#Rob x OFC | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amberjazmyn · 9 months ago

Text

f.a.s.t

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 - f.a.s.t

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 - mentions of rob's stroke from 2013, dad x rob, crying, medical procedures, stroke hospital

𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 - ryleigh benedict, supernatural actor and louden swain's rob benedict's daughter, a nurse at toronto's premier stroke centre hospital in toronto canada. she was doing her normal night shift, the normal of normal work shifts when all of a sudden, in walks in the one patient she never expected nor wanted to see walk into her hospital. her own father.

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - i actually got this idea from a 5sos imagines book so, don't judge me please. also, yes, i know i have done an imagine maybe two regarding rob's stroke but i just had the great idea for this one.

masterlist

- - -

ryleigh benedict, the eldest daughter of louden swain lead singer and supernatural actor, rob benedict, was having her regular same old shift at toronto's premier stroke hospital in canada. she had just finished with a patient, a middle-aged woman who was maybe in her late fourties, early fifties when she heard cries and the pressing of the button by the receptionist at the front desk. which, obviously, was common to hear in an emergency room but, because this was the stroke hospital, it caused deep fear when she could recognise the crying and rushed conversations for help. just hearing the recognisable crying raised alarm bells in the doctor's head and she immediately booked it down the hallway in an instant after the patient suggested she should.

however, let's go back to the beginning of the day. her day didn't start out like this so, let's see how ryleigh got to this panicked place of hearing the one cry and voice she knew inside out.

richard's pov

it had been a long yet amazing fun day at the supernatural toronto convention for 2013. misha, cliff, jensen, jared, myself and rob were about to start leaving for drinks after rob's autograph session. so, he allowed the rest of the company, misha, cliff, jared & jensen and myself to go ahead and he'd eventually catch up to us.

however, after the five of us had been waiting and waiting for rob to join us for the free margarita down the block like we always did to celebrate, i shot rob a text. yet, the response i got from the message i sent which, for contextual purposes was, hey, we're waiting to rob was not feeling it from rob. which, gave me a weird feeling entirely because, that response from rob just didn't at all sound like something rob would say. i then decided to call him and see what was going on just to make sure he was okay because, in all seriousness, why would rob ever shoot down the opportunity for a free martini as well as a steak?

the phone call however just didn't seem to make much sense on rob's end with the way he was talking about how he wasn't feeling it and like he was stammering and stumbling over his words. honestly, in my head, i just thought he was stressed because he was literally working his backside off for the last seventy-two hours and he was just in a matted knot of anxiety. hanging up after some more muttering on rob's end, it clocked in my head that nothing that had come out of rob's mouth made any literal sense and for some reason, i couldn't explain why it made no sense. it just doesn't.

by this point, i was actually with rob in his hotel room as he was mumbling and muttering about wanting to watch the football. and it was when he couldn't even say the name of the football's quarterback and after an old practicing doctor didn't give me answers that i knew in my gut were right, i rang misha for a second opinion.

"misha, this doesn't make sense, is this a stroke?" i questioned as misha sighed on the phone before asking me to pass the phone to rob so he could hear him

and, i did and when misha tried to talk to rob, it didn't sound good at all, "...yeah, thanks rich. this is not good, rob needs to be taken to the hospital, do not let him sleep! i know he may want to fall asleep but you cannot let him fall asleep!" misha urged that i don't let rob fall asleep as i nod my head - knowing misha can't see it

"oh okay. thank you misha!" i mumbled as i then heard rob mutter about how tired he was and that he just wanted to sleep

jesus christ this wasn't good at all, rob cannot fall asleep cause this is not anxiety and i know it's not anxiety!

ryleigh's pov

i huffled semi-frustratedly as i was paged again by the woman i was just finished with. what more does this woman need from me that she can't get from anyone else in this goddamn stroke hospital? yes, alright, i'm aware of the fact i am her routine doctor but, still, if it wasn't for her constant nagging and need for my attention, i could be dealing with someone who is actually still having or just come in with stroke symptoms. but despite the attitude and agitation this particular patient gave me, i still did and do adore her, i am just usually so flustered whenever she pages for my assistance. however, of course, i wasn't able to bring forth the attitude and anger because i knew she was sensitive to certain things and actions and also we're not allowed to show our anger let alone any sort of emotion so i didn't. she's just really pushing my buttons now and i don't like it. yet, i knew i had to put away this attitude i had towards her and quickly so i can give her the care and needs she requires which for all i know could just be a headache on my end from all the times she's paged for me in the last thirty minutes.

"...knock knock...hello shelley, what is it you need now sweetheart? is everything all okay in here?" my doctor's voice sometimes made me sick cause of how high i made it as she smiled meekly

"i was just wondering when i'm getting dinner..." she trailed off as i smiled, chuckling lightly as she asked me that five minutes ago and then the five minutes after that

and that was even though she was already given dinner earlier than everyone else because she wouldn't stop asking about it, "...you've already had dinner sweetheart, what do you mean? do you want dessert, is that what you're asking?" i question, walking in a little bit more to look at the eating schedule on the edge of her bed to make sure i was doing it correctly

"oh, yeah, dessert, that's what i meant..." she trailed off as i bit my lip and smiled as i look back up at her from her clipboard

"...okay, well, you'll be getting it in about...three minutes by doctor kelly, is that all alright?" i ask with a smile as i see shelley smile and nod her head as i smile and breathe out

i was then moments from leaving when she asked me to stay back and for some reason, i wasn't mad. i turned back around to face her and see that her smile was no longer spread across her face anymore and, to be honest, it worried me. so, i acted upon her worry and asked what was wrong as, even though she does unintentionally annoy me with her constant ask for me, she is still my patient and truthfully, one of the sweetest i've had in ages.

"what's wrong shelley, are you okay my darling?" i ask softly as i walk over to her bed and hover over it, placing my hand on her blanketed bed near her hand

"i...i'm scared it's gonna happen again ry ry..." she trailed off with a teary breath as my heart breaks as i gulp and my shoulders relax

"...i know you're scared shells but, we've given you the medication and it's worked on you perfectly. i have a high intuition that you'll be perfectly fine and that you'll be discharged by the end of my shift tonight," i smiled softly and i give her a cheeky wink to make her more at ease as she giggles softly

"you really think so ry ry?" she mumbled as i smiled and nodded my head as i actually went and grabbed her hand into mine and caressed it comfortingly

"i know so, shells. since you were given the medication, you've been doing exceptionally well. i have no doubt in the world that you'll be out of this bed and jumping wall to wall by the time i am finished for the night. and, if i'm wrong and you have to stay for another night, you can page for me during tomorrows shift for whatever it is you need, even if it's just for a high-five, deal?" i propose as shelley gives me a confused look

"seriously? i know you're not the biggest fan of the amount i page for you when i could ask for anyone else here ry ry. i see the agitation in your face every time you come in here and i can see how you try to hide it. it doesn't at all offend me or make me sad, it just makes me feel guilty. but, the reason i page for you specifically is that you make me feel safe and you remind me of my own daughter called ryleigh who used to be a nurse at this hospital..." shelley trailed off as my heart broke but at the same time it burnt - i seriously remind shelley of her own daughter?

"really? i remind you of your own daughter?" i'm now the confused one as shelley tearfully nods her head

"yes. you even look similar to her so, when i found out you were going to be my routine doctor, i knew i had to cling to you for as long i was in here for after my stroke. i haven't seen ryleigh since she ditched toronto and left back to the states, so, i really miss her. but, seeing you really makes me smile..." shelley trailed off as my heart swirled as i smiled at her

"...aw, i'm sorry to hear about your daughter but, i'm sure she still loves you shells--"

however, before i could even continue the conversation, i heard a sudden commotion coming from outside where the front desk and receptionist was. it also caught shelley's attention and she instantly let go of my hand, making me look at her in confusion again.

"--you're needed, ryleigh, go! i'll be okay on my own, someone needs your assistance out there!" shelley forces me to leave as i nod my head and rush out of her room when i hear crying and chatter

but it can't be that person...why is he here? then i heard the one voice i never, ever thought i'd have to hear even step foot into this hospital.

richard's pov

after my friend, an old practising physician told me that rob was just having an anxiety attack and he needed to sleep it off and that not giving me the most pleasant feeling, misha was called. and after that, after misha heard what rob sounded like, he let me know that rob needed to be sent to the hospital and as soon as possible. something was not at all right with rob and i wasn't at all going to just let him fall asleep because i felt in my gut that it wasn't going to end well if i let rob fall asleep. getting into a car, not an ambulance so as not to make a scene, we made our way to the closest hospital in toronto.

as we arrived at the hospital, i started to panic but tried to seem calm alongside jensen and misha as we waited as the receptionist tried to get rob to tell her his name.

"...hey, umm, my buddy here is having a hard time putting words and thoughts together. i'm a little concerned but, again it could be nothing..." i speak up as the receptionist looks up and makes eye contact

"...what's your friends name?" the receptionist asked as i spoke up for him

"what's your name...his name is robert benedict..." i spoke up as she looked at me and then over at rob who just didn't look good at all

"...no, i need him to talk to me," the lady asked again as rob then tried to say his name

"e...e..." however, before rob could even uselessly try to say his name, i noticed a button underneath the lady's desk that she was pressing when all of a sudden, four nurses rush over

and, i immediately recognise one of them being ryleigh, rob's eldest daughter.

ryleigh's pov

hearing that alert that announces that a patient has come in with signs of them having a stroke is always terrifiying because you never truly know how bad it actually is going to be until you get to them. but, i wasn't expecting to be faced with my own dad and best friends who were his friends and castmates standing in the reception area of my stroke hospital.

"...doctor benedict...doctor benedict..." my name was called out twice by my fellow doctor, noah before i looked up to face him as i gulped

"...hmm...yeah...what, sorry?" i just couldn't seem to fathom nor understand why my own dad was here, he was the healthiest person i could know in my entire life

"we need you to work on the patient that has just come in, is that alright?" he spoke softly as i nodded my head and went to leve before noah grabbed my hand, giving me a worried look

"wait, are you okay?" noah then asks as i look at him, my breathing shallow as i gulp

"that...that patient that's just come in is my...my dad..." i trail off as noah's face goes blank as he then pushes me further out of the room he had pulled me into

"...then go! you can't cry now ry, you've got no time! go save your dad!" noah spoke with hesitation as i nodded my head and ran into the room

running in to see what happened and two, to see what needed to be done and what stage of the stroke he was in so i could manage it properly.

f.a.s.t

misha's pov

the second jensen and i rushed into the hospital after richard, i knew exactly where we were. it was toronto's premier stroke centre hospital, the very same one that rob's daughter, ryleigh works at. may i say, what luck is this being the closest hospital because, from all the signs and symptoms that richard was telling me and that i was now seeing from rob with my own eyes, it really did seem like he was having a stroke.

i was the first to notice ryleigh come down the hallway after the receptionist had sounded the button alarm from underneath her desk. however, she had to be quick and very very vigilant and make sure that no more time was wasted. all so we could have our best friend back to health again and so ryleigh could have her dad back again.

richard was now distressed and it tore me apart as did the condition that rob was in. how and why did this happen, to him out of all people on this earth? but, i have all the faith in the world that ryleigh is going to do everything she can to make sure that this stroke does not kill or permanently damage her dad.

ryleigh's pov

since the alarm for dad had been sounded throughout the hospital, we had now brought him into a hospital room to run him through some tests, one of them being a cat scan to see what kind of stroke he was having and the severity of it. as, from my standpoint, it seems as though rich and misha had caught it very early on which, applause to them, because other patients that have walked through those doors in a similar situation have walked in too late.

"doctor benedict, are you able to let me take over whilst you go outside and tell the visitors what's going on and bring them in?" doctor ryan hamilton, the other doctor who was working on my dad with me asked as i nod my head

he knew that this was my dad as did everyone else at this point and that the people outside were his castmates and our family. so, he wanted me to do it so they felt more comfortable about the words that were being said to them.

"of course i can hamilton. just give me a couple of minutes, tops," i spoke as i slithered out of the room as i trusted in my partner entirely that he would keep dad stable before grabbing the medication through the iv so i could then, with dad's permission, administer it to him myself

rolling my shoulders back and standing up straight, i walked out of the room that dad was in and down the hall to the waiting room. i noticed misha, richard and jensen anxiously waiting for anything on their best friend.

"...family of rob benedict, please follow me," not going to lie, it did sound weird having those words come out of my mouth considering it was about my dad to my family

but, i have no regrets about being professional as the three men who i considered my uncles stood up without hesitation and rushed over. we then all made our way back to the room that dad was getting prepped for the iv placement as he kind of looked around in confusion as rich just looked up in worry.

"is...is he okay, ry?" rich was the first to ask as i sighed and wiped the unusual patch of sweat that was forming on my palms to my nurse scrubs as i looked over to doctor hamilton who had also looked up

"we're gonna give him some medication which is a blood clot buster through an iv. and, it's a fourteen per cent chance that it'll kill him because what's going on right now is a stroke. he has a thirty per cent chance it does nothing with a fifty-five per cent chance it will improve and reduce the damage as well as a per centage it'll cause brain damage and cause him to bleed out," i explain as i watch the worry and fear just escalate to a hundred

"mollie..." he mumbles out mom's name, mollie, as my heart fluttered at hearing her name as it broke at the same time

"...mollie can't help you right now, dad," i tried to be as stoic as i could considering the fact that whilst i am treating my dad, i still had to be professional and that included telling him that mom isn't the person that can help him right now

"woah..." richard was quiet as i felt awful as i saw the two men who i considered my dad and uncle just look at each other as they started to crisis laugh

"...motherfucker!" rich whispered or so he thought as i smiled and shook my head

no, this was not the best time to be crisis laughing but, i guess if it was bringing light to the situation, they were doing what made themselves feel better.

"are you wrapping his arm to give him the drug right now?" rich then turns to me as i turn to him

"i am so soon as he nods his head yes. if he was unconscious, i would have already given him the drug but, because he's conscious by law, i have to get his consent. the second he nods yes, we're pushing in the drugs and we'll find out in fourty-eight hours if it does nothing, if it helps or if it kills him," i announce as i watch rich look over at dad as he now burst out into tears and i can't help but feel awful and pain fill out my chest

and, i can only bet that right now, without a doubt, that dad is thinking this is fucked.

"if i don't give you the medicine, you'll keep getting worse or you'll stay like you are and that's no way to live," i spoke as dad wasn't able to speak anymore

this was after dad and rich laughed and cried for a bit when dad finally came to his decision. he nodded his head yes for me to give him the drugs. that then gives me the all-clear and i start to give him the shot of the drugs that were either going to a. do nothingb. helps him or c. kills him. administering this drug to dad was obviously the worst but best thing i could ever be doing to him. but, knowing i had three options regarding whether if he'll get better, straight up die or stay the same, i know i had to trust everything i'd learnt and the work i was doing because there was no way i could take my time on this. i should have administered this drug ten minutes ago yet, the fact i was doing it now was all that had to be done to make sure i don't wake up fourty-eight hours later to the news that could be the possible death notice of my own dad. under my own leadership and drug administeration.

once the drug had been administered, it was now just a big waiting game as i then left the room as i got paged by my boss as i then said goodbye to rich, misha and jensen so i could then have my debrief with my team.

rich's pov

five minutes ago, ryleigh had administered a drug through the iv in rob's arm that gave him three options regarding whether if he'd get better or not. truly, it was horrific seeing rob go through all of this but, knowing him and the work his daughter, beautiful ryleigh was doing to help him, i had full faith that he was going to be just fine and right as rain.

"...guys, i'm sorry to tell you this but, i'm needed by my boss so, if you guys wish, you can stay in here with dad for as long as you want. however, if something doesn't feel right or does clearly go wrong, just press that button on the side and it'll page for me straight away. you got it?" ryleigh spoke as she looked at misha, jensen and me as we nodded out heads as she smiled and then left

"thank you ryleigh," i all but whispered as ryleigh smiled and nodded her head

"it's all in a day's work uncle rich. i love you guys and i'll see you shortly!" she smiles as she nods her head again and leaves us to be with rob who was now eyes closed and laying on the hospital bed as the medication started to do its thing

"and now, we just wait," misha sighed as i nodded my head and wiped away the remaining tears on my cheeks as i sighed in response

"yep, it's all we can do," i sigh as jensen then speaks up, sounding more hopeful than misha and i did

"i'm sure he'll be fine. sure, it'll take him time to recover but, no doubt that ryleigh worked her magic perfectly and he'll be right as rain after everything," jensen smiled as i turned to look at him and, it made me smile with the way he was so optimistic about rob and his possible recovery

"you really think so, jense?" i question as jensen smiles and nods his head

"i know so, just think of how many more people before her own dad that ryleigh has saved!" jensen winked as he was right, ryleigh has saved so many people and is like, one of the top doctors here in toronto for a reason

"that is true..." misha countered as he trailed off as i nodded my head in agreement

"...you're not wrong," i mumbled as i just and watched as i wondered what was going to happen to my best friend and if he'd be okay

✦❘༻༺❘✦

six months past and it seemed as though rob had recovered absolutely perfectly. he was back to talking, singing and being the comedic genius he was all at the same time. they were back in toronto for the newest convention and for once after working for so long, doctor ryleigh benedict was finally able to come and watch one. just like when she was younger before she left for nursing school.

ryleigh was watching at the side wings as her uncles misha and rich joined her dad and his band, louden swain, just before they were to perform another song to tell the audience the story of what happened last time they were at this convention. it still boggled and haunted ryleigh that she was the one that actually had to save her dad's life in the way she had to by administering an iv and medication into his arm and not knowing what way it was going to take affect on her dad and if he'd survive or not. however, whilst misha and rich knew the story, they then decided to pull a fast one and invite ryleigh on the stage to tell her side of the story. as misha and rich had recently told the story at the las vegas con and it was still unknown that it was actually ryleigh that was the one who had ultimately, after misha and richard, saved her dad's life.

"...but, instead of rich and myself telling the story, i think it's time we have the person who was the one who ultimately saved our friends life that day..." misha introduced as rob instantly got emotional because of course, it was his own daughter ryleigh

however, the fans had no clue as all they had seen was a photo of ryleigh and rob at an event maybe a couple of months after he had been cleared to leave. and, in the photo, there were no clues to the fact that it was ryleigh herself that had saved rob. ryleigh then grabbed the mic from cliff and walked on stage as the crowd went insane. some even started crying as they then put the pieces of the puzzle together as they then realised that it was the very own daughter of their favourite actor/singer that saved him and nursed him back to the person he was right now.

"...hey toronto, how are we all tonight? isn't it amazing that we have the lead singer of louden swain back?" ryleigh then causes the uproar of the conference room as rob pulls his daughter closer to him as she doesn't hesitate and moves closer

"so, as misha and rich have maybe touched on, six months ago, in this very city in this very hotel shall we saw at this convention, my wonderful father was signing some autographs and was about to head on out for some steak with misha, rich, cliff and jensen. when, all of a sudden, he just couldn't speak anymore and his body began to sort of shut down..." ryleigh explained as the fans were all on the edge of their seats even though they knew what happened

but, hearing it from rob's daughter just made it even more suspenseful, especially when they were about to be given the shock of their lives.

"...it's all known here that once it was realised that maybe something wasn't quite right with my dad, rich and misha rushed dad to the nearest hospital and, out of pure luck and, i'd like to say the grace of god and all the angels that the hospital turned out to be toronto's premier stroke centre hospital. the very same hospital that i work at and was on shift at that very day and time that dad was brought in. as soon as the receptionist realised that my dad couldn't even tell her his own name, straight away she was pushing the emergency button and myself along with four other doctors were deployed out. and, i was the doctor who administered the drug that ultimately became the key reason why my dad is alive. why he is on this stage able to speak, sing, laugh and move around and joke with the rest of his castmates and all of you guys, his loving fans and i..." just before ryleigh could continue anything else, the crowd roared in applause standing up for the daughter of rob as she stepped back and giggled in anxiety as she lowered the microphone as she looked over at her uncles misha and rich and her dad

"...i had never felt so stressed and pressured at the same time in the entire time i've been a doctor here because this wasn't just my regular run of the mill patient. y'all, this was my dad. but, one thing i'll never forget that dad said was, just as i was inserting the iv into his arm so i could then later on, after getting his consent as he was still conscious, insert the drug, that he mumbled out for mollie who, for those who don't know is my mom, dad's wife..." ryleigh trails off as everyone just went silent as others gasped quietly as she then continued as she felt her dad's hand clasp hers tightly

"...and i remember saying, direct quote, mollie can't help you right now, dad. and, it was the weirdest sensation but i knew i had to say that as the only person who could save my dad was ultimately, me," ryleigh spoke as she then turned to uncle rich

"however, let's not forget the fact that despite having other patients, ryleigh was always the only doctor who gave herself permission to take care of her dad. like, if another nurse or doctor tired to even step foot into rob's room, ryleigh would be on the verse of being aggravated she wouldn't allow them to help her," rich added in as ryleigh nodded her head as she smiled and spoke up again

"dad, i'm so glad you were able to recover so quickly within the span of these last six months. it truly haunted me the moment i saw rich, misha and jensen in that reception area as i heard you frantically but unsuccessfully try to tell the receptionist what your name was and you just couldn't. having to tell these three guys, the percentages of whether you'd survive, stay the same or die is always the worst thing to tell the family and friends of your patient. but, because you're my dad, it hurt me more that those percentages haunted me for those whole fourty-eight hours as we waited to see whether or not you were going to survive this stroke or not..." ryleigh trailed off as rob smiled at his daughter and pulled her in for a hug

"...i'm sorry you had to see me like that and then be the one who had to ultimately be in charge of whether or not i survived but, i'm also glad that it was you at the same time ry ry. you did an amazing job taking care of me, i love you so much baby!" rob whispered as ryleigh smiled and hugged her dad tighter

"i love you too dad," ryleigh sighed in content as the audience squealed which made the dad and daughter giggle as misha had gotten emotional like he had done at vegas as a memory then arose in ryleigh's memory

she then brought the mic up to her mouth

"you can't cry now ry, you've got no time! go save your dad!"

- - -

ok, the ending of this and the middle-ish of this wasn't as good as i thought it was going to be which is kind of saddening but, whatever i still enjoyed writing it! also, just to let you know, the hospital part where ryleigh benedict was informing rich, misha and jensen about the medication percentages and everything, were all things that rich and i think misha were told by a doctor at the stroke hospital as confirmed in the podcast that rich speight and rob benedict had done on the inside of you podcast with michael rosenbaum.

ok bye ily xx

word count; 5455

#supernatural cast #angst with a happy ending #stroke #rob benedict x ofc daughter ryleigh benedict #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #richard speight jr #misha collins #f.a.s.t

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pennyserenade · 2 years ago

Text

THE EXPERIMENT

pairing: joel fleischman x original female character, joel fleischman x unnamed ofc rating: e (explicit, 18+) tags: explicit, voyeurism, female masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), light praise, little bit of male sub, light dirty talk, consent is given at all times but sometimes it not explicitly spoken, a little of a prudish sex thing going on but it doesn’t have any basis in religion and isn’t really accusing, doctor/patient relationship (but is that really unethical if there’s only one doctor in the whole town? i mean, logically that’s bound to happen. i’ll leave this question of ethics up to you, though). word count: 8.7k+ (i wish i had words to explain this) summary: joel & ofc decide to explore the bounds of female sexuality & anatomy professionally, but find that maybe they want to explore something a little personal, too. a/n: well, they don’t call it the last frontier for nothing, do they? this was definitely a product of a mild case of insanity & too much self-indulgence. so i guess happy women’s history month to me. (also if you’re thinking: part one? is there going to be more? that’s up to destiny. i’m a mere helpless bystander at this point). also, also: here is a playlist/soundtrack for this story, just for your consideration.

study one, part one: simply irresistible

Don’t marry the first man you break the bed with. It will set you up for a lifetime of mediocrity.

The sound of her grandmother’s voice, heeding that exact warning, had been the reason she had agreed to do the study with Joel. At the age of nineteen she had married the man she had metaphorically broken the bed with and now at the age of twenty-five she lived in the small town of Cicely, one divorce down and a lifetime of mediocrity coming up on the horizon.

The thought of it scared her senseless.

She was still young, pretty, full of ambition. Points Fleischman had been made sure to emphasize that one night in the Brick, when the barstool conversation about self pleasure between Chris and the two of them had formed into something more substantial. They had drifted away from the erotic nature of the topic and had found themselves in the clinical, academic side of it, comparing thoughts on published literature and personal theories about sexuality. While Chris had tapped out halfway through, claiming he found talking too much about sex took the soul from it, she and Joel had doubled down. At one point she had remarked that women weren’t thought of in the medical field, not really, and told Joel if he really wanted to do something of importance, he’d tell all of his Ivy league doctor friends in New York to look into it. The bright idea came to him almost instantly as the words left her mouth.

It took him a week and a half, but eventually after enough of his convincing and her grandmother’s voice in the back of her head, she had agreed. “For the advancement of science,” she had told him one fateful afternoon, “nothing more, nothing less.”

He had beamed at the news and remarked, “Of course! I see you in a purely professional manner—just a fellow academic looking to travel the unbeaten paths of female sexuality with me. It’ll be great.”

The paths were not exactly unbeaten — the ‘60s and ‘70s had been a wonderful time for exploration, Joel had discovered by himself — but they certainly weren’t as smooth as they could be. She was happy to do her part, and happy to be occupied with something more than work at the café and nights at the bar and the impending doom of her future at large.

“Doesn’t it worry you?” Shelly asked, sitting down a plate of eggs in front of her. “The idea of Dr. Fleischman seeing all of your…well, you know?”

“He’s seen yours hasn’t he?” she asked, grabbing the salt shaker off the table and coating her eggs.

“Well, sure, but not like that. Only men I’ve really liked have seen me like that.” Shelly thought for a moment. “Do you like Dr. Fleischman like that? I suppose it would make sense if you did. He’s kind of cute but too young for me.”

“No, of course not. Joel’s too…Joel. Neurotic. Kind of mean. But also-“ she pointed her fork in Shelly’s direction for emphasis “-our doctor. It’s one thing to do this for science and entire thing to do it for personal pleasure.”

Shelly frowned. “I never thought of it like that. Poor Dr. Fleischman, no wonder he’s so high strung most of the time. I’d be angry too if I couldn’t sleep with anyone. You’re going to let him, though, for the study I mean?”

Too stunned to speak, she blinked.

Shelly colored. “Oh I thought—well, Chris said this morning on the radio that you were. Or would. But I guess maybe he could’ve been wrong.”

“Chris in the Morning?” she shrieked. “I was wondering why everyone kept looking at me like that when I was shopping at Ruth-Anne’s this morning! Just take the eggs, Shelly; I’m sick.”

Remorsefully, Shelly took the plate off the table. “If it makes you feel any better, Chris said he thought you and Dr. Fleischman were well qualified for the study, and you had everyone’s vote of confidence in the bar this morning. We never knew who had a degree in psychology.”

“Well there’s not much to do with a bachelor’s degree in psychology, even in the well populated parts of the United States, believe it or not. Here it really means next to nothing.” Laying her head down on the cold surface of the table, she mumbled, “Has Joel been in today? I don’t think I can see him until later. This is mortifying and I’m 99 percent sure he was the one who told Chris.”

“Well…” Shelly said nervously.

“What?”

“Hi, Shelly.”

She heard Joel’s voice coming closer. Her stomach twisted as she raised her head and saw him approaching, wearing a too bright disposition.

“Hi, Joel, would you like some eggs?” Shelly offered as he pulled out a chair. “She can’t eat them on the account that you’ve made her sick.”

Joel frowned. “Me? What in the world have I done? I just got here! I’ve been to no other place besides my home this morning.”

“You’re telling the whole town everything,” she whispered harshly. When he perked an eyebrow, confused, she added, “That I’m gonna sleep with you!”

Shelly shifted awkwardly. “I think I’m gonna go put these back in the kitchen while you look at the menu, Joel.”

Joel scoffed, ignoring Shelly. “I detest that,” he began, “I mean, really. You know how this town gets and your immediate thought is that I’m the one who’s the problem? I’m a professional and even if we are in the middle of nowhere, I still abide by a code of conduct. I could have accused you of the same thing, but I didn’t because I’m not insane. God knows where they get the information they do.”

“You’ve already ruined my breakfast and now you’re ruining my morning,” she huffed. Grabbing her jacket off the back of her chair, she made to leave.

“Wait, wait,” he said, grabbing his own coat and chasing after her. He followed her to the door and opened it. She narrowed her eyes at him, feeling the stares of everyone turn towards them.

“Go back,” she told him sternly.

“I will not. We’ve got some things to discuss before tonight anyways, and I think it’s silly that you’re angry at me.” He waved his hand in the direction of the door, smiling with that stupid glint in his eyes—so self satisfied. “Come on. It’s going to be very awkward tonight if we begin like this.”

The outside air was chilly as they exited the bar. She pulled her gloves out of her coat and squinted against the morning sun. “What more could you possibly want to ask me?” She delivered the words sharply.

Joel didn’t let her defeat his mood. He nearly skipped beside her, hands in his pockets. “Oh, simple questions but ones I think would be better if I asked you in the confines of my office, given the way you’re reacting to this.”

“I don’t want to be a town spectacle, Joel, is that so hard to understand?”

“No, of course not, but you’ve got to know by now anything is a town spectacle in Cicely. And besides, who cares? This is for science. It’s honorable. We could even win awards for this.” She scoffed beside him and he buckled down, serious. “No, I mean truly. You know for the first time in a long time I woke up and felt like I’m doing something that matters? I’m on top of the world right now!”

“I’m honored you think so highly of the prospect of watching me touch myself,” she told him dryly. Surprisingly it earned her a laugh. He really was in a good mood—an impossibly good mood. Despite herself, she found herself fighting off a small grin at the sight of him.

He held the door open for her when they made it to his office. Marilyn sat at her desk as usual, knitting.

“Hello,” Marilyn greeted warmly.

“Hello,” she responded, the anger disappearing completely from her tone. “What are you making?”

Marilyn held up the fabric. “A sweater.”

“It looks very nice.”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

Joel maneuvered behind her and moved towards Marilyn’s desk. “Listen, Marilyn, I want to make sure you don’t let anyone come back. Not at all. This is going to be a private appointment.”

“Should I lock up and go home?” Marilyn asked, not looking up from her stitch work.

“No, not that kind of personal,” Joel responded. “I conduct my own studies at my own facilities. It’s just a matter of privacy.”

Marilyn nodded. “Alright,” was her plain, unbothered response.

Joel’s office was as bare and as ugly as the last time she had seen it. That unappealing green shade they’d put on the walls had begun to peel, and that stupid New Yorker poster hanging behind his desk didn’t add much warmth to the environment. It served much of the same purpose that the calendar in the lobby did: his reminder to the town that his days in Cicely were numbered.

“You should really decorate or paint or something. This isn’t comforting at all. There’s no life,” she told him, taking a seat.

“As much as I appreciate your constructive criticism, I didn’t bring you here for your opinion on the decor.” Joel shuffled around in his bag, before bringing out a leather bound folder. “I brought you here for this.”

He handed her the paper out of it.

“What’s that?”

“Questions and consent.” Joel sat in his office chair. “I want you to know that this is likely to get a little awkward for the both of us, and that’s okay. I’m going to ask you vulnerable questions and you’re allowed to ask me vulnerable questions too. I’ll answer all of them.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, nerves beginning to fill her. He smiled softly — too kind. “Stop that,” she told him.

“What?”

“Just be normal.”

“Nothing about what we are going to do is normal. I’m just trying to make you comfortable.”

“Well it’s having the opposite effect.”

Joel ran his hands over his face and took a deep breath in. “You can’t possibly be this difficult the entire night. Stop being so defensive. I’ve seen you naked before.”

“That’s not why I’m being defensive! I’m just nervous,” she confessed, frowning. “I haven’t—I don’t know. This is so weird.”

“That’s why I’m going to ask you these questions. They’re about your—your, you know, comfort. Questions pertaining to what makes you feel good and what I can do to ensure that this study replicates a normal session for you.”

She glanced down at it. Questions like “Do you reach orgasm mostly from vaginal or clitoral stimulation?” and “How many times a week do you self pleasure?” popped out at her. Warily, she looked up at Joel.

He set his own page down and took off his reading glasses. “Listen, if this is too much, we don’t have to do it. I mean it. I’ll just find someone else. It’ll be okay. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

She shook her head. “No, no, I’m sorry. I want to! It’s just odd. I…It would be different if maybe we’d, you know…but we haven’t.”

Joel considered that. “Do you think it makes that much of a difference that we aren’t sexual partners?”

“No,” she said. Then, after a beat, “Maybe. I don’t know. I just feel like you’ve got an unfair advantage over me at the moment. Like you’ve seen me naked and you’re going to see me…you know, but I don’t even, like, know your full name.”

“Joel Haim Fleischman.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you wanted to be serious.”

“I’m trying to help you. You said you didn’t know, so I told you. Ask more questions. Anything.”

“Like about how you…you know?” She quirked an eyebrow and made a lewd gesture that made him grin widely.

He nodded. “If you want. I think that’s fair.”

She nodded firmly. “How do you, then?”

The old office chair creaked as he leaned back and tapped his pencil against his lap. It was a nervous habit, but he didn’t look nervous. Oddly enough — being as he was Joel — she figured this sort of thing would’ve discomforted him more than it did her. But he seemed at ease, professional.

“I have these magazines,” he told her plainly. “Standard stuff, Playboy and a few lingerie catalogs. I sit in my bed and I look at them for a little while, and I touch myself.”

“Like how?”

Joel raised his eyebrows. “Like…explicitly?”

“Yes. That’s only right. You said so yourself.”

They looked at each other for a moment before he swallowed and continued. “I…Well,” he laughed nervously, bringing himself closer to the desk now. “I have lube that I keep in my nightstand and I take some of it out. I put a decent amount in my hand and I—well, you know. I usually do it quickly and a little rough.” A blush spread across his cheeks but he worked hard to conceal the fact that he was growing unnerved. He didn’t move his eyes from hers. “What about you? Do you use magazines?”

“No. Sometimes I use erotic novels but mostly I use my own imagination.” She looked down at the paper in her hand. The questions seemed so…intimate. When he started writing on the paper, she looked back up. “What are you writing?”

“What you said.” Joel put his glasses back on. “Do you have a recurring fantasy or a scenario you go back to?”

She shifted in the chair. “There‘s a few. Do I have to describe them to you?”

“No, but it would be helpful if you could briefly talk about why these scenarios turn you on.”

She felt herself heat. “The control,” she answered meekly. “I…in my scenarios, I’m being managed. Not tossed around or roughed up, but you know, sort of bossed around. But nicely.”

Joel remained stoic as he scribbled more words into his page. “Do you use toys?”

“Sometimes a vibrator.”

“Do you penetrate yourself?”

“Oh my god. It’s barely 10:30.”

He looked up at her, hardly concealing his grin. “What? This is a basic questioning that I’ve drawn up from real, actual studies women have done before. Is there a better way you’d like me to phrase that?”

“I don’t do that. I mean. Not really. I mean, only once or twice but it’s not preferred when it’s just me.”

“Clitoral stimulation mostly then?” She nodded. “Okay. And you’re not allergic to latex?”

“Like condoms?” Joel nodded. “No.”

“And you’re still on the birth control? The pills?”

“Yes.”

“And you haven’t missed a day?”

“No.” She leaned over the desk to look at his writing. “You’re writing an awful lot there.” He nodded his head in agreement but didn’t explain.

Joel finished writing the last of his thoughts and then he leaned back again in his creaking office chair. He looked none the worse for having asked her those things, completely and totally unbothered. He could be unnerved, though; she saw it in those brief moments he had to talk about himself.

Strangely she wanted to see more of it. It went straight to her core, the idea of him laying there on his bed, looking at those nude magazines. Maybe even moaning a little lewdly. Did he moan? Whimper? She knew she could ask and he would answer.

She became embarrassed when she caught his eyes. “I better go. I’ve got things to do before you come over tonight.”

“But we didn’t discuss what we’re going to be doing.”

She stood from her chair. “You’re going to watch me. There, we discussed it.”

“But you haven’t signed the consent form!” He waved the paper in the air as she tried to make her escape.

She leaned forward to steal the pencil he had been holding. Quickly she scribbled her name on the dotted line. “Better?”

Joel inspected her through narrowed eyes. “You sure you’re going to be okay with this?”

“Positive. See you then, buddy.”

Buddy?

She was losing her goddamn mind.

——————

Torture. It was positively, without a doubt, torture.

After she had left Joel, she had spent the better part of the day absorbed in her own thoughts. Nervously she had made and re-made her bed. She had cleaned the house obsessively. She had tried on different outfits. Skirts and dresses and then plain blue jeans with simple sweaters. Then she decided on no clothes, only underwear. Then she tried on every undergarment she owned. Black lacy bras with black, lacy underwear; then plain white bras with plain white underwear; and then every other combination in between. Finally she had decided on the lingerie set that she had ordered a few months back.

It was a gift to herself to feel better about the fact that she was wasting away at the age of twenty-five in a little town she had to tell people was ‘someplace close to Anchorage’ just to save herself from the ‘Oh I don’t know where that is’ conversation.

The set had been too expensive considering the impressive lack of fabric, but she had never owned something so pretty before. The bra was strapless, sheer on the sides with intricate, see-through white lace covering the cups, and the matching underwear had the same sheer lace everywhere, except the crotch area. A white silk stripe of fabric covered the area in the middle there, leaving something to the imagination. It had also come with a white garter belt and stockings, but she chose not to wear those. After all, the set had been for her, not Dr. Joel Fleischman, M.D.

Even if she was dressing for Joel — though she wasn’t, truly — then so what? She had suffered enough. Maybe he was neurotic and on the whole not incredibly personable, but he had graduated from Columbia, making him a successful person. Plus, she was pretty sure that he knew where the clit was and that was more than she could say about the two other men she had slept with. And there had also been the way he had sat in the office chair and asked her those questions, almost completely unbothered. And the way he had confessed how he had touched himself. How he had emphasized rough…

She frowned. Maybe she could admit, just a little bit, that she wouldn’t mind if Joel happened to find her attractive. But that wasn’t a crime—it was almost more helpful. They had agreed, if this session worked, that they would conduct further research. Research done together. He had spelled it all out for her, in medical terms, of course: start with self pleasure; move to cunnilingus, perhaps paired with digital penetration (this, he had to explain, was what people referred to as ‘fingering’); and then end with coitus. A simple three to four week plan, if they found themselves comfortable enough. If she found herself comfortable enough.

God only knew she wanted—no, needed—to get comfortable. That New Yorker, fish-out-of-water business Joel had going for him paled in comparison to the existential crisis she had coming up. At least he knew he had his water when this was all over with. She hadn’t the faintest idea where she was headed.

———-

He came bearing gifts. Well, a gift, that was more a gift to him than it was to her.

She handed him a wine glass from the cabinet and he took it with a sheepish grin. “I forgot,” he told her honestly, opening the top of the bottle. “I wouldn’t have brought it if I remembered that you couldn’t have it. Your nerves got me nervous today, you know? I was just trying to think of ways to make you feel better.”

If she wasn’t so nervous still, maybe she’d find some humor in the sentence. But she was still nervous. Increasingly nervous. “Ha,” she managed. She tightened white silk robe around her body and turned around to get a glass of water for herself.

Joel moved up beside her, pushing his glass of wine in front of her. “Maybe just a little won’t hurt. But just a little.”

“No, I shouldn’t. I don’t want to interfere with the results.”

“You’re so nervous. That’s going to mess with the results worse than a sip of alcohol will.”

She pushed it away from her, looking away from him. She focused on the clean kitchen sink—how the light made the bottom of it shimmer. “Joel?”

“Hm?”

“Do you find me attractive?”

“Well…” he laughed nervously. “I’m not sure we should be having this conversation right now.”

She looked at him. “Yes or no?”

“Yes, but that’s not why I asked you to do this. I would never…I consider this a purely professional conquest.”

“So if I wanted to kiss me, you would?”

Joel licked his lips, eyebrows furrowed. “I…Would it make you feel more comfortable?”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked if I wanted you to kiss me, would you?”

He inspected her face. “Yes,” he replied seriously.

Up close like this, she could smell him. He smelt like soap and fresh laundry; clean but not overly scented. Doctor-like. The outside clanged to him too, but just a little; it was the scent of the frost that came off of people whenever they stepped in from the cold, nothing offensive.

His face was more visible than usual like this, too. She noticed he had a scar that ran from the bottom of his cheek to the place just before his chin began. It was a prominent straight line, something she was surprised to have never noticed before. And then there was his nose, which she had noticed, but had never really admired. It was really very nice, long, sloped, and bulbed at the end.

“You have a nice nose,” she complimented, reaching out to touch it. Her finger traced down the slope and he laughed self-consciously, shaking her hand away. “No, really. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

“Oh, sure. Nadine Fleischman.”

“Mother?” she asked. Joel nodded his head. It made her grin. “She seems like a wise woman. Does she know you’re doing this?”

Joel brought the wine up to his lips. “This?” He motioned between the two of them. “Of course not. She would be strongly against this. If all goes well, I’ll just have to think of something to tell her. What about you? Do your parents know?”

“No. I don’t tell them what they don’t ask and they don’t ask much.” She shrugged. Placing the glass in the sink, she turned to face him. “I bet your parents are really proud of you.”

“Well, I try my best to make them proud. I’m sure yours are proud too, though. I mean, not every woman can pack up and move to the middle of nowhere by herself. That takes a certain amount of bravery.”

“I wouldn’t say that. We’re not all Maggie O’Connells here. I don’t have my own airplane and I think my move was more an act of cowardice. I wanted to get away from civilization for a little while.”

Joel clicked his tongue. “C’mon, you’re being too hard on yourself. Cicely and her lover Roslyn came here looking for the same exact thing, and you wouldn’t consider them cowards, would you?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m hardly an explorer, either.”

“But you are!” He beamed, catching his stride with this pep-talk. “I mean look at you. We’re moments away from conducting a study that could do some very serious good for the scientific and medical communities. And you brought it to my attention! Me, the one who went to Columbia. I know maybe that isn’t something you can report back to your parents about, but it certainly is something to be personally proud of. And I chose you for a reason, you know?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she teased, “It had nothing to do with the population size and the fact that I’m currently one of the only unwed and single women in the area?”

Joel tilted his hand side to side, playing along. “Only partially. Mostly though, it’s because you're intelligent. I never wanted to just watch you, and I still don’t. I want to be co-collaborators with you. I think that your input on this project will be almost more beneficial than your, you know, input.” He took another sip of his wine, smiling down at it. “Truthfully, if I thought there were more women in Cicely willing to do this, I wouldn’t have asked you to be my subject at all. But I would’ve still asked you to help me. And I mean that.”

She smiled softly at him. “Thank you, Joel,” she said, trying not to sound so affected. Then, finally: “I think I’m ready whenever you are.”

———

Her bedroom wasn’t overly frivolous: she had a sizable bed, a closet, her dresser, a nightstand, and a single, old wooden desk that sat to the right of the doorway. The desk and dresser had come with the house. The only piece of decor on her walls was a medium size poster that hung over the bed to make up for the lack of a proper headboard. In it, Bob Dylan and Joan Baez stood by another poster that read “Protest Against The Rising Tide of Conformity.” It had been something she had obtained and college and never got rid of. In many ways, she felt it was the only thing in the world that was really hers.

Of course, Joel found this amusing almost as soon as he had seen it.

“Robert Zimmerman,” he shook his head ruefully, “He’s one of me, you know?”

“What, Jewish?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of ironic that he’d stand in front of a poster like that with a name like Bob Dylan, don’t you think?”

“I never really thought about it. It's funny that you mention that, though, because she’s one of me.”

Joel looked over at her, puzzled. “What, an independent woman?”

She shook her head, laughing. “A Mexican, Joel.”

“No kidding.” He perked out his bottom lip, genuinely surprised.

“My father isn’t very dark,” she said in way of an explanation. “We come in different shades, believe it or not. Her father must’ve been darker. Or her mother. I don’t know. Aside from the fact that she’s a Mexican, I don’t know much else.”

“Do you speak Spanish?”

“Did I ask you if you spoke Yiddish?” she snapped back.

He narrowed his eyes, smiling drooping. “Is this a cruel to be kind thing you’ve got going on? You’re like Jekyll and Hyde today. Worse, maybe.”

Shamed filled her. “I know,” she admitted quietly. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit of bitch sometimes.”

He considered her for a moment. “It’s okay, I guess. My professional diagnosis is still a bad case of nerves. I trust that if they worsen you’ll tell me, because I don’t want to do this if you feel uncomfortable.“

“I don’t feel nervous, though! Not as much as before, anyways.”

“Good. There’s nothing to be nervous about. But if you do—know that consent form was merely something that said you consented to the results of the study being published, not the study being conducted. I’d never make you sign something like that with this. I want us to trust each other.”

“Thank you. I’m fine, though.” She took a seat on her bed. “What’d you bring in the bag?”

He sat the black backpack that hung across his shoulder on the desk and began to extract the items from it, one by one. “This—“ he held up a clipboard, “Is the paper I’ll use to record the results. I’ll write how long it takes for you to come to an orgasm, the ways in which you do it, what you use. You know.”

Listening, she laid back on the mattress. She allowed the robe–which she had made sure was fastened tightly around her the entire time–to slip open, revealing a good portion of herself to the air. Joel paused for a second, taking her in, before going back to the bag. She was flattered by the hazy nature he delivered the rest of the tutorial in, as if he was only half there, distracted.

“Does that all make sense?” he asked at the end. “I’ll use the timer to time you, and you’ll tell me when you’re, you know, orgasming? It’s pretty simple.” He made intentional eye contact with her.

“Makes perfect sense,” she told him, drumming her fingers alongside her abdomen.

“Right. So I’ll just—“ He pulled the seat out from the desk and grabbed the pencil and clipboard. Joel nodded towards her. “Whenever you’re ready.”

The slightly unnerved nature of him made her feel less intimidated. Watching him squirm, trying to avoid looking at her body—she liked that. She wanted to know that he could be made just as vulnerable—that she wasn’t the only one who felt nervous and anxious.

They maintained careful eye contact as she discarded the rest of the robe onto the floor, and continued to maintain it as she pushed herself up to the pillows. It seemed like he was almost scared to look lower.

“Joel?” she asked, sitting up on her forearms.

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Will you kiss me?”

“Right now?”

She nodded her head.

“Would it make you more comfortable?”

“I think it would make both of us more comfortable.”

He smiled timidly before setting his clipboard down.

As Joel took off his shoes and tugged his tie loose at the end of the bed, her heart pounded against her rib cage fiercely, just desperate to jump out of her. It wanted to find some relief in a body that didn’t make it work overtime. Someone who was a little wiser with it.

“Is it alright if I keep my clothes on?” he asked, fingers still playing with his patterned tie. “I can take them off if you want. I once had a girlfriend who wouldn’t let me in her bed unless I changed or got out of my clothes, so if that’s a problem—“

“You’re fine,” came her quiet response.

The bed dipped under the weight of him and she felt the warm feel on his fingers brushing against her ankle. It was obvious by the way he looked at her, brows creased, asking silently whether he was allowed to do that—to touch her—that he hadn’t meant to. She nodded her head.

The gesture made her relax on the mattress.

Joel moved his fingers from her ankle and situated himself nearer to her, at the pillows. Awkwardly he attempted to make sense of their positions — her on one side of the bed, lying on her back, him at the other, practically on his knees. She found confidence in his lack of confidence, grabbing the sides of his open green cardigan and pulling him towards her.

At first he kissed her hesitantly, pecking once, then twice, each time keeping his eyes open and alert, watching her. After a bit, he began to realize that there was no protest waiting to rise up in her throat—that she was not just doing this for his benefit. Joel pressed his lips fully to hers after that. They were soft and warm, plush as he used them to map out her own mouth. He tasted like wine and mint gum, and was perfectly okay with what he did not know. He treated it like it was—a first—and it made her appreciate him all the more for it.

Sometimes - most of the time - men never did firsts like they should be done. They wanted to be experts, wanted to prove they were capable. Joel took no interest in that. He hovered over her, trying to understand before he moved. Even his hands remained respectful, just barely brushing over her back.

As the kiss became more heated, both of them began to lose their previous reservations. Joel’s body molded into hers; one of his arms wrapped around her waist and pressed her closer, and she placed one of her bare thighs between his legs. Beneath his dress shirt she could feel the outline of his frame, surprisingly hard and muscular. His nose brushed against hers as he moved his head to kiss her more deeply and she let him enter her mouth with his tongue, meeting it with her own for a moment.

When he accidentally brushed his hands over her breast, trying to re-situate, she mewled into his mouth. Joel parted from her, eyes at first remorseful, but that went as quickly as it had come when he looked down at her. Her eyes told him all he needed to know. Joel stared down between their bodies and she knew what he was looking at: the way her nipples had hardened beneath the white lace of her bra. It made her feel good, warm. Wet. She took his hand in her own, guiding him back to her breast.

He went slack jawed for a second, before coming to his senses. “Are you—oh, God.” He said, wearing a strained smile. “I hate to ask this now, but do you think maybe you’re ready?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

They kissed once more, more messy and less calculated than the attempts before. She tugged at the ends of his hair and he groped at her still covered breast, his warm palm scraping against her nipple. She moaned and he sucked at the end of her tongue after she had pressed it into his mouth with small kitten licks. Strings of saliva hung off their connected lips when they separated again, and he half grinned, breathing heavier beside her. “You’re going to do great,” he whispered softly.

The trip back to the chair was an arduous one he scarcely survived, almost tripping over the blankets and then his own two feet. When he sat back down, the sight of him made her laugh heartily; his mussed up hair, his red, swollen lips, the dazed look in his eyes. He laughed too.

“Put on those eyeglasses, Fleischman, and then I’ll start.”

Joel hummed, amused, but did as she said. The eyeglasses he wore every day sat on his nose and he watched, both expectant and—if she didn’t know better—she might dare to say excited. He leaned forth in the chair, licking his lips. No longer did he fear looking lower.

“Maybe, uh—“ He pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose. “—take your underwear off? You don’t have to, but for the sake of, you know, me seeing everything, I think that would…you know.”

“Right.” She lifted her hips off the mattress and shimmed out of the nearly sheer underwear she had taken so much time choosing. Her left foot pushed them down her leg, to her ankle. With an amused grin, she tossed them in Joel’s direction. He caught them, shaking his head.

“I think you’re liable to be a lot of trouble for me, you know?”

“Is that right?” she cooed, opening her legs. The cool breeze in the room made goosebumps form on her flesh. His dark eyes drank her in.

“You’re not supposed to be cuming for me,” he told her, his voice low, seductive. “Cum like you might usually, as if I weren’t here. Close your eyes, lean back on the pillow. Think of your fantasies. Men who are a little rough… but nice.”

She let his voice guide her, shut her eyes, pressed her body back against the mattress. Her fingers strummed lightly alongside the inside of her thighs, teasing the area. She could hear the scrapping of his pencil against the clipboard when she did, and wondered what it was he wrote as her hands zeroed in closer to her core. She knew he didn’t want her to cum for him, but he never did say not to cum thinking of him.

After teasing her legs, two of her fingers began to massage her center, pulling her lips apart, and then running over them gently, up and down, up and down, not yet sliding a finger in to feel the slick she was certain had already gathered there. She began to feel the stirrings of her desire, warming her inside out, from the top of her head, to the bottom of her feet. It was electric. She felt like if he pressed her finger to her clit right now, she’d cum in a second. So she didn’t

She pressed a finger between her folds, allowing herself a little more sensation; she ran it up and down just like before, this time gathering up the wetness, taking it up nearly to the point of her clit, but stopping just short of it. It was a torturous act of self restraint, but she had learned from experience that it welcomed a more fulfilling orgasm–like denying herself it for too long only made it build up with more fury.

She began to think of Joel again. Thought of his nose, how the tip of it would feel as it scraped against her swollen clit, his tongue lapping the juices between her legs. How his fingers would press into the flesh of her thighs, tight, holding them apart. The lewd sounds of his tongue pressed to her cunt as he drew an orgasm from her, sucking her the way he had with her tongue, taking and taking and taking until she was nothing but a shaking mess in his arms.

She could feel her slickness more prominently between her legs now. Knew that Joel, who sat across from her, watching, could probably see it drip down her cunt—could maybe even see it glisten on her fingers as she ran them up and down and finally, remorsefully, letting two of them circle her own clit. She pressed down hard, her knees fighting to draw inward, and her one free hand clutching desperately to the pillow her head laid on.

She began to moan more openly than she usually allowed herself to, unashamed by it in a way she couldn’t bring herself to be in normal circumstances. The pressure was building up rapidly behind her clit and her body was begging for release, shaking ever so slightly. She thought of his mouth, how hot and wet it’d be, thought about how he’d run his tongue up and down her folds and maybe if she asked him—or better yet, maybe even if she didn’t—he’d poke the tip of it inside of her, filling her with him, before lapping her up greedily. How he’d pinch her nipple between his fingers and tell her how good she was doing-

“Oh Joel,” she moaned, “Joel—I’m—I’m cumming.”

She rode herself out until she felt it was all done—without bringing herself to another orgasm—and then she crashed back onto the mattress. She breathed fast, spent and electrified all at once. Staring up at the ceiling, she grinned.

That had been one of the best orgasms of her life.

“Do you mind if I say something mildly inappropriate?” Joel asked, his voice tight. She glanced up at him. He looked amazed.

“Go for it, Doctor.”

“That was the hottest thing a woman has ever done in front of me. God, you—“ He ran his hands through his already unruly hair, leaning back in his chair. He wore a faint grin. “I’m a proud Jewish man, don’t get me wrong, but if you were a religion I think I’d be converted.”

She laughed. “How long?”

“Hm?” he asked, eyebrows drawn up.

“How long did it take me to orgasm?”

“Oh.” He came to, remembering himself. He looked down at the paper. “A minute and thirty seconds. Is that usual?”

“Probably. I don’t know. Maybe a little shorter.”

Joel jotted that on the paper. Without looking up he said, “Do you mind if I ask you what you thought about while you did it?”

She propped her head up on her hand. “Is it a professional or personal question, Dr. Fleischman?” she said, toeing the line between flirtatious and serious.

Smirking, he replied, “Let’s say both.”

“I thought of you.”

His cheeks heated, but it was obvious that fact flattered him; he sat straighter in the chair and he grinned. He also found it in himself to be brave enough to ask, “What about me? Was I like the other guys you think about?”

She inspected him, saw the glint in his eye and the visible tent his cock had made, even despite the dark color of his pants. “Do you like being talked to through masturbation, Dr. Fleischman?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Well, I don’t know, I’ve never tried it before.”

She bit her lip, debating her next words.

On one hand she very much wanted Joel to come undone in front of her. It was obvious the thought of it was killing him too, making him tense. He watched her expectantly, sitting in that chair, clutching that clipboard so hard it practically made his knuckles white.

But on the other hand, she wondered what this would do to them outside of the bedroom. Her relationship with him had bordered on friendly before, but would it stay that way if they crossed the threshold from professional to self indulgent? She really did need this study more than he would ever know–more for herself than anything. He had been so kind the entire time, though–reassuring and soft, patient and understanding. There had been nothing they had done so far that he hadn’t asked permission for. And he was just Joel. Though there were times he could border on asshole territory, he never flung himself into it—especially not at the moments that mattered. She believed him to be good, someone she might have really liked if she met him on the street somewhere.

Drawing herself up on her forearms, she decided.

“Did that make you hard?” Her words practically dripped in sex. It had been so long since she had done something like this. But she knew it was right, felt it in the way he regarded her with that astounded, half surprised, half unbelieving look.

He tossed the clipboard to the ground. “Mrs. Robinson, you’re trying to seduce me,” he joked, fingers resting on his thighs.

She pulled herself closer to him, slowly, scooting just an inch down the bed. Getting on her knees, she reached behind her and unclipped her bra. “Am I? What would you know,” She shrugged, smirking.

He looked like he was about to faint from joy. “Oh my God,” he grinned. “Jesus, I never—you know, you think about this sort of thing happening but you never really expect it. This is the stuff of wet dreams. The stuff that only happens in the movies. Oh my God.” He tugged his tie looser.

“Joel?”

“Yes?”

She crawled a few inches closer, stopping at the end of the bed. “Shut up and undo your belt,” she whispered.

He nodded eagerly, fingers pulling at the leather. The sound of the metal clanking filled her with anticipation. She bit at her lip, watching him. Joel looked up at her in the eyes and they shared something silently for a moment. It was an agreement, a pact. It said: this part is for us.

“Take yourself out. You got to see me. I want to see you.”

He unzipped himself slowly, practicing more self control than she thought he’d be able to. Maintaining eye contact with her, he reached into his underwear. Joel opened his mouth, a moan escaping as he rested his cock against his palm. She grinned. He didn’t move, didn’t even try to offer himself any relief. The shaft was already leaking, beads of pre-cum glistening the head.

In an odd way, this made her feel more womanly than she had in a very long time. Maybe in ever. The way he looked at her, eyes so full of want; the way he let her say and do whatever she wanted; the way he listened without question, like he trusted her – it made her feel wanted, needed..

“I know I said masturbation, but do you mind if…Well, I want to put my mouth on you.” She bit at her lip. “Can I do that?”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” he told her, exasperated. “Don’t you know that? Look at you.”

Joel made room between his legs for her body and she got on her knees. He took her head between his hands, smiling. “You sure you want to do this?” he asked her softly. She nodded, reaching forward to take him in her hand.

“Oh,” he moaned, face contorting with pleasure. His hands moved to the back of her head, entangling with her hair, and she leaned forward. Experimentally she licked the top of his shaft, her tongue flat. He ever so slightly thrusted his hips forward at the contact, laughing mutedly once she pulled back to look up at his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, almost inaudibly. He moved a piece of her hair back away from her face. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just that—“

She cut him off, leaning forward again. Her tongue licked the underside of his cock slowly, following a vein up to the top where she sucked lightly, teasingly, at his tip. He worked hard not to rut his hips, his hands tugging a little on her hair, and she opened her mouth, taking him in. She tasted him on her tongue; this wasn’t the wine or the mint of his lips or the clean of his body; it was salty and purely him.

She licked a ring around his head before going down, wetting more of his cock. As she began to take him deeper, testing both him and herself, she found that was more apt at this than she thought; nearly the entirety of him fit in her mouth. Joel’s fingers tugged at her hair when she went back up, doing his best to stay still.

They looked at each other when she sucked at his tip again. It was a marvel to her how pain and pleasure looked so alike, but she found there was a definite difference when he groaned through gritted teeth and told her, “You’re taking me so well.”

The praise settled directly between her thighs. She took him fully in her mouth again and let her own moans vibrate against his cock as she slid a hand between her legs. Joel’s tugs began to grow a little harsher and she reached her free hand around her head, clinching onto one of the responsible arms.

She began to move faster, bopping on his cock, and his moans became more unmanageable, no longer something he could hold back. They were low, throaty, a product of all of his desires. She moaned against him, her hand beginning to work faster, rubbing tight circles around her clit and he began to draw his hips up to match the rhythm of her movements.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his grip on her hair loosening. He shuttered, fingers hovering over her shoulders. “I’m gonna cum. Honey, you better—“

She took him deeper, faster, her tongue running alongside the underside of him. Joel groaned deeply, his hips canting. Moments after she came, rubbing her sensitive clit harder, Joel did the same. His hot seed filled her mouth and drew herself off his cock, satisfied.

As she swallowed, he leaned back in the chair, blissed out. He moved the hair from her face again, breathing heavily. Joel smiled at her. “Thank you,” he told her breathily.

Exhausted, he leaned his head against the back of the chair too. He closed his eyes, laughing. Looking up at him, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, surprised at herself. But not ashamed of anything.

That surprised her more than anything: that she could sit here on her knees, between his open legs, naked and vulnerable, and not feel like she had done anything wrong. Joel didn’t make her feel like what she did was wrong; he basked in it. He leaned forward, once he got over the initial surprise, and kissed her on the lips. That too surprised her. She had put her mouth on him and he still wanted to kiss her. She wondered if he tasted himself – if he liked that idea as much as she did. All of the sudden, she had so many questions for him.

She must’ve been looking at him like he was insane, because he said, “Everything okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It’s fine. More than fine.” She grinned. “You…You kissed me.”

“Did you not want me to?”

“No, I did!” she clarified. “I just…I thought men didn’t like that after women went down on them.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I think that’s stupid, don’t you? You just gave me some of the best head I’ve ever had in my life and you swallowed it! You didn’t have to do that.” He shook his head in disbelief. “No way I’m not gonna kiss you. It sorta kills me to think you’ve been with someone who told you that. Going forth, know you shouldn't do that for men who think that.”

“Yeah,” she responded awkwardly, feeling inexperienced suddenly.

Self-consciously she leaned forward and grabbed her underwear from beside the chair. Joel leaned out and touched her. “Hey,” he said softly, “That wasn’t meant as a lecture or anything. I’m just saying. I’m sure many women, just as smart as you, have fallen for that exact same thing.”

“I know.”

He looked at her, frowning. “It’s okay that you don’t know things. There’s things I don’t know–things I wouldn't mind teaching me.” He paused, drawing himself up in the chair. “How about we make a deal?”

“What kind of deal?” she asked, rising from her knees.

“If you still want to continue with this, we can treat it as a learning experience for us both. No judgments, just experimenting after we experiment.”

She laughed, putting one of her legs in the underwear. “I know how to have sex, Fleischman.”

“I know you do – you’ve very much proved that – but it's obvious someone has got you a bit twisted up. I don’t think there's really a stopping point for sexual experimentation, either. Like today–I didn’t know I liked women who were a little dominant, but now I do. That’s the stuff you learn.”

She looked at him in disbelief. “You’re lying.”

“I’m being 100 percent truthful and I don’t feel self conscious about admitting that.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I worked hard in med school and up until a bit ago, I was with the same woman for a very long time. It’s a simple truth that I have very few notches in my bed post, but I’m not opposed to learning. This whole thing–it could be for you and me as much as for the whole world. We’ll just have a little something for us when we’re done with what we need to do each week. What do you say?”

She considered it, walking around the bed to retrieve the bra. What the hell? she thought.

“Okay,” she told him.

His nose crinkled when he smiled. “That’s the spirit. You wanna get coffee with me in the morning?”

“I think I just want to be your friend right now.”

“That’s okay, but it doesn’t answer the question.”

She paused. “You weren’t asking me out?”

“No, just coffee. Friendly coffee. You can even pay for your own, if it means that much to you.” He leaned forward and grabbed the clipboard off the ground, putting it on the desk.

She was being too cynical.

She smiled. “No, it’s okay. You can pay, what with you having doctor’s wages and all.”

“Oh, thanks, you’re a real pal.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, looking at him. She smiled sincerely.“You are too.”

And for the first time since she had moved to Cicely, she felt she truly had something. Lots of somethings. Coffee in the morning and Joel and this, whatever this was.

It was as life was saying: Fish with no water, meet the sea.

#joel fleischman #northern exposure #joel fleischman x oc #joel fleischman x ofc #northern exposure fic #rob morrow #rob morrow fic #oh my god i did it

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cinnamorollcrybaby · 2 months ago

Note

Hello love!! How are you doing? 💕

I LOVE your works so much!! You are so amazing and talented!! I wanted to thank you for writing the 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 cursed technique Nanami fic, and especially not judging me for it 🫶🏽. I don’t know you but you seem like such a nice and cool person, with that being said… I was thinking about a fic I saw where Saturo Gojo got his wisdom teeth removed and he falls in love with you over again and I thought that would ADORABLE but with Kento 😭 (also I can’t remember who wrote the fic to give credit sorry) So like yeah Nanami would get his wisdom teeth removed and you’d take care of him and he would be such a charming man (he already is) but like just the most fluff thing he’d be like “you’re a very beautiful nurse” “I’m not a nurse but thank you” you feel me? Anyways that was it lol

Much love and take care!! 💗💗

(I don’t know what anon is 😅 is it like your followers cause I see request and people ask if they can be added as anon and I’m like so confused)

You’re my…. my wife?

Tags: Nanami x fem!Reader, established relationship, crack, fluff, suggestive at the end.

An: Hey Anon! Tysm for requesting again. I’m glad you liked the freaky energy fic!! Also, ofc I’ll never judge you for any fic idea (as long as it’s not like straight up deplorable with nasty kinks).

I hope it’s okay, but I changed this fic idea a little because I fear it was a bit too close to the original creator’s idea, and I don’t want to encroach on their idea. However, I hope the vibes are still there that you wanted!!

Your normally strong, doting, intelligent husband has been reduced to a confused mess. Lying in the bed in the sterile infirmary, Shoko carefully monitors his vitals while Satoru recites exactly how it all happened for the nth time.

Your loving, sweet, charming husband was hit with a very specific cursed technique while he was out on a mission with Gojo. Luckily, he was physically unharmed and mostly mentally unharmed as well… except the cursed technique is one that messes with the memory.

The curse didn’t just want to kill Nanami; it wanted to break him. The curse robbed Nanami of his memory of his most precious moments: the one’s that included you.

His hazel eyes scanned the room, wondering why everyone was making such a big fuss over him. He was fine - really.

You sat beside his hospital bed, wanting to hold his hand, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him. Shoko said that his mind may be a bit fragile after having such a crucial part of his memory tampered with.

When his hazel eyes met yours, Nanami stared at you for a moment before shifting in his bed slightly. He looked to be uncomfortable with your sheer presence, which only broke your heart more.

“Were you hit with the cursed technique too?” He finally speaks, looking over at you with a bit of a confused look. He was really trying to piece together why you were here with him.

“Oh, um… no..” You quietly respond with a forced smile. Your heart longed for your husband, and he was right here but he wasn’t your husband.

“Forgive me… Are you Shoko’s apprentice..?” He tries once again to remember. He’s seen your face before. Maybe in a different lifetime.

Satoru and Shoko are silent as they both witness what’s going on between you and Nanami. Holding their breaths, they’re hopeful that he’ll regain his memory at some point. The curse couldn’t just extract memories. As Shoko explained it, the curse probably just kept the memories hidden from Nanami. Your husband will probably slowly start to remember you over time.

“No… I’m not Shoko’s apprentice.” You politely answer again. As bittersweet as this is, it’s certainly a cute scene to see Kento trying to make conversation with you.

“Hm.” He hums to himself quietly before he gazes at you again. His hand combs through his hair, trying to fix it up from lying in the hospital bed, and Satoru quietly snickers.

“Trying to look good for her, Nanamin?” He teases lightheartedly, earning a death glare from your husband. You softly giggle too, realizing what’s going on. Your poor husband isn’t uncomfortable with your presence. He’s nervous.

“Don’t be crude, Satoru. There’s a lady in the room.” He huffs, shaking his head at Satoru’s audacity.

“Aww, thank you, Nanami.” Shoko grins, subtly playing along with Satoru’s tactic.

“I wasn’t talking about you.” Nanami responds flatly before his eyes shift to you in another “secretive” glance, except everyone notices how he keeps looking at you. Your husband can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“I.. apologize for being a bit forward, but do you think we could…” His eyes flicker down to the wedding band that’s proudly sat upon your finger. His face subtly drops to a disappointed look. “Ah, I see. forget what I was saying.”

Shoko and Satoru are nearly losing it. The irony that Nanami is disappointed that he can’t ask you out because you’re married to him is hilarious. You give them a look, and they both quickly excuse themselves from the room, so they can go laugh together.

Once the two are finally out of the room, you smile softly before placing your hand over your husband’s, using your thumb to gently stroke the back of his hand. He looks at you with an unsure look, but he doesn’t remove his hand. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly.

“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t like you touching another man like that…” He mutters quietly, causing you to softly giggle.

“Well, it’s a good thing I am your wife.” You finally reveal to him, unable to keep the secret any longer.

Nanami’s eyes widen, and he looks at you with sparkling eyes but also utter confusion written all over his face. His heart is racing in his chest. The heart monitor starts to beep at a more pressured pace. The pretty woman that has been sitting next to him is his wife…?

“You’re my… my wife?” He asks quietly.

“Mhm.” You hum in agreement before lacing your fingers with his. Your wedding band rubs against his. Both of the gems were cut from the same diamond. His eyes then focus on the joining of your hands, and he notices it too. “We’ve been married for a few years now.” You explain in a calm tone, trying to ease him into the idea of it all.

“I… I’m sorry… I don’t-“ Nanami is rarely off kilter like this, but he’s just trying to wrap his head around it all. You’re his wife… You’re his wife. “I’m sorry- I just can’t seem to remember…”

��It’s okay, Ken. Take your time.” You encourage as you rub on his hand gently.

His eyes fall to his lap, and a small smile curls on his lips. He may not completely comprehend what’s going on, but he knows in his very soul that he’s the luckiest man alive because you’re his wife.

Watching Ken fall in love with you all over again and rediscover all his daily pleasures was a treat. He slowly regained his memory over time: prompted by his senses randomly picking up on familiar sighs, smells, or even tastes.

Ken didn’t only fall in love with you all over again. He fell in love with the life he cultivated with you again. He found himself laughing a bit harder. He squeezed you a bit tighter. He lounged in bed for an extra ten minutes in the morning time to bask in your presence.

Oh, and that’s not to mention the literal tears he cried the first time he felt your cherished cunt after the incident. The way you squeezed around him so intensely… the way it’s so fucking wet — greedily sucking him in… Goddamn, he’s so lucky to have you.

#jjk #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #fanfic #drabble #jjk nanami #nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk gojo #jjk shoko #kento x y/n #kento x you #jjk kento #kento fluff

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pretentious-blonde · 4 months ago

Text

insecurity

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: after you become closer to a certain metalhead, steve can't stop the insecurities that stem from his previous relationship. when it all becomes too much, you are left to deal with his outrage.

warnings: arguments, angst, steve is mean, panic attack (fluff ending ofc)

a/n: idk, this was supposed to be short and sweet but i got carried away!

The bell above you jingled as you entered Family Video, stopping briefly to glance around the shop for a certain brown-haired boy who had managed to capture your heart a little over six months ago. It didn’t take long to spot him, a grin plastered on his face as he stood behind the counter. With crossed arms, leaning his hip against the wooden edge, nodding along half-heartedly to whatever Robin was saying. She sat cross-legged on the desk, arms moving wildly as she spoke, her face lighting up as she noticed your presence.

“There she is! Finally, I can’t tolerate this man for much longer,” she says with a huff, kicking her feet off the counter and pointing at Steve who was clearly not as into the conversation as she was. His attention hasn’t strayed from you since you came in. “Your turn.”

“Lucky for you,” he begins, briefly glancing in Robin’s direction, pointing back towards her as you rounded the corner to emphasise his point. “She tolerates me for hours.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as you leaned into him, whispering a hello before smirking in Robin’s direction. “I’d say it’s more than tolerating,” you add.

Steve has a smug look on his face at your comment, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. You can feel the warmth he radiates through his jumper, his fingers finding your jaw to tilt your head up to meet his eyes.

The moment between you both was swiftly interrupted by a loud gagging noise. “Okay. I’m third-wheeling. Gross.” Robin stated as she hopped off her makeshift throne with a huff.

You roll your eyes, still trapped in Steve’s embrace, not ready to let go just yet. “You sure you’re not just jealous Rob?”

“Pssh,” she scoffs as she throws a VHS tape from one hand to the other. “Sure. If I wanted someone who can’t alphabetise for shit, then yes. I’d be all over Harrington.”

“Ouch,” Steve pipes up from your side. “Also I don’t want to hear anything from you after what you did to the returns bin. It’s chaos.”

“Organised chaos, maybe,” she replies as she points the VHS directly at Steve. “My system is far superior.”

You glance over at your boyfriend, a look of disbelief at her previous statement, he was about to interrupt but Robin quickly changed the subject. “I thought you were supposed to come by here yesterday? Or was I making that up?”

“Oh, I was. But Dustin asked me last minute if I was free,” you tell her. “He introduced to to his friend—Eddie? I think he mentioned him before. We all hung out for a bit.”

The words slip out of your mouth naturally and a small smile graces your lips as you remember the day before. What you don’t notice is the way Steve stiffens beside you. His hand, which was fitted perfectly against your shoulder, tensed slightly. Unbeknownst to you.

“Eddie?” He asks, forcing his voice to stay light and cheerful. He wouldn’t dream of dampening your bright mood. Not when you had gone out of your way to drop by and see him. Although, that fact did nothing to stop the unsettling feeling in his stomach.

You nod enthusiastically as he pays you his full attention, admiring the way your hair bounces along with your movements. It briefly distracts him from overthinking, that is, until you open your pretty mouth again. “Yeah, you know Dustin—he’s always finding new people to drag into his D&D world. Eddie’s super into it, too.”

His jaw tightens, his smile falters and he hopes to god you don’t notice, masking it with a casual nod. Eddie Munson, he thinks and cannot help the bitterness he feels. Of course, he remembers the metal head from high school, Dustin had been mentioning him more too. He never cared about popularity, the social hierarchy. Just… did his own thing. No matter what others thought of him.

Steve was all Ralph Lauren polos and Members Only jackets, tender smiles and sickly sweet kisses. Eddie was band patches and ripped jeans, unapologetic and confident. Not like Steve at all. The total opposite in fact.

He glances at you in the corner of his eye, then quickly back to the counter, the knot in his chest growing tighter. He knew, he knew, he was reading too much into it, but he just couldn’t stop himself. Especially after Nancy broke his heart. It was only when he met you that it began to heal again.

Is that what you’re into? The carefree, rebellious type? While Steve has spent his entire high school career trying to fit the mold, Eddie has smashed it. And what did he have to show for it? A washed-up ex-popular kid working at a video store? Not a lot, clearly.

“So… what did you guys get up to?” He asks, fiddling with the pen on the desk, trying to act as indifferent as possible.

“Not much. Just hung out, talked about D&D for a bit,” you reply with a shrug. “Dustin thinks he is some kind of genius when it comes to that game.”

Robin chimes into the conversation, unaware of the tension radiating from the brunette next to you. “Well, if you’re into D&D Eddie is the go-to around here,” she tells you. “It sounds like you’re his next recruit.”

Steve’s laugh is forced this time, and you notice it, a small frown appearing on your face. He curses himself internally, quickly leaning over to place a kiss on the side of your head, a reassuring gesture for the both of you. “Sounds fun,” he says softly. “Maybe next time I could tag along.”

Just so he can see what Eddie’s intentions are, see if he is testing his luck with you. He has already lost one girlfriend to another guy so it seemed like a normal thing to investigate. Nothing weird about that… right?

You laugh and shake your head, patting his broad chest playfully. “Trust me, Steve, you don’t have to do that. D&D is certainly not your thing.”

He deflated at your statement, even though it was definitely true. He lets out a chuckle to ease the insecurity he is feeling. “Yeah, I’ll leave the nerd stuff to Dustin and Eddie,” he says, trying to play it off as nothing serious.

You see the sad look that penetrates his features, mistaking it for him just feeling left out. You grab his hand and give it a small squeeze. “Am I still alright to come over to your tomorrow? Evening sound good?” You ask, hoping he could see how much you still wanted to spend time with him, despite your new friend.

“Of course, angel,” he replies, completely melting at the soft tone of your voice, looking up at him with those gentle eyes of yours. You could probably make him do anything with that expression on your face. He can’t resist stealing another kiss from you when you look like that. You smile up at him as he reluctantly pulls away.

“Okay, great!” You wave as you make your way to the door, bell ringing as you open it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He watches you leave until you are no longer visible, the tightness in his stomach easing ever so slightly at the thought of having you all to himself tomorrow. Just him. His girl.

As soon as he turns around, Robin is smirking directly at him, arms crossed across her chest. “So, what’s the deal with Eddie?” She asks, her tone teasing. “You gonna join Hellfire now?”

Steve rolls his eyes at her, already dreading the incoming round of quips. “Hell no, I’m not touching that stuff.”

“Aw, c’mon Steve. I think you would make a great dungeon master,” she doesn’t even bother trying to hide the laugh that is bubbling in her throat. “You certainly are dramatic enough for it, you know? ‘King Steve’ and all that.”

“Yeah right,” he mutters, growing more irritated by the second. He usually had all the time in the world for her jabs, but currently? The tapes in his hands were the most interesting thing in the world to him as he tried to brush her off. “I’m retired from the whole ‘king’ thing, remember?”

She grins as she leans across the wooden counter, standing on her tiptoes to get closer to him. “True, true. But at least we know Eddie is pretty chill now, we don’t just have to take Dustin’s word for it.”

There it is, that name again—Eddie. He says nothing as he grabs more tapes off the side. Not that it served any purpose, just anything to keep his hands busy and mind preoccupied.

“I mean, I have never really spoken to him,” she continued as she paced the shop floor, stopping only to place another VHS in her ‘newly organised’ returns section. “But he’s got that whole ‘rebel without a cause’ thing going on. You know? It’s pretty admirable.”

Yeah, I know, Steve thinks sourly. That’s precisely the problem. He does know. The free spirit who never once cared about fitting in, or pleasing anyone, and now here he was—Dustin’s new best friend and the subsequent new guy in your life.

“Yeah, well,” Steve forces out another fake laugh, just as badly hidden as the first. “Good for him.”

Robin turns to face him directly, noticing the strain in his voice. “You’re not… jealous, are you?”

Her question catches him off guard, fumbling with the tape in his hand and nearly dropping it. “What? No. Why would I be jealous of Eddie Munson?”

“Alright, alright, no need to get defensive,” she holds her hands up in surrender, her eyes still trained on him. “It’s just… I don’t know. You’re acting weird?”

He didn’t respond right away, focusing on a blank point between two VHS tapes in front of him, he repeated the question in his mind. Weird? He wasn’t being weird. Was he?

Shrugging his shoulders casually, he glances at the clock, suddenly wishing for the small arms to go faster so he could see you again—just the two of you. No Eddie. No distractions. Just you and him alone. Maybe then he could stop himself from spiralling. He couldn’t get the thought out of his mind for the rest of his shift, not when he had seen this story play out once before, with him ending up on the losing side.

Laughter filled the cramped space of Eddie’s trailer. Dustin had invited you over here a few hours earlier and now here you were, doubled over on his couch, clutching at your sides as Eddie continues his ridiculous story. “And then—then he turned around and slammed right into the closet door! Swear to God, I thought he was gonna be out cold!” He finished, completely in stitches at his own tale.

Dustin was practically rolling on the floor at this point, teeth on full show as he tried to get his words out cohesively. “How did you find these people, Eddie?!” He gasped between his giggles.

You were wiping away the tears from your eyes, way past the point of caring if your makeup was smudged. As you came back to reality, you glanced over at the clock, freezing completely as you registered the time.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, your stomach dropping. “Guys, I gotta go. Like—like right now.”

You immediately leapt up off the worn-out couch, grabbing your jacket in a hurry and shoving your feet into your shoes. You had about ten minutes to be at Steve’s front door and had completely lost track of the time. “He’s gonna kill me,” you mumbled under your breath as you reached for your bag. Even though it wasn’t true, it was more likely he would be moping around the living room, glancing at the front door every couple of minutes awaiting your arrival. Just sad that he couldn’t get to spend more time with you. Steve didn’t get angry with you. Ever.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his form still draped across the couch. “What’s the rush princess? Hot date with Steve?”

You briefly glanced over in his direction, looking increasingly flustered. “Well, yeah,” you admitted. “I was supposed to be there, uh, now.”

Before you could bolt out the door, you heard a groan coming from across the room. “Don’t sweat it, I’ll drive you.” Eddie rose from his seat and grabbed his keys from the coffee table in front of him, twirling them around his finger. “No way I’m letting you bike all the way there.”

You blinked in surprise at his offer. “Really? Are you sure? You honestly don’t have to—“

Eddie waved his hand in your direction, ignoring your concern. “It’s no problem. Besides, I’m not gonna be responsible for you showing up at Steve’s all sweaty and out of breath. The guy would kill me,” He shot a teasing grin in your direction as he headed to the door, holding it open as both you and Dustin ducked under his arm, heading straight for his van.

The journey was easy, with Eddie being a surprisingly safe driver, music as loud as his personality. In between the heavy guitar riffs that thumped through the radio, he turned to you with a mischievous expression. “So… you and Steve, huh?”

You felt the blush rise to your cheeks at his comment, not getting a chance to respond as he continued. “I just meant you’re good together, you know? I never really saw him as the ‘settle down with a girlfriend’ type. But hey, they say love changes a person.”

You drew your gaze away from the passing trees, unable to hold the smile that had spread across your face. “Yeah, he’s—he’s really great,” you admitted softly. You could barely put into words how great he was without gushing, so that small line would have to do for now. If Eddie only saw how Steve treated you, both in public and private, all his questions would certainly be answered.

Steve may not have had the same chaotic energy as Eddie or Dustin, but that didn’t matter one bit. Steve was… solid. Reliable. He made you feel safe. Made you feel cherished.

The long-haired boy next to you shrugged, his tone still kind. “Hey, if Dustin likes him, well that’s saying something. The kid is picky when it comes to his friends.”

Dustin, now making his presence known from the back seat, spoke up. “Damn right!”

As Eddie pulled up in front of the large house, he leaned over the centre controls, giving you a playful nudge. “Don’t keep him waiting any longer. I bet he is pacing a hole in the floor.”

You playfully glare at him as you pop the door open. “He’s not that bad.”

“Sure,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Well, tell him Dustin and I said hey.”

“Will do,” you replied as you hopped out of the van. You waved at the two of them as they began to drive away, heavy metal music blaring as they faded into the distance. Your smile from Eddie’s previous comment was still lingering on your lips as you bounded up to the front door, excitedly ringing the bell.

What you didn’t see was Steve had witnessed the entire interaction from his window—your expression as you laughed with Eddie and Dustin, how you looked so at ease and comfortable around them. You hadn’t even known them for that long. The sight twisted something ugly up inside of him, insecurities that were larger than he knew. He didn’t know how to handle them, the thought of being left behind.

The door swung open after a few moments, and there stood your Steve, leaning casually against the door frame as he looked you up and down. God, he was whipped. “Hey, there you are,” he said with that classic, easy, Steve smile, relief washing over him the second he laid eyes on you.

You took a step forward, eager to close the distance between the two of you as you wrapped your arms around his waist “Sorry I’m late.”

He chucked as he returned your embrace, sturdy arms enveloping you. “No worries, I’m always happy to wait.”

The statement was true. Way too true, and that fact started to scare him.

You leaned up to press your lips against his, he was soft, familiar, and for a second, it felt like everything was perfect. He held the door open for you to step inside, the scent of his earthy cologne filled your senses.

He followed you into the living room, watching you kick off your shoes, holding his arm out just in case you toppled over. He had made that mistake only once in the past, the bruise on your leg was huge. You’re clumsy nature may have been endearing, but he’ll be damned if you hurt yourself on his watch.

“You didn’t ride your bike?” He asked, subtly trying to figure out exactly why you had gotten out of the familiar van.

“I was lucky Eddie offered me a lift. I kind of lost track of time,” you said nonchalantly, kicking your shoes into the corner.

His posture stiffened for the briefest moment at your confirmation. Honestly, he had hoped that what he saw five minutes earlier was just a figment of his imagination. “Oh, cool,” he forced himself to keep his tone light. “That was nice of him.”

You didn’t notice how fake the plastered smile on his face was as you settled onto the couch, already making yourself at home as you reached for the throw blanket. “So, what’s the plan for tonight hm? Movies? Snacks? Oh, did you order pizza?” You rambled, getting more excited with each question. It put his mind at ease a little bit to see you this giddy with excitement. If he let himself believe that he was the cause, maybe he could stop worrying.

He beamed and moved to join you, resting his head against the pillows as he glanced down at your pure expression. “All of the above, sweetheart. But we are not repeating what you told me a few weeks ago that eating leftover pizza for breakfast was ‘nutritionally balanced’.”

You giggled as you unfurled the blanket, taking extra care to make sure he was fully covered. “It is balanced! Carbs, protein, maybe a vegetable if there’s a stray pepper.”

“Right,” Steve smirked as he drew out the word, trying to get on board with your reasoning. Reaching over for the remote to turn the movie on.

As the credits for the cheesy rom-com rolled across the screen, you stretched your stiff body out. You untucked yourself from his side, resulting in a frown from Steve, not quite ready to let you go yet.

“I still don’t get why we always watch these,” you speak over the ending soundtrack. “All the girl ever does is swoon over the guy, ignoring all the red flags until it’s too late.”

He rests his arm on the back of the couch, placing his chin on top of it to give you his full attention. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a happy ending.”

You roll your eyes and nudge his foot with your own. “Such a romantic.”

Steve blushes before turning away, giving you a casual shrug. “I just like them. Who knows, I could always start serenading you under your window, the whole nine yards.”

“Serenade, huh?” You chuckle, angling your head to lean against his arm. “Do you even know how to play an instrument?”

He drew his face towards you, scrunching his nose in your direction. “I can learn. Get some guitar lessons.”

Maybe you like guitar. Eddie plays the guitar.

You giggle at the mental image of Steve strumming clumsily, tongue poking out in concentration, getting frustrated with the sheet music that would be scattered around him. “Oh, I’d pay to see that.”

He runs his hand through your hair, admiring your soft features illuminated by only the TV screen. “You wouldn’t have to pay. If you wanted it, I’d do it for free.”

He meant every word. If it kept you in his life, he would practise until his fingers bled.

“Has anyone told you how much of a sap you are?” You ask, but it lacks its usual teasing.

“Yeah, but I’m your sap,” he replies, words overflowing with tenderness.

You look at him closely. Really look at him. His loving smile falters slightly under your gaze, eyes flickering downwards to hide his expression more.

Shifting towards him, you lay a hand across his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart quicken at your touch. “What’s wrong?”

Steve blinks, another smile forced, not quite reaching his eyes. God, why did you have to ask it like that? In a sweet tone, filled with concern. He thought he was good at lying. All those secret parties he held in his parent’s absence, brushing off their questions about various missing decorations that most likely had been broken. Nobody noticed when his heart was broken a few years back. When he could hardly drag himself to work. But somehow, you could pick him apart easily.

“Nothing,” he lies, trying to brush you off. “Just…thinking.”

“About what?”

He sighs, his fingers tracing an aimless pattern on your shoulder as he avoids looking at you. “Just…us, I guess. Wondering if I’m actually good at this whole ‘boyfriend’ thing or if you’re just humouring me.”

The confession made him feel exposed. He regretted saying anything at all.

You frown at his admission, “What? Why would you think that?” You can’t hide the shock from your voice. This is the same boy who kept your favourite tea stocked in his cupboard, the same boy who built your entire bookcase when you mentioned you were struggling with the instructions, the same boy who even phoned the doctor’s office for you when you were too scared to talk to the receptionist.

He ticked every box and more, your heart broke for how he felt.

“I don’t know…Sometimes I wonder if I’m gonna screw this up. Like, if I’m just temporary.” His eyes are still glued to his lap, unable to look away. If only he didn’t have this much baggage.

You furrow your brows, reaching up to cup his cheek, tilting his head so he’s forced to meet your eyes. “Steve, you’re not temporary. Okay? You’re not some placeholder to me.”

He leans into your touch, his hand covering yours for a moment. But even though he smiles softly at your words, the doubt still lingers in his eyes.

“I guess we’ll see,” he murmurs, the vulnerability heavy in his voice.

You sigh, realising this is a result of something more going on, but you still give him a gentle look. You have no problem reassuring him. You could tell him one hundred times how cherished he is without complaint. As many times as it took to make the message stick. If that’s what it took, you would gladly do it.

Steve was buzzing as soon as he got off the phone with Kieth. His presence at the video store was not required today, and he had been planning how to surprise you all morning. Acting as giddy as a high schooler. He hadn’t had the chance to see you since you last hung out at his place and he really wanted to do something sweet. Not out of the lingering insecurity he was feeling, but he wanted to see you happy. Especially when it was because of him.

He tried to go the extra mile today, waking up early and driving to the nice florist on the other side of town, just to make sure he got the freshest flowers. A little effort from him means a big smile from you—totally worth it in his book. The bouquet was huge, it sat in your usual place, in the passenger seat. He specifically chose your favourite colour as the wrapping paper, and the bow that secured it too. Smiling to himself as he pictured your reaction.

Climbing the steps to your little apartment, something you were so excited to finally be able to afford with your job, his heart beat with anticipation. He easily fished out the spare key you had given him, smiling as the tiny keychain dangled from it—a tiny VHS tape you had been so proud to find at the flea market, insisting on putting it on yourself because it ‘needed some flair’. It was a thoughtful gesture, it made him feel warm whenever he saw it.

Holding his breath to not make any noise, he unlocked your door and gently pushed it open, careful not to startle you. His eyes immediately landed on the couch—and his whole world froze.

There, sprawled out on the couch, was none other than Eddie Munson. Looking the same as he always did, completely relaxed In his worn Metalica t-shirt and scuffed trainers.

The worst part wasn’t just him. It was you. Your head resting in his lap, and Eddie was absently playing with a strand of your hair. He glanced up at Steve’s entrance and immediately put a finger to his lips, signalling Steve to stay quiet. His blood boiled at the gesture.

“Shh,” Eddie whispered, gesturing to you. “She’s asleep.”

He was glued to the spot. What the fuck is he doing here?

Eddie carefully lifted your head off his legs, swapping himself out for a pillow, taking extra care not to rouse you.

“Hey, man,” he greeted casually as he stood, stretching out his arms like this wasn’t the single most infuriating sight Steve had ever seen. “We were just hanging out, watching some trash TV. She was out like a light.”

His voice was still a whisper as he explained what happened, trying to add some humour to the situation. “Probably for the best, I mean. I can watch crappy shit all day, but even this was painful to sit through. No big deal.”

Steve’s jaw clenched. Hard. His grip on the flowers tightened until he could feel a few give way under the pressure. No big deal? You’ve got to be kidding me. He felt a surge of possessiveness course through him, igniting an anger he believed was dormant. His mind began to race, everything he had been trying to ignore had bubbled straight back up to the surface like a ticking time bomb. She is that comfortable to fall asleep on him?!

Eddie, completely oblivious to Steve’s thinly veiled fury, patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry, but I gotta be heading myself. Wayne’ll be wondering where I’ve been.” He said, giving him a small smile as if this was a totally normal situation for the two of you. “Take care, man.” With that, Eddie slipped past him, closing the door silently as he exited.

The apartment felt eerily quiet as Steve just stood there, staring at the door, trying to wrap his head around what the hell just happened. Unbelievable. He rediverted his attention back to you, still soundly asleep on the couch, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside of him. He crossed the room slowly, as if on autopilot, mind a nasty mix of anger and jealousy. You fell asleep on Eddie. Eddie, of all people. How long were you two just... sitting there like that?

He took a seat in the armchair opposite, memories of the two of you trying to squeeze onto it now bitterly replaying in his mind. The flowers were still clutched in his hand, forgotten in his flood of emotions.

He didn’t want to acknowledge what he had just walked in on. His heart beat painfully in his chest. This is how it starts, right? He thought bitterly. Starts all innocent like this. I’ve seen this before. I’ve lived this before. His mind flashed back to that goddamn Halloween party, to the nights he thought things were fine, only to realise too late that he had been left behind—again.

Steve exhaled sharply, frustration gnawing at him. It’s happening. It’s fucking happening again. He was always second best. His parents, Nancy, Dustin, you.

He glanced down at the flowers in his hand, the stems crushed from his tense grip. They were supposed to be part of a sweet surprise, a way to make you smile, but now... now they just felt like a cruel joke. With him being the punchline. As per usual.

He set them down on the coffee table and leaned backwards, his gaze locked on your peaceful sleeping form, his mind a mess. His foot tapped impatiently against the floor. He was fuming—so mad he could barely think straight.

The room was in complete silence as you began to stir awake, reaching your arms above your head lazily. You blinked a few times as you returned to reality, the soft haze of sleep still lingering. You heard your back pop and you groaned at the sensation, falling asleep on the couch had been a terrible idea.

You let out a brief yawn and look around for Eddie, but instead, your eyes land on your boyfriend. He sat across from you, arms crossed tensely, his expression neutral. He wasn’t smiling, which was odd for him. In fact, he looked angry.

“When did you get here?” Your forehead crinkled in confusion, voice still raspy with sleep as you asked. “Where did Eddie go?”

Steve shifted in the chair, leaning back and spreading his legs further apart. “Eddie left a while ago,” he snapped, his tone was sharp and clipped. “I got the day off work.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” your brain still trying to piece the information together. “You should have called.”

He scoffed as he shook his head, a lock of brown hair escaping to rest against his forehead. “Yeah, well. I wasn’t aware you had other plans.”

You sat up straighter on the couch, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach. His tone—he never spoke to you like that. It sounded frustrated, irritated. Like you had done something wrong. You wracked your brain trying to think of anything that would have upset him, eventually coming up short. Eddie’s presence here didn’t even pass through your mind, there is no way Steve would be that possessive. Could he?

“Steve…what’s wrong?” You asked cautiously, concern creeping into your voice. “Why are you mad?”

His brown eyes darkened, his face twisting with an expression you had never seen before. All the insecurity he had been feeling, all the unresolved emotions, came crashing to the surface in a wave of anger. It was frightening. He was frightening you.

“You wanna know what’s wrong?” He barked out a laugh, one that was filled with no humour. “I come over here, thinking I’m gonna surprise my girlfriend. But instead? I find her asleep on the town freak.”

Your heart sank. He spat the words out as if they tasted vile on his tongue. You never knew that he could be this vicious, the foul name that just spewed from his lips made your throat tighten. “Steve, that’s not—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, his voice bitter as he continued. “You think I’m stupid? Like I don’t see what’s going on here? You and Eddie. He’s always around, and suddenly, you’re all buddy-buddy with him, falling asleep on his lap like it’s no big deal. I mean—Jesus, sweetheart—how dense do you think I am?”

“Steve, it wasn’t like that,” your voice broke as you struggled to speak. The nickname that had always been filled with such love was now venomous, you struggled to understand what was happening. Why he wasn’t listening? Why wasn’t he trusting you?

“We were just hanging out, watching TV—“

“Oh yeah? Just watching TV? Sure,” Steve spat, getting up to start pacing, the adrenaline coursing through his body was too much. His mind was racing, old memories resurfacing, ones that he would rather not think about only helped fuel his rage. He turned back to you, eyes wild with fury.

“Moved on pretty quick, huh?” He ran a hand over his face, voice dripping with resentment. “I mean, I gotta hand it to you, honey. But you could have tried a little harder before the secret spilt out eventually.”

Tears formed in your waterline as you tried your best not to let them fall. “How could you say that?” You took in a shaky breath. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Oh, don’t do that,” he pointed a finger at you. “Don’t act all innocent here. I’ve seen this shit before, okay? Little things that aren’t that little. Don’t play dumb, it’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not!” You protested, not caring about the tears that now flowed freely down your cheeks. “I love you, Steve. Please. Eddie is just a friend.”

He rolled his eyes, your pleading falling on deaf ears. “Yeah, ‘just a friend’,” he muttered hostilely. “Sure.”

His words cut deep, and you felt yourself crumble under the weight of them. You began to panic as you realised there was no way out of this. Not when he was so dead set on believing what he wanted. You could only stare back at him in disbelief, heart breaking at how trivial this argument is.

“I thought you left this high school crap behind you,” you whispered, scared and unsure of how he would react.

“Yeah, well, some things never change.” He shot back, his tongue still as fast as it had been back then. He mentioned how he was in school a few times in the past, but now you could really see it. The petty boy who would say anything in the heat of the moment. The boy who could pick the thing that would hurt the most.

The room fell into a heavy silence, staring at one another, the distance between you growing more and more with each passing second. You could barely recognise the man standing only a few feet away. You wanted to reach out to him, plead with him to just stop. Go back to being Steve. Your Steve.

“I can’t believe what you’re saying,” you managed to choke out, wiping at your eyes with the sleeves of your jumper. “You’re hurting me.”

Steve hesitated for a moment, a brief flash of guilt flickered across his face at the sight of your tears. His beautiful girl was torn apart by what he was insinuating. But he was too far gone. His misplaced anger was the only thing he could feel right now, pushing him further. “Yeah well, now you know how that feels.”

A sob wracked through your body, his statement feeling like a dagger to your chest. He made his way towards the door to leave, his gaze landed on the stack of VHS tapes by the TV. He knew he should walk away, but a petty bitterness surged through him. He could never resist getting one final jab in.

“Make sure you return those by the weekend. Late fees now apply, sweetheart.” He sneered, lips turning into a snarl.

With that, he tossed the flowers he’d brought for you onto the table, the delicate petals now scattered across it. You stared at them, your vision blurred by your tears as Steve stormed out of your apartment. He slammed the door sharply as he left, making you flinch.

As soon as he was gone, you collapsed onto the couch, finally allowing yourself to cry uncontrollably. You didn’t understand how everything had spiralled so fast. How the man who was so sweet, so kind, had turned into this.

On the other side of the door, Steve’s heart was racing, pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. He leaned against the wall for a moment and shut his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control as the rage he felt dissipated.

He wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty, not over this. He didn’t jump to conclusions, not when the signs were so clear to him.

He stumbled down the stairs and got into his car, foot pressing down hard on the accelerator as he drove away. Each mile felt heavier than the last. He couldn’t allow himself to question what he had said, besides, it was too late to take it all back now. What he couldn’t answer was why he felt so much more empty as he pulled up to his house. Alone.

Steve pushed open the door to Family Video, the small bell above him chiming as he trudged inside. It felt like it was mocking him, only adding to his sour mood. He was fifteen minutes late, something that never went unnoticed by Robin.

His eyes looked and felt drained, dark circles framing his eyes from his obvious lack of sleep. The night before had been hell. All he had done was toss and turn, replaying the argument with you over and over again in his head until he was sick of it. His chest ached from all the emotions that were still swirling inside of him. Anger, sadness, and a terrifying amount of regret that he wasn’t sure what to do with.

Robin was at the counter, tapping away at the computer when she saw him walk in. Her face lit up, clearly excited to spill something. “There you are! You won’t believe what I’m about to tell you. I saw Vicky at the movies yesterday and—“

“Rob, I’m really not in the mood today.” He interrupted her, rubbing a hand over his brows.

The girl froze, her face contorting with confusion. Usually, Steve lived for gossip like this. In fact, he almost always begged for it.

“Wait…what? You were off yesterday. Shouldn’t you be, like, all refreshed or something? What, did you party too hard without me?”

He shot her a glare, making it crystal clear that something was wrong. Of course, being ever curious, Robin was not going to let this slide.

“Oh, no. Spill it, Harrington.” She began, leaving the computer to follow his quick steps. “You come in late, looking like shit, and now you’re all moody? Did something happen yesterday?”

Steve sighed, running a hand through his messy hair he hadn’t even bothered to brush. Not willing to humour her at all today. “Robin, please—”

“Please what? I’m not gonna stop asking. C’mon, let it out. I’m all ears. I’ll even sit down for this one.” She says dramatically as she hops up onto the counter, crossing her legs, glancing at him expectantly as if she had all the time in the world.

Steve groaned loudly. “Fine, fine. You want to know what happened?” He said, exasperated. “I walked in yesterday, excited to surprise my girl, and guess what I saw? Eddie. Like, she had her head in his lap and everything. They were all over each other. It was disgusting.”

Robin scrunched her eyebrows as she processed his words. “Eddie? The Eddie Munson?” She squinted, looking even more confused. “Are we talking about the same Eddie here? The one who’s completely obsessed with Chrissy Cunningham? I mean, he’s had it bad for her for years. That Eddie?”

“What? Chrissy?” Steve frowned, pausing as her words sank in. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Robin tilted her head at him like he was an idiot. Which she would say was most of the time. “Uh, yeah? He’s been pining after her for, like, ever. He never had the guts to ask her out. Everyone knows that.”

She carried on talking as if this was common knowledge, which maybe it was. The knowledge was just not that common to Steve, apparently. “So Eddie’s into your girl now? Are you sure about that?”

He felt his stomach drop, trying to ignore the rising panic in his chest. “I mean… yeah. Pretty sure? He was, like, touching her and they were—“ He stopped halfway through his sentence, doubt now taking over.

Was that really all he saw? Surely not. He couldn’t have gotten so mad about just that, there had to be more. Only, nothing really came to mind.

Robin raises an eyebrow. “Touching her, huh? And that exactly happened? No skipping details.”

Steve scratched the back of his head as he tried to recall the events from the evening prior, his anxiety continued to grow as he spoke. “I saw him drop her off at my place the other day. She got out of his van, and they looked all… close. Then, when I went to her apartment earlier, I walk in, and there she is, asleep across his lap.”

Robin took a second to process what he was saying, speaking slowly as she tried to wrap her head around the situation. “So… you’re mad because she fell asleep with him on the couch? While watching TV? That’s what you’re telling me?”

Steve’s breath hitched in his throat, immediately getting defensive, trying to prove that he wasn’t just overreacting. “Well, yeah, but it’s the way she was with him. It was just too… cosy.”

She could not believe what she was hearing as she stared at the boy blankly. “Dude, we do that stuff all the time. Like, every movie night.”

Steve's stomach twisted. He felt sick. “Yeah, but…that’s different. This is—” He couldn’t continue. There was no solid ground for him to stand on. The knowledge of that was overwhelming. Fuck.

Robin narrowed her eyes, still determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. “Okay, I still don’t get it. What did you do?”

He shifted uncomfortably at her questions, his guilt was building inside of him as the true terror set in. “I, uh… I may have been a complete asshole.”

Her eyes widened at the admission. “Define ‘complete asshole.’”

Steve’s hands shook as he brought them up to his forehead, slightly damp from his growing fear. “I called Eddie the ‘town freak’—fuck—and I—“ He paused and took a breath in, the consequences of his insecurities now coming into the light. “I told her we were over basically…she asked me to stop hurting her.”

Robin’s jaw dropped, feeling outraged at the way her best friend had acted. That was not something she could ever stand beside, no matter how close they were. “You what? Steve, that's fucking insane! I can’t believe you drove her to the point of even having to say that!”

The world seemed distorted as Steve became short of breath, he had to rest a hand on the counter to keep himself steady, the tight grip becoming painful. “I don’t know! I just—it all came out. I couldn’t stop myself—shit. What—what do I do?”

Robin started at him, completely stunned and equally irked. “Steve,” she said, the stern tone felt foreign on her tongue. “This is not just ‘I messed up a little’—you blew it, dude.”

He was breathing faster now, mouth barren, limbs turning slightly numb. The panic had now set in fully. “No, no, no. Don’t say that. I can fix it, right? I always fix it. I have to fix it, Robin. Please, help me fix it!” His voice increased as he got the words out, hands trembling in front of him.

She looked at him, she was no less annoyed, but she couldn’t help but pity her friend. Especially when he looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown like this. He was a wreck right now and needed someone.

“Okay, fine. I’ll help you,” Steve sighed in relief, however, she wasn’t finished. “But I’m seriously not happy about any of this. If she doesn’t take you back, you have to deal with it, Steve. This is on you.”

Steve nodded frantically, hair flying everywhere as he clung to the small sliver of hope. “Anything. I’ll do anything. I can’t lose her, Robin. I just… I can’t”

She folded her arms, her face remaining stoic to show her displeasure with him. “Alright. We will think of something, and you better pray to God she hears you out. You have got a lot of sucking up to do Harrington.”

He muttered quiet a thank you, his heart not slowing down. He couldn’t afford to lose you, not over this, not because of his own self-doubt. Please, he thought to himself. Please for the love of God don’t let her leave me.

For ten long minutes, Steve had been standing outside your apartment, heart hammering in his chest as he stared at the shut door. Ten agonising minutes of him just waiting, stalling, trying to muster up the courage to raise his hand and just knock. He could have used the spare key that was burning a hole in his back pocket, but that wouldn’t be right. Not after what he did. He had to do this the right way if he had any chance of forgiveness. This wasn’t a situation that could be fixed with flowers or chocolates. He had spoken to Robin for the whole of yesterday, and they both agreed—he needed to own up to everything that transpired, to apologise, even if it was hard. Even if it was terrifying.

Because losing you? That wasn’t an option.

With a deep breath, he rapped his knuckles against the solid wood. The second he made contact with the door, his stomach flipped. He wanted to run. To turn around and bolt. But he couldn’t. Not this time. He had too much to lose—you. The sweet, kind girl who had always made him feel seen, made him feel held. How could he walk away from that without trying?

It wasn’t long before the door creaked open, the sight of you nearly knocked all the air out of his lungs. You’d been crying, that much was obvious. Your eyes were red, puffy, and filled with the hurt that he had caused. If that wasn’t enough to crush him, you were clad in one of his old hoodies—one he’d left at your place months ago. Seeing you wrapped up in something of his twisted the knife so deep that he nearly staggered back before he caught himself.

You immediately moved to shut the door, not willing to let him hurt you more, but Steve panicked. “Please, please, angel don’t,” his voice cracked as he begged to be let in, his hand pushing lightly against the door, so desperate to keep it open. Desperate to not be shut out before he could even try to say sorry. “I need to talk to you. Please.”

You paused, removing your hand and gently taking a step away from the entrance. You crossed your arms as you looked at him, still visibly upset, your voice sharp but exhausted. The tone pulled at his chest. “You’ve got five minutes Steve. Then I want you out of here.”

He nodded eagerly, grateful for a chance, no matter how slim. “Of course, anything…I’ll take anything. Just…please.”

You let him in, both stepping further into the flat, his eyes immediately locked onto the sight of the coffee table. The flowers he picked up yesterday were still sitting there—petals scattered everywhere, beginning to dry up and wilt.

You couldn’t bear to touch them after he tossed them there the day before, you had hardly left your bedroom due to their presence. A brutal reminder of what happened. He felt sick to his stomach with the knowledge of how badly he hurt you. How you couldn’t even deal with the ruined gift because they were tied to him. To the things he said.

You fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie, now feeling embarrassed while wearing it, nervous as to what he could possibly say to make this right. If he even wanted to make it right. You honestly didn’t know.

He turned to you, words catching in his throat as he tried to figure out where to even start with this. He had gone over this with Robin multiple times yesterday, but the sight of you completely threw him.

“I—I’m sorry, angel,” he stammered, that was a good place to start, his voice as rough as he continued. “I’m so, so sorry. For everything. For not thinking. For not believing you. For… for making you cry. I didn’t mean to—I swear, I didn’t.”

You stood firm, arms not moving from their crossed position. You weren’t giving in easily, not this time. You had every single right to be upset. Steve has frightened you. He was mean and spiteful, lashing out at you instead of listening. His jealousy was ugly.

He fumbled for more words, his hands beginning to shake. “I…I was an asshole, I hate that I hurt you. I just…I freaked out, okay? I thought—“ He stopped, swallowing thickly as his emotions threatened to choke him fully. “I thought I was going to lose you. Like…like I lost Nancy.”

Your expression shifted slightly, but you remained silent, allowing him to continue.

His voice grew quieter, more pained. “Halloween, a few years back, Nancy told me I was just…bullshit. Jonathan swept in after that. And when I saw you with Eddie—fuck—I just—” He ran a hand through his brown hair, pulling harder at the ends as his frustration grew. “Eddie’s already got Dustin. He’s…he’s got everything. And I thought he’d take you too. And I just…I panicked. I know it’s stupid, okay? I was just—“

He was rambling now and he knew it, the words were tumbling out faster than he could stop them. He only had five minutes, he needed you to understand. To please understand him.

“I was so fucking scared, honey. I’m scared you’ll wake up one day and realise that I’m bullshit. That you’ll find someone better. Someone who isn’t…who isn’t me.” His voice cracked again at his attempt to hold back the tears that clouded his vision.

You let out a small sigh, your expression wary. You couldn’t let your guard down, not yet at least.

“Steve…what happened yesterday was not okay. You hurt me. A lot.”

“I know,” he said in a hushed tone, his voice barely louder than a breath. “I know I did, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. I swear, I’ll be better. I’ll be so much better—if you’ll let me. You deserve everything, sweetheart. A-and I’ll give it to you, I promise. Just…please. Please let me prove that.”

Steve’s voice broke as the overwhelming dread overflowed, what had once been a gentle simmering below the surface now coursed through his entire body. No, he thought, It’s not working. It’s not fucking working.

His hands were quivering uncontrollably, his vision blurred as his thoughts spiralled. Everything was crashing down around him—the fear, the memories, the guilt.

He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t lose you. Not you.

“I—I can’t,” Steve stammered, his words short as they came out in small gasps. He backed up slightly, he didn’t know if he was scared of your presence or himself at this point. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I’m so—so fucking scared, I—“

His hands flew to his face in a weak attempt to hold himself together, his breath coming out in frantic bursts. His whole body shook involuntarily. Nancy, his parents, the same gut-wrenching feeling of being told he wasn’t enough. Wasn’t loved. That he was unimportant. Just temporary.

You were stuck, rooted to where you stood, watching him unravel. And in that moment, you didn’t know what to do. The Steve you knew so well—the confident, charming, self-assured Steve—was crumbling before your eyes, his fear felt so raw, so overwhelming that it broke your heart to witness it.

“Steve,” you say softly, moving towards him, but he couldn’t hear you. Not over his own mind. He was too far gone.

“I can’t—fuck, I—“ His broad chest heaved as he tried to suck in air, but it seemed to do little to help. His hands shook violently, gripping at his tousled hair as he slid down to the floor, his back against the wall. “I’m gonna lose you, angel. I know it, and I can’t—I can’t do that again.”

“Steve,” you repeat, voice more forceful this time as you drop to your knees beside him. You reached out to him slowly, so as to not startle him, taking his unsteady hands in your own. “Breathe. Just…breathe with me, okay?”

He was trembling so much that it scared you, even more than he had yesterday. His breaths were coming out shallow and erratic, your heart ached to see him like this—so broken, so scared.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You kept your voice soft, soothing as you held onto him, your thumbs tracing small circles on his skin. You began to understand. “You’re okay. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

The skin around his eyes was pulled taught as he squeezed them shut, he tried to follow your lead, match your breathing with his own, using it as a guide. “Just breathe, okay?” You repeated, you held your voice steady until his ragged breaths began to slow, becoming deeper and more even.

It took a few minutes to get his trembling to ease, fingers still tracing gentle patterns, reminding him of your presence. His grip eventually loosened, but never wavered, he clung onto you like a lifeline. His head hung low as he tried to pull himself back together.

You watched his chest as you knelt beside him, it rose and fell more calmly compared to a few moments ago. His large brown eyes flickered open as they focused on you. Red and glassy, filled with fear as he looked at you. Really looked at you.

“I’m so so sorry,” he spoke in a muted tone, barely audible as he turned his attention to your intertwined hands. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just… I didn’t know what to do. I—I needed to hurt you before you hurt me.”

Your stomach was in knots at the sight of him so vulnerable. Posture hunched over as if he wanted to disappear into himself. It broke your heart to witness. You squeezed his hands gently as you leaned closer to him.

“Steve, listen to me,” you tell him. His eyes lifted to meet yours, amber and swirling with uncertainty. “I’m not going anywhere. But you have to talk to me, okay? If something is bothering you. If you’re feeling scared, you have to tell me. You can’t just take it out on me. It’s not fair.”

He shook his head and sniffed, rubbing his hand roughly against his eyes, trying to brush away the tears. “I don’t want to push you away,” he muttered, voice no longer as shakey. He felt his mind settle as the words flowed out of his mouth more comfortably.

“I just… I don’t know how to do this,” he gestured between the two of you. “I’ve never been good at… at the talking stuff.”

For the first time today, you allowed a smile to play on your lips as you brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “I kinda got that,” you tell him. “You don’t have to be perfect. I just need you to be able to come to me, talk to me. Get out of your head. I’m always here.”

You tapped his forehead twice for emphasis as he exhaled slowly. The tension in his body had finally been released as he slumped against the wall. He brought both of your hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, swallowing hard as he returned them to his lap. “Don’t deserve you, angel.”

Leaning forward and pressing your forehead against his own, closing your eyes as you speak. “You deserve someone who cares,” you tell him as you pull back, eyes shining with pure honesty which soothes his shot nerves. “And I do. So, just…trust me. Even if it's hard sometimes.”

“I do,” he said quickly. “I do. I’m sorry I didn’t, sweetheart. I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his cheek, looking at him with the tenderness he never thought he would see again. “You don’t have to apologise anymore.”

He nodded once more, your forgiveness was finally sinking into him, pushing the last bit of panic out of his system. He opened his arms, asking you silently if it was alright to hold you once more.

You shifted yourself between his legs, allowing his arms to pull you into a tight embrace, bringing you close as if you might disappear again. Slip through his fingers if he let you go.

You rested your head against his chest, tucked up tightly as his chin rested on your hair. You could feel his heart beat at a more steady pace. You placed your palm over it. It belonged to you after all.

“I love you, you know that?” He asked as he held you against him, anchoring himself to you.

“I know,” you respond, words slightly muffled by his jumper. “I love you too.”

You pull away slightly, meeting his eyes once more. The heaviness from the previous conversation had lifted, feeling relief flow through you as the warmth returned to Steve’s face. He wasn’t completely at ease, still very much shaken, but he could see a light at the end of the tunnel. The worst was behind him. And he promised it would only be up from here.

“So tell me,” you began. You knew you needed to steer the conversation in a more light-hearted direction, not just for yourself, but for the boy whose lap you were in. “Was Robin mad?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Steve groaned as his head hit the wall behind him. At least he could walk into work with a smile on his face tomorrow. Tell her that he made it right…but maybe leave out the whole hysterical crying part. “She was ready to rip my head off after I told her what happened.”

“Oh, really?” You raised an eyebrow and giggled. “Good to know she has my back.”

“Guess I’m outnumbered,” Steve allowed himself to laugh, and God did it feel good to do it with you.

“Well, that’s what happens when you don’t listen.”

“Okay, okay. Fair enough,” he winced, but managed to maintain a grin. “I think I’ll survive her wrath…maybe.”

“Maybe,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Gonna have to put in some work there then.”

“I am prepared to do whatever it takes,” he tells you with mock seriousness. “Even offer to be her wingman with Vickie.”

“Wow, generous,” you snorted. It would probably benefit him more, if you were being honest. He had been nagging her to make a move for months, her constant pining and inaction was starting to get to him. He had been giving her the same advice over and over. It was getting ridiculous. His words, not yours.

“And, hey, maybe I’ll give Munson a chance too,” he tells you, glancing down with a playful expression. “Join Hellfire, see what all the fuss is about.”

The laugh that escaped you was loud, you shook your head at him. “Steve, you would be terrible and D&D.”

“Hey, I’m good at strategy!” He protested, not allowing himself to be insulted in this manner. “I’d make a great…uh, whatever they call the fighter guy.”

“You mean a barbarian?” You say teasingly. “I could see you as more of a chotic bard. Always trying to talk yourself out of trouble.”

“Yeah? You never know, I could surprise you,” he says, leaning down to press his lips against your hairline. “For now though, I think I’ll focus on not screwing things up again.”

Your heart fluttered as you melted into him, securing your arms around his wide shoulders. “You’re on the right track, Harrington”

“Good,” he smiled at the nickname, placing his hand on your arm, the other on your back. “I don’t plan on going anywhere. And neither are you if I can help it.”

“Deal,” you say with a firm nod of your head. “No more freakouts, okay?”

He looked over your face once more, relieved that there were no more visible traces of the pain he had caused. Just his sweet girl smiling at him. Just the way he liked it.

"I'll try my best," Steve whispered, holding you close. "I promise."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington headcanon #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine

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januaryembrs · 7 months ago

Note

hot chocolate!!!

what about bau!reader who’s super affectionate with spencer (and he just takes it with a blush and sugary coffee)

example; jawline kisses that are supposed to be cheek kisses instead of hello’s and goodbye’s & reader having her arm around spencer’s waist at all times cuz she’s just so used to his body warmth!!!

(for some reason i’m imagining s9 reid & new-ish reader but u can do what u want ofc!!)

FUGITIVE AFFECTIONS | Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

description: fugitive (noun) meaning escape, runaway. (adjective) meaning fleeting, brief, passing.

Length: 1.1k

warnings: fluff fluff FLUFF.

He knew what was coming the second he heard her footsteps. The coffee machine spluttered with effort as it churned out his third cup of the day, and he was already perched with the sugar waiting for the appliance to do its thing. Spencer barely had chance to acknowledge the approaching figure when he felt arms wrap around his waist, someone attaching themselves to his back with a feather light kiss to his spine.

“Good morning,” He called over his shoulder, and you hummed, quickly squeezing the soft pooch of his stomach and releasing him.

“Morning,” You said, and he leaned up to open the cupboard door, which wasn’t a big feat for him with his heinously long limbs. Plopping a mug down on the side, he poured coffee in your cup first before he started on his own, “Reports due today?”

“Hotch wants the Minnesota and the Nevada cases wrapped up,” He said, sliding the milk and sugar over to your side of the counter and keeping his head down. Spencer felt his ears run hot, like they usually did whenever you got so close to him, which just happened to be always.

He doubted the words ‘personal space’ were ever a thing in your vocabulary. It had started with Garcia, with the two of you linking arms and braiding each other's hair after two weeks of you moving to the BAU, and he’d figured that Garcia had won you over with that natural, bubbly charm of hers. But Spencer was perceptive, and he’d quickly realised the behaviour was not strictly limited to Penelope and her chirpy attitude. You tended to walk close to everyone, like you were trying to mesh you bodies in with them and the shoulder bumps and hands brushed against one another didn’t matter. In the end, rather than push you away, Morgan had taken to wrapping an arm around your shoulder as the two of you waltzed around the office together. Even Blake was succumbing to your touchy-feely attitude as you liked to cosy up next to her on the jet, usually falling asleep with your head on her shoulder, and she thought little of it now, just continuing with her crosswords unbothered.

And then you’d set your sights on Spencer.

He supposed you hadn’t quite got the memo about his germaphobia, or perhaps the transference of bacteria between humans during simple hand holding just never occurred to you. Yet after just a month of being desk buddies with him, he nearly jumped out of his skin the day you slipped your fingers in between his when the two of you had been paired up on a case and you were heading down the witness’s driveway to interview them.

He’s been about to ask what the hell you were doing, or perhaps scramble to shove you off, and sanitise his hands with the emergency gel he kept in his bag at all times. But by the time he’d looked over at you, his cheeks a flaming strawberry colour with what he’d thought of as annoyance, you were simply smiling at him, and began swinging your joined hands back and forth, nudging your temple into his shoulder affectionately.

“You look really pretty in that purple shirt, Spencer,” You said simply, and whatever scathing remark about how eighty percent of pathogens are transferred during hand holding was robbed from his gullet and he was stunned into silence. The way you’d said his name alone made his lips part in wonder, because he’d never heard it said like that.

“T-thankyou, I like your jacket.” He cringed as soon a he said it, and the two of you looked down to your government issued FBI vest, the same one he wore, the same one Hotch wore, the same one they’d all worn for the past nine years.

You sniggered, bumping him again with your forehead like you were a cat purring up against him, marking your territory.

“You’re cute,”

You were full of sweet, loving words like that he realised, all buttercups and candy floss and honey and sweetie and my love and he felt himself expecting it now, biting his lip in worry if you were ever just the tiniest bit too busy to fluff him up with affection.

Like when you’d been called out by Blake on an emergency, the two of you scrambling to grab the SUV keys to go meet Morgan and JJ where they were moving into the building after the suspect.

The two of you had all but ran out of the precinct in the effort to catch up with the other agents, leaving Spencer, pen still in his hand as he mapped out the geographical profile, and he hadn’t realised anything was missing until he heard the door slam shut and he hadn’t felt the warmth of your hug, your hand in his hair ruffling it lovingly, not even a ‘goodbye, sweetie!’

Spencer pouted, despite the fact he’d spent the first few weeks wondering if he should be shying away from your touch because he was quickly running out of sanitizer and had yet to want you to stop. He felt like his routine had been interrupted, because that’s definitely what the source of his disappointment was, not the fact he wondered if he had done something wrong, and yet before he could think too hard about it, the door swung back open, Blake yelling something from the hallway that he could just about make out was your name, before a body crashed into his side and your lips were on his jaw, kissing him lightly through laboured breaths.

“Bye, Spence.” You murmured, kissing up his cheek a few times to apologise for the wait, and he hadn’t even had the chance to return the favour through the fish out of water gape as he watched you run back to the door, Blake looking at you incredulously.

“I just watched you run up three flights of stairs for that?” She asked, the door slowly closing behind you and giving him unfiltered snooping on your conversation. He smiled so wide his cheeks hurt, the same one that you had just kissed over and over again like it was a normal thing for you two, and he wondered if he could coordinate you rushing out of the office every time if it meant he’d have that again.

“It’s Spencer, it was important,” You insisted, and he squoze his hands so tightly his nails dug into his palm, because it was too late to tell you just how much you’d made him feel in such a tiny gesture, and the electricity from your kisses had to come out somewhere. If not, Spencer worried he might explode.

His hand sanitizer sat empty in his pocket, the same way it had been for months, and Spencer couldn’t care less.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler x reader

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aeralux · 19 days ago

Text

"Freak On a Leash" - Aemond Targaryen

Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: So what if you're fucking the weird dude? He has good dick game. But how were you supposed to know he gets attached easily?

Warnings: SMUT (18+); (pretty rough) car sex; oral (f!receiving); name calling (slut, whore etc); dark!Aemond near the end; hair pulling; choking; ass slapping; mentions of violence and blood

Words: 5.5k

Notes: No description of the reader. This was just going to be porn without a plot... but ofc I had to add some plot smh. This isn't dark dark, but it does contain some of the elements of it so... do not read it if you are not comfortable with that

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

He was weird, unsettling, and genuinely offputting. That's why your friends were baffled to know that you were fucking him multiple times a week, in the backseat of his car, no less. "He has good dick," you tried to tell them, saying it was worth it. But your words fell on deaf ears as none of them understood. Why him?

With long hair dyed black with a cheap store colour and a run-down 2005 Volvo S40, he didn't seem the kind of guy who could fuck a girl until her throat was raw. But you knew the truth. That's why you kept coming back, time after time.

So it was no surprise that, once again, you found yourself in his lap. In the backseat of his car, kissing and moaning, his hard cock pressing into your aching core.

"Blood?" You ask as you taste copper on your tongue when kissing his jaw.

"Don't act like you don't find that hot," he grunted, a smug expression on his face. It's probably because whoever he fought, lost.

You smiled playfully, your lips brushing against his once more, caught in a moment where admitting he was right felt like submitting. The warmth between you grew, leaving just the two of you.

He tangled his fingers in your hair for a second before shifting his attention downward, fumbling with the delicate fabric of your flimsy top. The skin-tight shirt clung to your curves, resisting his attempts as if it had a will of its own. Frustration flickered across his face, but it was quickly replaced by determination as he continued to work his way around the stubborn material.

"Just rip it open for fuck's sake," you groan as he fumbles with your skin-tight white top. Your hips instinctively roll on top of his, ruining your cute white cotton panties with your juices.

Aemond groans deeply at your words. With a quick, decisive motion, he rips the fabric open, the sound of the tear deafening. Your black lacy bra is revealed, the delicate lace a stark contrast to his rough, calloused hands as they cup your breasts.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he growls, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the thin lace. "Gonna fucking wreck you."

He leans in, his hot mouth latching onto one nipple through the bra as his other hand slides down to rub your clit through your soaked panties. He groans against your skin at the wetness he finds there, the sound vibrating through you.

Oh gods, you are so fucking wet for him. You can feel your arousal soaking through the thin cotton, staining it with your desperation. You grind harder against the rigid bulge straining against his jeans, needing more friction, and more contact.

"So fucking wet for me already," he murmurs, his fingers pushing the fabric aside to delve between your folds. "Gonna make you come so hard."

You roll your hips harder against Aemond's bulge, your clit throbbing with every grind. Your skirt hangs loosely around your waist, resembling more of a belt.

"Fuck, these songs suck ass," you grumbled, reaching for Aemond's phone and scrolling through his playlists until you find something more to your liking. The change in music elicits a growl from Aemond, but you just smirk and lean in close, your lips brushing his jaw. The bass line of Rob Zombie's "Dragula" thumps through the car, a perfect complement to the nasty thoughts running through your mind.

"Okay, now you can fuck me," you giggle, your teeth grazing his skin before you soothe the sting with your tongue. You can taste the salt of his sweat, the copper tang of blood - a reminder of the fight he must have been in. Your curiosity gets the better of you.

"Who the fuck did you fight this time?" You ask, your voice low and husky with desire. But even as you speak, your focus is on the delicious friction between your legs, the way Aemond's hard length rubs against your aching core with every roll of your hips.

"Fucking some new guy, thought he could take me," Aemond growls, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he grinds up against you. "Taught him a lesson real quick."

He leans in, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as he speaks. "He won't be coming back anytime soon. Not after the way I shattered his ribs." His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you down harder onto his cock.

"Now, quit talking and start begging for it," he commands, his voice a low rumble in your ear. He places a few light smacks on your cheek, making you smile at the lewd actions.

You shake your head, a wide smile spreading across your face as your eyes lose focus. The depravity of the situation, the dingy car, the smell of sweat and sex, it all makes you even wetter. You can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs.

"You know I don't beg," you whisper, your lips brushing against his earlobe as you suck on it gently. Your teeth graze the sensitive skin, making him groan.

Aemond's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. He sounds almost angry as he growls, "You'd better fucking start, or I'll stop right here."

"Fuck," you whimper as his bulge nudges against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your brows furrow, your eyes squeezed shut as you grind down harder, seeking more of that delicious friction.

To emphasize his point, he stills his hips, denying you the friction you crave. His other hand moves from your breast to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

"Please, Aemond," you moan, your voice breaking with need. "Fuck me. Use me. Make me forget everything but your cock inside me."

Aemond's eyes darken with lust at your words, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "That's more like it," he purrs, his grip on your throat relaxing just slightly. He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing kiss.

"Gonna fucking ruin you," he promises, his free hand moving down to grip your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He pulls you down hard, grinding his clothed cock against your aching cunt.

"Gonna make you scream for me," he growls, his other hand moving from your throat to tangle in your hair. He yanks your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth. He latches on, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, his teeth grazing your skin.

His hips are moving now, grinding up against you in a filthy rhythm. The rough denim of his jeans rubs against your sensitive clit. You can feel the heat of him through the fabric, the hard length of his cock straining against his zipper.

You moan sluttily, desperate, shameless noises filling his car. You're too far gone to care about your pride. Impatiently, you tug the cups of your bra down, exposing your hardened nipples to the cool air. They're almost painfully sensitive, aching to be sucked.

"Suck," you command, your voice low and demanding. You arch your back, offering your breasts to him like a sacrificial lamb.

Aemond's eyes darken at your demand, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Oh, so you think you're in charge here, do you?" he growls, his hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back.

You gasp at the sharp pain, your eyes watering. "I think you need to be put in your place, slut," he sneers, his other hand roughly palming your breast.

He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over your exposed nipple. "Beg for it," he commands, his voice low and dangerous.

You swallow hard, your pride fading due to your desperate need. "Please," you whimper, your voice small and needy. "Suck my tits, I need it so bad."

Aemond chuckles darkly, his teeth grazing your nipple. "That's more like it," he growls before his mouth envelops the sensitive bud.

You cry out, your back arching as he suckles hard, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak. The pleasure is intense, bordering on pain, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Fuck, that feels so good," you moan, your hand moving to the back of his head, trying to push him closer. But he pulls away, shaking his head.

"Hands off," he commands, his eyes flashing with anger. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

You whimper, your hand falling away. "Sorry," you whisper, your cheeks flushing with shame.

Aemond just smirks, his hand moving to your other breast, roughly squeezing the soft flesh. "Good girl," he purrs, before diving back in, his mouth hot and wet on your aching nipple.

You moan, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself in the sensation.

"Fuck, you taste good," he growls against your skin, his hand moving to pinch and roll your other nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations make you cry out, your back arching as you press yourself further into his touch.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, blowing cool air over the damp flesh. You whimper at the loss, your body craving more of his touch. "That's better," he says, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "You know your place."

Aemond's hand moves from your hair to your throat again, squeezing just enough to make you gasp for air. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you senseless?"

Your heart races, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as Aemond's hand tightens around your throat. The lack of oxygen only adds to the haze of lust clouding your mind. You nod frantically, your eyes wide and pleading.

"Yes, yes, I'll be good," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond's lips curve into a wicked grin against your skin, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Fuck, you're so desperate for it, aren't you?" he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your hip, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

He grinds up against you, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against your aching clit. The friction is delicious, but not nearly enough. You need more. You need him inside you, stretching you, filling you.

"Yes, fuck yes, I'm desperate for it," you pant, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you inside me, Aemond. I love it when you use me."

Aemond chuckles darkly, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "Fuck, you're such a dirty little slut," he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your hair instead. He yanks your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth.

"Gonna fucking ruin you," he promises, his teeth grazing your skin. "Gonna make you scream for me."

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groans. He yanks your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark with lust, filled with the depravity to come.

"Gonna fuck you so hard, you'll be feeling it for days," he promises, his hand moving from your hair to grip your throat again. He squeezes, cutting off your air supply just for a moment before releasing.

You gasp, your lungs burning for oxygen. But even then you still smile at him, biting your lip.

Aemond's eyes darken at the sight, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Fuck, you're perfect," he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your ass hard enough to bruise. "A sight for sore eyes," he smirks, looking into your glossy eyes.

"Shit, I need to eat you out first," he groans, his jeans pressing down painfully on his throbbing cock.

He slides off the seat, kneeling between your legs as he slides your panties to the side impatiently. The scent of your arousal is thick in the air, making his cock throb with need. The cool air hits your aching cunt, making you shiver.

"Fuck, you smell incredible," he growls, his hot breath ghosting over your slick folds. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lap at your clit, making you cry out.

He groans at the taste of you, his tongue delving deeper, licking through your folds and fucking into your entrance. He eats you out like a man starved, his tongue moving in and out, his lips sucking on your clit.

His fingers delving between your folds. He brings them up to your lips, pressing them against your mouth. "Taste how fucking desperate you are for me."

You open your mouth obediently, sucking his fingers into your mouth. The taste of your arousal explodes on your tongue, musky and sweet. You moan around his fingers, your tongue licking and sucking, cleaning them of your juices.

Aemond's eyes darken with lust as he watches you suck his fingers clean, your tongue swirling around the digits. He growls low in his throat, his free hand moving to grip your breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly.

"Fuck, you're so hot like this," he growls, his fingers popping out of your mouth.

He gets back up, leaving you unsatisfied and annoyed.

He grabs your hair, forcing your head back and making you look up at him. His eyes are dark with lust, his jaw clenched as he battles for control.

"Strip," he commands, his voice low and dangerous. "I want you fucking naked, now."

You scramble to obey, yanking your bra off, your breasts bouncing free, nipples hard and aching for his touch. Your miniskirt and panties are next, puddled on the floor of the car, leaving you bare and exposed.

"Shit, you look so good," Aemond growls, his eyes raking over your naked form. "I almost don't even want to ruin you... almost"

He flips you on your hands and knees, pushing your head down, forcing your ass in the air, holes completely exposed to him. He yanks you forward, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. "Brace yourself, slut," he growls, grinding his clothed cock against your bare pussy. "Gonna fucking wreck you."

You crane your neck to look back at Aemond, a scoff leaving your lips. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," you mock, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

His eyes darken at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Oh, I'll take more than just a picture, baby," he promises, his hand coming down on your ass in a sharp smack.

You gasp at the sting, your pussy clenching in anticipation. "Promises, promises," you taunt, wiggling your ass invitingly. "You talk a big game, but I bet you can't even get it half hard."

Aemond's grip on your hips tightens, his nails digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks. "Fuck, you're so goddamn cocky," he snarls. "Gonna shut that smart mouth of yours."

You moan at the contact, your head falling forward as you push your ass back against him. "Big talk, dickhead," you pant, your voice breathy with need. "Let's see what you've got."

Aemond responds to your taunts with a sharp smack to your ass, the sound echoing in the confined space of the car. "Fuck, you're asking for it," he growls, his hand coming down again, harder this time.

You gasp, your ass jiggling from the impact. "Shit, you're making a mess of me," you whine, wiggling your hips. Your pussy is throbbing, aching to be filled.

"That's the idea, slut," Aemond grunts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass cheeks. He spreads them apart, exposing your tight holes to his hungry gaze. "Gonna fucking wreck this tight little ass."

His hands move to his zipper, slowly dragging it down. The sound of the metal seems obscenely loud in the confined space of the car.

He pushes his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock, the thick shaft springing up, hard and ready. The head is already slick with precum, the veins along the length pulsing with his heartbeat.

He spits in his palm, rubbing his saliva over his cock, giving it some lubrication. Then he's pressing the tip against your drooling hole, the rough denim of his jeans scraping against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he groans, pushing forward, the head of his cock breaching your hole. You cry out, the stretch intense, bordering on pain.

"Relax, slut," he commands, his hand coming down on your ass again. "Take that fucking cock like a good whore."

He starts to move, his hips rocking back and forth, inch by inch of his thick shaft sinking into your tight heat. Your walls clench around him, trying to adjust to the intrusion, but he doesn't give you time.

He starts fucking you in earnest, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper with each thrust. The car rocks with the force of his movements, the seat creaking beneath you.

"Fuck, you take it so well," he pants, his hand moving from your ass to grip your hip, holding you in place as he fucks into you. "Gonna fucking ruin this tight ass."

You moan, your hands gripping the seat, nails digging into the cracked leather. The pain in your ass mixes with the pleasure, making your head spin.

"Harder," you beg, pushing your hips back to meet his, desperate for more. "Fuck me harder, shit."

Your juices drip down your thighs, pooling on the leather seat below as Aemond pounds into you.

Your hands grip the seat, nails digging into the cracked leather as you brace yourself for the onslaught. Aemond's hands are everywhere - gripping your hips, squeezing your ass, tugging at your hair. He uses you like a rag doll, fucking you with an animalistic need.

Aemond grunts, his grip on your hips tightening as he complies with your demand. "Fuck, you want it hard, slut?" he growls, his voice strained with effort. "Gonna fucking give it to you."

He pulls nearly all the way out, leaving just the tip inside your stretched hole. Then he slams back in, his hips connecting with your ass with a sharp smack. He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you recklessly, the car swaying with his thrusts.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight," he pants, sweat dripping down his face, his messy black hair sticking to his skin.

You can only moan, your mouth hanging open as you gasp for air. Your breasts bounce with each powerful thrust, your nipples hard and aching for attention.

Aemond's hand moves from your hip to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly. He pinches your nipple between his fingers, twisting and tugging, sending sparks of pain through your body.

"Fuck, your tits are perfect," he groans, his hand moving to your other breast, giving it the same treatment.

You whimper, your pussy clenching around his pistoning cock. The combination of pain and pleasure is overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You reach down, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. The added stimulation makes you see stars, your back arching as you moan.

"Fuck, you're such a dirty girl," Aemond pants. "Getting off on being used like a fucking toy."

"Shit, I'm close," you pant, your nails digging into the leather seat and your fingers moving on your clit. "Don't stop, fuck, don't stop," you moan, your hips bucking back against him, seeking more friction. His fingers rub your clit in tight circles, the pressure building with each stroke.

He pulls your hair, forcing your back to arch, your ass pushing back against him. The new angle allows him to go even deeper, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars.

"That's it, take it all you little slut," he pants, his hand moving from your tit to your clit, replacing your hand, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," you whimper, your body tensing. "Please, Aemond, please."

"Do it," he commands, his fingers moving faster on your clit. "Come for me like the good little whore you are."

With a cry, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clenches around his cock, your walls rippling along his shaft.

Aemond groans, his hips stuttering as your orgasm milks his cock. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Where do you want me to spill?"

Your body convulses as the intense orgasm rips through you, your vision blurring and stars bursting behind your eyelids. "On my ass, fuck!" You cry out, the words torn from your throat. "Cum all over my ass!"

You arch your back, pushing your hips against Aemond's, desperate for more. Your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him.

You can feel his grip on your hips tighten, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his release. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the car, mixed with your heavy breathing and moans of pleasure.

Aemond's cock throbs inside you, his thrusts becoming more erratic as your pussy milks him. He growls low in his throat, his hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back.

"Fuck, gonna paint your ass white," he pants, his hips slamming against your ass with bruising force.

He pulls out abruptly, his cock slipping from your clenching hole with a wet sound. You whimper at the loss, your pussy aching to be filled again.

Aemond's hand comes down on your ass in a sharp smack, the sting making you gasp. "Present yourself," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Wanna see you take my load like a good little whore."

You arch your back even more, spreading your thighs as far as you can in the limited space. Your spasming holes are on full display for his hungry gaze.

Aemond kneels behind you, his cock in his hand, stroking it with quick, rough motions. "Fuck, you're such a good little girl," he pants, his eyes dark with lust as they roam over your body. "Too bad you're such a filthy slut."

He starts to come, his cock jerking in his hand as thick ropes of cum splatter across your ass and pussy. You moan, your fingers dipping between your folds to gather some of his cum, bringing it to your mouth.

"Fuck, look at you," Aemond groans, his hand still working his shaft, milking out every last drop. "Eating my cum like the dirty whore you are."

He collapses next to you on the seat, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He reaches out, his fingers tangling in your hair, tugging your head back to look at him.

"You're fucking perfect," he growls, his eyes intense as they bore into yours. "Mine."

"Mhm," you hum, collapsing onto Aemond's chest, your body spent and sated. The car reeks of sex and sweat, your combined releases staining the seats. It's filthy and sinful, turning you on.

Aemond's arms wrap around you, pulling you close as he strokes your hair. You nuzzle into his neck, breathing in his scent, a mix of cologne and sex.

"That was intense," you murmur, your voice low and breathy. "You really know how to fuck a girl stupid."

Aemond chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath you. "Fucking right I do," he boasts, his fingers tangling in your hair. "You're a damn good lay, too. Always so fucking eager for my cock."

He tugs on your hair, forcing your head back to look at him. His eyes are dark, filled with lust and possessiveness. "You're mine," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "This tight little body belongs to me."

"Such a good girl," he praises, his other hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your swollen lips. "Gonna keep you."

You smile against his fingers, a wicked gleam in your eyes. "Keep me for what?" you tease. "You're not my man. I'm not your's to keep," you whisper, feeling an ache in your heart for some reason.

Aemond's eyes flash with a dangerous light, his grip on your chin tightening as he yanks your face closer to his.

His grip on your chin tightened. "The fuck I'm not," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "I've had you more times than I can count. I know every inch of this body, every fucking sound you make when I'm buried inside you."

He shifts, his face mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your lips. "You're mine, whether you admit it or not."

His other hand slides down your body, fingers dipping between your thighs to gather the cum leaking from your abused hole. He brings it to your lips, smearing it across them.

"Look at you, so fucking dirty, so desperate for my cum. You can pretend all you want, but deep down, you know you belong to me."

He crashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you with a ferocity that steals your breath.

When he pulls back, you're panting, your lips swollen and tingling. "You're mine," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. "And I'm never letting you go."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and something else, something you're not quite ready to name.You press your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering closed as you try to steady your breathing.

"I don't belong to anyone," you whisper, but there's no conviction in your voice. "We're just fucking, Aemond. Don't make it more than it is."

Aemond's eyes darken, a flash of anger crossing his face before it's quickly replaced with a predatory smirk. "Just fucking?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. "Is that what you think this is?"

He sits up, pulling you with him so you're straddling his lap. His hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he holds you in place.

"We've been doing this for months, baby," he reminds you, his voice rough. "You think I don't know the difference between a quick fuck and what we have?"

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I know every inch of this body, every fucking sound you make, every way you tremble and writhe when I'm inside you."

"Stop fighting it," he growls, his eyes boring into yours. "You might tell your friends that this means nothing to you, that you think I'm some creepy guy you fuck. Yet you still keep coming back.."

Your breath catches in your throat, his words sending a shiver down your spine. How does he know? You've never told him those things. You shake your head, a strand of hair falling across your face. "No, I've never said that," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I swear."

You try to pull away, but his grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place. His eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, searching for any sign of deceit. "I wouldn't say those things about you," you insist. "I don't think you're weird."

Aemond's eyes narrow, his grip on your hips tightening until it almost hurts. "Don't lie to me," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "I know you talk shit about me to your friends. I know you think I'm some kind of freak."

He leans in, his breath hot against your cheek. "But you keep coming back, don't you? You keep spreading your legs for me, begging me to fuck you like the desperate little slut you are."

His hand moves from your hip to your throat, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. "You can't resist me, can you? No matter how much you try to pretend, your body knows who it belongs to."

He squeezes your throat, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your heart race. "I've heard you, baby," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "I've heard you call me a freak, a deviant. But you still come back, letting me use your tight little body for my pleasure."

Your cheeks flush with shame and embarrassment as Aemond's words sink in. You try to pull away from his grip, your naked bodies still intertwined, but his hold is too strong. "Yes, fine. I have said those things about you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

You search his eyes, trying to find the right words. "Aemond, you fight people. You're dangerous." You say it with a seriousness that misrepresents the thrill that runs through you at the very thought. It's the danger that makes him so appealing.

You sigh, your fingers caressing his face, tracing the strong lines of his jaw. "Must you have such an effect on me?" You mutter, before leaning in to kiss him.

Aemond's lips meet yours in a savage kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth with a fierce intensity. His grip on your throat tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he holds you in place.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing heavily, your lips swollen and stinging from the force of his kiss.

"You fuckin' love it," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "You love the danger, the thrill of being with a man who can break you."

"Admit it," he presses, his voice low and dangerous. "You get off on the fact that I could snap anyone's fucking neck with one hand."

Aemond's grip on your throat loosens, his thumb stroking your pulse point in a surprisingly tender gesture.

"Would you ever hurt me?" You whisper, your breath hot on his lips, your faces mere inches apart. A flicker of fear in your eyes, but it's quickly overshadowed by the desire burning within you. You search his gaze, looking for any sign of malice, any hint of danger. But all you see is raw, primal hunger.

Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw. He's so close. It's intoxicating and terrifying at once. You have seen him fight, seen the way he's hurt others with minimal effort. He could break you, shatter you into a million pieces if he wanted to.

Aemond's eyes soften for a moment, a rare vulnerability flickering in their depths. "You think I'd hurt you?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "Baby, I'd die before I let anyone lay a finger on you."

He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. "You're mine," he growls, his voice fierce with possessiveness. "And I protect what's mine."

His hand slides from your throat to your cheek, cupping your face gently. "I may be aggressive, but I'm not a pig," he murmurs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. "I'd never hurt you, not like that."

"But make no mistake," he whispers, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll hurt anyone who tries to take you from me."

You bite his thumb lightly as he speaks, his possessive demeanour sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Anyone who would hurt me?" You purr, leaning into his touch like a small lamb. His words ignite a fire deep within you, a primal desire to be owned, claimed, and protected.

You know you shouldn't give in to this, but you can't help yourself. The way he looks at you like you are the only woman in the world, it's intoxicating.

Aemond growls low in his throat, his eyes darkening with lust at the feel of your teeth on his skin. "That's right, baby," he purrs, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair. "You're mine, and I'll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you away from me."

Your breath hitches in your throat at Aemond's words, his dangerous claims sending a shiver down your spine. You meet his gaze, your eyes are wide and full of devotion, a vulnerability you rarely show to anyone.

He tugs you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss. "I'll protect you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I'll cherish you. I'll fucking worship you."

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. "I'm yours," you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. "Body and soul."

Aemond's eyes flash with fierce triumph at your words, a primal look of satisfaction spreading across his face. "That's right, you're fucking mine," he growls, tugging you closer and crushing his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

"Get dressed, pretty girl. I'm taking you to my place," he demands, leaving no room for argument.

Aemond's eyes blaze with desire as he watches you scramble to put on your clothes, your naked body still slick with his cum. He licks his lips, his cock already hardening again at the sight of you.

He helps you to the passenger seat, smirking. "Hope you don't mind a messy ride."

916 notes · View notes

serxinns · 2 months ago

Note

Ok sorry if I'm taking up some time but something related to a picture I saw has literally been on my mind and I need some sorta short fanfic about it 😭

So basically, Yandere Fantasy AU Bakusquad where they are all dragons (Except Bakugou being a Barbarian) and a traveler reader who is incredibly hurt so is under the care of them all.

I mainly want this because I recently broke my wrist (which is now healed up) and idk 😭🙏

The Lost Traveler

Yandere! fantasy Bakusquad x gn! reader

A/n: I kinda went off on this onw hehe but I hope it was worth the wait! I hope you enjoy!

Tw!⚠️: injuries, reader getting hurt, weapons, drowning, possessive and obsessive behavior, stripping off clothes (in a non sexual way ofc) nudity (if you count reader being in their undergarments, yandere behavior, and more don't read if you can't handle it

"After them!" You heard a man yell out to his group as they chased you, but you didn't look back you didn't want to look back your main priority was safety you looked around the woods to see if there was any hiding spot but to no avail, the men kept shooting their arrows towards you as you barely dodged them. You held on to your bag tightly you didn't know how you had come to this conclusion you just went into town trying to grab some things and these men tried to rob your mother's spellbook so you kicked one of them in the groin he released you from his grasp and you continued to run

"I got this" one of the men grabbed their bow and arrow, your eyes widened in horror as he aimed for your leg and you were getting ready to dodge untill a sharp pain hit you in your upper leg you screamed in agony and dropped to the floor clutching your foot the bandits all surrounded you chucking you grabbed the book tightly not wanting those monsters getting it

"Now, now, brat, why don't you be smart and give us the book, and we'll let you go"gt.he man had a devious grin on his facfaceu spat at him, "fuck you, you'll have to kill me 1st!" The bandits snicker and laughed "Very well then.." one of the men got a weapon and held itches towards your neck your eyes widen trying to squirm off from his grasp but he pinned you against the tree hard with a final attempt you kicked him in the groin with ur shoe his grasp became loose as he howled in pain now clutching his area kneeling, "you little shit..." the crew all held their swords at you you the began crawling backward with the book praying they'll be someone to protect you

You then began to slip on something; you quickly looked behind you to see a waterfall right behind you, you gasped, wanting to crawl back, but the bandits were in front. You were at a dead end "Nowhere, the run, little shit, just give us the book!" He sneered, you had to act fast for you and the book, you look at the waterfall again hesitant you began crawling closer and closer waterfall until you felt the cliff and the loud crashing water beneath you, one of the bandits snicker th t up to what you were about to do "don't do anything stupid ya hear just give us the damn book!" He shouted you looked at him with one last glare and let your whole body go holding the book tight while you fall

You closed your eyes ready for the impact and pain, you landed in the roaring water you desperately tried gasping for air using your good arm to swim back up for air but it'd currents were too strong you tried grabbing some sort of branch or rock but kept crashing into them hard your body began to feel tired and ur eyes droopy from all the pain and energy "is this how I die.." you thought as you slowly close your eyes surrendering to the wrath of the water as they took you

...

"Aha! Gotcha!" The dragon yelled as she caught a fish with her claws she examined the fish making sure it was big enough for her friends and place it in the bucket her stomach growled in hunger she looked down and then looked at the fish, "..one fish wouldn't hurt" mina looked both ways and all around when the coast was clear she grabbed a small fish and was about toneat until a voice called her "Pink scales you better not be eating our dinner like shitty scales!" The Man said angrily, "Ughh bakugo, it was just gonna be one!" Mina whined as she reluctantly dropped the fish

"One less of our dinner!" He scolded, taking the bucket and carrying it with him. "Plus, it looked like you already had some!" He looked at her with a hard glare as she smiled sheepishly the barbarian was about to yell at her until he spotted something floating in the water he shoved the dragon away to view it closer he realized that it was a human being floating around in the river katsuki quickly went in the river not caring about hid clothes getting dragging the human out of the water "it's that a human?! Are they breathing?" She shrieked looking worriedly and concerned

Katsuki then felt the human skin it was cold..katsuki then led his head toward its chest the heart was still beating but it was barely breathing.."Mina take the human to our cottage.." he ordered Mina nodded and quickly placed you on her back and transformed into her dragon form katsuki then hopped on her back and signaled her to fly, she then carefully launched into the air making sure nobody falls then soared through the sky

As they were soaring, Katsuki took the time to examine you; it seemed like you were not from here but maybe from another region judging by your clothes, and he didn't mention it, but there was a book in the human's hands. He observed it closely. It seemed like it was from a powerful being..but he didn't know where it was from, until then he may have to keep it for a while just in case for safety

Mina roared making Katsuki snap out of his thoughts when he looked up he realized that they were home he grabbed you and jumped off Mina while steam came out of her turning her back into her human form they carried the human to the house and placing them on the couch "Mina take off through clothes and check for bruises" Mina nodded she carefully took off your closes leaving you with only your undergarments on she blushed a but reminded herself to focus, the poor human was covered in red and purple bruises and had a broken wrist Mina gaze soften feeling pity for then poor human

"The human has a bunch of bruises and a broken wrist" Bakugo scoffed "that probably gonna take half of my healing power so I'm only gonna heal them on certain areas and patch up the others letting them heal themselves" bakugo then let Mina carry the unconscious human to give them a warm bath, bathing off the dirt and gunk in their hair and gently handling them with the best of her abilities the most she saw the bruises the more angrier she seems how dare someone could do this to a precious little thing when she was done she quickly wrapped them up in a towel and carry them in the bedroom where there were already a set of warm clothes for them to wear..

....

You were panicking all you could see was black you couldn't move your body it was like you were wrapped in something, it was suffocating, you tried to scream but you couldn't hear your own voice nor you couldn't hear anything just emptyness and eerie silence, you wanted to get out of here you wanted to see if you have that spellbook you wanted to survive, are you even alive anymore?! You were breathing rapidly wondering what did you do you be in this hell

Then a soft humming rang in your ear it sounded...familiar like something your mother would do to comfort you when you were feeling ill or had a very bad day, the humming made you calm..peaceful even, your panicking began to die down as well as your breathing you squirm around trying to break free from whoever or whatever is trapping you but to no avail, then saw some light in your vision it became bigger and lighter...

You slowly opened your eyes, all you could see was a blurry red figure hovering over you humming the same tune you heard back there you blinked a couple of times to get your vision more clear, and there standing above you was a boy with red scales forming on his shoulders and large pointy like horns with red eyes staring the back at you, with a yelped you tried squirming away but her strong hands were keeping you still "Please don't struggle your weak at the moment" he said petting your hair softly trying to calm you down

"Where am i.." the red hair chuckled as if that was a silly question to ask "your home can't you tell?" He answered softly as he continued to hum confused you were about to ask what did he mean by that untill another voice could be heard "did the human wake up yet" there revealed a another dragon with blonde hair and a black lighting strike on he turned his attention towards you and his eyes brighten "they're so small!" He has as he poked your cheeks curiously wanting to feel what a human skin felt like "they're also soft as well!" He giggled happily the red haired dragon quickly swat his friends hand away as the dragon whined

"They're still healing Kaminari be gentle!" Kiri scolded him The yellow dragon softly glared at him jealous from the red dragon hogging you "would you stop fighting infront them? the poor thing is barely gaining conscious" there appeared a dragon with black hair scolding at the 2 dragons "now come on the foods almost ready" he said as he gaze at you with a soft smile the headed back to the kitchen ok now you were confused who were these people? Why are they're saying this is your new home? Are you going crazy or what

Your thoughts were then interrupted again with Kirishima picking you up and carrying you to the kitchen and plop you down to your chair you awkwardly thanked him as he happily sat down at his spot, that's when smell of the food hit your nostrils it smelled so good you even drooled a bit which you quickly wiped off with your arm embrassed hoping nobody noticed that "heh someone's hungry" the dragon away you assumed to be Sero said smirking at you as your face lit up in embrassament you looked away

"Well I haven't eaten in a few days of course I'm gonna be hungry" you protested as the black dragon chuckled "whatever you say sweets" he shrugged laying against the chair patiently waiting for the meal "dinners ready!" A loud booming voice was heard a blonde male with orange eye "Guess the little shit is awake" he grumbled "Katsuki language! Don't call the human that!" Kirishima scolded katsuki scoffed

"Don't fucking tell me what to do shitty hair you ain't the boss of me!" He said yelled the two started bickering back and forth while Kirishima wrapped his Strong arm around you protectively you tried pushing it off but it seems like he was too busy to noticed or he didn't care "boys stop arguing when our human is awake!" "Yea I bet they're starving right about now!" A purple dark then came in along with a bubbly pink dragon skipping in the kitchen the 2 boys shut themselves up and they then fix yourself and themselves a meal

it was cooked fish with a side of veggies the aroma was addictive making you go wild, fish wasn't always your favorite meal but those last few days of living off of eating berries and small animals this was a actual proper meal for you you devoured the food in seconds not noticing how the others were cooing and just adoring how cute you were, after the meal you were about to head yourself out grabbing your spellbook and thanking the kind people for the care untill a hand grabbed you by the shoulder

"And where the fuck are you going?" Bakugo said with a stern tone "Uh I'm going out I need to get back home" "in this condition? Your still hurt pumpkin no way we're gonna let you go out exposing yourself to the dangers" you didn't noticed jirou infront of the door now everyone else gathered around you looking weirdly at you...

"Why don't you stay for a few nights atleast untill your injuries healed!" Kirishima suggested you thought about it for a moment the trip back home would take rather long considering that you barely even know your way back they then carried you off to their bed all cuddling next to you

You were their human now you were a gift for them and them only those monsters are gonna pay for what they done to their little darling~

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attyrocious · 7 months ago

Text

I drew for @hamstercheese7's piece in the @opmetgalazine and now im gonna ramble

ham wanted each Rev army member to have high fashion artsy protest outfits inspired by different issues surrounding the OP world. My job was to figure it out while keeping the character silhouettes of each to keep them instantly recognizable despite the censorship portrayed in the article. and bc i wanted to keep the censorship i naturally couldnt show the actual fits so anyway: morley's was inspired by leather bdsm fetish gear x actual prison gear with all the cuffs and chains, pointiness and leather. "Prison themes could be a little inspired by both genderqueer fashion and the black panthers" as ham said except i took that literally. i mean impel down does have a gay club in its walls

betty's is inspired by Hunger Pains and of course the iconic Lady Gaga meat dress. meant to satirize the unfair distribution of food resources in favor of the wealthy who just uses it as a fashion statement yada yada im not a worder. the deliberate choice of lack of color for this spread robbed this one the most but blame the government. favorite detail is the rib cage hook closure pattern

iva's was the last i did and on hindsight the easiest. ham mentioned wanting a fishmen rights statement piece and ofc iva's entire fishnet getup was an easy translation. favorite detail i had to bend over backward to show is the harpoon heel

other ideas for characters i couldnt fit: - Dragon in channel-esque thom browne design for over militarization - karasu 'plight of the poor' statement piece i was imagining smth like Cruella (2021) garbage truck dress - sabo/koala in caricatured french noble fits pre-revolution

#one piece #emporio ivankov #belo betty #op morley #revolutionary army #i was supposed to submit smth today dont tell the mods

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romaevelizz · 11 days ago

Text

Far to Familliar

Severus Snape x Fem!Professor!reader

summary: New year means having to teach sixth years how to brew an Amortentia potion. Personally Severus most disliked potion having to endure the same smell, but this year he smells something different. A familiar smell but different.

warnings: cursing, small age gap(bout 5-6 years), hufflepuff!reader, Maverick is used as a last name(kinda self indulged ofc),

As the end of the first trimester approached, the atmosphere in Hogwarts grew charged with anticipation—and trepidation. For Severus, this marked the dreaded time of year when he had to oversee the brewing of the Amortentia potion. Known for its complexity and emotional fallout, this potion stirred up feelings and reopened wounds he preferred to keep buried. It was a notorious unit for both students and him, as it often led to the revelation of hidden affections and, inevitably, heartbreak.

Severus found himself seated at the long table in the Great Hall, his dark cloak enveloping him like a protective shroud. He mentally prepared himself for the chaotic lessons ahead, bracing for the inevitable array of disastrous attempts at potion-making by the teenagers under his instruction. He could still vividly recall the laughter, tears, and arguments that erupted whenever someone inadvertently exposed their deepest feelings for another through the potion's enchanting aroma.

What troubled him most was the haunting scent of Amortentia itself—an evocative mixture that, over the years, had become inseparable from his own memories of what he could only make out as love. He loathed the bitter reminder of his unrelenting feelings for a woman who had long since departed from his life. The whiff of that potion always transported him back to a time filled with both warmth and sorrow, forcing him to confront the guilt that lingered after her death.

Over time, he had reconciled himself to the inevitable encounters with that familiar trifecta of scents—honey, apple spice, and ginger. Each element was a reminder of both joy and grief, binding him to memories he wished he could forget but could never escape. As he sat there, Severus silently cursed the potion, aware that it would once again peel back the layers of his guarded heart.

The sound of students talking around them echoed through his ears as he rubbed his temples irritably, “Everything alright Professor?” a soft voice asked. Looking up Snape's eyes meet the young Earthology professor's eyes, a concerned look in her eye her brows frowned. He watched her for a moment as she sat down to the right of him, moving her teal dress robs as she did so, once settled she pushed her curls out of her face turning towards him.

“Everything is just fine…” he drawled.

She hummed a small smile had pulled her glossed lips up, “You have to brew the Amortentia, a personal favorite I presume.” she teased.

He scoffed lightly, not in a rude way but humored. “You could say..”

“Well, I hope it goes well. Let me know if you need anything.” she offered.

He expressed his gratitude to her before they both returned to their meals. Severus found himself developing a genuine fondness for the new teacher. Though she had been at Hogwarts for some time, her youthful spirit set her apart among the faculty. The head of Hufflepuff, she was cherished by both her students and peers for her kindness and selflessness. Her capacity for empathy was something he admired deeply.

Severus realized he enjoyed her company more than he often admitted, and he hoped she felt the same. She had a way of gravitating toward him, and it was clear to her that they had formed a friendship. At first, Severus tried to distance himself, convinced that it was best for her. He remembered that day when Dumbledore had asked him to accompany her into the Forbidden Forest to gather a herb she needed for her class. It was during that outing that she had bravely confronted him, wondering if he held a dislike for her since he had been keeping his distance. Those few exchanged words had opened a door to understanding.

In truth, his avoidance had stemmed from a worry that he made her uncomfortable. But after that conversation, everything changed. They began to talk more freely, and soon, he found himself seeking her out for supplies and support, realizing how much her presence brightened his days.

There were moments when they would sit side by side, grading assignments together, and her presence brought a sense of comfort that was hard to describe. Conversations flowed effortlessly, often marked by shared knowing glances that spoke volumes, and a dry, sarcastic humor that only they understood. He cherished how she had a knack for calling him out when he was being unreasonable, as well as how fiercely she defended her students, even when they tested her patience just as much as they did his.

He still vividly recalled the first time she cried in front of him. Concern etched on his face, he gently asked if she was alright, and in an instant, she broke down. With her head resting against his chest, her body trembled with sobs, and he found himself instinctively wrapping his arms around her, holding her steady until she found her breath again. Afterward, he brewed her some tea and patiently listened as she poured out her feelings, offering a supportive shoulder and advice whenever she sought it.

He would always remember how she expressed her gratitude, her words wrapping around him like a warm embrace. Over time, they developed a deep understanding of one another that many would describe as intimate, revealing the strength of their bond in a world that often felt overwhelming.

Manirva would make points to call out their friendship that maybe there was more to it which he’d always brush off. Not because of her, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have feelings for her. But he couldn’t confess when he smelled another woman in a love potion. He wouldn’t hurt her because he was guilty of being in love with another, and simply what if she didn’t feel the same? There he would simply have ruined a perfect friendship, he enjoyed her company too much to ruin their bond. Not to mention she was significantly younger than him, so why would she waste her time on a grumpy man? Manirva always rolled her eyes at the excuse she was an adult capable of seeing something good, somebody perfect and capable of giving her the things she deserved.

He Wished Manirva wouldn’t put ideas like that in his head, that he allowed himself to think like that. Cause in truth Manirva was right, she was perfect for him, she was extroverted and full of love, she pushed Severus in situations he deemed uncomfortable or not his scene. He’d let her to, god if it was anyone else he would never. He’d never teach students how to dance with another professor, he’d never make small jokes to amuse the people around him. He’d never ask for another’s opinion, or value one opinion as he did hers.

He liked that his dry sarcastic remarked could make her giggle, he loved the sound of her laugh. How her voice would get a bit higher and quicken when she was excited. He did admire her, her warm complexion matching her aura, how she always wore a beautiful smile, how her eyes always remained doe like, how she talked with her hands and body, how she was always so considerate of her students. He’d never admit it but she surprised him when she got upset for the first time at some 5th year boys disrespecting her and her class she scolded them, her voice stern but she never raised it. He liked seeing her like that. The first time she scolded him, his heart beat heavily in his chest he couldn’t help but grin which only made her angrier. How she scoffed glaring at him, soon to storm away.

“What are you grining about Severus.” A voice teased.

“Nothing mind yourself professor Maverick.” He spoke quickly turing his head away from her.

“Boo don’t be like that whatcha thinking about..” She asked again leaning on the table in front of them her body closer to his. God she smelt good, she always did. She wasn’t even that close to him but the smell of fresh vanilla, shea butter, and the strong smell of lilies as if she rubbed their pollen onto herself, She smelt sweet yet floral.

Turning to face her he said “Thinking about how many teens are gonna end up bothered and hurt by the potion they're oh so excited to brew.”

Her jaw dropped “Severus!” she pushed at him. he chuckled lowly “It happens every year also meant one last couple I have to separate in the halls.”

“That's terrible..” she spoke a smile still on her face, Severus only shrugged. The great hall soon began to empty, students headed towards classes. Y/n smiled at him before leaving herself, he watched her as she left her curls bouncing behind her, the satin rob gliding behind her.

As classes began student gathers around Severus as he began to brew the example for them. He wanted to walk them through every step to ensure they will do it correctly. He’d take his time answering questions as she walked them through, soon he’d have them start as he continued. Students would quietly talk amounts them selves asking their professor questions just for clarification. As he started to finish up, he smelled something sweet yet floral. It didn’t smell of honey, apple spice and ginger as it once did.

No, it smelled of Lillies, fresh vanilla and shea butter.. The sweet aroma hitting his nose, Severus stoped blinking hard to collect his thoughts for he’d just stop talking in the middle of instruction. He glanced up noticing the sixth years still looking at him, too bad for going unnoticed. Severus quickly wrapped his lesson up, letting the student to work amongst themselves. Severus couldn’t help how fast his heart was beating, he was in love with her. He wanted to feel relieved, he was even but again where did her feelings lye?

The end of the day came pretty quickly, the lay period of the day being a prep for himself. As he walked though the halls he was stoped by Manirva and Albus “Severus would you be interested in observing Professor Mavericks lecture with us?” Dumbledore asked.

“Now why would I do that?” he questioned his brow raised, he was gonna go but didn’t wanna make it painfully obvious to the women that stood next to the headmaster.

“Oh come, Severus, it gives you something to do. Plus we both know you want to anyway.” she smiled at him.

He merely rolled his eyes at her playful comment as she impulsively grabbed his arm, her enthusiasm radiating like the bright autumn sun. When they finally arrived, a rich, earthy aroma enveloped them, a refreshing scent that had the power to soothe even the most troubled minds. Severus couldn't help but admire her classroom; it felt as if it had been tailored specifically for her vibrant spirit.

The structure resembled an intricate glass greenhouse, the walls primarily composed of crystal-clear windows that showcased a breathtaking view of the winding river and the majestic forest beyond. Sunlight filtered through, creating a warm, golden glow that illuminated the space.

Inside, the room was a beautiful tapestry of agriculture, each carefully arranged without a hint of chaos. Vines hung gracefully from above, their tendrils curling playfully, while vibrant flowers in varied hues added splashes of color to the serene environment. The ceiling, open to the sky, invited nature's elements inside, allowing birds to flit about and the gentle breeze to playfully rustle the leaves. It was a sanctuary of growth and life, reflecting her passion for the natural world and inviting all who entered to take a deep breath and appreciate the beauty around them.

Severus watched intently as she moved gracefully around the classroom, engaging her students with animated gestures and an infectious enthusiasm. She cast warm smiles at the professors seated in the back, momentarily breaking the professional atmosphere with a touch of friendliness. Unlike the customary robes she usually donned, she wore a stunning dress made of satin, a delicate shade that shimmered between cream and soft gold.

The dress featured long, fitted sleeves that hugged her arms elegantly, while the bodice clung to her figure with a tailored silhouette. As it cascaded down, the fabric relaxed and flowed, creating a gentle, flattering silhouette that gave the impression of ethereal movement. The neckline of the dress sat high, framing her face beautifully and stopping just at the base of her neck, while the back was artfully designed with a slight opening that ended just above the bottom of her shoulder blades.

This design revealed a glimpse of the tattoo that adorned her back, piquing Severus’s curiosity. He had often wondered about the size and artistry of it, a mystery he never dared to inquire about. He suspected it spanned a considerable portion of her back, possibly trailing down her arm, yet she had always kept it concealed beneath her robes until now. The dress accentuated her figure perfectly, hugging her torso down to her hips before falling away softly, emphasizing the graceful lines of her shape.

Her long curls, usually cascading around her shoulders, were swept back in a playful yet messy arrangement held together by a simple clip, allowing the full view of her radiant face. In this moment, she appeared both elegant and approachable, a striking image that captivated him as she continued her lesson, lost in her passion for teaching.

“You’re staring Severus.” Manirva whispered a smirk on her lips. He could hear Albus chuckle next to her.

“Quit it.” he hissed, causing the older women to giggle quietly.

The lesson soon came to an end student leaving her class as well as the headmaster and Manirva, the class room seemed to be still. Severus soon approaching her hands fidgeting behind his back.

“What keeps you, Severus?” She asked as the tall man walked towards her.

“Thought we would walk after.” he spoke.

Her eyes roamed over him, taking in every subtle shift in his posture as she noticed a tension in his shoulders that suggested he might be feeling nervous. Her head tilted slightly to the side, her curiosity piqued by the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. "That's all? You seem like you have something more to say?" she inquired, her voice laced with both intrigue and a hint of challenge, encouraging him to reveal what was clearly weighing on his mind.

She sensed an underlying tension in the air but chose not to press the issue. Severus, on the other hand, felt a restless urgency bubbling within him. His fingers itched to reach into his pocket, where the small vial lay hidden, and offer it to her. With a heart full of hope, he silently prayed that she would catch the faint, intoxicating scent that lingered around him. He yearned for the moment of recognition, convinced by Minerva's encouraging words that there was a possibility she could truly see him for what he was. Yet, the thought of disappointment loomed over him like a dark cloud; the very prospect of her not feeling the same way sent shivers down his spine, amplifying his anxiety. It was a delicate balance of hope and fear, one he could hardly contain as he awaited her response.

“Sev— You can talk to me, You seem bothered..” she spoke up.

He took a small breath “Smell this for me would you, need another person to see if the student made this right..” He lied holding a small vile out for her.

Seeing the potion seemed to make her nervous. A noticeable swallow came from her, her poster becoming more straight. “How come not ask Manirva? she’s more skilled in potions than I..” She was, she was nervous.

“Perhaps, but i’m here with you… I take your intellect into consideration.” He spoke carefully, his eyes still watching.

She turned her gaze momentarily, her eyes drawn to the delicate vial nestled in his hands, its contents swirling with a soft pink hue. Slowly, she leaned closer, her intent focus unwavering as she inhaled the potion’s fragrant aroma. It was clear to her that this potion had been crafted with meticulous care, each ingredient harmoniously blended. The scent enveloped her senses—a warm blend of rich sandalwood intertwined with the earthy notes of herbs, creating a symphony of fragrance that felt almost ancient.

There was also a deep undertone of musk, an essence that hinted at secrets whispered and stories untold. As she breathed in, she caught a whiff of old parchment, soaked in ink, evoking memories of dusty tomes filled with forgotten knowledge. Her heart raced slightly as she looked at him, peering through her fluttering lashes, and her voice emerged like a gentle breeze, barely audible yet filled with sincerity. “I say the potion is perfect...” she murmured, the words hanging in the air like a delicate promise.

The two professors stood closely together, the warmth radiating from their bodies creating an intimate atmosphere. In the stillness of the moment, Severus could distinctly hear the rhythmic thumping of her heartbeat, a sound that seemed to echo and fill the space between them. He glanced at her, curiosity etched across his features. “What is it that you smell?” he inquired, his voice low and deliberate, as he sought to understand the sensations that intertwined them in this charged silence.

Her mouth opened slightly only to close for a moment. “I smell sandalwood, musk, mixture of herbs, and old parchment.”

Severus breath became still, his eyes never leaving her. He watched as she moved his hand causing the potion to go towards his nose. “Now tell me..” she spoke her face close to his, “What is it you smell Professor?”

“I smell vanilla, not fresh but sweet vanilla. I smell shea butter and cashmere, and lillie’s like the strong pollen that comes off them.” He spoke watching her expression. Her face seemed to stay still but the smallest twitch of her lip and how her brows raised was enough to show that she was just as relieved as he was.

There was a sense of relief between the two, a quiet relief. The fact the both had held back for so long just to realize they had feeling for each other. No, that they were in love with one another.

“So when were you going to say something..” She asked playing with her fingers.

Snapes brow raised “How could i have been so sure.. I didn’t want to ruin what we had if you didn’t reciprocate the feelings I hold for you.” He said.

She smiled a small snort coming from her “Severus, i fear i was very loud in the way i felt for you… You think all the things the words my actions were casual? just friendly?”

That made his stand up a bit straighter “ Well..” he couldn’t say anything because now that he thought about it she was right. He was just scared.

He covered his face with his hands out of embarrassment, his how could he have been so incompetent. He could hear he soft laugh, the feeling of her fingers peeling his hands off if his face. Greeting him with a warm smile, “Sev no need to be embarrassed, i’m just glad you feel the same.” she spoke out of relief her eyes looking over his face.

Her hands fell from his face to his chest, “May i kiss you?” he asked suddenly.

“Please do.”

His lips met hers carefully, his hands holding her face gently as he kissed her a soft groan leaving her as their lips met. Their lips moved in sync, the kiss anything but quiet he tilted her head back deepening the kiss. Her grip on his robes became tighter pulling him closer to her. Shifting his body he pushed her against her desk. For only a moment they pulled away admiring each other or a seconded. He lifted her a bit so she sat on her desk, his hands readying on the sides of her as she held his face while they kissed. Perhaps it was the heat of the moment, but as soon as her back fell against the wooden desk and things fell off, she really couldn’t care less.

Severus hands felt up her sides as he kissed on her neck, soft moans left her lips the beautiful sounds making Severus forget any self respect he had for himself in the moments. His grip on her dress tighten the sudden sound of buttons poppingcaused him to stop. His eyes met hers only resolving a look of ‘forget it’, so he did pulling her back up in the window behind them he could see her bare back. The tattoo she only seen the top of run down her spin and bleed off into flowers and vines. If he didn’t have any human decency he’d have her right then and there, she slowed her self to be vulnerable with him and that was something he’d never take advantage of.

The sudden knock at the door caused him to drop her leg and pull her up and off the table quickly, a whisper of reparo and her dress was fixed. Straightening them selves up as the door opened the came face to face with Albus and Manirva.

“Hello!— is there anything i could help you with professors?” Y/n choked out clearing her through of a sudden stutter.

The older professors shared a glance to one another a mischievous grin on the two. “Oh nothing Dear just came to see if you and Severus where going to come and join us for dinner.”

God was it already Dinner time, Severus though. They had gotten carried away with themselves. He watched as Manirva walked up to her her hands carefully fixing Y/ns collar and her thumb whipping under her lip.

“Seemes you made a mess of her.”

“Pardon?” the both said to her.

Manirva pointed to her lips “Have to say Severus never thought a dark cherry would look good in you.” she giggled turning on her heels.

The two younger professors looks at one another and needles to say they weren’t gonna get away with it, smeared lipstick, messy hair and rosy cheeks. Not to mention the mess of school work that had fallen from her desk.

shit.

“Well let you clean up, shall we be expecting you for dinner or are you both going to eat in Your Chambers?” Albus hummed and silly grin hidden under his beard.

“uhh- I think we’ll stay in, we’ll see you at breakfast.” Severus spoke up.

“Ahh, alright you two. Remember you both have class in the morning..” Albus said walking towards the door.

The door soon shut, the pair both groaning quietly for how badly they were just caught. The two weren’t ever going to hear the end of it.

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rhey-007 · 1 year ago

Text

The mystery of Love

Fernando Alonso family fluff

|| P3 of Fernando x goth mommy!reader

• | socialmedia au

Summary: After only 2 appearances on the paddock, little Benny already has all the drivers wrapped around his finger. But which one along with his team will steal the child's heart?

Warnings/Tags: fluff, family fluff, female reader

A/N: WHY IS IT SO HARD TO FIND SUITABLE PICS WITH TODDLER BOYS JXHHZNDNNFNFXEH I had to use Jack Wolff for some🧍‍♀️Anywaaaay this is a longer one just so y'know :)) Enjoy!

(If you'd like to be added to the tag list lemme know!)

Masterlist

✧༺🌊༻✧

"Competition is the best form of motivation"

INSTAGRAM

Silverstone Circuit

liked by maxverstappen1, fernandoalo_oficial and 257,368 others

tagged: y/n._.l/n

•danielricciardo: a little road trip before training! 💪😎

•y/n._.l/n: •fernandoalo_oficial •kl.au_s why is my kid having playdates with literally EVERYONE on the paddock? 🧍‍♀️

→ •kl.au_s: you know well we can't say no to him 👉👈🤭

→ •fernandoalo_oficial: exactly.

→ •y/n._.l/n: I left you for 2 days!

→ •user1: •user2 and tell me they're not together 🧍‍♀️

→ •user2: they already act like a family lol

→ •user3: not Benny adopting the whole grid 😭

•yukitsunoda0511: don't forget about your chauffeur! >:(

→ •user4: of course Yuki had to drive them around 😂

INSTAGRAM

Silverstone Circuit

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, y/n._.l/n and 430,578 others

tagged: silverstonecircuit, y/n._.l/n

•lewishamilton: great race weekend spent in even better company! Thank you Britian!

•fernandoalo_oficial: YOU DID NOT

→ •lewishamilton: yes. I. did. 🤭😎

•user5: not lewis stealing Fernando's kid

→ •user6: not only him, check out Daniel's ig

→ •user7: and Lando's!

→ •user8: basically everyone's lol

•susie_wolff: can't wait to see little bunny again! ❤

→ •user9: the boy got himself a 2nd mother

→ •user10: and whole lotta uncles!

•user11: they even got him a small suit like Jack's I can't 😭✋

→ •user12: they can match!!! 💞

→ •user13: they would slay SO hard 😍

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Silverstone Circuit

liked by the_crochet_girl, y/n._.l/n and 50,238 others

tagged: y/n._.l/n

•hulkhulkenberg: ping-pong session before the training with my boy Chiquito and a quick store break to buy mommy some flowers :)

•user14: isn't it weird that every driver posts pictures with Fernando's kid recently?

→ •user15: yeah and all of them only give attention to Benny, what about Klaus????

•y/n._.l/n: thanks for the flowers! Benny already can't wait for another play date with Noemi and Laura! ❤

→ •kevinmagnussen: they can't wait too! ❤

→ •user16: WHY HAVEN'T WE SEEN THE KIDS PLAYING TOGETHER SDHYCYUESNXIEU

→ •user17: we got ROBBED >:(

INSTAGRAM

Silverstone Circuit

liked by pierregasly, fernandoalo_oficial and 728, 956 others

tagged: silverstonecircuit, y/n._.l/n

•charles_leclerc: thanks for the best boy out there, little bunny, for helping the best team! 💪💞

•user18: you know you ain't the best

•maxverstappen1: who said you were the best? 🤨

→ •carlossainz55: Benny ofc 💅

→ •fernandoalo_oficial: no way he said that

→ •pierregasly: I belive he said that about all the teams 😆

•user19: are the drivers fighting over which team is the best in a random kid's eyes???

→ •user20: that's so cute and stupid xD 💞

INSTAGRAM

Silverstone Circuit

liked by y/n._.l/n, valtteribottas and 269, 034 others

tagged: silverstonecircuit, y/n._.l/n, valtteribottas

•zhouguanyu24: thank you Benny and Klaus for supporting us in Britain! Love you! ❤

•user2137: why is everyone posting about Chiquito?

→ •user22: it's clearly a competition for the best team

•user23: Zhou looks so cute playing with Benny I can't TwT 💞

→ •user24: all of them look sooo cute with Chiquito!

•kl.au_s: finally someone mentioned me, thank you

→ •fernandoalo_oficial: and you said you don't care about the sport nor the people 🤨

→ •kl.au_s: shhh 🤫

- see responses (15)

•user25: love how Fernando and the other kid argue in the comments xD

→ •user26: they literally radiate father and son energy!!!

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liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 825, 093 others

tagged: silverstonecircuit, oscarpiastri, y/n._.l/n

•landonorris: a small ride around the track in new fav tshirt from the best uncles on the grid 🏎💨😎👏

•danielricciardo: *2nd and 3rd best

→ •lewishamilton: *4th and 5th best

- see responses (10)

→ •y/n._.l/n: shut up you're all best uncles 🙄

→ •user27: I think mommy has enough already 😂

→ •user28: I love how y/n is finally active in the f1 world! hope to see them more often on the races!

•user29: the tshirt I can't 😭💞

→ •user30: he looks so cute in it 7fyxitxufxjccjv

INSTAGRAM

Silverstone Circuit

liked by redbullracing, christianhorner and 618, 110 others

tagged: silverstonecircuit, y/n._.l/n, redbullracing

•maxverstappen1: •redbullracing I've got you a future driver 💪🦬

•charles_leclerc: you wish -_-

→ •georgerussell63: you both wish, we all know Chiquito will choose mercedes 😏👉👉

•user31: not another racing suit 😭✋💞

→ •user32: I'm gonna melt... 💞

•user33: other teams should have tried better tbh :/

→ •user34: mercedes and redbull are defo in top 2

→ •user35: aston is definitely number 1 it's obvious 💁‍♀️

INSTAGRAM

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, y/n._.l/n and 182,137 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, y/n._.l/n, kl.au_s

•logansargeant: 🪱🐟🌊

•user36: love how all the drivers show Chiquito around the teams garages and do stuff related to formula while Logan randomly took all 4 of them fishing 😂

→ •user37: it must have been the time of little bunny's life! 💞

•user38: why is it so cute TwT

•fernandoalo_oficial: thanks for a great time!

•user39: why do I feel like he has NO idea about the competition?

→ •logansargeant: what competition? 👁👄👁

→ •user40: exactly! 😂

INSTAGRAM

Silverstone Circuit

liked by kl.au_s, y/n._.l/n and 389, 136 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, kl.au_s, y/n._.l/n

•pierregasly: dinner time with the new grid fam! 🥘🥗🍕

•fernandoalo_oficial: thanks for inviting us for a FREE dinner! 😍

•user41: the guys are spoiling Benny SOO MUCH

→ •user42: he got 2 free meals (1 that he had to fish himself) 2 f1 suits, a little kart, some plushies and probably waaay more things that we have no idea about

→ •user43: all in a spawn of 3 DAYS!

→ •user44: I wish I was Benny 😭

→ •user45: yes. especially that he has such cool hot parents 😍

•charles_leclerc: why was I not invited 🧍‍♀️

→ •y/n._.l/n: want me to adopt you?

→ •charles_leclerc: yes please 😩🙏 I want free food

→ •user6: charles wtf XD

→ •danielricciardo: I want to be adopted too ✋🤓

- see replies (17)

✧༺🌊༻✧

Tag list: @morgan-getty @lichterfee @ashy-kit

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amberjazmyn · 10 months ago

Text

you're everything

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 - you're everything

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 - wedding, happy crying, jensen & louden swain singing at her wedding, callie making jared cry

𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 - callie and jared are at their wedding reception and, to surprise her husband, callie decided that she'd get jensen & louden swain to sing their couple song as flashbacks of their entire relationships also are intertwined.

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - this was inspired by my favourite michael buble song, everything so as you could've guessed, lyrics will be in bold italics, flashbacks in italics and the wedding itself in the normal font. i also recommend listening to everything on repeat whilst reading this cause it'll set the vibe and make it cuter.

masterlist listen to "everything" by michael buble right here!

- - -

"you're a falling star, you're the get-away car. you're the line in the sand when i go too far."

no one expected callie padalecki to surprise her new husband during their wedding reception. most especially jared himself. callie wanted to give her husband the best wedding present and, the only thing she thought that was special enough was for her and jensen and louden swain to sing their couple song, everything by michael buble. that song was probably the most important song in their relationship. the amount of times the couple would hear this song whenever they'd go somewhere was comedic at this point. so, that was when they decided to make it their couple song since they were always hearing it.

jared and callie couldn't help their laughter as they stood at their autograph tables. they were at dallascon about to do autographs when everything by michael buble started to play over the speakers. throughout their dating lives, as they were now engaged, the amount of times they had heard this song was a crazy amount. it was now their couple song for that reason because it started to become a staple in their relationship and they'd hear it everywhere.

then, all of a sudden, the couple got up from their tables and they just started to dance. jensen, misha and mark sheppard all watch with smiles on their faces at the young couple who were just clearly enjoying themselves as their couple song just happened to play over the loudspeakers.

just to make it even better, callie decided to sing the lyrics to her fiancé as they danced together, just having the time of their lives together

"...you're a falling star, you're the get-away car. you're the line in the sand when i go too far..."

"you're the swimming pool on an august day. and you're the perfect thing to say."

it was a nice summer's day in august when it was decided that jared was going to invite his girlfriend, callie and the rest of their costars over to his house for a pool day. everyone had said yes so, it hadn't taken the group of ten (rob, jason, jensen, misha, callie, evangeline, evannah, mark sheppard and richard) more than ten minutes to all arrive at jared's house for a pool day.

this was also the first time that callie had worn a bikini in front of the entire group that wasn't just jared. she had been so scared for so long but, jared had told her that she looked absolutely gorgeous that she trusted her boyfriend that nothing she wore was going to change that fact.

and, it turns out callie didn't have to worry about anything. the second the girls, evangeline and evannah had seen her, they all fawned in excitement at their friend and they all asked her where she got her bikini's from. she then took a moment after telling the girls where her bikinis came from to look at jared who gave her the sweetest smile ever and blew her a kiss. making her blush, that's how she knew she needed to marry jared. he was the perfect thing she needed when her judgement was clouded and she just needed someone else's opinion on something.

the group of ten were having the most amount of fun they could haev ever had together. it was totally uncommon for not just all ten of them to all be on the same vacation schedule but all be in austin, texas together at the same time since they weren't all living in texas together unlike jared, jensen and their girlfriends were. however, it seemed as though this august summer day, they all were and it just turned out perfectly.

jared, jensen amd misha were chucking their girlfriends into the pool as their cheerful screams and giggles filled the entire backyard of jared's austin farmhouse. hearing those giggles and screams gave the utmost joy to the three guys as well as the rest of the group. it was obvious how in love they all were and it truly felt like they were a family and that they were just a bunch of overgrown children that just happened to be adults. they never seemed to get bored of acting childish when they were all together in a group.

the group stayed until around eight pm when they all decided that after one more late-night swim that they would start to leave. jason, rob, misha, mark, richard and evannah had all left so it was only the last four, jared, jensen and their two girlfriend's callie and evangeline. they all sat together outside just to dry off as they took the longest in the pool after the other six had left as they happily sat in silence to think about how great of a day they all had had together.

"...today was an amazing day. it was a successful day, don't you think babe?" jared whispers into callie's shoulder as jensen and evangeline watched on from the other side

"it really was a great day, babe. we should do this more often as this group of ten. i still cannot believe that we were all in austin though at the same time like, that never happens!" callie smiled as she fiddled with jared's fingers as he smiled, jensen and evangeline agreeing

"it for sure was. i still can't believe that either. i was for sure thinking that rob at least would've got back to la for a bit for certain!" evangeline spoke up, callie immediately agreeing with her best friend

the best friends continued to laugh and make jokes together until was time for jensen and evangeline to go home since an early day was on the horizon for the couple. jared and callie then also walked back inside of their farmhouse to continue their winddown in their living space together. changing into some more comfy clothes, jared gave his girlfriend one of his football jersey's, they sat together on the couch, their legs intertwined as they watched some late-night movies before falling asleep in the positions they started in.

"and you play it coy but it's kinda cute. ah, when you smile at me you know exactly what you do."

it was well known that whenever jared smiled, it lit up an entire room because he knew exactly the power of his smile and how powerful it truly was. however, he'd always be coy and act shy about it as if he had no idea how much everyone adored his smile. callie found it cute how shy and coy jared would become after he got complimented for his smile. because he knew that she knew how crazy it drove her whenever he smiled. it wasn't hard to figure out that callie adored her husband's smile. whenever the opportunity arose, callie always took time out of her day to let everyone, far and wide, know how much she loved her husband's smile. it never took a genius to figure it out.

callie watched her husband as he shyly smiled at his seat, watching his wife, best friend and a band that also had more of his best friend's in it, sing on the stage in front of him which was probably his favourite sight to see. besides acting together, whenever jared got to see his wife sing alongside their friends, it brought him a different kind of joy than acting. it was obvious that if callie wasn't an actress, callie would love to have a record label, albums out, and be doing around the world tours non-stop.

"...your smile is absolutely gorgeous babe, have i ever told you that?" callie speaks softly, biting her lip as she caressed her boyfriend's face as they rested together in the white, crisp hotel sheets after a long convention day as jared giggled softly

"yes, you tell me that every second of every day, every chance you get. and i love you, even more, every day for it!" jared smiles shyly as he rolls over to see his girlfriend's face, making her giggle slightly

"i love you most! besides, why do you get so shy about getting complimented on your smile? it's truly the best thing about you that i can see every singel day. i men, your entire face is gorgeous but, it was truly your smile that made me fall in love and want to date you straight away. also the fact that you've got one of the best personalities i've ever seen also..." callie trailed off as she suddenly became tired that her hand had started to limply fall against jared's face, making him chuckle

"...you tired baby girl? you can go to sleep, it's okay!" jared whispered, his texan accent strong as callie tried her hardest, after hearing jared chuckle at her exhaustion and the soft smack to his face, to stay awake as she smiled

"you sure?" callie muttered sleepily as jared smiled, hugging his girlfriend closer

"i'm positive darlin', we had a long day today, you deserve to sleep!" jared whispered as callie smiled into her boyfriend's embrace

"'kay, goodnight," she mumbled as she slowly fell into the best slee she was ever going to get during convention week and she was grateful for it and it was all because of her boyfriend and his to-die-for smile

"baby don't pretend that you don't know it's true. cause you can see it when i look at you."

everyone giggled as jared nodded his head at this lyric that callie and jensen sang together at jared. although jared loved to pretend he didn't know the amount of control his smile had on people, he knew it was true because he could see it when callie looked at him. it always drove the couple crazy when the other looked at them. it always made the other flustered and get all nervous around each other because they literally turned into two teenagers in love around one another. but, that was the beauty of their relationship and now that they were married, they knew it was only going to get better that they were going to stay as lovesick teenagers together.

in all honesty, it still shocked jared that today had happened, that he had married the love of his life. throughout everything that was happening during the wedding reception, he couldn't help but just look all around him as he saw his best friends in the entire world as his groomsmen, some of them onstage right now in the band and as his wife's bridesmaids. he was feeling an abundance of joy right now as his family and wife's family all sat together as they watched their daughter/daughter-in-law sing for their son/son-in-law at their wedding which was the happiest day of their life.

jared moved to the song as he kept direct eye contct with his wife who did the same. it was clear how in love the padalecki's were with one another. even a blind rat could feel the love that the couple had for each other as it wasn't rocket science by any means.

"and in this crazy life, and through these crazy times, it's you, it's you, you make me sing."

and it was true, no matter how crazy life got for the couple, it was always jared that made callie sing in times where she felt like she couldn't. it made jared's heart light up whenever he heard callie sing, she sang so beautifully. whether it was this song by michael buble or heaven by bryan adams, it was always jared that could convince callie to sing whenever life felt crazy.

as she, jensen and rob all sang and as jared listened and danced around, the memory of when callie first sung at a supernatural convention seeped through both of their heads at the exact same time. however, it was a memory so extensive that it was never shared with anyone that was outside of the orion concert hall in rome, italy 2016. it was the year after jared had his breakdown and had returned back to jibcon which meant that it was a very emotional weekend. so, due to how emotional it was, it was a memory that was rarely spoken about outside of the jib convention. this means that this memory will not be shared in flashback form as callie wanted to concentrate and get through her favourite couple song without crying. it also seemed as though jared didn't want to share this memory either because he also didn't want to cry any more than he already had today.

"you're every line, you're every word, you're everything."

jared knew how special he was to his wife. he knew all too well that he was his girlfriend's entire world so, he never took that for granted. he never could because then that would make him greedy and selfish and, that wasn't the person he was. he was always someone who desired to be selfless and give to those who needed him. and, that is who he is. he always gives himself to everyone but, sometimes, he gives too much of himself. but, that's what callie's for. whilst jared means so much to callie, she also acknowledges that she needs to be everything that jared needs, just like he is everything that she needs. they were both every line, every word, everything.

"you're a carousel, you're a wishing well, and you light me up when you ring my bell."

now, this for sure could be taken in a sense of umm, you know what. however, it just makes jared and callie laugh every single time. i mean, if you really wanted the couple to take this lyric seriously, callie would occasionally use jared as a playground just like a child would use their parents (usually their dad) as their playground but, she would also use him as a wishing well where she'd be granted all of her wishes. whic, would then at the drop of a hat (not a ring of my bell) light her up inside because of how happy she was when her wishes came true. of course, it seemed childish but, that was something callie didn't really get to have due to the copious amount of trauma and abuse she suffered growing up. so, when it did come to callie acting "childish" it was never something she was offended by when itr was asked during a convention by a fan or just by a random person that walked past.

callie watched with a bright smile as she saw what was left of her family which were her uncle and aunt on her dad's side which was "in all honesty) the only side of the family she had a relationship with and then the rest of her siblings as they all mingled with jared. her aunt and uncle, who she actually called mom and dad, were on either side of jared as they talked with big smiles on their faces as every couple minutes, laughter would ensue and, it just made her heart burst. she was glad that they were jared's father and mother in law because they really were the only two fit for that job. they absolutely adored jared and jared absolutely adored them and it was a match made in heaven, in true honesty.

"you're a mystery, you're from outer space, you're every minute of my every day."

everyone squealed in excitement, including callie when jared rushed on stage to join his wife as he was getting reckless, wanting to dance with his wife so badly. thankfully, louden swain and jensen were still there singing background the entire time so if the moment was to ever come up, they were going to take over the rest of the song.

she giggled, the mic picking it up as jared pulled her away so he could get her do dance with her. thankful she was wearing a slip dress, it was easier to dance in so jared nor callie had to worry about tripping hazards or ruining it.

just because she was away from the microphone, that didn't mean that callie had stopped singing. whilst jensen was the one being heard singing on the microphone as rob joined in for background vocals, callie's voice was the only one jared was hearing.

that was until he decided to join in on the next verse, which was callie and jared's favourite part of the song and it showed as they danced to it with the most amount of energy possible.

"and i can't believe, uh, that i'm your man, and i get to kiss you, baby, just because i can!"

jared jokingly sang to his wife, making her giggle as the crowd cheered as jared then dipped his wife. only to kiss her in the most glorious way as the smile on her face could have cured all the diseases and evil in the world. her laughter could be heard from miles away as the wedding guests watched on in awe and love for the married couple. seeing their best friend, daughter, sister and wife so happy and giggly like a little kid was always an emotional thing. jared's smile and laughter also had the same effect on the world as well but when callie and jared smiled and laughed together, then it truly was double trouble. their smiles and laughter brought peace and happiness to every single person. it made everyone feel safe and like nothing could go wrong because they had jared and callie so happy and giving the gift of joy to everyone who encountered the couple.

the husband and wife danced together in the middle of the dance floor asthe soulful voice of their best friend, jared's best man, jensen rang through the austin, texas barn that was housing the padalecki's wedding reception. callie twirled as jared brought her back into his chest as they continued to sway side to side with huge smiles on their faces as they softly sang the lyrics to each other

however, it was obvious that it was getting boring that it was only the married couple on the dance floor so, that was when callie called out and motioned for everyone alongside jared that they could if they so chose to, join her and jared on the dance floor.

"...come on y'all, if you want, you can join us!" callie called out, jared doing the same thing as everyone cheered in excitement

within a couple of seconds, everyone was out of their chairs and all on the dance foor dancing with their friends, siblings, partners or even on their own or in small groups as jensen, rob and louden swain continued to sing.

"whatever comes our way, ah, we'll see it through, and you know that's what our love can do."

jared and callie smiled as they danced together, they were way too excited about what was to come next in their marriage, especially considering that right before the wedding, callie had taken a pregnancy test. of course, she let jared know she had done it but, she had done it with evangeline and evannah and they still had no clue whether or not it had come back positive or not. whilst they were hoping for it to come back positive, if it hadn't, it wasn't something the padalecki's were going to ugly cry over. because, in all honesty, jared and callie should not have "broke tradition" by having pre-marital sex literally days before their wedding but, they did and they went just a little bit far.

"and in this crazy life, and through these crazy times, it's you, it's you, you make me sing."

it seemed as though, due to how jared and callie saw t heir best friends and bridesmaids facial expressions, the pregnancy test results had come back had that they needed to tell the couple. thankfully, everyone else was all preoccupied with jensen, rob and their dancing so no one seemed to notice that the married couple were now no longer in the middle of the stage as they all just sub-consciously went to fill in that gap as they continued dancing and focusing on jensen and rob.

"-what's going on girls? everything okay?" jared is the first to ask as he holds his wife's hand as they are slightly out of breath from all the dancing they had done

evangeline, jensen's wife, breaks first, handing over the first pregnancy test out of the three that callie had taken. grabbing it out of her best friend's hand, callie looked up to her husband before smiling at each other as she then looked at it. the smile that blew up her face was a smile that hadn't ever been seen by anyone in ages. it was the smile that only came to see the light of day at a pregnancy announcement and because jared was so familiar with it, it clicked in his head pretty quickly what his wife's pregnancy test said.

"what...what does it say babe?" even though he was pretty certain he knew, he still wanted to hear his wife say it because just hearing that would make his wedding day to his wife even better

"we're...we're pregnant jared! i'm...i'm pregnant with our first child!" she squeaked out in excitement as she couldn't help the squeals that left her mouth as jared felt tears well in his eyes as he picked up his wife

"we're gonna be parents, baby!" he squealed out tearfully, spinning his wife around before placing her back down as she nodded her head

she then looked at evannah who was holding the other two as she had a huge smile on her face.

"the other two say the same thing?" callie confirms with evannah who smiles and nods her head which causes the four of the them to squeal again in happiness at the news that callie was pregnant at her own wedding and no one else knew but this group of four!

"you're every line, you're every word, you're everything so, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. so, la, la, la, la, la, la."

now that mr and mrs knew that callie was pregnant, they danced the rest of the night away in jubilation. they also knew that they next needed to tell their families. however, they knew they were needing to wait since the pregnancy was still on the border of being early and the start of second trimester. but, were they worried to tell their families about the fact they had pre-marital sex and were now becoming parents just mere days before being pronounced as husband and wife, absolutely not. because, funny enough, the same thing happened to callie's biological parents that she emancipated herself from. they became pregnant with her on their wedding day.

it seemed as though both families could already sense it due to the change of joy but, the families didn't disclose if they did know or not.

rob and jensen then gave them strange looks as they then told them they'd tell those two later as the two men continued to sing. finishing up the song so they could then start the next song and continue the party.

"and in this crazy life, and through these crazy times, it's you, it's you, you make me sing."

everyone screamed out from the tops of their lungs as they all danced together in joy and celebration for the married couple that they had just witnessed get married.

"you're every line, you're every word, you're everything."

jared and callie giggled, sang, twirled, dipped and kissed as they couldn't believe the fun they were having at their own wedding. they for sure would've thought they'd have bailed on their own reception to have some private time together but, they didn't feel the need to do that. all because they felt all the love in the world from their best friends, they didn't need to run away to get it from one another. and it was also because they didn't want to spend any time away from their family and friends. they wanted to soak up all the love and laughs from them all.

this was everything.

"you're every song and i sing along. cause you're my everything. yeah, yeah."

it was true, jared was callie's everything and callie was jared's everything. they didn't need nor want anything else apart from each other and their newest addition that was their new baby padalecki.

also, they told jensen and rob and the rest of the bridal party ended up being the best part of the whole thing. if anything, they had the best reaction to anyone that the couple had either told or those that guessed. so, let's just say that jared and callie padalecki's wedding was a success. even with the tears from the bride, groom and the wedding guests, nothing could have ruining the wedding.

"so la, la, la, la, la, la, la. so, la, la, la, la, la, la, la,"

- - -

hmm, i could have certainly done this better but, that's okay! i still love it and find it adorable.

ok bye ily xx

word count; 4285

#supernatural cast #fluff #maybe a little sexy?#jared padalecki x ofc callie padalecki #you're everything #jensen ackles #misha collins #rob benedict

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applesontheground · 25 days ago

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I’m new here, I’m not sure if you accept requests for x readers but if you could do Asa Emory x reader (possibly wife reader) who knits him scarfs/ gloves and stitches his name into his clothes (clothes such as jumpers, the waistline of underwear, shirts, vests e.c.) I’d really appreciate it!! Ofc it’s fine if you ignore this, keep safe and take good care of yourself!! Xx

hi! it's been awhile since i've done the headcanon format, so i don't mind this at all! thanks for the well wishes (and for being VERY patient since sending this in not last february, but the one before that ... yeesh. i'm sorry and i hope i could make the wait worth it ;; )

headcanons - asa emory with a knitting/sewing spouse!reader

(p.s. the reader does not know about the collector, just to make it extra sneaky beaky)

He has a hand in a few "sewing" techniques himself, so whether this is something shared with him early on or all the way until after your marriage is well underway, he's smitten by it all the same. Everyone needs a hobby, after all.

Just sitting together, after another night where university work had kept him late, the two of you popping all personal bubbles in a way where you can still work and he decompresses. Sometimes talking, sometimes just finding a good cuddle position to make it work. I like the rowboat position, sitting between his legs and both of you splayed on the couch in pajamas while he reads, a hand around your waist and staying out the way as you work.

The tokens for him, a scarf with your best attempt at a centipede down the middle, gloves with little pillbugs on them since they're easier, etc. ... he only wears them to work, preserving them the best he can/saving them for when it's utterly cold outside, etc.

The one time he's talkative with coworkers is when they ask about the garments, and he loves to simply state with big, thoughtful eyes back down on the scarf/gloves/etc.:"My [wife/husband/spouse] made them, [he's/she's/they're]great with the needle work."

The sewing into the tags is something you start to do one year in secret, maybe for Valentine's Day just to show the care you feel alongside the usual date/gifts/etc. for whenever he sees it next.

You think you did something wrong with the way he comes home maybe months after, holding his jacket out to you with a bright green ASA stitched in the tag. "When did this start, my sweet!?" He's embarrassed, elated, just head over heels at a small detail getting past him for so long, and that is when you start noticing any new piece of clothing with a tag missing its ASA routinely left out after laundry.

You see a balaclava in one of your sewing workbooks, joke to him about making him one in assumption he wouldn't want to look ready to rob a bank during the Winter. He doesn't find it funny, and the next day you find an abundance of black yarn and fabrics in your stockpile, whatever he remembers it needing. If that's what the husband wants, I meannn...

He wears it under the Collector mask during the colder months, the colder jobs even. Some spots in the hotel have to be a little bit cold to preserve what he has going on in there.

Some of his victims have your name sewn onto them just because he wants to know how to do it, too. The ones that he doesn't leave to be found, anyways. Someone's still got a widdle crush after all this time. :)

#asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #slasher x reader #requests #slasher requests #notsfw #✏️#🕷️#god i need to rewatch these movies some time just to take all the wrong things out of them again #the way i could easily see him being a good and attentive husband....#like that mass murderer bit from kids in the hall

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foundtherightwords · 2 months ago

Text

Fallen Empires - Chapter 2

Pairing: Geta x OFC

Summary: Having done the unthinkable to secure his throne, Emperor Geta rules with ruthlessness and paranoia. Now, after escaping an assassination attempt, a badly injured Geta is saved by Daphne, a young widow, who takes him back to her remote village without knowing his true identity. As Daphne nurses the former emperor back to health, attraction blooms between them, and Geta discovers a soft side he didn't know he possessed. But can their love survive his thirst for revenge and his desire to reclaim power?

Chapter warnings: none

Chapter word count: 4.2k

Prologue + Chapter 1

Chapter 2

He was burning up. He had gone through the Styx, so this must be Phlegethon, the river of fire that coils around the Earth and flows into the depths of Tartarus. Would that he was in the Lethe, so he could forget all this pain. The twin blades in his shoulder and his ribs were back, and the awkward position of his body only exacerbated them. He was face down, sprawled across some sort of chair or saddle, which lurched and jolted underneath him like a boat over a fierce river. This confused him, for there was no boat across the Phlegethon, only the fiery current that burned the souls of sinners.

And he could spy those souls now, dark shapes that emerged from the flames and rushed at him, trying to drag him down with them. He thought he recognized one of them, a young man who struck him as particularly familiar, even in silhouette. And behind this young man, thousands and thousands more. His victims. But that made no sense. If his victims were here, that meant they were sinners and he had done right to kill them. So why was he here as well? Why were the flames licking at his head and his neck and his body, burning, scorching? And if he belonged here, why were his victims suffering along with him? Who was the righteous?

A jolt of pain shot through his torso, taking his breath away, and he came back to reality. Light was shining into his eyes, hurting them, though it was firelight or sunlight he could not tell. He couldn't lift a hand to shield himself or turn his head away from it. His limbs and even his eyelids appeared to be made of stone, so heavy they were, and a fog had settled over his brain, blurring everything and robbing him of any control over his mind and body. More than anything, it was this loss of control that frightened him. He had always been in full command of himself, and to be unable to speak or move was a terrifying form of torture he wouldn't wish even on his worst enemy.

Then the lurching stopped, and after some violent jolting, he found himself lying on hard ground, on his side, which made breathing less painful. He opened his eyes and saw flames. This really was the Phlegethon then. A dark figure crouched by the fire. One of those lost souls? Charon? No, there was no Charon. No Phlegethon. Only the stream. A horse. And a woman. And those green, green eyes. He couldn't see the eyes of the dark figure, whose face was hidden under a cowl.

The figure moved toward him. An arm slipped under his shoulder, lifting him, which hurt, and he felt a cup pressed to his lips. He closed his teeth against it and turned away, instinctively. He never drank or ate anything without having his taster test it first. But the cup followed his mouth.

"Drink it," a soft voice said. "It will make you feel better."

Better, meaning he would be well again, or better, meaning he would be dead and no longer in pain? He wasn't sure which would be preferable. That terrible burn of anger during his flight had been replaced by a creeping, nagging fear, brought on by his vision of the Phlegethon, and he was afraid that, should he recover, those ghosts in his dream would become too tangible, too real.

"Drink it," the voice repeated, a touch more impatient now. "I haven't gone through all the trouble to rescue you only to poison you. Drink."

He couldn't argue with that. And either way, he was too weak to fight off the cup. He unclenched his teeth, a bitter dose was poured into his mouth, and soon, darkness obscured everything.

But even in this darkness, the ghosts, the lemures, refused to leave him be. The darkness splintered into a million pieces, and each piece became a shadowy spirit that circled him, howling in his ears, clawing at him with their sharp talons and teeth, like a swarm of harpies, and he was too weak to drive them away. Some pieces of darkness coagulated into a bigger, human shape. It was the same figure of the young man he'd seen in the river of fire, now moving toward him with deliberate, inexorable steps. He curled up, trying to shield his eyes from its vengeful stares, but as it often happened in dreams, he found himself unable to move. It moved closer to the fire. Now there was nothing to prevent him from seeing its face—only there was no face. Above the neck, there was just a blank slab of skin, no eyes, no nose, no mouth, nothing at all. Yet somehow, as this abomination bent over him, Geta could still feel hatred radiating from it, like a heat wave over the desert.

He lashed out his arm with a feeble cry.

Something—or rather, someone—caught his arm. A hand slipped into his, a small, cool hand, soft of skin but firm of touch, and a gentle voice murmured something in his ears. The lemures and the shades were driven back, faded away. The dark became as it used to be in his childhood, friendly and restful, and he slept.

That was how it went for the next few days, though in truth he didn't know how much time had passed. Things happened in flashes and flickers, like shadows surrounding a campfire. He would open his eyes and see the dark figure stirring the fire, and a cup would be pressed against his lips, sometimes containing the bitter drink, sometimes containing something else, more palatable. Then sunlight would be hurting his eyes and he would feel coarse hair under his cheek and an animal smell in his nose. The pain in his shoulder and his chest was back, but he was grateful, for it helped him stay awake and avoid the realm of Hades in his dreams. But sometimes the pain was too much and he would slip into the world of darkness and ghosts and fire again, until that soft hand, that gentle voice, and occasionally those green eyes as well, brought him back.

He thought it would never end, this torturous journey with the brief rests that didn't bring much reprieve at all and only worsened the misery. Perhaps this was his punishment in Tartarus, just an endless, painful journey in a guttering dark that led nowhere at all.

At some point, the jolting worsened, and he felt himself sliding off the saddle, until someone caught him and righted him, wrenching a groan of pain out of him. They were going uphill. Then he was half-dragged, half-carried into a thicker darkness, and, thank Jupiter, there was no more bumping or jostling after that.

The journey was over, though the fire in his body, the pain, and the ghosts remained. More liquids were poured down his throat, something slightly sweet, something savory, like a broth. He felt better and then he felt worse. When the fire threatened to burn him, the bitter drink was brought out again, which sent him into a heavy, dreamless state of unconsciousness that was worse than even the ghosts. If he had been able to talk, he would have told whoever was looking after him to stop, to find him those hands and those eyes, which could help him much more effectively than a thousand bitter doses, but the mysterious Hippocrates remained inexorable, and the medicining continued.

Things swam into his view and took shape—a rough wall, a crudely made table, a small window, and a dark, scurrying shape. His mind knew them to be real, even that dark figure, who moved in a human way that was far different than the lemures of his nightmares. But before he could grasp them and form a picture of his surroundings, they were gone again, slipped back into the fire and the darkness. They came back though, more and more often, until one day, the fire finally cooled and the darkness receded. He opened his eyes and saw, clearly, not Hades, but a small, bare room—little more than a cell, really. He searched himself. He was dressed in a linen undertunic, coarse but clean, and there were bandages, smelling pungently of vinegar and some sort of herb, around his torso. His shoulder and ribs still ached, dully, and then sharply when he tried to move, and he was still lightheaded, but his mind was clear for the first time in days.

He sat up, stifling a groan, and discovered that he was lying in a low bed, on a lumpy mattress and pillow stuffed with what felt like raw sheep's wool, and covered with linen sheets. A tiny window gave the room its only source of light. The wooden shutters were closed, so only a few scattered rays came through, but they were enough to show him mud-brick walls with a door set into the far end, earthen floor smoothed by years of footsteps, and all the furniture, which consisted of the bed, a table, and a trunk. His cloak and belt were hung on a nail on the wall, and his boots stood underneath, but there was no sign of his tunic or his dagger. An earthenware jug and cup sat on the table.

So this was where he was. The picture he'd only seen in snatches and fragments was now whole at last.

The sight of the jug made him realize how thirsty he was. He reached for the cup, but his arm was weak as a newborn's and fell short. His hand dropped onto the table, rocking it, and the cup fell over with a clatter.

The door opened. Light poured into the room, momentarily blinding him. A hooded figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light. Geta's heart seized as the old superstitious fear came creeping back. Was it Thanatos, coming to claim him at last? Then the figure moved into the room, and he breathed more easily. It was a woman. He peered at her, trying to see if she was his guardian spirit with the green eyes. She lifted a hand to pull down her dark mantle, revealing a long, thin face with sharp features, accentuated by dark hair smoothed back over her brow into a simple knot at the back of her head. Her eyes were green, but they were a muted, pale green, nothing like the brilliant, calming green that had saved him from his nightmares. Could she be the same woman?

"You're awake," the woman said in Greek. Her accent was strange, though it was Syrian or Arabic, he couldn't tell. "Feeling better, I hope?" He tried to match her voice to the murmurs he'd heard in his sleep, but couldn't remember what it had sounded like. He only remembered being soothed by it.

"Who are you?" he asked. His voice only came out as an incoherent rasp. Seeing him struggle to swallow, the woman rushed forward, picked up the fallen cup, poured some water from the jug into it, and held it to his lips. The water was cool and sweet. He gulped mouthful after mouthful, almost without stopping to swallow. As the water slid down his throat, his chest unexpectedly tightened in pain, and he spluttered, spilling water and spit everywhere.

"Slow down," the woman said unnecessarily. "Your wounds are not yet healed."

He coughed and coughed, feeling as though his torso may tear open. It was a long time before the coughing subsided and he lay back on the bed, exhausted. By Jupiter, had he been reduced to such a weakling that a sip of water could hurt him so?

The woman put the cup to his lips again. He took smaller sips this time, letting the water cool his parched mouth and throat.

"Who are you?" he repeated. His voice was still faint, but at least it was audible. "Where am I?"

"My name is Daphne, I'm a healer," the woman said. "This is my hut. I found you floating on a stream in the Balikh Valley and brought you back to my village."

The Balikh! That was near the border between Osroene and Syria! By Jupiter, how long had he floated in that stream? But at least they spoke Greek here, that meant he was still within the Empire and hadn't strayed over to the Parthian side.

"My knife?" he demanded, not caring how brusque he sounded. His chest hurt so much he could only speak in short sentences, politeness be damned.

"I put it away, so you won't injure yourself or others." She glanced at the door, and that was when he noticed a strip of linen tied around her face, covering what looked like a cut. Had he done that?

"Give it back," he said.

"You've no business wielding a knife in your condition."

"Give me my knife!" he growled, and fell into another fit of coughing.

The woman looked at him critically for a moment, then she heaved a sigh of resignation and went into the front room. She returned a moment later with the dagger, still in its sheath, holding it strangely, like one would a kitchen knife, not a weapon. She handed it to him and quickly moved away, as if afraid he would spring out of bed and attack her.

"There," she said, "though I must say there is absolutely no need for it here. You're safe."

Safe? He was far from safe. Even as his body writhed and trembled from pain, his mind was clearing up fast, and memories came flooding back, vivid without the nightmarish haze that had veiled everything during his fever.

He remembered everything now. The march from Edessa to Carrhae to visit the temple of Sin, the Babylonian moon god, to pray for victory in the upcoming war with Parthia. The stop by the side of the road, overlooking a ridge, so he could relieve himself. The sound of furtive footsteps on the gravel behind him. "I've told you men not to follow," he'd grumbled, not bothering to turn around. "I need no attendant just to take a piss." Then the white-hot explosion of pain across his shoulder, spinning him around. The face of his attacker swam in front of his eyes, twisted in hatred. Martialis. One of his most trusted guards. Martialis had been pestering Geta to grant him a centurion position, but Geta had refused, preferring to keep a man he could trust close by. That had been his fatal mistake... or near fatal.

In the shock of the moment, somehow, Geta had had the presence of mind to pull out his own dagger and bury it Martialis's neck with one hand, while with the other hand, he'd grabbed at Martialis's knife as it stabbed into his chest, toward his heart. He had stumbled backward, rolled down the ridge, and then there was a dark, blank space in his mind, only broken up by snatches of memories like an unfinished mosaic—the painful staggering across a rocky landscape, the stream, Charon, the fire, and that hellish trip... He tried not to think of the ghosts.

"What happened to you?" the woman asked. "Was there a battle?"

Clearly, she believed he was a soldier. Good. He had no intention of persuading her otherwise. How lucky it was that he now preferred the simple clothes of a soldier to the elaborate imperial garb he'd once been used to. His intaglio ring, carved with the eagle and wreath that symbolized his power, was still on his finger, but the woman didn't recognize the image. No one would, save for those who were privy to seeing it on the seals of official documents.

"No battle," he said. "I was—attacked."

"By whom?"

He gripped the knife, finding comfort in its weight in his hand, thinking how ironic it was that the dagger that had meant to kill him was now his only weapon. How much should he tell her? He thought of Martialis again. The man couldn't have acted alone. The journey to Carrhae had been spontaneous, suggested by Macrinus, the praetorian prefect, who believed such a visit would bolster the army's failing morale and prepare them for the renewal of their campaign against Parthia. Whoever wanted Geta dead would have had to plan the assassination for a long time in order to seize this opportunity. Martialis didn't—hadn't had it in him—to seize such an opportunity, much less to plan and scheme. That was another reason why Geta hadn't wanted to make him a centurion. He didn't think Martialis would have made a good commander. A soldier through and through, a follower. Then who could have whispered poison in Martialis's ears and turned him against Geta, against his own Emperor?

He motioned to the cup, and the woman obligingly put it to his lips again, before retreating a safe distance away. "How far—are we—from Carrhae?" he asked.

"Five or six days' walk, over the hills. Is that where you came from?"

He shook his head. "Going there," he said. "From Edessa." It was a known fact that the army had been wintering in Edessa; it should be safe to tell her that much.

"Why were you marching on Carrhae?" the woman inquired. "Those two soldiers said the Parthians weren't going to attack us, but I don't like the looks of them. And they mentioned nothing about Carrhae."

This was new. He lifted his head. "What soldiers?"

"They were asking around for you," she said. "The day after I found you. But you said to hide you, so I told them I've seen nothing." She peered at him closely. "Was that wrong?"

So they had been searching for him. But why only two? Why weren't they tearing up the entire province to find him?

"What do they—look like?"

She described them, a rat-faced blonde and a dark-haired one with a scar. "To own the truth, they didn't seem too concerned about finding you," she added.

Geta didn't remember such men from his retinue. That raised his suspicion. He believed the army was loyal to him, but sending only two, seedy-looking and apparently incompetent men to search for him didn't inspire much confidence.

"Did they say anything else?"

"They mentioned someone called Martialis."

So they knew. Of course they had to know; the knife to the neck was enough to kill the traitor, and once they saw Martialis's corpse and discovered the Emperor missing, they should come to the right conclusion immediately. And yet—

"What's the date?" he asked.

"Three days past the ides of April," the woman said, and again he felt a shock. It had been eight days past the calends of April when they set out from Edessa. So for ten days he had been missing, yet there had been no widespread search, no outcry. It confirmed his suspicion that there was a conspiracy.

Who could it be? Could it be Artabanus IV, the Parthian king, wanting to dispatch him by subterfuge rather than facing him on the battlefield? Could it be someone hired by a disgruntled Senator, or by the entire Senate, who was tired of emptying the Empire's coffer for his wars? Could it even be a follower of his brother, someone he'd missed? He had too many enemies to count, and thinking of them made his head pound and his chest hurt. He dropped back on the mattress with labored breaths. One thing was clear: regardless of who was behind this conspiracy, he was in no condition to do anything about it.

The woman, the healer—he hadn't caught her name—was still peering at him. "I understand if you do not wish to tell me what happened to you," she said stiffly. He could tell she was not used to formal speeches. "But I cannot in good conscience let you perish here if there is help and better care elsewhere. If there is anyone you wish to send words to, let me know. The commander of your legion, perhaps, or a magistrate?"

There were only two people he trusted—Macrinus in Edessa, and his mother, currently in Antioch. But before he knew who wanted him dead, it would be too risky to contact them, lest the missive fell into the wrong hands. No doubt Macrinus was even now rousing all forces for a search, and Macrinus would know to proceed with the utmost caution. If the Parthians or any enemy of Rome got wind that the Emperor was missing, it would be the end of the Empire.

"No," he said at last. "It's best that no one knows I'm here. But if you hear of any talk in your village, you are to inform me immediately." He heard the commanding note in his voice, and realized a simple soldier shouldn't be speaking thus. "I mean, I would be obliged if you let me know of any news or rumors," he corrected himself.

The woman still hesitated, and he thought he understood her concern. "See me through this," he said, "and you'll be handsomely repaid for your trouble."

"I don't need your payment," she said, sounding offended.

He snorted. "Do you heal people out of the goodness of your heart then?"

She ignored his jab. "All I need to know is, will I be in danger for taking you in?" she asked. "Either from you, or the men looking for you?"

He lifted himself up, with difficulty, to look at her. Seeing him struggle, she rushed forward and put her hands under his arms to help him. Her hands were strong, capable. He remembered how they had reached for him through the darkness and the fire and brought him out of hell itself. She had saved his life. And no matter what people called him, tyrant and murderer and worse, let no one say that Publius Septimius Geta was an ingrate.

"You won't come to harm," he said. "I swear it, by Jupiter and Minerva and—"

She shook her head. "I don't need your vow, just your word."

"Then you shall have it."

The woman fixed her gaze on him, her eyes piercing and inquisitive, with none of the softness he remembered from his dreams. But it had to be the same woman; who else could it be? All that nonsense about her eyes being greener than the hills of Caledonia must be the imagination of his fevered brain, no more. And it was nonsense. The hills of Caledonia were a hostile place, cold and craggy and full of hiding Picts waiting to drop boulders onto his men and bury axes in their skulls, not the place of rest and peace he'd dreamed of at all.

The woman weighed his word and seemed to decide that it was good enough. She eased him onto the pillow and got to her feet. "Can you tell me your name, at least?" she asked.

A simple question. He could have given her any name, any at all. Yet the question nagged at him. He had been born Publius Septimius Geta. He had become Severus Antoninus upon his father's ascent to the throne. He had been Caesar and Augustus and Domine. He had been called, both in friendly jest and in sneering mockery, Tarautas, after a famously violent gladiator. Now, he had no idea who he was.

"Romulus," he said eventually, thinking of the first king of Rome. The one who had struck down his brother and built an empire. The one who survived. "You may call me Romulus."

The woman frowned slightly. He held his breath. It was a common enough name, with no connection to his own. Did she suspect something? He put his hand under the pillow, closing his fingers around the hilt of the dagger.

"Just Romulus?" she asked.

"Romulus Publius," he said before he could stop himself. Perhaps it was foolish of him to use his praenomen, but then again, he thought to himself, it was common enough.

Thankfully, the woman raised no further questions or comments about his name. She merely nodded and turned to the door. Geta let out a small, almost imperceptible breath of relief, and released the dagger.

"I didn't catch your name," he called after her.

"It's Daphne," she said.

"Like the tree?" he asked, puzzled.

She smiled. "My true name is Nysa, after my grandmother, but she called me Daphne because I was always climbing her laurel tree as a child." Her face softened at the memory, and for a moment, Geta could almost recognize the guardian spirit from his dreams.

"Rest," she said. "If you need anything, I'm right outside." She went out, closing the door behind her.

Geta put his head on the pillow and tried to relax. Rest, yes. That was what he needed. Revenge would have to wait.

Chapter 3

Again, I'm sticking with historical facts by keeping Macrinus's office as praetorian prefect, which he held during Caracalla's reign.

Taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92, @justnobodynothingmore, @barcelonaloverf1life, @myotakureprieve (if you want to be tagged, let me know!)

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic #gladiator 2 #emperor geta #emperor geta fic #geta #emperor geta x ofc #geta x ofc

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