him. You turn your head to avoid looking at him, but he hooks a finger under your chin to turn your head.

“You’re fucking beautiful. You sure you’re ready for this?” He asks, concern in his eyes as he tries to study your face for any signs of you changing your mind.

“I’m ready JJ.” You whisper and he presses a kiss to your forehead before ripping open the condom wrapper. He reaches down to roll the condom down his pulsing shaft and you spread your legs under him, trying to get comfortable. You feel the head parting your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut when he stops.

“Try to relax okay? It’s gonna hurt so just tell me to stop if it’s too much.” JJ says, and you can hear the concern in his voice. You nod as you wrap your arms around his torso, releasing a deep breath to let your muscles relax fully. Gently, JJ begins to push into you and the burn is immediately intense. You whimper in pain, burying your face into his neck as he slowly works his cock into your tight heat. JJ is using every ounce of self control he has to not pound into you, the tightness of your cunt is suffocating.

“Holy shit, you’re fucking tight. Christ.” JJ groans, his forehead pressing against yours as he continues to slide inch by inch into you. Eventually JJ hits your hymen, but he doesn't move.

“Once I break your hymen, you’re not a virgin anymore and I will be the guy that popped your cherry. You okay with that?” JJ asks, and you marvel how coherently he’s speaking, you can barely think straight with his cock half inside you. You nod but JJ doesn’t move.

“Words please.” JJ won’t continue without verbal consent.

“Yes JJ, you’re the only person I ever want to have sex with. Please take my virginity J.” You gasp, hoping that the intense burning subsides soon. JJ winds his arms around your back tightly while pressing kisses against your neck, and with one sharp thrust he’s breaking your hymen and sliding the rest of the way into you. You gasp, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you press your face into JJ’s neck.

“You okay baby?” He gasps, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him is making him feel lightheaded. Being seated fully inside of you is almost too overwhelming, you’re so tight.

“J-Just give me a minute.” You gasp through tears, the pain is unbearable. But you grit your teeth and wait, and JJ doesn’t complain at all. He sits fully inside of you, using his arms to hold himself up, pressing gentle kisses into your neck until you’re ready.

“You’re so big JJ, fuck.” You gasp, feeling tingles shoot through you when he adjusted and slid out of you a few inches. You moan, and JJ groans softly at the sound.

“Please move JJ, slowly.” You say softly, and slowly JJ pulls his hips back before sliding all the way back in. You moan again, and JJ swears under his breath. JJ continues to thrust sweetly into you, being sure not to go too fast so that he doesn’t hurt you. Your eyes are squeezed shut as he moves inside you, and the feeling is downright heavenly, even with the little twinges of pain. You gasp and moan softly against him, loving the feeling of his breath against your neck. JJ’s eyes are squeezed shut as he feels you hugging his cock just right.

“Jesus baby, you feel so fucking good.” JJ praises and you moan softly, turning your head to press your lips against his. Your lips move against JJ’s, your nails leaving angry red claw marks down his back. You feel that coil winding tighter and tighter in your abdomen, and all you can do is cling desperately to JJ.

“I love you JJ.” You cry out, your body arching into his when his thumb rolls your clit. JJ speeds up a little bit, his tip ramming into your g-spot. JJ bent down to press a sweet kiss to your lips before he leans up over you, his hands on your hips.

“I love you baby,” JJ groans, his head tossing back as you clamp down around him. Before you even have time to warn him, you’re gushing around his cock, your body spasming as you cum. JJ pumps into you a few more times before you clench around him again and he cums, catching himself with one hand so he doesn’t fall on top of you when he cums into the condom. You’re panting as JJ gently pulls out of you, seeing you wince in pain. He throws the condom into the trash can before sliding into bed next to you. JJ opens his arms and pulls you against his chest, pressing a kiss against your head.

“So uh, how’d I do? I’ve never taken someone’s virginity before. Was it okay?” JJ asks, and you can hear the anxiety in his voice. You turn in his arms to press your lips against his.

“It was amazing, you were amazing baby.” You reassure, nuzzling his nose with yours before you’re eventually pulled to sleep.

//

The next morning, JJ decides to let you sleep in. You’re probably going to be sore anyway, and when he heads out to help John B with the boat, he ignores the look he gets from Kiara. The ‘you look like you had sex with John B’s sister last night’ look. JJ approaches the boat, and takes a wrench before moving to look at the engine. As the day goes on, the sun rises higher and higher and like JJ always does- he takes his shirt off when the heat becomes too much.

“JJ?” John B’s voice is tense, and JJ’s shoulder’s go rigid as he turns.

“What’s up John B?”

“What the hell happened to your back?” John B asks, although he unfortunately already knows the answer. JJ, who completely forgot about how you desperately clawed at his back last night, peeks over his shoulder and sees the nail marks all down his back.

“Well, uh-”

“I’m going to fucking kill you JJ!”

“I’m sorry! You said not to tell you and technically I didn't!”

[pftones3482]

One of the commissions I'm doing for @randomfandomfan ft Hurt/Comfort Adrinino. Find it on my AO3 here.

Set post Rocketear and pre any kind of romantic relationship (tho it's hinted at). This was already a fic I wanted to write, and one of the prompts they sent me fit the concept almost perfectly, so I ran with it.

Under a cut for length.

~~

“It’s your fault.”

Nino jumped about a foot in the air, whirling from where he’d been shutting his door with his phone pointed menacingly at the source of the voice. His backpack smacked him in the hip, knocking him off kilter, and he stumbled, bracing himself on the doorknob. His eyes scanned the room slowly, shoulders easing when he didn’t spot anyone. “Hello?”

“What are you, dense, kid?” scoffed the voice again, from right in front of him, and Nino squeaked at an embarrassing pitch when he registered the Kwami floating there.

The Kwami.

The Kwami.

A black cat Kwami.

Nino dropped his defensive (if somewhat undignified) stance, staring at what was definitely Chat Noir’s Kwami. “Um. You’re not supposed to be here.”

The cat’s eerily green eyes rolled. “Wow. Intelligent.”

Nino spluttered, feeling awkward. “W-Well I’m sorry, dude, how do you expect me to react!” he demanded, throwing his hands up in the air. Something like ice settled in his gut as the Kwami’s existence finally clicked. “W-Wait, why are you here? What happened?”

“You happened,” the Kwami snapped, and uh. Okay. Not what Nino wanted to hear right now.

“What?”

“YOU. Do you have any idea how much you upset him? How much you hurt him the other day? He won’t say it, Nino, but he’s hurting. He’s been hurting, and you unloaded on him and beat him and told him how awful he was and if you weren’t his best friend and I didn’t think you were the only one who could help right now, you’d be in a pile of rubble.”

Um.

Holy shit.

Nino had never heard a Kwami so pissed. Wayzz could get a little condescending sometimes, and Ladybug had admitted that her Kwami could be a little snarky (as could Trixx, as Alya had confirmed time and time again). But never had he seen a Kwami literally shaking in rage.

He’d be more terrified if the cat’s words weren’t sinking in.

“Hang on, hang on, dude,” Nino said, crossing his arms in an “x” through the air. “Is this about Rocketear? I apologized, I-I thought me and Chat were okay. Also like, I respect the guy, but he has no idea who I am, dude, we’re not best friends.”

“Had,” the cat spit out. “He had no idea who you were.”

Nino’s stomach swooped out from under him and he gripped his desk chair tightly to keep from tripping. “What?”

The Kwami gave him a smug, if not irritated, smile. “You told him yourself.”

“D-During…when I was fighting him?” Nino squeaked. “N-No, I saw the footage, I didn’t tell him I’m Carapace!”

The cat softened. “Before, Nino. Before you were akumatized.”

“I didn’t-”

“Of course, when Ladybug appears, he throws himself to her feet with roses and love confessions!”

Fuck.

“But he is always rejected, because Ladybug thinks that he’s annoying. And she is COMPLETELY right!”

Oh, fuck.

“I know because I’m also a superhero. I’m Carapace.”

“Shit.”

Nino fumbled for his desk chair, sinking into it hard and banging his elbow on the back. The pain was almost numbing. He put his head in his hand, pushing his hat back off his head and staring blankly at the wall.

“Oh my god, dude, I-?”

“Yeah.”

The Kwami sounded almost sad this time, and that, somehow, was worse than him threatening to kill Nino.

He didn’t really remember being akumatized, until the end, when Alya broke him from Shadowmoth’s hold. And despite warnings from his friends, he’d watched the footage from his akumatization. Even without Alya recording, someone usually was, and the footage was always online by the end of the day.

He knew what he’d done to Chat Noir.

He’d seen the way he dropped his baton, a sign of surrender. The way Rocketear hadn’t hesitated to push him back with everything he had, pounding him again and again and again into that van, how he’d grabbed him by the head and slammed him backwards like-

“Nino!”

The Kwami’s paw was gentle on his wrist and Nino shuddered, scrubbing at his eyes furiously and dislodging his glasses. “Oh my god, oh my god, where is he?” he choked out. “I-I need to find him right now, Kwami dude, I-I can’t believe I-”

“Plagg,” the Kwami offered, his scratchy voice easing Nino from his panic. “And it wasn’t you, kid.”

“B-But it was, that’s the worst part,” Nino whispered, standing and pacing now. “I hated him, I hated him so much I – oh my god, he tried to tell me.” He laughed, bitter, holding his hands together behind his head. “He tried to tell me Alya and Chat didn’t have a thing and I-”

“Nino,” Plagg interrupted. “He’s on the roof.”

Nino stopped, blinked at him. “He’s what.”

Plagg nodded upwards, his antenna bobbing. “On the roof. Been there every night for the last week.” His voice lowered. “He wanted to talk to you, but he’s too scared.”

“He’s on the…he’s on my roof?”

Nino scrambled around his room, grabbing a jacket and an extra hoodie before reaching out, snatching Plagg, and shoving him into his hat. He froze a millisecond later. “Um. Please don’t cataclysm me for that, dude.”

Plagg’s chuckle was more like a purr. “Please. As if I’d need to use all that on just you.”

Nino supposed he should be insulted, but with everything he now knew, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It was nearly one am – he’d been out late studying with Alya – so now he crept from his room and to the front door, hopeful not to wake his family. Grabbed his key off the hook by the entrance, and then eased the apartment door shut behind him.

It was only one flight up to the roof access, usually locked, but Nino had come up here with Alya more times than he could count, so he knew that if you wiggled the lock just right, it would come undone on it’s own. They’d oiled the hinges ages ago so that it didn’t scream every time it was opened, and now it was silent as Nino pushed it up and stared over the flat top.

Adrien was silhouetted in the moonlight, precariously close to the edge, and it made Nino’s breath hitch. He pushed the door all the way open and clambered up onto the roof as quietly as possible, easing the hatch shut again before turning back to his best friend and slumping.

Best friend.

God, how could he have-?

“You didn’t know,” Plagg whispered, gentler than Nino had expected him to be. The Kwami zipped from his hat, hovering in the air next to him, and he offered Nino a grim smile. “I might hate you a little right now for what you did to him, but you didn’t know, kid.”

Nino let out a shaky breath and started the trek over to his friend, fiddling with his extra sweatshirt. The night air was chill, and he was glad he’d brought it – Adrien was in nothing but short sleeves.

“All week, huh?” he murmured, watching as Adrien jumped a little, fingers tightening on the edge of the roof. “Could’ve just called, dude.”

Adrien twisted, lips parting. “How did you know I was-?”

His eyes landed on Plagg and a squeak slipped from his mouth as his hand shot to his shirt pocket. It wouldn’t have been funny if he hadn’t gone so pale.

So Plagg hadn’t told him he was telling Nino. Interesting.

“Y-You can’t-! You told-?”

“You’ve been here all week, Adrien,” Plagg snapped. “You weren’t gonna tell him, I was. You need a cheese in your corner.”

Nino had no idea what that meant, but he couldn’t stop staring long enough to care.

Adrien’s eyes were tired. There was no glint in them. The circles under his eyes were deep – he must’ve been wearing makeup to school, because Nino hadn’t seen them until now. His hands were trembling, his lips were bitten raw, and Nino felt his entire heart shatter.

“I am…so sorry,” he choked out, tears spilling over. Adrien jolted, turning his gaze from Plagg to him.

“Nino-”

“No, dude, no, I-I-I…I don’t care that I didn’t know. I should never have said those things, I should never have hurt you like that, oh my god dude, I hurt you so bad, I like could have killed you, a-a-and…”

He froze, reeling, and stumbled back. Adrien got to his feet warily, holding his hands up. “Nino?”

“You were gonna let me.”

He wanted it disproved, but Adrien’s flinch told him everything. His chest seized and Nino choked on his breath. “You were gonna let me, you would’ve fucking let me, you fucking asshole how could you? Do you have any fucking idea how much I care about you dude?”

He shoved Adrien without thinking, hands firm against his shoulders, pushing him back and away from the edge. Adrien’s eyes were wide, lip trembling, and Nino pushed him again, closer to the center of the roof, this time forcing the sweatshirt into his grasp. Adrien clung to it, lips parted, and Nino dragged his hands through his hair, pacing as Adrien shrugged the sweatshirt on. He’d left his hat downstairs, he registered somewhere in the back of his mind.

“Oh my god,” he choked out. “I-I…I’m so sorry dude. I’m so sorry, your dad, and then school, and modelling and your stupid model diet and then you’re a literal superhero and I’m supposed to be your best friend and I didn’t even…”

“You weren’t saying them about me,” Adrien whispered. “I know that.”

Nino spun to face him, vision blurry. “If you knew that you wouldn’t have been on my roof every night for the last week working up the nerve to talk to me. If you knew that you wouldn’t have thrown down your weapon and let me beat you to-”

He cut himself off with choked cry and he rushed at Adrien, clinging to him with a force he didn’t know he possessed. He cradled his friend’s head gently, heart sinking for a moment until he felt Adrien’s hands lift to settle tentatively on his back.

“I don’t hate you,” he whispered into Adrien’s ear. Nino swallowed, throat aching. “I don’t hate you, and I don’t hate Chat Noir. I was mad. A-And that’s not an excuse for what I said, and I’m so sorry. I’ve never hated Chat Noir, dude. He was always my favorite. I just…”

“You were upset,” Adrien finished, soft.

“Jumped to conclusions,” Nino corrected. “I was jealous of Alya keeping stuff from me, and I jumped to conclusions, and I hurt you, shit I-I hurt you, I-”

“I’m okay, Nino. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Nino croaked, tightening his grip. Something in him breathed easier when Adrien tightened his own back, harder, his shoulders starting to shake. “It’s not okay, I love you, dude. Don’t do that for me. Don’t ever stop fighting back when it’s your life at stake, I-I can’t…”

Adrien’s grip clenched in his hoodie and suddenly Nino’s neck was wet with tears. Nino carded his fingers through Adrien’s hair, turning his head just slightly to press his lips against his temple. “Talk to me, dude,” he whispered. “I’m here now, you don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore.”

“You can’t tell, Nino,” Adrien croaked. “I mean it, not even Alya. Y-You can’t. Promise me.”

“Hey.”

He pushed Adrien back, gentle, and cupped his cheeks, swiping away the tears on his skin. “I promise,” he said firmly, staring Adrien in the eyes to show he meant it. “This is too big to tell, dude.”

“You told me-”

“I trusted you,” Nino said, squeezing Adrien’s shoulders. “I was pissed, and I knew I trusted you more than anyone, and I knew you wouldn’t say anything. A-And I was wrong, dude. I shouldn’t have told Alya’s identity. Mine is one thing, but that wasn’t okay. But man, dude, you have it rough as it is, without anyone knowing you’re a superhero. I’m not telling, dude.”

Adrien swallowed, throat bobbing, and glanced behind Nino, where he presumed Plagg was floating. Plagg must have indicated something, because he slumped and gave a weak smile. “Thank you, Nino.”

Nino shook his head. “Don’t thank me. D-Don’t…not after that.”

Adrien’s hands were on his cheeks now, fingers freezing. “Hey. It wasn’t you. You might’ve been mad, but it wasn’t you. It was Shadowmoth amplifying those emotions, and you beat him. You beat him, Nino. I’m…so proud of you for that,” he whispered, voice cracking.

Nino pulled him in again, arms clinging to his back and his nose pressed into the hood of Adrien’s borrowed sweatshirt. “I’m proud of you too, dude,” he said. He felt Adrien’s grip tighten on his back. “No one ever says it. I’m proud of you. And I’m-”

“If you say sorry one more time,” Adrien croaked, laughter behind his tears, “I will personally dangle you off the Eiffel Tower by your shield.”

Nino chuckled and stepped back, tugging Adrien’s wrists gently. “Come inside,” he pleaded. “It’s cold out.”

Adrien glanced behind his shoulder, teeth worrying at his lip. “I should get home,” he said. “It’s late.”

“Then they won’t notice,” Nino said, pulling him a step further. “C’mon, dude. You’ve been by yourself for so long. I wanna hear about being Chat Noir.”

Adrien looked back to him, lips parted. The glint in his eyes was illuminated by the surrounding buildings, and something in Nino’s stomach twisted in a way he wasn’t going to question at the moment. “Really?”

“You kidding? Of course, dude.”

Adrien’s mouth slid into a tiny smile now, head tilting in that puppy-dog way only he could pull off. “Yeah. Y-Yeah, I’d like that. If you’re sure it’s-”

Nino knelt down and lifted the roof access cover, climbing onto the ladder and looking back up at Adrien with what he hoped was an inviting grin. “Dude. Just get inside already.”

Sneaking back in was harder than sneaking out, only because now he had another person in tow, but they managed to get back into his room without waking anyone (even after their quick excursion to the kitchen for a block of sharp cheddar, because Plagg was whiny). Nino shut off all the lights in his room except his desk lamp, leaving the soft glow to illuminate the corner and moving to his bed.

Adrien hesitated at the foot of it, fiddling with the sweatshirt strings on Nino’s hoodie (and Nino was ignoring how much he liked that image, that was something he could confront in the morning). “Um.”

Nino rolled his eyes and held out an arm. “Come cuddle, bro. And tell me about being the hottest bachelor in Paris.”

That got a snort from his friend, and Adrien crawled into the bed next to him, flopping against Nino’s side and leaning his head against his shoulder as Nino tucked an arm around him. “I thought I was the hottest bachelor in Paris.”

“Oh my god, you and your alter ego literally are competing for the same spot, that’s so fucking funny,” Nino cackled, keeping his voice low so he didn’t wake Chris next door.

Adrien chuckled and then fell quiet, and Nino traced a circle on his arm, feeling the mood shift. “Wanna talk about what’s been going on with you and Ladybug?”

“How did you-?”

“It’s pretty obvious when you’re working directly next to the two of you. And especially now that I know it’s my best bro behind the mask? What’s up?”

Adrien went still again, and then rolled over, pressing his face into Nino’s shoulder. “Can we talk about that tomorrow?” he mumbled. “I’d rather just…hang out, for now.”

Nino tightened his grip, focused on the ceiling, and tried to quell the racing thoughts in his mind. “Of course, dude. Of course.”

Adrien’s breathing evened out, and Nino had a feeling he probably wasn’t heading home anytime soon. He didn’t care, just shifted to put his phone and glasses on his nightstand and then rolled over to hold his friend closer, smiling thinly when he instantly clung back.

Plagg was curled up on the pillow above Adrien’s head, and his cat eyes blinked sleepily as he studied Nino. “Thanks, kid.”

Nino loosened a hand and reached up, scratching the cat on the head, fully prepared to lose a finger. To his surprise, Plagg just purred and nudged up into the touch. “Thanks for breaking the rules for him,” he whispered back. “I’m sorry I put both of you through that.”

“You’re a good kid, Nino,” Plagg said, yawning and curling his tail around himself. “Stupid, but good. Wayzz likes you for a reason.”

The Kwami went quiet and started snoring, leaving Nino to flush at the compliment, run his fingers through Adrien’s hair, and fall asleep with a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

[ibelongtowrath]

Three’s Company - Obey Me! Lucifer x Satan x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: When Lucifer and Satan accidentally switch bodies, they decide to stay in your room. A little unhealthy competition leads to the demons battling over who can fuck you better while they occupy the other demon's body...who's going to win? Rating: Explicit! 18+ NSFW Relationship: Lucifer x Reader, Satan x Reader, Lucifer x Satan x Reader Tags: threesome, oral sex, face-sitting, rough sex, vaginal sex, choking, spanking, hair pulling, vaginal fingering, rimming, fluff and smut, shameless smut, dialogue heavy Word Count: 6,919

PLEASE READ: Lucifer and Satan have switched bodies. After the jump when they're all at dinner and everything after that point, when Lucifer speaks/does something, he is doing so from inside of Satan's body, and vice versa.

I originally was going to label them as Satan (Lucifer) and Lucifer (Satan), but a friend brought up a good point: regardless of which body they currently possess, Lucifer is Lucifer and Satan is Satan. Therefore, I kept their names associated to whatever action/dialogue they're doing.

I tried to sprinkle reminders throughout via physical descriptions and some of the dialogue. I hope it's not too confusing!

Special shout out to @pridecomesbeforethefall​ and @shirothequeen​ for encouraging me when I first posted the idea to write this in the Obey Me! tags. I hope you enjoy!

An hour earlier…

“No, I’m not going to make a pact with you,” you declare firmly, eyes holding steady in Satan’s skewering gaze. The tension visibly escalates, and books are starting to hover in the air, like weapons aiming to strike.

“Excuse me?” thunders Satan, fury etched in his voice. “You’re just a lowly human. How dare you reject me when I  offer  to make a pact with you? I’ll hurt you-”

“That’s enough, Satan.” Lucifer’s voice booms from behind you. “You will do no harm to Diavolo’s exchange student.”

The hostility escalates even further with Lucifer’s arrival. Books are now flying across the room. You duck, barely avoiding getting smacked in the face by a particularly heavy one.

“Stay out of this, Lucifer,” Satan explodes.

“You’re better than this,” Lucifer chides his younger brother, shaking his head. “Don’t give in to your wrath.”

Satan clearly doesn’t like that, as the books begin to fly even  faster  all around. You cover your head with your arms, but you can’t help except to watch the two brothers in the middle of their explosive altercation.

One book in particular flies past Lucifer, and he studies it with a curious look on his face. Satan notices the book at the same time, and they both reach out to grab it. As they place their hands on its cover simultaneously, a white light suddenly bursts through the room.

You yelp, the force knocking me onto the floor, but thankfully you’re not hurt. You sit up on the heels of your hands, and your jaw drops as you take in what just happened.

About an hour later, in the dining room at dinnertime...

“We’re going to be staying in Y/N’s room for the time being, until the spell wears off,” Lucifer declares, glaring directly at his former body, which is now being possessed by his younger brother Satan. 

It was almost laughable, if not for how absurd it was. The two demons who hate each other the most, the avatars of pride and wrath, are currently possessing the other’s body temporarily.

And, thus, we all ended up affected by the situation.

“Why my room?” you ask, incredulous. “Can’t you two share one of your rooms?”

“Absolutely not,” both Satan and Lucifer answer at the same time, shooting daggers at one another.

“We decided we’re forbidden from entering into the other person’s room at all,” Lucifer answers me.

“They can’t stay in my room. If anything happened to my precious figures, I’d be heated!” exclaims Levi. “Although, I wouldn’t mind watching the drama unfold! I’d have my popcorn ready!”

“Beel doesn’t want anybody sleeping in Belphie’s bed, I refuse to stay with Mammon, and as for Asmo...well, I’d rather not know what he does in that room,” Lucifer continues. Asmo only laughs at that, not denying anything. “So, therefore, your room is the only option, Y/N.”

“Wait, what?!” Mammon exclaims. “Only I should be allowed-”

“This is not up for discussion,” Lucifer interjects. His caustic stare instantly silences Mammon.

Even when he’s in someone else’s body, Lucifer is still terrifying.

Satan glances over in disdain. “That stupid glare and tone of voice don’t suit me at all. Maybe you should loosen up a bit while you’re in my body.”

Lucifer crosses his arms, unamused by Satan’s commentary.

“Let’s leave. We still have much to discuss...now.”

Satan rolls his eyes, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “Fine.”

The dining room settles into a heavy silence, everyone watching as both demons stand from the table and move towards the exit. They begin fighting in the hall, the muted argument unable to conceal the annoyance in their voices.

Once they’re finally out of earshot, Mammon, Beel, Asmo and Levi swing their heads to look at you. Levi begins typing furiously on his phone, no doubt already making a post about it.

“Can we go back to eating now?” Beel asks, already stuffing his face with roasted bat. His voice is muffled by his full mouth.

You stare down at your plate, your food hardly touched. You push it towards Beel, knowing he’ll gladly eat the leftovers. You stand up and push your chair in, everyone’s eyes darting towards you.

“Goodnight, everyone,” you declare, moving towards the exit.

“You’re leavin’ already, Y/N?” Mammon asks, grabbing your arm. “Okay, I’ll walk ya to your room.”

“Wait for me! I’ll come too.” Asmo pushes his chair in and rushes to follow you out of the room.

You square your shoulders, fighting to hide your visible annoyance. It’s been nothing but insane circumstance after circumstance since you’ve been summoned to the Devildom, and you wonder when you’ll ever be able to get a break.

Well, at least it’s not boring, you muse.

You walk through the House of Lamentation towards your bedroom, Asmo and Mammon trailing you and chattering happily. Your cheerful trio - well, let’s be honest, only two of you are actually feeling cheerful - finally reaches the door, and you brace yourself for what you might find inside as you place your hand on the knob, turning it slowly.

The door creaks open and you step inside cautiously, feeling relieved to find everything in its proper place, untouched by Satan’s wrath. The only things inside the room that are certainly out of place are Lucifer and Satan themselves. Satan’s body, currently occupied by Lucifer, sits at your desk, studying a book so intensely, like it’s the most interesting book in the entire Devildom. Lucifer’s body, occupied by Satan, is perched on your bed, glowering at the floor.

You actually can’t help but giggle, unable to control yourself. The absurdity of the situation actually  is  pretty funny.

Mammon laughs with you, clapping a hand on your arm. “I’ve never seen Lucifer so reserved before...this is freakin’ awesome!” he exclaims, walking towards the desk where Lucifer is sitting.

Asmo sits down next to Satan on the bed, placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling.

Lucifer turns around, finally moving his eyes from the book. His fierce stare lands on Mammon, studying him as he moves closer to where he’s sitting.

“I just realized something,” Mammon continues, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. “Since Lucifer’s in Satan’s body and all...you’re not nearly as strong as you are in your own body. I’m the stronger one. How’s that feel? Ha!”

“I understand why Y/N is here, as this is her bedroom,” the Avatar of Pride says cooly, ignoring Mammon, “but why are Mammon and Asmodeus  also here?”

“I, uh, well, I...I wanted to make sure Y/N got back to her room safely and everything,” stammers Mammon, blushing.

“Out. Now.”

Mammon holds his hands up, backing away. “Okay, okay. You got it.”

Lucifer follows Asmo and Mammon to the door. Mammon stands in the doorway, casting a quick glance at you before Lucifer shuts it, pointing in your direction.

“Oi! You two better not hurt Y/N, or think that you can get all snuggly with her just cause you’re in her room! If I see you moved one tiny hair on her body I’m gonna-”

Mammon’s voice is cut off by the door slamming loudly in his face, followed by a yelp and a curse.

Lucifer turns around slowly. He crosses the room to where you’re standing on the other side. He places his arm on his chest, bowing his head slightly.

“Y/N, I apologize for the inconvenience. The spell should be reversed within a few days. Rest assured that I am hugely indebted to you, and will pay you back tenfold,” Lucifer tells you. “Satan, as well.”

“You’re the one that got us into this mess,” retorts Satan. “Paying her back is all your responsibility.”

“Maybe, if you were able to properly control yourself and not give in to your  wrath -”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have had to unleash my wrath if you didn’t interrupt!”

“Satan, you were-”

For fuck’s sake.

“Okay, I’m going to take a shower and get changed in the bathroom. When I come out, I’d like some peace and quiet,” you declare over the din of their argument. 

Neither demon acknowledges you. You roll your eyes, sigh, and retreat into the bathroom, relishing the sound of the shower turning on that drowns out everything else.

You step into the shower, letting the scalding water pour over you. You lather your favorite lavender-scented shampoo into your hair, breathing in the relaxing scent. You know this will be a scarce moment of peace, so you try to enjoy it as long as possible...because as soon as you step back out into the room, you’ll no doubt have to mediate.

Throwing on your comfy t-shirt and sleeping shorts, you dry your hair with a towel. It hangs in loose, dark waves down your back. You put some product in it and, with a heavy sigh, open the bathroom door and step out into the room.

The scene in front of you nearly knocks you onto the floor again. You clap your hand over your mouth and grab the bathroom door frame to hold yourself up, trying to prevent your jaw from falling to the ground.

“Please!” Lucifer laughs, pointing at the younger demon currently possessing his former body. “I am  exceptionally  better-looking, and more muscular too. Maybe if you put more care into your appearance-”

“You must be on something if you think that way, Luci,” Satan bites back. “Look at me. The succubi  love  my beautiful blonde hair and green eyes. And my body is just as nice as yours, actually...I’m  much more attractive.”

Both demons are half-naked, shirts and jackets discarded onto your floor. The two of them are standing around your room, inspecting each other’s appearance. You can’t help your eyes from dropping down to gaze at the well-defined, taut muscles of their chests and abdomens. Each one sports an impressively long torso and six-pack. Their pants hang  dangerously  low on their hips, the tantalizing v-lines drawing your eyes lower, lower…

With impeccable timing, the two demons turn towards the bathroom, finally noticing you nearly hyperventilating in the doorway.

“Y/N!” Satan and Lucifer shout at the same time.

“Perfect timing!” muses Lucifer. “You can decide for us.”

“Who’s the more attractive demon? Obviously it’s me...in my usual body, not in  Lucifer’s of course,” Satan chimes in.

You remove your hand from your mouth and lean against the doorway, trying to steady your breathing.

Do they really have to ask me that right now?

“U-um, well...I-I...you’re both very attractive,” you stammer. 

Your face can’t hide your embarrassment any longer, and suddenly you feel like it’s on fire. You can feel the furious crimson blush blazing across.

Lucifer laughs. “Ha! Surely you would favor one of us over the other. There’s no need to be so kind. Tell us the truth.”

“W-well, it's hard to make an objective decision when you’re both shirtless and assaulting my senses all at the same time.”

“Shall we put our clothes back on then, hm?” Lucifer asks you, raising an eyebrow.

“No!” you exclaim. “I-I mean...you can if you want to…”

“You’re too intimidating, Lucifer,” Satan chimes in, sitting back on the bed. “She clearly thinks it’s me, but is too scared of your reaction if she said so.”

“Right now, I’m mostly thinking about how I’m going to be able to sleep peacefully with two constantly fighting demon brothers who accidentally switched bodies,” you quip, gaining some of your composure back.

Again, neither demon acknowledges you, instead continuing to bicker endlessly. You sigh in defeat, reaching for the water bottle on your desk. You sip the cool liquid and watch the demons continue their ridiculous arguments, exasperated.

“I’ll do you one better, Luci.” Satan spits the nickname, as though it’s a disgusting taste in his mouth. “I can  totally  outperform you in bed, even in your own body.”

You splutter and cough furiously upon hearing that, choking on the water. The liquid spills out onto your shirt as you struggle. Satan and Lucifer don’t even turn their heads in your direction.

“How naive,” retorts Lucifer, shaking his head. “Lest you forget, I’m the oldest. I have the most experience.”

“You’re too uptight. And your head is so far up Diavolo’s ass, you’ve probably forgotten how to fuck. Unless you do it with-”

“That’s enough,” booms Lucifer. “I can charm anyone I choose. I just have more important things to focus on lately,” he adds, with a pointed look.

“Ha! I’d like to see that,” laughs Satan

Instead of dignifying his brother with a response, Lucifer turns his eyes towards you, studying you carefully. You feel yourself shrink a bit in the burn of his gaze. The intensity is so severe, it feels as though he’s a predator, and you’re the prey he’s ready to ambush.

“Y/N.” He says your name gently, the tender note in his voice bizarrely mismatched with the fire in his eyes.

You swallow, nervous to answer.

“...Yes?”

“Come here.”

You walk over slowly, unsure of what he wants. Satan watches you carefully from his perch on the bed, equally as curious.

You approach Lucifer, standing directly in front of him. He is handsome, equally as handsome as Satan, but their majesty is different. 

Whereas Lucifer is more of dominating beauty, with searing red eyes, Satan’s emerald green eyes, flecked with gold and turquoise, shine beautifully. You stare into them, mesmerized. His blonde hair falls messily into his eyes, tempting you to reach up and brush the strands away so you can fall in deeper. It’s easy to forget that Lucifer is actually inside Satan’s body right now.

Suddenly, Lucifer reaches a hand out, lightly touching your face. His hand slowly trails down over your jaw, down the curve of your neck. His velvety touch traces the dainty skin of your collarbone, dancing ever lower, lower...stopping right above your breast. You feel your breath hitch. Goosebumps dart across your skin, betraying your calm demeanor. Your heart flutters in your chest.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Y/N?” Lucifer murmurs, his voice dripping with honey. He moves his hand back up to your face, repeating the gentle strokes over and over again.

You don’t answer. Your mouth feels glued shut, and your feet are anchored to the floor. Giving in to the desire, you feel an insatiable need stirring within. The blood buzzes loudly in your ears, and the room suddenly feels as though it just got ten degrees warmer.

“Okay, I take it back. I guess you are kind of charming,” Satan chuckles. “Then again, you’re in my body, so it’s pretty much effortless.”

His voice slams you back to reality. You suddenly realized that sexy maneuver was just a performance, to prove a point to his brother. You shake your head, completely embarrassed at yourself for being so naive. 

But I wanted it...I wanted it so badly.

“Oh? Disappointed, are you? Thinking it’s just for show?” you hear Lucifer coo, placing his hand under your chin. He tilts your head gently, forcing your eyes to meet with the beautiful emerald gaze of his own. 

The arousal coursing through your veins nearly leaves you breathless. You can feel your legs shaking a bit, and you steady, trying to compose yourself.

“It doesn’t have to be, darling,” Lucifer continues, leaning in closer. Your heart races, as though he’s behind the wheel and revving the engine.

This time, his hand reaches out to touch your face. He caresses your lips with his thumb, gentle strokes over the soft skin. You’re helpless to stop the pleasure igniting between your legs, completely turned on. Your nipples harden, barely covered beneath the thin material of your sleeping shirt. You silently curse yourself at how easily you let yourself fall into this.

You step back, refusing to let him see you sweat. Your legs feel like jelly. You’re frustrated that he wants to play this game with you just to prove a point to the real Satan.

Lucifer chuckles, looking you up and down. “You’re only hurting yourself by denying it, my love,” he says. His gaze settles on your chest. 

“You can fool yourself, but your body betrays you. This turns you on.”

You look down at your breasts. Sure enough, your nipples are practically poking through the flimsy material of your t-shirt.

Lucifer steps towards you again. At the same time, you feel Satan at your back, running his hands up and down your arms. You shiver as more goosebumps flare across your skin.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lucifer asks, visibly annoyed.

“I’m going to prove my point to you. I can fuck better than you can in your own body,” Satan replies matter-of-factly.

Lucifer laughs out loud, hand on his chest. “You really believe that, do you? I accept your challenge. We shall let Y/N be the one who determines.”

Wait, what? 

You open your mouth to protest, but close it just as quickly. A shiver of pleasure shudders through you at the thought of being fucked by not only one, but two attractive demons. The dark desire you feel causes you to grow ever wetter with the anticipation, your arousal soaking into the fabric of your shorts.

Noting your silent approval, Lucifer chuckles softly. He presses himself into you.

“Don’t be afraid, my love,” he coos, drawing ever closer. 

Before you can react, he crushes his mouth against yours. You bite his lip, and he takes your cue to open his mouth slightly. You meet your tongue with his, rolling them over each other.

Satan places a hand just under the hem of your shirt, fingers lightly grazing the bare skin. He leans in from behind, lips brushing your ear. He nips at the lobe gently, pushing your hair to the side. Your neck bare, he moves his lips down the curve of it, kissing it and sucking the skin into his mouth.

Satan’s lips leave you as he slips his other hand under your shirt. His fingers delicately trace the curves of your hips, then dance up your waist. Each touch ignites a spark on your skin, your nerve endings on high sensitivity. His hands slowly move to your front, coming together on your abdomen.

They glide farther up, sliding gracefully over your bare breasts. He’s delighted to find you’re not wearing a bra, cupping the soft mounds. He rolls the delicate buds of your nipples between his thumb and index finger. The pleasure shoots straight down between your legs. Your clit is throbbing as you feel the hardened bulge at the front of his pants pressed into your ass.

You moan into Lucifer’s mouth, unable to control yourself. He bites your lip one last time before pulling away, a cocky grin forming on his handsome face. You can feel his cock straining against the constricting fabric of his slacks in front.

“Mm, why is Satan getting all the spotlight?” Lucifer murmurs.

While Satan continues to massage your breasts, Lucifer moves his hand to your inner thigh. You inhale sharply as his fingers dance up and down the delicate skin, caressing it, moving closer and closer to where you want him to be. His fingers hook underneath your shorts, and you gasp.

Burying his face into your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin as Satan had not long before, Lucifer slides his fingers between your drenched folds. They glide up and down with ease, your arousal practically dripping down your legs.

You whimper as your clit continues to throb, aching to be touched. Relishing in your clear desperation, Lucifer pulls his fingers away, and the sudden absence of them feels like a hunger pang growing with intensity. After some torturous seconds, he finally obliges, slipping his fingers back in. His middle finger massages the swollen bud. This time, the sound that escapes you is so lewd, you surprise even yourself.

“Ahhh...Lucifer…” you mewl, “please don’t stop…”

The assault on your most sensitive nerve endings is almost too much. Your legs begin to shake. You lean back into Satan and raise an arm up, hooking it around his neck and pulling his head down to meet yours. Your tongues dance together as both demons continue their tortuous, yet delicious, onslaught of your senses.

As though in sync, both demons pull away at the same time. Lucifer steps back, studying you again with his burning stare raking up and down your body. His eyes are glassy, desire flooding his gaze. His lips part, as though to say something, but suddenly they close, taking in the sight of you. Satan does the same. Their stares are predatory, but you welcome the feeling. 

You stand between them, chest rising and falling rapidly. Your hair is mussed, falling over one shoulder and spilling across your back; your eyes are half-closed, glazed over with lust.

Lucifer meets your eyes, then issues you a command.

“Take off your clothes.”

You nod obediently. You lift your shirt over your head, your bare breasts spilling out. You roll your shorts down your hips, discarding the clothes on the floor. Feeling suddenly vulnerable at your now fully-exposed state, you falter, reaching your hands up to cover your breasts.

“Don’t be bashful now,” murmurs Lucifer, running his tongue over his lips. “You were begging me to touch you not that long ago.”

“We’ll take care of you,” Satan purrs in response, running his hands up and down the curves of your waist.

“I want you on your bed,” Lucifer directs you, pointing towards it.

Again, you obey without hesitation. You lay on your back, turning your head to the side as both demons approach you, the same hungered look in their eyes.

“Now, now,” chides Lucifer. “We can’t see your pretty sight with your legs stuck together like that, can we?” 

Satan nods in agreement, a grin creeping onto his face. 

“Let’s get her on all fours,” he suggests, his smile wicked with sadistic desire.

You roll onto your stomach, positioning yourself as he says. Your back is straight, rigid. You keep your legs pressed together, feeling hesitant.

“Good girl. Arch your back,” he continues. “Let us see how turned on you are.”

Bending your arms at the elbows, you arch your back, your body moving in a fluid motion. Your hands fold together under your pillow, and you rest your head on the soft cushion. There’s no hiding anything in this position, and you know it well. The delicate pink skin of your pussy is in full view for Satan and Lucifer, lips shiny and coated in your abundant fluid arousal.

The bed creaks softly as Lucifer climbs behind you, placing his hands on the supple skin of your ass and squeezing it.

“What a beautiful sight you are like this...isn’t she, Satan?” Lucifer murmurs from behind you. Satan inhales sharply as he watches you hungrily, silently agreeing with his brother. 

Lucifer squeezes your ass again. “I want to see every inch of you,” he murmurs. Suddenly, his hands still grabbing either cheek, he spreads you open even further. His breath hitches. 

You whimper, your confidence wavering at the fact that he’s exposing your most private areas. Simultaneously, you feel so turned on, you almost can’t take it anymore.

You’ll do just about anything at this point to feel the stretch of a cock between your walls, and your pussy clenches in the anticipation.

Lucifer leans forward, teeth sinking into the flesh of your left cheek. Suddenly, his tongue grazes you between your folds from behind. He relishes the sweet taste of your juices generously coating his tongue as he moves it from front to back. He travels back further, further...your eyes widen in surprise as his tongue flicks up and down the sensitive space between your ass cheeks. You gasp, then moan, your arousal skyrocketing.

Satan’s voice sharply cuts through your bliss, causing Lucifer to move back in surprise. 

“How come you get to have all the fun, Lucifer?” he complains. He strides over to the bed, grabbing one of your arms. “I got her into that position. It’s my turn now.”

Bemused, you turn your head to the side, glancing at him. His piercing crimson gaze of the face he now wears bores into you, a stark contrast to his usual calming, beautiful jewel-toned eyes. Still holding your arm, Satan tugs at it gently. 

“Sit up, Y/N,” he orders. 

You lift yourself up steadily and sit up with your legs still spread, resting your back against Lucifer. As you do so, Satan climbs onto the bed. He lays down, head resting on the pillow, bending his legs underneath yours. Lucifer rises, giving the younger demon more room. He cocks an eyebrow, an amused expression tugging at his features. 

Just when you’re trying to figure out what Satan wants from you, he grabs your hips, propelling you forward. You yelp in surprise. You’re seated on his bare chest, your womanhood mere inches from his own face. As he tugs at your hips, silently guiding you closer to him, you realize that’s exactly what he wants. You gently move forward on your knees until his head is between your thighs, spreading them further until his mouth reaches you.

His tongue slides between your sensitive folds, and you reach out, hands gripping the wooden headboard for support. Satan’s hands rest against your inner thighs, caressing the skin gently. He laps up your wetness, tasting the sweet nectar of your juices that coat the fleshy pink skin of your pussy. You move your hips up and down, grinding them against his tongue as you alternate the levels of your sensation. His tongue flicks at your swollen nub, eliciting another lewd moan to tear from your throat.

“A-Ah!” you cry out. You’ve never been eaten out like this before. You’re so turned on, you can feel the pressure building as the fire begins to pool low in your belly.

“Ride my face until you’re dripping, Y/N,” Satan murmurs. 

He lightly nibbles the soft flesh of your thigh, peppering gentle kisses as his lips make their way back between your legs, his tongue rightfully resuming its cadence of getting you off.

Behind you, Lucifer chuckles. “Actually, that’s my face you’re riding, my love.”

He presses up against your back, his still-clothed erection poking at your ass. His lips find purchase on your neck, kissing it. He places his hands on the soft mounds of your breasts, drawing out a whimper from your lips as you shiver in delight.

Lifting your arm, Lucifer ducks his head underneath. Your arm now resting across his shoulders, his head is level with your bosom. He tongues your nipple, nipping and sucking it gently into his mouth. Yet again, the onslaught of all the different stimulation is almost too much to handle. A few seconds later, you feel your climax ignite, blazing a trail of fire through your veins.

You mutter a string of curses as your head rolls back in ecstasy, riding out the luscious waves of electricity pulsating from between your hips all the way up into your chest. Your heart pumps faster, faster, sending sparks all over your body. Satan continues to flick your clit with his tongue as you come undone on top of him, prolonging your bliss several beautiful seconds longer. 

Your orgasm now reduced to a waning ember, you move back, legs straddling Satan’s thighs. His erection prods at you between your legs, though his black slacks still remain on. A carnal desire for the length of his cock to fill you flows through you as you unbutton them. He watches you carefully, raw lust blazing through his crimson eyes. His lips are shiny, covered in a sheen of the fluid evidence of your release. A few seconds later, Satan’s fully-erect cock springs out. You run your tongue over your lips at the sight of it. 

“Well, Lucifer,” Satan breathes, his voice low. “Looks like I’ve already outperformed you. You might as well give up now, and just watch me fuck her until she falls apart.”

Desperate for the much-needed stretch of his length sheathed inside you, you barely pay any mind to Satan’s assertion. Your hand reaches out to grasp his cock, hunger and lust burning ever brighter…

Just as abruptly, you’re pulled backwards into Lucifer’s tight embrace, pinning your arms to your chest. You whimper, visibly annoyed that he’s preventing you from getting what you so desperately want...no, need...right now.

“Don’t be so naive, Satan. I let you get her off first, so that when I fuck her, she can feel the difference between you and I when she cums,” Lucifer laughs.

“Look at her. She wants my cock so badly she practically ripped my pants off to get to it. You’re holding her back.”

Still unable to move, Lucifer runs a hand tenderly along your waist. 

“You took her from me to have your fun. Y/N is a good girl and knows she needs to be shared equally between us...right, my darling?”

“Y-yes,” you respond obediently. 

Lucifer kisses the top of your head, then lets go of you. You fall slightly forward. Satan reaches his hands up to your shoulders and pulls you down gently towards him, lips meeting yours in a fervent kiss as you taste your own arousal.

Behind you, the sound of Lucifer’s zipper coming undone makes your eyes widen with excitement. With his ample length pressing against you, you arch your back and grind your hips onto him. He moans, massaging your ass. The head of his cock presses against your entrance, and you ready yourself to push back into him. Your fingers grip the sheets…

All of a sudden Satan, noticing what’s about to happen, tugs your hips forward. You break off the kiss, biting back a scream of exasperation. Your frustration at the two demons constantly vying for dominance irritates the hell out of you when all you want is the much-needed pleasure of a cock stuffed inside of you.

“I’m the oldest, so I get to fuck her first,” Satan declares.

“Wrong,” Lucifer counters, aggravation creeping into his voice. “I’m Lucifer, not you. You happen to be temporarily occupying my body. Therefore, I’ll be fucking Y/N first.”

“Technically, your body is older, yes? Then I win,” Satan laughs.

Before you can even react, Satan pulls your hips upward, angling his cock underneath you so that it rests against your entrance. Wet and extraordinarily frantic for either one of their cocks at this point, you find yourself unable to resist any longer. Your hips roll over him, crying out in ecstasy as his generous length and girth fill you completely. The glorious stretch of his cock between your walls overrides all your other senses.

“A-Ah! Mmmm...”

You lean back, hands resting on his thighs to help you balance. Lifting your hips, you maneuver your body up and down in a hypnotic rhythm. Satan thrusts harder into you, matching your tempo as the lewd sound of skin clashing against skin permeates the room. The way you’re leaned back allows him to see everything, and the sight of his cock disappearing within your walls alone is almost enough to make him come undone.

In your elation, it’s easy to forget that Lucifer is still behind you, furious that the younger demon defied him. Refusing to let himself be outwitted any longer, his right hand reaches out to grip your breast, drawing out a surprised, ragged breath. His other hand reaches down between your legs. 

As you continue to ride Satan’s cock in an intoxicating harmony, Lucifer’s middle finger finds your pink, swollen clit with ease. Still recovering from your release not so long ago, the bud is hypersensitive, and the slightest touch from Satan evokes a loud, mewling cry from your lips. 

Almost instantaneously, you shatter, reaching your peak. The orgasm shudders through you, your back arching as you ride out the delectable waves of pleasure. Your nails dig scarlet crescent-shaped moons into Satan’s thighs.

Satan continues slamming into you, your walls clenching around his cock even more as he watches you cum. He hisses, knowing he can’t take much more of this, the tightened grip of your pussy threatening to do him in sooner than he’d like.

Several thrusts later, Satan bites back a moan, finally releasing and filling you with his seed. Breathless, you lift yourself off of him, nearly collapsing onto Satan behind you.

“Fuck, Lucifer,” rasps Satan, breathing heavily as he lifts himself off the bed. “You had to interrupt, didn’t you?”

“Don’t defy me, and I wouldn’t have to,” Lucifer chides, his voice brimming with venom.

“I’m shocked you didn’t cream your pants when you did that, seeing as you love getting off on punishing us-”

“That’s enough.”

You stand, though your legs are shaking. You can feel your own arousal fluid, mixed with Satan’s seed, leaking out onto your thigh.

Shit, and you’re still not done yet . You’re not sure how much more of this you can take.

Lucifer turns to you. Your eyes are glazed over with lust, the swell of your ample breasts bouncing with every movement, your hair messy and falling over one shoulder in shiny, dark rivulets. Your body is peppered with tiny red love bites.

A grin creeps onto his face.  It’s his turn now . He stands next to you, fingers splaying across your back possessively.

“My darling, Y/N,” Lucifer coos, reaching up to stroke your hair. “I know you were too obedient to tell Satan no when he fucked you. You’re a good girl. You know I was supposed to fuck you first...right?”

“Y-yes, of course,” you answer.

“Good…” Lucifer continues stroking your hair. “Now, be a  very  good girl and get back on the bed on all fours. Just like before. Let me see every inch of that beautiful pussy that I’m going to make my own…”

Satan chortles, watching the older demon command you in his previous body with morbid curiosity. 

“This should be good,” he murmurs to himself, perching himself on your desk to watch from afar.

You follow Lucifer’s command, positioning yourself just as you had earlier, back arched to the Celestial Realm. His breath hitches as he takes in the sight of your fucked-out pussy, now a slightly deepened pink from all the pounding. Satan’s cum, mixed with your own fluids, drips out of your hole.

“That’s my girl,” Lucifer praises you, languidly running his fingers along the curve of your spine. The sensation elicits a shudder from your body. You feel him climbing onto the bed, positioning himself behind you.

“I’m sorry, my darling...I have to punish you for the way you moaned and looked like a happy little slut riding his cock when you were supposed to be getting fucked by mine,” Lucifer purrs.

Without warning, Lucifer’s hand comes down on your ass, the  smack  reverberating throughout the room. You hiss, the pain stinging your cheek. His hand cracks down on you again. You hold back a cry, burying your head into the pillow. The ache is uncomfortable, though not completely unbearable...nor is it unwanted.

“I’m sorry, Lucifer,” you mewl, hoping he’ll punish you further. He obliges with one final smack on your other cheek. Your cry is carnal, wanton; the sinful pleasure of the pain mixing with arousal fanning the flames of your desire.

He spreads you, eyeing his blazing red handprints etched onto your skin with delight, and leans forward. His cock prods your entrance. Without warning, he thrusts into you, and you whine at the sudden intrusion. His length fully sheathed in the wet heat of your pussy, he groans, balancing himself on your hips. You attempt to match his chaotic thrusting rhythm, pushing yourself back onto him, but he moves so fast and so hard, it’s difficult.

“Mph!”

One hand resting on your ass, Lucifer reaches his other hand out, grasping the length of your hair and twisting it, weaving it between his fingers. He suddenly tugs on the long tresses, yanking your head back. You gasp in shock as you make direct eye contact with Satan, still perched on your desk, a smirk forming on his face.

“Don’t break her neck, Luci,” Satan quips, still bitter that his fuck got cut short.

Ignoring him, Lucifer leans forward, hot breath tickling your ear. 

“You’re such a good girl, Y/N...such a good, obedient girl,” he coos. “I now know why Diavolo picked you. You’re so docile, so compliant...my darling.”

Fingers tightly woven into your hair, Lucifer continues his almost frenzied strokes. His cock slams into your g-spot, and he can feel your pussy tightening around him in anticipation of another sweet release. He curses, pulling his cock out, releasing his fingers from your hair. Your head drops forward and you whine, the decrescendo of your orgasm ebbing slowly.

“Lay on your back,” Lucifer instructs.

You comply, lying supine as your eyes flit up towards the ceiling.

“Look at me.”

You look down to meet his gaze, the beautiful emerald orbs flecked with pools of gold staring directly into yours. His hands on your knees, he pushes them apart, spreading your legs. You drop your gaze down, breaking eye contact to watch him.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he commands. There’s a heavy implication in his words, one that screams don’t disobey me. 

You nod slowly, eyes holding steady in his fervent gaze. He thrusts into you again, relishing your cry of ecstasy. He bites his lip, watching your breasts bounce with his fevered movements, the light sheen of sweat on your skin glimmering in the hazy lights of the room.

Lucifer leans forward, your ankles resting by his shoulders, fingers gripping the sheets as he slams into you, this time at a slower cadence. He continues his incline, your knees practically pressed to your chest. The heightened angle allows him to slam into you deeper, magnifying both his and your pleasure exponentially.

Eyebrows knit tightly, his own release drawing near, Lucifer pulls back a bit, pausing his rhythm. His hand reaches out, tracing delicate lines across your breast, dancing upwards until it reaches your neck.

His fingers lightly grip your throat, and your eyes widen in shock. You’ve never been choked while fucked before, but are certainly intrigued.

“Relax, my darling...I won’t hurt you,” Lucifer says, trying to control his breathing. He continues his stroke, cock plunging in and out of your pussy, completely lubricated with your arousal.

The feeling of his fingers wrapped around your neck as he fucks your tight pussy sends a shudder of pleasure through him. He swallows, on the verge of losing control; but, for your sake, he regains his composure, not wanting to hurt you  too badly the first time he chokes you while he dominates you.

After all, he knows he’s clearly won this competition. He wants to do this to you again...in his own body, of course.

Your release follows quickly after, shattering you through your core. You can barely handle all the stimulation, having had cum twice before already. Your skull slams backwards into the pillow, your vision briefly fading to black. Your body jerks forward, then goes still, your breathing labored as your chest rises and falls rapidly.

Hand still grasping your throat, Lucifer slams into you one final time, filling you with his bitter seed as he groans in ecstasy. He removes himself from you as Satan crosses the room, both demons examining your exhausted form sprawled out on the bed. Your legs are still spread, the abundant white fluid of both demons’ releases dribbling out of you and pooling onto the silk sheets.

“I have to admit, I look pretty damn good when I’m fucking...thanks, Luci,” Satan laughs. Lucifer shakes his head, though a smile plays on his lips.

The two demons help you up off the bed. You stumble, your legs quivering as you recover from the incessant pounding you just took, starting to feel sore between your legs. Lucifer and Satan stroke your hair gently, holding you up as you put your sleeping clothes back on.

“Well, Y/N...what’s the verdict?” Satan challenges you. “Not that I need to ask, since it’s obviously me…”

“Both. It’s both of you,” you answer with a sigh. “Now...can we please go to bed? I’m exhausted.”

Walking back into your bathroom, you glance at your mirror in the reflection. It is not kind to you, showing every puckered red love bite peppered across your skin and wild, mussed hair. Wincing, you turn towards the demon brothers responsible for all the damage and collapse onto your bed, exhaustion overtaking all other emotion.

“I don’t think I have enough concealer to cover all this. You guys are going to have a lot of explaining to do,” you say as your voice tapers off, drifting into the dark abyss of slumber.

“Don’t worry, my darling, we’ll take care of it,” Lucifer laughs, stroking your hair until you fall asleep, chest rising and falling gently.

“I totally won, just so you know,” Satan quips.

“Ha! Still so ignorant,” retorts Lucifer. “You forgot? I made her cum twice-”

“Because you interrupted me-”

You’re pretty sure you can hear their never-ending argument in your dreams, unable to escape even in your own sleep.

[m-y-fandoms]

Korekiyo Shinguuji x oblivious crush reader - short imagine

Request: could i request some headcanons or an imagine (whichever you prefer, i’m not picky lol) for Korekiyo with a crush on an incredibly oblivious female reader who never realizes he’s trying to flirt with her/trying to see if she likes him back? sorry if this is a weird request haha :,)

THIS ISN’T A WEIRD REQUEST, KIYO IS MY BABY DADDY. Also you requested female reader, but I wrote this with a female in mind and then realized I never used any feminine-assigned words or pronouns in here, so anyone can read this with themselves in mind! - Mod Kokichi

Warnings: PG-13 in terms of sexual/romantic scenarios and wording

     “So, in essence, that is why the Egyptians worshipped Hathor, in all her grace and beauty. Isn’t that fascinating, y/n?” Korekiyo mused, watching you carefully as you waltzed through the rows of scrolls and ancient texts in his research lab.

     “Yes, it’s a wonderful story! You really are lucky to have traveled to Eygpt! Heck, I’d never even left Japan until...well coming to wherever we are trapped now. Do you mind?” You pointed to a particularly intricate and elaborate book cover on a high up shelf.

     “Not at all, my dear. Feel free to take any materials from my lab that you wish, as long as you promise I can visit your lab freely as well?” You let the words ‘my dear’ ghost over your ears with little to no reaction. Normally, if such a handsome man had playfully rolled those words off of his tongue in your direction, your neck hairs would have stood on end like a startled cat, but with Korekiyo it was different. You did harbor some...feelings for him, but he called everyone dear, right? He was always spewing mature and polite crap like that.

     “Yeah, of course, though I don’t know why an anthropologist would ever waste his time in a plain old dance studio,” you chuckled, on your tip-toes struggling for the tome far above you. Korekiyo snuck up behind you, his chest warm against your back as he reached up and plucked the book down for you, placing it gently in your hands. You held the book to your own chest and turned to face him, finding yourself flush against the wooden bookshelf with the lanky anthropologist trapping you in place. “Thanks, Kiyo!” You felt blood rush to your cheeks as he tilted his head at you like a curious puppy hearing the word ‘treat!’ You tried to settle your stuttering heart. Surely he was just being nice, right?

     “Think nothing of it…” his hands came up slowly on either side of your head, caging you in between his slender arms. “You know, y/n, Hathor is known mainly for her impressive duality. She balances femininity and softness with strength and vengeance. She is a protector, but also is the harbinger of dance, joy, love...sexuality.” His voice deepened into a rasp that was like melted chocolate flowing freely over your ears. His proximity was beginning to make you dizzy. “You remind me of Hathor in many ways. I see the way you take care of your friends here, the way you defend people, but also the with which you dance: the water-like movements of your passion.”

     “...” you stood there, silent for a moment, and then another moment, and then another. He looked at your expectantly, his expression unreadable through his mask. “Well, thanks, Kiyo! I never thought you’d be into ballet! Though I guess dance is a part of culture as much as anything else!” You ducked under his arm with a chipper attitude, shuffling into the open space of his lab, and he sighed deeply, looking at the ground in self-pity. Were you really not interested in him? He couldn’t blame you. Many people saw him as a creep, a pariah. He was a teenager that wore a mask at all times for crying out loud. He endlessly spewed random facts and unsolicited folk tales. Of course people avoided him. But you...you visited him every day. Before his lab opened up, you met with him in the library and inquired about his day. You asked him to eat lunch with you, and walk you back to the dorms after dinner. You asked to hear his stories, and he found himself growing to like you more and more. He didn’t want to admit his feelings until he knew for sure that you felt the same, but it was looking like his old friend, rejection, might win the war once again.

     “Kiyo, this lab is simply amazing! You’re so lucky... you got the biggest one yet! My studio looks like a janitor’s closet compared to this!” You spun around on the new floor on his lab, taking in the sights, book in hand. You’d been here every day since it opened, but dedicated yourself to one section a day, having only reached this floor earlier that evening. You thought knowledge like this deserved time and respect. Korekiyo agreed of course.

     “Well when one’s area of study is the entire world, a proportionately large area is needed for said study,” he drawled, slinking along behind you as you sat in a chair on the main floor. He sat in the chair across from you in front of the wall of display cases holding ceremonial swords and masks as you fingered through the book in wonder.

     “Woah…” your eyes widened innocently.

     “Ahhh, the Kama Sutra? You’re holding one of the oldest copies known to man.” He leaned closer to you, splaying his fingers over the page you were on slowly and seductively. “I had no idea you were this kind of person, y/n…” there’s that confectionary tone again, sweet and dripping with carnal desire.

     “N-no of course not I just...what kind of person do you mean? I mean...I think the book is just interesting, the cover and the design on the spine drew me in and-“

     “We should never judge a book based on its cover, yes?” He let his honeyed-words sink in to your doe-like eyes, “I think human beings, much like this book, hide things within our pages not immediately evident on our covers.”

     “I agree…” his words flew right over your head. “Like you! I didn’t know you had an interest in ballet at all!” He was starting to get frustrated, but he exhaled deeply, his inner voice telling him to have patience.

     “Well, yes, I’ve seen many different forms of dance, and of course, ballet is delicate and breath-taking, but also very strenuous. Another thing we shouldn’t take at face value. I’ve seen the feet of many a poor dancer after a performance, and it really is a harsh contrast to the grace of the dance itself.”

     “Yes, yes! You get it!” He smiled at your child-like wonder, with you seeing only the crinkle of his eyes above the mask. “I know so many men who don’t even think dance of any kind can be a sport. I think many so-called atheletes would give up on day one of ballet lessons.” You chuckled, and he let himself be enveloped in your laughter. He was complete entranced in your aura.

     “So, you will allow me to view your ballet practice in private some time? I’ve seen you with your lab door open in passing, but I would be absolutely delighted if you’d honor me with a private session, so I could focus on you and only you.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his long raven hair falling around him like a bed canopy.

     “Oh, Kiyo…” you began, your own heart hurting at the words you were about the speak, but it was for the best. You didn’t want to waste his time, not in a place like this. “I know you’re interested in ballet, but after those first two trials and this whole not-knowing-when-we-are-gonna-die thing, I don’t think it would be a worthy use of your time to pull yourself away from all of this,” you gestured to the gigantic room around you, “in order to-”

     “Y/N-!” He spoke angrily and abruptly, startling you, before composing himself and beginning again, taking the book from your hand and instead intertwining his fingers in your own. “...I am not interested in ballet, so much as I am interested in you. Do you understand?” You felt your body tense up in complete shock. He wasn’t serious right…? He was teasing you, taking advantage of your naïveté and your obvious feelings for him. Maybe you weren’t hiding them as well as you’d thought.

     “Me…?” You looked at his wrapped hand in yours, the bandages scratchy texture pulling you back down to earth.

     “Yes, you.” He spoke bluntly, with nothing but compassion in his voice.

     “But you’re...you’re so…” he braced himself, waiting for the insults and degrading comments that always followed when he let his walls down around normal people.

     “...Odd? Long-winded? A freak of nature?” He sighed, pulling away.

     “Beautiful…” you could hardly hear your own words pouring from your mouth, the pounding of your heart beat too loud in your ears. You grabbed his hand, and in a moment of fragile silence, began to unwrap the linen that covered every inch of his fingers, then down to his palms and wrists. His hands, now revealed to you fully for the first time, were just as beautiful as his voice and cat-like golden eyes. They were pale, ghostly, ethereal. They looked like they could break at the slightest touch, but withstand any hard labor that was thrown at them at the same time. “Korekiyo, you spend so much time telling others that humanity is beautiful, that you haven’t taken the time to see it in yourself, have you? At least...not for a long while.”

     “Y/N, I-” you reached for the top of his mask with shaking fingers, and he jerked away roughly, terrified. When you reached out again, he didn’t move, steeling himself to be exposed to you. You deserved to see the truth. His eyelids fluttered closed, and his heart dropped into his stomach.

     Your fingertips lingered at the top of the mask before tugging it down gently. He kept his eyes shut tightly as you observed his full face.

     The tip of his nose, which you could tell from the nose bridge was thin, came to an adorable point above his lips. A delicate, milky white chin led up on either side to a sharp jawline, high cheekbones and a flawless complexion. That powdery complexion was met in stark contrast to the blood-red pigment of a matte lipstick staining his lips.

     “Y/N, I didn’t want you to see me...truly see me for the first time like thi-” you brought your lips closer to his until they were touching, and soon found yourself leaning into his chest, into his lap in his seated position in front of you. Your lips pressed into his, a bit more bold now, and your confidence spurred his own. You now straddled his hips, your legs on either side of his thighs, and he grabbed your hips, his hands shaking like a leaf in the wind. He pulled back, scanning your face for any regret, any shame or fear, and sensing none, crashed his lips onto yours again. He roughly sucked on your bottom lip, pulling a small moan from your mouth that excited him more than anything corporeal had in a long time. You never thought he’d be such a good kisser.

     “Korekiyo…” you pulled back again, giving you both some much-needed air. “I never thought that...someone like you would even glance my way. You’re so intelligent, so regal and elegant and different from the norm and…” your words trailed off, and his thumb reached up to your lips, roughly wiping away the red lipstick that clung onto your face as a reminder that he had been there.

     “Likewise, y/n,” he reclined back into the chair with you still on his lap, a little too cocky and cheeky for his own good, but to say the smirk on his messy red mouth wasn’t turning you on would be a lie.

[jawritter]

The Arrangement

Part 4

Summery: You are a young girl that was raised in a small church in Dallas, TX. One of the only churches left in the state that still practices arranged marriages. When your betrothed ran off to California you thought you'd escape the fate you were trained for ever since a small child. Now upon the death your parents your fate seemed to be inescapable as he's returned, and is ready to take you as his bride.

Book Warnings: Arranged marriage, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex, angst, language, suicide attempt, battles with anxiety, struggles with mental illness, age gap (about 11 years), I think that’s it, chapters will have warnings of their own!

Chapter Warnings: Scared Reader, insecure reader, angest, pre smut, drinking, I think that’s it.

Word Count: 2626

A/N: This book is a book about Christian and church based arranged marriages, I would like to take this moment to say that I DO NOT have ANYTHING against the Chirstian faith, and mean absolutely no harm to anyone! Especially Jensen’s family! This is a complete work of fiction, and should be treated as such!

Beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons who was awesome enough to do all this for me! It was a lot of work, and she deserves all the praise for it!!

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Want More? Check Out My Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

The rain was pounding down on the windshield in sheets, and the traffic seemed to be moving impossibly slow due to the horrible weather. The only sound in the car is the sound of the windshield wipers dragging across the window, and the rain pounding down on top of the car. 

Jensen hadn't said a word to you, or looked at you even since pulling the car out onto the highway. You tried to tell yourself that it was just because he was trying to concentrate with all the bad weather and traffic. 

Your self-consciousness was screamed past your own reasoning.

'Look at him, he's freaking gorgeous! He's probably regretting this already, and you haven't even gotten to your hotel yet. He’ll probably return you to the church by morning, and not even try to consummate the marriage. Someone as attractive as him could never be attracted to someone like you.' your mind screamed at you.

You looked out the window, even though all you could see was pouring rain. Trying your hardest to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over onto your checks, you felt like he'd already rejected you. Your own thoughts quickly become your worst enemy.

You were so engrossed in your own thoughts that you nearly jumped out of your skin when he reached over and took your hand in his, and entwined your fingers together, your gaze snapping over to him.

"You okay?" he asked you, looking quickly over at you and then back to the road. You had to clear your throat to make your voice work clearly.

"Yeah, I'm okay."  You were once again having trouble thinking clearly, your mind on his thumb that was running little patterns on the back of your hand. His strong callous hand holding on tightly to your own. Your hands looked so small compared to his.

You looked up to notice that you seemed to be heading outside of town. You didn't know that you were leaving Dallas tonight. Where was he taking you? You could feel your heart racing in your chest. Was he going to bring you to California?

"Jensen...." you say tentatively, not wanting to test his authority as your husband and head of your house. Like the preacher said, like it or not, your body was no longer your own.

"What's wrong sweetheart? Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, looked nervously between yourself and the road.

"Yeah.. I'm fine, just wondering where we're going? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." you quickly looked away from him, and back out the side window, bracing yourself, not sure what his reaction would be to you questioning him. 

You'd only been married for fifteen minutes, and you already felt like you were screwing it up and making him want to get rid of you.

"Oh I'm sorry, I was concentrating on the traffic, this weather is something that I hadn't expected when I got here, and I forgot to tell you. I booked us an Airbnb to stay at for a few days while we get to know each other a little, and decide where to go from there. We're almost there, just about five more minutes." he said, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

You nodded your head, and decided you lucked out this time and he was more patient than you anticipated, still it was best not to push your luck.

"You know you don't have to be afraid of me." he said, looking over at you, his eyes meeting yours. He looked concerned, not angry, which surprised you. "I'd never do anything to hurt you. I feel like you're sitting over there terrified of me."

You mentally kicked yourself for sitting there acting like a child afraid of the monster in the closet. You were making your new husband feel like you were terrified of him, when really you didn't know what you were terrified of.

He pulled the car into the driveway of a house, which isn't what you expected at all. It was quite a cute little house, almost like a little cabin on it's own piece of land. Not some big motel, with people wondering around everywhere. 

"We're here." he said, putting the car in park and looking over at you. "Is this okay? I thought it might be more private, you know than a hotel."

"No, this is perfect! I just didn't know what to expect. I've never stayed at anything like this before."

His eyes softened as he looked at you. The rain had let up significantly, and the sun was starting to go down behind the tree line, casting just enough light in the car for you to clearly see him. Each time you looked at him, you couldn't help but feel like he took your breath away from you. He was so painfully handsome, which only amplified your insecurities that you fought to push down with everything you had.

Shrugging himself out of his suit blazer he reached over, and threw it across your shoulders, the smell of his cologne surrounded you, and immediately calmed you. He jumped out of the car in the rain, and ran around to open the door for you, pulling you close to his side as you stepped out into the steady drizzle, before running to the small porch that was attached to the house.

Once safe out of the rain Jensen reached in his pocket, and pulled out a key and quickly unlocked the door.

You waited for him to either open it or move out of the way so that you could go inside, but he did neither. Instead he turned around, and pulled you close to him, looking at you in a way that made your knees week.

Slowly, gently so as to not scare you, he leaned down and placed a feather light kiss to your lips. Your body responds to him in an instant , even though it only took you a moment to kiss him back. Your lips moving in time together, like it was second nature. For some reason that was comforting to you. If kissing him was this easy, maybe everything else would be to.

Finally breaking the kiss, Jensen pulled away, leaning his forehead to yours for a moment before gently leaning down, and as if you weighed nothing at all, picked you up into his arms. Turning to the door you didn't even notice he’d opened, he walked you both into the small little cabin.

His lips found yours again as his foot kicked the door closed, and he gently placed you on the couch in the living room, hovering his weight off of yours. Breaking the kiss he backs away from you, stopping long enough to place a light kiss to the top of your forehead.

"I'm going to go and grab our bags from the car, then I'm going to order us some takeout."

You blinked at him. Your heart sinking in your chest.

'He really didn't want you.' your mind was screaming at you again. 'See you weren't good enough for him'.

Sensing your confusion he leaned down, and placed a small kiss on your check before kneeling down beside the couch where you were sitting, putting his hands on both sides of your hips. His thumbs running little patterns on your skin just under your shirt.

"I know what you were expecting, but we have all night to get to that. You've been through a lot today, I thought maybe you might want a little time to yourself before we..." he looked down at his knees, almost like he was shy. 

That surprised you. A man that looked like that.. Shy? You didn't feel like you were anywhere near his equal. Why would he be shy around you?

"I'll go draw you a warm bath, and I'll let you know when dinner gets here. Then I'll get myself cleaned up  and we're going to get this old house cold enough for penguins to habituate, curl up in the bed and just let this happen naturally. I don't want to force this." he said, playing with your bare left ring finger before kissing you on the top of the forehead, and walking toward what you assumed was the bathroom.

You were grateful that he wasn't being forceful, and you did like the idea of having a little time alone before you had to officially become his 'wife' in the biblical sense. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as you thought it was going to be.

Five minutes later you walked into a decent sized bathroom that had a very nice jacuzzi bath on the wall of the room. Jensen had obviously put a bath bomb in, and turned the jets on for you.

The room was filled with the smell of lavender, and he'd dimmed the lights down to make it more relaxing. Looking over the vanity that sat across the room on the opposite wall, Jensen had laid out a towel and washcloth for you. It made you smile that even though he was stranger to you really, he'd taken the time to try and make you feel better in an uncomfortable situation.

Sinking into the warm water, you let it relax you, pulling away some of the stress that had been hanging over you like a dark cloud over the last week. Everything had all happened so fast. You woke up one morning and your whole life changed all in one week. 

Your parents were gone, and now you are married.

Thinking about being married brought a whole new stress to mind. 

You'd never been with a man before, even though you were 29 years old. You'd never even been given the opportunity to court anyone. Your parents always hoped Jensen would come back and claim you "when he comes to his senses." as your father always said.

From the point you were very small, you were told what was expected out of you once Jensen had claimed you as his wife.

Cooking, cleaning, nursing him back to health when he was feeling ill, baring his children if he so chose to give you any, and then raising those children, making a comfortable and safe home for him to come home to at the end of the day.

None of that scared you.

It was the fact, as your pastor not so delicately put it. "Your body is no longer your own, it belongs to him."

You were always told never to deny your husband when he comes to you. It was against the law of God to deny him the pleasure that you owed him for providing for your family. You were to under no circumstance turn him down. Period.

You were also told by friends you had made in the church that were already claimed by their husbands, that the wedding night wasn't ever really pleasant. Usually the first time being with your new husband was painful.

Just thinking about it, your stomach twisted in knots, and your hands started to shake. You knew what was expected of you. You knew in order to be fully bound to this man the way God intended, and even the law intended you had to have sex with him.

As fear of pain and blood rampaged through your mind while you lay there in the bath that he'd so graciously drawn for you, a soft knock on the door nearly made you fly out of your skin and land on the ceiling like a cat.

"Baby, the food is here."

"Baby?" you thought to yourself as you climbed out of the warmth of the water, and wrapped the towel around you. "

Are pet names normal this early?"

"Okay." you yelled back toward the door, afraid if you didn't respond he'd come in. 

You listened as his footsteps made their way back toward the living room and kitchen area. You sighed in relief as you walked over to look through your overnight bag that you'd carried in the bathroom with you.

Dressing quickly in your favorite pair of Pajama pants, and black t-shirt you made your way into where you'd heard Jensen disappear to.

He'd already gotten the food out and plated for the two of you, and was pouring wine into two glasses. He smiled softly as he heard you enter the room.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah a little." you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen brought the two plates of food over to the coffee table, trying to keep the situation non formal and comfortable probably. 

"Sit down and eat sweetheart." he patted the spot on the couch next to where he'd placed his own plate, and retreated to grab the wine he'd poured for the two of you out of the kitchen.

You looked at the dark red liquid that he'd placed down in front of you as you slowly started to make your way through your food. You'd never drank any sort of alcohol before. Your father hadn't allowed it.

"I thought it might help.." Jensen said, watching you closely. "You know if you were a little more relaxed tonight."

So he thought getting you tipsy would make this easier for you. Great.

You said nothing, knowing better than to challenge his authority. 

You picked up the glass, and took a test sip of the substance it contained. It wasn't an unpleasant taste, though it was different. Satisfied that you were eating Jensen turned the TV on in front of you, and tucked into his own food. Watching the highlights of the local college football game.

The sound coming from the TV was oddly comforting. It was a sound that you remember hearing every Sunday after church. Your dad would come home and turn the TV on to catch the highlights of the game that he'd missed. That little piece of home, or the alcohol you'd started to consume relaxed you a great deal.

Once you both were about two glasses in of wine, and your plates cleaned, you gathered up everything and brought it to the dishwasher. Jensen had done more than you probably should have let him already. He didn't protest, just watched you closely as you loaded the dishwasher.

Coming up behind you, he put his arms around your waist, and turned you away from the sink that you were standing in front of to face him, looking into you (y/e/c) eyes for a moment before bringing his lips to yours, kissing you with a little more force than he had before you'd gone to take a bath earlier. It damn near knocked the breath right out of you.

Jensen slipped his tongue between your lips, slowly exploring your mouth, taking his time running his tongue over yours, kissing you like you'd always dreamed someone would. Memorizing everything about you as his hands traced the hem of your shirt lightly, sending chills down your spine.

Finally he pulled away, looking into your eyes with his head resting on your forehead, his thumb tracing lightly over your cheek bone.

"I'm going to go grab a really quick shower, you wanna wait for me there." he said, jerking his head toward what you knew was the bedroom was located that was attached to the master bathroom.

You said nothing. Taking a deep breath, you nodded your head, and he placed a feather light kiss on the side of your mouth before walking away into the bathroom.

You knew you couldn't put it off forever, but the fear that gripped you was unreal as you made your way into the master bedroom and pulled the covers back, climbing in the cold sheets to wait for your husband.

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Tag List: @deanwanddamons​ @imabitch4jensen​ @rvgrsbrns​ @bi-danvers0​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @i-love-superhero​ @akshi8278​ @lyss-dw79​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624​ @busy-bee-angel-misska​ @justanotherwinchester​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @idksupernatural​ @lyarr24​ @amandamdiehl​

[sourwolphs]

Like an Animal - Bucky x Reader (6/8)

Read on Ao3 (for better interface + formatting)

Summary: Reader is an enhanced Omega kidnapped by Hydra and trapped in a cell with Alpha Bucky Barnes. Tags: A/B/O, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending Warnings: Rated M, Self-hating inner dialogue  A/N: I ended up writing this chapter from both Reader's and Bucky's perspective because I couldn't choose between them, and had to puzzle piece my favorite parts together. 

A few hours after Steve left, Bucky found himself dozing slightly on the couch in his dark living room. He’d long abandoned his book on the side table, leaving an old black and white rerun of The Lone Ranger on mute on the TV, flashing light across his stretched out form.

When he’d first come back to the compound, before Shuri had removed the words from his brain in Wakanda, he’d spend many nights outside of his body, doing nothing just like this— the sound of the TV too overstimulating, words on the page swimming away from comprehension, unable to focus on anyone or anything for long. Instead, he’d just sit and drift, letting his mind go blank. Sam had called it “disassociating”— whatever the fuck that means. He hadn’t been like this in a few years— this out of himself— not after Wakandan’s powerful therapies helped him escape some of the more acute terrors of his brain.

He was startled out of his state by a soft knock on the door. He felt a flash of irritation at Steve’s overprotectiveness, before his hackles raised as he scented Y/N of all people faintly through the door. He jumped up in a panic from the couch, his socked feet silent on the floor as his eyes took a rapid inventory of his apartment. There was a sweaty pile of gym clothes on the other side of the couch that he first hurled into his closet. Then, he flicked on the lamp and the soft kitchen light, quickly looped his fingers through a few mugs cluttering the coffee table, and dropped them in the sink before he approached the door.

Without allowing himself to think too hard about why she was here— Did she figure out the gifts? — or take a deep breath— he opened the door.

Despite his held breath, her scent hit him all at once— a rush of spicy-sweet peppermint, the crisp, clean smell of snowfall— strong enough with its source right in front of him that it burned his nose a bit on the inhale. Bucky swore his heart skipped several beats.

She was dressed in a cozy-looking, quarter zip pullover and a comfortable pair of black joggers, just like the kind that Nat wears— functional, clean lines, hugging her form in all the right places. Her hair was slightly mussed, as if she’d just gotten up from the couch after a nap. It was so cozy, so domestic, it made his heart ache with renewed want. But underneath her sweet peppermint smell lay the warm and familiar newspaper-ink scent of Steve. Paired with her cozy, slightly disheveled state, it was as if she had just extricated herself from his arms to show up at Bucky’s door.

Bucky’s inner Alpha fought between roaring in possessive rage and wilting in cowed rejection, but he forced his expression into careful neutrality.

They stared at each other for a moment, neither speaking. Her facial expression looked stricken, and Bucky realized how weird he was being. He’d puffed out his chest without noticing— all Alpha instinct and posturing at the whiff of Steve’s scent— and he quickly readjusted, folding his form into a more relaxed lean against the door.

What do you say to the gorgeous Omega you violated, avoided for a month, and then left creepy gifts to when she shows up at your door at 10pm? Before he could mumble out something to break the awkward silence, she interrupted the panicked swirl of his thoughts.

“Hi,” she said. Her voice was high and tight, like she was trying not to inhale. Even Steve had said his apartment smelled. He felt shame curl tight in his gut, and he had to stop himself from closing the door to shut himself and his depressing stench away. “I’m sorry, I came here to talk to you about something, but I’m feeling kind of— dizzy?” Y/N’s expression looked dazed, and she started to sway a little on her feet.

Bucky’s Alpha instincts immediately kicked into overdrive, urging him to scoop her into his arms, hold her tight, snuggle her into his den until she was healthy and clear-headed. But now that she was here, the rational part of his brain was much more terrified at the possibility of scaring her off. Act. Normal.

“Do you want to sit down?” he said, swallowing hard as he opened his door further. Inviting an unbonded Omega into an Alpha’s den was toeing the line of socially acceptable— at least when he was growing up in the 30s— but she didn’t seem fazed by the invitation, nodding and slipping inside. He gestured towards the couch, giving her a wide enough berth that she wouldn’t feel caged in— surrounded by his scent as she was— and she chose to sit in the same, still-warm spot where he’d just been lying, sinking back into the couch cushions. Bucky felt equally satisfied and pained at the thought that her smell would cling to his favorite spot for weeks. He plopped across from her in the armchair where Steve had been just hours before, aiming for nonchalance.

“Sorry,” she said again, waving her hand next to her head. “I think I’m just… overtired or something.” She yawned, kitten-like. His Alpha roared inside him, fingers twitching with the urge to reach out, to touch, but he held himself perfectly still.

“It’s okay,” he said. “So…” He trailed off, clearing his throat awkwardly. Bucky Barnes, ladies and gentleman. God, he was a fucking loser.

Y/N took a deep, steadying breath, bracing her hands on her thighs. “I came here to apologize.”

——-

After the movie ended and Sam finished showing us 6 deleted scenes and 10 YouTube interviews, I finally slipped quietly out of my new blanket nest and away from the steadying comfort of the Alpha-Omega sandwich. I paced for a bit in the hallway outside Bucky’s room, gearing myself up for what would likely be an awkward confrontation with a man I knew well intimately but hardly personally. As much as I’d like for him to sweep me off my feet and into the safety and comfort of his den, he’d probably tell me I was delusional and that he was avoiding me because he wanted to be left alone. That’s why I figured it was probably best to start with an apology.

What I did not prepare for during my anxious pacing was the overwhelming Alpha scent that washed over me the minute he opened the door. It was like getting hit in the face by a truck full off pheromones designed specifically to reduce me to a shivering, keening puddle on the floor. Every clever thing I planned to say flew right out the window as I swayed under the strength of his gaze and the delicious cedar wood and bonfire scent that curled around me.

Inside his apartment wasn’t any better. I should have asked to meet on neutral ground, I thought immediately after stepping through the door. Everywhere smelled like him. Even the couch underneath me was still warm from where he was probably curled up before I’d interrupted. It took all my strength to quiet the dizzying rush of hormones in my head, breathe in deeply through my mouth, and spit out what I came here to say.

“I came here to apologize,” I said, gulping down the ridiculous, submissive words my hindbrain wanted to follow up with. I’m so sorry, Alpha. It wasn’t my fault. I can be better for you.

Bucky looked… confused. “Apologize?”

“Yes. Apologize,” I said, feeling my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “I know we… did what we had to do. When we were trapped. And I’m sorry that I… reacted the way I did. I know heats are really intense. For everyone. I know I made you uncomfortable, and you probably don’t want anything to do with me.” I paused again, biting hard on my lower lip as my stomach roiled with embarrassment. I looked down at my lap, where I was digging my fingers hard into my thighs, and forced out the last few words. “But I couldn’t help it. And I’m sorry I went into heat. I think it was the purring. I’ve… never felt that. Before.”

I didn’t look up from my lap at first, wincing internally. Bucky’s silence after my lousy attempt at an apology hurt worse than anything so far. The least he could do is acknowledge that it wasn’t my fault.

I took a shaky inhale, and felt a lump build up in my throat. Goddamnit. Don’t fucking cry. Not now.

“I— This was a mistake,” I said, sniffling hard and willing the tears rapidly welling up in my eyes not to fall. I finally looked up from my lap, bracing myself to stand and backtrack the hell out of here, when I simultaneously saw the look on Bucky’s face and caught the scent of absolutely devastatedAlpha.

“Don’t leave,” he said, voice deep and rough, on the edge of an Alpha command. I froze instantly, though it wasn’t because he’d compelled me to. Alpha commands only worked on their bonded Omegas and their offspring.

No, I froze because Bucky looked… heartbroken. It was the only time I’d seen an ounce of vulnerability on his face, besides that moment in the cell when he’d first realized he was falling into a chemically-induced rut. My eyes flicked down to where his metal hand was fisted so hard in the arm of his chair that the seams were starting to rip.

Before I could blink it away, I felt one unruly tear slip down my cheek, though my own shame and embarrassment had taken a backseat once I’d recognized Bucky’s distress.

“I— Fuck,” he said. Faster than I could register, Bucky heaved himself forward, sinking down onto his knees on the floor in front of me, hands clutching at the couch cushions on either side of my thighs. Our eyes locked, and I lost myself in twin pools of grey-blue. His scent burned on my next inhale, sharp and distressed, the sour stench of guilt that lingered in the corners of his apartment.

“Why are you apologizing?” Bucky’s voice was a breathy, raspy growl. It sent a thrill up my spine, and for a moment, I didn’t register that he’d asked me a question. This close, I could feel the heat of his skin, see the stubble on his jaw, scent that delicious smell of him— like snowmelt, like the wind on your face, like a deep inhale at the summit of a mountain…

Bucky broke his gaze first, growling low and dark in his chest. “I should be the one apologizing. I should have already. But I—“ He cut himself off, lip curling in disgust as he leaned away from me. I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest. Alpha doesn’t want you.

I inhaled hard, suppressing a sob, feeling more hot tears run down my cheeks.

I needed to leave. Now. I wasn’t in control of my emotions. This was embarrassing. “Clingy Omega sobs in disinterested Alpha’s apartment.” What would the pack think of me?

I moved to stand up again, but the low-grade growl in Bucky’s chest sharpened, and he lurched forward, crowding me back against the couch cushions.

Before I could even register the aggression in his action, or even think to be fearful of him, Bucky had already leaned back out of my space and silenced his growl.

“Fuck! Sorry— I’m. Sorry. Don’t leave yet. I won’t—“ He cut himself off again, shaking his head in frustration, before standing up to put more distance between us again, moving to lean on the back of the armchair across from me with his head in his hands. He took a deep, steadying breath before speaking again. “I should be the one apologizing. Because I… hurt you. I told you that you were safe. And you weren’t. Not from me.”

When he looked up to meet my gaze, his expression looked tortured, but his scent was worse— ashy and acidic, hatred and guilt. Guilt? Why was he…

I swiped hurriedly at the tears on my cheeks, feeling the lump in my throat clear as confusion and exasperation took over.

“What are you talking about? I’m perfectly fine,” I huffed. Well, as fine as one can be when they’re pining over an Alpha who can’t stand to be in the same room as them. Maybe he feels guilty about Hydra restraining me? That’s the only logical explanation I could think of.

“Tony got the cuffs off right when I got back here, it’s not like you could have removed them. They were Terrigen crystal.” I shook my head, and once again moved to stand and leave as the futility of this conversation dawned on me. “Whatever. I’ll just go.”

This time, I got in a few steps towards the door before that low growl started up again and he caught my wrist in his right hand.

I should have been terrified. I should have been running for my life. I should have frozen him into the floor. I was an unbonded Omega in a growling Alpha’s den, soaked in a combination of our distressed pheromones, held in his grasp and unable to leave.

But despite all the reasons I had to roll over and bare my throat in fearful submission, absolutely no part of me felt scared or unsafe.

Bucky’s hand on my wrist was gentle. Not holding me back, but pleading for me to stay. And the feel of his skin on mine made something hot, desperate and dark curl within me.

His voice was rough when he spoke again, my back still turned half away from him. “In that cell. I… forced myself on you. You trusted me enough to fall into a heat, and I took advantage. You shouldn’t be apologizing, because you should hate me.”

When I turned back around, the raw expression on his face made my stomach lurch. He looked… devastated. Ashamed. Vulnerable. Afraid.

Feeling hysterical, I couldn’t help a little nervous giggle from bubbling up in my throat.

All this time, this big, dumb, handsome, superhero Alpha had really thought he’d violated me in some way. Me. The Omega who had practically rubbed her entire body in his scent, who had stayed up for hours yearning for his Alpha purr, who’d had sex dreams about him dirty enough to make a pornstar shudder.

“Are you fucking with me?” I said.

Bucky frowned earnestly. “No… I—“

“So you’ve been leaving me secret gifts because you felt… guilty?” I said, knowing I was putting him on the spot. Something about being in his presence, in his den, was making me bold— finally giving in after a month of exasperation, of chest-aching pain.

Bucky’s eyes widened, and he had the sense to look a bit sheepish, dropping my wrist from where his hand still encircled it. “Uh. It wasn’t—I was just— I’ll stop if you—“ he said, stumbling over his words.

His nervousness, I noted absurdly, was charming.

That’s when I suddenly realized that here, surrounded by Bucky’s scent, close enough to touch, I felt lighter than I had in over a month. The dull ache in my chest had lifted, and in its place, all I felt was an incredible sense of rightness.

Comfort Alpha, my Omega murmured, crawling back up from the recesses of my brain where I’d shoved her away earlier.

And, well, I was tired of fighting her. Fuck it.

“Bucky,” I laughed, cutting off his sputtering. “You— You didn’t force anything on me. We were both out of our minds. Hell— I’m still out of my mind! I’ve been pining over you for a month. My fucking chest,” I said, reaching up to worry at my sternum where the pain had been centered.

“You— What?”

————

As soon as Y/N had settled into the couch, and Bucky’s inner Alpha had registered that she was within reach, soaked in his scent and looking gorgeous and vulnerable, he’d lost it a little.

First— confusingly— she had started apologizing. Then in just a few, rapidly devolving moments, he’d (1) made her scent spike with anger and sadness, (2) watched helplessly as tears clumped in her eyelashes and tracked down her smooth cheeks, and (3) acted like a territorial knotheadwhen she’d tried to leave— as if he hadn’t fucked things up enough.

And now she was… confessing her feelings for him?

That couldn’t be right.

“You— What?”

Bucky recognized that absolutely no part of this conversation had demonstrated his intelligence. He was actually starting to think maybe the serum had given him early onset dementia.

He took a step closer to her, knowing he was pushing it by crowding the Omega in his own territory, but too overwhelmed to care. “But… What about Steve?” he asked. Just being within feet of her, he could smell the newspaper ink scent of his best friend still lingering on her clothes.

Y/N quirked her head. “What about him?” She lifted her arm to take a sniff at her shoulder, seeming to scent what remained of him on her pullover.

Bucky bit hard on the inside of his cheek, fighting a scowl. He wasn’t that dumb. “You two are… you know,” he started, shrugging to hide the hurt. “Together.”

An amused smirk tugged at her lips. “What, did you think I was canoodling with Wanda and Sam as well? The whole pack? Because I smell like all of them, too.”

And, well, yes. This close, Bucky could pick up Wanda’s muted cinnamon smell, Sam’s citrus scent, and even a splash of rosewater from Nat.

Then, Bucky noticed that Y/N’s hand was still worrying at her sternum. In the very same spot where he’d practically rubbed holes in his own shirts over the past month. He matched the motion dazedly, reaching up to place his palm over his own chest. That same nagging thought that had dogged him for weeks in the Brooklyn apartment fought back to the forefront of his mind. Bond withdrawal.

“You feel it too?” he said, his words coming out softer than he’d intended, disbelief coloring his tone.

Bucky watched as her snarky expression melted away, eyes turning serious and contemplative. She took a step forward, now so close that they were breathing the same air, and nodded resolutely.“All day. Every day. Aching. And—” She paused, a fierce blush rising on her cheeks. “Your… purr. I feel like I nee—“

Before his higher functions could process the words coming from her lips, Bucky’s hindbrain took control of his body. He crowded Y/N back into the wall behind them, his arms on either side of her head as he leaned in to take a deep, desperate lungful right at the scent glands on her neck. She tipped her head back instantly, baring her throat to him and letting out a breathy moan that sent his head spinning, her sweet peppermint scent coursing through his veins like the best drug.

In the morning, maybe, he’d regret this.

But right here, right now? Omega really wants him. Fucking finally.

The sight of her bared throat made his Alpha wild with need— the same trusting submission he thought he had abused before, now presented to him without abandon. He replaced his nose on her neck with his lips and tongue, and her body arched against his, their hips lining up. She keened softly, and his cock thickened in his pants, forcing him to bite back a gratified growl as he ran his nose up and down the column of her throat. Her scent was changing, taking on an earthy, musky note, like fallen leaves and wet moss. Arousal. He felt his mouth water, and he could scent his own aroused pheromones filling the air, mixing with hers.  

Was he dreaming? This couldn’t be real. He didn’t deserve this— her trust, her want, her body beneath him.

But Bucky’s inner Alpha was crowing. The feel of her against him, her scent lighting his body on fire from the inside out— it stirred up the deepest, darkest, most possessive Alpha instincts buried deep within. Not Steve’s. Mine. My Omega.

Y/N snaked a hand up his chest, pressing her cool palm to the side of his face and nudging his gaze up to meet hers. Her pupils were blown wide, plush lower lip pulled between her teeth— almost shy. The look shook Bucky out of his mindless Alpha stupor. He had to be sure. Because once he was…

He pulled back slightly so she could breathe. “Is this— Do you want this?” he asked, voice rough with need.

“Yes.”

———

The moment the word slipped from my lips, Bucky finally let go of the tight restraint holding himself back. I knew he was desperate before, when he had his nose buried in my neck. And I could smell the musky, warm flannel scent of his arousal in the air— feel the hard evidence of it against my hip.

But as soon as I’d finally, finally convinced this stupid, perfect, frustratingly dense Alpha that this was what I wanted— what I had wanted from the start— he let out a mind-numbing growl that made my knees go weak and shaky.

Though I was at first anticipating a rough and frenzied claiming— especially after a month of needless separation— I supposed that with Bucky’s extreme handle on his inner Alpha, it would be anything but. And I was right.

His lips were surprisingly gentle where they met mine, but insistent, commanding as he opened my mouth against his, stubble scraping at my cheek. I did my best to match his intensity, kissing back with everything I had, trying hard to communicate with more than words what he hadn’t let himself believe. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer to him, and before I could prepare myself, he scooped me up into his arms like I weighed nothing and headed towards the couch.

“No, bed,” I gasped, tearing my lips away from his for a moment. Bucky honest-to-god whined, changing course immediately to carry me further into his den, kicking his bedroom door closed behind him as we entered the space where his scent was thickest. In the low light, I could make out dark furniture and a large bed, which he settled me gently in the middle of, sheets and blankets a delicious, cedar-scented tangle around me. I could feel my heartbeat pick up, arousal thrumming through every nerve ending in my body, slick between my legs coming embarrassingly fast as my Omega prepared for the Alpha my body desperately craved.  

He hesitated for a moment once I was settled, hovering his body above mine, and I could see the glint of his steely eyes tracing down my form. I knew I didn’t look the sexiest in my cozy clothes, and I squirmed uncomfortably underneath his scrutiny, letting out my own indignant whine.

He chuckled— a dark, Alpha sound, then sat back a bit on his haunches to free his hands so that he could trace them down the curve of my sides. He stopped at the hem of my pullover, eyes flicking to meet mine. I nodded, sitting up a bit to let him pull it over my head, taking my bra with it. Once it was off, he hurled it dramatically into the furthest corner of the room, taking the pack’s scent with it. I couldn’t help but laugh at his possessive posturing, before I caught the intense look on his face as his eyes roved over my bare chest and stomach, drinking me in like he was afraid to break the spell by touching.

Goosebumps pebbled the skin of my arms, though not from cold. I reached up to pull him down closer to me, and I could feel him trembling— still holding himself back.

“Bucky,” I pleaded, arching up my lower half to press my core against his leg. He remained still, flesh and metal hands holding my waist firmly in his grasp. “Alpha,” I tried.

That worked.

With a choked-out growl, Bucky surged up against me, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses from my mouth, down my neck, across my scent glands and to my chest, where he sucked and laved at my sensitive nipples.

“Fucking perfect, Omega,” he breathed, sounding pained. “Smell so good. Like you were made for me. Unbelievable.”

I whined in response, each inhale taking in more of his heady scent, making my head swim. He kissed a hot path from my chest down my belly, nosing at my hip and the waistband of my pants. “Didn’t think you wanted this, doll. Not with me,” he said, flesh hand gripping my side hard enough to bruise. My Omega thrilled at the idea of a mark left behind. Down, girl.

He hesitated at the drawstring of my joggers, his eyes flicking up to meet mine. “Can I make you feel good, Omega?” he panted, mouth slack and plush lips wet. I hitched in a breath at the sight of him, feeling punch-drunk and so overwhelmingly turned on I had to fight the urge to close my eyes. I nodded my consent, but reached out to tug at the shoulder of his shirt first, which he ripped over his head with one hand to reveal the sculpted, shadowy planes of chest. The hard lines of him looked like they were cut from steel. Jesus Christ.

“Please,” I pleaded again, canting up my hips, and he rumbled in response, dragging down my pants and underwear in one smooth glide down my legs. I tightened my thighs together reflexively— still wanting, but momentarily shy at being completely bare for him, and the the thought of the amount of slick he’d find between my legs.

“Perfect,” he practically purred, leaning in to kiss me softly, reassuringly, slotting his hips between my legs until I was spread wide beneath him. He kissed back down my body once my breathing slowed, his cold metal hand leaving goosebumps behind as it trailed down my side to behind my knee, where he lifted my leg to throw it over his shoulder. He paused at my navel, looking up at me one more time. “Okay, doll?”

I took in a shuddering breath, the need for him to touch me overpowering my nerves, before nodding. The corner of Bucky’s mouth turned up in a smirk, making my breath catch in my throat, before he dove between my legs with what could only be described as super soldier-like intensity. He sucked slowly, teasingly at the scent glands on my inner thighs before dragging his nose through my slick folds, lapping up my slick like a man starved. He found my bundle of nerves instantly, beginning a relentless tease with his tongue.

I’d never felt anything like it. A litany of uncontrollable whimpers and moans fell from my mouth as pleasure washed over me in waves.

“Taste so good, Omega,” he growled, throwing his metal arm across my hips to hold me down as I bucked up in need against his face. “Never tasted anything like you.”

My eyes rolled back in my head as I felt his flesh hand drag along the inside of my thigh before he pressed one thick finger slowly inside me. The sounds coming out of my mouth were sinful, and I pushed my face into the pillow beside my head to muffle them as I tightened around the digit.

“Alpha, please,” I begged, squirming as I teetered on the razor sharp edge of release. He carried on, increasing the intense assault with his tongue, before adding another finger next to his first, canting them both up towards my navel in a slow drag inside me. The fullness is what pushed me over the edge with a cry. He loosened his hold on my hips to let me ride it out against his mouth until I pulled away sharply with the sting of oversensitivity. He slipped his fingers from me drenched in slick, bringing heat to my cheeks, before licking his fingers clean with his gaze trained on mine.

“God,” I gasped out as my heart rate started to come down, feeling lightheaded and tingly all over from the best orgasm I’d ever had in my fucking life.

“Thanks, but you can call me Bucky.”

Did he— I barked out a disbelieving laugh at the absolute, shit-eating grin on his face— a carefree, pleased look I hadn’t seen before in the short time I’d known the Alpha.

He laughed with me, before moving back up the bed, pressing his burning hot chest to mine, and leaning in for a slow, lingering kiss. The waistband of his pants dug into my hip, along with the shockingly hard length of him.

“Oh, I didn’t—“ I broke away from his mouth, moving my fingers down to scrabble at the button of his pants, but he gently moved my hand away with one of his own.

“You don’t need to,” he said, his voice deep and rough— sounding just as fucked out as me, though I hadn’t even touched him.

I frowned. “But I want to. Do you not want me to—“

He cut me off with a kiss, before dropping his forehead to my chest. I could feel his breath fanning out across my skin, my nipples peaking in interest even though I felt thoroughly sated already.

“Jesus, doll. Of course I do.” He lifted his head up, meeting my gaze, and I could see his jaw clenching as he fought for the right words. When I’d first met him I’d chalked up his taciturn mannerism as a side effect of the rut, but now, I realized it was just another endearing facet of his personality. He liked to make every word he spoke count. Makes sense when you spent seventy years in a muzzle.

“I don’t want you to feel… pressured,” he finished.

This again? I leaned down, pulling a blanket up and over my frame to cover my naked lower half, and Bucky moved off me slightly.We probably should have talked more before Bucky decided to take me to the astral plane— but I certainly wasn’t complaining about the way things had progressed, and by the scent of proud Alpha that still lingered in the air, he hadn’t minded either.

“Bucky, I don’t blame you for anything that happened in that cell. Not even a little bit,” I began. He sighed, breaking eye contact to look down at his flesh hand, which he’d fanned out across my belly. I wasn’t a petite woman, but underneath his massive hand, I felt… small and safe in the best way. A way that made my Omega sing with pleasure at having found a match that could both provide and protect in the ways I needed him to. “It didn't even occur to me that I should blame you. If anything, I was grateful. You protected me and comforted me in a way that very few Alphas would have been able to while in rut.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, but his scent hadn’t sunk back into the sour distress of our earlier confrontation, so I knew he had heard me. He shifted to lie down on his back, lifting his flesh arm over my head to scoop me against his chest. I snuggled up to meet him, curling up against his side with my head pillowed on his massive bicep.

It felt… right— like two puzzle pieces finally joining— and I was suddenly reminded of the ache, or rather, the lack of it.

“You asked me earlier if I felt it too,” I whispered, the moment quiet and sacred in the muted light of Bucky’s den. I lifted my eyes to look at him to find he was already gazing down at me. “I know this is crazy for me to say, but this just feels so—“

“Right,” he said, finishing my sentence for me. “It feels right. And my chest doesn’t hurt anymore, now that you’re here.”

“It’s gone for me too. Bucky— god— I thought I was going crazy. I thought you hated me. I thought I was going to have to leave the pack,” I whined, feeling the low-level anxiety of the past few weeks rush back in one big wave. Bucky must have scented the intensity of my distress, because he shushed me softly, running a soothing hand up and down my back, before nudging my head onto his chest and starting up that painfully familiar rumble that I’d yearned for for weeks. His purr.

I instantly melted against him, feeling anxiety make way for comfort and bliss as every muscle in my body let go of the tension it was holding. I let out an involuntary moan of relief as I drowned in his purr and the cedar scent that surrounded me like a cocoon.

“’S fucking good,” I slurred, and I could feel Bucky’s laugh cut through the vibrations.

Reluctantly, I pulled my head away from his chest so that I could meet his eyes again. He was still staring, like I was a puzzle he couldn’t decipher. I shivered.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said. I immediately opened my mouth to protest, but he stopped me. “No, listen. I should have apologized to you as soon as we got back. But I was afraid.” He said it resolutely, unfalteringly. An Alpha admitting their fear was rare. But Bucky wasn’t a typical Alpha. “I was afraid of what I was feeling— of what you might be feeling. And when I saw you with Steve, I just thought—“ he paused, closing his eyes. “I thought I could move on. That you had made the right choice.”

Though my heart hurt to think of the turmoil that Bucky had put himself through over the past month, I had to smirk. Bucky might be different in other ways, but his jealousy over my imagined relationship with Steve was stereotypical Alpha.

“Is that why you started leaving me secret gifts?” I asked teasingly, feeling a smile curling across my lips. “Saw another Alpha swoop in and had to prove you could provide?”

Bucky flopped his head back against the pillow with a groan, scrunching up his eyes in embarrassment, and I laughed at his chagrin.

“I knew it was weird,” he said. “But it made it hurt less. To know I could… provide for you in some way. Sorry. I know I sound like a knothead.”

“Don’t apologize. That blanket will be perfect for our nest,” I said innocently, fluttering my eyelashes. Bucky stiffened under me immediately at the thought. I giggled, and the Alpha rolled back on top of me in a flash, letting out a teasing growl as his arms caged me in.

I squirmed underneath him as he pressed gentle kisses down my neck, tongue laving across my scent glands, sending a jolt of arousal through my thoroughly relaxed body.  

“How do you smell so incredible?” he grumbled against my skin, inhaling deeply. I took the opportunity to move my hand down across his bare chest again, sneaking towards his waistband, but Bucky caught my hand again gently, lacing our fingers together. He stopped his ministrations against my glands, and lifted his face up to meet mine again.

“Not tonight,” he murmured. “But will you stay?”

I nodded then, feeling suddenly shy and exposed underneath him. I wiggled down off the bed to pull on my soft pants and pullover, leaving my bra and slick-soaked underwear on the floor, while Bucky tugged off his pants, leaving him in black boxer briefs that showed off the rippling muscles of his thighs. God. Damn.

As I curled up again next to him, pulling the blankets up and over the tangle of our legs, a bone-deep tiredness settled over me, my body finally feeling relaxed and safe enough to slip into sleep after weeks of insomnia. He pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead, before looping his arms around me firmly and starting up his Alpha purr once again.

Tomorrow, we’d finish talking. Tomorrow, we’d figure out what was up with our strange connection. And tomorrow, it was my turn to make Bucky feel just as good as I had.

But right now? I nuzzled my face into his chest, savoring the cent of cedar and bonfire, and knew—irrevocably— that I was finally home.  

[hannahindie]

Yellow

Characters: Sam Winchester x Reader Word Count: 1,311 Warning: None, really. Little angsty, but don’t let that get you down. Author’s Note: So I was supposed to do this for @pinknerdpanda​’s birthday, along with two other ones, and I am horribly late. I just like to say that we’re drawing her birthday out, because she’s a precious angel baby and I like be her a LOT. So this is for her, and I listened to Yellow by Coldplay while I wrote it. You can listen to it HERE.

Beta’d by the ever lovely @amanda-teaches​, who helps me get my words to work. Also, she’s the best.

Anywho, here you go! I hope you enjoy, and if you’d like to be added to my tag list, please let me know. Thanks!

The wind blew her hair around her face as she stared out at the ocean, her toes dug into the cold sand as she let the sound of the tide roll over her. The stars were bright, like someone had punched holes into a pitch black piece of paper and held it up to a stark, white light. She couldn’t remember ever seeing such a clear sight, and she crossed her arms tighter against the wind as she stared at the broken reflection of the moon. 

 She considered leaving, the time to meet had long come and gone, but she felt rooted in place. The cold water swept in, chilling her to the bone, before sweeping back and depositing another layer of sand over her bare feet. She could hear the voice in her head, telling her to get out of the water, it was too cold, but there was something soothing about sinking into the sand. 

Perhaps she had been silly to think he would come. It had been over a year since she had seen him, or even spoken to him, and to expect him to meet her here had been foolish. The tightness in her chest grew, and she looked back up at the stars and wondered if he was looking at them wherever he might be. She hoped that his circumstances had changed and that he could see them; he had always loved the stars. Their lives were so different...but at least that could be the same. The thought brought some solace, and she took a deep breath of the salty air as she closed her eyes, relishing the crisp air for a moment longer.

“Beautiful, huh?” The sudden voice startled her, and she turned to face the owner.

“Sam?” 

“Hey.” He stared at her, his shaggy hair blowing across his face. 

Her heart was in her throat as she took him in, the way he stood, how his flannel clung to him. Things she thought she had remembered but was suddenly reminded that she had vastly underestimated. 

“You came.” The words were strained as she tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. 

“Sorry I’m late. I...I wasn’t sure if you still wanted me to come.”

“I wasn’t sure you even could.” 

He tilted his head, his brows furrowed, “Dean didn’t tell you?” 

She shook her head, confusion etched on her face, “No...tell me what?” 

He took a few steps forward, closing the gap between them, “It’s a long story. And you deserve to know, you deserve to know all of it, but right now I’m just glad you’re here.” He glanced down and noticed her bare feet still buried in the sand, “It’s too cold for that, you should be wearing shoes.” 

She laughed, and the tears she had been holding back finally fell. She quickly wiped them away. “Yea,” she sniffled, “probably not the best idea I’ve ever had.” 

He shrugged, “I can think of worse.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up, “Look at the stars...it’s like they shine for you. I’ve never seen them so bright.” 

“Yea, me neither.” She watched him for a moment, the sea breeze ruffling his already messy hair, and wanted to reach out and brush it from his face. “I thought you were gone for good.”

“I thought I was, too. So did Dean. I honestly didn’t expect to get out of the cage, and when I did...I wasn’t me. It’s been a hell of a year-“ 

“A year?” She took a step back, shaking her head, “You’ve been back for over a year, and you didn’t tell me? You didn’t...you didn’t think I deserved at least a text?” 

“I wasn’t me when I came back, Y/N. I wasn’t...safe to be around. I thought I was doing you and Dean both a favor, but I get that that wasn’t the right choice. I’ll explain everything, but I need you to understand why I waited. I was broken, and you deserved more than just a text.” 

“Not safe? I was always safest with you, that’s not an excuse-“ 

“I didn’t have a soul, Y/N.” 

She fell silent, watching as the gentle giant in front of her seemed to shrink as he waited for her reaction. She knew he’d faced rejection before, of how often he doubted his own goodness, and realized how hard it was for him to admit that to her. 

“Your soul...how?” 

“I’m, uh...still trying to figure that out. Dean, he got it back, made a deal with Death. It’s a lot to explain.” 

“I can see that…” 

“But, I wasn’t good to be around. Me without a soul...I didn’t care about the consequences of my actions. Everything was a means to an end, and somehow I knew I couldn’t tell you I was back. I didn’t care, about you, about anything. But I knew you’d be in danger if I let myself be near you while I was like that. It’s not an excuse, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” 

She was speechless. She was angry; at Sam for not telling her, at Dean for not letting her know what was going on, at herself for not staying in touch with Dean. Nothing about the situation made things easy for any of them, and she was angry that there wasn’t a simple scapegoat to blame it all on. 

“You don’t have to apologize. I mean, I’m angry, yea, but the situation...would normal people go through that? How do you even know what’s best in that situation?” She paused, unsure if she should continue. “You know I love you, right? I love you, and I have since before you fought Michael. I should have told you,, but I was afraid.” 

“Afraid of what? Loving a hunter? I can’t say I blame you.” 

“No, that’s not it. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done, but sharing you with a world that needs you? It’s terrifying. But, it’s also important, and I was afraid if I told you that you might change your mind. Stupid, I know that now, but at the time…” She shook her head, “Our lives are so different. I’m just some girl you met at the library, interested in the same things for different reasons. The end of the world was at stake. I made a choice, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I love you, Sam, so, so much.” 

She braced herself for the inevitable; meeting here was nice, but how could it ever work? Instead, she was suddenly lifted off her feet, thick arms wrapped around her waist, and his lips were on hers. She gasped as he shifted and his large hands gripped her ass. Despite the chill in the air, Sam was like a heater, and she could feel his warmth through her thick sweater. He pulled away, his teeth biting gently at her lower lip before totally breaking off the kiss. 

“I love you, too,” he rasped quietly, breathing heavily as he stared into her eyes. “I’m sorry for everything, Y/N, more than I can make up for.”

“Just don’t leave me like that again. That’s a good start,” she said, kissing him gently on the nose. “Your nose is cold, let’s get out of here and some place warmer.” 

“Agreed,” he said as he swung her around his waist, hooking his arms under her knees so that she was clinging to his back, “Waffles?” 

She laughed, impressed that he remembered her favorite late night snack, “Waffles.” He nodded, then slowly began the walk from the beach to the car. Y/N tilted her head back and looked at the stars one last time, the crashing of the waves fading as they moved further away.

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Forever Tags: @pinknerdpanda​ @wheresthekillswitch​ @amanda-teaches​ @masksandtruths​ @escabell​ @trexrambling​ @cosicas-cuquis @ladylachesis @amanda-teaches​ @ilsawasanacrobat​ @docssoulshine​ @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout​ @charliebradbury1104​ @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes​  @deanssweetheart23​  @canadianjelly​ @super-not-naturall​ @aubreyreadsstuff​ @fandomismyspirit​ @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell​ @owllover123​ @rosie-winchester​ @amionthetumbler​ @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr​ @nanie5​ @mrssamfuckingwinchester​ @zincomms​ @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud​ @barbedwireandbubblegum​ @sandlee44​ @boxywrites​ @justanotherdeangirl​ @smalltowndivaj​ @captainradicalpassion​ @myloveforyouxx @atc74​ @mrsbatesmotel53​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @thelittleredwhocould​ @jotink78​ @ @squirrel-moose-winchester​ @anticipate1003​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @mogaruke​ @speakinvain​ @linki-locks11​ @wildlandfox​ @rhochradel​ @lostnliterature @eternal-elir @spn-ficfanatic​ @polina-93​ @lexiiiii28 @poukothenerd​ @emoryhemsworth​ @yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend​ @closetspngirl​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​ @hunterscabin

[inkribbon796]

Like a House of Cards Ch. 2: Not What He Seems

Summary: With their new glitch in the system captured, the heroes need to figure out what to do.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

After they had finally caught him, Logan didn’t scream or hiss at them. He was entirely too calm, just sitting within the circle, seemingly meditating or sleeping. One leg knit under the other, his back perfectly straight, and his eyes closed.

It wasn’t until Marvin walked in that Logan seemed to glare at him with unfathomable hatred, and because Nate and Bing were close enough that they watched his pupils dilate with robotic precision.

He didn’t say anything, just staring at Marvin and Nate.

“Logan?” Joan came as close as he was allowed. “You okay, buddy?”

The trapped Suit broke eye contact with Marvin to look at Joan. To them he seemed perfectly normal. His normal polo shirt and square glasses. His mouth was its usual flat line. “I am more than sufficient.”

To Joan, Logan didn’t look like a demon. He looked like he always had.

“Hey big guy,” Marvin smiled, leaning down a bit with his hands on his knees. “Don’t worry, we’ll make yeh[1] feel better soon.”

“When I get out of this, I will shove your tongue through your larynx and make a xylophone out of your rib cage,” Logan threatened Marvin.

“Yikes,” Marvin commented, the venom in the threat surprising everyone. “What did I do? Piss in yer[2] coffee?”

“If you had just done that I would have killed you outright and been done with it,” Logan didn’t even blink.

“How far gone is he?” Marvin asked, “I’ve ne’er[3] seen one go through a shift.”

“Hard to say,” Nate sighed. “He should still be within the first stages, but he’s got all the signs of a fully turned demon.”

“Would twenty fookin[4] years be enough?” Marvin suggested.

Nate shook his head, “No, he would have much more apparent signs that the process was starting.”

Ethan and Chase ran in, Ethan was looking around, “You guys catch him?”

Then he stiffened nervously, “Oh there he is, is that Logan, he doesn’t look like a demon.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem, he reeks of glitch demon aura,” Mare told him. Mare got dangerously close to the circle, hoping for a territorial reaction but Logan just stared at him. “He’s been coached. He should be hissing at me. He should be doing something.”

Logan just stared at him, not blinking and not defending or rejecting Mare’s accusation.

“So who got you that body?” Mare asked. “I know you’re in one.”

“Perhaps you should go and pleasure yourself with a cactus, you might find your answers there,” Logan told Mare.

“Points for creativity, Pixels,” Mare smiled and he could have sworn he saw the shadow of a smug smile on his face.

“How far along is he?” Ethan asked, kneeling next to Logan but not within arm’s reach. “I didn’t know people could turn into demons.”

“They do it all the time, if there’s enough trauma to the soul to cause it,” Mare explained.

Bing suddenly raced out of the room, he’d been trying to get the base off the lockdown protocol and the instant he did was flooded with messages and warnings. The city was in a crisis while they’d been off line. “Battle stations, everyone. There’s something wrong.”

Wade, Jackie, and Marvin raced out with Bing as Mare and Nate hesitated next to Logan. Ethan was right behind the three and Jackie had already dashed off to the comms room as fast as the corners allowed.

Once the three remaining heroes had cleared the doorway, “Ethan” elbowed through a piece of weak glass and pressed in a code before hitting the big button that sealed the entryway and the common room from the rest of the base.

Wade turned around to see the smile on Hearts’s face as the door shut closed and the anti-magic wards came up to protect the base from magical intruders.

“The hell, Crank,” Nate shouted.

“Chase” took out a baton and slammed it into Mare, and caused the demon’s tentative corporeal form to shatter apart and rush for Nate’s body for safety. The sudden rush of aura caused Nate to collapse and drop to the ground, unconscious.

“Five minutes,” Chase set his watch.

“We won’t even need two,” Ethan chuckled as he took something off his belt and cuffed Nate’s hands in magic-nullifying cuffs. Then he pulled up a chair and smiled at Logan. The Suit made a pretty pathetic mockery of Logan’s voice. “I’m not gonna get captured, I know what I’m doing. I’m fuckin’ Logan. I’m hot shit in a fucking champagne glass.”

“Enough,” Logan glared at him.

“Oooh, I can go through walls, I’m unstoppable” Ethan taunted.

“Are you going to help me or not?” Logan growled, clearly angry.

Ethan leaned forward, the tip of his nose centimeters from crossing the circle’s barrier, “So how’s Patton?”

“Safe,” Logan promised, his tone dangerous. “I told you, he doesn’t feel anything anymore. Complete topor.”

“I know not to trust a demon,” Ethan reminded. “ Especially when they’re trying to sell me bullshit. I saw him when you took him out last time. He was looking bad.”

“He’s fine,” Logan snarled. “I have the situation under control. He is not a threat, he is sleeping.”

“Fine, let me hold him, and I’ll let you back out,” Ethan proposed.

“You are not taking him anywhere,” Logan growled. “He is mine.”

“You demons are just sad, old bastards who can’t let the past die,” Ethan reminded. “If you actually cared you’d take Patton out into the Mojave and I don’t know, turn him loose. Not like he’s gonna start killing immediately. You guys don’t lose everything day one, right?”

Then bangs on the door began in earnest and Chase glared at Ethan, “Two minutes, huh?”

“Hey math, wasn’t my strong suit,” Ethan chuckled and broke the circle with his foot. Logan immediately rushed for the door. He was out first before slamming into the barrier that had been designed to keep Lunky in now kept Logan in.

Chase caught up and his hand went through the back Logan’s chest and grabbed the handle of a blue solid state drive, a single golden heart locket hanging from the notch on the drive. the nanites surged into the drive just before Chase took him through the boundary. Ethan was hot on his heels as they raced out. They stilled to a halt at the sight of the huge black energy dome that covered over half the town.

“Well that was fast,” Ethan said as he looked up. “What is this, the second time we’ve seen the dome?”

“Yeah,” Chase commented and brought up a nanite shield and braced as Jackie slammed into it. “Fookin’[4] go!”

The nanites surged around the solid state drive and Logan appeared, his eyes still glowing a fierce blue for a couple seconds after forming.

“I’ll get the generator,” Logan called out as Ethan disappeared with his invisibility. He took a step before Bing was facing towards him with a laser.

“Yer not goin’ anywhere,”[5] Bing warned.

“Crank, where are yeh[1]?” Marvin demanded angrily. “I just wanna[6] talk.”

“The hell are yeh fookers?”[7] Jackie spat at Chase. “Yer[8] not Average.”

Jackie felt a ripple of time wash over them and at first felt relief, until he was suddenly face-first on the asphalt, Bing was a block down from them and fighting with Logan, and Marvin felt already drained of some magic in a fight he couldn’t remember.

Then there was the harsh force of a foot stomped into Jackie’s back. “Why don’t you take a rest, ol’[9] boy?”

Jackie felt horror coursing through his system, a matching look on Marvin’s face. The speeder knew that voice, he hadn’t heard it in years and it was half buried by a filter, but the cadence was the same.

He looked up to see J.J standing there, his foot planted squarely on Jackie’s back. He should have felt relief that he was here to help. But all he felt was a cold chill.

J.J was mute. Magic nor medicine had helped after Anti’s first attack against him and his emerging powers had destroyed his vocal cords.

And the idea of fighting another J.J terrified him.

“You seem troubled, old boy,” J.J had a smile on his face, his voice sounded like an old timey radio announcer, but that voice was fed through a crackling speaker of some kind.

“No,” a slow dawning washing over Séan like an ice bath. How the imposters had gotten so close. How they had managed to stay unseen for so long. And how none of them had been reset to prevent it.

If not for Joan’s text who knows how long they would have gotten away with it?

“How?” Jackie asked. “What’d yah do ta J.J?”[10]

“Well the lad wouldn’t keep helping us so he had to take a little vacation,” false-J.J admitted. “He should be back in about two weeks.”

“What do yeh[1] want with us?” Jackie demanded. “We got somethin’ yeh want?”[11]

That question earned Jackie a smile, and moved to open his mouth but another ripple in time happened and J.J jumped back just in time to not get hit by Silver who was flying by. Bob and Amy charging in at the same time. Bob’s shield hitting something as he was rolling in. Which was Ethan, and it caused his invisibility to go out for a second which let Marvin blast him with magic and Ethan was further knocked back.

“Googs, now is not the time ta grow a ****in’ conscious, help me catch ‘im!”[12] Bing shouted as he was chasing Logan back towards the base who was shooting from electrical outlet to electrical outlet trying to escape towards the Gainesville part of the city. Google wasn’t that far behind.

Chase’s arm was covered with nanites and he snagged Logan out of the air, pulling out his solid state drive by the handle. Marvin watched the little locket jingle. “Hold it, hold it Lo.”

There was an angry crackle of electricity before Logan reformed as Bing and Google followed him out of the closest electrical outlet or bundle of wires.

The heroes and villains around the area facing down against the Suits as the dome loomed overhead in the city’s skyline.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. you

2. your

3. never

4. fucking

5. You’re not going anywhere

6. want to

7. Who the hell are you fuckers?

8. You’re

9. old

10. What did you do to J.J?

11. We got something you want?

12. Googs, now is not the time to grow a fucking conscious, help me catch him!

[gatesofember]

The Squire’s Favor

Rating: G | Pairing: Solangelo | Read it on AO3 or continue below

Summary: Nico, a young squire in Olympus, has been best friends with Will since he was eight years old and Hades sent him away to train to be a knight. Over time, his feelings for Will have grown beyond friendly admiration. He hopes that his performance at the squire’s tourney will finally impress his friend—perhaps even enough for Will to want to court him.

...or maybe Will has felt the same way all along.

For Solangelo Week Day 4: Free Day  ( @solangeloweek ​)

As a general rule, Nico did not enjoy going to the physician. He did not like being prodded with strange medical instruments, smeared with rancid salves, or force-fed foul concoctions that would supposedly make him feel better.

But Nico dreaded it a little bit less nowadays. His best friend, Will, had wanted to be a healer ever since his mother died of fever when they were children. After Lord Apollo approved Will’s request to study under Chiron a few years ago, going to the physician had started to become almost pleasant.

Almost. Nico still held off going to the healing tent until it became obvious that he’d be at a disadvantage in the tourney’s melee if he didn’t get the cut on his arm tended to.

To Nico’s surprise, he found Will waiting for him outside the tent. His arms sat crossed over an undyed tabard and the leather strap of his medicine bag, but his doublet was awfully brightly colored for someone tending to the wounded. Will didn’t usually risk ruining his clothes like that. Nico noticed a spot of brown blood on the hem of his sleeve and smirked as he imagined the fit Will must’ve had when he saw it.

“Don’t give me that look,” Will snapped, but his tone didn’t have much real bite. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to drag you back here myself. What took you so long?”

Nico blinked, bewildered by Will’s temper. “What?”

“You certainly took your time coming here for treatment,” Will said, pulling back the flap of the tent and gesturing Nico inside.

Nico didn’t move. “How did you know I was hurt?”

Will suddenly averted his eyes like he was embarrassed. “Heard from some of the other squires ‘s all,” he mumbled. “It’s not like I was...you know....”

Nico tried and failed to fight back his smile. “Will,” he said, “were you watching the tourney?”

Will sniffed. “Of course not. You know I hate those things—men running around swatting each other with sticks and swords for no good reason.”

Nico beamed. “You did watch, didn’t you?” he asked. He hadn’t thought that Will would get the chance, but he’d hoped anyway. Maybe once he saw Nico competing in a tourney, Will would suddenly realize how dashing his best friend had grown to become and he’d sweep Nico off his feet—

Except, of course, Will had seen him unseated in a joust. Nico wasn’t going to impress anyone by falling off his saddle.

“I’m usually much better than that, you know,” Nico said. “It’s just that horses don’t like me.”

Will’s expression softened. “I think you did wonderfully,” he said. “Now are you going to make me keep holding the flap open or are you going to get inside and let me look at that arm?”

Nico happily acquiesced. Once inside, Will had Nico sit on an empty cot before he helped remove Nico’s gauntlet and arm braces, tutting when he saw the blood-stained rip in Nico’s sleeve.

“I still think you’re too young to be participating in these tourneys,” Will said as he dipped a cloth in a bucket of water. “At least there aren’t any knights competing in the squire’s events.”

Nico bristled like an angry cat. “I’m no younger than you!”

“I’m not the one running around with a sword,” said Will. He wrung out the excess water before returning to sit beside Nico. “But I really do think that you did well—I was just scared when I saw you fall and sometimes I worry because the other squires are so much older than us. It wasn’t long ago that you were only a page.”

Nico sighed. When he became a squire last year, he’d hoped that Will would see how brave and handsome he’d become in the six years since Hades had sent him off to become a page in Olympus. But no; Will still looked at him the same way he always had.

“I’m fifteen now; not all of them are older than us,” Nico grumbled, but his argument was cut short when he hissed as Will pressed the cloth to his wound.

“Does it hurt?” Will asked.

“Just stings,” Nico answered. “It’s not deep.”

Will nodded. “Good,” he said. “Much better than last year, anyway.”

“That was as much Percy’s fault as it was mine!” Nico protested. “He wouldn’t have broken my arm if he’d tilted properly.”

“Yes, you’ve told me,” Will said as he wiped Nico’s skin clean of blood. “I was furious with Percy until I found out how guilty he felt about it.” Satisfied with the cleanliness, Will held Nico’s arm up to examine the wound more closely. It was still bleeding steadily, but Will didn’t seem concerned. “This isn’t the worst I’ve seen today. Connor was a mess after facing Sherman.”

Nico grimaced. “Sherman got quite the lecture on knightly decorum for that.”

“Good,” muttered Will. He released Nico’s arm and stood back up to fetch the salve and some bandages. “Honestly, I was glad to see you unseat him.”

Nico sat up straighter. “You watched that round?”

“I wasn’t going to sit here when I heard you’d be facing Sherman after seeing the damage he’d done to Connor,” said Will. “Obviously I didn't need to worry. You got him at the first pass.”

Nico beamed proudly, glad that Will had witnessed more than his embarrassing defeat by Jason’s lance.

“Weren’t you scared?” Will asked as he rejoined Nico.

“Not really,” Nico replied. “Sherman doesn’t have good balance.”

Will shook his head with a smile. “You aren’t afraid of anything, are you?”

Nico blushed. He was scared of a lot of things—most notably, confessing his feelings to Will, being rejected, and sullying their friendship forever. That was terrifying, even if Will did sometimes look at Nico in ways that made him hope....

“I’m not scared of a friendly duel,” Nico said instead. “Especially not when I know you’ll take care of me if I get hurt.”

Will dipped his fingers in the jar of salve and didn’t look up. “Of course I will,” he said. To Nico’s surprise, he noticed that Will had gone red.

Nico forced himself not to jump at the first touch of Will’s fingers, gently rubbing the salve over his wound and leaving a cool, tingling sensation in their wake.

This was why Nico didn’t mind visits to the physicians so much anymore. He loved the tender touch of Will’s soft, healing hands. He loved the excuse to sit close to Will—close enough to make out each individual golden eyelash and to see light, faded freckles that he didn’t notice from farther away. He loved the serious, focused look in Will’s eyes and the careful attention that Will always paid his injuries. When Will showed him such tenderness, Nico felt safe and warm and for a wonderful moment, he could almost believe that his feelings for Will weren’t one-sided.

Will glanced up. Nico wasn’t fast enough to pretend he hadn’t been staring, but Will didn’t say anything. He just blushed and silently reached for the bandages.

Sometimes, Nico thought that being with Will was more dangerous than any joust or melee. When Will looked at Nico like that, with his cheeks pinking shyly and his pretty eyes watching Nico like he was the most important person in the room, Nico couldn’t help the hope that maybe there was a romance blossoming between them. Maybe Will did feel the same way.

But Will finished the bandages like he always did, rinsed his hands clean of blood and salve, and cleared his throat. “That’s enough for now,” he said. “You should be fine for the melee. I’ll change your bandages in a few days.”

Nico tried to repress his disappointment. He didn’t know what he’d been hoping for—that Will would suddenly confess to him? That Will would kiss him right there in the middle of the tent?

That last ridiculous thought made Nico blush so hard that he felt dizzy.

Regardless, that fantasy wasn’t going to happen. But it was alright. Nico was happy enough being Will’s friend.

“Thank you,” he said, gathering his discarded braces and gauntlet.

“Do you need help putting that back on?” Will asked.

Nico shook his head. “No, that’s alright. I have to change my armor anyway.”

When Will nodded, Nico thought he imagined just a bit of disappointment in his eyes. “Be careful,” Will said. “Come right back if you get hurt.”

“I will,” said Nico. “Will you watch the melee?”

Will averted his eyes again. “As long as there aren’t any emergencies that Chiron needs my help with, I’ll go. I promise.”

Nico beamed. Will would watch. He always kept his promises. Before he thought better of it, Nico reached out and touched Will’s arm. “Thank you,” he said again, and left.

Nico had only gotten two steps out of the tent when the flap opened behind him and he heard Will say, “Nico, wait.”

Nico stopped and turned to see Will rummaging through the bag hanging at his side.

“I thought you might take this,” Will said, pulling out a white handkerchief embroidered with a golden lyre.

Nico’s breath caught. He knew what it meant when a lady gave a token like this. Annabeth had given Percy favors like ribbons and handkerchiefs before, and Percy, in peculiar fashion, had gifted some to Annabeth, as well. Bestowing favors was something ladies did only when they had a romantic interest in a man—or, in the case of Percy and Annabeth, when a man had a romantic interest in a lady. Although Nico had never heard of one man giving such a token to another, the implication was clear.

But this handkerchief, if possible, meant more than that. Nico recognized the embroidered lyre immediately.

“That’s your mother’s,” Nico said, and Will nodded. Naomi had been a favorite minstrel of Lord Apollo before her death and she’d embroidered her instrument of choice as often as she could; many of Will’s clothes had had lyres embroidered on them when they were young. Although Nico, who had also lost his mother, had tried his best to comfort him, Will had been so distraught when Naomi died. Will treasured everything that she had left him, so if he was willing to give this handkerchief to Nico....

Nico set his braces and gauntlet down on the ground and stepped forward, slowly reaching out to cover Will’s hands with his own. “Are you sure?”

Will nodded again. “I want you to,” he said. “Actually, I meant to give it to you this morning before the joust, but...I didn’t get the chance.”

Nico remembered Will coming to his tent that morning while Nico was preparing with Percy and Jason. Will had wished him luck and left abruptly. Nico had thought Will’s behavior seemed odd, but he’d brushed his concerns aside before the joust. Had Will been nervous? And if Will had intended to give the handkerchief to Nico before the joust, then maybe Nico hadn’t needed to try so hard to impress him. Maybe Will had already liked Nico the same way Nico liked Will.

Will cleared his throat. “But I expect you to bring this back to me in perfect condition. Not a single tear or drop of blood. So you’ll have to be careful.”

Nico nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

He felt Will’s fingers tense under his hands, then Will suddenly lifted the handkerchief to his lips and kissed the fabric. Nico’s fingers brushed against Will’s face, feeling the warmth of his skin for just a second before Will pushed the handkerchief against Nico’s chest.

“For luck,” he said, his face going dark red as he pulled away. Nico doubted that he looked much better. “I’d like you to wear it under your arm braces. If you want, of course.”

Nico’s fingers curled into the fabric as he fought to stop himself from going into a daze or swooning on the spot. He blinked three times to wake himself up, then held out his bandaged arm. “Help me tie it?”

Will nodded and took the handkerchief back, folding it in half before wrapping it around Nico’s forearm and knotting it beneath his wound. Nico felt Will’s touch burning him through his sleeve and bandages.

“Be safe,” Will said when he finished, stepping away and putting his hands behind his back.

Nico’s tongue felt too heavy and his mouth felt too dry to respond, so he just nodded, picked up his braces and gauntlets, and hurried back to his tent. He could hardly feel the ground under his feet.

*   *   *

Nico didn’t win the melee, but he hadn’t expected to; the victory usually went to the older squires who had trained longer than Nico—Percy or Jason in particular. This tourney had been Percy’s win, but Nico suspected that Jason allowed Percy to beat him. Everyone had known that the victor’s reward would be a kiss from the Lady Annabeth and the honor of escorting her to the feast.

After Percy happily accepted his prize, Nico had congratulated him and returned to the castle to clean and change for the night’s celebration. He’d been sitting with the other squires throughout the feast, occasionally glancing up the table to where Will sat beside his father (and, Nico noted, where Percy and Annabeth sat next to a grumpy-looking Lady Athena). A few times, Nico caught Will looking back at him, and once or twice, Will glanced up and caught Nico doing the same. Every time their eyes met, Will smiled and offered a shy little wave. That much alone made Nico feel like melting on the spot. He had to stop himself from causing a scene by getting up in the middle of the feast either to run away from his nerves or to sweep Will off his feet—he wasn’t sure which was more likely. Nico had a gift for Will tucked in one sleeve, burning against his skin, and Naomi’s handkerchief tucked in the other. Will had made the first gesture. Nico would reciprocate it properly.

Later, when the feast ended and the dancing began, Will caught Nico’s eye again and smiled, whispered something to his father, and then looked back at Nico and tilted his head towards the door as an indication to follow as he left. Nico made his excuses to the other squires and went after him.

He caught sight of Will in the corridor, descending the palace’s stairs, and then found him outside in a secluded corner near the physician’s tower. It was dark, but dimly lit by the torches along the castle and the brightness of the night’s half moon.

“You shouldn’t wander into dark corners by yourself,” Nico chided, but his breath caught when Will turned around. He had to remind himself not to get swept away in the firelight’s reflection in Will’s eyes. Looking at Will’s eyes for too long was always dangerous.

“I’m not afraid,” Will said. “Not when I have a certain noble squire watching over me.”

Nico blushed. “I-I kept it safe for you,” he blurted out.

Will tilted his head to the side. “What?”

“Your handkerchief,” Nico said, looking away from Will’s dangerously blue eyes to pull Naomi’s handkerchief from his sleeve. “No rips or blood. It did get a bit wrinkled and sweaty under my braces, but that can be cleaned easily. Oh, I...I should have washed it before returning it to you. I can—”

Will stepped forward and Nico stuttered to a halt. “Thank you for keeping it safe,” Will said. “I knew you would.”

Nico swallowed and stopped fiddling with the handkerchief. When he offered it to Will, Will accepted, his fingers brushing over Nico’s as he did.

“Did you watch the melee?” Nico asked.

“Of course I did,” Will answered.

“Good,” Nico said. “I mean, you didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did.”

“I know. That’s why I went. It’s important to you.”

Nico hoped that the heat on his face wasn’t obvious.

“I thought you were impressive,” Will added.

Nico huffed to hide how pleased the compliment made him. “Hardly. I didn’t win. Many of the others are far more impressive than I am.”

Will cast his glance downward. “I wouldn’t know.”

Nico rolled his eyes, aiming for playful rather than truly bothered and hoping that Will understood. “Right, you know nothing about swordsmanship and melees or anything to do with ‘men running around hitting each other for no good reason,’” he teased.

The corner of Will’s mouth twitched in amusement.   “That wasn’t what I meant, actually,” said Will. “I wouldn’t know how impressive anyone else was because you were the only one I was paying attention to.”

Nico’s mouth felt dry. He swallowed. “The only...?”

Will raised his shoulders like he’d said nothing of consequence, but it was clear from the way he avoided looking directly at Nico’s eyes that he felt nervous. “Why would I want to watch anyone else?”

Nico’s mind went blank and for a second, he thought he had quite literally swooned. “I...” he started, then he cleared his throat, remembered the gift still in his sleeve, and steeled his resolve. “I have something for you,” he said, and pulled the second handkerchief from his sleeve. It had more embroidery than Naomi’s, with vines connecting asphodel flowers around the perimeter and an elegant M in the center.

Nico wasn’t brave enough to look, but he heard a soft intake of breath from Will’s lips.

“That was Lady Maria’s, wasn’t it?” Will asked.

Nico nodded.

“Why are you giving it to me?”

Nico tried for a shrug, but doubted he seemed as nonchalant as he would have liked. “I just want you to have it,” he said.

There was a single beat of terrifying silence before Will said, “Then perhaps you should hold onto this one a little longer,” and offered Nico Naomi’s handkerchief again.

“Thank you,” Nico stammered as he accepted Naomi’s handkerchief. He noticed Will was standing closer than usual. When had that happened? They were only ever this close when Will helped Nico tend to his wounds. But this time it was because....

Nico felt dizzy in the most thrilling way possible. Will was wooing him. Nico was wooing back. He was going to court his best friend and Will wanted it as much as he did.

“Do-do you want to go back in?” Nico asked. “We could join the dances.”

Will loved dancing. Nico loved the way Will smiled when he danced.

To his surprise, Will shook his head. “We can if you’d like. But I thought that we could stay out here a little while longer. Just us.”

“Oh,” Nico whispered. He curled his fingers in Naomi’s handkerchief and held it to his chest. “Yes,” he said. “I’d like that very much.”

[flowerfan2]

Part of You Indefinitely - Ch. 7 of 9

David/Patrick, 22k so far, A03, M

Summary:  An accident sends Patrick to the hospital and terrifies David.  What follows changes their relationship in ways David and Patrick never imagined.  A story of love and its challenges.

***We’re nearing the end, folks - hope you enjoy!

Chapter 7

David is excited at their next session with Margo.  He tells her about how Patrick came to the store, and how good it felt to have him there, and how proud he is of Patrick for getting out of the house.  

But when he turns to Patrick, hoping to have him echo his hopeful thoughts, Patrick is anything but happy.

“Patrick?  What’s wrong?”

“David doesn’t understand,” Patrick grinds out, speaking to Margo.

“Okay, time out, this really isn’t fair – he can’t say that if he doesn’t explain, right?”  David is on board with this counseling thing, he truly is, but not if Patrick just uses it to make vague, unsubstantiated allegations.

“Patrick, can you explain why you think David doesn’t understand?”

David has the feeling that if it wasn’t such a pain for Patrick to get back into his chair, he’d be storming out of the room.  But Margo is good at letting Patrick take his time, and David pushes down his frustration and tries to follow suit.

“It shouldn’t be a big deal,” Patrick finally says, like he’s choking out each word.  “I should be able to go to the store – our store – without freaking out about it.  There’s no reason I can’t go back to work now, I know that’s what David’s thinking – we can both just go back to work now, and everything will be normal, except…”

“Except what?”  Margo prompts.

David waits, his hands gripping his knees.

“Except that’s just it.  Me.  I’m not back to normal.  Nobody knows if I ever will be again, and-” Patrick puts his hands up over his face and sucks in a sob, “and David is going to get tired of waiting for me.”

“Patrick,” David breathes out, his whole body shaking.  “Is that – is that what you have been worried about?  You think I’m going to leave you because you can’t walk?”

Patrick folds in on himself, and David nearly does the same.  The words are stark, but the unknowns of Patrick’s recovery are what’s been haunting him since Patrick woke up in the hospital, and it’s no surprise that it’s at the core of Patrick’s fears, too.

“I’m not going to leave you, Patrick,” David says, putting his hands on Patrick’s shoulders and leaning in close.  “It doesn’t matter if you never get out of that chair, I swear to you, it doesn’t.  You are the love of my life, and that’s not going to change.  I’d carry you around on my back for the rest of my life for the privilege of spending it with you, Patrick Brewer.”

Patrick grabs on to David and buries his face in his neck, sniffling and crying.  “I know it’s stupid, I know it, I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“It’s not stupid.  I’m not going anywhere.  You’re stuck with me.”  Apparently, this is what Patrick needed to hear, and now that David knows, he can’t say it enough.  David rubs his back and kisses his head, repeating “it’s okay, baby, it’s okay.  It doesn’t matter.  I’m not going anywhere, no matter what happens or doesn’t happen.”

“I’m so scared,” Patrick says, face still pressed against David’s skin.  “I hate this.  I hate it so much.”

“Me too,” David says.  “Me too.”

******

They’re in the car again on the way back from a PT session and a check in with Patrick’s doctor – whoever said most serious conversations happen in the car was definitely on to something – when Patrick asks whether David has ever been sick.

“Sick?”

The car is making a funny noise when David brakes, and he’s trying to figure out if it’s the kind of normal noise you only think is unusual because most of the time it’s drowned out by the radio, or the kind of noise that means “stop the car immediately.”

“Yeah, or, like, were you ever in the hospital.”

David’s about to pull over, weird noise or not, because this is kind of an odd question and he really doesn’t know where it’s coming from.  

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

David glances at Patrick, and he seems perfectly fine.  He even gives David a “what?” kind of look, so David shrugs and goes with it.

“I was dehydrated from a fever when I was a baby and had to be in the hospital overnight, I sprained my ankle when I was on a fifth grade trip to Montreal and they made me go to the doctor, I had chicken pox… and, um…” David pauses, wondering whether Patrick expects him to list every single time.  “Is this what you had in mind?”

“Sure,” Patrick says, noncommittally.  “Nothing when you were older?”

David really doesn’t want to talk about when he got his stomach pumped in L.A., eighteen years old and stupidly partying with people twice his age, or when Alexis rushed him to the emergency room in Barcelona, convinced he was dying after someone slipped something into his drink.

“What’s this really about?”

“You just seem, um, really nervous in the hospital.”  When David glances over, Patrick is looking at him intently, his brown eyes full of concern.

“I think I’m a perfectly reasonable amount of nervous in the hospital,” David says, ignoring the flutter in his stomach.

“But you’re not even the one who’s hurt.”

David does pull over then, because his chest clenches and while he’s very sure it isn’t a heart attack, they’ve had enough excitement in their lives lately.  “Patrick,” he says, tugging on his sleeve until Patrick turns to face him, “it doesn’t matter how many times I’ve been hurt.  This is the first time, for me, that  <i>you’ve</i> been hurt.  I don’t think a million emergency room visits to pump out my stomach could have prepared me for how it felt to see you unconscious in that bed.”

Patrick’s eyes go wide.  “Okay, we’ll get to that very sweet sentiment in a minute, but – how many times did you have your stomach pumped?”

Fuck, he really didn’t mean to let that slip.  “Just twice, unless you count – but that’s not the point.”

Patrick’s looking at him intently, and David ducks his head, feeling exposed.  

“I’m sorry,” Patrick says.  “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

“What did you mean, exactly?”  David asks.

“I figured if maybe I knew what was making you so nervous, I could do something to help.”  

Patrick’s voice is soft and gentle, and David realizes how long it’s been since Patrick has been the one trying to console him – not that David was even upset for the reason Patrick suspected, but… it feels nice.  He thinks for a moment about how to respond.  He doesn’t want to just brush this off.

“There is something,” David says.  

“What?”

“I’d like to come into your doctor’s appointments with you,” David says, and goes on quickly, trying to explain.  “So I know what’s happening.  And that way you wouldn’t have to repeat everything to me, which I know is awkward, and if they give you any instructions, I could help you keep track of what you need to do.”  <i>And I wouldn’t have to worry that whatever is going on is actually worse than you’re willing to admit,</i> David thinks.

Patrick smiles wryly and tilts his head back in the seat.  “I thought I was doing you a favor by telling you to wait in the hall, but you were anxious because you wanted to be in the room.”

“Pretty much.  I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want that, I know it’s private and you don’t have much that’s private these days.  But you asked, so.”

Patrick bites his lip, then leans over and kisses David quickly.  “Let me think about it, okay?  But I’ll tell you what Dr. Lee said today, if you want to know.”

“Okay, yeah, that’d be good,” David says.  Then he sighs dramatically and puts the car in gear, looking back and forth at the deserted road before he pulls back on.  “But leave out anything about his infatuation with Alexis.  Some things should truly remain private.”

Patrick laughs softly, and they drive on in relative silence for a few minutes.  Then Patrick starts fidgeting, and David braces himself for whatever’s coming next.

“It’s not that I think you’re shallow or anything,” Patrick starts.

“Okay, that’s not a weird way to start a conversation,” David replies, wondering if he needs to pull over again.  At this rate they’ll never get home.

“No, I’m sorry, I just mean…” Patrick rubs his hands on his thighs.  “What I said the other day… part of me knows you wouldn’t leave me if I don’t get better, that would be a horrible thing to think of you.  I don’t really think that, most of the time.  But it’s not really about you.”

David glances over to Patrick, who is worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.  “Okay.”  

“The thought that I might never get out of this chair, that I wouldn’t be able to do so many things – mow the lawn, hike a trail, pull something down off of a high shelf… go for a run when I’m stressed.  My brain gets stuck on that.  I’m so dependent.  And I can’t walk next to you, can’t reach out and pull you up against me, it’s all so much harder with the chair in the way.  It makes me feel less-”

“You’re not-” David interrupts, and Patrick glares at him.  “Sorry, sorry.  I’m listening.  Go on.”

“Whether or not I am less, I feel that way.  Less capable.  Less useful.  Less confident.  And so I really am different.  And when you figure that out, I don’t know if you’ll like me as much.  And you can tell me over and over that it won’t happen, but it’s still… it’s still in my head.”

David reaches over and takes Patrick’s hand.  He wants to say something to fix this, but Patrick just told him that words don’t help.  He gives Patrick’s hand a squeeze and looks over at him, wondering if Patrick can read in his eyes all the love that he’s feeling.  Patrick holds his glance for a moment, and squeezes back.

*****

It takes a little bit longer for David to put his plan for the store into action than he had hoped, but after way too many emails with Jake, and a lucky find at an estate sale, he’s ready to talk to Patrick about it.

Patrick is laying on the couch against David, playing with the gold rings on his fingers.  They’ve been light-heartedly debating what to do with their Saturday afternoon, David having firmly rejected all sports-watching activities, and Patrick declaring that he’s all rom-com’d out for the time being.  Patrick is relaxed, and cuddly, and David is a little afraid to ruin it all by raising what he knows is a sore subject, but he’s not likely to get a better opportunity.

“Patrick?”

“Yeah?”

“Any chance I could convince you to come into the store with me tomorrow morning?”

David can feel Patrick tense against him.  

“Why?  Did Stevie mix up the lip balms again?”

“No.  I, um, made some provisional adjustments to the layout, to make our space more accessible.”

Patrick has let go of David’s hands.  “Provisional upon what?”

“Upon your approval.”

“David.”  There’s a note of warning in Patrick’s voice, and David can tell he’s about to get yelled at.

“Give me a minute to explain before you get angry, okay?  You’re going to be using the chair for a while more, even best-case scenario.  And my dad and Stevie can’t run the store much longer.  You’re bored out of your mind being home all day, and - I really think this could work.”

Patrick shoves himself up and off of David, awkwardly propelling himself to the other end of the couch.  “I am pretty bored,” he says, a little bitterly.  “But it’s a waste of money to make changes to the store for me.”

“It’s absolutely not.  And anyway, the store is doing very well this month, as you know.  I think people are coming in to gossip with my dad and then they get guilted into buying things?”  Actually David thinks they’re coming in out of morbid curiosity, to see if Johnny has screwed around with David’s vision, but that’s almost what he said.  “We’ve got the cash.  And I found a nice piece to use as the counter-top.  It’ll be a two-level table which can work for either sitting or standing.  Jake put together a mock-up, he won’t charge us until we give him the go-ahead.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Patrick,” David scoots closer to him, nudging at his leg with one hand.  “Is it really the cost that’s bothering you?”

The tips of Patrick’s ears color with embarrassment.  “You know it isn’t just that.”

Patrick doesn’t like people seeing him in the wheelchair.  They both know it, and David isn’t going to force him to say it.

“You could just come help after hours,” David says calmly.

“But that’s pretty stupid, isn’t it?”  Patrick says, looking down at his legs.  “I shouldn’t be embarrassed.  I need to get over it.”

David leans closer, wrapping his arms around Patrick’s shoulders and tucking his head in next to his.  “You don’t <i>need</i> to get over it.  But if you started going out more, it might get less awful.  And then you might feel less trapped.”

Patrick turns towards him.  “Trapped?”

“If I suddenly had to rely on someone else anytime I wanted to leave the house, even if it was you, I’d feel trapped.”

“I still can’t drive.”

“There are adjustments we could make to the car, we talked about-”

“Absolutely not,” Patrick says, his voice rising.  He takes a deep breath and when he speaks again, he’s working on staying calm.  “We talked about that, it’s expensive and drastic and – and I really don’t mind you driving me around.  I don’t feel trapped, exactly.  But I guess I am a little… lonely.”  Patrick’s gaze flits to David’s and then away.

“You don’t have to look so guilty when you say that,” David says, pushing down the twinge he feels at Patrick’s words.  “When you decided to spend the rest of your life with me, you didn’t mean <i>only</i> with me.”  David takes Patrick’s hand and squeezes it.

“Still feels kind of mean to say it.”

“Look, I get out of the house all the time – I visit vendors, I stop by the store and critique my dad and Stevie, I chat with Twyla and half the town while I’m waiting for our take-out at the café.  If I was stuck in here all day long with you every day for weeks on end I’d be going a little stir-crazy too.”

There’s a beat, and then Patrick says, “Nice thing to say to your injured husband.”  David welcomes his teasing tone with an internal cheer.

“You can be kind of a lot,” David says, straight faced.

Patrick barks out a laugh, and David swoops in and smacks kisses against Patrick’s smile.  

*****

They’re in bed one night, watching some random Marvel movie on Patrick’s laptop, when David feels the mood change.

Patrick is lying with his head on David’s chest, one arm draped over his waist.  And he’s moving closer, shifting against him, so tentatively David almost doesn’t notice.

David glances down at him, and Patrick looks up, his eyes flitting to David’s mouth.  

“Getting tired of the movie?”  David asks.

Patrick feigns nonchalance, and David feels a thrill of excitement shoot through him.  They’ve played this game before.

“If you are,” Patrick says.  “I mean, I’ve seen it before.”

“Mmm, and I never need to see it.”  David closes the laptop and puts it on the bedside table.  When he looks back at Patrick, his big brown eyes are wide.  “Patrick?”

“Yeah?”  Patrick says.

“You wanna fool around?”

Patrick’s face goes on a journey that David wishes he could preserve forever, from nerves to determination to aroused excitement.  “Oh god, I really do.”  He surges forward and kisses David, one hand cupping his cheek, his whole body pressing close.

David lets out a moan that would be embarrassing if he so very much <i>did not care</i> right now, reveling in the feel of his husband’s body warm and longing against his own.  They kiss with abandon for a few minutes, all tongue and no finesse, Patrick’s hand in David’s hair and David holding on to Patrick’s shoulder.

“Can I take this off?”  Patrick breathes out, tugging at David’s t-shirt, and soon both their shirts are off.  They move back together, skin touching and sending sparks though David’s body.  David is sensitized all over, shivering as Patrick scratches at the hair on his chest and thumbs at his nipples.  David skims his teeth along Patrick’s jaw and sucks at a spot behind his ear, making Patrick whine and thrust his pajama-clad hips against David’s.

It’s so good, David can hardly breathe.  He runs his hand down Patrick’s back to his ass, giving it a squeeze and encouraging Patrick to continue his thrusts.

Patrick’s panting into his ear, his hand clutching at David’s side, but then his breath catches and he stops.  Just stops.

David freezes, breathing hard, and rests his forehead against Patrick’s while he wills himself to remember how to think.  He knew this could happen, he’s played this scenario over in his head a dozen times.  David even thinks he knows what to do.  He just needs to listen to Patrick and make sure he knows he’s safe.

“Hey,” David says softly, sliding his wayward hands back up above Patrick’s waist.  “It’s okay.”  He shifts, easing their hips just the tiniest bit apart, and rubs Patrick’s back.  “Whatever it is, you can tell me.  It’s okay.”  

For a long moment the only noise in the room is their labored breathing.  Then Patrick presses his face into the space between David’s neck and shoulder.  “I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s okay.  Don’t apologize.  We can pause for a while, or we can stop-”

“No, I – I really don’t want to stop.”

David pulls back so he can see Patrick’s face.  “Okay.  We’ll just pause, then, for a bit.”

Patrick stares at David, and then flops over onto his back, his hand over his face.  “I haven’t been this nervous about sex since our first time.”

David hums, raising up on an elbow.  “I couldn’t tell you were nervous then.”

Patrick moves his hand and looks at David.  “You’re kidding, right?”

David laughs.  “Maybe a little.  But you were so sexy…” He bites his lip and shimmies closer to Patrick, drawing circles on his shoulder with a fingertip.  “You took my breath away.”

“I was petrified.  I had literally never touched another guy’s dick before.”

“I know.  But believe me, that is not what I was thinking about at the time.”

“Oh?  What were you thinking about?”  Patrick asks.

David pauses long enough that Patrick has to prompt him.

“I didn’t mean for that to be a hard question.”

David snorts.  “No, sorry, it isn’t, it shouldn’t be.  I was just remembering…  I mean on one hand, I spent a lot of time before that night thinking about what I needed to do to not fuck things up with you, to try to tone it down, not make you change your mind about me.  But in the moment…” David forces himself to look at Patrick, who is gazing back with earnest concern, “in the moment, all I could think of was how beautiful you are.”

Patrick blushes, and then he leans in and kisses David, warm and perfect.  “I love you, David Rose.”

“I love you too.”

Patrick kisses him again, and again, and David leans over him, one hand holding himself up and the other holding Patrick’s face, his thumb stroking his cheekbone.  He keeps his hips angled away, aware in the back of his mind that Patrick still really hasn’t given them the green light to continue.

Patrick takes the initiative after a few minutes, however, sliding a hand down to David’s hip, and giving it a squeeze.  “I, um, I want to keep going,” he says, but he doesn’t move any further.

“Is there something in particular you’re nervous about?”  David asks.  “Maybe I can help.”

Patrick gives a jittery laugh.  “I want to touch you, I want to touch you so bad, but I’m afraid my grip’s gonna be too loose, or I could have a muscle spasm and it’ll be too tight.”

“Honestly, my dick is pretty excited about either of those options right now.”

Patrick snorts against David’s shoulder, and David leans down to whisper in his ear.  “I want your hands on me, Patrick, any way you want.  I want you to touch me.  Whatever feels good to you, I promise it’s going to feel good to me.  You’re not going to do anything wrong.  And if you change your mind, we’ll stop.  Anytime.  Okay?”

“Yeah,” Patrick says, “okay, yeah.”  Patrick pulls David’s head down with a hand to the back of his head, and they kiss, this time letting it heat up fast with all the intensity of their pent-up arousal.  Patrick tugs at David’s sleep pants and David hurries out of them, still kissing Patrick.

“Want yours off too?”  David asks, and when Patrick nods, he carefully eases Patrick’s pants off and tosses them on the floor.  David can’t help admiring Patrick, naked and flushed, his cock hard and leaking.  He’s seen Patrick naked plenty of times, but he still takes his breath away.

“Look at you,” David says, catching Patrick’s gaze.  “You’re gorgeous.”

“Come here.”  Patrick reels David in, and David goes easily, until their bodies are pressed together from chest to groin, feet moving restlessly as they kiss.

This time Patrick lets himself go, gripping David’s ass and pressing a thigh between his legs, humming his appreciation when David’s hands weave between them and find his cock.  

“What do you want, baby?”  David asks, kissing along Patrick’s jaw and down his chest.  “What do you want?”

Patrick captures his mouth with his own, pressing his chest to David’s and shifting his hips until their bare cocks are pressed together.  “Like this?”  His voice is tight and David can tell that he’s already getting close, wound up from so many weeks without.

“Good, yeah, okay,” David scrabbles with one hand in the bedside table drawer, miraculously finding the lube without having to untangle himself from Patrick, who is thrusting against him deliciously.  “Here, let me-” He squirts lube in the general direction of their cocks, messy and wet, and feels Patrick’s hand wrapping around them both.  

David works with him, his hand over Patrick’s, both of them urgently twisting and stroking.  They’re panting into each other’s mouths, and it isn’t long before David is losing control completely.  “Oh god, Patrick, oh, please, yeah, oh, oh-”

Suddenly Patrick jerks and shudders, and he comes with a low moan.  David follows him over the edge, his body exploding in a burst of light.

“Love you so much, David,” Patrick breathes out, stroking David’s flank as he comes down.  “Thank you, fuck, god, thank you.”

“I’d say no thanks are necessary, but I was pretty amazing,” David says lightly, pulling Patrick against him and kissing his cheek.  They can pretend it’s normal, that it’s just another night of mutually satisfying sex in a long wonderful string of nights together, but they know it’s more than that.  It’s Patrick learning to trust himself again, and it makes David’s heart soar.

[rivalsforlife]

AAA thank you for the commentary and also for the links for the art + the piece with kay giving miles a hug, i hadn't seem them!! miles really really needed that hug :C since you said you like doing commentary, i'm so sorry, but can i ask for phoenix and miles talking in the hospital in chapter 7? reading the commentary about The Scene made me rush to read it again right after haha take your time though, i get these are long to do and all!! thank you again!

Anonymous said:

Wait hold on I would purchase this DVD Director’s Cut Commentary on your fics in heartbeat! I only just realized that you were doing them. Sorry to be another catch up game request and sorry that it’s a somewhat long passage, but could you comment on the scene where Phoenix and Miles reconcile in Miles’ hospital room in chapter 8?

Got two asks for this one so I guess I have to do it haha! (And I’m assuming the first anon meant chapter 8 instead of chapter 7 haha.)

and also @\ second anon request I am so glad to hear that there’s a market for my 150 hour long DVD that’s me reading my fics and then rambling about them repetitively the whole time, maybe I can drop out of school after all! (jokesjokes)

Anyways!! the scene!! under the cut!!

I totally lied I have a few things to talk about first... this is probably one of the scenes I fiddled around the most with at the last minutes before publishing, because like I said in my commentary of The Scene at the end of chapter 5, it got a much bigger reaction than I was anticipating and then I was side-eyeing the rest of this fic to make sure it worked out haha. Particularly this scene, since it’s sort of the resolution to the end of chapter 5, so I wanted it to work out alright without it seeming like it just... wrote off everything that happened with chapter 5.

Okay I’ll start now I promise.

Phoenix’s heart pounded in his chest to a degree he thought might have something to do with a health condition. Maybe it was in the pamphlets. Kay reached around him, knocked on the door, and gave him a wink before darting away. How disrespectful.

meddlesome thief daughter is determined to help get her totally-not-a-dad a boyfriend. Also Phoenix is way more intimidated by the thought of an Honest Emotional Conversation than he is at running into a burning building which I think is in character, honestly.

“Come in,” said Edgeworth’s muffled voice, so Phoenix gave himself one moment to take a deep breath and then entered the room.

Edgeworth sat in the bed by the window, looking at his burnt and bent out-of-shape Steel Samurai figurine perched on the windowsill. At least it had been recovered; Edgeworth was fond of that one. Edgeworth himself was definitely worse for wear, with his hands bandaged and gripping tightly to his inner arms, and his skin a sickly pale colour where it wasn’t bruised, but he was awake and alive and the sight was nearly breathtaking.

hhghgh okay confession time! Up until I was about halfway through the fic the big moments in chapter 7 went down a little differently - originally this was going to involve, like, Miles getting kidnapped by the mafia group he was taking down and then Phoenix would go in and break him out of there, but then I ended up taking it out because I wasn’t really Vibing with it and it just seemed too dramatic and implausible... but honestly what I went with was probably equally dramatic and implausible, so no points there for me.

I mean I kinda regret burning down the prosecutor’s office. If I had more time to prepare/edit or I guess if I could do one thing in this fic differently, I’d probably rewrite part of this resolution so it was more emotionally oriented because I suck at action. plus like the health-related consequences of this whole misadventure kind of got glossed over, in true ace attorney fashion, but regardless. 

This was absolutely caused by me not being totally sure what hurt/comfort meant (which chapters 7 and 8 were based on as a theme) and figuring to go with the safer option of more physical hurt/comfort than more emotional hurt/comfort; although some of that got in there at the end.

And one of my edits was definitely recovering the Steel Samurai figurine because that was the most critical thing in Miles’ office imo. Or at least from Miles’ perspective.

Edgeworth looked over as Phoenix entered, and his entire body sagged in relief. “Phoenix,” he breathed.

“Hey.” Awkwardly sticking his hands in his pockets, Phoenix walked over and sat on the chair beside his bed. He couldn’t help but think about the last time he and Edgeworth had been in a hospital room together, their positions reversed. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” said Edgeworth, and his voice was still rough. “I—I don’t… you’re alive.”

“‘Course I am.”

“Gumshoe and Kay told me everything, you know.” A menacing look flashed through his eyes. “What you did.”

Phoenix braced himself.

Gumshoe and Kay probably were there right when Miles woke up, a little before Phoenix did, I suppose -- or at least around when he was being rescued, maybe? I didn’t think this timeline through super well since Miles was in worse condition... ignore that! Anyways they definitely told Miles that Phoenix was alive, but considering Miles presumably witnessed him fall through a burning building, he can’t fully believe it until he sees Phoenix upright and walking around like nothing’s wrong.

“How could you be so reckless?” he hissed, and even though some of the danger was lessened when his voice was so shaky, Phoenix still recoiled. “You could have died, easily! You defied direct police orders and — and all — all logic and reason and for what?”

“To save you. Of course.”

“I would have been fine!”

Risking his life for someone is just your average Tuesday for Phoenix. But it shook up Miles a lot, and all of his anger is completely coming from a place of concern, but Miles being Miles doesn’t really know how to express emotions outside of angry glaring and in this case angry yelling.

“Would you?” Phoenix challenged, and Edgeworth’s glare redoubled. “Look, Edgeworth, I wasn’t going to die, not while I still had something to live for —”

“How is that going to stop you?” Edgeworth demanded. “People can have the world to live for and they still die! By your logic, I-I wasn’t enough for m-my —” He turned away and broke off into a coughing fit.

The realization struck Phoenix like a physical blow. “No, I didn’t mean to suggest —”

The “I wasn’t going to die, not while I had something to live for” is a reference to Phoenix’s line at the end of AA4; “People don't die that easily, really. ... As long as they've got something worth living for.” Which is a nice sentiment, really, and might work for Mr. Indestructible over here, but is not how things actually work, which Miles points out.

What he was going to say (if it’s not obvious) is “By your logic, I wasn’t enough for my father,” because you know Gregory would have done anything to stay with his son, but a bullet to the heart is a bullet to the heart. There’s not much “having something to live for” can do about that.

“Something to live for isn’t going to save you!” continued Edgeworth, once he recovered. “Why can’t you realize that? It’s not going to stop a bullet, it’s not going to save you from a fall, you — how much longer are you going to keep relying on your luck like this?! Do you — do you even realize how much danger you keep putting yourself in?”

His choice of examples here are what I want to talk about - “not going to stop a bullet” refers to both Gregory’s murder and also the last time he saw Phoenix’s life in danger, during SOJ when the guards burst in and are pretty much pointing guns at their heads -- I’d be surprised if Miles wasn’t terrified watching that, even if he wouldn’t admit it after everything calmed down. “not going to save you from a fall” refers both to this most recent falling through a burning building but ALSO Phoenix falling through the burning bridge in Bridge to the Turnabout, another instance where Phoenix almost died and Miles was involved.

And the events of SOJ where Phoenix walks in and risks his life for a kid, while something that Miles understands he would do since that’s the kind of guy Phoenix is, still were reckless and if Phoenix didn’t have protagonist immunity who knows if he would have made it through Khura’in, which is the most recent traumatic event prior to this fic.

Phoenix held up his hands. “Edgeworth, it’s okay.”

“No! No it’s not! Y-You… Do you have a death wish? Why would you ever…” He trailed off, digging his fingers into his arms and looking away.

Miles is just kind of... panicking a lot as the full weight of the situation they were just in catches up with him and just how close he was to losing Phoenix. He was going to say something like “Why would you ever do that for me?” but that’s edging a little too close to the whole issue of the rejected confession; he’s not someone particularly special to Phoenix, at least not in the way Miles would like, and they parted on awkward terms, so why would Phoenix still go out of his way to save him like this?

“It’s fine,” Phoenix tried to soothe. “We’re alive. If I hadn’t gone in there, who knows if they would have gotten to you in time, or if you hadn’t gotten that mask on when you did… Look, I don’t want to just sit back and watch you die —”

“I don’t want you dead, either! You imbecile! You…” He took in a sharp, shaky inhale. “You could have died, and it would have been my fault, do you think I want that? Do you think I could live with myself if that had happened? And not just now, you keep throwing yourself into reckless situation after reckless situation and one day you’ll pay the price for it a-and god, Wright, no one would ever want that, do you even consider the effect that would have o-on Trucy, on everyone, on…”

He turned his head to the side to hide it better behind his bandaged hand, but Phoenix could still see the tears dripping down his face. Phoenix hadn’t seen him cry since — since they were kids, probably. His eyes had been a little watery after the DL-6 incident was resolved, but Phoenix hadn’t actually seen anything. Even when he came to the Agency after prosecuting cases where the public details alone made Phoenix’s stomach turn, and he’d whisper about the horrors with his face in his hands long after they were sure Trucy was asleep, he hadn’t cried.

“Miles,” Phoenix whispered, horrified, reaching out for his shaking shoulder.

Edgeworth flinched away, curling in on himself. “Please don’t touch me.”

Miles... pretty much has a full-on breakdown here because he’s been through a LOT in the past few days. He finally worked up the courage to confess to Phoenix and was rejected, and then probably spent a lot of time worrying about how this could change their friendship, and if Phoenix would be less comfortable around him from now on; plus in general the hurt of being rejected plus the humiliation of having read the situation so wrong (so he thinks). Then the office was attacked which was horribly traumatic on his own, and dredged up some DL-6 trauma for him too with the building shaking like it did. Then Phoenix comes running in to rescue him, which Miles doesn’t understand, because they had parted on awkward terms and he doesn’t think Phoenix would want to go rescuing him after that; at the same time this is the sort of thing Phoenix would do because he’s so dedicated to the people he cares about and Miles loves that about him; and then he thought for a while there that Phoenix had fallen and died trying to save Miles, making it indirectly Miles’ fault that he died, and now he’s lost the man he loves and he’s lost Trucy’s father and someone who was such a loyal friend to so many people -- but he’s okay! and acting like nothing happened! plus it’s the first time Miles has seen him since his attempted  confession and it’s still a little raw for him.

so he’s a complete wreck emotionally... which is why he’s crying. I don’t see Miles as the type of person to cry a lot and ESPECIALLY not in front of other people. That’s probably very embarrassing for him, too, not to mention he’s crying in front of Phoenix, who’s trying to comfort him, which just makes everything worse.

Also Phoenix calling Miles by his first name and kind of reaching out to hold him reaaaally does not help.

“Alright.” Phoenix reluctantly lowered his arm. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” Phoenix corrected, and Edgeworth peeked out from between his arms with reddened eyes to glare at him. “I know that sounds like a half-assed apology. But I’m not going to apologize for saving your life. I’m never going to stand by and let you or anyone else die if I can stop it.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah. Probably.”

Another instance of Miles not knowing how to process feelings and being kind of angry-cat-like about it.

“Your life has more value than you know,” Edgeworth mumbled. “I wish you’d stop treating it so cheaply.”

“I’m not more important than anyone else.”

“You are to me.” Edgeworth sighed. “Forget I said anything. I know it isn’t going to stop you from doing the exact same idiotic thing in the future.”

HERE is a subtle callback to, once again, their conversation during the dinner in chapter 4 (which I’m referencing a lot back then since I guess it’s the scene where everyone’s repressing their emotions):

Phoenix immediately shook his head. “Hey, no, you were off doing research, planning to change the judicial system. I’m not more important than that.”

“You…” Edgeworth looked away and grabbed his arm. “... That doesn’t change the fact that I could have done more.”

He was going to say “You are to me”, like he did in this scene, but changed it at the last moment because it was too sappy and a little too close to his true feelings. 

Miles now, going through an emotional breakdown, has less control over what he’s saying so it just sort of slips out -- but he regrets saying it since, well, Phoenix doesn’t feel the same way about him, he wouldn’t want to hear that, it’s not going to change anything.

“I don’t think it’s idiotic for me to try and save someone I care about from death,” Phoenix argued, punctuating his sentence with a cough.

“You shouldn’t do that for me.”

“Of course I would risk my life for you. You’re… you…” The words got stuck somewhere before his tongue.

Edgeworth’s eyes squeezed shut as if in pain, and he turned his back to Phoenix. “Please just… give me space, Wright.”

What Phoenix is trying to do is express how important Miles is to him in a romantic sort of way, but he still hasn’t fully acknowledged everything yet to do so, there’s a whole psyche-lock left, so he can’t quite get it out.

Miles perceives this as Phoenix trying to comfort him and say that he is important -- and he does know that he is important in some way to Phoenix -- but trying to do it in a way that can’t be mistaken as romantically-intended, once again reminding Miles of “hey remember when you tried to confess to him and it backfired so horribly”, so he wants space. Both for now because he’s dealing with a lot of other trauma, but also to take some time and get over Phoenix so he isn’t reminded of this and they can go back to being friends like before.

“No,” said Phoenix, and when Edgeworth tensed, “I-I mean, yes, I’ll go in a minute. I just… I wanted to talk to you about, uh, before all this. I-I know it’s terrible timing.”

Edgeworth was silent. Phoenix feared he was being ignored. “It is indeed terrible timing,” he said, eventually, his voice nearly unrecognizable. “I thought I said I didn’t want to talk about this again.”

Miles is anticipating the “You’re a great guy and a great friend, I just don’t feel the same way, but I’m sure you’ll make someone happy someday” conversation, which, while not a bad thing in most situations, is really not what Miles wants to deal with right now! Avoiding it was partially the reason he left so quickly at the end of chapter 5, and now he’s cornered in his hospital bed and does not want to have this conversation... ever, really, but especially not right now.

Basically Phoenix’s timing sucks, don’t have an emotionally charged conversation about why you rejected your crush after a traumatic incident irl, this is fiction though and I’m doing it for the drama.

“You don’t have to say anything. You don’t ever have to talk about this with me again if you don’t want to.” Phoenix ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I just want to apologize, a-and if I don’t do it now, I’m not sure I’ll have the courage to do it again.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Wright,” said Edgeworth, to the wall.

one of the first drafts of Phoenix’s part had “You don’t ever have to talk to me again if you don’t want to” which was imo too far; Miles wouldn’t completely abandon Phoenix over this, and also, if Miles wanted to cut off all contact with Phoenix he’d probably just do it. Phoenix is just promising he won’t bring up the conversation again.

Miles thinks he’s about to apologize for not returning Miles’ feelings, which of course isn’t something Phoenix would have to apologize for.

“Yeah, I do.” Phoenix took a deep breath and summoned more courage than he ever had before. “I… I lied to you. When you asked me how I felt.”

Edgeworth turned his head back to him. Phoenix willed himself to not look away, or crack some cheap joke. Just kidding, Edgeworth! I enjoy toying with your emotions! That wouldn’t go over well.

Miles would be well within his rights to cut off all contact with Phoenix if Phoenix DID say “Oh by the way I do love you! haha just kidding! why are you crying.”

And these two being so dedicated to The Truth is why Phoenix focuses the apology more around “I’m sorry that I lied to you” -- also why he was so bothered by the comment Miles made about his honesty throughout chapter 6 and 7.

Edgeworth’s face crossed at least three equally incomprehensible emotions before he asked, “Why?”

The incomprehensible emotions are probably some variation on “am I dead???”

“I…” Phoenix sighed, and admitted, “I don’t know.”

“It would make more sense if it were the other way around,” said Edgeworth, and his expression closed off. “I’m — I’m not misunderstanding, am I?”

Instead of asking if he was misunderstanding, the first draft of this had Miles ask if Phoenix was trying to spare his feelings... but I think Miles would know Phoenix well enough to know that Phoenix would never do that.

Phoenix still hasn’t worked through his Issues and hasn’t outright said that he does love Miles, just that he lied about how he felt - sneaky way to get past the psyche-locks. 

“No, you’re not,” Phoenix insisted, leaning forward. “I didn’t mean what I said back the other day, when I said I didn’t feel the same. I-I just panicked, I think. I knew, already, how you felt, but I never thought you’d say it. I never knew exactly how to read you, then suddenly you’re baring your heart to me, and it was too much.” He realized how close he was to Miles, and started getting out of his chair. “I-It’s a stupid reason. I’m sorry. I-I’ll just go, you don’t have to deal with me right now —”

“Wait.” Edgeworth grabbed his wrist before he could go too far. “Please.”

His grip was gentle but still firm. Phoenix sat back down with superhuman effort.

Phoenix finally realizes that dumping heavy emotions on Miles right now might not be the best idea! But Miles starts processing what’s actually going on and demands answers Right Now. And he initiates physical contact again. I usually try to have it go about when writing these things that if someone refuses physical contact (like Miles does before) they’re the one to initiate it again, just so that no boundaries are broken here.

Edgeworth was silent for a long time. “Always turning things around on me, aren’t you,” he said eventually, in a hoarse whisper.

This line was a fairly last-minute addition! Just imagine it being said in kind of a... exasperated-fond tone of a man who is very much in love but also very tired. “I understand you always want to turn things around on me but did you really have to do it this way, Phoenix,”

Phoenix ducked his head. “I never meant to hurt you. I — I care about you a lot, Miles, and I’m sorry if I screwed things up because I got scared. I want the same thing you do, I just don’t know if I can anymore, it’s been so long and…” He let out some self-deprecating laughter. “Isn’t that stupid? I’m such a coward. I know you, I know you wouldn’t hurt me, not on purpose. But I just can’t…”

So Phoenix hasn’t been in a serious relationship since the Dahlia-Iris debacle in college, which by this point, is fifteen years. And that was traumatizing enough he’s not sure he knows how to navigate a romantic relationship anymore or be vulnerable in that sort of way again.

That “not on purpose” caveat is there because Miles has hurt Phoenix pretty badly before -- not intending to, of course, because I don’t think he thought anyone would really care after the “Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death” note, but he still did anyways.

And since I usually like to plan out what characters are saying when I have them trail off like that... Phoenix’s intention was to say something along the lines of how he can’t get over what happened or whatever this emotional block is that won’t let him express his romantic feelings freely, but can’t find the words for it.

“Don’t you dare put yourself down in front of me.” Edgeworth reached out, slowly, to guide Phoenix’s head upward to meet his eyes. “I… I always thought you were the more… emotional, of the two of us. I’d assumed you weren’t saying anything, before, to give me time to process how I felt. I thought you were just waiting for me to speak up.”

Miles kind of degrades Phoenix often in court but, at least after Turnabout Goodbyes, I was always under the impression it’s just courtroom banter/not letting Phoenix think he’d go easy on him. Judging by the big emotional speeches about Phoenix’s brilliance he tends to give afterwards, there’s no way he actually thinks Phoenix is stupid.

And the rest of that is pretty much giving the reader who has not read these extensive DVD commentaries more insight into Miles’ perspective throughout the fic!

“Guess we got it the other way around,” said Phoenix with a faint laugh. “I-I mean, I used to be that kind of person. Everyone always knew how I felt all the time. It didn’t really… well, you can’t survive long like that.” He placed his free hand over his heart. “I-I’ve got locks, you know that? Black ones. I don’t know for sure why, but I can guess.”

Edgeworth scowled. “Dahlia?”

“Not just her,” said Phoenix. “She — and Iris — they’re not the only ones, you know, who — who I thought betrayed me.”

Edgeworth released Phoenix’s wrist. “Me,” he realized. “You thought I’d betray your trust again.”

Pretty much summary of Phoenix talking about how he used to be the “Feenie” in Turnabout Memories and then the events of the games slamdunked him into the emotional repression zone. ... to put it simply.

And Miles’ hurt at Phoenix pointing out that Miles had betrayed him in the past (referring to the Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death thing, primarily, because Phoenix describes it as a betrayal himself in the games) is less hurt that Phoenix doesn’t trust him and more guilt/anger at himself for having hurt Phoenix in the past to the point it could be comparable with what Dahlia and Iris did.

(Phoenix interprets it as the former, though, in the next paragraph.)

“I know you wouldn’t,” Phoenix clarified, because the brief flicker of hurt across Edgeworth’s face was unbearable. “I trust you to be a good person, and I trust you as my friend, but I… Miles, you left before, and it hurt. A-And let’s be honest, you’ve always been the smarter of the two of us, you’re better looking, you — you’re always fighting for justice, now, for truth, you’re honestly incredible. Why wouldn’t you want to leave me?”

“I trust you to be a good person, and I trust you as my friend, but I don’t trust you not to leave again” is the full version of that sentence, but Phoenix stopped himself because it seemed too cruel to say out loud.

And Phoenix using the word “incredible” here is also a very tiny subtle callback to Miles calling Phoenix incredible back during the original confession in chapter 5!

... I realized looking back on it that in my editing of that confession I accidentally cut out the part where Miles calls Phoenix intelligent during that conversation, shit, and then Phoenix claims that Miles called him intelligent when arguing back, which doesn’t make any sense anymore. Originally when Miles says “surely you figured it out already?” it was a little later and he said something like “surely you figured it out already, with your brilliant mind” but that was overkill so I cut it out but forgot to cut out the intelligence comment! fun how you realize these things so long after publishing! anyways. once more, please ignore that.

THE POINT IS that the things they find attractive about each other tend to be similar because they have very similar values and goals; their fight for truth and justice being a core one.

“I don’t know where you’ve gotten these impressions of me, but you’re wrong,” said Edgeworth, his gaze locking onto Phoenix like he was chasing down a contradiction. “You can be very stupid, when you’re risking your life running into a collapsing building, for instance — but you’re one of the smartest men I know, smarter in ways I’ll never be. I wouldn’t be anywhere on my path to truth if you weren’t there to guide me. And…” A faint sheen of pink covered his face. “I find you extremely handsome. I’m not sure if you know this.”

Phoenix was sure he was turning red. “I don’t know why you would.”

“Any thought suggesting that you’re not good enough for me is wrong,” Edgeworth asserted. “I think it’s the other way around. You’re — you’re brave, you’re good, you’re always so strong despite everything… I admire that about you.”

look I love morosexual miles jokes as much as anyone else, but Phoenix is actually wickedly smart, albeit in an unconventional sort of way -- he’s a very flexible thinker and that can lead him to reach conclusions that Miles didn’t even consider. I found that interesting with investigations that sometimes Miles got so caught up in his logic and assumptions that he’d get stuck, and it was only emulating Phoenix’s thinking that got him out of it.

(Which is why I usually get a little irritated at some characterizations of Phoenix where he’s just completely oblivious in contrast to extremely intelligent Miles... anyways.)

And if my twitter feed is any indication, lots of people find Phoenix Wright attractive... so Miles isn’t alone there.

“But that’s just it, I’m not,” Phoenix argued. “I-I can’t be that. I’m always pretending to be strong, always smiling, for you, for Maya and Pearls, for Trucy… I think I forgot to be anything else. I didn’t want you to need me and then realize I wasn’t up to the task, and leave. Because…” He let out a bit of faint laughter, but there was no joy in it. “That’s always what happens. People need me, then they don’t, and they leave for better things. I wouldn’t ever want to stop them, but the more attached I get, the more it hurts when they leave me behind.”

oof this paragraph was a chore and a half to write because I had to kind of cut to the core of Phoenix’s characterization bits that cause the conflict of this fic, mainly the abandonment areas -- which was why I needed pretty much everyone Phoenix cares about to not be around as much as he’d like, which feels like he’s being left behind, as everyone fulfills their destiny and is happy and he’s just... the same.

which is like a total mood for me approaching the end of my years in university and having no idea what I’m doing with my life while most of my friends are gonna do great things -- but I also think it’s a fairly universal human experience. no one really knows what they’re doing.

But especially for Phoenix because his career was defined by saving a specific person -- in this case Miles, who’s past needing saving and is going on to save other people. Then there was taking care of Maya and Pearls, but Maya is a proper adult now and Pearl is also an adult and they’re living their own independent lives in Kurain Village without needing him. Then Trucy kept him together throughout disbarment but even she’s grown up and leaving to live her own life now. And like I said in the other asks Phoenix tends to fall apart without someone to take care of, and now suddenly he has no one to look after and is questioning his purpose if he’s not taking care of or trying to save someone.

And since so much of his personality is defined by that he kind of gets tired and gets in the mindset of “if they’re just going to leave anyway, why even bother getting attached?” which could have gotten really unhealthy if he’d allowed it to fester for much longer; luckily it got caught and dealt with fairly early with the help of off-screen therapy after this.

Edgeworth was silent for a moment, as if weighing his words. “You don’t have to be strong for me anymore,” he said. “I needed you when I was younger, but… I don’t need you now. That’s not why I’m still here.” 

Phoenix’s breath caught somewhere deep in his chest.

“I just… want you, Phoenix Wright, because I’ve known you for so long, and I’ve loved every part of you I’ve seen.” The lines around his eyes and mouth softened. “I won’t run from the rest. And I don’t want to leave your side, not for long, not for good, whether that’s as a friend or as something else. I am willing to try if you are.”

I really like these lines!! ... though I think I fiddled with the last paragraph a little too much and now it’s a bit too long and it throws off the rhythm a bit but oh well. is rhythm even the right word to use here? idk. 

But basically it’s about their relationship being much healthier now that Miles isn’t dependent on Phoenix for the sake of his own mental health -- he likes the person Phoenix is, even outside of all that Phoenix did for him, and even if Phoenix hadn’t done anything for him, he’d still love Phoenix. (... He’d probably be dead, too, and everything Phoenix did definitely helped his feelings develop, but regardless.)

And it’s also kind of what Phoenix needs to hear right now, because hey, Phoenix, people don’t stick around because you help them out; they stick around because they like you! And this applies to pretty much everyone Phoenix cares about (which Trucy says in her letter) but Miles is speaking on his feelings specifically since this is the Romance moment.

And the last line kind of enforces a “even if this relationship doesn’t work out, I still don’t want to leave your side, even if we’re only friends,” plus Miles comes down a bit from his dramatic all-or-nothing “I WANT TO SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH YOU” speech and to a more reasonable “I’m willing to put effort and time into making this relationship romantic if you are as well”.

so maybe the rejection did him some good after all.

“Miles,” Phoenix whispered.

“If you want me…” He took a deep breath and rested one hand, palm up, beside Phoenix. “If you want me, I am here. And even if you don’t, I’m not going anywhere. It’s as I said before. I’m done running away.”

We don’t get into Miles’ head so I don’t get to explore his thoughts as much as I do Phoenix’s (which is why so much of these DVD commentaries are just What Is Going On With Miles Edgeworth since (I hope!) I conveyed Phoenix’s thoughts sufficiently in the actual fic. But this conversation is probably taking a lot out of him emotionally, too. He has no idea what he’s doing. I tried to convey that a bit with his actions with him thinking things over carefully and taking deep breaths to kind of brace himself into making a move.

And his words are once again affirming the “even if you don’t want to be romantically involved with me, I’ll still be by your side as a friend”, because their relationship is so important to both of them, they wouldn’t want anything coming in between that.

Phoenix extended his hand, brushing his fingertips against Miles’ palm. The sensation was the only thing that made him sure this wasn’t a dream.

“I’ve been chasing after you my whole life,” said Phoenix, scarcely able to breathe. “I don’t know what to do if I’ve caught up.”

shameless title reference. I struggled so much with this title I was lying in bed the last day of June like “screw it, the catch-up game??? Sounds catchy enough???” and threw it on there. This is my approach to most of my titles. Either I have a title in my head from the outset (Deep Dark Secrets, Fifty Flights of Stairs) or I make it up at the last possible minute.

“Well, you have.” Miles’ hand shifted, but it was only to thread their fingers together, tight and reassuring. “I don’t know either. We’ll figure it out together, as we do with everything else.”

Phoenix lifted his head to meet those familiar grey eyes, mirroring the fear and anticipation and the giddy, almost child-like excitement in his own, and he smiled. “Yeah. I think I can try that.”

neither of them know what they’re doing but together they can accomplish anything!! is the vibe I wanted to go with. Honestly the way that they can work together to do anything they put their minds to and create miracles in court is one of the things I love so much about this ship. They complement each other so well and have so much faith and trust in each other that they make the perfect duo. Like two halves of the same whole. about the closest thing you can get to actual soulmates.

Anyways that’s the scene! Hope both you anons enjoyed it haha. This is one of the big emotional conflict resolution scenes (the other being Trucy’s letter later) so it’s got lots of stuff to talk about, so thank you!!

[fckinwild-kiwi]

Time to Realize (pt. 2)

Warnings: swearing, smut Word Count: 6.3k

Important note: The Greek mythology throughout this piece does not accurately represent Greek mythology to its fullest extent. Some things are changed for the sake of the story. One major point is the relationship between Hades and the rest of Mt. Olympus. With that being said, their relationship isn’t family-oriented, but Hades is welcome throughout Mt. Olympus and everyone gets along enough to be considered tolerated.

A/N: Please give me some feedback on this smut, that’s the hardest thing for me to write and I struggled this whole chapter so let me know your opinions, please!

-----

As she walked back into her apartment, she was met with a smirking Christine and a wide-eyed Rowan. “Jesus Christ, guys! What the hell are you doing waiting up for me?”

“I saw you two pull back into the apartment and as the best friend that I am, I decided to eavesdrop a bit,” She said, crossing her arms. “Seriously though, how was it.”

“It was amazing, Harry is just…Amazing…”

“Oh come off it, he’s just a typical guy, how amazing could he possibly be.”

“That’s the thing, he’s not the same as the other assholes around here with two brain cells,” Y/n said as she nudged Rowan’s shoulder. “Harry’s been such a good friend and for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to see him as more than that.”

“Wait, what the hell happened between you two?”

“It’s complicated, I guess,” Y/n started, looking down at her fingers. “The whole night was so weird. I met all these beautiful looking people who I just felt so… connected with. They were so kind and welcoming and listen to this Chris, a bunch of them knew my parents! They said they’ve been watching me as I’ve been practicing my botany skills and that they’re impressed. I’ve never felt prouder.

“And then there was Harry. He was just-ugh! He was so in his element tonight, mingling and introducing me to everyone like they were all his old friends. I’ve been pining over him for the last year and I started to think I had no chance and that he wasn’t interested at all but tonight… Oh my god, guys, I don’t even think I want to share these details because Ro would probably just get off on it but… Tonight we kissed! I pulled him into the kiss but then he pulled me back in again and I- “

“Y/n stop! Oh my god, you and Harry kissed? I wondered how long that was going to take! Rowan, you owe me twenty dollars.”

“Wait a second… You and Ro made a bet against how long it would take Harry and I to get together?”

“Of course we did. I thought it wouldn’t be until senior year, but Christine just kept insisting that it would happen before this year was over.”

“You’re such assholes!” Y/n said grabbing a pillow and throwing it at her friends. She couldn’t help but smile, had she been that obvious? She felt drawn to Harry in a way she couldn’t explain and know that she knew for a fact that he was interested in her too, just made her the beam.

“Goodnight, y/n,” Rowan said as he stepped up to engulf her in a hug, quickly trying to leave. “I’m going to head out now. I’ll talk to you two tomorrow.”

That night as she laid in bed thinking about Harry and the Adonis-like people she had met this evening, y/n couldn’t help but feel like for the first time she was finally in a place that felt familiar and comfortable, like home. As her anxiety and loneliness started to diminish, y/n could feel the happiness and positive energy flow not only through herself but also through the environment around her causing the plants and living things in her vicinity to feel the effects of that too.

The next morning y/n was woken up by the heavy pounding of someone knocking on her door. “Oh my fucking god, I’m going to kill whoever that is,” y/n growled, her eyes still closed as she tried to roll over.

The moment y/n got comfortable, the visitor at the door long forgotten, Christine knocked on her door. “Y/n, Harry is here. He comes bearing gifts.”

Y/n shot out of bed, opening her closet to throw on a baggy t-shirt and some sweatpants. At this point in their friendship, Harry wasn’t someone she was going to hide behind the mysterious veil of makeup. She tried that for a few weeks but with him hanging out so often, it was much easier to just let everything happen naturally. And that meant that sometimes she would see him with her crazy bedhead hair and oversized clothes. She quickly ran into the bathroom to brush her teeth and go to the restroom. When she walked out, she saw him sitting on her couch, holding a coffee.

“Hey mister,” y/n said, gaining the attention of the curly-haired boy. “I didn’t expect to see you so early today.”

“Hey love,” Harry said as he stood up and pulled y/n in for a hug, kissing her on the top of the head. “I know I should have called first, but I still haven’t explained everything about last night and it might take all day. I also missed you.”

“Oh yes, I cannot wait to hear all about the odd and mysterious thing but all I heard just now was that you missed me,” y/n said, grinning as she kissed him on the cheek. She didn’t have the fear of rejection lingering in the back of her mind anymore. Just knowing that Harry woke up at the butt crack of dawn because he missed her erased any doubts she still had frolicking her mind.

“I also brought you this coffee,” He said, pulling out the Starbucks cup from beside him. “Iced Carmel macchiato with almond milk.”

“You’re my favorite person on this planet. Christine still doesn’t know my order and I’ve known her the longest,” Y/n said, saying the last part loudly.

“Shut the hell up Y/n/n. Can you two get out of here so I can go back to bed?” Christine said.

“We should go, I forgot how early it was when I decided to just show up here,” Harry said. “Are you ready?”

“Is what I’m wearing presentable enough for whatever you have planned?”

“What you’re wearing is perfect. I think we’re just going to go by my place. It’ll be easier to explain things like that when we’re there… If it’s okay?”

“Oh, are you just trying to seduce me? Is that where this is leading?” Y/n asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Oh my god,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck as it turned a deep shade of red.

“I’m kidding,” Y/n said, gently reaching up to touch his pink-tinged cheeks. “I’ve known you for a year and I have still never even seen where you live. This is exciting for me!”

Harry just smiled before grabbing y/n’s hand and leading her towards the door. The pair walked out of the apartment complex and walked in the opposite direction of the parking lot.

“Harry where are we going? The cars are that way,” Y/n said, pointing the other direction.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

“This is going to require trust and a lot of it,” Harry said, sighing as he looked down at the girl in front of him. Y/n quickly stepped on her tippy toes, her hands finding Harry’s cheeks as she pulled him into a kiss. At the moment, she wasn’t sure if she was reassuring him of the trust she had in him or trying to make herself less guilty for questioning that trust at all.

“Let’s get to it then,” Y/n said after pulling away from the frazzled boy.

“You never cease to amaze me,” Harry said as he smiled. Once the fear of the unknown was erased, y/n and Harry continued walking deeper into the woods behind the apartment complex. As they trekked further, y/n didn’t feel fear but an overwhelming sense of direction. It felt as if she knew exactly where she was going even though she didn’t remember ever being in these woods before in her life.

“Harry,” Y/n said, causing Harry to stop where he was walking and stare at the girl beside him. She couldn’t feel him staring though. Y/n was mesmerized by yellow daffodil growing by a nearby tree. As she let go of Harry’s hand she walked toward the lone flower.

“What is it, love?”

“It’s so crazy to see this daffodil growing here,” She said as she got down on her hands and knees, lightly touching the flower. “They usually only grow in the springtime. How is it possible for them to grow in September?”

“I’m not sure, totally crazy,” Harry said as he stared at her in awe. She didn’t even know what she was doing but she was doing it all… so right. “You could pick it though if you wanted to, that way you could keep it with you.”

“I’d love to pick it, but I wouldn’t want to disturb whatever’s going on here. It’s way too precious.”

As she stood up, she noticed Harry shaking his head, his smile continues to grow. She gently tugged his arm, breaking him out of his little daze before they continued on their way. The deeper they walked into the forest, the darker their surroundings were. This made y/n’s heart rate pick up and a smile form on her face, almost as if she were riding a rollercoaster and swimming on an adrenaline high. She was loving every second.

A few minutes later, Harry stopped and stared at a nearby tree. “This is it, we’re almost there. This is the weirdest part if that’s even possible. You just really have to trust me here.”

“I do,” Y/n said, gripping his hand tighter as they walked towards the tree. She was getting more confused by the second, Harry was picking up his speed and it looked like he was going to walk right into the tree…And make her collide with him! She closed her eyes, bracing herself for impact but instead of slamming into the tree, she was hit with a new feeling: Heat, punishing heat.

As she opened her eyes and released a bit of her death grip on Harry, she noticed how different her surroundings were. PEOPLE were swimming in a moat-like area around the floor they were standing on. It was entirely clear that she wasn’t in Massachusetts anymore…

“Y/n,” Harry said, causing her to snap her head towards him. “This is where I live…”

“I love it down here!”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up and mouth fell open. Maybe he thought the disgustingly hot feeling would turn her away. Or maybe he assumed that she would hate the souls of the dead swimming around their feet or be terrified of his pet—

“Is that a dog!”

“Yeah his name is Cerberus,” Harry said chuckling as he watched her approach the usually ferocious pup with no fear. The second she made it to the pup, all three of his faces changed from their usual angry demeanor to something Harry hadn’t seen in this way before, excitement.

“H, Cerberus is SUCH a good boy,” She said, getting on her hands and knees for the second time today, this time to get closer to the happy pups begging for her attention. “You are. You’re such a good boy!”

“If I had known that bringing you here would make you lose all interest in me and turn it on to my dog… I would have brought you somewhere else to talk.”

“Oh stop it, you do not need to be jealous,” Y/n said, her attention still focused on Cerberus. “The fact that you have such a beautiful and might I add, exotic, pup just adds to my interest in you.”

“C’mon love,” Harry said. “Cerberus has a job to do and I have some explaining to do. If everything goes well with us, he’ll be happy to see you again later.”

“Okay, see you later honey,” Y/n said before kissing each of his heads and standing back up. She grabbed Harry’s hand again wrapping her arm around his, they walked past Cerberus and towards some thick stone French doors. Once they opened, y/n was mesmerized and hit with some cold air. The interior of the Underworld, while, in this instance, was cold and drab were instantly brightened the second y/n stepped through the threshold. The once dark appearance of the walls softened into a dark grey instead of the original deep black color that once colored the walls. Marble crowned moldings lined the ceilings of the Underworld with bright red accents flicked in. The stereotypical appearance one would associate with the Underworld was nothing to what y/n was experiencing this very moment. Maybe it was due to her bias towards Harry, but y/n felt at home. She felt that maybe this was where she was meant to be.

Harry watched y/n closely, trying to pick up on any distaste or discomfort she may have. Little did Harry know, y/n was so engrossed in her surroundings and her ever-growing feelings towards Harry to feel anything negative.

“Right through here are my living quarters,” Harry said as he ushered y/n in through another door.

“You have your quarters,” she said, using air quotes. “So what you’re telling me is that you’re a rich bitch?”

“I guess you could say that,” Harry said, chuckling at the reaction he was getting. “C’mon, let’s go sit on the couch.”

Y/n followed behind him as she continued to take in her surroundings. His living space even surprised her. It was dark grey with different accents that brought lots of color in such a modern way she wasn’t sure if the men she had been with previously would ever have the advanced taste that Harry did.

Harry turned around and pulled y/n along with him, guiding her towards the couch. As they sat down, he wrapped his arms around her and enveloping her in a hug.

“Are you being quiet because you just want to enjoy my company or do you just not want to talk about it,” Y/n said a few minutes later, the suspense was killing her. “Because as much as I would love to just sit here and cuddle with you, I’m also dying to know what else you’re hiding from me.

“It’s not that bad, y/n,” Harry said as he released a breath, he didn’t know he was holding. “Do you know anything about Greek Mythology?”

“Of course, I was such a nerd in school, it was so interesting, and I felt so connected to it.”

“Of course you did,” Harry said, letting out a small chuckle. “Well before I start… Please keep an open mind.”

Y/n nodded her head before looking back up at Harry. “This might sound crazy but I’m Hades, King of the Underworld.”

Harry paused awaiting her reaction before y/n started to laugh. “Right, okay.”

“You think it’s a joke but I’m telling you the truth. There’s a story about Persephone and Hades, it’s a prophecy because it’s not fictional. That’s the only prophecy that hasn’t come true yet. The only one! And I’ve spent so long waiting for the love of my life, and I’ve been searching for her for hundreds of years. It wasn’t until Demeter had another child that I regained my hope.”

“Who’s Demeter?” Y/n asked, interrupting his story.

“Oh, you met her the other night, but she introduced herself as Demi,” Harry said as he clarified, pausing to gauge her reaction before continuing. “The prophecy stated that Hades will eventually break the curse of loneliness and despair from a woman named Persephone. She will be both kind and cruel, using both only at the most necessary of times. It’s prophesied that she will live with him in the Underworld. That’s you y/n, you’re my Persephone.”

“Wait for a second, this is all so much,” Y/n said trying to slow down her brain to process each part. “You’re telling me that you’re a god and all those people we met the other night are gods too?”

“Yeah I am, it probably sounds weird when you say it like that.”

“Harry, that’s not what makes it sound weird,” Y/n said, nudging his shoulder with her arm. “But does that mean that Demi is…”

“Your mom, yeah.”

“No way, my mom died after I was born. It was a freak car accident.”

“That’s not the truth, y/n. Your parents are Demeter and Zeus, you were introduced to them as Demi and Jove,” Harry said, rubbing her cheek. “When you were born there were a few people afraid of what you would mean to me, your parents, and the underworld. They didn’t know who at the time, but someone kidnapped you from Mt. Olympus… They had been trying to find you for years and then when they finally did… You were already on your own and thriving.”

“My parents are alive? I just that's so crazy… I’ve spent the last twenty years thinking I was alone and now to find out I’m not is-,” Y/n paused to wipe away her tears. “Harry it’s such a relief.”

“C’mere love,” he said pulling her into another hug. “You were never alone, I’m sorry that it ever felt like you were.”

Y/n molded into Harry resting her cheek on his chest. Of course, she wasn’t alone, not anymore. “Harry?”

“What is it, honey?”

“This prophecy… Is it kind of insinuating that I’m your mate?”

“Basically. If werewolves were real and I was a werewolf, the attraction I feel towards you now would feel similar to mating werewolves,” Harry said, choosing his words carefully.

“Woah,” Y/n said as she pushed herself off of Harry’s couch. “So you’re like really into me…”

“Yes, I am,” Harry said as he tried to hold back a laugh at y/n’s bewildered expression. “That doesn’t mean that you’re obligated to feel everything back towards me or in the same way. Being raised in the mortal world changes things for a person. I don’t want to smother you.”

"And this place is the Underworld? Like those were people floating out there in the water?"

"Well yes, this is the Underworld," Harry said as he chose his words carefully. "Those aren't exactly people floating down there but their souls instead."

“Is it a completely inappropriate time to ask if we could make out?” She asked, her cheeks turning red, but her eye contact never faltering.

“Maybe,” Harry said, smirking at her. “But I would never decline such a tempting offer from my girl. That is pretty dark though. Me telling you about the floating souls makes you want to make out?”

Y/n giggled as she leaned in, molding her lips to Harry’s. The first contact of every kiss between the two felt more magical than the one before. Harry grabbed y/n’s hips bringing her closer by pulling her body into his lap. The surprise of the contact caused y/n to gasp allowing Harry to deepen the kiss. When she felt his tongue swipe across her lower lip, she couldn’t help but groan at the contact.

Y/n pulled away, reaching for the hem of her shirt to pull it over her head before Harry stopped her. “Baby no, we don’t have to.”

“I want to Harry,” She said before pulling her shirt off completely. “I know what I want and right now, I want you.”

“Are you sure?”

Y/n smiled while nodding before reaching for his shirt. Harry lifted his arms, making the process easier. Once they were both shirtless, Harry reached for the waistband of her sweatpants. “May I?”

“Yes, please,” Y/n said before lifting her hips to allow the process to go smoother. Once her pants were off y/n quickly unhooked her bra before throwing it across the room. She wasn’t normally the kind of girl who had her full confidence while sitting naked in front of a lover but there was something in the way that Harry was looking at her that washed all of her worries and doubt away.

“You’re so beautiful, love. C’mere,” Harry said, letting out a breath as he reached for her face before bringing their lips back together. They kiss once again becoming more passionate as they continued the sensual assault on each other’s lips.

“Y/n,” Harry said as he broke away, his breathing erratic. “Can I try something? Can I eat you out?”

“Oh my god,” Y/n said, her eyes growing wide. No one had ever done that for her before let alone ask but she couldn’t deny that his blown pupils and dreamy look on his on the face had her dying to figure out what this man could do with his tongue.

“We don’t have to- “

“Fuck no, please eat me out, please- “

Before she could finish her sentence, Harry stood up, smiling as he motioned for her to sit back on the couch. She watched him, nerves raking through her body but as he reached forward to pull the lower half of her body closer to the edge of the couch.

“You have such a pretty pussy, love,” Harry moaned out, getting on his knees to get a look.

“H stop staring and get to work,” Y/n said, her cheeks getting hot but her body getting impatient. He quickly got the memo as licked a stripe along her slit.

“Mm, you taste so good, baby.”

Y/n moaned out as her legs spasmed unexpectedly, a dull ache started to burn in her lower abdomen. She reached out, tangling her fingers into his hair and tugging. “Don’t stop,” she sighed, her grasp tightening on the handful of hair.

“Does that feel good, love,” Harry asked, looking up at her through his eyelashes with a smirk on his face.

“It feels so good. So good, oh-!” She said as Harry slipped two fingers inside, stretching her out before continuing his assault on her clit.

“I’m sorry lovey, you’re just so tight. I’m a bit big so we need to stretch you out a little bit,” Harry said as he began shaping his fingers in a come-hither motion, brushing the spongey part inside of her.

“Oh my god, I’m going to cum” Y/n whimpered. Her legs were trying to squeeze shut but Harry grabbed onto her inner thighs as he rested, rubbing gently on the soft flesh but pulling them apart.

“Let it out, baby,” Harry said, before curling his fingers again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Y/n chanted after his fingers grazed her g-spot again, causing her to find her release.

“You did so well, baby,” Harry said as he stood up and scooped y/n up in his arms before walking across the room with her in his arms and placing her on his bed.

“Kiss me,” y/n mumbled, reaching for Harry’s face.

“You’re incredible,” he responded before, pressing his lips against hers again. Y/n continued caressing Harry’s face with one hand, but she trailed the other hand down his torso, reaching inside of Harry’s sweatpants and boxers.

“You’re so big,” she whined against his mouth.

“Quit it, baby, you’re inflating my ego way too much,” Harry said before smirking at her.

“Do you want me to suck you off right now?” Y/n questioned, looking at Harry with hooded eyes, still in her post-orgasm bliss.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” Harry said as he shook his head before pressing a wet kiss against her neck. “Of course I’d love for you to suck me off but how about we save that for another time, yeah? I don’t think I’d last very long anyway.”

“Yeah, later,” Y/n said, her heart rate starting to pick up in anticipation. After a moment she softly said, “Please fuck me, Harry.”

“Sh, patience lovey,” Harry said before pressing another quick kiss to her lips. He pulled back before reaching into his nightstand to grab a condom. Y/n leaned forward, grabbing Harry’s pants and pulling them down to his knees before snatching the condom from his hands.

“You take your pants of mister; I’ll take care of this.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry said, his eyes wide before he started scrambling to take his pants off. Once he was fully naked y/n sat up on her knees, ripping off the top of the package. Grabbing his dick with one hand, y/n leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to the leaking red head of his cock.

“You told me that you didn’t want a blowie right now, but I still had to show it some attention,” Y/n mumbled out as she rolled the condom on, causing Harry to hiss in pleasure.

Once everything was situated, y/n leaned back against the pillows on the bed, letting her legs fall to the side, inviting Harry to follow her. He quickly got the idea, moving to align his body with hers. Harry grabbed his dick, nudging the head against her folds before asking again for reassurance.

“I’m sure H, I’m so sure,” y/n said as she rubbed the hair off his forehead. “Give it to me.”

With that, Harry pushed inside slowly. Inch by inch allowing her to take a few moments to adjust and accommodate the foreign feeling. After Harry bottomed out, filling her up to the hilt, y/n was engulfed with pleasure. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her heels into his lower back.

After hearing her moans of pleasure, Harry pulled back out slowly before quickly thrusting back into her. “You feel so good, baby. You’re taking me so well.”

“So fucking good,” Y/n said, her hands reaching for his hair again.

“How are you so tight,” Harry moaned as he continued his thrusts. Y/n let out another loud moan before reaching down to rub her

clit. Harry noticed the action and pushed her hand away.

“Harry, baby, I’m so close,” y/n whined.

“I know baby, me too, but let me take care of you,” Harry said as

he replaced her hand with his, rubbing circles on her clit to bring her over the edge.

   “I’m gonna- fuck!”

   “Me too baby,” Harry said. After a few more thrusts he let out a particularly pornographic groan, causing y/n’s heart to swell with pride knowing it was her that was partly responsible for how he felt.

   Harry laid his body partially on top of y/n’s. Both of them riding their orgasms out together. A few moments later, Harry pulled out, tying the condom and throwing it in the trashcan beside his bed. He stood up, walking to the bathroom that was attached to his living quarters and grabbing a warm washcloth to clean y/n. After they were both cleaned up, she watched him crawl back into bed before grabbing the duvet at the end of the bed and covering them both with it.

   “Can I have some cuddles,” Y/n asked, making grabby hands at Harry.

   “You can have cuddles any time you want, my love,” Harry said before wrapping his arms around her body and kissing her forehead.

   “Thank you for today, Mr. King of the Underworld,” she mumbled out, sighing in content at the warmth of his arms surrounding her.

   “Thank you for staying here and not letting it scare you off,” Harry breathed out. “You blow my mind.”

“I can’t believe that you’re my boyfriend,” She said, before closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.

Y/n was hot. Not in a ‘we just had sex that was hot’ kind of way. But she felt like she was on fire. She tried to sit up before she realized where she was. Y/n laid back down, placing her head back onto Harry’s chest. She hadn’t spent a lot of time in her life wondering what Hades would feel like. But as she spent a few moments letting her mind wonder she could feel herself imagining that the fictional Hades was cold as ice, considering his rough exterior and need to be on guard at all times. As she relaxed in Harry’s grasp though, she realized that no matter what kind of imaginary scenario she played out in her head, no matter how she pictured the fictional depiction of Hades… Harry was nothing like that.

Even from the start when she noticed the beautiful brooding man getting frustrated with his brown thumb, he was warm and kind. Maybe he was just that way with her, maybe the whole prophecy as he called it was true. But the assumptions and stories that were written about him had got it all wrong. He was a serious man, that part was written correctly but he had to be considering what his job demanded of him. Beneath that hard shell of an exterior though, he was kind and he had a soft heart. Spending time writing poetry and writing songs about love. He wanted to make her happy, and y/n took notice. There was absolutely no hiding it, as she reveled in her surroundings and the comfortable feeling of his arms, she allowed herself to admit that she was completely and utterly smitten with Harry.

Over the last year y/n had noticed little things about him, things that always brought a bit of hope when considering a relationship simmering the back of her mind. He had a rough exterior and a serious expression. He wore that often but for some reason whenever he looked towards her, it softened. She liked that she had that kind of effect on him, it made her feel special. And now she didn’t have to worry about those fleeting moments because he was hers and she was his. They hadn’t discussed the gritty details but to her, it was a relationship through and through. She didn’t have to question her value in his life because he was doing a great job of showing her, constantly.

“Ello love,” Harry said as he stirred from his nap, pulling her into him tighter.

“Hi, handsome.”

“I just remembered something,” Harry said, his cheeks turning red.

“And what is that?”

“I wrote you a little something… I was going to give it to you before dinner the other night, but I chickened out. I’m not afraid to give it to you anymore. I know you won’t judge me.”

“Oh really,” Y/n said, smiling up at him before kissing him on the cheek. “Well, go get it for me Mr. Poetry.”

Harry got out of bed before walking into the other room. Moments later he walked back in carrying a folded sheet of paper. He slowly sat back down on the bed before handing over the sheet of paper. Y/n made grabby hands, quickly intercepting the paper. As she opened it, she felt her heart swell.

To my sweet Persephone,

You know me as Harry, you’ve been able to get to know me in

a way few souls ever have. There are a few things my heart, usually hard as stone but soft as putty for you, aches to tell you. I’ve never seen a soul radiate the kind of energy that yours does. It is both the most beautiful soul that I can see bubbling over with kindness and also a very dark soul hardened with darkness. You care and create life through plants with just your fingertips, whether you know it or not… This is one of the things you were born to do. This just proves that you are the most extraordinary woman on this planet. A goddess, if you will. The prophecy likes to paint the picture as me being the bad guy, one who will kidnap you and force you to spend your days locked in solitude with me. That couldn’t be farther from the truth, my love. It’s true, I would love for you to live with me, rule the Underworld as my Queen. That is if you’re ready for that.

I love you.

 H Xx.

   Y/n felt the air leave her chest as she stared at the words in front of her. ‘LOVE.’ As cliché as it was, those were her favorite combination of letters. She took a deep breath, taking a second to flash through all of her memories. Never in her life had she felt such an overwhelming sense of belonging.

   “You don’t have to say it back,” Harry said quickly, rubbing the back of his burning neck. “It’s hard to explain but the second we met; I always knew I was destined to love you. With that in mind, it wasn’t hard for me to just fall into it. I know this is all new to you so you’re probably not quite there yet and I don’t want you to feel obligated to say it back.”

   Y/n smiled before looking up at Harry’s nervous eyes. “I’m not going to say I’m there yet, because I was raised in the mortal world and it would make me crazy to just throw out those eight letters. I know that I’m getting there, though. You’ll just have to be patient with me.”

   Harry nodded, a smile forming. “I’ll take that.”

   Y/n smiled back at the green-eyed man in front of her, nuzzling her face in his chest before wrapping her hands around his waist. “Can you show me around your little kingdom, please.”

   “You know I couldn’t tell you no,” Harry said as he kissed her forehead. “I just don’t want it to freak you out.”

   “Hey Mr. Tough guy, don’t get too soft on me now. You wouldn’t want all the lost souls floating around here to think that you have any weaknesses,” she said nudging his nose with hers.

   “I know for a fact that you’re not one of my weaknesses, at least not where other people are concerned. I’m not going to lie though; I might get a little possessive of you around other people or even around the souls in the river…”

   “A little possessiveness is sexy,” She said before putting her hands on his cheeks and pulling him in for a quick kiss. “Let’s go explore now!”

   Much to Harry’s reluctance, they got out of bed and put on their clothes. He guided her out his sleeping quarters and down the poorly lit corridor into what one would be considered a dungeon. Instead, though, it was the workspace of Hades with a desk in the center of the room with a chair that held the essence of a throne. Y/n brought her hands to the chest before turning around and letting out a squeal.

   “This place is so fucking cool,” She said speaking her thoughts. “It’s exactly how I pictured Hades in the Underworld. All dark and badass. I was expecting some floating souls or something more terrifying though.”

   “Oh my Gods, woman! Of course, you were expecting the souls. They’re this way,” He said before shaking his head and grabbing her hand again. For the third time that day, y/n followed Harry down another corridor. This time though, the further they walked down the hallway the brighter and warmer it got.

   “It’s uncomfortably warm down here, H.”

   “That’s only because we are so far down in Earth’s core. The myths don’t get it all right, there aren’t any crazy fires that burn people for eternity… It’s just so hot because of the molten lava,” Harry said nonchalantly as he opened a large steel door that revealed the millions of souls that resided there.

   “Woah,” Y/n said with wide eyes as she stepped through the threshold of the room. In front of her was the River of Lost Souls. The souls weren’t lost per se but instead were just destined to swim around the river aimlessly and for eternity. This would be considered a reward for the souls that weren’t destructive or murderous during their lives. There was always a chance for these souls, if able to prove themselves to return to the world of the living or working in the Underworld if granted the privilege by Hades himself. The tortured souls though were destined to an eternity of punishment and damnation. Forced to spend the rest of the days doing the things that torment them the most, a form of the cruelest kind of punishment.

   “It’s kind of mesmerizing when you first look at it,” Harry said as he looked at y/n while rubbing the back of his neck.

   “What happens if you touch the water,” Y/n said as she took a step forward, bending down to place her hand in the water. The moment that her hand made contact with the water; a hand wrapped around her wrist causing Y/n scream.

   “Harry, what’s happening!” She said, using all of her strength to get her hand back from the unknown captor.

Quickly Harry reached into the water himself and grabbed the hand clutching Y/n’s wrist. As he detached the hand he bent down to the water before sternly saying, “You have lost all rights to one day be rewarded freedom or opportunities. At this moment you have been banished to live out the rest of the days in eternal punishment.”

“What did you just do,” Y/n asked as soon as Harry stood back up.

“I just punished the soul that harmed you,” He said before grabbing her wrist to inspect the damage done.

“That’s not fair to that soul,” Y/n said before turning the wrist in his grasp to hold onto his forearm. “They were just trying to get the attention of you. I think you should let them return here if this is an easier punishment. I’m not hurt, it just scared me.”

“I can’t do that because I will not be seen as weak,” Harry said, his eyes going darker at the possibility of losing control of the soul.

“You won’t be seen as weak; I doubt you’ve ever done anything like this before. Please do it this once, for me?” Y/n asked as she pouted her lips before looking up into Harry’s eyes.

“You have way too much control over me,” Harry said before smiling down at her softly and pressing a kiss on her forehead.

Y/n smiled before kissing his cheek and saying, “Do you want to go back to your room and cuddle? Unless you have work to do and need me to leave…”

“I would love to go back and cuddle with you.”

[writing-royza]

Royai Week Prompt Three - Old Wounds

Old Wounds

Weapons could be used to wound. Any first-grader that got a lecture from their mother about scissors and sharp knives knew that. But he had hit upon one that, although it had wounded him time and again, it also healed him. Riza had been the cause or reason for several major marks inflicted on him – physical and psychological – and yet Roy knew he’d never be able to let go of her. On the surface, sure. Physically, yes. But never in the deepest recesses of his heart.

Because any wound she caused or he incurred on her behalf, he had only to look at her for it to fade away.

———————-

Logically speaking, he shouldn’t be scared of her.

She was a lone thirteen-year-old girl that kept to herself, did her homework, kept a level head on her shoulders, and somehow still managed to keep the entire house (besides the library) clean and have a hot meal ready at the end of the day. There was absolutely nothing about her that should make him break out in the cold sweat that every hormonal teenage boy dreaded… but that was the exact effect she had on him.

If there was anyone with the last name ‘Hawkeye’ that he should be scared of, it was her father. Her terse, intimidating, single-minded father… but somehow, he garnered much less fear in Roy’s book.

He sat on the overstuffed couch in the study, both feet on the floor, both hands on the book in his lap… and tried to recall what he was supposed to be reading. Every muscle was tense, his jaw clenched, he was afraid to move… and all she was doing was sitting on the opposite couch, facing him, scribbling on a notepad and occasionally checking some bit of information in the book beside her. Her legs were tucked up underneath her, the toes of her bare feet wiggling idly as she worked, light concentration turning those already serious brown eyes somber. That was as much as he could see without lifting his head and making it obvious he was watching her.

Finally, enough of the tension eased from his chest to allow him to speak. “What —“ Having been quiet for so long, his voice gave one of its embarrassing mid-puberty squeaks, and he coughed to unsuccessfully cover it. Riza looked up, and he almost lost his nerve, then swallowed hard and tried again. “What are you working on?”

“Oh.” She held up the book. “Book report. Although it’s less of a report and more of a ‘I hope I’m getting this right,’ because the prose is heavy and kind of hard to understand.”

Roy tried a smile. “Yeah. I recognize the title. That’s a rough one.”

His heart started racing as she returned the smile – in a very pretty fashion for someone so terrifying, he had to admit – before she shifted to sit with her back braced on the armrest, her knees drawn up to create a kind of easel for her notepad. “I’ll still take this over my math homework any day.”

“You have trouble with that, too?” Curiosity was drawing him in, now. At her confirming nod, he set his book aside. “Maybe I can help. I mean… I’m a couple years older than you; chances are I’ve had to deal with it already.”

The look she gave him was sidelong, evaluating the offer. After a moment, she said, “Well… I understood basic trigonometry well enough. Sine, cosine, all that. But we just started talking last week about “functions” and I’m already lost.” Her lips twitched in a suppressed smile. “You might say my math skills have become… non-functional.”

He knew he was staring at her. Open-mouthed, no less. He hadn’t been expecting a joke like that, not from her. She was so quiet, so reserved…. This had to be once-in-a-blue-moon sort of thing for her. Laugh, he thought hazily. Laugh before she gets insulted and puts you out of your misery for good.

He settled for a smothered snort, shaking his head with a grin. “I might be able to help a little bit. That stuff was clear as mud to me, as well.” He looked up, still smiling. “What do you say – shall we make it a study date?”

It was exactly the wrong phrasing to use. He saw her walls go up, saw her dart back into her shell… a dozen metaphors came to mind, all leading to the same conclusion. Roy had firmly overstepped his bounds, had trod on this already tenuous new ground, and stepped directly on the new flower of a possible friendship.

You don’t use the word ‘date’ that fast around a kid like her, idiot, he scolded himself. If she didn’t already barely tolerate you, now she’s just going to think you’re a creep. How are you going to fix —

“I… don’t think a date is necessary.” His train of thought cut off abruptly as she dropped her feet to the floor, gathered her book and notepad, and rose. “I should go,” she added quietly. There was no other emotion in her voice, no obvious discomfort, no open dislike… and somehow that was worse. More condemning.

Roy could think of nothing to say as she headed for the door. His mind was reeling with a combination of embarrassment, rejection, and returning fear, all three emotions leaving painful little scratch marks on his heart. Just as her hand reached for the doorknob, he managed a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

Riza froze instantly, then turned to look at him. “Pardon?”

Swallowing the hurt, he sat straight and forced himself to look her in the eye. “I… made that really awkward, and put you in an uncomfortable position,” he said, knowing he sounded overly formal but not having any idea what other words to use. “I’m sorry about that.”

She watched him for several agonizing heartbeats, her expression unreadable, then nodded. “Apology accepted.” She tilted her head, that small smile coming back. “And, hey…. I said no to the date part, not to some help studying. If you’re still willing.”

———————-

Sometimes, he wished he had paid more attention to constellations and important stars in school. Alchemy, chemistry, physics… that had all come first in his mind, not little points of light in the night sky that would still be there when he decided to take the time to learn about them.

Of course, in Central, seeing stars at night was a rarity. The streetlights dimmed them, if not causing them to vanish altogether. At the Academy, he’d been so tired every night when he finally crawled into the bunk that he couldn’t stay awake to stargaze even if he’d wanted to.

But here, in the desert landscape of Ishval, the sky came alive at night.

Lying on his back, dark eyes wide, he stared the sparkling skyscape overhead, trying to memorize all the stories Riza would spin for him, trying to memorize name after name… and failing horribly. He alternated between watching the sky and watching the graceful movements of her fingers as they traced shapes on the starry backdrop.

“This one is Eagle’s Flight,” she said, pointing to a cluster of stars in the shape of a capital T. “The tip of one wing, to its head, to the other wing, with the tail back here. And this is the first one I learned about: Mother Bear.” She traced an uneven rectangle between four stars. “The body…” Her finger trailed along several bright dots. “…a tail…” In front of the rectangle, she added a triangle that culminated in a single forward-facing point. “…and her head.”

He couldn’t help himself. “Bears don’t have tails that long.”

“Seen many bears, have you?” she shot back easily.

Rolling his eyes, he gave up, pointing instead to another section of stars. “What about that one? Is that anything?”

Riza thought a moment, then nodded. “The Seated Queen. She said that she and her daughter were more beautiful than any sea nymph, and that made the god of the sea so angry that he sent a sea monster to destroy the kingdom. The only way he would stop was if the queen and her husband sacrificed their daughter to the monster.”

He turned his head so that he could see her, lying on her back in the sand like he was, her eyes on the stars. “…You’re kidding. You’re making that up.” She shook her head. “What kind of crazy fairy tales were you reading as a kid?!”

“It’s not a fairy tale, it’s a legend,” she corrected him, though teasingly. “Anyway, the daughter was saved before she could be eaten, by a hero – that’s his constellation over there – and the queen and her husband – over there – were placed next to each other in the stars.”

“Hey, that’s a good deal,” he said dryly. “Agree to sacrifice your daughter and be immortalized forever as a bunch of balls of hot, burning gas.”

She laughed quietly, and the two of them sank into companionable silence. Roy breathed deep of the cooling air, wondering how a moment like this – a moment of personal peace and relaxation – could be achieved in the middle of a warzone. He had almost no right to be lying here, calm, when tomorrow he could be sent back out with the first wave of a new attack.

He turned his head slightly, just enough so that he could see her, and watched her eyes still roaming the sky. They flitted from one group of stars to the next, trailed the lines that, of the two of them, only she could see. He could see a shadow of that young girl he’d known, had helped to figure out math homework in the dusty, close confines of her father’s personal library.

Back then, she’d had bruised and scratched-up legs from being outside every moment she could. The soles of her feet were blackened and calloused, requiring a scrub in the bathtub every night, from going barefoot in the summer heat. She had climbed trees with the best of them, swum in the small stream two hundred metres behind her house, and sat perfectly still to let a butterfly alight on the palm of her hand while he watched breathlessly.

And now she was here, with him. She wore the same uniform he did. She had the same tired, dark circles under her eyes that he did. Her hands held the same bloodstains as his… and it was all his fault. She had followed him to this place, and in doing so, he had condemned her, body and soul.

He looked away quickly; too quickly. She noticed.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he said, casually, knowing that the answer wasn’t going to satisfy her. “Just thinking.”

A moment of silence, then, “Not thinking.” Her voice was soft, knowing and sympathetic… but unyielding. “Brooding.”

“Hm.”

Her elbow nudged his ribs. Not painfully, but enough to signal that a second nudge might not be as gentle. “Say it aloud,” she advised. “It’s not going to do you any good if it just sits and festers in your mind.”

Roy held his tongue, trying to wait her out. If he didn’t admit what he had been thinking, she couldn’t hate him for it. She couldn’t hate him for drawing her into this life, for using her father’s research the way he was. She couldn’t hate… him.

But he should have known better than to try to out-wait a sniper. Finally, after fifteen minutes of near-deafening silence, with her head turned so that her eyes were staring holes into his cheek, he let out a a deep sigh. “All right, all right, you win already. I was just… I was thinking that… I’m sorry. Sorry that I drew you into this life.”

Riza said nothing, and after several awkward seconds, he sat up, staring out at the nighttime sands. “I’m sorry that you felt you had to follow me into the military, that it got you sent here, that you’re forced into doing… what it is we do.” More long seconds of silence followed, twisting the knife of guilt a little further into his heart. “I’m so sorry, Riza. For all of it.”

“Does that include thinking so little of me that you believe I’m incapable of my own decisions?”

His head whipped around to find her still lying flat on her back in the sand, her legs crossed at the ankles, her fingers laced together and resting at the bottom of her ribcage, her eyes calm and on the stars once again. “…What?”

“What what?” she countered. “Do you honestly think that I followed you into the military because of some schoolgirl crush? Or maybe you think that you spoke so eloquently about rebuilding the country and using alchemy to help people that I just threw away whatever dreams I had of a civilian life and dashed headlong for the nearest recruitment centre?” She snorted quietly. “Give me some credit, please.”

Roy wasn’t sure what to say, either in general or that wouldn’t make her angrier than she clearly already was, so he kept his mouth shut. Riza continued. “You may have sparked the idea, pardon the pun, of joining the military, but you’re far from the reason I enlisted. I made that decision on my own, based on my own interests. Yes, that led to me being stationed out here, yes, that has led to my having to do things I regret. But in all of it – enlistment, training, being assigned to Ishval – the only point where my hand was forced is in, as you said, doing what we do.”

She got to her feet, brushing herself off. “I gave you my father’s secrets, Roy. I didn’t give you control over my actions or my life. You want to be a leader? You’d do well to remember that.”

Turning, she started back toward the nearby glow of the tents and campfires, leaving him feeling as though one of Kimblee’s explosions had gone off directly underneath him. It sank in, slowly, like ice-cold fingers, that he had probably just ruined one of two genuine friendships he had in this hellhole, and when Hughes heard about this, he could kiss the second one goodbye as well.

You idiot, his mind growled at him. Get off your ass and get after her. Don’t lose her after all you’ve been through.

Scrambling to his feet, he took off, sending sand flying. “Hawkeye, wait up!”

To his relief, she paused, half-turning to watch him approach. Her expression gave nothing away, neither anger or willingness to forgive. Roy skidded slightly as he came to a halt, swallowing hard in nervousness. “I – That was… unfair of me. I assumed a lot of things out of… of guilt, I guess, at finding you here, in a place like this. I feel….”

He struggled with the words for the moment, but she waited, hands folded, watching. “I feel… responsible for you, somehow. Your dad asked me to look after you, and up until now, I’ve done a pretty piss-poor job of that.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair, trying to figure out just how the hell expressing oneself was supposed to work. “You were right, the decisions that brought you here are yours. You’re responsible for your own life. I guess… I just feel guilty that I haven’t done more, and can’t do much, to make sure it’s a happy one.”

When it was clear his words had run out, she spoke. “Would you like to know something that does make me happy?”

He grinned lopsidedly, and only half-heartedly. “Will it make me feel less awful?”

“Maybe.” Her smile was small, knowing. “Something that makes me happy… is seeing someone receive information, and accepting that information and using it to change their outlook. To grow themselves as a person.” She tilted her head to one side, regarding him closely. “And I believe I just saw that.”

He felt it go, felt that cold ice-knife of guilt slide out of the rip it had torn into him, felt the warm, affirming words close up the wound with no blood spilled, and leave him just a little stronger.

“I’ll try to live up to that.” He glanced upward. “Maybe it’s not worth being immortalized in the stars, but it ought to count for something.”

Her fingers brushed, feather-light, against his and then withdrew. “It already counts for a lot.”

———————-

He remembered thinking “oh, good, that’s the last of it” before catching a faint whiff of charred skin, and having to turn away to be violently sick. The tent was too confined, too dark, too oppressively hot all at once, and yet his pulse roared in his ears, spots of light swam in his vision, and a deep chill ran through him.

He spat the foul taste of bile from his mouth, glancing back over her shoulder.

Riza was on her knees, crouched low, her forehead pressed to the sandy ground that served as a floor. He could hear her breathing, the sound coming in sharp hisses around the leather belt clamped between her teeth. Her right hand, the only one he could readily see, slowly clenched and unclenched, compressing and flattening the same palmful of grit over and over.

His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “Hawkeye?”

Her hand froze, then reached with agonizing slowness to the belt and pulled it from her mouth. “Bottom of my kit,” she gritted. “Small white bottle. Get it.”

Roy’s stomach rolled as he moved to do as she said, but he swallowed hard and kept whatever was left in his stomach down. Wriggling a hand through the various articles in her pack, down to the bottom, he fished about until he found something that felt like a bottle. It rattled as he brought it out.

“Pain pills?” he asked, turning toward her.

“For… you know.” She had shifted so that she was sitting, though she was still bent forward. Her cheeks, ashen until now, coloured slightly. “For… ‘women’s troubles?’”

He looked at the label again, read the active ingredient in the medication, and the dosage, his brain feeling fuzzy and sluggish. “…Damn, it hurts bad enough for extra-strength?”

She held out her hand, crooking her fingers impatiently. “Dealing with that means I can deal with this,” she said, just a little sharply. “Two should help.”

“Right, sorry.” He noticed, belatedly, that his fingers were shaking as he twisted the cap off the bottle. The little white tablets inside rattled even harder as he eased a pair of them from the container and passed them to her, watching in dull surprise as she dry-swallowed them, one by one.

He had a sneaking suspicion he was in shock. The one rational part of his brain could realize that. The confusion, the cold sweat, the tent seeming to tilt one way then another around him… all signs pointed to it. He should tell Riza, tell her so that when he most likely passed out, she would know why. It seemed only polite.

She was sitting calm and collected, her eyes closed, taking deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. Maybe he should try that. Mimic her, and in doing so, find some kind of emotional anchor in this storm of emotion.

It hit him again. What had he done? To her, to one of the single most important people in his life, to the quiet girl and stoic woman whom – he had to admit – he had somehow fallen head over heels for? He had marked her. He had marred her. She had been perfect and whole and now —

He watched as she gathered the tan overcoat of her uniform to her chest, apparently realized rather belatedly that she was sitting in the dark without any sort of covering up top. She hugged the fabric, looking his direction… and stopped. “…What?”

“…Can you forgive me for this?”

Brown eyes, dulled slightly by the pain, stared at him for a long moment. Then, quietly, “Roy, I asked you for this. I asked you to destroy it.”

“I didn’t. Destroy it, I mean. Not all of it.” Her eyes flashed with hot anger in the darkness and he scrambled to explain himself. “Riza, I couldn’t! I don’t care how strong you are, that much would…. Even if I held back the most I could, it’d kill you. You can’t go to the medics with this, you know you can’t. They’ll ask too many questions. If I burned that tattoo in its entirety, you’d go into shock and you’d die. Hell, I’m in shock and all I did was snap my fingers!”

Her eyes still smoldered, unrelenting. “So then how —“

“The parts I burnt are absolutely vital to understanding everything else. They tie it all together,” he explained. “It’s… it was surgical, I guess. Precision shots. Without those three spots, the rest is next to useless.”

She was quiet for several beats, then murmured, “Precision shots…. Like a sniper.” The heat was gone from her eyes, the glare fading. “I’m…. I can still be my own person.”

“You always have been.” The smile he offered was nowhere near strong enough to be genuine, but it was a valiant try. “You’re the smartest, strongest, most independent, self-reliant, quick-witted person I know. I’d keep going with adjectives, because I know there’s at least three dozen more, but I can’t think of them.” He closed his eyes, willing the tent to stop spinning, or at least to spin a little less violently. “I want that for you, I want you to have that freedom to be yourself because if any of us deserves to come out of this place with even half a chance, it’s you. It’s you and Hughes.”

“You’re leaving somebody out,” she prodded gently.

He shook his head. “I don’t think you realize how badly this place has hit home for me. I said I wanted to help people, but… I think I’ve got an entire nation – and any others we’re fighting with – to help. I’m not dragging you two into that. Hughes has that girlfriend of his to go home to, you’ve got the rest of your life in front of you.”

“You’re right on that, but wrong on another thing.”

His eyes opened just in time for her to press a soft kiss to his cheek, her hand folding around his. “I’m not leaving here without you.” The words were soft, but anchored stolidly in conviction. “You’ve got big dreams for this country… and thanks to you, so do I. And you’re going to need help to make those happen.”

———————-

His eyes snapped open to darkness, but it wasn’t the darkness of lying on the sand under an Ishvalan sky. Instead, only the whitewashed ceiling stared back at him. The sheets were tangled around his legs, some faint draft turning the sheen of a light sweat icy against his bare chest. Even that did nothing to dispel the summer warmth permeating the apartment.

Nights like this often brought the past back to him in dreams. Sometimes pleasant, more often not. But more and more frequently in the not-too-distant past, it had become much easier to handle.

The reason why was sprawled next to him, her hair lying half on her pillow and half on his, one hand beneath the pillow and the other curled to her chest, her dog draped over one extended leg, and her mouth open just enough for the faintest of snores to issue forth.

Turning onto his side, Roy slid an arm around Riza’s waist, tugging her close against him. If she only knew that she became as un-Riza-like as physically possible while she slept…. He suspected she would find that potentially embarrassing, but he loved it. Hell, he loved her.

And, in the end, that was the miracle balm for any wound, no matter how far in the past or near the present it was.

[yeenybeanies]

A Bad Dream

i’ve loved bloodborne for years now, & just recently actually started playing it ( never mind that it’s kicking my ass ). hence some inspo to write a lil bit with it :> 

a hunter ( bloodborne ) & borrower reader ( 2nd person pov ) 

1492 words

mild language warning

feel free to leave comments in the tags!! thank you!!

There’s a chill in the air. Normally that wouldn’t be unusual, but you can tell––something in the setting sun and the rising moon that you can’t quite place, but you can feel it in your guts and bones and under your skin––that this night is different. It is something sinister. Evil? Perhaps. You aren’t sure. 

The moon looks far bigger tonight than it ever had––at least, you think it does. Has the moon always been so big? So bright? The streets of Yharnam, too, go quiet early on. Maybe the Yharnamites sense it too, whatever it was, and have taken to holing up in their homes for the night. You think you should do the same; tonight does not seem like a night for a borrower to be out. 

Those thoughts resonate stronger as you make your way through the streets, hugging the walls and curbs and whatever shelter you can find. Activity starts to pick up again; though still empty of people, monstrosities––gross, grotesque, twisted figures––now roam about, dragging their dirty rifles and pitchforks and cleavers behind them. Normal Yharnamites are to be avoided as is, but these? You want nothing to do with these. You don’t even know what these are––if they even are Yharnamites. You’ve never seen such disfigured, beastly–––

The Hunt. 

The Hunt. 

Tonight is the night of the hunt. Tonight! Of all nights! Oh, tonight you’ve wandered far from your home, and tonight is the night of the hunt! Realization runs through you, and you feel like your veins have suddenly been filled with ice. You shiver, too, your body afflicted with a chill both metaphorical and literal. 

No, no, no. You need to get home now. It is not safe to be outside in the Hunt. 

Fear keeps you shaking, but alert. You make your way through the streets as best you can, sprinting between bits of cover whenever you see an opportunity to do so. It’s utterly terrifying, seeing all the beasts, so big and horrible, wandering about. Mangey dogs, semi-grounded crows, brick and statue-wielding trolls, massive fucking pigs––oh! So many beasts. And so many of them still would make a quick snack out of a little borrower like you if given half the chance, you imagine. A part of you considers sneaking into one of the homes, if only for the night, to take refuge from the Hunt. 

Somewhere behind you, you hear shouting and commotion. It sounds like fighting. Oh no, that is not something you want any part of. You hold your bag closer to yourself and prepare to run, but the noise quickly grows nearer and stills you. No, whoever’s fighting is too close, and the next hiding spot is too far. You have to wait for things to quiet down before you’re willing to risk moving. 

That is, until you hear a low, throaty growl. You whirl around, damn-near jumping out of your skin. The snarl of a grizzly, worse-for-wear dog meets you, its lips pulled back to show its mouthful of twisted teeth. Horror overwhelms you; you act before you can think and run, your legs carrying you as quickly as they can out into the street. The dog’s snarls and barks and thundering paws ring in your ears. There is no way you are going to outrun this thing! Oh, it’s going to snap you up in its horrible mouth and tear you apart and swallow you down while you’re still alive and–––! 

And you trip. 

You fall forward, and quickly flip yourself over to face the beast, arms held up in vain to shield your face. Eyes squeezed shut, you brace yourself for your final, painful moments. You hear the dog growl, and then–––

And then you hear the dog shriek, and fall bodily to the brick road. You peek out between your shaking arms, eyes wide, and see the beast on the ground, dead, with a massive saw . . . thing sticking out of its head. You blink, stunned, watching the filthy blood gush from the wound, but you don’t get long to process what’s just happened. A masked man stands over the dog, boot pressed into its back, and yanks the weapon from its corpse. Red flies from the blade, some of it splattering onto you. You must have squeaked or flinched too hard; the man’s head snaps towards you. He sees you. Your whole body shakes. He just . . . stares. 

You don’t know how long you two sit there staring at each other. The massive man’s dark garments are soaked and slicked with blood. His weapon is in a similar condition, dripping all over the soiled street. There’s something strange about him. You can’t see much of his face, but he doesn’t appear to be disfigured like the other beasts of the night. 

Maybe he isn’t a beast at all. 

“ Y-you . . . are you . . . a Hunter? ”  Your voice squeaks and shakes. You don’t think he’s heard you, but he nods his head after a moment more of staring. 

From behind him, there’s more commotion. You flinch. He looks over his shoulder, and then back at you. He doesn’t seem to be much for words, but he holds up his free hand, gesturing for you to wait. His weapon shifts with a loud snap, he pulls a firearm from his back, and then he runs off towards the noise. 

Whether you intend to or not, you do stay. Time doesn’t register; your mind goes into a haze, and the Hunter is back before you know it. His garments drip with fresh blood, very menacing. You’ve barely moved since meeting him, but you do shake yourself out of it when he crouches down before you. Scared and feeling very vulnerable, you try to scramble backwards, away from him.

“ Mr. Hunter, I––no, please––! ”  He holsters both his firearm and his blade, and reaches for you with one gloved hand. Your plea stills him for a moment, but doesn’t deter him fully; those fingers wrap around your middle and lift you from the ground. You squirm and try to pull yourself free, your tiny hands pushing at his thumb, but it’s all to no avail.  “ Please! I only want to get home! It-it isn’t safe out here! ”  

To your surprise, the Hunter’s grip loosens until he holds you cupped in both of his hands. You look to the wall of fingers behind you, then back up to the hunter’s masked face. There is no malice in his eyes that you can see. It looks more like concern, compassion, to you. He stands, effort clearly made to keep from jostling you, though it has limited success. You whimper and brace yourself against his palm, head ducked. 

“ I will keep you safe. ”  Hearing his voice makes you look up to him again, eyes wide. It’s gentle, whispered, more on the deeper side from what you can tell. Your first instinct is to say no, to reject his help and carry on through the beast-filled streets on your own, but it takes only a moment to rationalize how truly stupid of an idea that is. This man––this man here who holds your body and life in his hands––is a Hunter. He is the one thing right now that stands between you and the night’s monstrosities, and he is a Hunter of beasts. 

You curl up, bringing your knees to your chest, and bury your head into your arms. Okay. He is your best chance at survival. You . . . have to go with him. Face still hidden, you nod in slow agreement. He . . . whether he sought it or not, has your permission to guard you. 

His hands shift so you sit in his left, leaving his right free to pull the collar of his scarf. Of course: he’ll need both hands to continue his hunt. You still shiver, but you crawl to his fingertips as he brings you near to the opening and climb in. It isn’t the most comfortable or ideal of spots, but you settle yourself into the tough fabric, making a sort of hammock. At least it’s warm. The Hunter’s breathing and heart beat are loud, but the rhythm of it all is sort of soothing. He can’t see you well here, so you pat at his neck, telling him that you’re . . . well, you’re about as secure as you’re going to get. The Hunter nods in return, and pulls out his weapons, readying himself once more for the journey ahead. As soon as he starts to run, you lurch and scrabble for better purchase, realizing that this night is going to be long, bumpy, and likely blood-soaked. 

Oh Great Ones be with you, and may you survive to see tomorrow . . ..