#Laying off is considerably easier luckily

[bloodsoakeddoodles]

He’s only too happy to comply

[skiller0dani]

Sinful | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut | sub!spencer x bau!reader requests info summary | when spencer decides to let the witness flirt with him, you decide to have some fun of your own with derek. it becomes obvious that it's a mistake.

this was sitting in my drafts unedited!! I'm still trying to finish up Amortentia part 2 & the Ethan AU. They'll be up I promise, until then.. enjoy Sub!Spencer! This is my first real stab at a dom reader so I hope I did okay. I've read fics about face slapping as a kink and I just wanna let you guys know that I am not comfortable writing that so I probably never will include that.

Also I hate saliva so I probably wont write about spitting either. Sorry lololol

thanks @imagining-in-the-margins for the inspiration! (was totally inspired by "messy lessons" if you guys haven't read it...you should!)

At first you doubted he knew what he was even doing.

At first.

Maybe he wasn't trying to get in her pants, and maybe he wasn't trying to lead her on. But he was still letting her shamelessly flirt with him. You'd been with the FBI for years and made the silly mistake of assuming that working in the same department as your boyfriend would make things easier on you. Being able to see him everyday is a definite plus, seeing him in danger every time you're in the field is definitely not a plus. Watching a busty blonde witness flirt with him is certainly not a plus, especially when he lets her throw herself into his chest. Supposedly "distraught" but you see the cheeky smile peeking at the corner of her lips.

You see the thing about Spencer that nobody except for you knows, is that deep down he's a very naughty boy. The little mischievous glint in his eyes when his eyes meet yours from across the interrogation room proved that. You were professional however, so you were forced to stand by and watch him comfort her. Bitch.

"C-Could you get me some water?" Her voice was shaky, you still didn't buy it.

"Sure, Doctor-"

"Agent Y/L/N if you wouldn't mind?" Spencer's much more dominating voice cut through yours. Your eyebrows flew up as you shared a millisecond stare down with him. You could see the playful look in his eyes, flashed by the brattiest smile you'd ever seen grace his lips. Your lips stretched in a tight smile before you nodded and turned out of the room.

When JJ joined you near the kitchenette she opened her mouth to say something, but once she'd noticed you white knuckle gripping the faucet handle she changed her mind. She continued with whatever she was doing, not looking at you. It was a tense few minutes until she turned out of the room. While everyone in the BAU knew you and Spencer were together, it was easy for them to forget seeing as you never acted as a couple at work. For obvious reasons. Only in moments of danger, like when Spencer's helicopter went down and there were panicked tears streaming down your cheeks did they remember that you were in fact, together.

Apparently your usually good boy seems to have forgotten who he belongs to as well. The sight you returned to left tendrils of anger licking at the pit of your stomach.

"Oh really, that is so cool! I'll bet you're so strong!" The witness had perked up considerably since you'd left the room. Her hand reached up to curl at his bicep, and he didn't stop her. What a brat. Spencer sat next to her rather than across from her at the table, presumably to console her. Spencer beamed at her praise, an action you did not miss.

"Yeah, actually FBI agents are required to pass a variety of physical exams to insure they're physically healthy enough to chase down an unsub if need be-"

"Here's your water." Your voice was tense and you had to resist the urge to "accidentally" spill the water on her as you set the glass down. You didn't meet Spencer's eye as he stood to follow you out of the room. You could see the naughty façade fading as soon as he'd left the room.

"Y/N?" His voice was soft and his big brown eyes wide when you turned to glance at him. Your heart melted at the sight of those sad puppy dog eyes but you're not going to give in when baby boy broke so many rules.

"Shush." Is all you say, your voice sharp. You're not going to hide the fact that you're mad at him. And you're going to stay mad at him, no matter how cute he is.

"Yes ma'am." Spencer mumbles as he follows you towards the room Hotch is waiting in with the whiteboard. You try your hardest to focus on whatever Hotch is saying but all you can think about is that stupid witness pressing her chest up against Spencer, and the fact that he was practically bathing in the attention she gave him. You hated the fact that Spencer was getting exactly what he wants, he lives for your punishments. In a way, punishing him was also rewarding him but it was rewarding for you too.

After vaguely remembering Hotch asking for Spencer, you watched him scramble forward. You don't miss the fact that he nearly stops to ask for your permission to do so, you have him trained so well. A smile quirks at the corner of your mouth and you almost feel like forgiving him until Hotch speaks again.

"Reid, I want you to take Allison Calloway home..." he lists off where the rest of you will go but at that point you're no longer listening. You hear Hotch pair your name with Derek, which sparks a wicked idea in your head. He's having Spencer take the witness home? Is the world punishing you? You see Spencer steal one nervous glance at you before rushing to get Allison. You tongue your cheek before reluctantly following Derek out of the precinct.

//

You and Derek were apparently instructed by Hotch to go investigate the second crime scene, where a young man with his hands missing was found earlier this morning. You peek at Derek out of the corner of your eye, Derek is one of your close friends and he knows more than he should about yours and Spencer's...extracurricular activities. He seems to be in a good mood today, and he's unlikely to think anything of it. He'll definitely tell Spencer about it, which is sort of what you're hoping for. While this is hardly the place for you to "come on" to Derek, you're willing to do it. Spencer needs a taste of his own medicine.

"Odd, that the unsub removes the hands but repositions the watch around the victims ankle." Derek muses, his hand coming up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. Luckily the officers sent to patrol the crime scene are nowhere nearby. You circle Derek, trying to formulate the perfect sentence in your mind. It can't be too much, but definitely enough for him to inform Spencer. Derek is used to more lewd phrases coming from yours and Penelope's mouth, so surprising him enough to tattle to your boyfriend will be a challenge.

It can't be anything that would hurt Spencer however.

Derek views Spencer as his little brother and would never hurt him, and you wouldn't want to hurt Spencer either this is all in good filthy fun. It has to be a little risky, but not so risky that Derek would prefer keeping it from Spencer to protect him. If its too much Derek will approach you directly about it which would be humiliating and would entirely miss the point. This is a very delicate operation.

"Oh Derek, have you been working out?" You decide to take the easy route, adding a dash of sultry to your tone.

"Occasionally." Derek doesn't turn his head towards you, you haven't quite captured his attention yet.

"Firm is a good look on you." You tease, you'll need to ease him into it because he's going to have the wind knocked out of him when you finally lay it on him.

"Easy girly, you're venturing into dangerous territory." You hear the lilt to his tone letting you know that he's joking. You need to push it further.

"No I'm serious," you need to tread very carefully. You don't want to ruin a friendship you still want to keep, "it's a really good look on you."

Derek turns to you then, an eyebrow raised as he watches you trail your eyes down his body. While Derek isn't a bad looking guy, he doesn't even come close to comparing to your beautiful boy. Spencer is easily the cutest and sexiest man you've ever had the privilege of standing in the same room with.

"What's with you?" He asks, keeping the smile on his face so he doesn't alert you that he's concerned. You're on the right track but if you leave it here Derek will let it go. You need to drop that mini bomb on him, just a little more. You trail a finger down his shoulder, towards his bicep.

"Nothing, just admiring the view. The big, strong, sexy, view. What I wouldn't give to have you in bed Derek Morgan." There's the bomb. Your words have an immediate effect over him. The half-lidded sultry look in your eyes is enough for him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. Usually he can tell if you're joking but now he really can't tell. He's speechless, which doesn't happen to Derek Morgan very often.

"Y/N..."

"Call me if you wanna take me up on my offer." You send a wink at him before turning to head towards the black SUV. That should be enough for him to tattle.

//

When you return to the precinct, you watch with pleased eyes as Derek immediately pulls Spencer into a side room. Derek briefly glances at you, and you send him a smile but do not receive on in return. You don't think anything of it, Derek will get over it eventually with an explanation. You watch carefully as Derek begins to speak and an unreadable expression crosses onto Spencer's face, you expect he's just absorbing what Derek is telling him. Any minute now that look will cross onto his face, those dark eyes that warn you that you've officially annoyed him.

Derek keeps speaking, you can see his lips moving. What are they talking about? It shouldn't be taking this long. You're too far away to really make out their faces, so you subtly sneak closer when Spencer's eyes flash to meet yours and you gasp. There is no anger on his face, no playful annoyance, instead you see pain. Hurt. Betrayal. Derek tries to reach out to grab Spencer but the door to that side room opens and Spencer comes rushing out of it. Not bothering a side glance at you as he makes his hasty exit.

"I was only kidding." You explain quickly as Derek emerges. He doesn't look amused.

"It was too far Y/N. He's crushed." Derek snaps, brushing past you. Immediately you turn and exit the precinct, quickly finding Spencer tucked away in a secluded corner. He's sitting against the building, his head tucked into his knees and the absolute worst part is the fact that he's softly crying. You kneel in front of him in an instant, although you're not sure what to even say.

"Oh baby boy, I was only kidding. I didn't mean it, I said it because you flirted with that blonde witness!" You explain in a hurry, trying to reach out to take him in your arms. Spencer resists, instead lifting his head to look at you. His eyes are glossy and red rimmed, "kidding?"

"Yes precious, I was kidding."

"But Derek is more...attractive then I am." Spencer whimpers softly. You reach forward to firmly grasp Spencer's chin, ensuring he looks at you.

"Spencer Walter Reid you look at me," You order, and hesitantly Spencer lifts his watery eyes to meet yours. "There is not a single person who is more attractive then you are, you are flawless."

"But deep down you want Derek-"

"I was kidding Spencer. I only want you, my good boy." You purr, and you see a shiver run down his spine. You lean forward to press your lips to his before your thumbs come up to swipe away your tears.

"I'm not a good boy, I don't deserve it." Spencer whimpers once you help him stand up. Even though you're looking up at him, it's still very clear that you're the one in charge. "I flirted with Allison."

"You're right, you haven't been very good have you? I'm sure you'll make it up to me in the hotel room." You smile pressing a kiss to his flushed cheek. He nods immediately, it warms your heart.

"I love you." Spencer whispers after he catches your hand as you're about to open the door. You press a kiss to his palm, "I love you precious."

//

You could feel the nerves rolling off of him when you opened the door to your shared hotel room. The door shut with a soft click as you kicked off your shoes. Spencer remained at the hotel room door curled in on himself and wringing his hands together. You have to hide the smile as you shed your jacket from your shoulders, beginning to reach for your jeans when you pause. You take a seat on the bed, watching Spencer eye you carefully from his spot by the door.

"Come here." There isn't a question in your tone, it's more of an order. An order Spencer hastily obeys as he scrambles to stand before you.

"Undress me." You instruct, and Spencer kneels immediately to grab at the hem of your shirt. He carefully lifts the fabric off your body and tosses it aside before reaching around your body to unclip your bra. "No touching baby boy, you were naughty remember?" You snapped, and you saw him turn his head down in shame before turning his attention towards your pants. He unbuttons your jeans and helps pull them down your legs. Spencer's breath gets caught in his throat when his eyes land on your clothed pussy.

"Like what you see precious? Maybe if you were a good boy and didn't let that woman run her hands all over you, maybe I'd let you touch." You purr watching the disdain in his eyes when he realizes what his punishment is going to be.

"Tell me the truth baby boy, did you let her touch you in the car?"

He nods, but that's not good enough for you. You reach down to roughly palm him through his slacks.

"I said did you let her touch you?" You punctuate every word with a gentle squeeze around his cock. Finally, Spencer seems to find his voice.

"Y-Yes!"

"Where? Show me where she marked what's mine." You hiss, not even attempting to disguise your frustration. Spencer lifts one hand to his chest and trails it down his stomach, dangerously close to the hem of his pants before thankfully he stops.

"You let her touch you, this close to your cock?" You snap, tearing your hand away from him.

"I-I'm sorry!" He stammers, his eyes wide and his hands resting on the tops of his thighs. Boy does he look pretty on his knees before you. Not pretty enough for mercy however. There's a pleading look in his eyes, and a desperation. A desperation to please you.

"Make it up to me." You snap and as soon as the words leave your lips, Spencer's fingers are curling around the waistband of your underwear and tearing them off your body.

"Y-Yes ma'am." You lean back on your elbows as Spencer lowers his head between your legs, his eyes flickering to yours briefly. With a nod of your head, Spencer is delving between your legs with the enthusiasm of sex deprived teenager. Your head tosses back immediately as you feel his tongue licking thick stripes over your entrance. He continues to lap at you, his tongue teasing your entrance before he returns to his heavy licking. You moan softly, your fingers digging into his curls and pulling his head closer.

"Just like that, you're being such a good boy." You praise through breathy moans, and Spencer can feel his chest swell with pride. He loves being your good boy. But he isn't your baby boy all the time, sometimes, with a bit of coaxing, he becomes daddy. Spencer reaches up to prod a finger at your entrance before he's sinking in knuckle deep, his mouth curling around your clit. Spencer pumps on finger, to stretch you a little before slowly working a second finger into your suffocatingly tight heat.

"Yes Spencer, don't stop." You beg, feeling yourself climbing closer to reaching the peak, especially when his tongue flicks expertly against your clit while his fingers pump steadily into you. "Oh God, my good boy-" You praise again, and this time Spencer moans against you. Your toes curl as the vibrations send a course of pleasure through you, you've got to make him do that again.

"Do you like being my good boy Spencer? My good, obedient boy. So eager to please me, to make me feel good. And you do, you make me feel so good because you're such a good, good, boy." Your heavy praise causes Spencer to release a low groan, and the feeling is enough to launch you over the edge. Spencer keeps pumping is fingers into you, his tongue swirling soft circles over your clit to help you through your orgasm. Once your body has stopped jerking, you finally pull him off you.

"I forgive you precious, but unfortunately I still have to punish you." You inform him as you pull him back up to his feet. You hear him whine as you push his chest to lay him back against the bed.

"Do you have to?"

"Are you talking back to me baby boy?"

"N-No!" He squeaks instantly, his cheeks painted red. You stand over him, laying beneath you and you can't fight the soft moan that escapes your lips upon seeing him. His hair is disheveled from you raking your fingers through his, his brown eyes are wide and innocent as he looks up at you, and his cheeks are dusted such a beautiful shade of pink.

"Take off your clothes precious, I want to see all of you." You instruct, and you love the shy look on his face as he reaches up to remove his shirt. You let your eyes shamelessly roam his body as he slowly exposes more skin to you. Despite having been together for a few years now, Spencer is still incredibly insecure. Deep down he's worried you'll grow tired of him. Worried that you'll seek out other men despite being with him. Spencer is worried he's not enough to keep you interested. Which is wildly untrue, it's already been over 3 years and if anything you become more interested as time goes on.

"So beautiful baby boy, your body is a work of art." You breathe under your breath. Spencer blushes even deeper then he was before as he nervously fidgets underneath. You swing your legs on either side of his waist, your palms on the bed next to his head. "Your punishment, precious boy," your hands drift to his that are resting on your hips, "is that you can't touch me." You finish, moving his hands to the bed.

Spencer's eyes widen as his head drops back. A whine escapes his lips, but like a good boy, he grasps tightly at the sheets. You reach between your bodies to grasp his cock, pressing the head against your entrance before you teasingly lower onto him. Spencer's eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of your velvety walls around him- it's almost too much for the poor boy. It doesn't help that it's been a few weeks since you two last had sex, meaning you're tighter then you normally are. In fact you're so tight that Spencer can't even breathe properly while he's stretching you open.

"Oh baby boy, you feel absolutely wonderful. Your cock stretches me open so good." You purr, your hands landing on his chest for leverage so you can bounce on him faster. Spencer whimpers softly, the feeling is overwhelming, you can tell he's struggling to contain himself. Your hair drifts down your back when you throw your head back, his cock hitting places deep inside you.

"Getting close," You moan and Spencer knows that's his cue to reach down and begin rubbing circles over your clit. As soon as his thumb makes contact you're moaning loudly, your free hand digging into his hair to hold onto tightly. "Yes Spencer, yes." The phrase becomes a chant you repeat in your head over and over again. Spencer continues to rub you, desperate to help you find your release. When you slam down on him again, his cock hits the place deep inside you that makes your toes curl. You cum instantaneously, your body nearly falling top of Spencer's from the sheer force of it. Spencer's arms come up to steady you, offering shallow thrusts into you to chase his own release.

"Y/N...c-can I?" His voice is wrought, and you smile weakly.

"Yes precious, you can cum." As soon as you give him permission, he's cumming in hot gushes into you, his face buried in your neck. You run your hand down his back as his heart rate slows back to normal, and Spencer's arms stay curled around your waist.

"Spence?"

"Hm?" You can hear the lazy drawl in his voice that lets you know he's getting very sleepy.

"Don't ever break my rules again, or your punishment will be much worse."

"Yes ma'am." You press a kiss to his lips before pulling off him, and curling yourself into his side.

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 9 – Making it Official

Chapter 1     Chapter 8

“What the fuck is with all the stunts?” Red Hood griped, landing his punch on the fourth of Scarecrow’s henchmen in the last minute.  Luckily, this area of the hospital gave them enough room to maneuver.  Unluckily, the pharmacy where the rest of Scarecrow’s henchmen were barricaded had entirely glass walls.  Good to get in.  Bad for stealth.  The henchmen inside knew they were coming, but then again so did the hostages.

“What do you mean?” Nightwing asked innocently landing his triple flip on top of a henchman and using his momentum to swing into the man next to him, knocking him out as well.  He bounced from that to spin into a punch, the velocity from the spin adding force behind the punch, making it powerful enough to break the henchman’s jaw. He surreptitiously glanced at the hostages before ducking the haymaker thrown by another henchman.

“He means you’re being extremely extra right now.  Wait… oh my God!  Which one is she?” Signal exclaimed, excitedly searching the hostages while he kicked one henchman in the chest hard enough to send them into a far wall, dodging another’s punch to punch him back in his unprotected side.

“The baby mama is in there?” Red Hood cut in.  “Which one is she?”

“Hood!  Not having this conversation right now,” Nightwing reprimanded sternly.

“Oh, calm down.  All these guys are out,” Hood dismissed him.

“But the extensive amounts of surveillance cameras are not,” Nightwing hissed out.

Red Hood rolled his eyes. “Oracle?”

“On it.  Five seconds of video gone,” Oracle’s voice sounded over the coms.

“Thank you,” Nightwing sighed.

“Okay, now that that’s taken care of, let’s go save your baby mama,” Signal responded with a grin before jumping through the window at the far side of the room, as far away from the hostages as possible, tackling two of the henchmen in the process.

“Back away or I start shooting with this one,” the lead henchman growled, holding a gun to Marinette’s head.

Nightwing froze.  His eyes widened in panic.  Red Hood and Signal took note of Nightwing’s response and quickly turned from laidback to tense.  “Alright, calm down.  Think about this.  You shoot her, I shoot you,” Red Hood snarled.  “Only I won’t kill you right away.  I’ll do it slow and painfully.  One shot at a time in the most pain inducing spots possible.  Believe me when I say I know all of them.”  The henchman looked over to the other vigilantes discretely. “They won’t stop me.  I promise you.”

Signal nodded slightly to show his agreement without taking his eyes off the other five henchmen in the room.  Three of which were standing in front of the other hostages.  The other two were shoveling the last of the drugs they came for in their bags.

The lead henchman narrowed his eyes and pushed the gun harder against Marinette’s temple.  She swallowed a whimper of pain, refusing to give him that satisfaction.  “Sounds like she’s important to you then.  So it seems like as long as I have her, I have my escape,” he jeered back at Hood.

Hood growled in response, but made no move to get closer.  Marinette’s mind was reeling.  This was now a standoff and she was the keystone.  Someone had to do something.  Maybe if they could get away from the other hostages she could do something… she just needed to figure out a plan, which would be significantly easier if she was familiar with the bats and how they usually thought and acted.  She would use her nausea to throw up on him if she didn’t think he would just shoot her for it.

“Boys, grab a hostage and let’s go,” the lead hostage commanded.

Damn it!  She no longer had time.  She needed to act.  Some of those hostages wouldn’t be able to move and there were children in the group. She stuffed down her fear.  She felt nothing.  She was empty.  Except she wasn’t she had a baby now, she wasn’t just risking herself, she was risking the baby too so she couldn’t just fight and take the attention all onto herself. She needed a diversion.  She sent a furtive look to her purse on the far side of the pharmacy and made eye contact with Tikki.  She gave a slow nod and watched Tikki fly off to one of the racks of drugs.  She tensed in anticipation.  

She waited for the sound of whatever she was going to do and acted as soon as she heard it.  She only spared a second to note a rack of drugs falling over taking out one of the henchmen.  Having expected it, she recovered considerably quicker than the rest of the people in the room.  She used the lead henchman’s momentary lack of attention to grab the hand holding the gun against her head and push it past her head while twisting under his arm to shove him toward the vigilantes.  She yanked the gun out of his hand as she shoved him.

She took a second to take stock of the situation.  Four henchmen left.  All had dropped their bags of drugs to focus on getting out alive.  Two headed for the vigilantes.  One headed for the henchman under the rack, must be a friend or relative, she thought vaguely.  It was the fourth that concerned her though.  He was heading for the little girl tucked into her father’s side, probably still seeking a hostage to get away safely.  She turned the safety on the gun, or at least that’s what she hoped she did, and threw it at his head as hard as she could.  

The gun made contact, offsetting his balance.  He struggled to recover and Marinette slid into his legs in a heroically miscalculated gesture.  He fell back instead of forward and landing with his legs on Marinette.  She had enough time to curl into a ball protecting her stomach before he kicked her in anger, the impact pushed all the air out of her lungs.  She felt the pain radiate throughout her back.

“You fucking bitc…” he never got the chance to finish his insult.  Nightwing’s hand was on his throat lifting him up and away from her in an instant.  Marinette looked up in awe for a moment and scrambled back over to the other hostages to make sure they were okay.  Within a few minutes, the room was flooded with police and the henchmen had been hauled away and were getting put into police transports while the hostages were brought out into the atrium of the hospital to wait to give their statements.

Red Hood helped Marinette up gently and personally guided her out to the atrium after all the other hostages had been led out.  “Thanks for the help back there.  Impressive job keeping calm and taking advantage of the distraction.”

Marinette hummed. “Thank you guys for saving us. You were very intimidating.”

Jason hummed back. “Yeah, I’m good for that.  I’m the bad boy of the bat boy band.  Now, interesting use of a gun and all, and I’m really glad it worked, but why, and I can’t stress this enough, the fuck didn’t you just shoot him?” Hood asked bemused.

“I’ve never fired a gun. He was between me and the hostages.  If I missed, I might have hit one of the hostages.  I’m better at throwing.  I knew I wouldn’t miss if I threw it,” she shrugged, still catching her breath.  “If I couldn’t get to him after the hit, I knew one of you would.”

Red Hood nodded in contemplation.  “Solid reasoning.  I’ll go with that.  Remind me to teach you to shoot someday.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.  Next time I see you, we’ll set it up,” she said dismissively and let out a strained chuckle.  

Red Hood grinned.  “I’m going to hold you to that.”

Marinette nodded slightly, her face took on a look of concentration and she started breathing deeply again.

“Woah, wait.  That’s her?” Duke exclaimed, peeking around the corner to take a look.  “Damn, you did good.”  He repositioned so he could properly size her up without being too obvious.  At which point, she promptly turned to a trash can and threw up.  He wrinkled his nose in disgust.  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.”

“She has really bad morning sickness.  Shut it.” Nightwing growled, handing off the last henchman to the police.  

“And that’s why I’m going to pretend like I didn’t see that,” Signal explained like he was explaining to a child.

Nightwing huffed at him and quickly moved over to check on Marinette.  He reached out to rub her back like he would normally, but pulled his arms back at the last second.  That was too familiar for him right now and she might not appreciate a stranger touching her.  Plus he didn’t know how hard the guy had hit her.  Her back might be bruised for a while.  He would have to check it out later.  “Are you alright, miss?”

“Miss,” Red Hood mocked him quietly, but made sure the coms could catch it as he followed the police cars taking the henchmen they had captured to prison.

Nightwing looked up to glare in his direction but didn’t respond.  “It’s okay.  I’m not contagious.  I’m just pregnant.”  She waved his concern away before moving toward a bench to sit.  

Nightwing helped her sit with a charming smile.  “Congratulations.  I’m sure you and your boyfriend are very excited.  But, are you alright after being held captive?  How is your back?”  His voice got nervous seeing her react by cocking her head to the side for a second before frowning and turning away.  “…Are you not?” he asked carefully.

“Hm?” she hummed in question. She looked back up at him with a confused scowl before the realization spread across her face.  “Oh!  No, yes. Yes I’m fine, or will be and I think I’ll just have bruises, nothing broken and we’re very excited.”  She gently laid her hand on her belly.  “I just realized I don’t know what we are.  We haven’t had that discussion.  Ugh.  I need to lay down for a second.  Excuse me.” She walked herself back down until she was lying flat on the bench with her eyes closed and breathing deeply.

“Of course, sorry miss,” Nightwing responded awkwardly.  He just realized he thought of her as his girlfriend, but they hadn’t discussed their relationship at all.  They knew they wanted to parent together, but not how they wanted their relationship to go or where they were.  He was fine with letting the relationship progress naturally without titles, but she might want something more concrete.

“It’s okay.  At least this suffering is productive.  I’m going to get something amazing out of it.” She offered him a weak smile without opening her eyes and returned to breathing deeply.  

He smiled gently and answered quietly.  “That’s a good way to think about it.”  He wanted to brush her hair out of her eyes and kiss her, but he reminded himself he couldn’t.  He backed off to check on the other victims, glancing back to her every few minutes. She had finally sat back up and her eyes were now open, but that hurt more.  Instead of the bright, hopeful eyes he was used to, they now looked pained.

He wanted to hold her so badly it physically hurt to hold back.  But he couldn’t do anything, not right now, not like this.  He wasn’t her boyfriend right now.  He wasn’t Dick Grayson, he was Nightwing, who she’d only just met.  The distance grated on him.  It burned his chest.  He needed to leave.  He wouldn’t be able to stay this close to her for much longer without hugging her and comforting her.  If his eyes caught on her unsettled, worried eyes one more time, he was going to slip.

He clenched his fists and set his jaw.  He had to act now.  He looked over to Signal, catching his eye and nodding to him.  Signal nodded back in understanding.  Nightwing snuck out past the police and grappled a few buildings away.  He tucked himself behind a half wall and changed back into his civilian clothes. “Hood can you please grab my stuff on your way back?” he called over the coms.

“What am I?  Your errand boy?” He groused.

“Please, Hood.”  The vulnerability in his voice was so potent, Hood felt guilty teasing him any further.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed.

“Thank you,” he called as he ran back to the hospital.  “Marinette!” Dick yelled pushing his way through the people standing around waiting for the police to take their statements and let them leave.

“Dick!” Marinette leapt up from her seat and ran to him, jumping into his arms.

Dick held her tightly, cradling her in his arms and stroking her hair.  He’d known she was fine.  He had just been there not a few minutes before speaking with her about her and the baby.  He knew she was fine, but holding her in his arms was different.  He hadn’t realized how fast his heart had been pounding until it started returning to a normal pace with her in his arms.

“How did you know?” she mumbled into his neck.

“You had an appointment here a little bit ago and weren’t answering your phone,” Dick explained, pulling away to check her over.  He needed to see for himself she was okay.  He patted down her arms and legs and ran his hands over her chest and belly, reassuring himself she was fine before he finally let out the breath he had been holding.

“If you wanted to feel me up, I’m sure we could find an empty office,” she smirked at him.  

He spluttered a bit and blushed.  “I wanted to see for myself that you were okay.”  He pulled her back into his arms and buried his head in her neck, breathing in her scent.  He kept her in his arms for a few minutes before speaking again.  “I’m going to have to give a new answer for my favorite hero from now on,” he chuckled.

Marinette froze and pulled away, fear evident in her eyes.  “What?”

“After your heroics earlier. I have a new hero.”  He looked at her with mock awe.  She rolled her eyes and pushed his face away, but stayed firmly in his arms, still too dazed to think about what he had said.  “You’ve met the Gotham heroes now.  Ready to change your favorite?”

“I did mention the very many times Chat saved my life, right?” She reminded him with a strained voice, playing along with the attempt to lighten the atmosphere, but only just.

“But Nightwing saved your baby.  Chat can’t say that,” Dick pointed out with a grin, playing up the joke, but it had the opposite effect.  Both of their faces went slack at the comment.  She launched herself deeper into his arms as tears started falling.  He tightened his arms around her.  “I was so worried about you.”  He pulled away just far enough to cup her face and stare in her eyes.  “I was scared I wouldn’t get to see you again or you’d get hurt or lose the baby.  What were you thinking?”  

“I… I was thinking once they took them hostage, someone was going to die, maybe all of us.  I was thinking there were people who couldn’t move well no matter how much they were threatened or hit.  The henchmen weren’t going to put up with that.  And there were kids that could be easy hostages.  I couldn’t let them take them.  I had to do something.  There was an opportunity to do something and I could.  Someone had to.  The bats couldn’t without me getting hurt so it had to be me.”

Dick’s heart clenched tighter.  He understood that motivation.  They all did. That was one of the reasons they did what they did.  They couldn’t just not help if they had the ability to do so.  And he understood why it had to be her.  But at the same time, he couldn’t watch her in danger like that. His heart stopped when the henchman she hit turned to attack her.  And when the man had a gun to her head…  He laid his forehead on hers and squeezed his eyes shut.  All the panic and fear he had pushed down in order to function came to the surface and the tears started falling.  “Please don’t… please don’t do that again.  I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, either one of you.”

“Hey, hey,” she wiped away her tears to gently bring his face up to hers and give him a hopefully convincing calm look.  “It’s okay. I’m okay.  Nightwing and Signal and Red Hood were here to protect me.  I mean, how could things go wrong?”

Dick’s face fell and he held her closer because he knew exactly how it could have gone wrong. All the many ways it could have gone wrong.  He’d already envisioned all of them, every unlikely, preposterous, ridiculous way it could have gone wrong, he’d pictured it.  “Marinette, stay with me tonight.  Just to cuddle.  Just so I can know you’re okay.” He rushed to add anticipating her reaction.  “I just… I want to know you’re okay.  Just so I can feel you in my arms.  If it’s too much…”

“Okay,” she interrupted, brushing his face with gentle fingers.

“Okay?”

The hopeful look in his eyes just about broke her heart.  She didn’t think she could deny him anything when he looked at her like that.  “Okay,” she confirmed.  “I’m still a bit shaken too.  I’d like to spend the night knowing you were right there with me, protecting me.”

He crashed his lips into hers and God, he wanted to deepen it.  He wanted to taste her, but he knew he couldn’t yet, not with her nausea as bad as it was.  He settled for gently biting her bottom lip and pulling on it.  She groaned into it.  He could feel her falter like she was holding herself back from more as well. He broke the kiss instead before either of them could do something that would make her sick.

He pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers.  “Okay, let’s get you home then.  Maybe we can pick up a snack for you on the way.  You hungry?”  When she nodded, he stood up and guided her out of the hospital.  “Commissioner Gordon?”  He waited for the man to respond before continuing.  “I’m going to take my girlfriend home now.  She’s in no state to give a statement right now.”

Commissioner Gordon raised an eyebrow.  “She looks fine to me.”

“She just threw up and she’s getting weaker.”  Dick motioned to the trash can she had used earlier.

“Sounds like she should stay in the hospital then and get checked out,” he commented critically.

“They can’t really do much more for morning sickness than we can at home,” Dick answered quietly.

Commissioner Gordon’s eyes bulged out and he looked down to her stomach and back up.  “Ah.  Okay. Make sure my officers have your information before you leave.  And congratulations to both of you.”

Marinette smiled weakly at him but Dick gave him a wide grin.  “Thank you.  We greatly appreciate it.  And we aren’t telling people yet, for obvious reasons so if you can keep it under wraps, I’d appreciate it.”  Commissioner Gordon nodded and waved them away.

They stopped to speak with an officer on their way out to make their way to a bakery nearby before heading to Dick’s car.  As soon as they were out of earshot of the people around Marinette finally spoke up. “So… girlfriend?”

Dick grinned down at her. “I was hoping so anyway.”  He stopped and cupped her face again so their eyes could meet.  “Marinette, I’m already picturing my life with you.  I already know I want you there in my life, which I realize is crazy because it’s so fast.  At the same time I know girlfriend doesn’t sound like much considering… everything…”

“Yes!”  Marinette kissed him again.  “That sounds perfect for where we are.  And… I’m already picturing my future with you and the baby too. I like those daydreams.”  She wrapped her arms around his neck with a tired look.  “Now how far exactly is this bakery?  I’d really like to just get back to your place and curl up on the couch with my boyfriend and some delivery and watch a terrible movie.”

He smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, encouraging her to cuddle into his side and led her into the bakery they were standing outside of.  “That sounds like a perfect night with my girlfriend.”

“Hey, Marinette’s boyfriend, next time you’re going to be disgustingly cutesy, turn your coms off,” Jason grumbled into the coms.  “We don’t need more people in the family throwing up.”

Chapter 10

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123

[bucketslutz]

Godspeed

Summary: You've been working as Marcus Moreno's assistant for years, but during all this time you've also been hopelessly in love with him. You're unsure if he feels the same way, but as of late you've been catching him stare at you. He's said things that have seemed to have an ulterior definition and it's made you suspicious of his feelings. When a pipe bursts in your apartment, leaving your home unlivable while it's being renovated, Marcus invites you to stay with him and Missy till it's fixed. Will you fold and finally confess your feelings for him?

You can read Godspeed on AO3 here.

Warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, Marcus takes reader’s v-card, fluff, domestic-ish, AFAB reader, bisexual reader.

If Marcus was good at one thing, it was making your job a million times harder than it needed to be. He didn’t do it on purpose, he just tended to be more forgetful than you’d expected someone of his reputation to be. Whether it’d be meetings with the Heroics, grocery shopping, or even Missy’s parent teacher conferences, everything always managed to slip his mind. You suppose it is your job to keep track of all these things for him, remind him, and make sure he stays on top of all of his responsibilities. When he hired you, you were still a junior in college and his wife had passed away only a year prior. You didn’t expect that you’d be using your BA in international relations to be babysitting a grown man, but you don’t mind. He pays you substantially and he’s taught you so much over the years. You’re thankful that he even considered you for the job, the leader of the Heroics, when you’re far from interesting yourself. But he’s always been so kind and patient with you. Your first day you were fumbling over everything; you spilled coffee on his white button up, you accidentally packed Missy a peanut butter sandwich in her school lunch when she has a severe peanut allergy (luckily Marcus had glanced inside the unzipped lunchbox and swiftly threw it away), and you forgot to go grocery shopping that day. You hid inside the half bath off of the living room and cried from the stress, feeling like an absolute and complete fuck-up. Marcus knocked ever-so-gently on the door and you choked out a measly “I’m fine. Be out soon,” as a response. He didn’t buy it, obviously as he heard your sniffling from down the hall, and opened the door with a concerned look on his face. You were sitting on the floor, absolutely spent from the emotionally exhausting day. He got down with you and comforted you, talked you down from the breakdown and explained that he knew his schedule will take some time to get used to, but you’re a capable and strong individual who will catch on quickly.

“Cariña, I’m not disappointed in you. Mistakes will happen, you’ve gotta break a few eggs sometimes to make an omelette,” he told you with a wink, which caused you to snort at his very dad-ish remark; at that point, you had already forgotten about all the things you screwed up that day and was ready to start fresh tomorrow. And he was right, you caught on quickly. He’d begun saying a million times how life has seemed to have gotten easier since you entered it. You could’ve sworn there was a glint of something behind his eyes when he’d say it, maybe admiration, respect, perhaps even love. But you’d brush it off with a modest smile, trying to soften the weight of his words by saying you’re just doing what you’re being paid to do. He’d shake his head, trying his best to make you understand how much you’ve impacted his life. But you’re not used to someone insisting you deserve more respect than you give yourself, and Marcus showers you in praise every single day. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the compliments flattering, especially coming from someone like him. You’ve always found him very attractive, even before you started working for him. A lot of your friends in college would tease you about it, not finding him nearly as charismatic as Miracle Guy, but you stuck to your guns. You’d hoped that when you met him you wouldn’t be disappointed, praying that he was just as kind in person as he appeared to be on the news. But now that you know him, he’s more than kind...he’s considerate, caring, patient, and a wonderful father. You’re beyond lucky to have met someone like him. He’s changed your life for the better, and you’ll never stop being grateful for his generosity. He makes it too easy to fall in love with him; his warm smile, chocolate brown eyes, his dad jokes. You even love the parts of him that wouldn’t necessarily be that interesting to anyone else, yet they are to you; the way he eats sandwiches by nibbling all the crust off of the sides then working his way to the middle in a circular pattern, or the way he hates to make his bed because he’s “just going to get back in it at the end of the day anyways,” or how he sometimes takes a minute to get a joke in a movie or TV show and will laugh for way longer than he needs to. You’ve been hopelessly in love with him for years now, and it’s made your job uncomfortable from time to time. 

Once he started going back in the field, he’d come back to his house in immense pain every day. And for a little while, you just gave him some advil and a heating pad to leave him to his devices. But the pain and discomfort got worse, and he suggested a massage would relieve the pain. Which of course it would, and you should have no problem doing that for him. He wasn’t even necessarily asking you, he just said that a massage would feel better and he should go get one. But you still took it upon yourself to give him one anyways, perhaps as an excuse to touch him, but you care about him and you wanted him to feel better. He protested, of course, not wanting to inconvenience you, but he ultimately succumbed when you straddled his back and began rubbing his sore muscles. You did everything in your power to not seem as turned on by his groans of pleasure as you were; trying to hide the way your breath hitched when he choked out a “Yes, right there. Perfect,” between his shallow grunts. He had you in the palm of his hand, and he didn’t even know it. Your best friend has been telling you to make a move for months, but you’re too shy, and you’re not even sure if he feels the same way. He could very well want all of his assistants to stay for dinner, or movie night, or offer to let you stay in the guest bedroom when a pipe burst in your apartment leaking water all over your living room. You didn’t want to accept at first, feeling like you’d be overstepping, but Marcus insisted. He said he and Missy didn’t mind, especially considering you were way better at cooking meals than he was. You finally accepted the offer, figuring it’d also be way easier to work when you’re in closer quarters. You’d be cutting out commute time, and you wouldn’t have to get up so early to get there in time to make breakfast before Missy leaves for school. And you do love sleeping. So you accepted, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like you’ll confess your love for him while you’re staying over; so long as you stay away from the alcohol.

You knock gently on Marcus’ bedroom door and call out his name softly, coffee cup and newspaper in hand. You hear a muffled groan in response, and take that as your cue to enter. Cracking the door open, you see him laying on his stomach tangled up in his sheets with a pillow covering his head. He hated mornings.

“Marcus, it’s time to get up. You have a meeting this morning,” you coo as you enter his bedroom. He rolls over and pulls his head out from under his pillow, sporting the worst bedhead you’ve seen on him yet; you bite back a laugh.

“It’s early,” he grumbles, obviously very groggy from his slumber. You settle on the edge of the bed, offering him the cup of coffee to which he sits up and takes the mug from you eagerly.

“You didn’t see me complaining about the hour when I had to get up at 4 am and bust my ass here every morning, just so I could make breakfast for you and your daughter,” you snide playfully. You don’t resent him for that, and he knows that. He works hard and has a lot on his plate, and he knows you understand that. But it’s become almost like a running joke between the two of you that he can’t complain because “you have it harder.”

“Touché,” he says, pausing to say your name, “Touché.” He takes a few sips of his coffee and holds his hand out for the newspaper, which you then hand to him. He takes a quick sip, contentedly. “Mm, why is it whenever I make coffee it takes like dirty socks, but when you do it, it tastes like heaven. Are you hiding a fancy coffee maker here that I don’t know about?”

“Hm, don’t know. Maybe I’m magic,” you remark jovially, smiling warmly at him. His eyes lock onto yours for a moment and he returns the smile.

“Yeah, something about you sure is magic,” he says, that familiar glint of... something in his eyes. Then he gets up from under his covers and pats your leg with the newspaper as he exits his bedroom, leaving you feeling strange after that encounter. Not a bad strange, you just sensed there was an air of something hanging around him. You’ve been feeling that a lot with him for a while. He’s just said or done things that hinted at meaning more than what it was, but you’ve been trying to brush it off as you looking for something that wasn’t there. You stood up from his bed, tidying up his covers a little so they no longer looked like someone just rolled out of them. You shook your head at the sight of some of his dirty clothes scattered all over the floor and took it upon yourself to pick them up and toss them in his hamper for you to wash later this afternoon. Making your way downstairs, you can hear Marcus shuffling around in the kitchen, humming the chorus of Raspberry Beret by Prince. Another thing you loved about him, he was always humming something around the house, to Missy’s dismay, but you never got tired of it. It warmed your heart to see him so happy. While you didn’t know him before the passing of his wife, you could tell that it still brought him down sometimes when you first started working for him. He’d come home late from work, immediately go to the liquor cabinet, and lock himself in his office for the rest of the night. A year or so ago he finally went through her old things with you and got rid of a lot of stuff. He kept a lot of her belongings, mostly for Missy, but was finally ready to throw a lot of her things away. So the times when you hear him singing absentmindedly, it reminds you that he’s healing and it makes you happy to finally see that after so many years of grief. Entering the kitchen, you cross over to the island and finish plating Marcus’ and Missy’s pancakes; Marcus was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and sipping on his coffee. You set his plate in front of him and he glances up at you, smiling brightly.

“Thanks, these look great. Do these have bananas in them?” he asks excitedly.

“Yep, of course,” you reply with a grin, running your hand over his shoulder before turning back to cross over to the island. You know full well his favorite breakfast is banana pancakes, so you make them for him whenever he has to get up extra early for meetings.

“You know me too well,” he teases, spreading a glob of softened butter on the top of his pancake. You hear footsteps descending the staircase rapidly and the appearance of Missy in the kitchen shortly thereafter, dressed and ready for school.

“Hi dad!” she greets her father, then you, and settles in her chair at the kitchen table. You set her plate of pancakes in front of her along with a small plate of bacon. Marcus glances at you, then the bacon, then back at you, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Why does she get bacon and I get fruit?” he whines, through a mouthful of pancake.

“Because you’re susceptible to heartburn, Missy is not,” you tell him, smacking his hand as he reaches for one of her slices. Missy sticks her tongue out at her father, teasing him as she munches on her bacon. “Quit your whining, Moreno. Fruit is good for you.”

“Outnumbered and outwitted,” he remarks dejectedly, poking at the fruit on his plate. You roll your eyes at his dramatics and finish plating your own breakfast, with extra pieces of the assorted fruits that you especially love. You catch Marcus’ gaze lingering on you for longer than what would be considered “a passing glance.” Once you lock eyes with him, he turns his head back to his newspaper immediately pretending he wasn’t just staring at you. Okay, you can safely say now that he’s officially been acting weird. You don’t have the energy nor the time right now to address his behavior, so you opt to join him and Missy at the table and silently finish your breakfast before you have to drive Missy to school.

…

  These chores have been kicking your ass today. You were too preoccupied with the burst pipe in your apartment last week that you weren’t able to do the laundry, so now you’re gifted with two weeks worth of laundry to wash, dry, iron, fold, and put away. It’s almost the end of the work day and you just finished folding the last load. You huff as you haul the basket up the stairs and down the hall to Marcus’ bedroom. You hum absentmindedly as you put his clothes away, tuning out your surroundings as your music blasts through your earbuds. This is the only part of laundry you really like. Firstly, because it’s the easiest part, and secondly because you get to listen to your music in peace without anyone bothering you. Being in the house alone means you can scream/sing the lyrics to your favorite songs without Marcus or Missy making fun of you. Except you didn’t realize you weren’t home alone right now, because Marcus has been watching you, leaning against the threshold of his bedroom door. You stopped dead in your tracks and startled when you noticed his presence. Clutching your chest with your hand you laugh out of embarrassment.

“Marcus, what the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” you ask, frustrated that he just completely ruined your vibe.

“I like hearing you sing. I’ve got my own concert right here in the comfort of my own home,” he half teases, half remarks flirtily at you. He’s staring you up and down, as if you were a sight for sore eyes in your ripped mom jeans and bleach dyed t-shirt. Your hair was lazily thrown up into a messy bun for convenience, some strands hanging around your face to frame it. 

“Whatcha listening to?” he asks, crossing towards you.

“Um, Godspeed, by Frank Ocean. You wouldn’t know him, as his career exists post-Prince and Queen, grandpa,” you joke playfully. He shakes his head and rests his hands on his hips.

“Alright, indulge me then. I wanna listen.” Sighing, you oblige and pull your phone out of your pocket and tuck your earbuds away. You start the song over from the beginning and turn the volume all the way up as the song begins. Marcus stares off and listens intently, taking in the synthetic sounds that prelude the lyrics. Once Frank Ocean begins singing, a small smile appears on his face and he nods his head.

“I like that, reminds me of you,” he says sweetly, offering his hand out to you. You glare at it suspiciously, not really sure what he’s asking. “Dance with me.” A blush creeps up on your cheeks and you take his hand happily.

Marcus moves one of his hands to the small of your back while the other clutches yours. You bring your hand to his shoulder and begin swaying with him to the music, singing along to the lyrics softly. He’s staring deep into your eyes and trailing his hand up and down your back, leaving goosebumps wherever it goes. You’ve never felt more in love with him than in this moment. He’s content just swaying with you and staring into your soul. And this song reminds him of you. Because of what? Is this how he feels about you? There will be mountains you won’t move. Still I’ll always be there for you, how I do. He has always been there for you. He’s said he will a million times; when your dad died and your mom became estranged, he didn’t expect anything of you. All he did was text or call you ever-so-often to check in on you and make sure you were doing okay. He was one of the only people who really made you feel cared for at that time. That’s when you fell in love with him. You realized that you wouldn’t have gotten through that without his support and care. He and Missy dropped off a gift bag of all of your favorite snacks and movies one night and they spent the evening with you watching movies. Missy fell asleep on your couch and you fell asleep leaning against Marcus’ chest. It was the best you’d slept since your father’s passing. The song ends, leaving you and Marcus swaying to silence, anticipating each other’s next move. Eventually you both stop swaying, your hands move up to lace around the back of his neck and his move to cradle the small of your back. His mouth keeps parting and he inhales sharply, as if he’s about to say something, but he’ll purse his lips, second-guessing himself. You don’t know how, but you know what he wants to say. You can feel it as you look into his eyes. You can feel it when you catch him staring at you. You can feel it every time he enters a room.

“Say it, Marcus,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. You stare at him desperately, you want, no--need to hear him say it. Because you both know how he feels. He just needs to say it. He stares at you lovingly, and brings one of his shaky hands up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face. You inhale sharply at his touch, anticipating the words you’ve been wanting to hear him say for years.

“I’m in love with you,” he admits, his voice dripping in his signature rasp, saying your name as if he was blessed by the gods themselves to have the ability to say it. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, cariña. I always have been, and I always will be.”

Your heart beats out of its chest by his admission, your stomach somersaulting and your skin ablaze. I love you, Marcus. Truly, deeply, I do. Your eyes begin to well up, not from sadness, or even joy, but from relief. After years of uncertainty, wonder, even frustration, you finally know how he feels about you. How he’s always felt. It feels as though a weight’s been lifted off of your shoulders. You love him. You’ll shout it from the rooftops, if you have to. I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him. Tears begin sliding down your face as Marcus cups your cheek with the palm of his hand. You nuzzle into his touch, revelling in the way he so effortlessly cares for you.

“I love you, Marcus. I always have,” you finally confess, your voice shaky from the crying. You sniffle and let out a light laugh in relief. You finally said it, and so did he. His eyes look glassy, and he appears to be biting back tears. He smiles lovingly at you, clearing his throat to try and push down the lump that’s been forming. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, stroking your head with the pad of his thumb as he does so, and pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. He cradles the back of your head while his other hand wraps tightly around your back. Your arms hook under his, clutching his back eagerly.

“I love you too, cariña,” he whispers, his lips pressed atop your head. You close your eyes, revelling in his hold on you for a moment before you decide to pull away and look up into his eyes.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, your eyes searching his for the need you have to lock your lips with his. He doesn’t hesitate to dip his head and pinch your chin, tilting it up towards his face, and sealing his admission of love with a needy, gentle kiss. You sigh into the kiss, feeling sparks all throughout your body. He pulls you into his chest, your body now flush against his and your arms wrapping around his neck. He slides his tongue along your closed lips and you part them, welcoming his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues tangle, the both of you needily searching each other’s mouths. His hands begin roaming your body, sliding up and down your waist, toying with the hem of your top and grazing his fingers over the skin of your lower back. As if he was asking permission to slide his hands up your bare back. You nudge his arm lazily and he complies, sliding his hands up your spine leaving goosebumps in his wake. You gasp against his lips as his hands explore your back, pressing further into him as best as you can. He mumbles into the kiss, gripping your bare waist.

“Mm, Missy home?” he asks against your lips. You shake your head, of course he’d forgotten that she was staying over at a friend’s; you had to bust your ass this afternoon running errands and trying to drop her off in time.

“Friend’s house,” you tell him between kisses. He nods, tugging the fabric of your shirt up.

“Do you want me to take this off, honey?” he asks gently, his lips moving from yours to your cheek then your neck as he trails love bites up and down the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck.

“Yes, please,” you reply breathlessly. He slips your top over your head leaving you in your bra. Not wanting to be the only one shirtless, you bring your fingers up to his tie and loosen it before slipping it over his head, working impatiently on the buttons of his dress shirt. Soon you’re both shirtless, chests heaving as your lips lock together feverishly once again. He starts pushing you towards the bed till your calves meet it.

“Lay down--if-if that’s-if you’re okay with that, cariña,” Marcus says, trying his best to seem assertive, but in his heart he’s too gentle and caring to force you to do anything. You roll your eyes and spin him around, shoving him back onto the bed and climbing onto his lap. Supporting your weight by pressing your hands to his bare chest, you dip down to kiss him again. This time they were sloppy and needy, you wanted to savor every bit of him and memorize the way his lips melted into yours. The way his stubble poked your lip, the way his tongue glided across yours, the feeling of his breath against your face. His hands slide down to grip your ass, kneading it through your jeans. You grin into the kiss, enjoying his hands all over you and the way he’s possessively groping your ass.

“Take off my bra,” you command against his lips. He nods eagerly, his fingers fumbling with the straps of your bra before finally releasing the clasp at the back. You shrug off your bra and slip your arms out of the straps, the garment falling onto his bare chest. He chuckles once it plops onto him, he tosses it to the floor and smiles up at you giddily; he looks at you as if you just gave him the best thing you could have ever given him. You roll your eyes at his excitement.

“Why are you so excited? You never seen a pair of boobs before?” you tease, a blush creeping over his face as he realizes you’ve noticed the way he’s been ogling your chest.

“I just never thought you’d let me look at you like this,” he says, with a slightly somber tone. Did he really think you weren’t going to love him back? He must’ve been feeling the same way you have all these years; the yearning, the pining, and the pain of never really being sure if they loved you in return. But you were here now, on top of him in his bed without a shirt on. You grab his arms and pull him up towards you so he’s sitting up, while you remain straddling his lap. He strokes your face tenderly, taking every bit of you in. You turn your cheek into his touch and plant a chaste kiss against his palm, Marcus smiles at you in return. Your heart could not be full of any more love right now. The way he’s looking at you, touching you, kissing you...you’ve never felt this much love from anyone at once. You don’t think you’ve loved anyone like you’ve loved Marcus. Even though you haven’t really had a serious relationship since high school, a relationship that scared you away from love, but you still didn’t think that you’d let someone enter your heart again. Marcus proved to you from the beginning that he’d never hurt you, so you’ve always trusted him, which is something that you don’t like giving away so easily. Truth is, you’ve not even let a man look at you naked since you were a freshman in college; he was an asshole who took advantage of you and your body. And when you told him you weren’t ready to go all the way, as you’re still a virgin, he was fine with it...Till he decided to ghost you the next day. That made your experiences with men even more volatile. It left such a bad taste in your mouth that you never got around to actually having sex with a man. You got by in college with occasional hookups with women, but you always made sure to leave before they woke up, so as to avoid any festering feelings. Marcus got you to a point in your life where you could trust someone like him, finally. He’s treated you well, he’s loved you more than anyone ever has, he’s taken his time with you by being ever-so-patient. And he will always be your rock no matter what.

“Marcus, I want you to see the rest of me,” you whisper, holding his face in your hands. He smiles warmly at you, his coffee-colored eyes holding every ounce of your pain you’ve allowed him to hear and see. He obliges immediately, stripping you of the rest of your clothes, stroking your exposed skin with his feather-like touch. He’s gentle, loving, caressing your skin like you might crumble under his fingertips if he applies too much pressure. You straddle his clothed lap now completely naked, your slick lips gliding over the rough fabric of his jeans as his erection applies intoxicating pressure against the length of your cunt. Your lips are tangled together hungrily, but he kisses you slow and sensually as he searches your lips with his own, his tongue sliding inside your mouth.

“Let me see the rest of you too,” you whisper against his mouth, your fingers dipping down to his belt buckle as you pry it open. He nods his head and aids you in taking off his pants till he’s now clad in his black briefs. He groans as you palm his erection through his briefs, feeling his dick twitch under your touch as you glide your fingers up and down its tense length. He gasps into the kiss, sensitive and responsive to your hold on his cock. You tug on the elastic of his briefs and yank them down, Marcus adjusts so you can pull them down his legs more easily. His dick springs free, dripping with pre cum and twitching with need. Your pelvis settles firmly against his, Marcus’ cock sliding between your pussy lips and nudging your clit gently. You whimper against his lips as each thrust of his hips results in the head of his dick flicking your sensitive nub. Your clit aches for more friction, needing his fingers in your pussy and for him to stroke you. You grip his wrist and bring it between your legs, urging them into your dripping core.

“You want me to touch you, cariña?” Marcus grunts into your ear, his fingers tracing your entrance. His hot breath tickles your ear and makes your pussy clench with need.

“Marcus, my clit--please, baby,” you whimper against his neck. You thrust against his fingers, attempting to force them inside you, but he avoids your advances. He finally slides his finger up through your lips and to your clit, flicking the aching, swollen bud. You gasp, throwing your head back in pleasure as Marcus strokes you. He pulls his hand away and brings it to your mouth, prying your lips open with his finger, urging you to lubricate it. You swirl your tongue around his digit, then he pulls it out and brings it back to rubbing your clit. The pleasure builds inside of you, your breath hitching with each flick of his finger. You’re getting close to the edge, desperate for Marcus to let you cum; his lips trail up and down your neck, lazily licking and nipping at the skin there. He replaces his middle finger with his thumb and continues the pace of his strokes on your clit before sliding two fingers inside of you. The fullness causing you to mewl in his ear as you begin riding his fingers. Your climax builds as your pussy clenches around his fingers that are working in and out of you, curling with each thrust inside of you. The flicks against your swollen bud, your hips rolling into his fingers, his lips on your neck...the way Marcus is working your cunt right now is pushing you close to the edge. Your toes start curling and your pussy clenches around his fingers, causing Marcus to groan at your tightness.

“That’s right, hermosa. I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum,” he groans in his signature rasp. His hot breath sticks to your neck as the pressure inside of you builds. Shutting your eyes and moaning a slew of curses, you begin to see spots as your pelvis tingles and your cunt clenches hard around Marcus’ fingers. His fingers climb up to your scalp and he tugs your head back by your hair, pulling it away from where it was resting in the crook of his neck. You lazily part your eyes open through your climax, finding Marcus staring at you through his lustful brown eyes. His digits work you through the rest of your orgasm, relishing in the way he’s staring at you; your jaw slack, whimpering and moaning, your hands clutching his broad shoulders. 

“You’re beautiful, my love,” he breathes, stroking the stray strands of hair out of your face. You smile lazily at him, panting as you come down from your climax. His dick twitches against your thigh as he pulls his fingers from your soaked pussy. He offers them to you and you part your mouth, welcoming his cum soaked digits into your mouth; sucking the evidence of your arousal from his fingers. He watches you, your lips sealed around his fingers and your eyes dark with lust. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and lightly grazes your jaw with his saliva soaked fingertips.

“I want you to fuck me, Marcus,” you tell him hungrily, still breathless from your orgasm. He nods eagerly and grips your hips, trying to position you above his cock. You resist his grasp, and he glances up at you confused.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” he asks, his tone dripping with concern as he cradles your cheek with one of his hands.

“Nothing, I’ve just--I haven’t really...I guess I’m--,” you pause to sigh. “I’m still--technically--a virgin.” You swallow hard, unable to keep yourself from feeling embarrassed by your admission. It’s stupid to feel embarrassed, especially in front of Marcus who would never judge you for something like that. He stares at you comfortingly, not an ounce of condescension in his eyes.

“Okay, honey, let me take care of you,” he says tenderly, flipping you on your back so now he’s hovering over you. “Do you want this?” He holds you gently, wanting you as comfortable as possible and trying desperately not to pressure you into anything.

“Yes, Marcus. I want you. I trust you,” you affirm, your fingers dancing over the stubble on his cheek, desperately wanting more of him. Trust has always been hard for you. This was more than just letting him take your virginity, it was letting him into your heart completely and earnestly; it was the first time in years you’ve let someone love, touch, and look at you like this. And you wouldn’t want anyone else to be here fucking you except for Marcus. He grins at you warmly, his eyes so full of love and want.

“I love you,” Marcus says your name, planting a longing kiss on your forehead and nuzzling his cheek against your cheek. 

“I love you, too, Marcus,” you say, feeling all his love for you by simply looking into his eyes. He smiles and plants kisses along your jawline and throat, nipping at the flesh. He reaches into the drawer in his bedside table and pulls out a condom. He tears open the package and rolls it onto his cock. Marcus positions himself at your entrance, your legs wrapping around his waist in anticipation.

“You okay?” he asks nervously, he seems more anxious than you even are and it’s absolutely adorable.

“Marcus, sweetheart, I’m fine,” you giggle, your hands cradling the sides of his head. “Please, I want this. I’ve wanted this for forever. Fuck me, please.” He nods, planting kisses on your forehead, and his dick prods your slick entrance. Marcus sinks the head of his cock into you and hisses at the tightness of your pussy. You mewl as he stretches you open slowly, your arms wrapping around his neck and your bare chest pressing into his. He slowly buries his length into you, his cock twitching inside of you and he revels in the tightness of your cunt. You gasp once he’s sheathed inside of you, your pussy stretched wide open for him and only him. Your clit aches for more friction, and you desperately need him to move inside of you. 

“You good?” he groans through gritted teeth, his lips hovering above yours as your breaths mingles together.

“Marcus, baby, move please--fuck,” you gasp, gripping his shoulder tight. He doesn’t hesitate to begin pulling out slowly, and moving back inside your aching pussy. His thrusts are slow and gentle, trying to get you used to his length before he picks up the pace. He wants this to be as enjoyable for you as possible and he’s only able to do so by starting out painstakingly slow. After a few more slow, languid thrusts, he gauges a slightly quickened pace. You moan, locking his lips with yours, and sloppily kiss him as you begin to try and thrust against him, searching for a rhythm. Your hips rock with his, his thick cock gliding in and out of your pussy, but your clit still craves more friction.

“My clit--shit, Marcus,” you hiss against his lips. He dips one of his fingers between your bodies and begins flicking your clit gently and expertly as he continues to fuck you. You gasp and whimper into the kiss as he keeps flicking the sensitive bud in rhythm with his thrusts. You bring his lower lip between your teeth and tug it gently, Marcus groaning before locking your lips again.

“Fuck--cariña, you’re so tight--so good--for me, shit,” Marcus growls into the kiss, his thrusts keeping pace but becoming harder. You moan, the pressure on your clit becoming almost too much for you as his cock stretches you wide and fills you each time he thrusts all the way into you. “Wanted you--wanted--I’ve dreamt about fucking this tight little pussy, cariña.”

The way he speaks to you makes your body run hot, his words burning into your skin and making you flush. You moan your affirmations, wanting to urge him on to keep going.

“Baby, keep going--keep talking,” you choke out between gasps and moans. Marcus continues his pace on your clit and with his thrusts, not faltering even once as he groans in pleasure.

“I wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck the shit out of you. I--shit--wanted to eat your pussy out while you made breakfast; on my knees, my head between your thighs, licking your cunt like that’s what you were serving me,” he growls, dipping his head down briefly to lazily suck your nipple, switching between both breasts. “You--fuck--mija, you’re mine. You’re finally mine, I won’t lose you.” His hot breath tickles your breasts and he kisses his way back up to your lips locking them together again. His words were not possessive by any means, they were desperate, needing you to know how much it would hurt him if he were to lose someone else he loved the same way he lost his wife. The pressure he’s creating from the flicking of your clit partnered with his cock buried deep inside your pussy as it tickles your g-spot, becomes too much and before you know it you’re close. Your cunt clenches around his cock a few times, making Marcus groan into your mouth. You gasp and whimper, wanting to cum for him again; you want to come undone in front of him, show him just how much you’ve wanted to fuck him all these years. You roll your hips up into his, frantically searching for your orgasm as your thrusts begin to quicken and your pussy clenches around him once again.

“Marcus, I’m close,” you whimper into your sloppy kiss, clinging to his back and dragging your nails up and down the skin there.

“Cariña, cum for me. You look so sexy when you finish,” he whispers huskily against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip as he thrusts harder into you again, the slapping of skin echoing throughout the room. Your body tenses underneath him, white spots clouding your vision as your cunt clenches around his dick, milking him. Your body tingles and you spasm against his bare chest, digging your nails further into his back. Marcus thrusts into you, hissing when you clench around his throbbing cock, as he rides out his climax. His groans and whimpers growing louder as he reaches his orgasm, then promptly quieting down once he begins to come down. You pant, your chest rising and falling as you also come down from your own climax. Marcus slumps next to you, his twitching length still sheathed inside of you as your legs tangle together. He grabs your chin and tilts your head towards him to kiss you, slowly and featherlike, wanting to savor your taste. You lay like that for a moment, your sweaty chests rising and falling together as you both try to catch your breath.

“I’m so in love with you,” Marcus says your name, draping his arm over your stomach and squeezing your waist gently. “And I will show you just how much I love you every day, mi amor,” He plants a kiss on your shoulder. “I’ll never let you forget it.” He kisses up and down the length of your neck, his tongue darting out occasionally to taste you.

“You’re my hero,” you giggle, turning on your side to face him while his dick still remains buried inside of you. He rolls his eyes playfully, having heard hundreds of different women say that very phrase over the course of his career, but it strikes something inside of him when he hears you say it. “You saved me. I love you.” You snuggle into his chest and pepper kisses along the sweaty skin there.

“I’ll always be here, cariña. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll catch you when you fall, like how you catch me when I do. I would be so lost without you, mi corazon,” he says tenderly, planting a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around you tighter. He loosens his hold on you, and pulls his half-hardened cock out of your pussy. He disposes of the condom then pulls the sheets back over your bodies, bringing you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. Marcus plants slow, languid kisses all over your face, wanting to make you feel all the love he holds for you. Your eyes droop shut, fatigue beginning to overcome your body as you’re trapped in Marcus’ arms. But this is a place you wouldn’t want to escape, no, you feel safe here. Marcus won’t let you go, and you wouldn’t let him go either. Marcus has your heart, and there’s no one else you’d trust to keep it. He’s your hero, after all. The hero who saved you with his love.

[milky-maid-library]

CHAPTER 1: Perfer et obdura, dolor hic tibi proderit olim.

Summary: 19 year old Elizabeth Hillard is met with the truth that she is actually a late blooming Omega.

Please read the trigger warnings and tags!: description of medical vagina examination, abandonment and verbal scolding/abusive tones. non-consensual treatment. non-consensual drugging.

Notes: A gift to @cursedcursingviking

“Perfer et obdura, dolor hic tibi proderit olim” means “be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you.”

April 15th 2023, 13:00pm, Saint Heiler, Jersey, United Kingdom.

“Holy shit, holy shit, no, no, no!” she was sobbing. Stick in hand, a horse shoe and a smiley face soaked in her urine on the tip. Five other tests were on the floor around her feet, all positive; all Omega.

She couldn’t believe this, her whole life said “Alpha, Alpha, you are an Alpha.”

Her parents were both Alphas!

She was meant to be an Alpha!

The possibility of being an Omega for her is less than six percent. The last Omega in her family was her great-grandmother on her mother’s side or some distant shit like that. Her aunts and uncles were all betas and Alphas.

Her family have always told her that “to be an Omega is to be a waste of time.”

Omegas were submissive, obedient, they were at home looking after pups or in the hospital at the nursery or at daycares looking after loud, slobbering toddlers.

Her family were strongly built, they were made of soldiers, police officers, construction developers, political leaders and company CEO’s. Not pathetic, whiney housewives.

Currently she was seeing her whole world swirling down the toilet as she flushed it.  She wanted to stay in school and study to be a high paid vet! Now she’ll be sent to a correctional centre or foreign country with extra distant family and forced to knit and paint until finally sold off to a partner or a birthing centre for science.

She sobbed harder before finally vomiting over the toilet bowel induced by the overwhelming stress.

Laying her cheek on the seat she glanced at her watch and cringed. Her mother would be home any minute! Picking up each test, she considered snapping them in half and clogging the toilet up with them yet what was the use? When scent was in the picture evolution was the final bitch.

Looking at the many smiley faces she felt like they were mocking her, laughing at her. Normally she would get angry, but now…instead she was sad. Tears sprung in her eyes again as she cradled them to her chest. Stumbling out of the bathroom she clamped up the stairs to her bedroom. She shut the door instead of slamming it. Gentle, considerate. Dropping the tests onto the side table, she fell into her bed and crawled under her covers.

“W-worst day ever.” She cried over and over, muffled by the softness of her pillows she inhaled in.

April 15th 2023, 16:30pm, Saint Heiler, Jersey, United Kingdom.

“Beth! Come down here please!” Her mother called from the kitchen.

Elizabeth’s eyes flashed open, she was wrapped in a tumble of her sheets and blankets. Her mother must’ve just come just gotten home, she was always so busy with her corporate work, she hadn’t seen her dad in two weeks since his overtime in the city bank.

She could hear her call again, firmer this time around.

She groaned and dragged herself up from her bed and down the stairs. Her stomach growled, hungry. She wondered what her mother was planning to cook or if they were just going to have pizza.

Stepping into the Kitchen her mother was kicking off her leather shoes and ripping her suit jacket over the counter.

“What did I say about boys?” She snapped over her shoulder. Drinking down a Painkiller. Great, she was already in a bad mood. She forgot her mother only got her cornrows re-braided yesterday, her head must’ve been violently sore. Elizabeth tried warning her to not go into work, call in a sick day, but no one would attempt to change Mrs. Hillard’s mind once it was made, like most mums.

But boys? Now that Elizabeth didn’t understand the sudden burst of tone. She felt her body loosen and turn icy, her skin covered in goosebumps. She mother was furiously popping an second pill before her when Elizabeth shivered, “D-don’t bring boys over.”

She sneered, her canines flashing; her large brown eyes identical to her daughters, glared her down.

Stepping around her to the cupboards, she whipped out an air freshener and dosed the room in a scent of lavender…only to be clouded by hormonal pheromones.

She felt the air grow painfully heavy as her mother hissed and sprayed the can out, before furiously slamming onto the counter and slamming the cupboards shut.

“Then why the fuck do I smell an omega?!” her sharp nail pointed to the ceiling and she began yelling as though there was someone upstairs she was calling to, “You tell that bloody boy to get out before I haul his goddamn omega ass out onto the fucking sidewalk!”

Omega…She thinks I brought an omega over…She smells…me…omega…I’m an omega…no…no…

“M-mum…I don’t have a b-boy over,” Elizabeth stepped from side to side.

Her mother pinched the bridge her nose and sighed, “Well Beth…I didn’t know you were into girls,” gently reaching out, and peeled back her daughter’s silk cap lovingly releasing her coily hair, “…but she needs to leave.” Her mothers fingers touched her cheek, boiling. It was then that colour started to fade from her face.

“Mum, please-” Before the poor teen could explain that she was the scent, Mrs Hillard marched her way up stairs and slammed open the door to her room where a giant wave of humid Omega scent flew out.

No…no! Mum! Stop! No!

Her voice was silent, her lips shut in a worried grimace.

As Elizabeth ran up the stairs, she heard her mother scream.

April 15th 2023, 17:45pm, Saint Heiler, Jersey, United Kingdom.

The hospital was…cold…the air-conditioning pelting down on her neck made her snuggle deeper into her sweater. Her mother was trembling just as hard as she was. She was shaken up herself, Elizabeth couldn’t tell if her mother was experiencing fear, rage even …disappointment. She hadn’t let Elizabeth touch her ever since she found all the positive Omega tests. When she tried to hold her hand, her mother growled at her.

Elizabeth though craved touch, she needed support, she needed her mum, she needed affection.

The waiting room was almost empty, the only other people was an Omega man with his pup in a sling while his Alpha wife continued to protectively touch their baby’s forehead. Elizabeth stared at the baby though… pups…where are my pups?...

“Elizabeth Hillard?” an English accent cut through the train of thought on the baby. In the doorway to the hall, the tall doctor was looking between her and the couple. When she stood up, with her mother hot on her tail, he smiled and led them to his office.

Awkwardly Elizabeth sat down onto waiting chair next to the doctors desk. Taking a deep breath she could smell the scent of Alpha and hand sanitiser. The overwhelming senses made her feel slightly nauseas.

Her mother sat beside her with a mournful sigh, she lifted her hand out to the doctor to shake it, “Julia, Mrs Hillard, Beth’s mother.”

He smiled, “Hello Mrs Hillard, I’m Doctor Cavill.” After the two Alphas acquainted themselves he finally sat in his wheeley chair and regarded Elizabeth.

“What can I help you with today Miss Hillard?” he smiled. Beth noticed how he looked so clean, and was built like a brickhouse, he smelt like an Alpha. The rooms light glinted on his medical wrist band proclaiming him as his blood type and confirming his own scent. Behind his spectacles, his eyes were kind, made of two colours, blue and his left eye had a tip of brown…it was merely something she saw...his smile was warm like a freshly baked cookie. Oh god…she was aroused.

Beth didn’t realise she wasn’t answering his question when he stared at her and her mother finally answered.

“She smells like an Omega.”

The Doctor then turned his attention away and pursed his lips and lifted a single brow at Mrs. Hillard, “Is something wrong with that?”

Her mother scoffed and rose her voice to a humiliating state. Elizabeth’s heart was beating fast, her cheeks were heating up and she tried sinking further into the seat. Her nose dug into the woollen shoulder of her sweater.

“Her father and I are both pure blooded Alphas! How can this happen!? The last omega we had was my great-grandmother and that’s it!”

Doctor Cavill sighed calmly taking off his glasses and setting them on his desk he then folded his arms and stood from his desk, “I see, well then Mrs Hillard, please step outside to the waiting room. I will need to conduct a blood and vaginal test.”

Her mother obviously huffed and grumbled about ‘how unprofessional’ and ‘surely I can stay’. Even now Elizabeth wanted her to leave with her hostile attitude. Luckily there was no way a female Alpha would argue with a male Alpha. When the door shut though it felt strange. All the heavy tension in the room lifted off of Elizabeth’s chest. She felt instantly calmer and made it easier to breathe.

The doctor sat back into his desk chair and crossed a leg over another casually.

“So…” he smiled, “How do you feel Miss Hillard?”

She gulped slightly and shakily answered, “Everything is smelling sweeter than normal,” she hated the scent of hand sanitiser but now it was something she wanted to shove up her nose. If it blocked out every other scent from the dust on the walls to the chocolate in the vending machine outside to the scent of the alpha right in front of her…she’d drink it all down.

“No,” he chuckled pushing back from his desk and started rummaging through his desk for medical items, “I mean, are you okay? Are you stressed or scared, or are you alright? I can always get a cup of water for you. But we need to take your blood first.”

She shook her head and tucked her neck deeper down into her sweater. Her fingers felt the scratchiness of the wool. She nodded and slipped the material off over her head and folded it neatly onto the chair her mother sat.

“I’m terrified,” Elizabeth confessed, her voice choked up, “I don’t want to be an Omega, I hope this is just a stupid puberty flux…maybe it’s a flip!”

It wasn’t uncommon for this situation to happen. Hormones can sometimes Flip and shows signs for the two other blood types, sometimes blood has become contaminated due to high iron levels or too much sugar intake. Diabetes were always Flipping the board. There were a million things that could cause a Flip in the hormonal pool.

“There’s nothing wrong with being an Omega you know,” her doctor commented sternly, holding up a needle, changing the needle point while Elizabeth choked.

She felt unusually insulted, “Everything is wrong with being an Omega, I won’t get the job I want and I won’t be allowed to come to parties with my friends, I’ll be stuck home with a…a…a fucking baby. Or sent to a breeding farm! I heard about the science experiments conducted on pregnant Omegas in the camps.”

The doctor turn abruptly at her and narrowed his eyes at her, he seemed offended. What does he need to be offended about, he’s an Alpha!

But his frown became a smirk, “You’re aware they are safetly committed with the Omegas consent,” He patted the medical chair in the centre of the room, “But whatever case, what do you want to do Career wise?” he asked while she crawled up atop of the tall chair and let him pull up her sleeve and wipe the alcohol on her arm.

“I want to be a vet,” She winced as the needle broke through her skin. She looked away from the bubbling blood being sucked up through the tube.

As he pulled away and capped the needle tip he asked, “Ever thought about midwifery?”

“I don’t like babies,” she snorted, “They’re so uncomfortable to be around. And I don’t want to listen to a screaming woman in labour.”

She noticed the movement in his shoulders as they slumped, he nodded and she felt like she was failing an unspoken test. She felt a rising anxiety, she growled to herself, it’s just a hormonal Flip.

“Fair enough,” her doctor said off handily, he sealed up her blood in a plastic bag and started to write her details. The pen cap lazily hung from his lips. He looked like he smoked…he didn’t smell like it though, maybe it was the way he stood. His scent was so easy to smell and feel…the omega yearned to know if he could smell her. And to her tragic uncontrol, her underwear were rubbing rough against her sensitive areas, the fumes dragged out this needing slick that was sickening.

Being omega is disgusting, this is what they do all the time? Gross! GET ME SOME ALPHA HORMONES NOW. She knew this had to be wrong, all the time she had been surrounded by alphas and she had been strong and confident like an alpha, maybe a little strategic like a beta. She was sure though she was alpha rather than beta and there was no possible way for her to present as a dormant omega for this long!

“How old are you Miss Hillard?”

“I’m eighteen,” she informed him of her birthday and he nodded, writing it down in the corner of the bag.

She was officially pissed off, crossing her arms she felt her eyes watering. “I want to be an Alpha or even a Beta,” she whimpered, “I can’t be an Omega, no way.”

The whimper…Shit! Stop whimpering you baby! Stop proving this point! Could you be anymore Omega!?

The doctor placed the test bag on his desk before gifting her a soft tissue “Have you taken a home determine test?” his hands settled onto his knees as he crouched down before her.

She broke out into a light sob and nodded, “ugh huh, I took six different ones…all positive for Omega.”

The doctor smiled sadly and handed her the box of tissues he had on his desk.  A nurse came knocking barely after she had started. It made her feel puny when she couldn’t stop herself from crying. She felt helpless, why couldn’t they just get her some alpha hormones already?

“Please take this to the test room,” he asked the nurse, handling a plastic bag with her needle inside.

Doctor Cavill let Beth cry as long as she wanted and reminded her that it wasn’t a hundred percent if she was an Omega yet.

The doctor rubbed her back and cleared his throat. From a draw below her feet he pulled out a green plastic cape, “Miss Hillard would you like to step into the bathroom there and remove your bottoms? Put the gown on?”

Time to get the vaginal confirmation that she was tighter than a needle hole. She pushed his hand away. God he sounded patronising, even if he was being merely polite about the events unfolding she took it as a personal attack, an underlying “You’re a weak omega, deal with it!”

No! I’m not an Omega!

Things were escalating to quickly; she barely realised the conclusions she was leaping to and how dramatic she was pushing with these emotions. She sniffed hard and snapped at him, “Can’t I just take my pants off now?”

Doctor Cavill shifted back uncomfortably, he grit his teeth and scrunched up his eyes, “I merely am offering a more comfortable option,” he clapped his hands, “But you may if you wish, have you ever attended a gynaecologist for a papsmear?” he asked as he got his tools ready from another draw.

She leaped off the chair and slammed her foot down.

“Duh!” She yelled, kicking her shoes off, and shoving her pants down, she was furious. Moodswings was a popular symptom of Flips.

“I just want to get this over with. Mum is so pissed off. Can’t wait for some fucking A-pills.” She grumbled, leaning back into the chair and spread her legs apart…normally she did this with a female doctor but right now she was too impatient to request a woman and she needed to know how fucked up her Flip was and how long would she experience it and how powerful would the drugs be. She couldn’t ever stand the look her mother gave her when she held up the positive determine test with horror.

The doctor cleared his throat again, snapping white gloves onto his hand and over his wrist band. He squirted a tube of lube over his hands and over the speculum, lining it up to her vagina and pushed it inside slowly, “Miss Hillard, please relax for me.”

She huffed to herself. I am fucking relaxed! No you’re not, you’re a bad omega, obey him!

The metal was cold inside of her but she was looking forward to the results: Alpha, Alpha, Alpha, I am Alpha.

He took a flashlight and shone the light down her passage, looking down at her inner muscles, “How often do you practise sexual intercourse Miss Hillard?” looking up at her from her pussy.

Shit, the scent was strong, it was so sweet like maple syrup and honey but sweeter…lick me. Oh fuck please alpha please please.

She shook her head and blushed, “N-never, I’ve only masturbated. So….” She swallowed hard, her head felt hot and she swore she could feel cold sweat dripping down, “Am I an Alpha or Beta?”

The doctor dipped two rubber fingers inside of her, patting down and around inside her. And suddenly his eyes widened, he gently slipped out his fingers and the cold speculum out. On his fingers was blood…oh shit…

“You may sit up and dress Miss Hillard, “The doctor set his tools and gloves into a silver tray. She was shaking…what was she?

He was washing his hands in the sink right beside her head when she bit her lips and lifted up her undies and jeans back up. The room was so quiet, the only noise was the sinks running water and the air conditioner. Beth shivered and sniffled.

Doctor Cavill’s shoulders were low, he turned his head and faced her. Twisting his fingers together he shook his head, “Miss Hillard,” he started with a long exhaled breath, “You’re days away from your first Estrus.”

The earth dropped and the moon broke and the stars were dimmed…“What do you mean Estrus!?” she questioned. Tears spurted from her eyes again. Gagged by nature.

No fucking way. Yes way.

“‘Heat’, an Omega will go into Estrus or commonly known as Heat while an Alpha will go into Oestrus commonly known as a ‘Rut’,” Doctor Cavill tried explain only for the angry young woman to scream abuse at him.

“I know what it is! I must be going into Oestrus, n-not an estrus, I can’t be an Omega, doctor! Ch-Check again!”

Sweat trailed down her face onto her neck, her heart was punching her insides, seeking an escape of her ribcage.

When she tried undoing her pants again, her doctor tore her hands away and took her wrists up, he was breathing harshly through his nose, “Miss Hillard I’m going to have to ask you to sit down and take a deep breath. Listen to me.”

She shook her head over and over, she couldn’t believe it! She was finally sobbing hard, choking on her tears.

Wailing, “No, no, no, please doctor, please!”

Out of the depth of the doctor’s chest came a stern growl, “Sit. Down. Now. Or I will have to restrain and sedate you.”

Her body was out of control, she didn’t want to sit but her arse met the chair cushion anyway. Good omega.

The doctor huffed, shaking his head with disappointment, her head flinched down, cowering and humiliated. She felt apologetic, but this wasn’t the real her.

“Good girl,” he praised, handing her a paper cup filled with water from the sink, “Now drink.”

The water was gulped down in a heartbeat, she needed the refreshment even if she didn’t want it, her doctor nodded, “That’s it.”

As she sipped on some more water the nurse from earlier stepped inside and handed the doctor a sheet of paper. The blood results… she shook on the spot, her red face panicking.

“Pl-please.” She choked on the water slightly, clearing her sore throat she sniffled, “What does it say?”

There was still a chance, maybe he was wrong; maybe this was just a intense Oestrus that was causing her to bleed. Maybe it was so strong her vaginal walls were stabbing themselves, seeking out an omega cock to claim.

Cavill looked from her to the parchment a few times, he shook his head. He held out the medical sheet to her and pointed to a positive cross.

The world went silent even as he was talking to her…it was a distant noise.

“Miss Hillard, you are as I had diagnosed, Omega positive,” he scratched his gland gently, “You are days away from your first Estrus I will give you a choice to either battle through it with medical aids or medical suppressants.”

She dropped the paper and the cup, the shock was as cold as ice. She felt weak and her arms numb, her eyes rolled back and her mouth lulled open. Her life was completely over.

Elizabeth Hillard the Omega fainted.

April 16th 2023, 1:25am, Saint Heiler, Jersey, United Kingdom.

When Elizabeth woke up, she was delirious. The world wouldn’t stop twisting and turning. Abover her was a bright light, she cringed away and whimpered. There was a mean bite at her wrist. She felt cold, washed out. Her body was laid out and angled up a slight. Her cheek rubbed into the soft hospital pillow. She smelt blood, so much metallic salt in the air. And her stomach was viciously growling. She peered down and noticed what was pinching her wrist. Handcuffs. She was handcuffed to the railing of her bed!

Clearing her eyes, she found herself surrounded by three blue curtains. One was quick to open, startling her. The nurse from earlier smiled at her eagerly, her Beta tag was super shiny in the light, forcing Elizabeth to blink rapidly, “Oh look, you’re awake. Can you please tell me your full name sweetheart?”

When she sat up slowly and moaned, “Elizabeth Hendrix Hillard.”

Before she could ask the handcuffs to be removed, the nurse smiled and held up a torch.

“Wonderful, now I am gonna need to shine a little light in your eye, can you please look into the corner of the ceiling dear?”

Doing as she was told, it was quick and over as soon as it had begun. The nurse was pleased, “Fabulous, right, I’ll be right back, Doctor Cavill needs to have a chat with you.”

“B-but my hand…”

Ignoring her, the nurse left.

Something was clearly off. Why did they handcuff her!? She started to tug at the chain, feeling her anxiety seep deep and activate a sense of fight or flight. The curtains reopened. And in stepped the doctor.

He grinned and nodded his head to her, “Hello there Elizabeth, how are we?”

She wasn’t amused in the slightest, quick with retort. “Chained to a bed rail.”

He smiled and whipped out a key, uncuffing her from the bed. She cradled her wrist, murmuring ‘thankyou’.

Her stomach loudly purred, extinguishing the level of discomfort she wanted to send the doctor. “…and hungry.”

“I’ll tell the nurse to get you some jello,” he chuckled, rubbing his hands. Just as he was to leave, she launched herself forward and caught his medical coat, “Wh-where’s my mum?”

He softly assured her, “She is just sitting in my room, we were discussing options after I showed her and your father your blood results.” Oh…dad…oh jesus…

She suspected her father to have been incredibly furious. How much furniture did he break?

“You…” she paused, “options…” she gulped and smiled at the doctor, “….I want suppressants...as soon as possible.” They would surely fix everything! She could have some and go have a coffee with her friends tomorrow.

“Not those kind of options…” He sighed and perched himself near her feet at the foot of her bed.

That was a weird answer…what does he mean? Could they change my DNA? Could they turn me into an Alpha. She had heard of some new sciences like that coming in.

“What other types are there?” she laughed hesitantly.

When he didn’t answer her, she felt the air grow heavy again…there’s a reason they kept you chained like a bitch.

There was only one other option….a correctional institution. She felt ill.

“I want to see my mum,” she gulped and moved to slip out of the bed. The medical gown was scratchy against her skin, she started to feel worse, her fingers scrunched up and unravelled. Her body felt dizzy when she stood up to quickly. The doctor attempted to block her way when she peeled back the curtain to many empty bed and a single door with a sign, “Farewell room.”

No, no, fuck, no! where’s mum and dad!

She hurried to the door and shook at the handle, but it was locked, she was locked in with the doctor. She couldn’t escape. The floor cleaner and bright lights were clouding her senses, blinding her eys and stinging her mouth and nose.

She ripped a heavy breath, not thinking it would be so painful after holding it in too long. I won’t cry, no, no crying!

“Elizabeth I’m gonna need you to calm down,” the doctor informed her, setting his hands over her shoulders, she was fast to slap them away. She lowly growled at him and bared her teeth ferally. Don’t you fucking touch me!

When she realised whatg she had done, especially to an alpha, she felt instant regret and guilt, she choke on more tear and buried her head into the doctors chest. His heart was beating fast too, but not like her rabbit pounding blood.

“N-no,” she cried, “I want my mummy!”

She felt the doctor soothingly rub his hand over her head and down her back. He hushed her until she was just a whimpering woman.

The door unlocked, and finally…“Beth…” her mother spoke out to her.

She snapped back around and saw her mother and father beside the door. Her father barely came him, his lips curled in, disappointed, disgusted and silent.

A tiny smile came to Elizabeth’s face, her hands reached out, “Mum!”

But Mrs Hillard stood back from her. Again and again. The closer Elizabeth sought out her mother, the more Mrs. Hillard distanced herself and stood closer to the door.

“M-mum? H-hug me…” she begged, “pl-please mum?”

She sighed and looked away from her, refusing to look her in the eye. Shame. “Doctor Cavill, your father and I believe it is best if you…go away for sometime, “ she clutched her own arms, “…where people can help you.”

Elizabeth did not see it that way at all, and she knew her mother was lying out of her arse.

“I don’t need to be helped,” Elizabeth sniffled and smiled, “I just-just need some suppressants.”

“Elizabeth,” she seethed through her gritted teeth, “Go with the nice nurses.”

“M-mummy, please,” She put her hands together and got to her knees on the cold tiled floor, “Please don’t do this!”

“STOP!” her mother screamed, “You are making a scene!” she rolled her eyes and turned around to leave, “You will go to ‘Saint Selene’s School For Adolescent Omega.’ We may see you during the summer.” And slammed the door closed.

She ran to the door and found it locked, she pounded the window with her fists and screamed out, “D-don’t leave me, please don’t leave me Dad!…M-Mummy!” her father and mother did not look back as they walked away, abandoning their only child. Their backs and bodies continued to  get smaller and smaller the further they walked. The sight broke her heart. The concept of betrayal could not be clearer. Her breath clouded the glass, her tears sliding down and tapped onto the floor, onto her naked feet.

Doctor Cavill’s hand reached out and wrapped around her bicep, trying to tug her back from the door. “Come on,” he said.

She felt her body move and she went into a frenzy of defense, “Let go of me!”

When he did not, she saw a lonely pen on the end of a bed frame with a clip board. She grabbed it and jabbed his forearm. The blue ink spattered across his skin while he yelled in pain.

“Get the fuck off of me!” she squealed again and held up the pen with both hands, take a few steps back from the now pissed off Doctor. The sound of the door opening again had her heart rushing.

Mum!?

To her massive disappointment, it was the nurse who was shocked by the scene unfolded. Now Elizabeth was surrounded.

“Put the weapon down!” the beta demands, holding up her own hands in defence, “Now.”

“Calm,” was the word she heard him say beside her ear, before pressing her back into him, grasping her jaw and finally feeling an incredibly long sting in her neck followed by the unusual flow of liquidised drugs into her body, “calm.” Her last thought was, that’s a lot of fucking morphine.

[kpopcotton]

Warm ~ Yang Jeongin

a/n ~ another request !! thank you again, and i’m so so sorry for the wait !! • Prompt: cuddles with best boy jeongin • Genre: fluff, college student!au • Warning(s): none • Reader Gender: gender neutral • Word Count: 1.6k

   it had been a rough week, to say the least, your courses deciding to lay the work on thick. you barely had any free time between your class schedule, your job, and your assignments. there was a collective six hours of sleep over the span of the seven days under your belt, and you were practically living off energy drinks and junk food at that point. sadly, your friends had a mostly free schedule, meaning they could hang out. jeongin, being the saint that he is, gladly provided you with updates on the adventures through texts and the occasional meme so you wouldn’t feel left out or out of the loop when the time came for you to rejoin them in their ventures.

   luckily, you finally could, the last of your assignments completed and submitted, however, exploring the city at night with friends was the last thing on your mind. all you wanted to do was switch your laptop over to Netflix, find a boring show, cuddle up in bed, and pass out. it seemed like the most pleasurable thing in the world. 

   you texted jeongin your excitement and plans, him sharing the same sentiment which put a smile on your face. you texted him good night and he wished you “sweet dreams” before you stood up to get ready for bed. with your head full of comforting thoughts and the promise of a quiet night in, you decided to hop in the shower to wash away the stress that had come with your studies. you had started to rinse the conditioner out of your hair when you heard the front door open. three familiar and distinct voices filling your dorm room. your roommate, jisung, was home. with company.

   a steady thrum of annoyance started to pump your heart instead of contentment. you have nothing against your roommate, being as he usually is so sweet and considerate, but dealing with his so-called group “3racha”, was not in your plans for the night. you do remember a rushed text that had quite a few misspellings from him saying he might be home late, yet he failed to mention bringing his friends, chan, and changbin with him.

   you dried your hair as best you could, departing from the shower and glowering at yourself in the mirror when you heard their laughter, before you wrapped yourself in a towel and left the bathroom. you bumped right into chan upon stepping out, his ears turning red as he took in your appearance, he tried to stutter something about not knowing you were home. you didn’t feel the least bit embarrassed, more tired than anything, so you just muttered something to ease his nerves and continued to the living room where you knew the other two would be.

   “han jisung,” you whine, causing said boy to look up from his phone on the couch with a confused expression, though even in your sleepy haze you noticed the fear in his eyes.

   “you’re still up?” is his response. you roll your eyes and instantly tug at his ear. changbin’s laugh burst from him, watching jisung struggle.

   “you didn’t tell me some friends were coming over,” you say with clenched teeth, a fake smile pulling at your lips. you aren’t sure if jisung heard you over his own whining, but you weren’t sure if you cared. 

   “‘m sorry, y/n! believe me! i meant to text you! i coulda swore i did! h-have mercy!” jisung manages to pry your hand off his ear and hold it in between his own as he looks up at you with pleading eyes. “they’ll only be over for a little bit! chan wants to go over a new idea of a song!”

   “hey, don’t throw me under the bus!” chan suddenly speaks up from the hallway, his ears still red. “i swear han was the one to suggest his place! if i’d known you were home, i would have declined!”

   you appreciate the honesty, but you notice jisung doesn’t. his eyes are wide and staring straight at chan, trying to tell him an earful without saying it out loud. you breathe out a chuckle, adjusting your towel with a sigh. “it’s okay, just -- just please keep it down, i really need sleep.”

   “yeah, no worries!” chan says instantly, smiling shyly.

   “you can count on us,” changbin smiles as well. “you won’t even notice we’re here!”

   “i better not,” you laugh, though your tone is more directed at jisung as you look him in the eye. “and you owe me dinner, han jisung.”

==≎==

   you realize you shouldn’t have trusted 3racha when they said they would be quiet. they’re three lively boys for goodness sake, they have enough energy to power a small town during a blackout. you had to give them credit, though, you could tell for the first hour they were trying to stay quiet for you. perhaps they thought you had fallen asleep, that maybe they could be louder as the night progressed because it seemed like they hadn’t calmed down for at least thirty minutes. you wished you had fallen asleep when they were quieter, but there was always something loud to wake you up just as you were on the cusp on falling into dreamland.

   you had given up all hope of falling asleep in your dorm, the only thing your exhausted mind could think of was to call jeongin in hopes that he would save you. before you could process what you did, he was already picking up the call.

   “y/n? shouldn’t you be sleeping? i thought you were done with your assignments?” he sounded worried, and there was something that told you he hadn’t gone to bed yet. you felt slightly thankful for that.

   “i am. but -- but guess who’s staying at my apartment?” you cringe at the sound of your voice, but power through it when you hear your best friend’s faint laugh on the other end of the line. from somewhere in the house, you hear jisung yell something.

   “3racha?”

   “3racha.” you could feel a smile start to grow on your face, glad jeongin knew exactly what was going on.

   “want to come over?”

   “i thought you’d never ask.”

==≎==

   you luckily lived in the same building as jeongin, him living on a higher floor than yours, which made the trip so much easier for someone as sleep-deprived as you. your eyes were barely open as you made your way to the elevator, pressing the button to his floor and then the one to close the doors faster. you decided to lean against the wall with your eyes closed for the duration of the ride upwards, it already being so much more soothing than your dorm with its soft music. the gentle ding notifying you that you had reached the floor almost didn’t wake you, however, the doors opening and a soft call of your name did.

   your heart melts when you open your eyes to see jeongin waiting for you outside the elevator. he has a sweet smile as he holds out a hand for you, which you gladly take. you walk yourself into his embrace as a hello. he’s dressed in a big pink hoodie and grey joggers that engulf you in his scent and warmth.

   “you were waiting for me?” you mumble into the fabric covering his shoulder.

   “of course,” he laughs, the thought funny before he can even get it out. “who would wake you up if you fell asleep along the way?”

   “good point,” you smile, your arms tightening around his waist.

   “i mean -- uh -- hyunjin and his boyfriend are sleeping too, so i also didn’t want you to knock on the door and, you know, wake them up,” he adds sheepishly, you feel his arm reach up to rub at his neck. you simply nod against him. “let’s head inside, it’s cold out here.”

   you’re barely there mentally when jeongin pulls away from you, you register his warmth leaving from against you and his hand slipping back into yours as he leads you to his door. he punches in his lock code and opens it for you, his hands occupied by both holding the door open and leading your worn frame inside. he lets you go for only a moment to do his best to silently close his door before he wraps you in a blanket he prepared and leads you to his room.

   his laptop is open on his desk showing a history article and you take notice of the multiple tabs he has open. there are a few papers scattered on his desk as well. you feel a sinking pressure in your chest when you realize you probably won’t be getting the cuddles you were sleepily hoping for. jeongin sits you on his bed and notices a soft pout on your lips with a smile. 

   “don’t worry, that’s,” he gestures to his laptop. “not due for another week. i was getting a head start. let me save everything and we can cuddle, okay?”

   you nod, your spirits instantly lifted, and lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling and watching the shadows dance across the surface. soon, the room is bathed in darkness and jeongin’s warmth returns to you in his bed. he awkwardly slides into place next to you, moving his comforter to lay over the both of you. 

   once he stops moving, you know he’s waiting for you to cuddle up to him. you instantly leave the blanket he gave you behind for his arms and you can’t help the sigh of relief that leaves you when his arms wrap around you and pull you close. all you can feel is the softness of his clothes, his body heat, and the rise and fall of his chest and it is the most amazing thing you’ve felt all week.

   “thank you,” you sigh dreamily, snuggling your face into his hoodie. you barely register his response, your sleepless nights catching up to you faster than a muscle car on a race track, and you let yourself sink into the peaceful sleep your best friend brings you.

[n0irrrr]

e m p t y / 13

shingeki no kyojin | series [various x male!amnesiac!reader] summary: [Name], an amnesiac boy awakes in a unknown place – trying to remember anything makes him have horrible headaches. Who is he? And why he can’t remember his own face? masterlist

chapter twelve

someone else

"[Name]! Wake up already!" Eren’s voice is the first thing [Name] hears, right on his ear. His friend moves him and pushes him around, trying to wake him up. The sleepy boy only gets irritated by the harsh movement, punching the brunette away from him. “H–Hey! That hurt!”

”Go away,” is the only thing [Name] can say before hiding his face on his pillow and sleep again. Unfortunately for him, his friend doesn’t give up. Eren tightens his hold on [Name]’s shirt and makes him sit by force, making the sleepy boy a little dizzy by the sudden movement.

”There you go!” He grins, “Marco advised me to lay your clothes here, so hurry and change! I’ll be right back.” He stands in the same spot, looking at [Name]’s cute sleepy state for some time before leaving.

The [hair color] haired is not awake, clearly. His eyes close and open every second, and he can’t sit still. Luckily, all the noise around of everyone talking, yelling makes him not fall asleep again.

[Name] undresses so lazily it almost looks like hes doing it asleep— almost even falling. Somehow he gets poorly dressed, and doesn't even try to tighten the straps around his legs correctly. His hair is a mess, his shirt is a mess, he’s drooling and he’s almost going to fall asleep again. But luckily, a blond passing trough sees his trouble.

"Need help?" [Name] slowly tilts his head and looks at him, trying to recognize him. Reiner can notice he is half-asleep still, and he can't stop a chuckle from seeing his sleepy state. "Damn, I think you are worse than Bertolt."

[Name] just stares a the blond kneeling and tightening his straps, "is as if... they don't want me to wake up,” he says in a whisper, yawning without care.

Blinking, Reiner stops his actions to understand what he means.  What he said came out of nowhere, and it was a couple of seconds what Reiner needed to understand. "They...?"

The [hair color] haired blinks, "I dreamed something important... but I forgot about it...”

[Name] stands up as he sees the blond finished, but Reiner can see his buttoned shirt is horribly done. "Here, you didn't button them right." The blond’s hands brushes against [Name]’s naked skin, making him flinch. The touch makes the taller teenager blush, but fortunately what happened before in training changed his semblance to change the topic, "ah, about what you said before..."

[Name] blinked, slightly tilting his head. "what?"

The blond blinks blankly, his mouth gaping. "In the forest, when we were doing our first practice with the gear," Reiner explains, "don't you remember?"

[Name] rubs his left eye without much care, "I didn't say anything— I just left...?"

"But you said—" He blinks, not fully believing him. But seeing [name]'s clueless expression makes him not say anything and leave things be, "...I guess I just imagined it, uh? It's nothing, then."

"If you say so." [Name] notices Reiner’s hands were frozen buttoning his shirt, and just stares at him curiously. “Are you alright?”

”Uh— yeah, sure. I was just...” he shows a grin, “trying not to lose my mind.”

”Uh?” [Name] takes Reiner’s left hand, seeing a small cut, “what’s this?”

The tall boy had to blink a couple of times to remember. ”Got a little trouble getting the hang of the gear. Nothing to worry about— or are you my cute nurse?” The blond tried to play it off— to try and have an embarrassing reaction out of [Name]. He expected the boy to yell at him or embarrass him— but what he got made him feel shy.

[Name] took his hand and kissed the small cut with his soft lips— as they were besides a window, the rays of the sun hit his gentle face, his hair... he seemed like a divinity— with those exotic eyes only Reiner could see with that spark, along with that kind smile; an expression so gentle Reiner thought [Name] never wore before.

”My mom told me kisses were a great medicine. Hope it works.” He rubs his hand gently, before letting go.

The taller teenager coughs, trying to hide his blush behind his hand. His eyes traveled around the barracks, being sure there were no prying eyes in their situation. “Well, well, I don’t have to worry anymore about my mistakes, then. I know where to go when I get injured.”

[Name] tilts his head. ”Did it work?”

”Of course it did— see? It seems to fade away.”

”[Name]!!!” Eren’s loud voice is heard coming near, but seeing the close proximity of the two stops with a suspicious glare, “ah? What’s up?”

”Reiner was helping me with my shirt— I’m too sleepy.” [Name] spoke with a big yawn, blinking lazily at his childhood friend.

The brunette frowns, not pleased by that answer. ”If you needed help why didn’t you tell me?!”

”I don’t know where you were. Reiner was nearer.” [Name] glared at Eren, who shut up seeing his harsh gaze. The blond clearly noticed the dominance, pretty surprised [Name] could have such effect on Eren. Reiner smirked.

”What’s this? Are you two together or something? Eren, you look like the clingy boyfriend in the relationship."

[Name] blinks, unsure of what he means. ”Together...?”

”Ah?! What’s with that?!” Eren blushed, clinching his fist, "that's none of your business, Reiner!"

"What? Man, I hoped after I helped you I would be given at least a little of gratitude."

"What if we are, uh?! Is that a problem!!!"

"Wow there, I didn't expect you to actually saying something like that," the blond laughs amused, “well, I can't say [Name] isn't cute, because he is." He plays with [Name]'s messy hair with a smirk, the other just watching the two with a confused stare.

"Hey! What are you getting at!?" The brunette frowns with the action— he didn't know why, but just seeing Reiner touching [Name] so carelessly touched a nerve.

[Name] dozed off, trying not to hear their voices anymore. The only thing he wants is to sleep— he doesn’t want to do anything else. Just thinking about another practice makes him whine. He misses his days with his mom.

Slowly and without the notice of the two, [Name] closed his eyes, still sitting on the bed awkwardly. His slow breathing and tiredness allows him to fall asleep so quickly, and it’s a miracle he sits still on the bed without falling.

”Come on– tell me! Has anybody ever kissed him?”

”Of course not!! Right, [Name]?!” Eren turns to get an answer, but his frown changes into confusion as he sees [Name]’s state. “[Name]?”

The blond catches his state too, noticing his sleeping state, “well, somebody will have to kiss the prince out of his curse.”

Eren glared at Reiner.

 ___________________

 ”I can fucking believe this— no way. Fuck Eren AND Reiner?! Really?!”

”Uh... Are you alright?” The freckled boy chuckles nervously, seeing his friend’s anger showing. "You seem... pretty angry...?"

Surprisingly, [Name] training hand in hand combat was much easier since the beginning. As his first practice with the ODM was a failure, plenty of his friends thought he wasn't that qualified at first. But Armin, Eren, Mikasa and Jean knew otherwise.

Unfortunately the way his new friends knew about it was with a good beating Reiner received.

"I'm going to be easy on you, [Name]. Does it sounds good?” Reiner smirked, passing the wooden knife to his hands. Seeing [Name]’s attitude and how lazy he was today, he decided to not be too harsh on him.

[Name] couldn’t care less about his kindness. He already liked this training — even if it didn’t even counted for their ranking, it wasn’t much trouble. Reiner could be bigger, but that didn’t matter. "If you are that considerate.”

When it came to fight, [Name] didn't even think how, he just did it. It was as if his body was being controlled by someone else— he just let his thought at ease and go with the flow. It was weird, but the boy often thought that was his older self waking up, if that made sense.

  Ṱ̴̨̱̙͖̠͖͙̣̲̫͂ͅXi̵̢̨̘͈̦͇͎͔͕̤̦͐̆͊ͅ!ş̴̖̰̩̯͋͛̓̀̂͌̑̂͒̇̕ ̷̛̮͓̙̹̪̮͎̈̋̆̐̿͑x$ë̵̢͎̻̞̬̣͔́̍̐̏͗͌͗̒̚͠͝ͅ ̶̡̟̺̍͐̊̈́̍̋̚ͅd̵͇̾͂͆͆́̔͊̏͋̉̌̒̚̕ę̵̛̰̲̣̋̍̽̔͆̽̋̑̆͌͘̕ͅs̶̥͈̈͑̇̐̔̓̚ẽ̷͚̄̋͊̌̊̅͝ͅr̵̳̙͔̳̅̏̓͒v̶̛̜̈e̵̳̹͍̽̄̒̈͌͌̓̋͑̄̃̔͆͊̀ş̶͔̤̹̬̽͋̾̒̂̇͑̈́ ̷͚̤͔̲͔̞͇͙̖̼̈̈̓ä̸̠̳̯́̆̈̊̓̏͒̔̈́̀́͗̉͝ ̸̧͙͍̫̖͍̖̖̟̖̺̰̞͕̅͂̌͐̋̾̇͐̃̽b̵̧̭͚̬̗͈̲͖̤͈̤͙̪͕̈́̔͊̑̀͝͠ͅe̴̞̫̫̾̍̐̊̈́͒̉̔̎̌͜͜͠͝ä̶̧̡̨͚͙͇̖̤̝͎̖̼̝͑͌͆̉̄͗͌ţ̵̢̛̣̣̗͉̜̤̦̼̼̯͌̆͐̃͋͐̽̃̄͂̈́̕̕͝ỉ̷̡̢̛͈͖̝̻͍͖̦͂̋̉̈́̆̿̄̚ṋ̶̺̤̮̬̫͔͖̏̽̃g̵̡̟̦͍̯̳̺͓͋̆̇̽̈́͠.̸̲̝̻̞̻̤̯̆̈́͂̈̔̀͒̍̆̈́͝ ̸̢̧̭̬̙̜̫̭͈̂̏̈͗̑͛̋̓̌͐̋̒͝L̷̡͖͗̓̇͐͊̓́̂͑͒̅̚̕͝e̴̺̻̮̞͐̇̈́̋̃̽͝t̸̨̥̩͚̟̊̑ ̷̡͕̰͉͎͎̝̠̹̳͕͇̓̎͊̏͠ͅḿ̸̢̲̫̺̙̀͑̑̔͆͐̿͋̃̋̂̈́̃̍ȩ̵̩͕̺̗̲̤̯͖̖̗̼͎̹̈̎ ̴͈̼͕̻̝͚͌͆̿̍̉͗̓͘͝ḧ̷͎̖͙̝́̅̃͗̓̂͜a̴̡̡̨͖̬̱̝̟̓́̌͐͛͛͝n̷̟̪̩͖̊̃d̸̡̡̻̘͎̰͍͈͌́̓̇̿̓̆̾̄̓̅͒̕ļ̷̨͙͇̮̩̮̆ͅę̸̧̡̰̟̭̺̙͙̹̞͚͉̈́̐́̚ͅ ̶̛͓̽̌̉̒̂̎̾͌̏̿̈͝i̵̡̫̳̭̟͚̰̖͔͠t̸̻͚̣̺͍̗̻͈̣̳͓̬̍̈͌̈́̈́̑̌̃̑͆̋͆́͝.̵̹͍̻̳̝͚̱͗̀̊̎̓̿͗͠

 The blond charged forward, trying to fake stabbing [Name] in the stomach without much plan. [Name] immediately hugged the arm with the knife, turning his back on Reiner and without much trouble throwing the blond’s body on the ground harshly. He took Reiner’s arm and placed his boot on his back, and just pulling a little he could hear the blond’s whimpers and defeat statements.

”Okay, okay! That’s what I get for being considerate?!”

”Yes,” he let go off his arm, helping him stand and dusting him off. “What if you take this more seriously from now?”

Reiner, who carefully looked at [Name], realized he did know about how to fight. Stretching, he smirked, feeling confident. “Alright then, I  guess I stop playing nice. But don’t cry and yell about getting a chance, uh?”

”I can say the same for you.” [Name] smirked.

Every time Reiner tried to attack [Name], it was a failure. The amnesiac never received damage— in fact, he noticed he reflected it, if that made sense. For example, Reiner tried to throw a punch, but [Name] always was a step ahead of him— he denied the hit by changing it’s direction with his wrist or his fist, not receiving the damage but evading it. It was the first time Reiner saw a technique like that.

Unfortunately for him, he got his ass kicked every round. [Name] didn’t seem to forget their promise about not giving chances, and even Reiner could say the lazy cadet was enjoying his defeat. [Name] didn’t even seemed to be tired after the many rounds they had, but maybe it was because Reiner was the one always getting his ass kicked.

 ______________

Armin watched in amazement, forgetting his own practice with Bertolt, "that's different when we were kids..."

The taller blinked, his eyes catching Reiner’s practice. The blond was face-planted on the ground, trying to get free from [Name]’s hold. "Uh? How so?"

The petite looks intently, choosing his words. "[Name] was... much harder before. But I guess that was because we were children and didn't know better," it was true— or maybe it was  because the victims of his attacks where Armin’s bullies, and [Name] hated them a lot, "even so, he doesn't look too much aggressive now."

"Harder...?" The taller can see [Name] is not holding back— or maybe Reiner is exaggerating? Nevertheless, [Name]’s technique looks clean and very defensive-like.

"Ah. He broke one's kid nose one time. Oh! and also, he made throw up another kid too and made him eat it.” Armin answered without trouble, not caring that much about how horrible that must have sounded.

Beetolt’s eyes widened, a little horrified by the brutality. [Name] didn’t look... as harsh as that. His past thoughts about imagining him as a kitten was now gone. He couldn’t properly imagine him in a scenario like that, but with Reiner easily being handled to the ground made him think it was possible. "Just... how much force did he have...?"

"A lot,” Armin chuckles a little, “Eren fought with him a lot and well... he can tell you how much it hurt, hehe..."

  ____________________

"W-Wait, [Name]! I surrender! I SURRENDER!"

"But this was just the beginning..." [Name] says with a pout, twisting Reiner's arm, "does it hurt?"

"Of course it does! I didn't think you would have this much force!”

"A kiss can make it better, if you want." He hugs the arm, rubbing his face on it while looking at Reiner with a twisted stare and a sick smile. The blonde can help but to gulp and blush by such hard look— he almost looked at him with playfulness. His eyes were so much different— Reiner felt he was looking at someone else. Now that he noticed, [Name]'s eyes had changed into a different color— but just as he was carefully looking at them [Name] blinked, as if he was waking from a daze. "Ah, sorry, Reiner," he lets go of the blond's arm, helping him stand with a much different manner.

”Did I hurt you?” [Name] asks, frowning as he passed a hand over his temples.

The blond blinks, trying to connect the dots of the unusual behavior. This was just like yesterday in the forest— that weird glint in his eyes... as if he wasn't [Name] no more. ”Uh, no, it’s fine.”

”Should I kiss it?”

Reiner laughs, trying to have fun, “now that I think about it... I think I got a bruise right here...” he points his cheek, and [Name] can see a scratch. Unbothered, [Name] pecks it, standing on his tiptoes. Reiner smirks, catching the glare both Jean and Eren gave in the distance.

The blond sees Annie passing with a bored look on her face trough the training grounds. [Name] waves at her with a ‘hi Annie’.

Reiner got an idea. “Annie! Good to see you again doing absolutely nothing!”

”Hmn? I see you want another round, Reiner.” Annie spoke with her cold voice, glaring at the taller as she got nearer.

”Not me! I heard [Name] saying he wanted to try you!” He places his hand on [Name]’s shoulders, making him closer to the girl as he hides behind him.

”...?” [Name] looks at him in confusion, knowing very well he didn’t say anything related to that.

”is that so?” The cold girl didn’t even waited for a confirmation— she just went straight to business. She had shifted in her fight stance.

Well, this didn’t sound so bad. [Name] blinked, hearing Reiner saying good luck as he left his side.

  F̸̛͔̰̕i̶̲͔̩̥͔̫̭̗̯̼̓́̒̿̓̊̿͗͘n̶̝̪̯̳̮̼̿̀̒͑̂̔̕͜ͅa̷̫͒́͑̌̈͘̕͝l̷̤̽̉̈́͗̽̄̔̍͘l̸̛͈̍̎͆̽̏͊̎̓̚͘͠y̸̢̼͙̜̠̬̘̘̟̲̮̫̟͍̏̇͋̔͂̀͐̏͆͒̐̊͐͝ ̶̛̳͓̩̱͒͊̉̊̉̿̾͆̾̍̌͝s̴̺̳̻͍̮͈̈́͘͜ȯ̷̧̠̹̝̩͍̹́m̵̢̯̱͍̬̰̘͕̝̆̽̾̓͑̔̕͝ě̶̖͔̘̙̙̾͐̕͜͝o̸̢͉̾̈̅̌̈́́́͋̏̓̿̂̂͗͠n̵̡̡̙̪͇̲͕̙̖̩̯͓̳̘̬̈̍̑̂e̷̡̛̼̹͚̼͕͉̪͆͂̊͊̆̈́̇̈̓̾̌͋̐̕ ̸̢͚̤͙̳͈̌̃̓̍̈́̏̀̏̀̎̋͗͜͝ͅc̶̢̺͚͚̗͔̤̓͂̾͊̒̀̈̐́å̴̡̢̲̫̥͙͕͎̫̯̬̰̱͚͛̊̊̎̔̃̔p̸̛̣̝͉̞̤̙̫̪͔̺͖̤̳̭̔͐̿̓͌͐̐̾̍̃̚ͅá̷̝͎̻̄b̸̛͉͉̼͖̰͊̚ḷ̵̨̮̹̝̈̑͑͗͐̑̚ě̶̡̨̨̙͍͉͇͎͚̞̗̹̀̅̋͂͊͜.̵̡̦͚̠͖́͋̊̇͛́̏͊͜

 [Name] shifted in his own, carefully looking at her. It somehow was clear to him she went all way in— her stance gave it away.

How come I know that?

The blonde girl moved first, lifting her leg to kick him. [Name] backed away quickly, missing the attack by inches. He doesn’t have to wait for the upcoming move— Annie throws a punch, [Name] deflects it with his wrist, switching the hit’s target. Seeing the opportunity, she quickly takes his elbow and harshly pushes the side of his face. [Name] knows her next move, and as just as he’s falling by the kick, he supports himself with his arm and gives a kick at the side of her ankles, making her almost trip. That’s enough time to allow him stand up again.

Annie returned to her stance, and just as in the beginning, tried to kick him— but this time [Name] saw it as an opening. This time he didn’t need to back off— he lowered his body just under her leg just in time, at the same time he threw a kick at the side of her knee. The attack had forced her to fall, by the surprise of everyone and her’s included. 

Watching her first was a good choice. That kick had to be timed right seeing Annie’s speed— one second less and his head would have been in a much worse state. [Name] couldn't explain his own reflexes and instincts guiding him— but it paid off nevertheless.

Something changed. Annie thoughts.

[Name]? throws the forgotten knife, stabbing it at the side of her head in the ground. There’s a cryptic glint on [Name]’s? eyes, along with a playful smile. He speaks in a different tone, clearly enjoying his victory. “You are dead.”

Annie gets up with a glare specially for him. Taking the knife, the cold girl tries to get her arms around his neck to make him fall, but [Name]? gets his arms under her to push her, effectively throwing her back. She doesn’t fall, but gets more aggressive in her attempts. She gives another quick kick, but [Name]? ducks and throws another kick against her leg, making her fall much harder onto the ground this time. He has a grin on his face, “twice.”

It’s clear Annie is irritated about his playful behavior— why is he smiling like that? Nevertheless about it, the blonde can actually say this was a nice fight for once. 

She sees how [Name] places a hand on his temples, rubbing them with his eyes tightly shut. Annie carefully looks at him as she stands up, dusting herself off. The amnesiac slowly opens his eyes, looking at her with much different eyes.

”Hope we can do it another time,” His voice is different, she notices. Narrowing her cold eyes, she can tell something is different about him— the near description she could tell was as if he became someone else entirely.

 She looks at [Name] then at Reiner, who was looking at the whole fight with careful eyes. She changes her gaze at [Name] again, shrugging her shoulders, “sure.”

Before she could leave tough, Annie turns to Reiner, ”Now, Reiner, I heard [Name] say you wanted another round.”

The blond instantly freezes in fright, not wanting to relieve that defeat. ”What?! That’s a lie!”

”[Name] doesn’t tell lies.”

Reiner was once again getting his ass kicked. [Name] couldn’t hold his laughter by seeing such absurd posture.

 ”What the hell is everyone doing?! Get back to training!” The instructor shouted, “change partners now that you are at it!”

 Neither of [Name] nor Jean took attention when they exchanged partners— just as they saw each other was when things got awkward.

”Hi, Jean,” [Name] was unsure on how to approach— he wasn’t good at fixing things. Even worse when he didn’t know what he  did wrong.

”...Hey,” Jean responded with a sigh, playing with the wooden knife. His face showed everything he was feeling— it was awkward, even more with the silence behind them.

Neither did anything else but evade seeing each other, but the amnesiac boy didn't want things to go like this. If he didn't know what he did wrong, then the only thing he could do was ask. Jean was angry for something he did— he realized that.

With a soft and curious tone, [name] looking at Jean a little timid, "did I do something wrong yesterday?"

He noticed Jean tightened his grip on the knife. Sighed exasperatedly, Jean still didn't look at him as he would wanted, but at least [name] got a motive of his anger. ”You can’t just... kiss everybody like nothing happens!”

So that was the problem? [Name]'s shyness went away when hearing such... motive. In fact, he was a little irritated by the reason. ”Why not?”

”Because—“ because what? It was wrong viewed? People would call him names? Would they think something else? Why was it wrong? He knew [Name] and him didn't had the same thoughts or opinions of things, but [name] should know kissing everybody wasn't something he should be doing. “Because a kiss means a lot to people— you can’t kiss everybody as a ‘friend’— that's not how it works.”

[Name] tilts his head. ”How come a kiss has one meaning?”

”Don’t get philosophical with me,” Jean said with a frown, “if you keep kissing everyone in public people will look at you being a weirdo, so don’t.”

”A weirdo...? But neither Reiner nor Eren tell me it’s weird...” He places his finger on his lips, wondering.

Sighing exasperated, Jean’s left eye twitched in annoyance by such statement, “because they are some dumbasses that—“ he stops himself there, “—they are weirdos, specially Eren.”

”How come?”

”He just is!”

“But Jean, no one has told me they don't like it. What do you mean?”

”That’s why I’m telling you before they do!” he rubs his temples, "they could be thinking for more, jeez!"

”Me kissing you makes you angry...?” [Name] unconsciously touched his lips, a frown showing.

Jean's confidence flatters, getting taken aback from the question. ”Yes— No— I mean—!” He sighed, “I don’t hate them. I...” he looks at the side,  blushing, “like them, okay?!” It's not that he hated them— he secretly loved them, but it was a thought nobody would know about. He could have [name] know, but since he didn't feel the same thing Jean felt for him, that was out of the question.

”Then why do you punch me away?”

“I told you– the others can see and look at us weird!”

”Do you care that much about what others think...?” [Name] wondered. He didn’t think about others opinions about him or what he did— he just... did everything he wanted without much thought. Was it wrong? Nothing had happened to him so far...

“It’s not that— ugh...” he sighs, “you are too careless. I’m telling you this right now: not everyone deserves to be kissed. You don’t know who is a weirdo. Imagine if someone took advantage of you by asking for more!"

”Advantage...”

”Exactly. You don’t know when somebody will ask you more than a kiss, and I cannot let that happen.”

“Is asking for more that bad?”

Jean blushed a little. Did [Name] really know nothing about this topic? Was he this clueless? Beatrice had to explain at least something about this— the woman should’ve, right? He was a teenager, for godsake! And teenagers are always thinking about the same stuff at least once in their short lives! Didn’t [Name] ever think about that type of stuff...?

"[Name], you know... when we talked about that..!"

"Oh, that. That when you talk about it your face goes red. That kind of conversation, that," [name] tilted his head, "...I don't think much about it."

"O-Okay! How else I should react anyways?! Ugh—! Just-- you know what to do when you don't want to do something like that, do you? If you mistake other's people purpose—!"

"I know. I punch them in the face-- but I only kiss people I like, Jean. Like you," he stared in gentleness at Jean, who only blurred words came out of his mouth, red creeping his face by the sudden declarations. But before he could answer, Shadis approached menacingly, shouting at them with a dead glare.”What the hell are you two doing?! You are standing there like idiots! Get back into training before I make you clean the entire place!”

”Y—Yes sir!”

_____________

Eren didn’t look pleased when he told him he was going to sit with Jean and Marco. The brunette gave away his displeasure with a frown, speaking with an irritated tone to him. To not make things worse, Armin, as being the sweetheart he was, smiled at him and told him to not worry about it that much. Just for that he won a kiss on the nose, making Eren yell why he didn’t receive one.

Already at Jean’s table, everything was going smoothly. But, for some strange reason, Jean spoke so loudly out of nowhere— It was an evident change to [Name]’s ears, making the boy narrow his eyes at him in suspicion.

”By manipulating your inertia like that, you’ll be able to spend less gas than usual,” he bragged to Marco, moving his hands while he talked.

”You make it sound easy...”

”Well, I don’t think that’s something everyone can do, you know?” [Name] notices Jean glances at Eren’s table, and it’s then that the boy can understand Jean’s purpose, “tough there’s nothing to lose if you keep that in mind. Especially if you want to enlist to the Military Police.”

Marco smiles dreamily, “it would be nice if I could... There’s no greater honor than to be able to work under the king, don’t you think so, [Name]?”

To [Name], the king was a faceless man he couldn’t care less about— unfortunately, Beatrice had told him to mind his mouth when talking about the powerful man around other people. The amnesiac boy couldn’t understand Marco’s dream to work under such a man who tried to cage all of them for eternity, but what he could understand from his books about royalty novels was that working and protecting a good king who cared about his people was a great honor. And this king had none.

”Not really.” He answered quietly, taking a sip from his drink.

”Don’t lie and say what you really think, Marco,” Jean said, carelessly pushing Marco’s cup against him, making it spill on Marco’s face and shirt, “you just want to enlist so you can live an easy and powerful life inside the inner walls.” He smiled devilish at him, and [Name] couldn’t stop thinking how crazy he could look sometimes.

”T-That’s not true! I—“ before Marco could finish, Eren’s voice interrupted Jean’s little show.

”It’s pleasant within the inner walls? Five years ago, this was also part of the inner area.”

While the two discussed whatever monologue they had in mind, the [hair color] haired turned to his freckled friend. “Be careful where you point at,” [Name] spoke to Jean in an angry tone, gently grabbing Marco’s chin as he cleaned his face with a napkin. The act made the freckled boy blush, “you got some on your clothes...”

”U–Uhm! Thank you, [Name]!” Marco stuttered, not expecting such caring action. Such caring made him felt warm in his chest, and gulped a little seeing how close [Name] was from his face. Were his eyes this pretty...? Marco! What are you thinking!

For some reason [Name] didn’t think much about what he did— he left a peck on Marco’s nose without care, “I saw the cup hit you pretty hard. Your nose is red.”

The freckled boy immediately covered his nose, clearly embarrassed by the unusual action, “I–It’s better now! Thank you!”

As the two smiled at each other, Eren’s yell took their attention from each other to him. The two had already stood up for a fight, evident by their angry expressions and hostile actions towards each other.

”You piece of garbage!”

”Just face reality!”

Both of them took each others’ shirt, and [Name] couldn’t stop himself to look disappointed at such behavior— he thought Eren grew up from such anger, but it did seem little had changed. Did we look that foolish back then? They certainly look like that...

For some reason Eren glanced his way, noticing such discouraging eyes staring at him in disappointment. That made his stomach revolt uncomfortably, not liking one a bit seeing that towards him.  He had to show [Name] he wasn’t the same brat as before— he was much matured since then. The brunette exhaled, trying to cool off as he let go of Jean’s shirt.

Of course, Jean noticed where his eyes wandered to— and he couldn’t feel more furious than before. What? Was he trying to show off he could control himself for [Name]? Fuck that. He was even more annoyed when he noticed [Name] blinking in surprise by such ‘control’, looking relieved. Jean didn’t fall for such act.

Taking Eren’s shirt even more harshly, he yelled at him, “don’t screw with me, you bastard!”

”Ah?! Hey, let go! You’ll tear my shirt, you dumbass!”

”Who gives a damn about your clothes! I’m so jealous!”

”What the hell are you talking about?!” It seemed Eren wanted to keep yelling at him, but he stopped himself from doing so. Instead, he quickly placed a hand on Jean’s face, took his fore arm and kicked the back of his legs.

[Name] frowned as he saw Jean fall onto the hard ground, but thankfully he didn’t seem to hurt his head that bad. Nevertheless, he wanted to make sure he was okay, but he wanted to give them the space of whatever they were doing. Eren seemed to make a point of his surprise attack, and so the amnesiac just observed in worry as he stood quickly.

He saw Jean sit, rubbing the back of his head. As he yelled for an explanation of such action, surely receiving a response from Eren.

[Name] was preoccupied of Jean’s state, but as Marco could see his worry he tried to calm him down with taking his hand, “[Name], I’m sure Jean is alright— it did seem like a bad fall, but I don’t think it’s too serious.” He smiled.

”It did sound pretty loud...” he frowned, squeezing Marco’s hand as he saw his friend. The freckled boy blushed a little by the action, smiling nervously at himself. “They are both idiots, uh?”

As [Name] wanted to see any damage, Marco yanked him to his seat, bumping into him a little as everyone saw the door open just a crack to see the scary face of Shadis looking at them with anger? It was hard to say, but it looked like a demon was staring at them in the depths of the dark.

”I heard a loud noise now. Care to explain what it was?” He spoke with a deep voice, staring deadly at everyone. Of course, nobody answered until Mikasa broke the silence,

“Sasha farted, sir.”

”UH?!” The unlucky girl widened her eyes in confusion and embarrassment.

”So it was you again,” the instructor covered his nose, “learn some modesty,” he spoke before leaving.

[name] couldn’t stop a chuckle from coming out. It was pretty quiet and soft— in fact, Marco was the only one who noticed it. His face reddened, staring at [Name] with timid eyes. It was the first time he had laughed like this, after all. [Name] was a serene individual, so any other reaction than his serious stare was well welcomed.

Marco didn’t notice he had his arm around [Name]’s waist, but it was when his friend wanted to move when he returned to reality. Feeling embarrassed even more, the freckled boy apologized many times and quickly moved his arm.

[name] blinked, not sure what was happening. Thankfully, Jean was returning to their table with annoyance plastered all over his face. [Name] stood up, now it was a good time to ask him how he was, “Where did you get hurt?”

”It’s nothing. That jackass all there trying to look cool, damn...” he rubbed the back of his head, “fucking embarrassing...”

The amnesiac boy could see his irritation— he could understand it. Being throw like that in front of everyone was upsetting, but Jean got out of control for some strange reason. Sighing, [Name] stood on his tip toes and kissed Jean’s head with caring, “that was a bad fall.”

The action only made Jean more embarrassed than he already was. ”Hnshsksjs! What did I told you about giving kisses like this?!” Jean whispered harshly, looking everywhere to see the smirks and mocking faces some did as they saw the curious interaction.  He blushed in embarrassment, “Goddammit [Name]—!”

Blinking, the amnesiac tilted his head and pouted, taking some steps backwards. ”Sorry, I forgot. Are you mad?”

Jean saw the wory fave [Name] was making, instantly changing his own anger to a simple frown. Was he being too harsh? The leqst he wanted to was to put distance between their friendship. He sighed exasperated, “no, I’m not. I’m not mad, okay?! So stop looking at me like that.” He rubbed his face, “anyways, are you sleeping with that suicidal maniac or what?”

”Suicidal...? Eren?” He blinks, amused by such nickname, “I don’t think so. Why?”

”B—Because—“ because I want to. He wanted to say, but no words came out. Jean gritted his teeth, rubbing his neck in shyness. Why he couldn’t ask him like a normal question?

Oh, of course. Because he was asking the person he likes— not just an ordinary person.

Fortunately [Name] understood the silence. “Do you want me to be with you?” He whispered gently, aware of Jean’s embarrassment towards his actions.

The taller didn’t see [Name] straight in the eye. His eyes stare at the wall, while he nodded slowly, flustered. If Eren was all mighty sleeping with him, then why the hell he couldn’t? I have the same RIGHT!!! 

“Then can we go now? I’m pretty tired,” [Name] yawned, passing a hand trough his face. Today was a good day— but it was still tiring. He just wanted to get to bed and sleep all day. “In fact, I’m leaving whether you want or not.” He stated, already walking away.

”W—Wait! You can bump into doors if you walk with your eyes closed!!” Marco yelled worriedly, already knowing [Name]’s sleepy behavior by now. 

“You are such a dummy,” Jean says, walking calmly while Marco hurries to help [Name].

“I can tell your fights with Eren will be for long.” [Name] places his arm under the side of his face, blinking lazily at Jean. The two boys laid on Jean's bed, looking at each other as they talked. The lights were already turned off, but many others still talked under the darkness. 

Jean grits his teeth. “It’s not my fault he’s such an idiot trying to act all brave and shit. He just tries so badly to be seen as cool, the fucking maniac.”

[Name] blinks. “Fucking.”

Jean blinks, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment by hearing his friend cursing, ”...why did you say it?”

”You said it. Fucking. Fuck. Shit. Cu—“

Hastily covering his mouth with his hand, Jean sighs exasperated, “don’t say all of them, geez! What are you trying to say?!”

[Name] chuckles, “you have a bad mouth. These words are not on many books I’ve read— oh, I forgot suck my co—“

He covers it again with more force this time, “shut the hell up!” Jean whispers angrily, “you are such an idiot when you want to!”

[Name] takes Jean’s hand, placing it on their dad as he interlaced their fingers. “Just showing you how childish you look.”

”I don’t care. I bet he was the one making you believe on that crazy dream he has.” In fact, hearing Eren’s ideals and dreams did made him realize he was the one at fault to make [Name] join the Survey Corps. There wasn’t anything else, since both of them had been together for quite some time. No wonder that blond boy and the pretty girl wanted to join with him. “Fucking hell. Doesn’t he know other people will believe his bullshit?”

”It’s not bullshit,” [Name] speaks, “if he dreams about it, it’s not impossible. You dream to join the Military Police, even when we are more than 100 soldiers here.”

”That’s different— I want to be in top ten, not to eliminate all titans. That will never happen— if that hasn’t happen before, after 100 years, what will he change when he graduates? Fucking nothing.” Jean couldn't believe [Name] actually had faith in such a fever dream— exterminate all titans? If the Survey Corps have been active for years and hadn't got a single clue of what titans were and where they came from, how would someone like Eren do the job? It was impossible.

[Name] sighs, not happy to hear such pessimism. He believed in Eren— things could be changed. He... just did. 

  I͛̄́ͣ͆ͨͫ͏̬̜͇!̱̪̯͖͚̒͒̆̔͊̎ͩ̚͘͠ ̮͍̹̪̻̝̤ͫͨͪ̓0̨̊̓ͬ̄̆ͨ҉͖̞̱̼̭͉̘ͅͅn̎ͩ͐ͣ̋҉̪͖̲͖̕x͋̌̑ͧ͢͏̳͕̘̣̰̠̞x͊ͧ͊҉̹͍̱ͅͅỹ̺̮̮̜͈͈̎̍ ͎̰͇̲̺ͧ͛̍̕͝/̺̩̻͍͕͗͛̊͑̂̍͟ö̡̠̭̻̪ͤ̆ͬͮ͐̏̓ͅu̜͇̻͖͕̹̦̤̽̊̉ͫ͞ ̩̊ͧ̓̾ͬ̄̅̚͞k̷̟̝̙̗͖͓̯ͫ͆͠n̨̮̞̪̗̣͒̿̃͘͡#̡̻̯̦̩̤̪̙͓̑ͪ͊!̦̖͚̖̖͖͙̹̱̽ͯ͛̕͢͝x̝̹̥̹̤̣̝̋̂̑̿͐ͪ̌ ̦͖̟̣̤͐͑̑̽̅̒ͤ̈̕x̮̱̣̞̳̖̟͆͂ͬ̊ͩͨ̅ͭx̸̺͈̩̲͇̞ͨ̄̓́͆̅̚͡x̶̫̜̘̥͇̱͕̘ͭͥ͂͊̌͊ͅx͔̲̽͋̓ͤ̿̽͊͟͡ ͔̬̲͚̉ͯ̃͗w̧̟̪͌ͮ͒͠͞i̸͓̰ͬ̔̾̐ͫ̀́͑l̵̲̗̘̯͙͈̀͒̽̈́͐̑ͭͮ͞ͅl̬͍̈́͌ͫ̆̏͝ ̦̳̥̼̹̹̎̄͌͢h̿̊̐̒͏̫̼͎͇͍ͅ!̩̼͙̮͙̠̹͒̔̐ͦ̅#̨̦̙̞̞̞̖̞ͪͤ̾ͧͫ̾ͭ̑p͍̞̼͈̖͎ͩ̿̉̃͂͜$̩ͧ͟͠x͇̜̫ͮ̔̇͝ņͥ҉͇̝̲̼̬̟͈ͅ.̭̱̔͗ͧ͟͠

 “And you joining after him... what the hell are you thinking?” Jean spoke more to himself than to [Name], frowning. Even after knowing for some time he would join the Survey Corps, Jean still couldn't grasp that absurd idea.

[Name] leaves a kiss on Jean’s cheek, staring at him when he breaks it, “you don’t have to worry that much.”

”Easy for you to say,” he sighs, “aren’t you... upset?”

He blinks. ”For what?”

”Thinking about when we graduate. I feel I’m the one only suffering here, you heartless dummy.” Jean grits his teeth.

He did felt sadness— not being with his friends anymore made him felt... a little scared. “...I get upset.”

Jean bits his lip, averting his gaze, looking like a pouting child. ”Doesn’t look like it.”

[Name] places his arms around Jean, while the taller guy instantly wraps his arms around [Name]’s form. The amnesiac boy rests his head on Jean’s chest, smelling him and hearing his heartbeat. Jean blushes, biting his lower lip. Secretly smelling [Name]’s hair, the boy closes his eyes while enjoying the sweet scent, calming himself a little.

“I get sad thinking about how we won’t see each other again after that. I care a lot about you, Jean. Times like these are to be treasured while we can, don't you think?"

Jean blushes, narrowing his eyes in sadness. He didn’t want to let go ever— he wanted this night to be forever. Why was [Name] this stubborn? Why he couldn’t go with him inside the walls? With him? He understood his reason to go to the Survey Corps, but he had to understand nothing good would come out of it. He should be to the Military Police with him.

”There’s still time to change your mind.”

”I can say the same to you.”

Jean sighs, “why are you this stubborn?”

[Name] can sense Jean is upset. He moves his head to look at Jean, who only stares at him curiously. The amnesiac boy closes the gate between them, placing a soft kiss on Jean’s lips. The taller boy really didn’t expect such action, as [Name] felt his grip around him tightening, hugging him closer as he reciprocate the gentle kiss. He didn’t want to finish it, but eventually they did. 

While Jean’s face was as red as a tomato, [Name]’s remained the same, but a small tint of red decorated his face. 

WhatthehellWhatthehellWhatthehellWhatthehell—

”Everything will turn out alright,” he spoke with a small smile, “let’s make a promise.”

[Name] showed his pinky, “no matter what happens, we will see each other."

Jean doesn't want to do that promise— if he does, then [Name] going somewhere he can't follow will become real. He doesn't want to. But then seeing that smile just for him... [Name] always kept his promises— they were serious stuff to him, specially pinky promises for some reason.

"If you do a pinky promise and you broke it, you had to swallow 1000 needles. I read that in a book!"

[Name] still had so much to learn, but everything he read he believed it. He could be such an idiot sometimes... Jean didn't want to stop seeing that smile, hearing whatever he wanted to explain to him about what he learned. Was that fate? Everyone going to their own paths was inevitable since the beginning, and Jean was fooled to believe he could change [Name]'s mind and go with him.

Reluctantly, Jean made the promise. Locking his pinky with [Name]'s, both of them confirming vowing. Jean knew that was such an embarrassing thing to do, but being under the darkness where everyone were in their own business made him able to do it. And also, if he didn't vow then the promise wouldn't be serious, and [Name] wouldn't like that one a bit.

Such a childish cute guy. And dumb.

[Name] smiled once more, hugging Jean closer. He murmured something Jean didn't hear, but he guessed he wanted to sleep finally. 

Jean hugs him closer, frowning. He grits his teeth, resting his cheek on [Name]’s head. What will I do when you are not there? What then?

[a-fanatic-fangirl-requests]

I'm so glad you write for Gaara as well! For my request I was wondering if I could request a bit of angst but with a good ending. When they have a day off, he and his s/o are working in their shared garden together when suddenly s/o gets bitten by a snake that was hiding between the plants and they need to get rushed to the hospital because of the poison. They do get better, luckily and maybe Gaara helps them rehabilitate? Thank you in advance!

So, now that I’m actually answering this, I admit it may not be as angsty as I would have liked it. But…I still think it’s a cute one with a good ending! I hope you like it! I also made the reader gender neutral in this one since it was a bit easier to do than some of my other ones.

As Beneath, So Above (Gaara x Reader)

Warning(s): Angsty, poison, injury, I dunno

Word Count: 2,263

An annoyed groan filled the air of the lush rooftop garden. You had attempted to hang a potted plant on a post, but it was just out of your reach, even with your (H/F) stature. But as soon as the annoyed groan was about to pass your lips, the soft sound of sand moving surrounded you. Glancing down, you saw sand gathering to give you that extra height you needed. “Thank you, Gaara.” You hummed as you hung up the plant, turning it a bit to be exactly how you wanted it. The sand eased you back down onto the ground and you had turned to your husband. “Thanks for not watching me struggle. I’m sure Kankuro would have had a good laugh.”

“I’m not my brother.” He said softly, carefully pulling any weeds that had somehow managed to get up there.

“I know, I know. That’s why I married you after all.” You said, walking over to take sit next to him, the faintest tinge of pink dusting his cheeks.

“And I am grateful.”

You leaned over and placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Me too. Especially since you took the day off.”

“We both needed it.” He replied, his focus still on the care of the garden he made for the two of you. Coming from Konoha where things were considerably more lively in terms of vegetation compared to the desert in Suna, Gaara thought it would be a nice wedding gift to give you and that the both of you could take care of.

However, with water scarce, it was hard to keep the plants properly watered. That’s why you opted for more rugged plants that could withstand going without water for a while if something happened. But, you had set up an irrigation system that pulled water from underground. This system eventually became implemented throughout the village, effectively ending any possible water shortage. It was the rule though, that water still be used in moderation if possible.

It was this work that you were taking a break from. You were almost done with it too and as to celebrate, Gaara suggested to rearrange the garden a bit.

Much better with your mind, tools, and hands, you were no ninja—but still prideful in getting things done yourself. But when it came to lifting heavy loads, that’s where Gaara came in. His sand, and sometimes himself aided you greatly. He could move and change soil far easier than you could, so you let him.

“(F/N)?” A quiet voice asked, making you jump a little. It seems you spaced out under the warm sun and leaning on your husband’s shoulder.

“Yes?” You asked, looking back at him with wide (E/C) eyes.

He pointed a pale finger near where the door of the roof was. “Would you mind planting those flowers? The weeding is taking longer than expected.” It always took longer than expected, not that it was a bad thing. Gaara made sure that no weed had even a chance to pop up if he had anything to do about it. He couldn’t let it ruin the hard work the both of you have done.

Nodding your head, you ran your hands over your (H/T) (H/C) hair. The wooden crate the potted flowers sat in didn’t seem too heavy. Although, it took you a moment to lift them up after some much-needed self-encouragement. Taking them over to a corner and setting them down, you had to smile a little at how wonderful your life was and basked it all in.

Gaara’s gaze had been on you when he noticed you struggle to pick up the box. He sometimes forgot that you didn’t have the strength of shinobi—after all, working day in and day out with them makes it hard to remember not everyone was one—so he was about to get up and help you before you lifted it up and slowly made your way to one of the empty corners. A smile graced his features as he watched you, (S/C) skin illuminated by the desert sun, the gentle breeze ruffling your (H/L) hair, he was so glad he literally ran into you all those years ago.

He turned back to his weeding task to give you your peace and let you accomplish the task yourself.

You gently removed the flowers from the pots, crumbling the soil away a bit to break up the packed roots after having dug a small hole for the flowers to be placed in. One by one, you did this until you picked up one of the pots, it felt a bit heavier than the other ones. Shrugging it off, you stuck your fingers around the edge of the soil to loosen it before you pulled it out.

All was going well until you felt a sharp sting to the top of your hand, making you recoil and drop the clay pot, it shattered against the ground.

The sudden noise made Gaara turn around, wanting to make sure you were ok. However, the moment he saw a snake slither away into one of the bushes made his heart drop.

“Gaara? I don’t…feel so good….” You mumbled.

He immediately appeared beside you, taking your hand in his to examine it. The puncture wound was quickly turning purple and your shivering form and the snake’s appearance made him fear the worst: poison.

The Kazekage picked you up in his arms and jumped off the roof, letting his sand rush him to the medical center. You would be ok. You had to be. “Stay awake. We’re almost there.”

You did your best to nod. “I’ll try.” You whimpered, tears forming in your eyes at how fast the pain was spreading. It felt like your veins were on fire. His hold on you tightened the more you began to shiver and pant. “Who knew…something so small…could be so strong?” In a situation like this, you had to do your best to try and laugh it off.

Gaara had given you a look as if you had gone mad. How were you being so calm? “I…suppose that is the case.” He answered back, still not liking how your body was reacting to the poison at all as it tried to fight it off.

He quickly made his way into the hospital, with everyone from ninja, nurses, and the injured or ill stopped what they were doing to look at the worried Gaara. It wasn’t everyday that the Kazekage appeared, much less looking so concerned.

He quickly kept walking, nearly running, past the admittance area as he knew where he was going and what needed to be done. There was a poison specialist that would surely be able to help you. Gaara had one trained due to the amount of different poisons people come across in the area.

The specialist was a little shocked as well to see the ninja leader but let them lay you on a bed. By now, your body was covered in sweat and shivering even worse. He looked towards the doctor as he knelt and held your non-injured hand. “Help them.” He commanded, to which they immediately went over and examined the darkened puncture wound.

“It’s good you brought them here when you did. This is a nasty poison.” They went to their shelf and began to quickly mix a concoction.

As they did, your vision began to blur a bit as you looked towards Gaara. His hands trembled in yours and you gave a small chuckle. “It’s ok. I’ll be just fine.” You told him to which he squeezed your hand harder.

“How can you know?” Of course, he wanted you to get better. But, he couldn’t have someone lie to his face if it wasn’t the truth.

You shrugged as the specialist hurried over, “I just know.” Gaara helped you sit up as he took the glass of an odd green color.

“Have them drink this, it’ll help expel the pois—” That was all he needed to hear, and he all but immediately raised it to your lips and had you down it. You nearly gagged because of the horrible taste and from how fast he was trying to get it in your system.

Once it was empty, you panted a little and looked up at your husband. “I said I would be fine.” You breathed out, feeling the shivers slowly subside. Turning back to the relieved specialist—who definitely did not want to be responsible for the death of the Kazekage’s spouse—did you ask, “So, how will this get expelled?” As if on cue, you felt bile reach the back of your throat and you lurched to the side to see the specialist ready with a pail that you quickly vomited into.

“It essentially pulls the poison from your body, concentrating it in your stomach while being suspended in the liquid.” They were cut off once again as more vomit spilled from your lips, a soothing hand beginning to rub your back. “It will be a while until it subsides.” They took the hand where the puncture wound was. “However, the hand and arm may need some special attention.”

“What do you mean?” Gaara asked, continuing to rub your back as he sensed another round about to happen.

“Well, the poison injured the muscles, making them a bit stiffer. They’ll need help and physical therapy as well.” You groaned as another spell hit you, making you empty your stomach again. “I’m sorry, but that’s still the best case scenario.”

Gaara nodded in understanding. In your line of work, you needed to use your hands on a daily basis. But…it was far better from him losing you. “Thank you. We will get on that as soon as we can.”

The poison specialist smiled, letting you hold onto the pail as they got the rest of their lunch and left the room. It seems it was their lunch break and you happened to interrupt that—for a good reason though.

Tears had long formed in your eyes, both from expelling the poison through your mouth and how you would be out of work for a while. “What am I going to do?” You whimpered, slouched over the pail.

“I’ll help you through it.” Gaara said without a question of a doubt. “I’ve had to go through several muscle injuries and physical therapy from my training. I’m well-versed enough to help.” Plus, there was no way he was going to let someone else try and help. Seeing as no one else was in the room, he crawled behind you, his legs on either side of yours and his frame supporting you. He took your hand and indeed noticed how stiff it had become, along with the rest of your arm. His pale fingers intertwined with yours, pulling them outwards and holding for a few seconds while you hissed in pain. “I know, I know. But we cannot let this sit. It will only be worse if we do.” He then pressed down, letting your fingers ball into a fist. He did this a few times until you emptied your stomach again. “We will stop with that.”

You gave a breathy laugh, leaning against his chest. “You think?” You smirked, knowing that what you’re experiencing was no where near the pain he has felt from his time as a ninja. But, you weren’t one and your pain tolerance was different. Thankfully, Gaara knew and understood that.

“Do you feel like there is any more?” He asked, rubbing your back after having vomited a couple more times.

Shaking your head, your (H/C) tresses brushing against him, you replied, “I think I’m done.”

Gaara smiled and nodded, setting the very full pail aside and picking the both of you up off the bed. “Let’s head home.”

You gave a tired nod before your eyes went wide. “Wait! The garden!” A shocked stare was what you got in return. “What?” You asked.

Your husband sighed and placed a gentle kiss to your head. “You and your priorities,” he muttered, pulling the window open and opting for leaving that route instead of going out the front doors and towards prying eyes. “You need to take care of yourself, (F/N).”

Snuggling your face into his neck, “I will, because I know you won’t let me out of your sight till I’m better.” He hummed in agreement, proud to accept that he wouldn’t completely abandon his spouse in their time of need.

Placing another kiss to her head as they floated back towards their home, the sun setting casting a peaceful glow over the Sand Village, he breathed a sigh of contentment. “You’re my most privileged responsibility. As much as I love them, you are above my siblings; above the village.” He motioned to the buildings under him. “All because you said ‘yes’. I will take care of you, forever and always.”

You blinked up at him, your (E/C) eyes wide. Slowly, color began to tinge your cheeks as you all but teared up at the confession of love he gave. “I love you, Gaara. Thank you for giving me this life.”

Even though he wanted to interject and ask how it was good that he let you get injured by a snake of all things, that could wait for later. Raising you up a bit, he kissed your lips and lingered for a moment. “No, thank you for giving me someone to love, and be loved back.” He whispered against them, knowing that you will completely be all right.

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Multi-Dimensional pt. 4

The Company x Reader

More humor, some spider stuff, some yelling, stealing, and lots-a fun.

---

Things all kinda just went back to normal after you had that long talk with them. 

Not completely back to normal since it seems they've become more sensitive and caring towards you, but normal enough to where you don't feel out of place or super awkward like you did before. 

Everything is easy enough now that things are cleared up about Erick. And though there has been some disdain regarding you leaving out by yourself and such after scaring them with the information that he wants to kill you, you don't feel suffocated or anything. 

All it really takes is some assurance that you won't be completely by yourself and will be keeping an eye out, and then they're reluctantly agreeing to letting you go (not that they really have a choice in the matter or anything like that). 

A part of you finds it sweet actually; how much they worry when you have to go out on grocery runs or to drop off and pick up animals by yourself. 

Having others around to care for you makes things so much easier and life feel better. It's almost like having an army of short moral supporters ready to assist you when you need it and worry for you when no one else will. 

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that it feels really flipping nice.

Aside from that, though, you generally like to consider yourself to be pretty brave now that you've started to free your mind from the clutches of that little bitch Erick. Like, you're good with all kinds of animals including big reptiles, poison animals, and pointy-teethed critters, and human interaction is slowly becoming easier... but there is one thing that you don't think you'll ever be able to get over. 

And that thing is spiders. 

The first time they noticed your fear of spiders, you were outside feeding your horses. One second you were filling up the water trough, and the next you were jumping 5 feet in the air and screaming your head off. 

Naturally, the dwarves helping you out panicked and pulled out various weapons and began asking you questions like, "What's wrong?", "What is it?", "Is that man back?", "Did you hurt yourself?", and your personal favorite, "Who do I need to kill!?" At the time you couldn't bring yourself to be funny or to joke around for you were too filled with terror to form any rational thought.

When you didn't respond to their questions they began to worry, but when you raised a shaky finger and pointed at the big yellow and black garden spider hanging on it's web a few feet away they understood. 

Of course, those spiders are harmless so Nori (one of the dwarves with you) walked over and took it into his hand and moved it somewhere else away from you. 

Only once it was gone did you speak again, but the words were not of gratitude, "If you ever touch me with your spider hands,��ever, I will fucking gut you!" You had threatened, pointing at the well meaning dwarf with an accusatory finger, "Thank you! But oh my god, ew."

You were promptly and mercilessly teased for this occurrence, and while it was quite the humiliating line of joking at your expense, they were all much more considerate towards your fear of spiders. 

None of them even dared to explain or bring up the huge spiders that thrive across their own world. 

Anyway, this crazy fear of spiders has only come up a handful of times in the recent week luckily for you, but that's all about to change. 

When you first see that hairy beast of an arachnid, you aren't quite sure what it is. It isn't moving and is in the corner of your kitchen kinda just hanging out, but when you step closer to see what exactly it is, you are very unpleasantly surprised to see that it's a small tarantula. 

You jump and run away from it at full speed, jumping up onto the table next to one of the entryways as you stare it down to make sure it doesn't move towards you or out of sight. 

You aren't quite sure how long you're there, staring and panicking on the inside, until someone walks into the room and sees you kneeling on the table. 

With a quick glance you see that it's Thorin who decided to join you, and when he sees you his eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

"What on earth are you doing?" He asks, stepping closer towards the table to look at you closer. 

"This is my house, so I can sit wherever I want, thank you very much." 

There is a moment of silence where he just looks at you before, suddenly, he sighs and asks, "Where is the spider?" 

"It's over by the corner. Please kill it-" You look back over towards said corner and feel your stomach drop when you don't see the little bugger anymore. "Oh god, no. No, no no..."

You start to look around frantically in search of the small creature and feel your insides fill with panic when you still don't see it. 

Thorin walks over to the corner you indicated and looks around, not seeing said spider either. "Are you sure you saw one over here?" 

"Y-Yes! I'm 100 percent sure! No, 1 million percent sure!" You exclaim, looking around still to locate it. 

Something compels you to look down at the edge of the table, and when you do you're met by 8 black, soulless and evil eyes staring straight back at you. 

At first, you don't react, but once your mind catches up with your eyes you scream and recoil, scooting back towards the opposite end of the table. 

The spider crawls up onto the surface of the table and stands on the opposite side as you staring still with murder in it's eyes (probably). 

Thorin spins on his heel and curses under his breath, mentally rolling his eyes at your theatrics, and rushes over, "Calm down-" 

"It's trying to kill me!" You cry.

When it begins to scurry forward you shriek again and move to scramble back further, only to find that there's no more runway, and before you know it you're falling backwards off the table. 

Instead of hitting the tiles like you expected you would, a pair of arms wrap around your middle and a harder body breaks your fall. 

Normally one would be thankful for being saved from falling on the ground, but your focus is still on that evil spider trying to fucking kill you. You try to scoot back more but find that whoever was nice enough to catch you is still holding on and in your way. 

The hold on you loosens when you begin to struggle, and you take that opportunity to crawl off of said person and hide behind them when they sit up. 

You get a face full of blond braided hair and realize right away that it's Fili, but you don't thank him and instead place your hands on his shoulders and stay hidden behind him while Thorin tries to kill the quick little bastard running around your table. 

"Stay still damn it!" The king growls at the spry little monster, smacking a spatula you left on the counter around the table multiple times. 

"If you don't get that spider so help me god I will fucking kill myself!" You shout, ignoring the way the blond stiffens beneath your sharp fingers. 

It seems your words have encouraged Thorin to work harder, because seconds later the tarantula is smashed and the room goes silent save for the heavy breathing of the raven-haired dwarf and your own. 

"Oh thank god." You breathe, letting go of the blond and slowly rising to your feet. "I really thought I was gonna die there for a sec..."

"It's just a spider." Thorin sighs, placing the spatula down on the table a bit harder than he intended.

The slam of the utensil on the wooden table top makes you flinch unconsciously, but you don't say anything about it. "It was a tarantula! Those bitches are horrifying! And it was chasing me, you can't say it wasn't." 

Thorin doesn't say anything else about it and instead sighs while shaking his head, looking at his older nephew with an odd expression on his face. 

You ignore the silent exchange and zoom out of the kitchen to sit with Midnight and Mittens who are hanging out on the couch, scooping up the latter into your arms to hug her tightly. 

After your screeching and screaming a lot of them came tumbling out of wherever they were before to see what was going on, but it didn't take much to realize this was another spider incident. 

You ended up kidnapping Mittens and bringing her out to the front porch to unwind after almost losing your life to that foul arachnid, and as soon as you were out of the room Thorin pulled his blond nephew aside with a grim expression on his face. 

"You heard what she said, yes?" The King Under the Mountain asks in a hushed voice so as to not alert anyone else. 

Fili nods his head, looking out towards the window that you sit in front of. "I did. I never thought she would do something like that over a spider, though." 

"Maybe it was another one of her odd jokes?" Thorin supplies hesitantly, crossing his arms over his chest, "I will ask." 

"What if it bothers her or makes her unhappy?"

"Isn't that better than ignoring it?" 

Fili doesn't respond this time. Though he's unhappy about it, he knows his uncle is right so he doesn't say anything else about it. 

"Then it's settled." 

---

Thorin didn't go out to speak to you right away. 

It's around 5 or so minutes later when he finally go out, and when he does you're in the same position. Sitting on your long porch swing with Mittens laying idly on your lap. 

As soon as you look at him your face goes red; that whole fiasco with the spider was beyond embarrassing. 

"Thorin... hey, what are you doing out here?" You mumble, looking away from him and out at your land instead. 

Instead of responding he steps closer and gestures to the spot next to you, "May I sit?" 

You nod. 

He settles down onto the porch swing and leans back against the support while it slowly sways back and fourth, still not saying anything. 

Mittens climbs off your lap and hops onto him as soon as he takes a seat, and while that does make you pout, you don't say anything about it. 

"I have a question for you."

You turn your head and look at him only to see is gaze is already trained on you. "Um, go for it." 

"What you said in the kitchen before about, how would I say... offing yourself over the spider, it was a joke, yes?" 

Oh shit.

You forgot that they aren't accustomed to such humor, so you probably worried them, "Yeah, I was only kidding. Sorry, I forget sometimes that you guys aren't use to that kinda thing..." 

Thorin visibly relaxes and strokes the top of Mittens head gently, "Okay, good. I thought as much, but Fili and I were not certain." 

"Sorry about that..." Gosh, you always manage to confuse and distress them somehow. 

"You apologize for every little slight, you know. How many times do I need to tell you such apols is unneeded?"

God damn it. 

"O-Oh, right, sorry-" You cut yourself off and repeat, "No, no sorry I didn- shit. I'm sorry! Er, or I'm not sorry, um..." You feel yourself getting more and more flustered as you go down the rabbit hole of apologies, "Sorry-" 

He begins to laugh when your speech runs away from you and places his hand overtop yours, thus abruptly halting your frantic sorries. "Calm down. It's only me." 

You only nod dumbly, looking down at his hand on yours with a slightly warm face, "Yeah, er, you're right. I just got a bit flustered. I'm-"

He gives you a look so you refrain from voicing your regrets this time. 

After 30 seconds or so of this slightly awkward silence he releases your hand and relaxes against the moving seat with a small smile on his face. 

The two of you stay like that for a little while until he suddenly scoops up Mittens and rises from his spot, "I shall go in first." 

Without another word he heads back in, successfully stealing Mittens and leaving you rather speechless for no discernible reason.

---

Later you end up inside once more and see some of the dwarves huddled around your coffee table eating something Bombur no doubt made for them, and it brings a small smile to your face to see them so engrossed in their food.  

You nearly trip over Copper who was waiting by the door for you, and as soon as you see him you kneel down and start to rub his belly and coo about how cute he is. 

After you're done doting on your fluffer, you stand back up and head back into the kitchen to get something to eat, smiling when Copper gets up to follow you. 

Going through the fridge, you can't help but to toss your loyal boy some ham and grab a chilled apple practically calling your name. 

You walk back out of the kitchen and see that Dwalin glaring at you. 

At first you thought he was glaring at someone behind you, but when you look over your shoulder you see that there's no one there. You look back at him again and slowly point at yourself, confusion clear on your face. "Um, hi?" 

He just continues to glare, his gaze flickering down to the apple you just took a bite out of. 

"Dwalin?" You question, taking a few steps forward closer to him, "Everything okay there buddy?" 

"So we're takin' food we didn't put in the ice box now, are we?" He grumbles in a very passive aggressive manner. 

Oops. 

Instead of owning up to it you just play dumb. "What?"

His glare intensifies, and you nearly feel intimidated by him. "You find it funny, eh?" 

"What funny? I have no clue what you're talking about." Just to irk him you take another bite out of the apple afterwards. 

His eye twitches and he gets up from his spot on the couch, "You know exactly what I'm talking about." 

"Hey, woah, stop being so passive aggressive." You shoot back, furrowing your eyebrows. 

Dwalin shakes his head and retorts with irritation in his voice, "I'm not being passive aggressive." 

"You're not? Then what would you call it?" 

He wastes no time in answering. "Agressive." 

This time you don't respond and just look him in the eyes as you slowly lift the apple to your mouth and take another bite. 

"Damn it! I put that apple in yer ice box last night and ya just took it! No effort on yer part. Benefitting from my work!" He complains loudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"My mouth slipped." You reply lamely, walking over and plopping down on the couch. 

"Yer mouth slipped? What kind of excuse is that?!" 

You shrug your shoulders and continue to eat the apple, ignoring his protests and yelling now. "Wow, these are so much better when they're cold." You comment offhandedly and very slyly, glancing at him with a small smirk curling on your lips. 

He only starts to rage and yell more. Ranting about how it was selfish and rude and all that jazz, while you and everyone else just watch and listen in amusement. 

"Are you even listening?" 

You don't respond for you've begun to write something on the back of your hand, and when you look back up there are quite a few pairs of eyes trained on you awaiting your response. 

"Huh? I wasn't listening, what did you say?" 

"Women!" He grunts out angrily, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. 

"Hey! Be nice to me or I'll show you the back of my hand!" 

Your threat of violence gives everyone a pause and you get several wide eyed, shocked looks, but you pay them no mind and, once everyone is looking at you, raise your hand up slowly to reveal your writing. 

In big, black sharpie ink letters it says 'Please be nice to me.'

That's what you were writing while Dwalin was scolding you on and on, and as soon as everyone reads what it says there is laughter.

A big smile comes onto your face when they start laughing, even Dwalin seems amused, and you follow suit quickly after. 

"Were you planning that the whole time?" Bilbo asks after his chuckling subsides, a big smile on his happy face.

"No, which only makes me an even bigger genius." You reply smugly, dropping your hand back into your lap and taking another bite out of the stole apple. 

"It doesn't matter! She still stole my food." 

"Hey, if we're being technical here you're actually stealing my food." You comment, patting Coppers head with your foot since he decided to sit at your feet. 

"You invited us." 

"Yeah, for free."

"Out of the kindness of your heart."

"I wouldn't go that far." 

"And now you're stealing the apple I was chilling."

"Because cold apples are great, yeah."

"Is anybody else hearing this?!" Dwalin asks incredulously, clearly growing exasperated with you. 

Everyone else is only amused though, and for a moment you feel a pang of guilt. "Hey, Dwalin dear, you don't have to worry about it. 'Cause when I go and steal their stuff next, you don't have to offer them any help." 

The slightly red with anger dwarf pauses at your surprisingly sound logic, but he still doesn't look happy. "That's a good point, but you still took my apple." 

"Just go put another one in there." 

"I put it in there last night!" 

"And now I'm eating it! So put in another!" 

He growls and grumbles an angry, "Fine!" Then stomps back into the kitchen to put another apple in the fridge. 

You begin to giggle to yourself when he gives up and storms off, finishing off the apple in peace while Copper sits at your feet and Butterscotch leaves Balin to rest on the cushions behind your neck. 

Bilbo, who sits at your left, gets up suddenly and goes into the kitchen as well, but you don't say anything about it and just get on your phone and begin to scroll through some memes. 

You get like 20 messages from an unsaved number, Erick's unsaved number, but ignore all of them and proceed to laugh at the dumb things joyfully. 

When Bilbo comes back into the room and sits down next to you, Yeti immediately hops onto the couch and lays on the poor guy. 

Said hobbit has accepted that he will forever be a seat for your big boy Yeti, so now he just wraps his arms around him and lets Yeti smother him in affection.

Anyway, you scoot closer and scoot down the couch and ask, "What were ya doing?" 

He looks over at you and cocks his head to the side, "I went to see what Dwalin was doing."

"And what was he doing?" 

"Putting all of your apples in your cold box." 

Good god, you asked for that one. "Of course he is."

---

Later that night you ended up turning on the TV and putting on a movie for those interested to watch, and you were pleasantly surprised to see that all of them stuck around. 

You weren't really paying attention to the movie, but when you would look up occasionally you would see everyone engrossed in the film. 

The Princess Bride is what you put on, and it seems that it has effectively caught the interest of every single one of them. Even Thorin and Dwalin. 

Fili and Kili sit to your right on the couch while Bilbo and Yeti sit on your left, and you have your feet propped up on the coffee table and phone in your hand. 

You're at the part in the movie where Prince Humperdinck explains his plans to have Buttercup killed to start a war, and when said plans are announced you're surprised to hear and see the shock of your dwarven and singular hobbit companions. 

"It was him?!" Kili cries from your right, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Well of course it was him." Fili whisper yells at his brother, thumping his shoulder with his fist. 

You glance over at Bilbo and see he doesn't look to shocked either, but there is still some surprise there. He hugs Yeti tighter and shakes his head grumbling to himself, "I knew it, I knew he was trouble." 

Their reactions bring a smile to your face, but you go back onto your phone and say nothing of it since you've seen this movie dozens of times. 

Around the time when Westley is revived you begin to watch and put your phone away, though you do begin to doze not long after. 

The next thing you know you're asleep with your head hanging forward uncomfortably and your hands laying in your lap. 

When Kili glances at you from the corner of his eye to see if you're still watching he sees your sleeping state and doesn't hesitate in wrapping an arm around you and pulling you towards him so your head may rest more comfortably against his shoulder. 

You mumble something in your restful state that he can't quite make out; but don't wake or move away. 

A small smile comes to his face when you continue to rest comfortably before he focuses back in on the movie. 

When it does finally end and everyone starts to get up to go to bed Kili gets some glares and teasing, but he doesn't get up since you're so comfortable at the moment. 

How long he sits there with you is beyond him, but eventually he does gently lift your head from his shoulder and lay you down on the couch, and Ori fetches you a blanket while Bofur gets a pillow for you. 

Before long you're all wrapped up and cozy, with Midnight laying on your chest and Copper at your feet, and the sight is quite a cute one. 

Everyone goes to bed that night happy. 

[tsuki-chibi]

Blueberry Peach (Adrien AUGreste) Part 2: Ice cream

Or read it on AO3: Blueberry Peach

Also find the other parts of the series AO3: Fruitful verse

--------

The instant she landed on her balcony, Ladybug sank down onto her lawn chair with a sigh and started rubbing at her shoulder. Though the miraculous cure took care of the damage they sustained in any akuma battles, sometimes the memory of pain was even worse. It was like her body couldn’t process that it had been healed. Phantom aches were a bitch.

“Well, that sucked,” Chat announced to no one in particular as he landed. “Plagg, claws in.”

“I’m starving! I need food!” Plagg whined as he appeared.

“Tikki and Pollen will need food too,” Ladybug said with a sigh. Before she detransformed, she’d have to go back down to the road and enter the bakery normally. Her parents had probably heard about the akuma attacking the school and they’d want to know that she was okay.

Queen Bee was the last to land, stumbling slightly as she did. Adrien automatically reached out to steady her.

“You okay?” he asked her.

“I’m fine,” Queen Bee said, gently pulling away. “Pollen, buzz off.”

A yellow flash of light up the balcony.

“Hey, Pollen!” Plagg said.

“Hi Plagg,” Pollen said, buzzing as she landed on Chloé’s palm. “You did excellently, My Queen!”

Ladybug raised an eyebrow. ‘So I guess I wasn’t wrong about Pollen wanting a queen bee, huh?’

‘Nope,’ Adrien thought, shooting her a small smile. He was deeply amused by the whole situation.

“Pollen, what do you eat?” Ladybug asked out loud.

“Much like Tikki, I enjoy sweets,” said Pollen. “I favor ice cream, if you have any.” She looked up with an adorably hopeful expression that melted Ladybug’s heart.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, getting up and hopping over the railing of the balcony. As soon as she hit the ground, she ducked into the alley, detransformed, and waved Tikki into her purse. Then she causally walked into the bakery – and was promptly jerked into a hug by her panicked papa.

‘Something’s wrong with Chloé,’ Adrien thought.

‘What do you mean?’ Marinette thought, trying to remember how to breathe. At least with a hug this tight, she didn’t have to focus on trying to speak telepathically to Adrien and out loud to her parents.

‘She’s just acting a bit weird, that’s all,’ he thought back.

‘She did just go through her first miraculous fight, and against a tough akuma,’ Marinette thought, before letting out a relieved squeak as her papa let go.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Tom exclaimed, looking her over. “I was ready to go over to the school to find you.”

“I’m sorry, Papa. Madame Bustier didn’t think it was safe for us to go, so she made us hide until it was over,” Marinette lied. “I wanted to send you and Maman a text, but we weren’t supposed to take our phones out just in case they made sounds and attracted the akuma.” She crossed her fingers behind her back as she spoke, hoping her parents never got the opportunity to ask Madame Bustier about this.

Truth be told, Marinette had no idea what happened with her classmates when an akuma showed up. Zombizou had been a special case since it was Madame Bustier herself who’d been akumatized. For the most part, by the time the teachers put any plans into place, Ladybug and Chat Noir were already out there saving the day.

“Of course,” Tom said, sighing but smiling. “Your maman is upstairs laying down. She had a headache.”

“Do you need me to help down here?” Marinette asked, hoping the answer was no.

Luckily, Tom shook his head. “We have it covered. Pop upstairs and let your maman know you’re okay.”

“Will do.” Marinette headed upstairs, though she detoured into the kitchen to grab cookies, swiss cheese, and a small dish of vanilla ice cream out of the freezer. Just as she tucked the cheese under her arm, a wave of potent concern came through the bond.

‘Uh oh,’ Adrien thought.

‘What? What’s wrong?’ Marinette thought. He’d been quiet while she was talking to Tom, mostly idly scrolling through his phone. She peeked through his eyes, half-expecting to see a message from his father or Nathalie, and realized that he was looking at his schedule for the week.

Specifically, a photography shoot for Style Queen magazine.

And then it clicked.

‘Yeah, this is why Chloé is out of sorts. Her mother must be coming home,’ Adrien thought. It was a thought accompanied by a whirl of emotions and memories that Marinette tried to sort through as she made her way back upstairs. Her chest tightened as a few scenes of Audrey dismissing her daughter out of hand, or worse intentionally insulting Chloé, flashed through her head.

‘I don’t really know much about Audrey Bourgeois,’ she thought. She certainly hadn’t known that Chloé and her mother had such a contemptuous relationship, though in retrospect it explained a lot of things about Chloé. Marinette paused, looking at the door to her parent’s bedroom. Her maman and papa were so great. It wasn’t fair that Adrien and Chloé had gotten stuck with such assholes.

‘Asshole is putting it mildly when it comes to Madame Bourgeois,’ Adrien thought tiredly, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands. ‘Chloé tries super hard to impress her mom and always ends up feeling terrible, so she lashes out at everyone.’

‘Yay,’ Marinette thought wryly, nudging the bedroom door open. A quick peek inside told her that Sabine was sleeping. Not wanting to wake her, she shut the door and just headed up to her room.

Adrien and Chloé were still out on the balcony. Marinette handed the food up to Adrien and then clambered through the window, watching as Plagg pounced on the cheese and started scarfing it down. Tikki and Pollen were considerably more polite, at least.

“So am I going to get to do this again?” Chloé asked, and Marinette glanced over at her.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Chat and I can handle most akumas ourselves,” Marinette said.

Chloé’s mouth turned down, though her expression smoothed out quickly.

‘Mari…’ Adrien thought.

Marinette sighed. Gosh, life had been a lot easier when Chloé was just an annoying brat that Marinette didn’t really care about.

“But Hawkmoth is really stepping up his game. Zombizou and Antielle were pretty bad. So yeah, we might need to call upon you in the future if you’d be willing to help,” she said.

“I guess,” Chloé said, trying hard to sound cool, but even to Marinette’s inexperienced eye it was obvious that Chloé was totally psyched by the offer.

Adrien shot her that warm smile that never failed to make Marinette’s stomach flutter. She made a face at him, knowing that he could feel how he was making her feel, and his smile widened.

“Eww. If you two are gonna make faces at each other, then someone take me home,” Chloé said.

“I will as soon as Plagg has recharged,” Adrien said, turning to look at her and then at Plagg. The cheese was mostly gone and Plagg showed zero sign of slowing down, so it wouldn’t take long.

“I could just take Pollen and save you the trip,” Chloé said slyly.

Marinette snorted. “Nice try, but no. I’m taking this back to where it belongs,” she said, palming the Bee miraculous. Now that they knew there were other miraculous, she intended to have a nice chat with Master Fu. She and Adrien needed to know what those miraculous did just in case they needed other help in the future.

“Oh fine,” Chloé said. “But if you mess up my hair by doing tricks, I’ll stab you next, Adrikins.”

Adrien just snickered. “I make zero promises.”

[avengersassemble-fics]

Hey guys

I've put off making this post for a couple weeks bc I just honestly haven’t had the energy to sit here and do it. It’s just been a hard few weeks.

If you haven’t noticed, I never updated my post about my dog Dixie. That same day when I came home from work, she had died 10 minutes before I got there. It’s still traumatic and triggering for me, while everyday instances are getting easier, if something about her comes up about that instance it upsets me a lot.

I know we all have to experience death in our lives, and our fur babies are no exception. But this was so out of left field that that’s what is getting to me the most. It took me two weeks to finally go back into our “office” bc she died on the chair in there with my sister. I ran inside that day and had to see her laying there just gone. Rock solid. And it still gives me chills. Do you know I had to bring my cat to the vet Friday (which kinda triggered me bc of LAST TIME, but it was her first time there keep this in mind it’s important) and they really sat there and asked me..

“Do you have a deceased dog name Dixie?”

Yes. Thank you for asking me about my dog who died barely two weeks ago. Who we barely brought home last week. Thank for that ma’am. I about cried right there.

I’m tearing up. Sorry. Anyways.

With her death weighing on my mind, there’s been another source of stress. My job. I feel as though they have been working me to the brink of exhaustion. I had asked for less hours so I could try and cope with everything going on. I wasn’t sleeping that first week, I was distraught, sobbing, it just wasn’t good. What happened?

I was thrown back into a full time hours set bc my manager came in contact with someone who tested positive for COVID-19. She had to get tested and until then couldn’t work. From 18 June to 25 June I was expected to cover for her bc none of my other coworkers wanted to work more.

It all came to a head this Tuesday, 23 June. She did not get tested over the weekend and there were storms here in Texas Monday, so she was going in the AM on Tuesday. The night before she asked me if I could work 10-2 Tuesday. I agreed, but in the back of my mind I was a bit iffy on how exactly she was going to be coming in to work without knowing her results. But okay.

What do you think happened?? Oh I’ll tell you. Though her results came back negative, SHE WASN’T CLEARED TO COME BACK TO WORK. I sat there like well what the fuck do you want me to do? I didn’t want to stay. I had to work 10-6 Friday AND Saturday already the weekend before, with only Sunday off bc luckily we’re closed. 

I was pissed off. I was upset and started crying bc I feel like people don’t listen to me and my needs. I can’t handle that amount of expectations right now. I don’t know if that sounds awful to any of you, but I’m so frazzled as it is I can’t be pulling 40 hour weeks when one this company didn’t want to make me full time bc I “have to have open availability” and needed certain days off for school and two they consistently don't take my schedule needs into account. It’s always the other girls who get this consideration.

I feel like I’m rambling but that’s just how my mind feels at the moment. All over the place.

I want to thank everyone who reached out to me over these past couple weeks. It’s meant so much to me to have people here who at least understand how I’m feeling. 

@call-me-banana-bandit

thank you for letting me send you stupid tik Tok’s and being here for me through so much. and for letting me ramble off ideas to you all the time

@snarky--starky

thank you for continuously reaching out. you’re the definition of a true friend and I hope your summer classes didn’t kill you haha, and for letting me come to you with anything including my story vomits

@jubileestreetv

thank you for being you and letting me send you Chris Evans content even tho you’re like 12 hours from me. when can I come for waffles??

@ayo-cowbelly

thank you for your messages. I was waiting to answer them when I got back onto my computer. this is the first time I've booted it up in months yikes. but truly, thank you for thinking of me in these times

@rae-is-typing

thank you for reaching out to me. you’re a strong and inspiring soul.

@danas-wonderland

thank you for always being so sweet to me. I hope we can connect more.

Again thank you to everyone who has reached out during this time.

As for returning, I did have some stuff in the works before shit hit the fan. But my original plan was to get a good amount finished before posting again. I hope that is soon.

As for now I hope everyone is doing alright. If you read all of this thank you for supporting me all these years and for also listening to my rambles.

As always.. xoxo

Caitlyn

[clairecrive]

Let’s stay home| Quarantine AU

A/N: I know it’s been ages since I’ve updated this story, sorry guys. I don’t even know what this is but someone asked for Bronson so here it is. I’ve decided that I’m going to finish up and edit what I already have for this story, 4 or 5 chapters, and then end it. So, yeah. Anyways, hope you enjoy this!

Tag list: @evelynshelby​, @mollybegger-blog​, @br0ck-eddie​, @of-love-and-of-the-sea​, @deaflikehawkeye​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @fandom--0verdose​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @sopxhiea​, @fuseburner​

Chapter 6 - “Bronson”

Emma was laying in her precious bathtub for some very much needed me time. Since lockdown started, she had found herself needed some kind of relief from dealing with this whole situation. Living together with the guys wasn’t proving to be too bad. She was actually happy that he had invited them over, if she had had to face this whole quarantine on her own she would have probably gone insane. Not that living with four men didn’t put her on edge but it was bearable. As long as she could carve out some time for herself, she would be fine. Sighing contently, she basked in being in the water while the comforting smell of lavender filled her nostrils. but of course, her peaceful moment was short-lived.

“Oi, have you drown in there or something?” Alfie’s voice and vigorous knock startled her and disrupted the moment.

 “This is my self-care bath, Alfie. What do you want?” But she won’t give it up easily if she could help it. 

“Yer what?”

“Stop shouting and get in Alfie. You’ll annoy the neighbours.” Keeping her eyes closed she tried her best to not get the vibe lost.

“Aren’t you naked?”

“I’m covered in bubbles, don’t worry. Not that you haven’t seen it already.” And as a matter of fact, she was covered in bubbles, her long hair covered her breasts and she gathered her knees close to her chest to prevent an embarrassing situation; but the truth was that Emma had always been comfortable with Alfie. Yes, even being half-naked in front of him when nothing sexual was happening didn't bother her. And since they had done this before, when Alfie sat on the toilet next to the tub, she didn’t feel embarrassed at all. He plopped down, groaning for his bad back and looked at her face.

“So what’s all this then?” His gruff tone made her smile lightly and even if she had her eyes closed she could imagine him gesturing at her questioningly.

“I told you, this is my self-care bath.” She repeated finally opening her eyes, finding him exactly as she foresaw.

“Didn’t know there were different kinds of baths.” He mumbled scratching his chin.

“This includes shaving and scrubs and other stuff that of course you wouldn’t know about.”

“Seems like you’re dolling up,” he pointed out looking at his feet but Emma could sense that there was something else he wanted to say so she waited, “is it ‘cause that guy is coming over?” and here it was. By now, Emma knew Alfie too well to not know when something was up. And yeah, the man was naturally grumpy but his behaviour these last few days was too much even for him. And knowing him, she should have known that he was going to eavesdrop her conversation with Bane.

“Did nobody tell you that it’s impolite to listen on to other people’s conversation?” She avoided his question and decided that it was better to make fun of him. His unruly beard could only cover so much of his face and luckily for her, it didn’t cover the redness of his cheeks.

“You were talking in the middle of the fucking sitting room, everyone heard you.” he scoffed.

“Well, that doesn’t explain why you’re so bothered by it though.” She promptly pointed out putting him on the spot.

“Who said I’m bothered?” He scoffed again but Emma could see right through him.

“You’ve been acting like a jealous boyfriend Alfie.” she pointed out even though she knew he’d never admit it.

“I ain’t.” He childishly muttered while crossing his arms on his chest.

“Sure you are. Now be a good boy and tell me why, will you?” She asked him patronizingly while adjusting her position in the tub so that she could better look at him.

“C’mon Alfie, you know that you can talk to me.” she insisted when he didn’t say anything.

“It’s just- I didn’t understand I was going to be stuck in a house with a bunch of your exes.” He complained

“None of you is my ex,” since Alfie gave her a look that called her on her bullshit so she continued, “Eddie is my best friend. He has an on-and-off relationship at the moment but there’s never been anything between us.”

“What about Tommy?”

“We’ve had sex but we were never together. Just like you and me.” Alfie flinched but Emma didn’t notice.

“So, yer supposed to spend a weekend of sex with him too?” He spat and Emma knew that he hadn’t liked her answer but couldn’t really understand why.

“We have never labelled our relationship as exclusive or official, Alfie.” Emma reckoned as a matter of factly.

“That’s not what I said, innit?”

“Well, then why I get the feeling that knowing about my sex life sets you off?”

“And Bane?”

“He’s one of my best buds too. Never seen him naked, unfortunately,” she mumbled the last part but Alfie did hear anyway and threw an ugly glare at her.

“Why are you so interested in my sex life anyway?” she asked raising an eyebrow

“I’m not. You can do whatever you want,” he said not taking into consideration how she could read him so easily. Dismissing her and their conversation, Alfie got up and went to get out of the bathroom.

“Wait, Alfie, what time is it?” her voice stopped him

“Almost 4, why?” He said checking the time on his watch.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m late,” momentarily forgetting about the man’s presence, Emma pulled the drain of the bath and started to get up.

“What? Have somewhere to be?” Was Alfie’s attempt at being funny.

“I have an interview in half an hour. Guess who I’m interviewing?” Ignoring his cheeky tone, Emma kept drying herself. She didn’t have time to spare.

“Some beauty blogger?” Again, another jab.

“Charlie Bronson, Alfie. I’m so excited,” but Emma was too hyped about this opportunity she had been given.

“Why are you excited to speak with England’s most violent prisoner?”

“Exactly for that very reason. I mean, I know nothing of psychology but he ought to make an interesting subject, don’t you think?” Now wrapped in a warm towel, she was ready to leave the bathroom.

“Be careful, Em,” Alfie called out behind her.

“You can assist if you want to,” She offered, knowing that he could sit in the interview and she could get away with it.

“Oh, I also have an appointment but thanks.” Not thinking anything about it, she simply waved at him and rushed to her room to get ready. The interview was in ten minutes.

So far, it was going good. Sure there had been some problem with her wifi, then with his but it was all part of the job, wasn’t it? Despite his menacing look and intimidating physique, Charlie Bronson was very talkative and friendly. Or maybe he just liked talking about himself and being under the spotlight.

“So, with this current situation, everyday life has changed for everyone. Has life in prison changed too?” Was your final question, the one you were most excited to ask.

“Well, visitors can’t come anymore and also police officers can’t touch us, the cunts.” Flying over his colourful language, Emma reflected on his answer. It was a side effect that she hadn’t thought about but it made sense.

“It sounds like this virus has made life in prison easier, or am I going too far in saying that?” 

“Yeah well, for me, it has and also for those people who have nowhere to go. It also helps us with police brutality.”

“Does it?”

“Of course. They’re the only ones that go out, aren’t they? So if one of us results positive to Covid then it means that it’s their fault, isn’t it?” Bronson points out with a raise of his eyebrow.

“That makes sense. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“No one really thinks about us.” The statement could have been filled with resentment but from his tone, it came out nothing more than a fact. However, Emma still felt a little guilty about it.

“Well, actually, there has been an uproar in Italy for this very reason. Families of inmates asked for their relatives to be released because they were not safe in prison. Do you agree?” Remembering an article she saw a couple of days ago, she thought it worth mentioning.

“Sounds like a desperate tentative to get them out. We’re as safe here as anywhere, if not safer.”

“So if you could, you wouldn’t want to leave prison?” Disbelief evident in her voice. Wouldn’t any inmate go back home given the chance?

“Why would I? Where would I even go?” But Bronson presented a fair point. Most of the lives of those who ended up in prison had always difficult stories behind them and in most cases, they don’t have a safety net to fall into.

“Well, I don’t know. Isn’t any place better than a cell?” Still, Emma thought, however difficult it may be to start again, wouldn’t it be ten times better than being in a cell?

“I’ve never understood people's disregard for prison. There’s nothing out there for me anyway.” Apparently, Bronson wasn’t of the same idea.

“If you’re fine and safe I guess it doesn’t matter where you are.” Not really convinced, Emma trying to meet him halfway.

“As lovely as it is to talk to you, my time is up. Gotta go.” Time had flown apparently because the hour the interview was supposed to last had already come to an end. It had been a conversation far more interesting than Emma had anticipated. Who would have thought. One should never judge a book by its cover, indeed.

“Thank you for speaking with me, Charlie. Stay safe,” saying her goodbyes she closed the zoom call. Staring at her desktop, she processed the whole conversation in her mind, the piece she had to write about it already forming in her mind. In order to avoid forgetting the words or losing inspiration, she immediately got to it. Typing away on her keyboard, words had never come to her as easily, she bashed in this sensation remembering why she loved her job so much.

[delimeful]

the shapes in the silence (1)

aka the tiny dragon virgil au you never knew you needed

warnings: fear, hunger, feeling trapped

Chapter 1 

Virgil paced through his room in agitation, measuring pros and cons in his head. He didn’t want any of the other Sides to see him like this, for a multitude of reasons, but he’d put off eating to stew in bed for too long, and hunger had come back with a vengeance. 

Normally, this wouldn’t be too much of a problem. He would slink out of his room, use the well-worn shadowy corners of the mindscape to get to the shared common area, and lurk until he could find a moment where nobody was there. 

Those moments were far and few between, what with Patton’s insistence on cooking at all hours, as though trying to impart some of his culinary skills upon their host through persistence alone. Still, worst came to worst, he could always bluff through it. Patton knew when to back off most of the time, and the others were clearly more than happy to avoid contact with him whenever possible. 

That was normally, though, and now definitely wasn’t normal, he thought to himself, tail lashing behind him. 

Yeah, a freaking tail. Because he was currently in the form of a deep purple, chihuahua-sized dragon.

He’d worked himself into a panic attack the first time he’d woken up like this after a bad night, nearly drowning in his suddenly huge blankets, but by now it was just an unfortunate fact of his miserable life. If he got too worked up, he would change, and be stuck like that, no access to most of his normal abilities, until he’d turn back at seemingly random. He’d managed to wait every transformation out safely in his room so far, but after three days of little sleep and all his hoarded food gone... 

His small, leathery wings flapped a couple of times with his irritation, and he snorted, forcing the extra set of limbs to lay flat on his back. Of all things to become when he was sufficiently stressed… Well, it wasn’t like Thomas’s nonsensical mind was anything new to him. He should have expected this, really.  

...He couldn’t even have been a normal-sized dragon. At least then he’d be able to scare others off. Unbelievable. 

He paused for a moment at the door, pressing one of his deer-like ears against it. It was… fairly quiet. At the very least, if Roman or Patton were out there, he’d be able to hear them. Plus, at this size, it’d certainly be easier to hide in the shadows. His stomach reminded him of how empty it was with a grumble, and he grumbled back at it. 

Fine, he’d risk his scaly skin trying to get something to eat. Everything could go terribly wrong, but that wasn’t anything new for him anyways. 

He glanced up at the locked doorknob to his room, and then focused on wanting out. His room very thoughtfully provided a cat-flap, so well blended with his door that he almost missed it. He hissed petulantly at the indignity, and then pushed through it anyways. Better to have a quick way back into his room if things went south. 

He started down the hall at a swift jaunt, confident that nobody would come down this hallway since his room was the only one connected to it. Once he reached the stairs to the common area, he slowed considerably. He’d never seen the area while in this form, and it all felt so… large. 

He shook himself. No time to stall. 

Carefully, he slunk down the stairs, keeping away from the bannister so he could slide right into the more shadowy corner at the foot of them. He crept along the edge of the wall. If he followed it, he would end up at the doorway to the kitchen eventually-

A small movement, and he froze. 

On the padded armchair, Logan was sitting, back straight as he paged through a book. He’d almost missed the logical side with the way the chair was angled to the rest of the room. He berated himself. 

Roman was certainly the worst of the three he could run into here, but Logan was a close second. The Side had shown he was quite persistent in attempting to understand anything that confused him, and a cat-sized dragon sneaking around was sure to catch his attention. He shuddered. Definitely didn’t want to give Logan the opportunity to break out the mad scientist tools.

Slower, he continued moving, thankful that Logan’s attention was focused on the words in front of him. He made it to the kitchen entrance and peered in. No sign of Patton or any in-progress meals in sight, which made him almost sag with relief. He drew his claws in, careful to make as little noise as possible against the tile as he stalked over to the cracked-open pantry door. A full meal was impossible to make, so he’d just have to take as much as he could carry, and sneak out, preferably taking the other wall to be behind Logan’s line of sight. 

Unfortunately, as much as he could carry was… not a lot, at this size. Not only that, but he craved meat in this form more than anything. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, though, so he carefully sized up the jump and crouched, before leaping to the bottom shelf with a light thump. He froze, but heard no sounds indicating that Logan was getting up. Okay. So far, so good. 

He pushed himself up onto his hind legs, and gripped the shelf above with his claws, pulling himself up with an effort that strained his shaky muscles. His wings automatically started beating to give himself a boost, and he hurried to fold them back down yet again. Damned things. They were a lighter purple on the thin flesh that stretched between each wing joint, and ridiculously eye-catching. 

Still, his slip up didn’t seem loud enough that it would draw attention. Luckily, he’d left some of his stuff on the shelf second from the bottom, meaning that he didn’t have to do any more climbing. His food was mostly devoid of crinkly wrappers, so that his stealth kitchen runs were as quiet as possible. 

Before he could properly grab a protein bar, which was massively oversized in his little clawed hands, he heard footsteps on the tile. He immediately scurried back, pushing himself into the back corner of the shelf. In his rush, a bag of unpopped popcorn slid halfway off the shelf. He silently willed it not to fall, and then the pantry door was pulled fully open, letting in the ambient light. A pleasant humming was audible above him.

He stared at the blue shirt, his vision of the rest of the Side cut off by the shelf, pupils blown wide with fear and webbed ears pressed flat against his skull. Don’t panic, he told himself sternly. It was just Patton, probably grabbing something to snack on or trying to figure out what to make for dinner. Don’t panic. He just had to stay quiet and wait it out. Don’t-

Patton’s leg bumped the edge of the popcorn bag, and he paused in his humming. 

“Oh, who left this out?” 

His heart stopped as Patton crouched down, grabbing the errant bag and scanning the shelf for where it belonged. Soft brown eyes locked onto his own, and for a moment they were both frozen. 

Patton dropped the popcorn with a thud. “Oh my stars…” 

This was bad. Virgil tried to shove himself further back into the corner, barely seeing Patton’s starstruck expression. This was bad, this was bad. Patton lifted a hand and Virgil’s eyes snapped to it, his wings flaring out like a bird trying to make itself look bigger. He bared his teeth, a low growl rising up from his chest.

“Woah, woah, easy little guy! I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise,” Patton hurried to reassure him, leaning back and tucking his hands underneath himself. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

The motion of sitting on one’s hands was so quintessentially Patton that some of the cloying fear faded from his mind. He immediately cut off the growling and made himself smaller, tucking his wings back in. What was he thinking, acting like some kind of feral animal? If it had been anyone but Patton, they’d have seen him as a threat for sure, and disposed of him accordingly. This form was so small, he wouldn’t even be able to fight back. 

Patton’s gaze seemed to brighten as he saw Virgil ‘calm down’, an awed smile crossing his face. “Well aren’t you just the cutest! What are you doing in our pantry, kiddo? Are you hungry?” 

Virgil was thankful that he couldn’t blush in this form, because this was utterly embarrassing. His ears flicked back and forth for a moment, wondering how he was going to get Patton to let him go, when his stomach made a groaning protest at even the mention of food. He resisted the urge to disown it. Patton gasped in surprise, and then nodded firmly, determination in the set of his brow. 

“Don’t you worry, little guy. I’m gonna fix you up something great!” 

With that, the moral side reached into the pantry with both hands, gently maneuvering Virgil out of his corner and into Patton’s arms. He tried to scuttle backwards, but Patton made soothing noises at him, and it wasn’t like he could actually bite him. The side clearly hadn’t figured out who he was; he had to depend on that if he wanted to make it out of this unscathed. He had to act timid, harmless. It was a jarring change from his normal persona. 

Still, he couldn’t help but dig his claws into Patton’s skin as he found himself high up in the air, suspended only by Patton’s arms. Sure he had wings, but it wasn’t like he’d ever practiced using them! 

Thankfully, Patton seemed content to set him down on the counter, smiling at him cheerily before opening the fridge to search its contents, beginning to list out possible food items he could use. Virgil eyed the drop to the ground, still a little dizzy from being lifted so suddenly. If he ran, would Patton chase him? He’d still be hungry, either way. Patton was treating him kindly, if a little patronizing, so would it really hurt to play the role long enough to get a meal...? So long as the other sides didn’t find out-

“Patton? Who are you talking to-?”     

Logan’s voice cut off sharply as Virgil whirled around, nearly slipping off the counter. No, no, no, no, no. Of course all the commotion had been audible from the living room. He turned tail as Logan approached, but before he could attempt to scale the fridge, a hand carefully seized the base of his wings, pinning them together the way one would hold a captured butterfly. His feet slid against the slick countertop uselessly. Trapped. Oh god, Logan was going to figure him out immediately and they were going to call Roman to slay him for being a monster and-

“Is this a… miniature dragon?” Logan asked, curiosity coloring his voice. Virgil’s tail lashed back and forth desperately as he ineffectively tried to wriggle out of the hold.

“Logan!” Patton greeted, “Yeah, I found him in the pantry! I’m trying to figure out what to make for him, poor thing’s half-starved!” 

“Curious.” He curled in on himself as Logan ran a critical eye over his form. “Starved seems like a mild exaggeration. What did you have in mind?” 

Patton hummed for a moment in consideration. “I’m not sure! What do you think, Lo?” 

“Well,” Logan shifted his grip, and Virgil suddenly found fingers prying open his mouth with relative ease, “going by its molars and canines, I would estimate it follows a mostly carnivorous diet.” 

He shook his head free of Logan’s grasp, growling lowly despite himself. Thankfully, Logan seemed unperturbed, simply turning away from him. 

“Beyond that, Patton, I find it likely that this creature escaped the Imagination. It would likely be happier to be returned to its natural habitat.” 

Virgil froze at the words, panic seeping through like ice in his veins. He already had a hard enough time defending himself in the Imagination when he had access to all his abilities. Like this, he didn’t stand a chance.

“Aww, c’mon kiddo, I want to make sure he’s properly fed before anything else! I’m sure Roman won’t mind if we keep an eye on the lil’ guy until he gets back, right?” Patton turned his pleading gaze onto Logan, who managed an admirable ten seconds before admitting defeat with a sigh and adjusting his glasses. 

“Very well. Is there anything I can do to help?”  

“Don’t worry about it, Lo. I’m not the,” he lifted a package of sausages from the fridge, “wurst at cooking, you know!” 

Logan groaned in admonishment at the pun, and then looked at Virgil consideringly. “In that case, I will keep an eye on our… unexpected guest.” 

Virgil’s stomach dropped unpleasantly, but he forced himself to focus. Patton had bought him time, so he wasn’t doomed just yet. They still thought he was just a dumb animal. He only needed to find an opportunity to get away. 

Despite his inner pep talk, he still shied away when Logan reached out for him, lifting him off the counter like one would lift a scruffed kitten. It was much less supportive than Patton’s carry was, and he started shaking in the hold, nerves getting the better of him. He’d been trying to suppress his instincts as best he could, but what was the point? It wasn’t like they knew it was him.

Logan didn’t pause as he walked past the array of furniture in the common area, heading upstairs, and Virgil felt his heart enter his throat. Where were they going? Was Logan taking him to the Imagination after all? Did he already know who he was, and was simply waiting until they were alone to get rid of him, to spare Patton the trouble? A distressed warble came out of his throat as he twisted in Logan’s grip.

“Stop moving,” the grip on him tightened, “I am not going to harm you.” 

Like he could trust that. Still, his thrashing slowed once he realized they weren’t, in fact, headed toward Roman’s side of the Mindscape. They were headed towards Logan’s room. He barely refrained from shooting a longing glance back at his own hall, trapped by Logan’s firm hold. So close, and yet so far.

Once they’d passed into the logical side’s room, he found himself deposited on Logan’s desk. He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare around, having never been in any of the others’ rooms before.

There were a surplus of books piled around, unsurprisingly, but also a large, slowly revolving globe and an oversized telescope in one corner. A whiteboard took up half a wall, the air smelling faintly of dry erase marker. There seemed to be star maps charted out on the ceiling, and he wondered if Logan had drawn them by hand or simply willed the room that way.

Before he could take in any more, there was the sudden sensation of cold metal against his front leg, and a simple clicking sound. He jumped, waving his leg as though to shake the foreign object off. It remained steadily in place, and he stared at the small, metal band, heart racing in his ears.

It was a cuff, inscribed with small glowing circuits. 

“There,” Logan said with an air of satisfaction. “with that, you won’t be able to wander off while we aren’t looking.” 

[qhostqizmo]

It’s sink or swim

a split second decision

The wind was biting; almost savagely cold, but by far she felt she was far more frigid. There was no ice, no snow, no speck of white dusting the trees or dirt; winter was coming but had not arrived, but there was no denying the frost in her veins. She dared not to look down; to see where all her warmth had bled out in the red stain on her shirt. Her teeth could almost chatter. Her skin was crawling, clammy; much too cold. Dangerously chilled.

As the half-elf took another swing at her, Essätha saw it coming, and prepared. She stumbled her way through a dodge; she’d take a near-miss over even a nick as she panted for air, and brought up her hand. Arcs of electricity crackled from her touch. Her swipe missed his skin but the conduct of the metal armor he was wearing enough. The charge of her touch crackled, meeting the plating wrapped around his arm, and the man yelped and cursed in a vile string.

She spat blood on his face as he turned to snarl at her. It splattered into his mess of long brown hair.

The man said something and staggered, swinging his sword again. Another miss; he was losing his edge. Essie could dimly make out and hear the others around her; shouting and cursing and roaring with triumph and anger. Her hearbeat pounded in her eardrums, and in her head. The cold was numbing making her head throb and causing a wave of dizziness and nausea to swim through her senses.

Keep your focus, she chided herself, shaking off the alarm at just how tired she felt. Tired to the bone. Exhausted deep, deep in every fiber of her muscles, she wanted to fall to her knees and sob weakly of it.

Enraged as she attempted to jab him with a dagger; the blow glancing off the collar of their armor and narrowly missing carving through their throat, the elf swung again. Cold steel sliced against her ribcage. A hiss of agony escaped her.

Drawing back his sword, the man struck her in the chest with the hilt and broad edge.

There was no catching feet from beneath her, not this time.

Tumbling back, Essätha let out a startled shriek. She hit the ground; found that the slope and soft soil beneath her was not stable in the least, and began to slide. Her voice cracked; a raspy gasp that soon turned into a terrified screech. Her hands blindly grabbed at grass steams and a few gnarled treeroots, but it was too late to catch herself.

The embankment slid off, and she hit the torrent of the river; frothing water and rocky shoreline, with a tremendous splash.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Snarling; his teeth bared like an animal, Amon whirled and hacked his sword into the nearest enemy. He advanced again, and again; his blade flying away with a menacing amount of blood flying out of the man, splattering them both and the ground. He was almost an animal; drove into the mindset of the frenzy of the fight. They were in good number, and they were driving them away from each other; separating them for easier pickings.

He had heard Adela’s shouting first, and had went to assist the sorceress in fending her off of the swordsmen who’d cornered her in. On her own, the tiefling wasn’t going to be able to stand up to them for long. Luckily Sulhadur had not been far behind the former heir of the Illiad legacy; an intimidating sneer and column of fire bellowing out of the Dragonborn’s throat and melting the armor on some of the corpses that now littered the ground.

The sound of Essätha’s cry could almost go unnoticed, if he wasn’t so attuned to the sounds of her voice. He damn well might not have recognized it otherwise among all the howling and barbaric cries of battle.

His eyes tore towards the last place he’d spotted her; seeing only a single figure now standing there. They wavered, clutching at their arm as though it stung.

His breath stuck in his throat. Feverishly, his gaze swept over the terrain.

In the lapping waves of the river winding down the path, a brief glimpse of black hair and a flailing hand. He could just barely make out her expression through the tossing and turning of the current, but her mouth was agape and the distant wide-eyed look of terror was one that made his heart stall.

The water.

Fear coated his tongue like bile. His boots anchored to the ground in a moment too long’s hesitation. The realization hit him a few seconds later.

It was the water, or it was Essätha.

It was the fear, or it was Essätha.

Essätha.

Essätha.

Essätha.

Essie.

His Essie.

If he stood there petrified any longer, he knew the panic would take hold, and he would not act. Stripping off his belt which held some of his weapons, and his cloak, he charged the riverside headlong.

Don’t think. Don’t look back.

He took a deep breath; slid and nearly fell down the alarmingly loose soil that sloped down closer to the riverside, and dove in to the first clear area without any large rocks.

Hitting the water was like hitting a goddamn wall of stone. The air was knocked out of him; the water had to be at or near freezing but was moving too fast to ice over. It wasn’t even just the tremendous cold that threw him off, it was the sheer shock. Memories flickered. Nightmares just beneath his eyelids. The lake. The sailing ships. The gnarled teeth, and blade at his neck. The black splotches in his vision as he swore that his dying breath was going to be as he bobbed around in the sea, sinking to the bottom. A deadweight above and below water.

Part of him; a small part, briefly wanted to curl into himself. Give in to the cold. The memory was so raw; so real. Struggling was going to make it worse. It was weighing him down; the numbing cold, the heaviness of that day.

And then then the recollection immortalized so softly, amongst a faint glow wreathing her head and the faintest outline of her soft eyes and honey symphony of a voice. He felt sun-kissed by heaven itself in her golden eyes, in that moment. Dazed and unaware, but entirely at home. Safe. When that sweet voice had offered him rest and sanctuary in her presence, he knew there was no other place for him. No where else he’d rather be then beside the owner of such a lovely, caring, warm voice. So achingly considerate; a touch so distant but so fair.

Amon’s head broke the surface; and he sucked in air as deep as his lungs could take it. Gods he was cold. It was almost unbearable. But there was a fire somewhere deeper in his chest; burning in his heart. The river might yet be a new layer to the night terrors, but no hell on earth or in death could stop him from being by her side, and saving her, come what may.

Treading water proved a hazard; the jutting of rocks and boulders cut here and there through the riverbed and the waves pounded and disoriented his every view. Difficult, but not impossible. He was grateful that the stones were not especially dense; they were easy to navigate away from so long as you threw yourself bodily into the right current. And, with a little luck, he managed to spot a weak thrashing ahead.

The river went into a bend ahead; a shallow area with more stagnant pools near the river. It would be their best bet getting out, or chance being dragged too far down the river, and whatever lay behind that bend.

Passing a boulder, the nobleman used it to kick off; propelling himself faster down river. He was soaked through; his sodden heavy clothes pulling him down. His head came up again, gulping in air-

He’d never felt such joy to see such a soggy mess of a woman in all his life.

Reaching out, he tried to scream her name; to tell her to reach out to grab for him, but water lapped into his mouth and he gagged. Cursing inwardly, Amon fought against the waves, alarmed as he was tossed around, seeing the paleness of Essie’s features; the flat, unfocused look of her eyes.

He pushed forward with every last bit of strength in his tingling muscles; lead weights more than anything now.

Grabbing her arm, he held firm. As they were tossled and flung about, they surfaced again in a throttle of bumps, and he yanked her back into his chest.

A weak cough escaped her. A beautiful cough. His heartrate stammered, clutching her closer. She was a deadweight; her head lulling, and watery-pink-red escaping her corner of her mouth.

There was hardly enough power left in him. He couldn’t keep them both afloat; sinking and rising uncontrollably.

Blindly, Amon hoped for the best, and rolled them, half-drowning in the mercy of the river, towards the left, hoping they would make it in time to the banks and shallow pools.

Seconds felt like eternities. His head broke the surface, and he forced Essie up as he was dragged back under. For gods sake, he hoped she had enough time to gasp for air before they were both dragged too deep again.

His side struck a rock, and he grunted; sucking in frigid water. His lungs did not thank him; he nearly retched.

Within moments, an uncomfortable clatter of riverrocks slammed into his backside. Or perhaps, it was the other way around. He rose and fell; taking in a gasp of air as suddenly he was below and Essätha above. The sky, above them both, greeted them. A cloudy overcast; the sun beneath heavy clouds.

More stone rubbed against his back. He winced, realizing that the water was no longer a rapid, but a steady and slow pull on his body.

Grunting, he tried to reposition himself into a vertical position.

His feet touched the stony bottom.

Amon cursed in clipped tones. He hurried to pull Essie into his heavy arms; looking down to see the discoloration in her lips and the alarming paleness of her skin. If he looked half as bag, he probably looked dead.

Coughing, shaking, he dragged them both on legs that felt made of shattered glass and stone pillers to the river. He nearly dropped her twice; twitching, moaning, and gagging in his arms, but dug his fingers painfully into her back. It made him feel guilty, but it helped him to feel something through the pins and needles, and that was better than feeling nothing and mistakenly allowing her to slip back and hit the gravel below.

Cradling the sorceress to his chest, the nobleman collapsed at the riverside, wheezing.

“Essie… Essie… Essie.”

Shallow breathing. Her eyelids flickered, but refused to raise to greet him. Bathe him in sunlight. The crimson coloring on her clothes, which had washed out significantly in the river, was beginning to grow splotches of color once more.

“Come on,” he groaned, lying her carefully on the ground. He rolled her to her side, giving her a side blow on the back with a wince-

She choked, hurling out a mouthful of riverwater and blood.

Heaving a sigh of relief, he pulled his hand back to strike her with his palm again-

An arrow came whistling from the treeline, piercing his arm.

Letting out a garbled curse, Amon looked up.

Furthur upriver, in the sparse trees, a figure holding a shortbow began to reload as they walked their way.

They were helpless.

In the river, they were dead.

Out of the river, they were dead.

Pawing himself; Amon pulled out all he had left on him: his enchanted dagger, and another dagger. He found one of Essie’s still on her; the other likely lost to the river.

Holding to their only protection, he kneeled over this woman, shaking. Water dripped from him and on to her shaking form.

There were so many things he wanted to tell her. His throat tightened, his mouth opened, trembling-

He looked up to see the notched arrow, and the drawstring pull back.

Instinctively, he threw himself on top of Essätha as the bowman let loose. This time he was more lucky; the arrow stuck to the padded leather armor beneath his jerkin.

Quietly, Essie groaned beneath him. Amon reached out, cradling the side of her face with his quivering hand.

“You’ll be okay Essie, I’ve got you,” he promised; his voice shaky as he trembled with the cold.

To his amazement, her eyelids groggily lifted the tiniest of slivers. She groaned, quietly and muffled, “Amon.” Not a question. A sigh. Recognition.

If he was going to die today, at least it would be someone worth dying for.

Grabbing the knives, he pushed himself up to his unsteady feet, facing towards the man now moving briskly their way.

The nobleman threw the first knife as he swayed on his feet, and it clattered into the dirt.

He readied himself as the man pulled a sword out from their scabbard.

Just as the snarling figure began to pick up speed, a series of explosion of fire and horrifying black tentacles appeared before the man. They screamed; hellish and in pain, and as they writhed and burned and howled from the assault. Just as they began to crumple towards the ground, twitching and moaning, a hatchet came flying out from the wilds, and struck the man square in the head.

Dumbfounded, Amon searched higher up on the ridgeline.

Never had the sight of those six idiots been more relieving in all his life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Her head and body were twenty times more sore than they had been, and now she was sniffling and chilled as the first snowflakes began to descent from the sky. Nothing made much sense outside of the ache deeper than words could describe in her body. All she was aware of was that she hurt, and no matter how many times Pri’cha and Sulhadur healed her and reassured her, their words were nothing more than muffled cotton in her ears.

She wanted to sleep. Desperately.

While the others talked, Essie stared at the ground. She looked at the cloak, wrapped around her shoulders. Picked at it, and drew it closer to her chest. Fir trees and tonka beans, a splash of rosewater and leather. Her head was swimming; she could only lift her eyes in search of who she sought, and not her head.

Amon stood by her, shuffling his feet unsteadily. Silent as the grave.

What happened?

Asking was out of the question. She could barely keep her eyes open; could barely concentrate, could barely make out a word. All she wanted to do was slump over with this cloak, cry a little, and sleep, and sleep, and sleep. Unfortunately, none of these were an option at the moment.

Digging her fingernails into her palms as she made fists; forcing her blood to move and to feel something, the sorceress’  breathed in and out, deeply. When she felt her breathing grow a bit more steady, she carefully placed her hands on the ground, and pushed herself to stand.

She threw up more riverwater, staggered, and nearly fell into Amon who was swift to grab her with an alarmed grunt.

“Sit a while longer.” His voice was strangely clear, close to her ear. Warm. She wanted to turn into it; to press her mouth to that warmth and seek it out. Perhaps warm her, too.

If she’d not been so chilled, perhaps the thought would have made her blush. Instead she sighed, trying to force herself upright as the world became a haze and lights and darkness spun in her vision.

“I’ll be fine.”

Her words came out slurred, though she didn’t know it. Her nobleman merely looked confused as she glanced at him. Relying on her stubbornness, she took a few steps forward. Shuffled, really, her teeth clattering as she held the heavy dense fabric of the cloak tightly in her fingers. Her skin felt too tight against the bones in her hands.

“Let me carry you,” Amon protested, his voice wavering as he rested a hand to her shoulder.

“I’ll use the trees, I’ll be alright.”

“You will do no such thing,” he retorted in a scolding voice.

She groaned, shuddering beneath the cloak. He was almost as cold as she was, but it was the outline of his hands against the fabric that stirred something inside of her. A longing. A desire to be held.

“You were in the river, too,” she reminded him in a garbled voice. “You’re not carrying me.”

Her nobleman stepped in front of her, staring down into her face. There was a fierceness in his expression that she couldn’t recall seeing aimed at her before. It made her shrink back, just a bit.

Without thinking, she whispered swiftly, “If you insist, let Sul do it-”

“I don’t want Sul to carry you,” he coolly replied. “I want to.”

She shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold. There was something in his gaze; in his eyes. Possessive, maybe? Prideful, certainly. But there was something more, something broken, and hurting and… scared?

She didn’t want to want it. She wanted to be stubborn, and put up a fight. It wasn’t fair to him. He’d been in the river, too. He was just as much at risk of hypotherma as she was, and shouldn’t be carrying anything, let alone some soaking-wet hundred-something-odd-pound Yuan-Ti.

All Essie wanted to do was crawl into his arms for the remainder of the day. Or week. Or month. Or year. Or the rest of her life and pretend like this terror of this venture never happened. Let them pretend this chapter of their life did not exist, and they didn’t need to fight cult members and monsters and try to puzzle together one great big mystery of a god-being. It was a far better life, a kinder life, to just be held in his arms. Even if they were cold right now, there would be warmth again. Even if it was hard right now, there would be safety between the two of them.

Everything was exhausting. Too much. And even as she blinked at him, tired and stupid as she felt, each blink was refracted pieces of the river. She was going to die. She’d known she was going to die.

And then at the river’s edge, the vaguest shadow hanging over her, the most heartfelt vow. Softly; a promise, a swear, almost an endearment…

You can’t think that way.

“I would like to walk,” she mumbled, tiredly, aware that she was even rocking as she stood in one place, unable to keep her balance. “However,” she went on, feeling the energy shift around him; hurt, rejection, a stubbornness that would not let him back down, “If it concerns you so much, I will… let you do so. On one condition.”

“Name it.” Why did he sound so breathless? Her knees would be knocking if she wasn’t already so damn focused on standing up straight. Or trying to.

“You hand me over to someone else when you grow tired.”

He grimaced. His expression smoothed. “Done.”

That was too easy. He wouldn’t last long-

Nothing could catch her off guard more than her Lord Amon, stepping beside her, and with little grace as he groaned and hissed but great care, pressed his arm behind her knees and one behind her shoulders, and scooled her up in his arms.

Essie flinched and let out a pained gasp, scrunching up her face. Her heart hammered; expecting to be dropped…

He did not drop her.

She looked up to see his expression slightly strained, but nonetheless, he kept her pressed against his chest as though his very life depended on it.

Their attire was both still quite soaked through; despite magic and dry cloth to pat themselves down with. Essie shivered at the cold, pressing one hand over his chest; near to Amon’s heart, and the other lifted to his hair. A whisper of words beneath her breath, and with a glitter and wispy aura, heat spilled out of her fingers.

Someone was talking to them, but she wasn’t really listening. She was looking up into the nobleman’s eyes, as he stared at her. His jawline was trembling strangely, and his eyes looked fearful still, like he’d seen a ghost.

Whatever exchanges were said next, she wasn’t paying attention. Casting her magic; trying to envelope warmth into Amon as he nodded and arrangements were made. Back down to the village before nightfall, or something of that sort.

Her head rested against Amon’s shoulder. She closed her eyes.

“Don’t be scared,” she whispered quietly. “I’m here.”

She could swear she’d heard him swallow, loudly. Snowflakes must have melted on her face, because she felt a few wet spots before she drifted off to sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Luckily, the quiet tavern still had the same rooms available for them upon return. The owner of the establishment; none the wiser, was pleased to see them, but seemed rightfully concerned about her and her nobleman appearing quiet wet. When they revealed a ‘misstep’ by the river, he discounted their stay and offered to send for the doctor, which lived outside of town. They awkwardly turned it down. They wouldn’t make it by morning anyway; when they’d be setting out, and explaining their freshly-healing wounds would only tie up more stories. Bandits could only be used as an excuse so many times before the stories grew suspicious.

To Essie’s immense surprise, Amon did not hand her off once, even as she slept. Sulhadur confirmed this, teasingly, as she was sat down for the first time for the nobleman to offer payment to the innkeep. Her face felt warm, but lacked depth of color from this knowledge. What a fool, that man was. An adorable, protective fool.

Picked up once more; this time more delicately despite the fact he should be fatigued by now handling her, Amon took her up the stairwell. She felt the warm feeling creeping to her ears and down her hairline and neck to her chest as the others watched, including their host who seemed both surprised and flustered. If he was flustered, how was she supposed to feel?

“You carried me this far,” she reminded him with only a little protest in her voice, “I can have taken the stairs.”

“I’ve carried you this far,” he agreed, “I can carry you the rest of the way.”

He was calm about his answer, leaving her little room to argue. She rested her face to his shoulder, bundled up still in his cloak with his fur mantle bunched around her neck. It would be damn cozy if she still didn’t feel half-way towards death’s door.

Amon was gracious enough to allow her to unlock the door, mostly because his hands were full of, well, her. She turned the knob and pushed, and he used his foot to swing it slowly the rest of the way as he shouldered his way inside. There wasn’t enough time to put up an argument for her to insist on putting her down; he merely took her to the bedside, and slowly slid her out of his arms and on the mattress.

It was dark in the room. The curtains drawn. Chilly. Essätha shivered, staring up at him. Dark hair, darker eyes.

He looked about ready to turn away, but hesitated. They seemed to hold each other in a sort of trance.

He’d faced a fear for her. A big fear. A huge fear.

She bit her lower lip. He licked his lips. The energy was crackling with a sort of uneasy tension.

“… Thank you.”

“… You would have done the same.” His voice was shy; modest.

Cracking a smile despite herself, she reached up for him. Her heart begged for it; screamed for it. She had to touch him.

“I would not have been so skilled as to accomplish the feat, though.”

He rasped a weary chuckle. “Who knows, you surprise me all the time.”

Her brow knit with concern. Caressing his face, the nobleman leaned into her hands. Wanting. Craving. It was the unspoken and unnamed thing between them; unacknowledged. The yearning for touch. The way both of them sought it out; even unintentionally. Pinkies hooked in public, fingers intertwined on a walk, hand resting to back, arm-in-arm, shoulder-to-shoulder, face pressed to shoulder. It was the close that was still, somehow, never close enough.

Essie pulled her hands back, a little.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Wide-eyed, Amon found himself physically needing to remind himself to breathe. She was so flawless and stunning; such a picture perfect beauty so close. She looked better than earlier, though still not quite herself, but there wasn’t a single thing about her even now he did not adore. The tangles in her hair, the tiredness of her eyes, the pale complexion, the rings beneath her eyes, the colorless lips. He could would do anything for her, here and now.

Her hands cradled his. Gentle, soft; but cold. Colder than usual. He wanted to grab her hands and rub them vigorously. He wanted to kiss the heat back into them; watch her turn pink as he breathed on them and tenderly pressed his lips upon them.

A terrible thought. He banished it far into the depths of his mind.

He nearly sighed; nearly closed his gaze and allowed himself to succumb to her hands, when she began to retreat from him.

He was desperate. Leaning in; chasing her touch. He’d nearly lost her today. His heart surged into his throat; making him feel sick. His half-mast gaze refocused as he looked at her, still following her touch like a moth to flame.

Essie fell back further and further. He followed her; instinctive and needy.

The position would make him flush, if he’d had half a braincell to work with. As it was, he seemed as magnetized as she was; not to the intimacy, but to the feeling. In his desire to remain with her hands; her careful loving hands, he had slipped his knees upon the bedside and hovered upon her now in a position most unfitting. Her beneath, him above, hovering. The world was flipped upside down; with the sun looking up at him and he, staring right back.

She breathed out, and all at once, he did too. A synchronized unison. Together as one.

Her mouth moved, barely. He could not make out the words, but the warmth caressing his cheeks told him all he needed: the spell, her magic, her giving warmth.

He could have lost her, today.

Almost.

So unbearably close.

He didn’t feel worthy of this touch; tender and kind. His eyes closed a little more; mere slits as she cradled the weight of him gently in her palms. He felt so tired. So horribly tired; and so dreadfully… guilty. Terrified. The water; the waves, his Essie, his Essie, his Essie…

She scooted out from beneath him, just enough to sit up. She leaned in closer; so close he could smell the river still on her, and the faint scents of bourbon vanilla, jasmine, and rose on her skin. It felt like a trick on his imagination, but he could swear he’d smelt more rose more and more these past few months. Mocking him, or teasing him, perhaps.

Lightly, her forehead pressed to his. Her gaze, sparkling golden butterscotch, stalled the air in his lungs. He had to empower a bit of willpower not to take her face, and drag her in to kiss her. Just a touch; but even a little was shameful enough. Such thoughts were sinful; she’d hate him if she only knew. As angelic as she was, to be thought of in such a vulgar manner by someone like him, it was more than she deserved.

“Thank you.”

Barely at a whisper’s level. His heartbeat stirred.

“Essie-”

“I know that must have been frightening. I’m sorry I put you in that situation-”

He reached for her, and took her face firmly but carefully in his hands. “I wasn’t scared of the river-” his voice cracked, and he swallowed. “I was, I mean. But I was more scared of losing you.”

A glossy shine began to enter her rounded gaze. Her lip wobbled, just a little.

Don’t break my heart like this, sweetheart.

Nothing hurt more. Not the ice-cold river water, not the rocks, not the swords or arrows. None of it hurt more than that expression.

He carefully wiped the pad of his thumb beneath the moisture pooling beneath one of her eyes as she sniveled.

“Don’t cry,” he urged. Anything but the tears. Anything but the tears.

“I’m not,” she fibbed, stubborn. Another sniffle, and she looked away as he wiped another stray tear. “It was- cold and dark and I didn’t- I couldn’t-”

“You’re safe now-”

“I was cold and scared-”

His heart ached. “I’m sorry, I should have been there-”

“No-” she hurriedly corrected him, grabbing his shoulders instead. “No. You saved me; you jumped into a rushing river to come after me. You could have drowned-” her breath hitched.

“But I didn’t,” he reminded her, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “I didn’t, and neither did you.”

Again, she blinked rapidly a few times, shedding the last glimmer of tears welled up in her eyes. Her hands slipped around his shoulders, to ring around his neck.

“… Does it sound stupid if I tell you I knew it was you?” she nibbled her lower lip, and he could see the hue of her skintone shift. “I… I couldn’t think of who else would be my guardian angel; my knight in shining armor, in that moment. Even if I couldn’t really see you, couldn’t feel you, couldn’t… well I just. Knew. It had to be you. It could only be you.”

He hoped she couldn’t tell how clammy, and awkward, and sweaty his palms were feeling now. His heartrate was quickening, and he found it once again difficult to find any air.

“I told you I’d protect you, once,” he stated hoarsely.

She smiled at him. One of those Essie smiles, that he swore was meant only for him. Soft and secret; fond and doting. It made him feel special. Wanted. Worthy; the thought shaking him to the core.

“I’m… overall fine with that, so long as you come out unscathed. Who am I, without m’lord Amon?”

“Who am I without you, Essie?” he echoed; blurting it out thoughtlessly, in a husky rumble. He blushed a faint pinkish tone.

Quietly; tiredly, she laughed. Her body sank towards him, and he let go of her face to pull her into his arms, where she belonged. Nothing ever felt so right. No one ever felt as perfect.

Her hands moved down his back, along his spine; a muted word, and warmth spilled into his skin.

Guilty he could not return the favor, he rubbed her back a bit vigorously in return. She laughed again; that musical, sweet sound.

“I think we should consider fresh, drier, warmer clothes,” she reminded him quietly.

Gruffly, he grunted in agreement. “Then I get to hold you some more.”

“Insistent on that, are we?”

“Very.”

“Fine, fine,” she mumbled; the fatigue returning once more. “But I get to hold you, too.”

“… I would like that.”

“Me more than you.”

He snorted with disbelief, resting his head against hers. She made a noise; or said something, that was in clear disapproval of his own noise, and turned to press her lips to his temple. Amon thought he’d melt if he were a little warmer.

They didn’t let go of each other still, for a few more minutes, as if parting was too painful to bare.

And perhaps, that was entirely and wholly, the truth.

[hemmingswaybabe-blog]

Welcome Home***

THIS IS SMUT! NOBODY UNDER 18 INTERACT PLEASE.

Plot: Calum is coming home from tour but after flight cancellations and delays, he makes it home once you are already asleep. When you wake up in his arms, you want to make sure he gets the greeting you anticipated for him ;) Warnings: Smut, face fucking. 

We got the redeye to L.A. tonight. Should land at around 4 a.m. I’ll Uber home. Love you.

A disappointed sigh left your lips as you read Calum’s text. He was originally supposed to get home at 8 p.m. but after a fiasco of flight cancellations, he missed his connecting flight home from the U.K. It was now midnight and the hair and makeup you had put on to look nice for him was not looking so hot anymore. 

It had been almost 3 weeks since you had seen each other and Your texts back and forth got even dirtier and dirtier as time passed. You both agreed to abstain from touching yourselves so the sex would be even better when you reunited. However, when making that agreement you didn’t take into consideration that the two of you are the horniest people on the planet. Not masturbating was one of the hardest things you have ever had to do in your life, and Calum did not help. He would send teasing messages that only made you even hornier. Luckily, you were just as cruel and would send Calum nude selfies describing all the things you would want to do to him. 

-

Although you were determined to stay up, your internal clock got the best of you and by 2 a.m. you were completely out and probably snoring in the bed you and Calum shared. When Calum finally stumbled in the bedroom at about 5 a.m., he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter when he saw you fast asleep in the lingerie you had bought to wear especially for that night. He set his suitcase by the door and slowly climbed into bed beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder and entangling his limbs around you. With a soft smile on his face, Calum soon drifted to sleep as well, feeling your warmth against his chest. 

-

At about 10 a.m. you slowly started to wake up and immediately smiled when you felt Calum’s toned arms wrapped around your waist. His breath was light on your ear, on the verge of being annoying, but you were so happy to see him that you didn’t care. Careful not to wake him, you slowly turned to face him so you were face to face. Even though you had been together for over a year, after not seeing him for 3 weeks, you were still in awe of how beautiful he was. You were kind of jealous of his tan skin and full lips, but more importantly, you wanted to kiss them. As you stared at him, which made you feel like a creepy stalker, you remembered one of the texts he sent you last week when he was missing you:

I can’t wait to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my dick. You look so hot when you suck me off and let me fuck your beautiful face.

To your advantage, Calum naturally turned over so he was laying on his back. Your first instinct was to lay your head on his chest and snuggle up to him even closer. But that text ignited a fire in your belly, as you remembered all the dirty texts and long nights without him there to please you. You sat up in the bed and looked at the mirror on the wall across from you. Quickly, you brushed out your messy hair with your fingers and wiped the mascara that smudged under your eyes while you were sleeping. You slowly climbed over him, straddling his legs. Calum was wearing basketball shorts, which gave you way easier access than if he had been in skinny jeans. Slowly, you pulled his shorts and underwear down to reveal his cock. You took a quick moment to admire the beautiful specimen you got to call your boyfriend. His tattooed chest was shiny with a thin layer of sweat and his face looked like that of an angel when he slept peacefully like that. 

You knew you had to hurry before the breeze from the ceiling fan woke up Calum as it blew cold air across his now exposed cock. You took him in your hand and slowly began stroking the base of his cock. You used your other hand to gently squeeze his balls as you began to get him hard. A small moan left his lips and you could tell he was bound to wake up soon. You quickly took action and licked the underside of his cock before placing a soft kiss on the tip.

As you anticipated, your actions woke Calum up in a hurry, but before he could open his eyes and look down at you, your mouth was already taking him as you slowly bobbed your head around him, taking the rest of him in your hand.

“Good morning gorgeous.” He said, but it came out more like a moan than a greeting. 

You didn’t stop, just lightly moaned around his cock, sending vibrations through him that made his hips buck up. That action made you look up and nod at him, permitting him to fully fuck your face.

He didn’t waste any time as he grabbed the back of your head and pushed you down onto him, making his cock hit the back of your throat. His thrusts grew faster and faster as he chased his high. A few tears streamed down your face as you tried your best not to gag around him. You were ready to swallow his heavy load when he forcefully dragged your mouth away from him. You gave him a look of confusion before he grabbed your waist and flipped you so that you were lying on your back looking up at him. 

“You’re crazy if you think I’m missing out on tasting you, baby girl.” He grinned before he pressed his lips onto you for a hard kiss. 

When he pulled away you moaned, “God, I missed your lips.”

“Where did you miss them on you, baby,” He teased as he touched all over your body, “Where do you want me? What do you want from me, baby?”

“Please make me cum with your mouth and your fingers. I’ve missed it so much. I just want you on me.” you whined as you squirmed beneath his hands running all over your body, but skipping over your most sensitive areas. 

Calum took his sweet time leaving hickeys on your neck that made you moan and groped your breasts as he played with your nipples so nonchalantly, but he still had you moaning and squirming beneath him. After what seemed like hours of his bittersweet teasing, he finally made his way down in between your thighs as he tugged your underwear down your legs and down to your ankles where you kicked them off. 

“You’re so fucking pretty. God, I could look at you all day.” He groaned before he ravished your core with his mouth. 

He licked a long stripe down from my entrance up to your sensitive clit before he began to suck, lick, and nibble on the sensitive bud. Your fingers interlaced in his hair trying to gain as much friction as possible. As you arched your back in pleasure from his mouth, he dipped two fingers into you and began working them into you, slowly opening you up. After a few strokes, his fingers had found an all too familiar spot in your core as he penetrated your G-spot with his magnificent fingers.

“Mmmm,” He hummed against your pussy. “You taste even better than I remember. So sweet and wet for me.”

You almost lost it as the vibrations on your clit shook throughout your entire body. He began to pick up the pace as you were completely a moaning mess. After not being touched for three weeks, the smallest movement had you whimpering and shaking. 

“Calum. I-” You yelped before a strung of incoherent words fell through my lips. 

His fingers stroked against your G-spot and sucked harshly on your clit, leaving you seeing white and the fire in your belly erupting. Your legs shook intensely around him as they instinctively began to close around his head. He used his arms to hold them open as he continued to softly lick around your pussy, cleaning up your mess, making you whimper at how sensitive you were. He delved two fingers into you once more, making you groan at the feeling of fullness again, before he took them out and held them against your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked his fingers dry, tasting yourself on him, until he was satisfied.

As you looked back down at his cock, it was red and throbbing for you, begging to be inside you. Although your first orgasm almost completely ruined you, you knew you would never be satisfied unless Calum’s cock had made you cum too. He retrieved a condom from the nightstand and rolled it on his cock, tossing the foil wrapper behind him. You would probably find it next week and laugh about it. He took another second to look at you, all of you.

“I love you so much. God, I missed you.” He said as he looked directly into your eyes before he pressed his lips against yours and enveloping you in a deep kiss.

As the kiss grew more intense, he ran one hand down your body before grabbing his cock, stroking it a few times, and using his hand to guide himself into your entrance. Before he could even get halfway in you arched your back off the bed and gasped into his kiss. He held your hips down with his hand as he continued to slowly press into you until he was completely inside of you. You felt so full and complete like his cock was made to be inside of you, like it was made to make you feel good.  He finally broke the kiss to look at you and wait for a sign that you were ready for him to move. You bucked your hips up and grabbed the back of his head to bring his lips back onto yours. 

He immediately set a moderate pace, giving you both enough pleasure, but still allowing you both to savor this sweet moment together, after so long apart. The veins of his cock brushed places so deep inside of you it made you shiver and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth with each thrust. You didn’t need words, or praise, or anything from him. You were so deep in the moment and the kiss. He took over all five of your senses: the feeling of his cock deep inside of you, the taste of his lips, the smell of his hair conditioner, the sight of his beautiful body on top yours, and the sound of your skin meeting his with each thrust. He sent you into complete euphoria as you felt an intense heat rise inside you once again. 

As he sensed you getting closer he used the hand that was on your hip and snaked it in between your bodies to once again find your throbbing clit, sensitive to the touch. Without any mercy, he rubbed harsh circles onto your nub to help you find your release. Everything around you went away as you saw stars around you and your cunt clenched around him rapidly, triggering his release. Both of you strung incoherent grunts and moans together as he slowly thrusted through your orgasms. 

After a while, he pulled out, discarded his condom, and looked back at you laying limply on the bed, catching your breath. 

“Well, that was a great welcome home present.” He laughed before he enveloped you in his arms once again. 

“Tell me everything about your tour.” You said softly as you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to drift back asleep to the sound of his voice. 

[satelliteinasupernova]

For the trope mashup: 53 + 98, bughead

Mutual Pining/Curses

It was often said that hubris was a Sorcerer’s greatest enemy. From Jughead’s current position, bleeding out on the stone floor of the Serpent’s den, he was pretty certain his greatest enemy went by another name, Penny Peabody.

His plan to run her out of the Serpent’s circle had failed disastrously. At the last minute, just as he had nearly completed the banishment spell, she had cut into him with her own magic. Overwhelmed by searing pain, he had toppled to the ground, his body limp and numb. Now he could only watch as she drew a magic circle around his body, the lines painted with his own blood. 

Blood magic had long been banned from the academy, so he couldn't recognize the spell she was casting. But whatever it was, it was going to be nasty.

When Penny stepped out in front of him, he could see that her mouth was split into a wide, mocking grin. His stomach churned with panic.

“Too bad, kid. I guess I could’a just banished you, just like you wanted to banish me. But honestly, it’ll be a lot more fun to watch despair in your own misery.” With a flick of her wrist, she lit a match, and threw it into the magic circle. The lines of blood surrounding him erupted in ghostly flame.

“I curse you,” she said, with a frenzied sort of joy, “to ruin everything you touch.” As she took a few steps back, Penny was still smiling. “I curse you to a life of misery.”

……

It was the early hours of the morning when Jughead managed to pull himself off the Serpents’ floor and start to painfully make his way through the woods back to the academy. 

He shared a room with Archie, a young paladin in training, who, luckily for Jughead, typically slept like the dead. When Jughead finally made it to his bed, he was weary all the way down to his bones. He collapsed face first onto his pillow and didn’t wake up for three days.

…..

The curse settled into him like an invisible second skeleton attached at the base of his spine. He could almost feel it move around him of its own accord, lashing out at his surroundings without warning. A week into the curse, Jughead had gone to replenish his vial of Frankincense during potions class, and all three shelves had come loose from the wall and collided into the floor in a dramatic crash.

During his free time, he had begun secluding himself as much as possible in one of the unfurnished watchtowers above the library. He told anyone who asked that he was busy with research, which, strictly speaking, was true. Jughead was scouring the library’s resources for anything that might give any clue to how to cleanse a blood curse. So far, he had found nothing.

……

“Jughead.” Betty had found him in his secluded corner, which didn’t exactly surprise him. Unfortunately, it did mean he would need to find another hiding spot as soon as possible. “You said you were going to join us for stargazing this month. Where were you last night?”

He had agreed to that, several weeks ago, back when he’d thought he’d be rid of Penny and his problems would be officially behind him.

Betty was a student of the very small and experimental Magitech department within the academy. Their paths likely would have never crossed if not for the fact that they shared a few friends from other departments. Betty was the kind of person who took an interest in all of her friends’ pursuits with an equal amount of enthusiasm and consideration, and within a very short time, Jughead had found himself completely enamored with her.

But, well, that was before hubris had gotten the better of him.

Jughead looked down at the book in front of him and feigned disinterest. “I was busy.”

“Busy… researching.” Her voice was thoughtful, but there was a bitter edge of disbelief in her words. Jughead didn’t dare to look up to read her expression.

“Yes,” he replied, curtly.

For a full minute, she stood on the other side of his desk without making any motion to leave.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked dismissively. The words felt like cold shards of ice, painfully scraping against the back of his throat. 

“No, I suppose not,” she said with a sigh, and quietly left the room. As soon as she was gone, Jughead looked up. The room felt so much emptier than it had only minutes before. With a breath, Jughead dried his eyes with the back of his hand and turned back to his book miserably.

…..

After that, Jughead had no trouble keeping to himself. The curse was still a problem, but more of an inconvenient one than one of full on disaster. When he was secluded, the curse was mostly limited to clumsy mishaps, like spilled ink and faulty spells. However, the one time he had given in to Archie’s requests to join him in the mess hall, a glass bowl had broken into pieces and sliced Archie’s hand open.

The library’s resources had provided him with no answers. He would need to find another alternative to getting the information he needed. To ask the Serpents for help would mean telling them what he had tried to do to one of their own, and that would easily get him kicked from the circle. To be removed from them would greatly weaken his magic abilities at the time that he needed them the most. 

No one from the circle had come for him since the night he was cursed. It seemed that Polly hadn’t told them what he had done. It was likely that she was more interested in getting to watch him suffer from the side lines, and was just waiting for the right moment to add the final blow to his misery.

His friends at the academy had mostly stopped approaching him. Sometimes he could feel their watching eyes in class or in the mess hall, but mostly, they let him be.

It hurt a little, that his friendships had fallen away so easily, but, he reminded himself, he had never had much to offer their group from the beginning. They would do fine without them, and in the meantime, he would figure out his own situation on his own.

He was two months into his self-mandated seclusion when he found Betty waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs below his study area.

“Betty,” he said in a breath. He had barely seen her in weeks, he didn’t dare to even look her way when they happened to pass in the halls. “What are you doing here?”

Betty walked up to him, peering up to look at his face. She looked tired. There were dark shadows under her eyes, and her hair was tied back messily behind her head. “It’s been a rough two months,” she said, “but everything will be okay. I just need you to trust me.”

He wanted to ask what she meant, but before he could speak, Betty had plunged a dagger into his side. A painful spark ran along his spine, and he blacked out instantly.

When he woke up, the situation he found himself in was uncomfortably familiar. He was laying across the concrete floor of the Magitech classroom, the lines of a magic circle drawn around him. The section in his side where Betty had stabbed him ached painfully, but when he ran his hand over it, he found no wound. His body was heavy, but he could move around just enough to see that he was in the company of Betty and their mutual friends. Archie, Veronica, Josie, Kevin, and even Cheryl were all standing in a circle around him, with Betty at the head, holding the charm together in a silent chant.

“Hang in there, bud,” Archie said, almost cheerfully, despite the fact that he was dripping blood from the palm of his hand down onto the magic circle below him.

“What’s-” as he tried to speak, Jughead shifted to try to sit up.

“Don’t you dare move,” Cheryl ordered. “You’ll mess everything up, and it was a pain to get this right.”

He leaned back on the ground, it was easier than sitting up anyway. “What are you doing?”

“Blood magic,” Josie answered. “Did you forget Betty’s mom was a blood mage back in the day?”

“It’s one of the worst kept secrets in the academy,” Kevin added, gleefully.

“Everyone hush,” Veronica added, “We need to concentrate.”

After a breath, they all began chanting in unison, and the lines of the magic circle ignited in flames. A strange warmth filled the air. Jughead could feel it sinking into him, settling into his chest, his bones, his spine. The heat ran up his shoulders, slowly burning away the heavy weight of the curse from his body.

As the heat died down, Jughead found himself leaning forward on his knees, taking deep, heaving breaths. “What did you do?” he asked, in between gasps.

Betty stepped into the circle and knelt down beside him. “We’ve made a new coven. Linked by our blood. As long as we are together, no blood curse can harm you.” Softly she reached up to touch his cheek. “We’ve missed you, Jughead. Welcome back.”