#a few days ago it was bad enough that i thought it was mild food poisoning

[queensabriel]

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[writing-till-i-am-dead]

Marcille x Fem!Reader - Sick Day

May I interest you in some lesbian fluff?

Chilchuck walked over to the party, his face painted with mild concern.

"Hey, guys. I, uh.. think there's something wrong with Y/N."

Laios looked over curiously and could only get out the words "What do you-" before Marcille cut him off.

"What do you mean!? Is she ok? What's wrong with her?" With each sentence, she got closer and closer to Chilchuck, her eyes wide with worry.

"I just think she's sick!" Chilchuck said, raising his hands defensively.

"Sick!?" She turned to glare at Senshi and Laios. "This is your guys' faults!"

"Huh?!" Laios exclaimed. "How is it our faults?!"

"That jackalope you cooked last night! It was so undercooked!"

Chilchuck nodded in agreement. "Ya. Not your guys' best work."

Senshi looked down in shame and Laios sniffled a little before saying, "Then how are we not sick?"

"Because you two are built different, that's why!" Marcille clenched her fists. "Y/N only ate that meal out of pity as to not hurt your feelings!"

She dramatically turned. "I'll go take care of her."

Chilchuck shrugged. "Try not to get vomited on."

Marcille shuddered and turned to him and quietly said, "Don't you ever say that to me again.." She shook her head and entered Y/N's room.

"Y/N.. are you ok?"

Marcille heard a groan of pain and saw Y/N's sleeping bag shift around. Marcille sighed a little and walked over, gently shaking the sleeping bag.

"Y/N.." she said softly.

Y/N poked her head out and Marcille clicked her tongue. "You definitely got food poisoning."

Y/N groaned and rolled on her side, grumbling and her stomach making gurgling noises.

"Take deep breaths," Marcille guided, her voice soft and gentle. She stroked her hair as a means to help try and alleviate the pain. Due to not having eaten the meal last night, nor had any breakfast this morning, Marcille has no mana to try and heal Y/N. Welp. She'd have to do this the old-fashioned way, then!

"Want me to get you some water?" Marcille asked.

"Wouldn't I just vomit that up?" Y/N asked.

"Oh, well, I.." Marcille thought for a moment. Would she just vomit it up? Marcille actually had no idea. She's never actually tried to help someone feel better without using healing magic (even though she was really bad at it and usually ended up making the person feel even worse with healing-pains).

Y/N stared at her with a waiting expression. She always did get so grumpy when she was in pain. Marcille learned that a long time ago.

"Um.. uh.. I-I'll ask Senshi for some advice! I'll be right back, ok?" Marcille said before quickly getting up and running out.

"Senshiiiiii!!" Marcille called out, panicking a little. "Do you have any advice on how to make someone feel better from food poisoning?"

"Hmmm." Senshi thoughtfully stroked his beard. "Well, don't let her eat for a couple of hours. Try and have Y/N drink tiny sips of water every few minutes or so, to avoid dehydration. After a while, try and get her to eat some bland, nonflavored foods. Like crackers or toast!"

"But we don't have crackers or toast.." Marcille said, hunching her shoulders.

"I'll whip some up. We still have some flour from the orcs-"

"Oh no! Your food caused this, Senshi!"

"Oh, it was one slip up. I only didn't get to cook it properly because you lot were rushing me."

Marcille crosses her arms, considering her options. Well, not like she had any other choice. "Fine... do what you can, please."

Senshi nodded before reaching to his toolbelt and pulling out a ladle. "Here you go," he said and got to work to gather what he needed. Marcille then took to gathering water from the nearby well. "This should be enough," she said to herself, looking at the bucket of water full to the brim. "Maybe a bit overkill.."

She started to waddle back to Y/N's room, doing everything she could to not spill the water.

"I'm back!" she said, plopping the bucket down before letting out a "phew!" and wiping her brow.

Y/N looked over, her face extremely pale.

"Oh dear.." Marcille said, rushing over. "Did you..?"

Y/N nodded a little before glancing over at the corner of the room where there was some vomit. Marcille crinkled her nose, grosses out before looking back down at Y/N, who had let out a whimper.

"I'm sorry I'm gross right now.."

"No, no! It's not your fault. Don't apologize!"

Marcille reached over to rub Y/N's eyes, hoping to wipe any tears away, Y/N leaning into her touch, causing Marcille's heart to flutter. Just a little.

"Well, uhm... I brought you some water. Senshi says you can drink a little at a time.

Y/N nodded and forced herself to sit up with a pained groan. Marcille grabbed the water bucket, lifting the ladle to Y/N's lips.

She hesitated, at first, before softly sipping, coughing a few times and after around 5 sips, Marcille decided that should be enough for now.

"Thank you, Marcille."

Y/N reached out to pull her into a small hug of thanks, getting a squeak of surprise from Marcille, who stayed frozen in place during the entire embrace. Once Y/N let her go, she lied back down, seeming to feel a little bit better. Y/N sniffled a little bit, still a bit embarrassed about the whole situation. She was embarrassing herself in front of Marcille. She looked awful, and the room smelled awful because of when she threw up, and this whole situation was just awful!

And yet...

Marcille still wanted to take care of her. To make her feel better. Y/N buried her face into her arm, wiping away the tears and ignoring the rumbling in her stomach. Marcille really was amazing.

Marcille stared at her for a moment before scooting away to lean against the wall and watch over her.

She watched as her eyes slowly closed, her lashes long, and beautiful, all of her features beautiful, even with her sickly complexion. Marcille doesn't think she could ever, under any circumstances, find Y/N unattractive. It just didn't seem possible.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open again about 30 minutes later. "Can I have some more water?"

"Ya, of course."

Marcille scooted back over to her to spoon her some water. She didn't cough as much this time, nor groan in pain, so that was hopefully a good sign.

Marcille eventually set the ladle down and checked her own vitals for a moment. Her mana was back, only a little. Enough for one, small spell.

She scooped some water into her hands and quietly muttered a magic chant, a very faint blue glow illuminating her palms. She then turned to Y/N, who was watching with enchanted eyes.

"Um... Here. This water has a weak healing spell. It's all I can manage right now." She brought her hands to Y/N's lips, her looked rather nervous.

"I have to drink from your hands?"

"Ya. Sorry, I know it's not ideal, but-"

"No, no, it's fine." She looked down at the water in Marcille's hands, blushing a little. "Really fine.."

Y/N tilted her head back, feeling Marcille's hands press against her lips. That was all she could really focus on, not the water or the magic coursing through her body now. Nope. Just the skin-to-skin contact. Oh dear, does that make her a pervert?!

She tightly closed her eyes, but quickly opened them when she felt Marcille's hand gently touch her hairline.

"Do you feel any better?"

Y/N was too much in a trance to respond. Wow, she was pretty. Eventually, she managed to squeak out, "Y-Ya. I'm fine. Thank you for that, Marcille."

Marcille smiled at that. She loved being able to help people. Especially Y/N. She loved seeing that shimmer in her eyes.

"Glad to hear it."

The door opened and Senshi stood there, holding up a plate of homemade crackers and toast.

"Are you up to eating anything, Y/N?" he asked with a good-natured smile.

Y/N nodded, and Senshi set the plate in front of her.

"Get to feeling better."

Y/N nodded gratefully and began to nibble lightly on some toast.

"Don't eat too much, mkay?" Marcille said, her voice soft.

Y/N nodded, blushing a tad as she looked down at her food. Crumbs dotted her face. This did still kind of upset her stomach, but not as badly as it would have before. Must be that magic at work.

Marcille leaned her head over to look at Y/N. "You doing good?"

"Ya, thankfully."

"Hm?" Marcille gave her a curious look before her eyes softened a little. She leaned over and used her sleeve to wipe some crumbs from her face.

Y/N's eyes widened, and she could've vomited from sheer panic at that very moment. Her touch was so... gentle!

"It's funny.. usually you're never a messy eater, haha."

"Ya, well.. I'm too ill to worry about proper etiquette."

"Yes, of course, I know."

She paused before saying quietly, "Though, you don't have to act so proper around me..."

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing, haha!"

"Hmm..." Y/N set the cracker she had been eating down. She looked at Marcille, and Marcille looked back.

"What is it, Y/N?"

Y/N hesitated. She should kiss her, right? ...No. She looked ugly, she smelled bad, her breath was awful... These were the definition of the worst situations to kiss someone in.

"Just.. wanted to thank you. For aiding me."

Marcille blinked a couple of times before smiling. "Of course!" She gently took Y/N's hand in her own before gently kissing the top. "I want to make you feel better."

Y/N's eyes turned as wide as saucer's and she froze, the only word she could get out being, "Why?"

"It was just a small healing spell.." Marcille said with a shy smile. "It can only be transferred by the lips."

"A-Ah.. I see.." Y/N paused before smiling at her.

They sat there for a moment before Marcille quickly hoisted herself up with her staff. "Well, I, uh, should let you rest. You get better now, hahahaha!" She slammed into a wall, rubbing her head before laughing again and running out, closing the door with a slam.

"So," Chilchuck said, giving her a knowing look.

"I.. uh.. She... She's fine. She is perfectly fine."

"Are you fine?" Laios asked.

Marcille smiled a little manically before letting out a little chuckle. "Not when she smiles at me like that.. Oh, never when she smiles at me like that."

Divider by @cafekitsune

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Hi! 3 and 7 for the ask, please :)

Sorry it took me a few days to get to this, these are great questions! 3. Which of your fics is most different from what you usually write? This was a hard one for me to answer! I suppose Our Fathers Clad in Red is the first fic I have ever co-written, so even though I do not think it is all that different stylistically or thematically from what I usually write, the process of writing it has been very different, but in a good way. I've learned a lot too-- not to hate outlining for one, and I've learned how having two writers with different but complementary styles can really enhance a piece. @aifsaath is a very talented writer and collaborating on it is so much fun that I would gladly do it again, when a year ago I never would have imagined collaborating on a project in the first place!

7. What's your favorite piece of description or narration? It's probably the second to last scene in Chapter 5 of Our Fathers Clad in Red. The entire scene consists of Aegon alone in bed having a particularly bad morning, and I'm fond of the whole scene, but I'll post the two parts like the best below the cut:

Tears pricked his eyes. Just a nightmare, but for a moment he’d felt as if he were there all over again, on that burning battlefield, the smell of roasting bodies— their own men dying along with Rhaenyra’s loyalists, by which dragon's fire no one could say. Criston Cole had pulled him from the saddle, and this Aegon recalled clearly, for there’d been no poppy milk yet to dull his mind, he’d cursed and had called out, his voice booming across the battlefield, “Your king lives! Protect the king!”

Then there had been pain and choking smoke and a voice murmuring the Mother’s prayer and more voices screaming please oh gods please and get it off him, get it off . There had been a brother’s hand latched to his unburnt hand. “Stay with me,” Aemond had said. Aegon had thought he was dying. He remembered having the wild thought that these were his last moments, and they’d be filled with nothing meaningful, only chaos and burning. There would be no final words, no heartfelt goodbyes, just pain and noise and charred flesh. 

It had taken months for the pain to subside enough for him to manage more than a few moments awake at a time. When he started to be allowed longer periods of awareness, he’d found himself an unrecognizable mass of misshapen flesh, and his skin felt like nothing more than his own funeral shroud. He hadn’t yet then found the will to live. That had come later.

The first few months after that, he’d still wanted to die. He’d stopped begging for it at some point, but every time he’d been woken from the poppy-sleep, he’d prayed that he might not wake again. There had been fevers that would come and go, mild infections. Poppy milk had brought sleep and took away the pain, but it left him groggy and nauseous when it wore off. Food never tasted good, and he wasn’t allowed wine. When he wasn’t sleeping, the pain was constant.

He’d cycled from one misery to the next.  Would that he could say he’d been determined from the start to fight for his children, that he’d thought only of his family, but that would be a lie. At first, there had seemed little reason to live if his life was to be nothing but dream-filled sleep punctuated by hours of agonized awareness.

He clutched the blanket, trying to curl himself into a tighter ball, but his legs would not cooperate. Even the more well healed right leg was stiff from the past week of exertion. He was beyond ashamed to admit that occasionally there were moments when he wondered if it had been worth it, if it was still worth it. He was so tired of it, so sick and tired of living like this. There was not a day when some part of him didn’t hurt. 

Now that he was in the capital once again, holding court, there was the fresh indignity of judgment. Bad enough that his healthy young body was no more, he’d lost his looks too, and his dignity as a man. It was almost too much to bear, the lords asking openly if he could still sire children, the women staring at his scarred face and tittering behind their hands. 

______________________________________________________________

In Aegon’s youth, he’d experienced bouts of melancholy, as his mother had called them. Usually, they happened after a visit with his father, and most often they involved copious amounts of wine. Once he had confined himself to his quarters for nearly a fortnight, sleeping the days away only to wake at night and drink until nearly dawn while scrawling maudlin poetry and composing funerary dirges on his lute. Sing this when I die, he’d write in the margins. Sing this one for father. 

Always, it had been his mother who would eventually force her way in, usually once she realized how long it had been since she’d seen her eldest son. Once, a minor marcher lord had come to court with a trio of beautiful daughters and one equally lovely son. When his mother realized she had not seen him flirting with any of the lord’s children even once, she’d immediately become suspicious and had barged into his room with a troop of maids, directing them to tidy up, and then she’d pulled him from bed, bathed him, clothed him, and fed him as if he were six and not sixteen.

He did not write poetry any longer, or songs. His old lute was in the school room, passed down to the children– Jae hated seeing anyone play it but him, but since Rook’s Rest, he’d not even wanted to try. The last poem he’d written had been an apology to his children and Helaena, for all his failures. He’d left it beside her bed, before he’d flown off to battle. The thought of it made his breath hitch and he pressed his face into his quilts, trying uselessly to staunch the flow of his tears. 

[justcaytlin]

How It's Going

So I figured it would be worthwhile to talk a bit about all the procedures and stuff I've been undergoing. Keep y'all in the loop, as t'were.

Background

To start, the reason I've been in and out of doctors so much lately is that I have fibromyalgia, which means my nervous system thinks every stimulus should be reported with Pain. Are you excited? Pain. Cold? Pain. Tired? Pain. Digesting? Pain! And it's always pain in weird areas. Did you use your wrist too much while you were drawing? Enjoy your left foot hurting, buddy. Or your knee. Or your temple. Quite literally, I did not know that people could be Not In Pain until a conversation with my husband a few years ago.

(Note: Fibromyalgia is not a disease so much as a bucket of symptoms with a variety of causes. One person's fibro may be very different from another's; this is how mine works.)

Generally, after years of hunting down med combos and enforcing lifestyle changes (regular sleep schedule, eating well, maintaining a schedule, etc) I had been sitting at a respectable 4/10 pain scale day-to-day, which is pretty mild all things considered.

Pain is easy to deal with. Unfortunately, fibromyalgia also comes with brainfog, where you can't remember things, and everything slips your mind constantly, and you feel like a sieve and you constantly worry you have early onset dementia. It also comes with chronic fatigue, much like when you have the flu. So you get up to do something and it feels like all of the energy drains out of your muscles and you feel heavy and slow and like you want to lay down just to get enough energy to move again.

As an example, showering has been very hard on me. Usually after a shower -- a quick shower! Or even when using my shower stool! -- I am shaking and weak for up to an hour afterwards.

Reason for Going

In the last six months or so, both the brainfog and the fatigue were getting increasingly bad, so that I could barely do anything at all. I was falling behind on a lot of work-related things, I couldn't help my husband with chores or food prep hardly at all, I couldn't even deal with the energy sap of seeing people very often.

Finally, my friend was going to a research institute nearby for Ketamine-Assisted Psychotherapy. And I thought, man, I've been wanting to try ketamine treatment for years. I've heard it works wonders on chronic pain. I should try it.

So I did a lot of research, and I dove in.

Phase 1

I contacted the institute about their ketamine infusion therapy, which is geared toward chronic pain relief. Ketamine's underlying functions are still not completely understood, but in layman's terms, it seems to give the nervous system a chance to reset and relax, undoing a lot of that sensitivity that makes fibro so hard. This sounded amazing and like it's exactly what I need.

So I went through several intake and screening appointments. I was approved, but both doctors recommended that I was a perfect candidate for KAP -- Ketamine-Assisted Psychotherapy. After all, my fibro is almost guaranteed to have come from trauma: when your flight system is active 24/7 for almost a decade, it makes some fundamental changes to the wiring. Plus, I've been diving deep in therapy for the last couple of years, and it's helped a bit on the pain side as well.

But I wasn't certain the ketamine would work on me -- there's never a guarantee -- so I wanted to stick with what I signed up for, for now.

I went in for my appointment, got the IV in, laid down, and was whisked away into a nice little trip for an hour and a half or so. Sounds smeared together. I felt out of my body, yet in it. Time smeared and collapsed in on itself. I felt disrupted, but gently and kindly, taken away into another timeline. I saw lots of shapes and patterns -- subtly, on the back of the eyelids.

I went home after that, and I rested. And the next day, my pain was reduced. It felt like there was a little bit of a cushion between the pain and my senses. My energy was back! I went from "maybe I can stand long enough to cut up a tomato for dinner, I'm not sure" to "okay I've cleaned two rooms, we should be good for guests now." I wasn't 100% by any means. I still fatigue early in tasks, I still felt pain. But it's like the clock turned back months or even years. Holy shit!

Phase 2

I decided that if I was going to do this, I was going to go all in. Therapy had worked wonders before; I was gonna switch to KAP like they suggested. The doctor also suggested I try a Stellate Ganglion Block, wherein they bathe your nerves with anesthetic, which gives your sympathetic nervous system a *direct* vacation. I signed up for that too.

Unfortunately, switching to KAP meant that I needed to undergo more screenings and intakes. And the Ganglion Block also required more screenings and intakes. So my actual healing journey was put on hold for two weeks as I attended more doctor appointments.

Finally, I was able to do my first KAP appointment. You basically go into an office and get set up in a reclining chair full of blankets and pillows. They give you a special eyemask that is raised, so you can keep your eyes open if you want, but it'll be completely blacked out. You wear headphones with music playing. The doctor/therapist stays in the room with you, and if you happen to say anything during your trip, they record it. But otherwise the purpose is just you laying back and letting the medicine do its work. A nurse comes in and administers the ketamine -- for KAP it's intramuscular injection instead of IV. And then in 2-5 minutes, you'll take off. I think for me it was 1-2 minutes.

Ketamine is weird, man. The main *feeling* I take away each time is that I've jumped timelines. The person I was going in is not the same person coming out. It's always a benign feeling (so far?) but it takes you so completely out of your body, your self. Who you are dissolves for a while. It's wild. There's a big chunk of time I don't remember, and then I remember wondering who I was, what I was, what I was doing, where I was. Not fearfully, just, "huh, I should probably know this, huh". Then there was a lot of beautiful imagery of dancing in nature, vibing to the music, twirling in leaves and on lakes. Lots of imagery that is, like, hand-picked to be something I'd paint from scratch. There was some spiritual stuff too, but that's personal.

After a while, I was a tree. I had this feeling that even though part of me had rotted (the good kind of rot, somehow), I was providing lots of ecosystems for others. There was this overwhelming feeling of even though there may not be a reason for something (having fibro), we can still find meaning in it. That was valuable.

The other feeling that's still echoing through me right now is the feeling of being a seed. Like, I'm currently in incubation. There's a transformation coming but right now I'm storing all of my energy and taking in the change.

As I started coming out of it, there were two amusing things.

I could still feel parts of my body as being a tree. I was fully cognizant at this point that I was me, on ketamine, in a doctor's chair, but I was waiting out the rest of my body feeling like My Body again. Like, okay, my body ends at the elbow there, but the rest is branches. Better wait til I feel my fingers again.

I was wondering what I was supposed to do when I came around? We hadn't discussed this. Do I say something? Do I pull off my mask? Do I make a grand announcement? What if I just lay here for hours and avoid this confrontation entirely? What if I was under way longer than anyone else? #social anxiety lol What I ultimately did was I listened to the music and visualized things until it felt like the "soundtrack" was winding down and I could pick out a "credits" song. When the credits song ended, I made myself pull off my mask, and the doctor greeted me.

(One good thing about therapy, medication, and experience with social anxiety is you can feel those thoughts, but also go 'bro it'll be fine lol' and your system largely believes you.)

Anyway, after, the doctor asked me some questions about how I was feeling, what I saw or felt or experienced, etc. She took notes, then let me lay there alone for about twenty minutes to come more fully back to myself. Then she helped me waddle to the bathroom (ketamine messes with your inner ear like crazy) and took me downstairs to meet up with my friend for the ride home.

A week later, I had another appointment with the doctor to integrate everything, talk about everything I experienced or said in the sober light of day.

Phase 3

After that, I got the first Stellate Ganglion Block done. It's done in two phases, your right side and your left side. I wrote about this experience already, but I will say now, a week out from it, that this was a fucking miracle. The KAP and the IV helped a lot with energy and such but the block took my ambient pain from like a 3 to a 1-2. I genuinely wonder if this is what normal people feel like most of the time?

I can tell there's a difference between my right side (that had it done) and the left side (which hasn't been done yet). The left is far more sensitive. But, for example, my sciatic nerves are extremely sensitive to the touch, and generally if I press on them a little bit, I will legit want to cry. (I have very high pain tolerance; i would call pushing on them like an 8.5 on the scale, where 10 is when I was at the hospital for a kidney stone, screaming and crying and thrashing while I was waiting for pain meds :') )

They still hurt, but my right one is more like a 6 instead! That's HUGE. That means I can actually tolerate it long enough to roll out my nerve with the foam roller.

I'm getting my second block done tomorrow. I can't wait to see how it feels after.

Phase 4

After this week, my appointments should slow down a lot. My KAP appointments are two weeks apart, to give ample time to reflect and integrate and let my malleable brain resolidify. The downside is this is slower than I expected -- I thought it would be 1 a week -- and so I'm not positive I'll be back off hiatus on my birthday. It depends on how the next week or so goes.

Right now, I've just been hanging onto the bumper of a car speeding down Appointments Highway and I have barely had time to gather my energy enough to think about much else (besides D&D apparently lmao). By the time I'm done with KAP I will have knocked out some 20 appointments or so in a month and a half. Considering in the past I had to restrict doc appointments to 1/week due to how exhausting and hard they are for me, That Is A Lot.

But they're doing me some good. I'm incubating. I'm percolating. And soon I will sprout.

[southlandghost]

Day by the Pool

“Look, Harlow, here comes trouble.”

Harlow looked up after hearing Cooper’s words, confused for a moment; she smiled, though, when she saw who was coming into the back yard. 

A heavily pregnant Marcy walked out of the back door, a tote bag slung on her shoulder and Martin holding onto her hand, toddling beside her. Behind them followed Norm, who carried Martin’s pool float and a bottle of sunscreen. 

“I’m free!” Marcy exclaimed as she reached the poolside where her sister lay. “As of today, I am officially on maternity leave!”

“About time.” Cooper remarked from the pool, where he swam with Janey and Evie, who was in her own little pool float. “You look like you swallowed a watermelon seed. What about you, Norm? They let you off?”

“Kind of; I’m still working from home at the moment. That’s just until they induce her next week, though.” The younger man replied, absentmindedly taking Marcy’s hand as she sat down on one of the lounge chair. 

As he and Cooper continued chatting, Marcy lifted Martin and sat him beside her on the chair. “I can’t believe he’s walking, Harls. He took a bit longer than Evie, but damn… When I tell you I’ve chased him all over the house this morning, I mean it.”

“Don’t I know it.” Harlow sighed, pushing her sunglasses up and squinting. “Evie decided to play in Roosevelt’s food bowl this morning, so I had to give her a bath to get the dog food smell off of her at 7:30.”

“I know it’s a little bad to say,” Marcy lowered her voice. “But I hope and pray this baby is calmer than Martin. I was lucky and didn’t get sick this time around, but part of me is convinced it’s because this one is going to be even wilder.”

“I just wonder where he got it from.” The dark haired woman laughed. “I don’t know how you were as a kid, but I don’t see Norm as the type of kid who terrorized everyone.”

“Maybe having two mild-mannered parents makes it cancel out.” Marcy turned to her husband. “Norman, dear, hand me the sunscreen. And tell me and Harlow this: were you a good kid or a little hellion while you were growing up?”

Norm handed her the bottle, furrowing his eyebrows a bit. “I was good. Don’t try to pin Martin’s behavior on me; I blame the Schedler genetics.”

Marcy met Harlow’s eyes before they both burst out laughing, earning a laugh and some clapping from Martin, as well. Once he had gotten sunscreen on, Norm took him into the pool with Cooper and Evie.

Marcy sighed and rested her hands on her belly, smiling as she watched her husband and son. She still couldn’t believe she was a wife and mother. She remembered that just a few years ago, she scoffed at the idea of settling down and starting a family. When she looked back on her younger self, though, she realized just how hurt she had been and shuddered while thinking of what she would do to try and ease the pain she was going through at home. Moving in with Harlow quite literally saved her life.

“Are you scared?” Harlow’s voice shook her from her thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Are you scared? About the induction?”

“Oh. Not really? I guess? I don’t know. I’m kind of glad I’m being induced.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m glad the doctors will be more on top of things this time around. When I had Martin, I should have had a C-Section, but couldn’t have one because he was already in the birth canal. That’s why he had a cone-head.” Marcy laughed a bit, but cringed internally at the memory of the absolute trainwreck that was her first birth. “They said that if I go into labor before the induction, they want me to come in and they’ll go ahead and get me prepped for surgery. I’m getting my tubes tied after this, though. Two is enough for me.”

They were silent for a moment before Harlow spoke up again. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there the first time around.”

“It’s okay,” Marcy smiled back. She reached over and took Harlow’s hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. “You’re here now.”

They sat in silence for a while, watching the kids and listening to their husbands talk about movies. Finally, Marcy sat up and reached over toward her sister again. “Help me up, I’m gonna swim for a bit. Let me relish in my last days of being an incubator.”

“Okay, Mama Hen, whatever you say.”

With that, she stood and helped her little sister stand, too, and laughed as Marcy bumped her with her stomach. “I kind of miss it, Marcy.”

“Pregnancy?”

“Yeah, in a weird way.”

“I know what you mean.” They walked over to the pool steps so Marcy could get in safely. “Do you think you’ll have another?”

“I dunno. Ask Cooper.” Harlow meant it as a joke, but a look of shocked horror spread on her face when her sister began to yell.

“Hey, Coop! You and Harls gonna give this baby a cousin to play with?”

“HELL NO!”

[thekembayau]

Planning Away From Hypertension

Within these 3 weeks, I planned not to eat much and control everything that I consumed. It is not about being slim, but just reducing weight slowly. The most important thing is that I control whatever is causing me to suffer from hypertension.

A few weeks ago, I suffered a severe headache and went to the clinic the next day. I told the doctor that I couldn't hold the pain and thought that I was attacked by hypertension, as my blood pressure never went back to normal.

So when checked, yes, it was considered mild hypertension. So the doctor said she'll give me a low-dose medicine to help control the blood pressure and will see me again in two weeks to see the progress.

Even though I started to take medicine, I don't want to depend on it. I need to change my habit. Usually I eat late night, oily, and large quantity. And now, I need to change that habit. I believe that eating so much is causing me to suffer from hypertension and perhaps uncontrolled bad cholesterol and sodium levels in the body.

Other than that, exercises also help burn more calories, which can cause obesity. I know that I am now at the level of obesity.

It has been nine days since I controlled consuming meals. I ate half or hard-boiled eggs, consumed albumen, and some other foods in very low quantities. To make sure that I get enough calories for my daily intake, I consume special milk, so I also get enough nutrients.

I hope that I will never give up after this. I need to make sure that my health is in good condition, as I'm still in my early 30s.

[rosetyler42]

I normally wouldn't add anything since I'm not a jew, but since I went through my own mental health crisis earlier this year with health issues and the anon did ask for advice, I thought I might add some small general anxiety and depression things that helped me.

One thing that might help is, if possible, taking a technology break, or at least a social media break. For example, I kept looking up my symptoms every chance I got to an obsessive point and getting caught in doom googling loops and have been told repeatedly NOT to do that as it can make things worse. So I rarely look up anything medical related anymore. Now, this might be harder to avoid, with how pervasive it is, but it might help to take a break from things like the news, social media, etc until you're in a better mental place.

Curating your online space might also be a good idea. I know in this day and age esoecially online there's the thought we gotta be paying attention and activating for everything all the time or we don't care amd blocking is only for terrible sins but if it's bothering your mental health to the point you can't enjoy things, hit da bricks.

It may also help to do things to keep your mind off what's bothering you and get endorphins going. It won't stop these thoughts completely, but it might give your brain a chance to come down out of the doom spirals anxiety and depression can get us stuck in. Going for a walk or doing mild housework might help. Nothing else, you get a change of scenery which can help, and look after yourself too. As could doing relaxing things like listening to music, playing games, watching movies you like, or doing hobbies like drawing. It also gives you a nice sense if accomplishment which can help mentally, even if it has nothing to do with your actual worries.

Talking to people like you have done helps too. There may be people in real life you can reach out to that might be able to give advice or let you vent. Just having personal connection at a time like this can do wonders, and help put things into perspective. Knowing you're not alone, having some empathy or having someone else objectively tell us if what we think is true or not can sometimes really help. There may be some jewish support groups in your area or even just friends and family who might be able to help here.

As hard as it is, try to make sure you take care of yourself as much as possible. Not eating, sleeping, or drinking enough makes things worse all around. Plus, some foods can help mood, like bananas, candy, or comfort food. Anything that can give you some dopamine or serotonin should help.

Avoid caffeine if possible, especially like tea, coffee, and soda. Unfortunately those are likely to make stress and anxiety (and the accompanying symptoms) worse. Wait till you're in a better mental state. Chocolate may help, though, and it doesn't really have much caffeine in it.

This may come off as "Too depressed to get out of bed? Exercise!" Or "Keep your mouth shut." And I know alot of this is societal and not the same as what I went through at all. I know I can't really give specific advice, but having been in a bad place mentally myself only a few months ago, I just wanted to try and help another person struggling and say I feel for you and hope you feel better soon. What yall are going through is terrible and I know Anxiety and stress can REALLY mess you up. I hope this isn't insensitive to say, but you'll be in my thoughts and prayers, anon.

Again, I do hope things get better for you mentally.

Please give me advice. I need help. October 7th and beyond has ruined my mental health.

I'm an Asian Jew and I couldn't be happy watching the Emmys. For those who don't know, Shogun made so much history. I want to be happy. I really do. It's HUGE.

I can't be happy. I'm aware of the tension. Two amazing Jews hosted but I felt it. I'm suddenly aware of everything. I'm immediately looking for the Jews. I'm aware that a lot of the people in that room are antisemitic. My anxiety and stress are off the charts.

I'm happy for the diversity and yet all I can think about is how things like diversity don't include Jews or think about us. I'm too aware of how invisible we are. And yet when we're visible it's too dangerous for us so we can never win. October 7th cemented the fact that these things like diversity aren't genuinely cared about. Because how can you claim to want diversity and equality and rights for minorites and hate Jews? Can someone explain?

An actor pointed out how diverse the Emmys are now. I feel nothing. The Covid pandemic brought a trend where everyone wants to fight oppression and support the oppressed. It was that same trend that has come to hurt us in every way. Everything feels fake to me now. This diversity can't mean anything to me when Jews are constantly being harassed, targetted, killed and hurt and these so called activists cheer.

How am I supposed to feel when the crowd that says "stop calling rape victims and women liars" don't believe Jewish women were raped on October 7th? In the eyes of activists, the people who are supposed to care about human rights and support diversity, we are liars who lie about everything especially rape and antisemitism.

I will slowly accept the fact that yes diversity is happening regardless of everything else and yes even the littlest change is still change and progress is always slow and painful. But I don't think I can ever accept how diversity excludes us. How social justice excluses us. How the left excludes us. How the world excludes us. I won't ever accept it.

To anon and everybody else struggling with their mental health:

We previously posted some mental health resources here. While therapy and psychiatric medication may not be accessible to everyone who needs them because of financial concerns, the support groups mentioned in the post are free, virtual, and available both to Jews and to people who are close enough to the Jewish community to be affected by the current situation.

[odetojeons]

Until It Feels Like You’re In Heaven — Jeon Wonwoo

request:  Hello do you still take requests? Your writing is amazingggg!! Thank you for existing 😭💕. Can i req a whipped dom!wonwoo x fem reader where he has a size kink and a smol gf please? I think that will be a cute concept 🥺

tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!wonwoo, size kink, tattoed and pierced jeon wonwoo just because, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (uh idk why but I never write sex with a condom help), established wonwoo x reader, a tiiiny bit of spitting kink, very light verbal humiliation, aftercare, this goes from fluff to horny really quickly, fluff if you squint (or not?), a frankly unrealistic amount of cum, OH AND, stomach bulge 🥴

a/n: so haha I am back? with more filth? I tried adding fluff (even tho I completely forgot that the person who made the request asked for whipped wonwoo, good thing this is always in my agenda every time I write so I didn't have any problems lmfao) but I'm too much of a horny bitch and a simp for this man so,, idk? tell me what you think later! I hope you all perish— I mean, like this!

Word Count: 7826

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Aren’t you going to help?” you question, lifting a brow at your boyfriend, who’s currently sitting in one of the chairs and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand, plate of onions that should be already cut laying untouched in front of him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Nope,” Wonwoo answers, giving you that kind of smile which makes you almost, almost feel less annoyed at the fact that you’ve been trying to reach something in the upper shelves for the last five minutes and he doesn’t move his ass to help you at all. “You’re just too cute trying to reach something.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s heat creeping up your neck, cheeks tinting red, and Wonwoo's smile gets bigger, shining and full of fondness. It leaves you stunned in silence for a while. It’s hard not to be in love with him. But it’s not like you try anyways.

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“J-just hurry up, aren’t you hungry?” you cough, looking away solely because you can’t stand the warmness in Wonwoo’s face without feeling like you’re going to combust any time soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I am. I can help you out,” he states simply, but doesn’t make a move. You gesticulate with your hand, pointing at him and at the rice jar in the upper shelf. “But only if you say please, though.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m—” laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Would you please get the rice jar for me, sir?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ 

Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long, eyes a bit dark, and gets up to get the jar, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively make yourself smaller when his bigger and broader frame hovers over you, large enough to swallow your tiny body. The size difference has always been something you both feel incredibly turned on by.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So small,” he appreciates, always does, and your neck burns from the intensity of your blushing. “The cutest.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo puts the rice jar in your hands, the darkness in his face melting into a beam.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Here it goes, little girl,” he says, going back to his chair to complete the task which he has been doing for at least ten minutes now. The way he says little girl has you dumbfounded, heart hammering against your chest. “Are you just going to stand there? Do you like being called little that much?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you admonish, blushing furiously as you turn on your back to continue what you were doing.  You just hate how everything Wonwoo does affects you so much. You’re sure this must be bad for your health.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The two of you continue your journey through cooking and eating after you’re both done with the preparations. Things with Wonwoo are always so easy, everything feels natural and domestic and the bubbling feeling of happiness you feel whenever you’re with him lulls you to fall in love with him even deeper than before.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The way he teases you when you’re clumsy and spill sauce over yourself, but still cleans you up with the most fond smile ever, like you’re so completely adorable he can’t help himself. Or when you put more salt in the food than you should and you know it’s not that good, but he still compliments it and tells you he loves it so much, the sincerity in his eyes makes a surge of something pull at your lower stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

If Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the love of your life, you don’t know who is.

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 ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But right now you just want the ground to eat you alive and swallow you whole, because you’re standing right in front of the bed. The one bed. To which it suddenly doesn’t look big enough, not as you remember.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀

Well, it’s not like you have never shared a bed before, you have even had a shit ton of sex in this exact piece of mattress, but the thing is, it’s been a while since you last saw Wonwoo. His job required him to spend three months away, and this is the first time you came to his house ever since he came back two days ago.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You consider throwing yourself out of the window and into the dark, miserable night, thinks your poor heart will explode otherwise.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀

“I’m not going to eat you.” Wonwoo’s voice carries over from the bathroom door, startling you into action. You jerk toward the bed, jumping on it and face flushing. You had showered before him, now dressed with one of his big shirts.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It fell all the way to your mid thigh, the size difference between the two of you making you almost drown on the fabric of his clothes. It smells nice, smells like Wonwoo, and your cheeks burn when he drinks the sight of you in with dark eyes, not even trying to hide.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Unless you want me to,” he adds, not helping your situation at all.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  

BSHANDJAJSND?, your brain supplies.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Oh my god,” you admonish, yanking the blanket off the bed and just as you get in, your eyes hone in on the ink swirling up Wonwoo’s right biceps. You have seen the tattoo through the pictures he sent you before, the snake crawling up to his shoulder, head stopping at his right chest.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This is, however, the first time you’ve seen the metal bar through one of Wonwoo’s nipples — to which you already knew the existence of, but looking in person is totally different —, heat winding in the pit of your belly as you realize the snake is looking right at that same nipple. Unfortunately for your poor heart, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, hanging low on his hips, slim waist on display.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is… hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s no other way to put it despite your best efforts. He looks like one of those Greek statues, rippling muscle and hand carved abs, the cut of his jaw too sharp to be real. Your mouth waters and you can’t look away.

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And Wonwoo has been changing. He always had the thin type of body, being slim and tall, but in the end of last year he started exchanging the lazy hours he spent gaming with animated workouts at the gym — something about the way he was wasting his precious time of life and he could be acquiring knowledge and being healthy instead of sitting in front of a computer for hours —, and holy fuck if the result wasn’t quite the damn view.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You draw the blanket right up to your chin, back very purposefully to Wonwoo’s side of the bed as you’re still trying to stop the mild heart attack you have going on. You don’t want to see him climbing into bed for safety purposes but that doesn’t mean your heart rate doesn’t spike up when the bed dips. When Wonwoo settles down under the same blanket, your brain very enthusiastically — and meaningfully — points out that you’re only a few centimeters away and that there’s nothing separating you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

His abs flash behind your eyes and you nearly throw the blanket off, ready to storm out of the room and sleep on the sofa instead. You let out a breath you don’t even know you’re holding when Wonwoo flicks the flight off, the room disappearing into darkness, before he turns on the red leds from under his bed.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You feel warm all over with the fact that he still remembers you don’t like sleeping in complete darkness.

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You try not to tense too much when he drapes an arm around your waist, locking you in. Your legs tangle together as he adjusts himself better, the other arm coming behind your head to serve as a pillow. Now you’re not only dying from the closeness but as well essentially drooling over the bulge of his thick biceps.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Congratulations universe for managing to make you even more desperate.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure how long you just lie there, staring out the window, unable to fall asleep. Your brain doesn’t want to shut off, a blaring alarm of Jeon Wonwoo going off in your head.

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“I missed you so much,” Wonwoo says as if he read your thoughts, voice soft and filled with warmth, and you find yourself immediately melting in his arms despite your nervousness. “Thought I was going crazy without you, munchkin.”

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There’s a hard squeeze in your heart. You just love so much when he calls you that.

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“Missed you too,” you admit with a smile, the tip of Wonwoo’s nose dragging through your hair as he inhales the smell of his own shampoo. “Missed your smell.”

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“Just my smell?” Wonwoo teases with a light tone, caressing his free hand on your inner thigh. It was supposed to be a feather-like gesture, but the closeness between the two of you made your body oversensitive, and you find yourself moaning softly as your skin rocks with a shiver.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo tenses immediately when he hears the sound, hand stuttering to a stop. There’s a beat of what you call the most painful silence you ever had — your mind swirls with the thought that you just ruined the mood, face heating up uncontrollably at your own neediness —, before his fingers sink into the flesh of your inner thigh, startling you with the strength behind his grip.

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“Answer me.”

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You whine louder this time, the realization of his change of tone going from fond to an irrevocable order sinking wanton deep within your lower stomach. You try to close your legs, but Wonwoo’s leg stops you where it rests right in the middle of them, dangerously close to your throbbing core. You wonder if he could feel the heat emanating from it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“N-no,” you begin, voice already shaken up. Wonwoo’s breath caresses the helix of your ear, making goosebumps surge all over your skin. “Missed y-your bed too.”

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“Is that so?” he hums, chest vibrating where it presses against your back. “What else, munchkin?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Missed—” your voice gets caught up in your throat when he licks your helix, teeth pulling the lobe of your ear. The soft drag of his lips all over that place is making your job difficult. “M-missed all of you, hmmm.”

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Wonwoo hums again, pleased with your answer, and leans so close to you your body gets half pinned to the bed. This way his bigger frame completely engulfs your smaller one, the difference between your sizes getting even more overwhelming now that he’s bulked up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And you’re not the only one affected by it, because as soon as Wonwoo realizes how he almost swallows you up in this position, he downright moans right by your ear.

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“So fucking small,” he tells you appreciatevely, voice one octave lower as his fingers presses on your inner thigh harder. “Missed touching you.”

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There’s a shift in Wonwoo, his leg rising up between yours and stopping centimeters away from the heat of your cunt, and you can’t hold back the shiver, wants Wonwoo to press down there. When you attempt to slide Wonwoo’s hand up and off of you so then you could turn around, you’re met with a growl instead, Wonwoo bodily pinning you to the bed.

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“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and it makes you feel like you’re a prey just ready to be caught by the big, bad wolf. You whine softly at that thought, hand coming to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist reflexively.

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“Wonwoo,” is your answer, like that would explain everything. Wonwoo chuckles softly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

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“When we called and I saw your face,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to fuck you so bad.”

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Suddenly, you can’t remember how to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth on your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear. He nuzzles into the same spot, kisses lower and your heart shakes loud enough you think the neighbors might hear, hyperaware of every inch of your bodies touching.

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“I know I couldn’t, so I did it all from behind,” Wonwoo admits, sending your mind into a little haze. Of course he has been jerking off to the thought of you, but hearing him say it out loud has your panties getting soaked. “Sticking my dick in…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo hasn’t stopped nuzzling you, in some kind of daze as he inhales your scent. There’s a hand on your hip now, holding you down, liquid heat pooling in your belly, spreading outward.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“…and fucking you mercilessly…” he continues, voice getting deeper and rougher with each word, his breath labored. “…and watching you cum endlessly… I thought I would be fine just imagining it.”

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“W-Won—” you start, breathless, the sound of your own voice sounding so airy leaving you embarrassed. But then finally, finally he presses his thigh into your core, your hips immediately going down to rut hard against the muscle.

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“Fucking drenched,” Wonwoo snarls lowly when he feels the wetness of your soaked panties dirtying the fabric of his sweatpants.

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The sound makes you writhe on the bed, fists balling in the mattress.

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“But seeing you, so small…” the trace of Wonwoo’s hand in your skin is light, almost like a gentle whisper as it makes a burning path up, up, up until it stops by your neck, fingers closing softly around your throat. “Makes me want to rail you, carve the shape of my big cock inside your walls.”

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Wonwoo’s teeth sink into the skin just at the base of your neck. It’s hardly a bite, you know he could leave worse, but then Wonwoo laps at it afterwards, tender, surrenders you into moving your hips obscenely on his thigh. The way he says, knows his cock is big has heat licking your insides, and if it were anyone else saying the same thing you would be cringed, but there’s just something special about Jeon Wonwoo doing this that makes him look like the hottest man alive.

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“You’re addicting,” Wonwoo admits with a growl, the feeling of his touch turning possessive as he helps you ride his thigh better by a hand on your waist. “Once I get a taste I can’t stop myself from wanting more. Wanna have my way with you until you’re all mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Need seeps through your bones, body trembling as you try to scatter the air it has been knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo fits his cock in the curve of your ass.

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“Y-you’re hard,” you comment, as if it’s not obvious, but it has been so long since the last time you felt his bulge pressing against you that it makes you desperate. “You’re so hard.”

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“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Wonwoo questions, groaning when you sway your hips from side to side on his cock.

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“Can we…” you trail off, hiding your face in the pillow. “Y-you know?”

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“Nope, you gotta be more specific,” he says with a teasing smile, and you smack him in the arm. Wonwoo laughs before his voice gets serious. “Say it.”

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This switch of him turning on and off between a sweet boyfriend to the man who doms you never fails to give you a whiplash.

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“Can we— Can w-we fuck?” you ask shyly, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You have no idea why you are being this shy.

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“Hmm, it depends,” Wonwoo hums like he’s considering the options. You turn to look at him, mortified, but he only laughs at your indignation. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

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You blush furiously at the question, face turning to look away as you mumble a yes, but then Wonwoo’s grabbing at your jaw and yanking your head back in place until you’re staring right in the deepness of his eyes, the intensity of them stunting you into complete silence.

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“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders, leaving no room for arguments, and you nod your head quickly at that. “Out loud.”

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“Y-yes,” you hurry to obey, watching satisfaction curl all over his face. “‘M always a good girl.”

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“I don’t think so, munchkin,” Wonwoo grins, wicked and teasing, and you brace yourself for whatever is going to happen this night. “Sometimes you’re so desperate and impatient you can’t even wait for me before fucking yourself with those plastic toys of yours.”

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“Wonwoo,” and you’re unable to look away even when shame burns all over your body. “H-how did you—”

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“How did I know?” your sentence morphs into a moan when Wonwoo presses his thigh so hard against you cunt it has your body jumping a little. “You think I wouldn’t feel how you’re more loose when I fucked you? You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”

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Wonwoo is mercilessly dragging your hips up and down his leg, your whines sounding high and sweet in your own ears.

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“You’re oblivious even to yourself,” he tells you, tone rough as he ruts against your ass. Your heart lurches in your chest, Wonwoo’s words like a hot coal in the pit of your belly, erupting into flames. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, cunt pulsing with arousal. “Even today, the way you were staring at me…”

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But then, Wonwoo’s touch is gone. His hands leave your hips, thigh frees you from the pressure, and the warmth seems so far now. You turn, complaint already at the tip of your tongue, but Wonwoo’s faster, rougher as he manhandles you on your back and hovers over your body, caging you in with his arms.

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“You looked like a prey who has just been caught into the wolf’s den,” he smiles at you, wicked and cruel as he grabs your jaw and pushes your head back. “Like you wanted me to break you in until it feels like you’re in heaven.”

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There’s a breath against your bare neck, his groan hitting your skin when he bites it.

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“Or eat you up until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t belong to me,” you’re definitely not expecting the moan that escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, so affected and deep it’s got all the hairs in your nape standing up, every fiber of your body telling you to submit. “Fuck, and it turns me on so much.”

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You make a sound out of neediness, hands reaching for Wonwoo. He goes easily, body pressing into yours as he crashes your lips together. Wonwoo kisses you like he wants to conquer you, licking into the seam of your mouth and teeth scraping at your bottom lip just so he could soothe the pain later with his tongue. Your head spins with the intensity of it, it’s messy and there’s too much spit and teeth, but that only makes it even more addicting.

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But Wonwoo doesn’t kiss you enough today. He almost never does when he’s feeling like that — possessive, mean, wicked even, when he needs you to know your damn place —, wants to ebb the pleasure away when you’re starting to get hotter until it’s replaced by pure desperation and you can’t do anything else other than beg for him to give in to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

So that’s what you do, staring up at his eyes trained on you as if you’re a prey.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please,” you start, voice caught into a moan when Wonwoo’s fingers sink into your jaw and his mouth falls ajar, like the sound of you saying this particular word gives a physical stroke to his cock. “P-please, fuck me. Wanna— Wanna belong t-to you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And that’s enough. That’s enough, that’s enough, Wonwoo wants, you want, and he’ll give that to you since he has always been a weak man for your begging. There’s a fraction of seconds that he thinks he might pass out with all the blood rushing from his head to his other head, cock throbbing in his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Don’t know how so much eagerness fits into this little body of yours,” Wonwoo murmurs against your mouth, his hand squeezing your face. You find yourself parting your mouth open, whining, pliant and overwhelmed as Wonwoo slips his tongue in again, kissing you filthy. The scent of his familiar cologne is so sharp, surrounding you and leaving your mind dazed until all you can think is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. When he pulls back this time, Wonwoo pushes his thumb into your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watches you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it further into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan around it, watching Wonwoo’s every reaction, the way his breath hitches, shoulders tensing. There’s a shift on the bed, Wonwoo moving up and up and up and you can’t breathe because now the bulge pressing against the fabric of his clothes is standing proudly right in front of your face, Wonwoo almost straddling your chest. You let the realization that he’s going to fuck your mouth sink deep within your core, and try not to show how deeply affected you are by the idea.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You fail, of course, hips lifting off of the bed and falling down again, biting around the finger inside of your mouth that keeps you from taking a better look in the place you are dying to see.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“That desperate to suck me off, baby?” Wonwoo asks, and you flush, hate how you love the humiliated burn, how it makes you wetter. You’re too embarrassed to throw something back at Wonwoo, gaze dropping to his erect cock the best you can. He pushes your head back up, making you look at him instead. “Do you wanna see it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I do,” you reply, a little too fast for your own good, and it only serves for Wonwoo to laugh at your neediness. You debate if you’re as red as you think you are, the burn in your cheeks spreading all the way down to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Wonwoo’s tone is almost condescending, still playful, like he doesn’t think you can even handle the sight of his cock, and you like how it makes your cunt twitch and ache. It’s as if you enjoy the belittlement, enjoy the way Wonwoo wants you to prove yourself.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m,” you start, swallowing, “I’m ready.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s smile is a touch dark, nearly a sneer, but his hand leaves your mouth to hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants. You nearly drool. He pulls on the fabric until his cock is free, slapping against your left cheek and smearing precum on your face. Your head spins, realising that even this part of Wonwoo’s body seemed to have grown bigger. Maybe it’s your imagination, haven’t actually seen it in real life for the past three months, but the thickness is intimidating.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The best intimidating possible.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your heart thuds in your chest, unable to look away from his cock. There’s spit collecting on your tongue, embarrassment fighting against your desire to please. Leaning forward, you suckle the tip into your mouth, making a pleased sound when you taste the salty tang of precum.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo leans back a bit, wanting to assess your face better, and the taut lines of his body contorts in an even hotter way with the new position. You moan again, staring at the piercing in Wonwoo’s nipple and the head of the inked snake looking at it, and sucks on the head, tongue pushing along the underside. Your body throbs with your own heated desire.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wrap a hand around the base, gut twisting hotly when you realise you can’t even get your fingers all the way around — no matter how many times you notice this, they all make you feel equally needy. And you’re not the only one affected by it, Wonwoo’s hips kicking forward and cock thrusting inside of your mouth, the growl he lets out going straight to your core.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” he says, breath audible enough to echo inside the room. “I will ruin you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The confession has your body arching for a few seconds, sucking hard on the tip of Wonwoo’s cock until he’s moaning at the feeling. He takes a fistful of your hair, but you push against the hold so you could take more of it into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Quit it,” Wonwoo demands, your displeased whine making his hold grow firmer. “Do as you’re told or you might not get my cock at all tonight.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He pulls you off, your pants loud and labored.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did I make myself clear?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes, sir,” you add just for the teasing — but mostly because you want Wonwoo to punish you for making him lose his beloved control —, feeling pleased as you watch the clear change of expressions going on in Wonwoo’s face. His eyes darken impossibly more, eyebrows frowning and then there’s a hand on your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your mouth goes dry as soon as his fingers close around your throat, body writhing and mind going into submission mode.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Filthy little slut,” Wonwoo snarls, face suddenly close, and then he’s spitting into your open mouth and you feel like you will come very soon. You flinch, eyes shutting on reflex, and then moan. “Want me to punish you, don’t you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t say anything, can’t say anything, but you hope the look in your eyes answers his question. It probably does, because there’s a tiny little smirk playing on the edge of Wonwoo’s lips before he kisses you, softer than you could ever imagine he would be in this moment.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” he breathes, the sudden confession making a different kind of burn itch your throat. You know very well that when Wonwoo tells you that I’m the middle of sex then it’s because this will be a passionate fucking. One of those that he keeps your body so close you think you might become one with him, one of those he kisses you so gently one moment only to treat you roughly in the other, one of those he wants to make you fall apart, crumble and cry and even so, it will be full of love and care and sweetness. “I love you so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t need to, he knows your heart belongs to him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say ah for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo instructs and you obey, mouth hanging open, tongue out. Wonwoo slaps his cock against it, precum dirtying your tongue as the slap slap slap of his cock hitting your mouth fills the heavy air of the room. He even traces the tip over your upper lip, smearing precum along your cheek when he slaps your face with it before placing his cock right back on your waiting tongue. “Put this mouth to better use.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You do, eager to do as you’re told after Wonwoo’s confession, blood singing from his praise and his disparagement alike. You sink down onto it as far as you can take it, nearly gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Wonwoo drowns out a broken “fuck” above you, stroking your cheek and moving further in the bed to lessen the awkward twist of your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” Wonwoo breathes, voice strained as you suck him off, head bobbing. He brushes your hair back, little groans and growls escaping him every time his cock hits the back of your throat, you swallowing around it, or when you speed up, fucking your mouth on Wonwoo’s length. “Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush, heart hammering in your chest with the compliment, but he closes a fist in your hair and makes you stop all movements.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” Wonwoo starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. You know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. “until you gag.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan a bit uncontrollably around his cock, legs kicking in the bed at the affirmation, and Wonwoo is staring at you with a look you can’t quite describe. It makes you ashamed of being so eager but at the same time proud of being his little cockslut.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo holds you in place, hips bucking into your mouth. He goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling because it has been a while since the last time you sucked him off. It is short lived, as soon as you look up at him and nod — the best you could with your movements being kind of restricted —, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had Wonwoo’s fat cock in your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan, one of your hands still working up and down along Wonwoo’s shaft as he fucks into you, tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes. He falls a bit forward when you start gagging a little, throat convulsing around his thickness, and he sprawls his fingers in the wall for support.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck fuck fuck, shit,” Wonwoo breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. Tingles spark down your spine, wetness pouring out of you and soaking your panties even more and you want so desperately to come, to be fucked, but you want to please him first.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and then he’s pulling away. You look at him, mind in a haze, but still dumbfounded. His breath is labored and he looks like he’s having a hard time keeping together, hips thrusting into the air. It boosts your ego to see him this messed up because of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did so well for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. It seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. At the look you’re giving him, he adds: “Wanna cum with you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. Wonwoo caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. His fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by Wonwoo’s greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And then Wonwoo’s sucking. Hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It caughts you off guard, hips lifting off of the bed and thigh pressing tightly against Wonwoo’s cock, his groan being muffled by your skin. He bites, suckles and kisses the particular spot underneath your jaw, so far up your neck you won’t be able to hide it, especially because it’s summer. And you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it’s throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked. It leaves you breathless, not having time to recover when Wonwoo pulls your shirt up until he can get one nipple into his mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwon, fuck,” you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, and Wonwoo growls at the nickname, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he’s telling you how much this affects him. “Please—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you’re sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. Wonwoo busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Down and down, his fingers then slips inside your penties, brushing across your clit so lightly that it has your whole body rocking with shivers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s body goes completely still. You feel him tensing under your palms, heat already flooding your face when you know he feels it, feels the way you’re already stretched open for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You—” he starts but stops himself, pushing a finger inside for great measure. Wonwoo growls when he meets almost no resistance, face lifting from where it rests on your chest to look at you. “When?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The intensity of his voice leaves your mouth dry.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“E-earlier, in the— in the s-shower,” you confess, voice quiet, and you can’t look away, Wonwoo’s eyes pinning you to your spot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hah,” he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. Wonwoo pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. You moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. “Acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He gyrates his hand, pushing hard and without mercy, right before he adds another finger, this time more slowly. It burns a little, his fingers way bigger than yours, but you love the slight pain.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come into my house knowing I would fuck you?” Wonwoo asks, knows the answers but does it anyway. He moves his hand a little, waiting for your to be more comfortable with the sensation of his fingers, but as soon as your frown turns upside down, Wonwoo has no restrains whatsoever, fucking into you fast and sharp. “Fingered yourself knowing that I would split you open on my big cock?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but Wonwoo holds your waist with his free hand and pins them down hard. Your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can’t stop the loud moans slipping through your lips, doesn’t even care about the neighbors as your nails sink into Wonwoo’s back to the point it might leave tiny crescent moons all over it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come back then?” Wonwoo continues, pace unforgiving even when tears well up into your eyes. He trusts you to use your safeword if needed as much as you trust him to use his. “Did you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You struggle to answer, voice being surrendered to moans and whines and whimpers and it’s hard to focus when he’s hitting your sweet spot with the tip of his fingers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah! Ah, hmmm, f-fuck, please Won— Wonwon,” you try, can’t even understand how you still manage to get red when you realise Wonwoo is looking at you with so much desire. The point you both most like about your relationship is that Wonwoo is the dom, but he knows you have him in the palm of your tiny hands. “I, ah, d-din’t. Di— Didn’t want to, fuck, please— c-come without you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out at that, your cunt clenching around nothing as he goes lighting fast to take both of your clothes off, grab your waist and flip you on your stomach just as he reaches for the nightstand to grab what you know very well it’s a bottle of lube. He pulls your hips up until you’re face down, ass up on the bed, the hurry in all of this only sending desperation all over your body, and the sound of the cap being opened has butterflies in your stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Fuck,” Wonwoo sounds a mess, fingers hurrying to close a fist on his cock and jerk it off furiously to spread the lube better, the wet head nudging against your rim. “Fuck, shit, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Do it,” you beg. “Please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And who is he to deny what you want?

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pushes inside you slowly despite his hunger, knows he’s big and there’s an alarming size difference between the both of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands clench into fists and it feels like you’re being impaled onto Wonwoo’s cock, going deeper than any cock you ever taken before. Tears cling to your lashes as a small jolt of pain runs up your spine, the lube easing Wonwoo’s way in. Overall you’re proud of yourself, haven taken him before, more times than you can count, and you accommodate his cock like a pro.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your chest heaves, no amount of air feels like enough as Wonwoo’s cock all but punches everything out of you. You’re biting at the pillow by the time the last of it pushes into you, a haze surrounding your mind because it feels so good.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s groan transforms into a moan once he’s buried all the way into you, hips flush against your ass and spreading you open so wide and so deep, you would think you might break if you didn’t know any better. You gasp, back arching downward as you take your time to adjust to the large intrusion.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses your shoulder tenderly, waiting for you to grow used to the feeling. He can be rough when it comes to bed, but he always is mindful of you no matter how impatient and desperate he is. There’s this soft feeling going on inside you, mixing with your pleasure and it only serves to make you more needy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, hot breath falling against your neck as he stands behind you. You feel surrounded — his scent everywhere, the pulse of the hickeys he carved on your skin, the press of his long fingers on your waist —, your submission for Wonwoo’s eyes only.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You nod at him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

A lick at your neck is all the warning you get before Wonwoo pulls out so very slowly, cock dragging against your walls and rim. It feels like forever, you whining at the sensation, and then you’re being slammed back into.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah!” you gasp, eyes blurry as you struggle for air. You moan as Wonwoo drags himself back out again, and thrusts right back in and groans at the feeling. “Y-yes—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So good,” Wonwoo growls, close to inhumane as he continues with that pace. “So fucking good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Eventually, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be able to go slow anymore, thrusts turning sharper and harder, his pace unrelenting. You find yourself almost screaming through it, so overwhelmed by the size of him — a good overwhelmed, the best overwhelmed —, but the way you feel so full and the exponential pleasure leaves you numb to any other thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo, your mind seems to chant, fucked open mercilessly by your boyfriend.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Taking cock like a pro, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Wonwoo says, stops for a second, adjusts his hips, and then slams back right into your sweet spot, like he knows where it is by heart. Your body lurches forward, bed slamming against the wall. Hands reaching to hold onto something, you scramble against the sheats until one of them fists it and the other holds the pillow for dear life. “You’re gonna wake the whole hall, screaming like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You have enough of a decency to feel ashamed about it, but it’s not like neither of you actually care. If anything, Wonwoo fucks you harder, hips jamming inside you until your throat hurts from all the noises you’re making.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please, p-please— I wanna— I h-have to— Fuck, ah!” you’re not even sure about what you’re begging for, Wonwoo pulling your hips to meet his thrusts half way. You love this, feeling like a ragdoll, being thrown around and only able to take what he gives to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Good little girl,” Wonwoo croons, his voice rough. Your skin glistens with sweat, the shimmering red light reflecting on it. “Looking so beautiful taking my cock.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure what compels you after he says that but you reach down, hand smoothing down your abdomen because you feel like Wonwoo is spearing you open. But you go completely tense, squeezing Wonwoo so hard he stutters with a moan, because under your palm there is the outline of his cock protruding against your lower belly. The feeling makes you so overwhelmed that you can’t hold it in, whithe pleasure flooding you as you end up coming, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you’re crying all the way through it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re coming?” Wonwoo deadpans, sounding surprised and angry at the same time. “Holy shit, you’re coming untouched and without my permission? What were you think—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s complaint immediately dies down when you bring a trembling hand to grab his wrist and put his fingers in the cause of your orgasm. There’s a beat of silence, the both of you completely still, and then Wonwoo is growling the most animalistic growl you ever heard him do, the sheer intensity of it rocking all the way to your bones. He presses his hips so tightly into yours it has you sobbing.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” it’s all he says, tone two octaves lower and sounding dangerous, doesn’t even have it in him to punish you. “Fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s like the caged beast he keeps so carefully locked deep within himself started to surface. Wonwoo pushes your head down on the mattress, the other hand still on your belly. He pulls out until the tip and then slams back inside, as hard as he can, and you downright scream at the feeling, the oversensitiviness adding up to your pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s another few seconds of silence, and then Wonwoo is fucking you brutally. His moans echo through the room, so completely desperate that it has you wailing, sobbing, crying desperate pleas for more.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at that,” Wonwoo says, hand pressing harder against the bulge in your stomach. “Pushed my big cock into you until your insides were forced to make room for it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He grabs your arm and yanks you up, your back pressing against his chest and an arm circling around your waist. The other comes up to squeeze your left breast as you practically sit on his thighs. You moan at the feeling of his pierced nipple dragging against your skin every time he fucks up into you, your body only held in place because of the firm grip Wonwoo has on you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Sobbing, you feel like you’re losing yourself in the sensations, Wonwoo’s cock pounding into your cunt and his voice by your ear and the burn of his hips hitting your ass — by now it must be all red, the marks probably going to linger for some time. You can’t hold yourself together anymore, mouth open and drooling, tears clinging to your lashes, staccato moans falling from your lips that break on every thrust. You’re limp against Wonwoo, can’t even fuck back, letting him have his way with you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Drooling all over yourself for my cock,” Wonwoo says, fucks in deep against your sweet spot and mouths at the side of your neck. “Because of me, right? Tell me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you— yours, yours, please,” your head falls back on his shoulder, hand pressing tightly in the shape of his cock in your stomach, and at this point you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’ve broken you in, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And he did, really. He has broken you in, has you crying on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You belong to who?” Wonwoo pressed his hips flush on your ass, grinds hard enough for your body to be sent forward. A short few seconds so you can take a breath — or at least try to. “Hm? Who’s fucking you this good?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, Wonwon, you, please,” you cry out as he starts to fuck you mercilessly again, the brutal pace punching moans out of you. “Ah, ah, ah, p-please, haaah, I’m y-yours— yours, b-belong to, hmmm, to you only, please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echoes, thrusts turning erratic and groans morphing into moans. “Mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I can’t — I’m g-gonna—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come for me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And it’s enough for you. Your muscles tense, toes curling as hot, white pleasure surges through your body and floods you until you fall limp on the bed, hips only up because Wonwoo is holding them tightly. You clench around his cock involuntarily, his groan muffled by your hair and he’s coming, Wonwoo’s cock twitching inside you as thick spurts of come fill you to the brim. They seem to be endless, his spunk filling you up until it’s dripping out and down your thighs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t remember much of what happens later. Your mind spins and then you fall into a most needed slumber.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wake up a bit disoriented, having no idea how much has passed since you fell asleep, but you realise you’re all cleaned up and dressed, head resting in Wonwoo’s — thankfully, for the sake of your precious pussy — clothed chest as he uses his cellphone. He smells clean too, hair still a little bit wet, and you smile thinking that the shower you both took before going to bed was useless.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re up?” comes Wonwoo’s question when he feels your lips moving against him, placing his phone somewhere on the bed and circling his arms around you. You move your head, looking up at him with fondness.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, baby,” you breathe out, reaching to peck him in the lips once. He smiles, that kind of smile that leaves you breathless with love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, my love,” Wonwoo laughs when you blush at the pet name. It’s so sweet and endearing, you always feel warm whenever he says it. “I see you still get all red when I call you that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you swat at his arm, Wonwoo’s following laugh sounding like the best music you ever heard. “How much did I sleep?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Not much,” he presses you tighter against him. “I think one hour? Something like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you say, legs tangling with his and the smile never leaving your lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course, my love. Always will take care of you,” Wonwoo nuzzles your hair and inhales. “Got kind of surprised that I managed to fuck you into unconsciousness.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you mortify with a laugh, hitting his chest, but he only giggles at you. He giggles. Your heart might explode soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What? Can’t I be happy that I pleasured my tiny girlfriend the way she deserves to?” Wonwoo says, and it sounds like a joke, but when you look up at him again to make a retort, the reverence in his eyes surrenders you speechless.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He stares at you with so much admiration and love, like you’re the most beautiful thing ever.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” you say instead, cheeks hurting from the way you’re smiling, and Wonwoo seems to be caught off guard because he’s blushing. Wonwoo’s blushing. He’s so cute you want to die.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up and go back to sleep,” he coughs, pushing your head against his chest and you laugh at this shyness. “I love you too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Yes. The warmness of his hands, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the love in his eyes, the sweetness of his words — you missed everything about Jeon Wonwoo.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

[awakeshedreams]

sugar and spice ( 1 )

pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader

setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au

summary :

a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school's resident bad boy.... Jeon Jungkook.

genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension

rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content

warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don't like don't read XD

wordcount : 2.3K

a/n : i've been fighting in a long standing war and I have lost. the man known as jeon jungkook had his foot on my neck for years and today, I have finally submitted to my fate and surrendered to his reign.

yes. after a hundred years, i'm writing again. specifically, writing for bts. particularly, writing for jungkook. its been a long time coming.

life just took over and I transitioned into an adult and kind of grew out of the state of mind I was in before. but. sigh. jeon jungkook has been tormenting me the whole time. it was only a matter of time before i relapsed honestly.

so here I am again. in mind, body and spirit, a different person from who I was before but still the same in the sense that with the way bts have my whole heart, jk will always be the demon in the corner of my room that I invite to bed for a cuddle even though it's (probably really) not good for me.

do not misconstrue. I love him more than I can say. but. sigh. he has me in a chokehold, loves. please try to understand where I'm coming from.

anyways, enough with this ranting. you all came here for the nitty gritty so let me not hold you hostage with my dilemma rambling any longer. here's to the first bts fic i've posted in literal years. introducing- sugar and spice.

1 2

Unless they told someone, no one would have been able to guess it.

At school they were complete strangers.

She was the nice head girl with a clean record, all smiles and straight A’s. He was the mysterious bad boy with a track record, all tatted up with bruised knuckles.

She wore plaid skirts with neat pleads in them and pastel sweaters with bows at the collar. He wore jeans with rips in them and leather jackets with studs.

They couldn't have been any more different.

As far as anyone was concerned, they existed on two extreme ends of a vast spectrum.

What they didn't know was that they shared a dirty little secret.

.

You were a girl with many dirty secrets.

For instance, you used to sell nudes online. It was a side hustle you did.

Not because you needed money.

Your mom was a renowned doctor so there was more than enough of that in your life.

Not because you needed validation from people online either.

Even without the constant compliments and the praises you knew you were visually blessed with a pretty face and a nice body too.

All things considered, you simply thought you had a nice pair of tits and you took pictures of them sometimes.

Posting the shots you snapped online came much later when you heard about this website where people were getting paid crazy money for posting racy things.

‘It’s just so degrading…’ It was one of your friends, June, who sneered, pretty nose scrunched up. She fixed her long ponytail and rolled her brown eyes while looking in the mirror at her locker. ‘Who would do such a thing, am I right?’

She said this, but June was the girl who has slept with more boys than she could count on her two hands. And those were the ones she told you about.

Like every other time, you said nothing. Even when it carried on to lunch with the rest.

‘Pretty desperate if you ask me.’ Mei the stellar track runner shrugged casually as she stretched her limbs like routine.

‘Where are their parents?’ Nina the library nerd shook her head in disapproval as she fixed her glasses so it sat right on the bridge of her nose.

‘Um… I don’t think it’s … appropriate… to talk about ….’ Kiko the one who always carried a cross and bible around mumbled into her sleeve.

All your friends spoke of it in derision and repulsion of course. This was a school for proper children so they were proper girls. At least they were supposed to be.

Regardless the conversation sparked a curiosity in you.

So you made an account and uploaded your first picture. Nothing bizarre. Just your tits in a pretty lace bra.

You made sure to keep your face out of the frame because that was the smart thing to do and you were nothing if not the smartest student in school.

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting anything out of it. In fact, in between work with student council and tutoring your juniors with finals right around the corner, you even forgot about it for an entire month.

It was by a complete whim that you decided to open the app while you’d been unwinding at your desk following a tedious day at school.

To say you were amused by the response you found waiting for you would have be a grave understatement.

You were staring at the four figure digit that now sat in your bank account.

Reading through the comment section was even more interesting.

There were all sorts of people there who had all sorts of things to say. Ranging from honestly sweet to downright dirty.

You had never been brought to tears laughing in her life before until then.

It was just so funny to see people misbehave and lose their minds over a pair of tits.

From then on it just sort of became a thing.

.

But that wasn't the worse of your secrets.

You were making a name for yourself on the crude web months later.

The next step was naturally to move from making taking pictures to making videos. Since you was already in too deep you didn’t see why not.

So you upgraded and opened another account. An amateur one where your touched yourself for an audience.

You were no prude.

You might have never been touched by a boy before but you had touched yourself plenty times. Stress and frustration came hand in hand with being head girl. Since you couldn’t quite vent it out at the annoying troublemakers at school, this was your second best option.

Third was watching porn, but that was mostly when you were extremely bored.

But that wasn’t where that little endeavor ended.

Later on it became a lot more risqué.

.

It all started when your mom hit you with a marriage announcement.

She met a guy on her business trip who she really liked and she was convinced he was the one.

Your mom had a tragic history of being a bad judge of character.

You’ve had this conversation at least five times since you became old enough to understand that boys and girls who were just friends didn’t kiss and sleep with each other.

Most times, it felt like she was doing it because she thought you needed a dad around.

You might have once, when you were younger and your mom was too busy with work to be there. But she worked from home these days and you were soo busy with school to worry about things like that.

This time it was like she was doing it for her. You were glad.

Your mom looked genuinely happy when she spoke about this guy.

Who were you to get in the way?

.

She spent almost the whole weekend in the kitchen. It was the longest you’ve seen her in there in your entire life.

She was excited for the dinner on Sunday.

Mr Jeon was the name of the chosen man.

He was coming over with his kid. A son, his only family. His wife passed away years ago.

You wore the dress your mom picked out for you, something cream in color and off the shoulders that brushed your knees. She looked pretty in her champagne dress. It was different from the office slacks and loose blouses you were used to seeing her in.

You stood by her at the door while the guests came through.

Lifting your head from a polite bow, you found herself staring straight into an achingly familiar pair of glinting dark eyes and went completely still.

‘Sweetie,' Your mother said sounding delighted, a soft hand on your stiff shoulder. 'This is Mr Jeon and his son Jungkook.’

Ah. Fuck.

‘Jeon dear, this is my daughter. Isn’t she lovely?’

.

Dinner was a mild affair, with small talk and the occasional clinking of cutlery on fine china.

From the outside looking in, you probably looked the picture perfect family already.

Only if no-one looked close enough.

Arms crossed, tongue in cheek. Your discomfort could be detected from miles away.

The two adults were oblivious.

The dark eyed boy with the slightest wave to his nape touching, brow grazing, ear covering onyx hair sat across you though; he took note of this with a passing glance and wordlessly returned to his food.

Jeon Jungkook had a countenance that betrayed his reputation.

Even though you’ve never talked, you knew plenty about him and you were sure he knew a lot about you too.

You went to the same school.

Dressed as he was in a crisp white dress shirt buttoned at the wrist and dark tailored pants with a fine belt on, it might have been hard to tell what kind of person he really was.

You lifted her gaze from your plate to look study him wordlessly, idly twisting the noodles with your fork.

People either called him the black sheep or the dark cloud but for you, Jeon Jungkook was the school’s resident lone wolf.

He smoked in the secluded areas on campus, sometimes playing his guitar. Beat up people who got on his nerves, sometimes using his guitar. Slept in class the rare times he was there, many times on his guitar.

Being his senior, you had never seen any of any of that for yourself. But you received plenty reports weekly to come to a sound conclusion.

There was no way people hated him enough to join hands in solidarity and make this all up.

It was quite the contrary actually. He had an alarming number of fans.

On the surface level you couldn’t see why. Most times you saw him, he looked bored out his mind and honestly, intimidating.

Maybe it was the tattoos. Or the ripped skinny jeans. Or the leather jackets with studs.

Maybe it was the domineering height and fit frame and structured face.

Maybe it was the intense dark eyes or the silky ruffled hair.

Even then, you failed to see the irresistible appeal in him. All those things that made him up only added to his unapproachable aura.

Bottom line was, he was bad news.

.

You didn’t want to be a spoil sport.

But how much of a thug your mom’s boyfriend’s son was shouldn’t be something that would make her like him less.

They were both their own people. Right ?

It was just that you just didn’t want her to be shocked and devastated if something happened later. When it happened.

Yet it seemed the serious conversation would have to wait.

After dinner your mom suggested you head to the living room to chat over wine and cheese.

You stayed back to do take out the dishes.

Earlier, your mom had stood to do it instead at first.

‘Don’t bother with that, dear.’ She reached for the plates in your hands. ‘Let me do it.’

‘It’s okay, mom.’ You smiled a little. ‘This is your night. I’ll meet you in the living room.’

'Sweetie...' Your mom looked close to tears. ‘But there’s so much of it…’

‘Jungkook,’ his father's voice had cut through the moment. He was a serious man in a crisp suit with a stoic countenance. His voice was just naturally authoritarian without him trying ‘Give her a hand.’

Jungkook stood, almost robotically.

‘It’s fine.’ You said. Politely. Nicely. Tightly. ‘I can handle this much.’

You left without another word.

That had been moments ago and now you were done with cleaning.

You stood at living room entrance for a while, taking in the scene.

The two adults were exchanging moon eyes and whispering in each other’s ears at the love seat.

Jungkook was sitting on a solo seat, but he was on his phone, completely unbothered by what was happening.

Your mom seemed to think it was the perfect time to pull out the photo album right then and there upon seeing you.

It was embarrassing but at least you knew you didn’t have to worry about the pictures spreading at school.

Jungkook was looking, picking up a picture occasionally to rove over, but he wasn’t the type to do that.

He also wasn’t the type to stare but you felt his glance shifting to you and lingering multiple times.

Once, you caught his eyes and he just stared at you across the coffee table wordlessly with a curious tilt to his head, idly flipping a picture of you dressed as a knight in glitter shining armor for Halloween at eight in his hands.

Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.

But you endured. For your mom’s sake.

.

Your alarm went off at exactly ten.

As subtly as you could, you excused yourself with an apology to the guests, saying you weren't really feeling well.

In hindsight you probably should have used a better excuse.

Your mom was notorious when it came to worrying, especially when it comes to your health.

Also, you probably should’ve locked the door before undressing just for good measure since people were over.

But in the moment, you were too busy setting your camera up where you were kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed to be concerned about that.

That day you were testing out a new toy.

.

Distractedly, you took note of a couple of people asking you if that was your boyfriend’s shirt you had lifted over your tits.

You ignored them.

Couldn’t a girl own an oversized tee without getting any flack?

Trivial comments like that aside, a good majority of the audience are fawning over how wet you were and how perfect you bouncing tits look being played with.

Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut.

You were sitting there, knees raised to your chest and legs splayed, your gushing pussy in full display where the toy was stuffed deep into her tightness, vibrating pleasantly.

‘I’m close…’ you mumbled throatily, squeezing your tits and pinching your stiff nipples in between your moving fingers. You moved your hips move faster, feeling the toy buzz against fluttering walls. You took a hand off one of your tits to rub at your engorged clit. ‘Fuckfuckfuck…’

Deep in your high, you didn’t hear the door open and close with a foreboding click.

You only heard your name being called by a deep, smooth voice through the heady haze.

Instantly you stilled.

When you snapped your head to look over her shoulder Jungkook was there, hands in his pockets, leaning against your doorframe with his sleeves drawn up to his elbows, muscle roped, inked skin on full display.

When he tilted his head to the side a little, appraisively, you dared to say as a quaking chill ran down your spine and your entire body felt like it was about to burst into flames, a bit of his hair fell over his face.

His eyes were like two black in the dark as he took you in, dragging his gaze up and down your exposed body languidly.

In the back of your mind, you wished the ground would part and swallow you whole.

‘Your mom,' he starts, capturing your attention wholly, dark gaze finally flickering to your face, his voice suddenly lower, hoarser. ‘She sent me over to check on you.’

It took you a moment to realize where you were, who you were, who he was.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dropped over your head.

Jeon Jungkook, the school's resident trouble maker, soon to be your step brother, just walked in on you fingering yourself in in front of a recording camera.

Well. Yeah.

You gulped.

You were royally fucked.

depending on the response I get I might ( most probably will ) delete this. not because I'm ashamed of my work. because I'm embarrassed of myself. I really swore to never write again and here I am. sigh. yes, I have seen my previous works and noticed just how terrible they were and this is a big reason why. so sorry for putting you through that. a million apologies.

also, that's right. I have adopted a new style which might not be to everyone's liking. another reason why.

anyways, if you liked this filth ( i know it seems mild but I can tell you it's very likely gonna get worse ) please idk uh... fuck this isn't ao3. hm.

like and drop by in the ask box if you liked it and want to see more. it makes me happy. its like serotonin fuel to me.

have a nice day. see you next time ( maybe ). stay fresh. yeah. 💜💜.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Demeter

Have I been using this series to vicariously punish Belphie for the events of Season 1? I cannot confirm nor deny that statement.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter

Lucifer

Didn't think too much of the "human" when they popped out of the portal. Sure they had a straw hat and a huge basket full of produce but it wasn’t like they were… Wait… No… Were they…?

Oh no. Oh nonononono, this is not good…!!

Demeter is notoriously doting and protective of her children (see her freakout and breakdown after Hades abducted of Persephone as proof) and they've pretty much done the EXACT. SAME. THING. here!!

It was a mad scramble by him and Diavolo to contact and appease their godly Mother Bear before she came roaring down to Devildom herself to turn them all into barley. Thankfully, Zeus must have intervened at some point because though she was indeed PISSED, she didn't threaten to barge in… yet.

She made one thing very clear. Bend so much as a single hair on her precious child's head and there would be WAR…

The MC received a 24 hour security detail after that. Just Mammon wasn't going to cut it, he needed NO chances. It was a full rotation of Mammon, him and Beel for the entirety of their stay (Asmo and Levi both threw hissy fits at the prospect of babysitting, Satan couldn’t be trusted not to kill them just to irritate him, and Belphie was out for… obvious reasons).

In some ways, it wasn’t so bad. The MC was a very mild sort of person, rather even tempered. He’d dare say they were pleasant, mostly content to just tend to their gardens and be out in the moonlight…

But the problem was, he just could not convince them to stay OUT of nature. Including the forests, which were full of hellish beasts fully intent on gnawing their flesh from their bones… and their specialty was plants, not animals, sooo…

Their habit of sneaking out to wander the woods got so bad that he very nearly considered pulling a Belphie 2 and locking them in the basement for their own good. But Devil knows what damage their mother would do if she found out…

At least they make for pleasant company… And Diavolo seems to like them quite a bit himself so the mortal gets a pass from him. Now if they’d only consider their own safety for a change…

Mammon

They make him a KILLING.

Like, no seriously. Their produce is insane!! He’s never tasted food so good, especially stuff that’s come fresh from the ground! It only took a few berries for Mammon to throw on a straw hat himself and start harvesting! He’s a farmer now, baby!!

Weeellll not quite. He’s still absolutely only in it for the money, but anything he brings to a farmer’s market goes so fast that he can hardly care about the labor! He’s never made this much Grimm in his life!! And it’s totally legit for a change!

He bought himself another car, paid off half of his debt, and even got Levi back that 2 or 3 grand he leant him centuries ago. Really, Mammon’s living his best life and it’s all thanks to MC!

It’s a good thing his blatant grifting doesn’t hurt his relationship with them at all, in fact they seem to enjoy having his help regardless. They bring him drinks on hot days or invite him on picnics and stuff, it’s… it’s really sweet. They’re very nice to him and he appreciates it…

But… COULD YA JUST STAY PUT ALREADY???

It drives him INSANE that they won’t stay out of dangerous places!! After he started caring about them for more than just a meal ticket it only got even worse!!

He’s not usually one for monitoring someone’s every move (that kind of control freak behavior is more a Lucifer thing) but he eventually had to set up familiars around the House just to keep them from sneaking out at night...

What was so interesting out there anyway?? There wasn’t any kind of plant that he could bring them himself! They didn’t have any need to be out there!! 

They’d keep telling him they’d be fine but it’s not like he’s going to actually buy that. They were too… nice to be dangerous or anything so why would he believe them?

No more running off, MC! Please, he’s beggin’ ya!!

Leviathan 

Wait, gardening? Like, being outdoors and stuff? Ew. No thanks, he’ll pass.

That was more or less his first reaction when they showed up and it never really got much better than that…

He admits that they’re friendly and it’s not like he dislikes them or anything, but their thing so far from his thing that they just don’t have a lot in common… you know?

For starters, they get So. Antsy. when they’re inside for too long! He tried to invite them to a marathon once, but they could hardly keep still and kept looking around like they were searching for a window… He said, “to jump out of.” They insisted just for some fresh air, but he didn’t buy it...

They’re nice enough to listen to his rants, but they’re barely ever inside for him to do so and like HELL is he going to leave his room and stand around out there for that long. Ranting is at least a one to two hour engagement! What if he gets hot out there? And have you SEEN Devildom bees?? Hell no!!

He has, however, asked them on multiple occasions to reproduce flowers he’s seen in different anime, especially ones that have a very unique look and they’ve done some real wonders with that!

He can now claim to be the only person to ever own a Ruby-Jade Vine plant, straight from the pages of TSL when it was used to brew tea for the Lord of Lechery during his brief illness and-is anyone even still listening anymore?

The point is, it’s a flower so rare it was imaginary but now HE has it!... or had it for about a week until his utter incompetence of all things plant killed it…

He begged the MC for another but they were out of the plants they needed to make it and would have to go back to the human world to find more… He’s still mourning his loss… Poor Henry 4.0…

Satan

Well… He’s called this MC “salt of the Earth” and he does truly mean it. Take of that what you will.

He doesn’t get much in the way of intellectual conversation out of this mortal UNLESS he’s talking about plants, farming, or botany… Interesting topics and complex in their own right to be sure, but that’s pretty much their wheelhouse and they like it there.

That being said, the feats that they can perform are genuinely mind-blowing! They are the ONLY person he has ever met who can cultivate the Devildom’s own ultra-rare Phantom Orchid, a plant only blooms when it reaches a perfect state of undeath (i.e. both taken care of and neglected just enough so that it's only barely alive. The balance is so tricky to master that one hasn’t bloomed down there for centuries!)

There’s also something just genuinely relaxing about watching them work or helping them in the gardens… More so than he’d ever expected from such a simple activity.

He admits that he’s taken quite a few strolls through the flower-filled courtyard of the Demon Lord’s Castle just to admire its beauty... But anything that they can grow just blows all of that out of the water!

They even taught him several magic botanical techniques so now he can grow some pretty mad plants himself. Lucifer never expected to find that giant Venus Flytrap in his closet, but one was there regardless. 😏

Just… out of curiosity one day, he asked the MC if they could make him a new kind of catnip. Not for any nefarious reason! You know… just for research purposes…

The nip they made was so effective that the House grounds were FILLED with nipped-up cats for a whole month! He was in Heaven!! (and Lucifer practically wiped those plants from existence so he couldn’t get any more… asshole...)

That must have inspired them because they apparently made a demons-only version that they told him about WELL after the fact. Had he known, he probably would have burned the stuff on principle... Do you know how dangerous demon-nip could be to them? Experiment responsibly, MC!

Asmodeus 

Ehhhh, gardening SOUNDS like one of those things that should be super Devilgram-able, but then you realize how sweaty and dirty you get in the process and it’s a huge turn off… Sorry MC.

When they first came down to the Devildom, he thought two things: 1) Such a sweet little flower child, as adorable as they were, would never survive; and 2) even if they could, he would never ever see eye-to-eye with them on the “wonders” of getting all up in the dirt.

Well, he was right about 2, but certainly not 1. Personally, he thinks his brothers worry about them too much, they ARE still a demigod.

At one point he saw a pack of hellhounds almost trample one of their vegetable gardens and they lost it. Word to the wise, never try to take on a child of Demeter in their own garden. Those hounds were wrapped up in rose vines before they could even yelp...

Yeah, the MC would be fine.

That being said, while everybody else clamors over their produce, he thinks that their flowers are really where it’s at!

Taking just five minutes in one of their gardens is something else... He’s never seen blossoms as healthy and immaculate in all the Devildom before! Their beauty could (almost) rivals his own! What they do isn’t just a hobby, it’s an art.

He’s taken multiple pictures with their blossoms and they go viral every time. It’s so rare to actually see gorgeous, petal-filled flowers in the Devildom, most of the native plants are of the man-eating variety.

His only complaint about this MC is that they seem to feel much more at home in work clothes and dirt than they do in any sort of party-look he tries to give them… Cute as they are, they can afford to gussy up sometimes can’t they? Mud and grass stains don’t make for a good look, sorry.

Beelzebub 

Beel gardens and the MC gardens as well. Add on that they seem to be able to grow all manner of fruits and veggies and he likes this one. A lot.

They had just finished apple-picking when the portal nabbed them so they had a massive basket of apples at the time. Naturally, Beel more or less stole the thing on sight, but the apples inside were so juicy and good that he almost shook them down for more on the spot!

Imagine his surprise when they, half pleadingly, explained to him that if he got them some seeds they could just grow more… and it wouldn’t even take that long.

To be clear, the formula he saw was this: Get seeds > bring seeds to mortal > mortal grows seeds > mortal makes endless supply of food….

Congratulations MC, you’ve now earned the sixthborn’s eternal loyalty after a grand total of… two minutes. He didn’t even know their name, but he was willing to take a bullet for them (provided he got more of those apples).

The next several months were spent with Beel attached to them to the hip in some way, but honestly? It was just so wholesome anyway…

If he’s helping in the garden, he never complains. He does most of the heavy lifting and actually likes being out there with them (unlike others...)

Many afternoons were spent sitting under fruit trees and talking. Sometimes, they go to the trouble of preparing a picnic or something but it would always inevitably end with Beel plucking the whole tree clean of whatever ripe (or unripe) fruit he can get his hands on with a smile. 

The MC never minded though. That’s just another excuse to grow more, right?

His only problem was when the MC would sneak out to the forest… especially when they get too antsy and just go alone. 

He HATES it when they do that! How is he supposed to keep them safe if they just wander off?? He knows that they have a special connection to nature and all, but it isn’t safe…

He’s flown in and scooped them back up to the House on numerous occasions and his “talking tos” get sterner after every rescue... Please stay put, MC! He’d have so many reasons to be sad if you were eaten… 😔

Belphegor 

Okay, he was looking for a capable, if not gullible, human. Not a shoeless flower hippy!

He honestly wasn't expecting much out of this one... Damn their little heart because they did genuinely believed his lies, it’s just that they weren't… well… They were really good at gardening.

… And it grew kind of hard to keep hating them whenever they'd show up just to give him fresh berries or a bouquet to see him smile… He may claim that his heart is made of nightmares and orphan tears, but who doesn’t enjoy being given a batch of flowers? 

Damn their sweetness too… Right to here.

When it came time to kill them he had a heavier heart than he thought he would, but kind of saw it like putting down the sacrificial lamb. Gotta be done to reach better goals... Stiff upper lip and all that.

Unfortunately for him, they had taken to carrying packets of demon-nip with them as a self-defense measure…

He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected when they shouted “Get nipped!” at him mid-attack, but it wasn’t a face full of some smelly herb! Like, really smelly…! Actually, that smelt kind of good… Hold on.

Turns out murderous rage really doesn’t last long after you get what is effectively ultra-strong catnip thrown in your face. They ended up having to go and tell Lucifer what happened themselves because Belphie was way too blissed out on the floor to do anything... They were legitimately worried they might have fried his brain...

He’s told the effects of the demon-nip lasted three days. He doesn’t know, because he hardly remembers any of it... They described him as like he was high on “weed” and “ecstasy” at the same time but he doesn’t know what either of those are either so it wasn’t helpful…

Truthfully, they were so nice to him while he was recovering that he couldn’t even be mad afterwards so all's well that ends well? Either way, he’s sleeping under their orchard trees from now on. It’s peaceful out there...

They burnt all that nip though. It’s some strong stuff...

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (June 1/2021) - All Roads Lead to Rome

Ponk tears down one of the towers of L’Llamaburg for overshadowing his supreme fridge.

Tubbo creates a new outpost just outside Las Nevadas to overlook the country.

Techno has a birthday party with the Syndicate and Quackity comes over to bring a message. 

Quackity speaks with Foolish in Las Nevadas about his future plans for the country and roads.

Niki finds out about Wilbur’s revival. 

Bad asks for Techno’s help with destroying his enemies, as he’s upset about L’Llamaburg violating the buffer zone agreement. Puffy confronts Bad about the brewing war.

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

Tubbo

Technoblade

Nihachu

BadBoyHalo

Captain Puffy

---

- Ponk tears down one of the towers of L’Llamaburg

- Ponk sends Foolish through the labyrinth he built

- Afterwards, they visit the turtle sanctuary

- Ponk shows Foolish that he tore down the tower for overshadowing his supreme fridge. Foolish points out that he and Puffy don’t have the best history. Ponk is still bitter over Puffy destroying Sacrifice’s shrine

- Tubbo creates an outpost on a mountain just outside of Las Nevadas to keep an eye on the country

- Quackity comes over and asks what Tubbo is doing. He says he’ll speak with Tubbo later

- If anyone asks, Tubbo will say it’s just a cookie outpost from Snowchester

- Foolish comes over as well and tells Tubbo that he sent Punz on the mission to find the nuke

- Tubbo asks why Foolish has left Snowchester. Foolish says he’s trying something new -- he’s joining Las Nevadas, actually

- Foolish takes Tubbo on a tour through Las Nevadas. He asks if Tubbo would want to join Las Nevadas, but Tubbo declines

- Techno starts off in his house. He walks outside to find Niki, Phil and Ranboo launching fireworks for his birthday! They also set up a table outside the house with some cake

- After they eat some cake, Techno asks what he’s missed. He’s gone off into the wild to train, while Phil thought he was hibernating. Techno asks if they found out Tommy actually died. Phil tells him he did, but Dream brought him back

- Speaking of things brought back...Wilbur is back too. Niki and Techno are both shocked. Phil tells them that he’s actually living in Phil’s house currently. He tells Niki Wilbur’s changed for the better

- Techno brings Steve out

- He notices the new forest, which the others say sprouted up. It just appeared

- The subject returns to the revival book. Niki says, if Wilbur and Tommy have been brought back, there’s one person left that can be brought back that they don’t want back: Schlatt

- Niki asks if there are any new governments. Phil says no, Snowchester is still there but nothing much has happened that they need to step in on

- They solved the government issue with brute force. Techno says it was “mild property damage,” but Phil disagrees, saying it was mass destruction. They agree to just blame everything on Dream

- While he was away, Techno studied the blade. He suggests a training session for Niki and Ranboo

- Techno has something to do. He leaves, noticing Quackity standing on a hill nearby

- Quackity says hello. Techno tells him it’s his birthday (he’s not sure how old he is, though) and Quackity thanks him for helping with the Egg. He asks if Techno has visited Dream (Techno hasn’t)

- Techno went to the Dream SMP equivalent of Italy on vacation

- Quackity tells Techno he’s been visiting Dream, and that while in prison Dream seems to be a completely different person. Techno asks if Dream’s been treated well, and Quackity says he’s fine 

- Just a few days ago, Dream told Quackity that he wanted Techno to visit, that he finally wanted to call in a “favor”

- Techno explains that the “favor” is that he has to get Dream his favorite meal at some point, since they were at a restaurant once and Techno forgot his wallet

Quackity: “He’s changed a lot. If you walk in there, he doesn’t seem like the person he’s always been, which is weird, how a person can change just like that.”

Techno: “It’s strange what five months of near total isolation can do to a person...as we know, it’s always a positive effect.”

- Sometime during this weekend, Techno will visit. Techno asks if Quackity has any written message from Dream, and Quackity says he can probably get one. He only has notes right now

- Techno asks if Quackity is telling the truth. He would hate to be lied to on his birthday...Quackity says he’s not lying, and as he said, he’s glad they set aside their differences

Quackity: “At the end of the day, scars fade away, Techno...”

- Quackity says goodbye and leaves. Techno wonders if he can trust him

- He returns to the others and they celebrate some more

- Phil takes them all down to show off the training arena he made in the basement

- They go back up and talk some more

- Meanwhile, Quackity meets Foolish at Las Nevadas. He asks about Tubbo’s outpost, and Foolish says it’s a cookie outpost. Quackity tells Foolish not to trust it, realizing he actually hasn’t talked to Tubbo recently

- Quackity is bothered by how clear the view of Las Nevadas is from the outpost and questions why Foolish didn’t stop Tubbo from building it

- He asks the last thing Foolish did in Las Nevadas as they walk over there, and then whether or not he’s already discussed the possibility of a “contract” of formal citizenship

- Quackity wants to get to know Foolish better. He makes sure that he can trust Foolish, confide in him certain information

- Foolish remarks that Quackity seems like the kind of guy who would make a lot of enemies, and gives him a set of Netherite armor

- Speaking of making enemies, Quackity takes Foolish over to the lake to look out at Wilbur and Tommy’s headquarters. Someone paid them a visit

Quackity: “Have you ever met...Wilbur?”

- Foolish hasn’t. Tommy told him a bit. Quackity points out an empty spot in Las Nevadas where he wants something done. He tells Foolish he just paid a visit to an old friend and he went unprotected, so the Netherite is a good idea

- Only two people have just given Quackity armor, and one of them is Quackity’s “right hand man” at the moment: Sam. Foolish mentions Sam screwed him over with L’Sandburg

- Quackity points out Eret’s cobblestone ocean pyramid. This country needs more citizens, more things built

- He shows Foolish the gambling machine and gives him diamonds to try out. Foolish wins Linda! 

- Their objective with Las Nevadas is to build the biggest, most powerful country, and Quackity’s read his fair share of Sun Tzu. He’s actually helped run a country before, which Foolish is surprised to learn (countries are before Foolish’s time)

- Quackity says he’ll talk to Foolish soon and leaves for a couple minutes before returning. He asks for PVP lessons, but Foolish hasn’t done much fighting for a while

Quackity: “I do all my fighting through dialogue, if you haven’t noticed...That’s my biggest weapon, Foolish, it’s the way I say things, everything, all that. But I think, you know, given what could come of all this...”

Foolish: “I was gonna say, I don’t know if that will work forever...unless you’re very, very good with your words, eventually you’ll say the wrong words.”

- Quackity suggests they make their own lookout outpost 

- Quackity has some plans to show Foolish, a project he thought of when he was thinking about making Las Nevadas. His first plan was to build a highway system

Quackity: “They say all roads lead to Rome...in this case, all roads lead to Las Nevadas.”

- He shows Foolish some sign ideas and Foolish says it would be no problem to build up some roads

- Quackity shows Foolish an old idea for a path with rail lines on both sides, layouts for advertisements

- The first place Quackity thinks the road should go is the Spawn area, for when someone joins or dies. Quackity is annoyed that Tubbo blocked the route, but they can go around it

- They plan out the path of the road. Foolish asks if Quackity wants the road to go to Kinoko Kingdom. Quackity goes silent before saying he wants to focus on the main attractions right now

- Quackity leaves again to go check some things

Foolish: “When you choose a side, there’s always other sides...which means I can’t be buddy-buddy with everyone forever.”

- Foolish does the boat slime jump. Quackity comes back with food and continues to discuss plans. Besides connecting everyone, they also need to make cash off of this highway, so he wants to make sure there’s plenty of advertisement

- L’manburg is destroyed, but it also has a lot of history. Quackity’s noticed no one’s really claimed that area. Wilbur and Tommy are neighboring them now. Foolish asks if they’re enemies...Quackity says he’ll explain that in a bit

Quackity: “We can make L’manburg a main tourist area.”

- Foolish knows a few people might be against that. Anyone from L’manburg, maybe. Quackity reminds him he was in the cabinet, and proceeds to tell him the story of Wilbur:

---

When Quackity joined the server, L’manburg was the biggest nation. Quackity asked to join, and he was declined because he wasn’t British -- the one requirement. He didn’t like this, he felt left out, he wanted to be a part of something.The election rolled around, it was SWAG vs. POG.

(They walk over to the ruins of L’manburg)

Wilbur was going to run a “democratic” election with only one option available to vote for, which Quackity didn’t think was very democratic.

(Quackity gets interrupted by George calling him)

Each party had a Vice President. Foolish assumes that Wilbur’s was Tommy...and Quackity’s was George. Quackity points out King’s Court to Foolish in the sky, the place they had their debate. After their debate, Quackity and Wilbur had a talk, a conversation that stuck with him for a very long time.

Then it was Election Day. What happened was, each party had sponsors. Who endorsed Tommy and Wilbur?

Vikkstar.

Tommy accidentally posted the Vikkstar endorsement video in the Discord before deleting it seven seconds later, but that was still enough time for George to get the link and send it to Quackity, and Quackity needed the one person who could match that endorsement: KSI.

Unfortunately, KSI never replied, as it was quite last-minute. 

That’s when the turning point happened, and Quackity calls it the worst day of his life. George slept through the event. Quackity had no endorsements, no Vice President. The other party was going strong -- but they made a mistake. Their second endorsement was Schlatt. However, Schlatt arrived drunk, and instead of endorsing Wilbur and Tommy, he made his own party on the spot. SCHLATT2020. Not only this, but Niki and Fundy also made their own party too: COCONUT2020. 

The votes go out. POG2020 wins. But, Quackity had an idea, to pool votes with Schlatt. They ended up with 1% more votes than POG, and that’s how Quackity ended up as Vice President of the country. However, this was a big mistake. The policies Schlatt enacted were to exile Tommy and Wilbur, took down the walls, changed up things -- and to be fair, Quackity did join him on this. He was down with taking down the walls. Everything started going downhill. Schlatt would constantly undermine Quackity’s Vice Presidency, his policy ideas, and he did the worst thing to Quackity -- took down the White House that Quackity, Wilbur and Tommy built together. 

Schlatt didn’t care. He started teaming up with bad folks like Dream, other people, and the rest is history. Imagine everything that had to happen to lead to this...

(he gestures to L’manhole)

Foolish: “Do you regret it all?”

Quackity: “...No.”

Foolish: “So, you would’ve let it all go the exact same way, down to Wilbur blowing it all up?”

Quackity: “I wouldn’t have changed a damn thing, Foolish...And let me tell you why...All these mistakes, all these things, have made me the person I am now, Foolish. All these experiences, all these bad moments in my life, have made me the man I am today.”

“And you never...you never mess with history. Because everything happens for a reason, Foolish. Everything happens for a reason. You don’t ever pander with history, you don’t ever try to turn it around or change it, because the way things happen are the way things happen at the end of the day. And that’s how we build character. I wouldn’t have Las Nevadas if not for all these...for all these...mistakes, maybe.”

After that, something happened with Wilbur. Quackity didn’t know much about it, but he changed. He was so obsessed with his country that if he couldn’t have it, no one could. He blew up the entire thing, and in that process he ended up dying, and that’s when Ghostbur came to be.

So many more things happened (Foolish finds out that this crater isn’t just from Wilbur), but...it is what it is.

“And if you dwell in the past, you’ll live in suffering your entire life. So take it from me, Foolish. Take in all the experiences you’ve ever had, and apply them to something greater than what you used to be. Take one last gander at...the country that never was.”

---

- Quackity shows Foolish his old house under Karl’s. He’s not seen Karl in a while. He sees that it’s been blown up, and there’s an old message to him from Sam. He’s not sure what happened.

- Quackity shows Foolish the message. Just as he’d said, Sam had given him Netherite armor once. Sam has a good heart. It’s in the right place, he just needs some guidance.

- He leads Foolish down the Prime Path, showing him the other buildings. He takes Foolish over to the museum. 

- They look at the maps and discuss routes again. Foolish asks about a road to the prison, and Quackity says improving his “commutes” would be nice 

- Quackity is glad Foolish is taking the chance on Las Nevadas. Quackity has to leave to address some business, but he’ll get on to help Foolish build the roads later. 

- Foolish goes back to Las Nevadas, looking out over at Wilbur and Tommy’s headquarters.

Foolish: “It’s kinda been a while since I’ve really had enemies enemies...but I have the feeling that is gonna change soon enough...Maybe not even enemies, but certainly not friends. Kind of a shame, though, I’ve yet to really meet Wilbur...”

- He gets out his shulker box from an Ender Chest and looks inside. There is a stack of TNT.

“It’s been a while...”

- Niki is at the Arctic. Wilbur is back. She thought she got rid of him and doesn’t know why he’s back now, in the only place she feels safe

Niki: “Who are you going to manipulate next, huh? Because it’s not gonna be me this time! It’s not gonna be me this time.”

- Tommy? Tubbo? Jack? Jack wouldn’t fall for it. Niki is upset that Wilbur didn’t check up on her. Why would he change? He never changes or cares

- Why would Dream revive him? Dream was his enemy, but at the end he was pretty fond of him

- Niki heads back through the Nether to her secret city. Now the world revolves around Wilbur again

- She still hasn’t finished her city and hasn’t been able to sleep. She goes to a chest to find the diamonds Wilbur once gave her

- Niki saw the TNT when she broke the wall, but she didn’t tell anyone, covered it back up. But Wilbur still blew it up anyway

- Niki puts the diamonds in a chest buried deep in the wall and covers it back up

- She goes back to the main area, to L’manburg. When she was in Manberg, Wilbur promised that he would get her out of there, and she waited weeks. And then Wilbur wasn’t the same person anymore

- Niki thought maybe while Wilbur was still alive, he could still be rescued, could still be happy

Niki: “But you will never be happy, because all you want is what you can’t have. And when you have everything...what will you fight for?”

- Niki wants to see him, ask why he never came back to her. She walks back to the Nether portal and the stream ends

- Bad shows up to L’Sandburg and notices L’Llamaburg next door. He’s upset about the new castle and wonders why Foolish would allow this, as it violates the agreement

- He reads the purpose of L’Llamaburg and is enraged. There’s only one option, and that’s war. He sets fire to the walls of L’Llamaburg, builds an extension on top of his tower to make it taller than Puffy’s build, and builds a giant sign saying “LIAR” 

- After visiting the main area to get some resources, he meets Antfrost on the Prime Path, who has a new skin for pride month! 

- Bad goes to the Arctic to bake a cake for Technoblade’s birthday. After finishing it, he leaves a letter requesting Techno’s assistance:

---

Dear Technoblade,

Greetings on this fine evening. I hope this letter finds you well and I hope your polar bears are doing excellent. It is with my sincerest apoligies that I disturb your peace but I must inquire about possibly obtaining your services. 

Important matters aside I have built a delicious giant cake for you in honor of your birthday. I hope this cake finds you well and may you have many excellent birthdays to follow. If you would be interested in possibly destroying my enemies for me and salting the earth they call home so that they never find happiness again that would be most kind. If you would like to discuss this matter further you know where to find me.

Kindest Regards BBH

---

- Later, Captain Puffy hears of this brewing war and comes online. She confronts Bad about the missing tower from her castle. Bad insists it wasn’t him, it was Ponk

- Puffy reminds Bad of Puffy and Ponk’s conflict from a while ago in which they destroyed each others builds, and says it’s only fair that, if Ponk really did destroy the tower, then she should destroy Ponk’s fridge

- Bad tries to reason with Puffy to not retaliate, while Puffy thinks tearing down the fridge would be doing the place a favor

- Bad brings up the buffer zone violation and they start arguing with each other over Foolish’s land, the turtles, Puffy blames Bad for killing her son, one thing leads to another and soon enough Puffy tells Bad that his L’Sandburg llama citizens are all into BDSM

- They go to the turtle enclosure and see Ponk’s ransom note. Bad says Ponk has to die. Puffy points out they could start with the fridge, and Bad says they should take his other arm. Ponk stole Shelly, they have to kill him

- Puffy gets angry at Bad not wanting to take down the fridge and brings up the death of her son again, how she thought Bad was going to turn over a new leaf at the Banquet and then that leaf ended up covered in blood instead

Puffy: “I should have taken your goddamn arm, Bad!”

- After talking more, the two finally work together to take down the supreme fridge

- Once finished, the two write a return note to Ponk. Bad wants to discuss things with Ponk, and there’s a place in Las Nevadas that he thinks would be good to meet

The note reads:

---

Dear Ponk,

It has come to our attention that you’ve been responsible for some heinous crimes!

Not only did you completely demolish Puffy’s original mushroom house which she let slide. You now have destroyed a tower of her sand castle. BUT IT DOESN’T STOP THERE!

WHERE IS SHELLY PONK!? You’ve not only commited crimes against Puffy but Bad as well! You’ve kidnapped Bad & Sheldon’s dearest Shelly for ransom!

So me and Bad decided to return the favor and give you a taste of your own disgusting medicine!

YOU’RE FRIDGE NO LONGER SUPREME! YOU’VE MESSED WITH THE WRONG MUFFINS AND TAKEN OUR KINDNESS FOR WEAKNESS TOO MANY TIMES!

We all need to talk immediately before this escalates more then it already has.

Leave a book back giving us a time and a place and we will try to attend.

You’ve been warned!

With love, BBH & PuffDaddy

---

- Bad still wants Puffy to move L’Llamaburg, but Puffy wants to stay and protect her son. Bad suggests an alliance: what if L’Sandburg and L’Llamaburg simply combine their territories? It would be beneficial for both nations

- Puffy is skeptical about Bad’s idea and decides that relocating is probably the smartest idea, as Ponk will probably retaliate against her

---

Upcoming Events:

- The final Egg lore stream

- Technoblade’s visit (this weekend)

- Puffy’s lore

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

- Ponk’s lore stream

- Dream’s lore video

- Sapnap’s possible lore stream

- Awesamdude lore stream

[internalsealpanic]

Sealing the Deal part 1

Summary: Always, always be nice to sea creatures but never ever accept their pelt.

  A/n: A fic I’ve been meaning to write since forever. My contribution to mermay.

  warning: Disgusting fluff and bad decisions

Main Masterlist

part 2

You look like you're gonna die from boredom in your little fishing boat. 

 Dick rolls over to where Jason was sprawled and used his momentum to push the larger seal into the water. Jason gives an undignified squawk of outrage. Dick just preens and looks smug. 

 You cup your hand over your mouth as you begin to laugh. 

 Jason glares even harder at Dick. Dick... couldn't care even less if he tried. All he can focus on is the wrinkle in the corners of your eyes. They'd been gone for so long these past few months. It felt like the first ray of sun after a long storm.

 Dick claps his fins in excitement even as Jason snuffs and rolls his eyes. You clap in return but accidentally drop your fishing pole into the sea. Reaching for it, you fall into the water. Dick feels a little bad for laughing but you manage to get yourself back up into the boat safely.  You sigh in defeat as your fishing pole drifts away. Dick notices for the first time that your face has grown gaunt from the last few weeks. Are you eating enough? Are you even taking care of yourself? Dick swims over to your boat as it rocks back and forth on the waves. He hops in easily and plops onto your stomach. You laugh and pet his head. It was a weak laugh so he croons at you in question. 

 “Sorry pup, I don’t have any food for you today. I mean I don’t even have any for me.” Despite the sweet timbre of your voice, Dick can still taste the bitter hopelessness in the statement. 

He nuzzles his face into your chest. He can feel just how thin you’ve gotten. He has to do something about this. 

To say Dick had been afraid of humans would be a monumental understatement. It had been around 200 years since humans had left the island and the first thing they did when they came back was hunt down selkies. Dick's parents had been two of the unlucky few who'd been hunted down.

 So when Dick found himself stranded onshore because of a fin tangled in a fishing line, he thought he was a goner. And when he saw you approaching; well, he still thought he was fucked but he thought you'd at least be nicer than the adults.

 Maybe if he acts cute enough you'll spare him. 

 Dick whimpered and he gave you the big innocent look. 

 You shushed him harshly. Dick flinched then you flinched and muttered apologies.

 You approached him slowly. You looked around before crouching and fiddling with the line Dick had managed to get himself caught in. Carefully, you began to disentangle him. It hurt, especially when you took the hook out, but once he was free. He clapped and trilled before you shushed him again.

 Dick thought that it was all over and he could just roll back into the sea until you scoop him up and swaddle him in your shirt.

 After 10 minutes of your father screaming at you, he agreed to treat Dick who knew better than to snap at him. Your father was kind with gentle hands. He worked on Dick while you fed him fish. It wasn't the best fish but  Dick can't complain. 

 After an hour or so, Dick started to wriggle and you pull him closer to your chest. 

 "Dad, can we keep him for a few days? He might still be sick." You plead with big eyes. 

 Your father glared at you then sighed. "No more than two. His wounds just need to close up, understand?"

 You squealed a little. Hugging Dick tighter, you thanked your father before scampering off to find you a basin to put Dick in. You, thankfully, had the good sense to fill it with lukewarm water.

 Dick lived like a king in those two days. You fed him a lot of fish much to your dad's exasperation. You kept him warm. You even read to him and sang songs to him. 

 Dick wanted to stay but he missed Bruce, Alfred, Damian, and maybe that new kid Jason.

On the fourth day (one of the wounds was deeper than expected), Dick was released back into the sea but he never did manage to stay away after that

Dick sets the odd little trinket down in front of Jason's sleeping form. It was something you'd caught in your net days before along with the meager amount of fish you'd managed to net. You'd busied yourself with it for days before throwing it out. Dick wasn't sure what it was; all he knew was that it was something Jason would like. 

 He waits semi patiently for Jason to notice it, nudging it forward a little until it touches Jason's snout and the larger seal is forced to pay attention to Dick. 

 "I know when I'm being bribed, Dickface." Jason says, glaring. 

 Dick volleys it with a wide-eyed hopeful look. He nudges the little trinket forward again. This time, instead of ignoring him, Jason rises to his full height, teeth bared. This... does not faze Dick. 

 "C'mon Jaaaaaaay," Dick says as if the prolonging of syllables would whittle down Jason's irritation. Jason suspects if he were less inclined to tell Dick to fuck off, it would have worked. Probably. But as it stands, Dick is responsible for ruining a very good, very rare nap for Jason and so he's on the shit list and has lost any favor privileges until further notice. 

 "I said no. Go away or ask Bruce."

 "But Jaaaaaaay, it's just a teensy tiny favor. It won't even take an hour. Not with your skill at least."

 "That kind of flattery may work on Harper and it may even work on West but I'm not an idiot about to get involved with whatever shenanigans you have planned with the human."

Dick lets out a long-suffering sigh. Jason isn't stupid enough to think that Dick has actually given up. No, the stubborn little fuck is worse than a barnacle. "You've left me no choice-"

 "I have given you plenty of choices. Most of them involve minding your own goddamn business." Jason says with a little snuff. 

 "-I'm calling it in."

 Jason narrows his eyes at Dick.

 "Don't you dare. That was 5 years ago."

 Dick smiles, evilly. "Unless you want the rest of the family to know about-" 

 "Fine! What do you want?"

 Dick looks smug. Jason wants to bite his face off. 

 "I need you to help me catch fish."

 Jason looks at him, incredulous. "Did you hit your head or something?"

 "Not recently. Look, I just need you to help me catch fish for the human." Dick explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Contrary to what Dick seems to think, Jason really isn't concerned with the one human on the island. Most of the selkies on the island have barely even interacted with you outside of staring at you.

 "You're insane."

 "I think we reserve that term for Bruce." 

 Jason raises his head from the ground. "You're not wrong."

   You think you hear the light pitter-patter of raindrops. You sigh. You would be lying if you say you aren't the least bit thankful for the excuse to stay indoors today. You... don't exactly like foraging for food. You had avoided it for as long as you had food in the lighthouse. You thought it would at least last you 'til the ships came in but whatever is going on in the mainland has kept the ships from your shores. You don't mind. You never did find the sailors all that pleasant on the rare occasions that you did have to interact with them. 

 You like your island the way it is but... you're not exactly the most skilled at hunting... or fishing. You have no idea how your father did it. You chucked it up to the miracles of loaves and fishes. You miss him.

 You curl around your pillow in a vain attempt to chase the wakefulness away but the sun in your eyes was too bright. You flutter your eyes open. The sun had the audacity to be there. Still the splushing sound continued. 

 You strain your ears to listen, trying to make heads or tails of it. It was a squishy sound, the sound of putty hitting stone over and over again. You scramble to the front door. In hindsight, you probably should have grabbed a weapon before running towards the strange sound. 

 Opening the door, you're greeted with the sight of a familiar seal caught red-handed with a fish in his mouth.

 You stare at each other for a long moment before your eyes wander down to a pile of fish. A large amount of fish. Laughter rolls from your lips, musical and manic as you bury your face in your hands.

You think the seal furrows his brow at you, dropping the fish in its mouth before plopping towards you. Plop. Plop. Plop. He looks at you with big dark eyes. Your mouth twitches between curling down into a frown and a smile that spread across your face. On one hand, you are confused. On the other hand, you were gonna be able eat some meat. 

 A concerned croon comes from the pup and your face decides that it would rather smile at the moment. You throw your arms around him, not at all caring about the seawater getting on your nightclothes.

 "Thank you." You whisper and the seal answers with a happy trill.

 Dick is over the moon. 

 He can't even help how loud his trills get. It's ok you don't seem to mind either. He's just happy that you get to eat now.... but you don't. 

 Dick's a little frustrated when you don't immediately start digging in. Instead, you go back inside your home, swear, shout in delight then come back out with a basin and a jar of white powder. You then run around to fill the basin with seawater then add what Dick finds out is salt into the seawater. 

 Dick is... concerned. 

 You go back inside the house. When you come out again, you have a knife in your hand. Dick waddles back a bit. He knows you won't hurt him but it's a habit. You develop these kinds of habits around Bruce. 

 You settle yourself onto the ground cross-legged and grab a fish. Dick looks on with mild curiosity. You begin to dismember the fish by cutting off it's head, cutting it up in the middle then removing the bones and stomach. That kind of makes sense, Dick thinks. The bones are kind of annoying. Dick nods his head agreeably until you toss the fish into the basin.

 Dick looks on in utter confusion as you repeat the process with most of the fish he's brought you. 

 You turn to him looking equally befuddled before your eyes soften. You look sheepish. "Sorry pup, I can't eat all of this today so I'm salting them so I can eat them the next few..." You count the fish in the basin. "... weeks."

 Dick tilts his head but doesn't say anything. You really should just eat more. Dick can get you more if you need it. You just need to ask but you seem content with what you're doing. 

Dick is about to rest his head on your lap when you shoot up and scuttle back inside. You return with a line and a smile. Dick watches you string the fish up like laundry. He could probably help you but he has no clue if he should. Just eat the fish damn it.

Finally after what felt like forever, you start preparing the fish and actually eat. You offer Dick some and Dick has to admit cooking the fish does taste odd but not unpleasant. It's totally different from eating it raw (the better way) but it's not horrible. Or maybe it just tastes good because you've got the biggest grin on your face while eating.

Maybe.

 Probably, Dick thinks as he munches on his fish, pressed to your side.

___

 You sing at the top of your voice. It's a cheerful song but Dick can't quite make out the words. He knows it's human but he's not quite familiar with it. The tune is nice though. Dick rests his head on your lap closing his eyes.

 He croons happily when you being to pet him.

 You stop midway through the song dissolving into a fit, of what Dick can only describe as, giggles snorts. It was a despicably adorable sound that was engineered to make Dick feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

 He looks up at you with big curious black eyes. He's not complaining but he hasn't heard you laugh this much before and he may or may not want to know how to make you laugh like this again.

 When you don't answer his questioning gaze, Dick nudges against your chest. Your shoulders are still shaking but you manage to stop laughing for a moment. 

 "Sorry pup," you say wiping a tear from your eye, "I must look crazy to you. "

 A little but not as bad as Bruce, Dick thinks. Bruce thinks you humans still don't know there are selkies on the island. Dick snorts at the idea. Everyone knows that all you humans know about selkies. That's why those men keep coming here trying to trap them. 

 You squish his face affectionately with your hands. "My dad taught me that song and  I just realized..." Your mouth turns into a curved line of held back laughter. "...It's a sea shanty about missing being between a woman's legs." The last few words come out more as giggles than proper syllables but Dick can't enjoy that because he can feel his face warm up from the thought. He hides his face in his flippers. 

 You squeal, absolutely delighted with his mortification. Smiling down at him, you say: "Yanno pup, sometimes I think you understand me."

 Thought process-wise, no.

 Dick snuggles up to you again, blowing air out of his nose to voice his ascent. You can't just say things like that but again, you just simply seem amused by his suffering when you bend down to press a kiss to the top of his head. 

 Dick looks up when you pull away. No! Give him more!

 Dick stretches up to return the favor, having to partially climb on your lap but only managing to boop your nose with his snout. You nuzzle your nose against his and Dick makes the happiest noise in the back of his throat.

   Sometimes after wandering around you had a habit of falling asleep on the shore which Dick thought was fine until he found out that you couldn't swim. Dick being the only with brains in this duo always nudges you awake when the tide starts getting too close. Dick doubts the lapping water will wake you up before sweeping you away. After all, you managed to sleep through Tim, Kon, and Bart's rock piling contest on top of you. Dick shooed them away but even after cleaning up, you didn't wake up.

 Dick sees the sailors on the shore and nudges you. You... don't even blink. You hum, content to bask in the sun as you wrap your arms around Dick. Dick huffs. He likes this but he really would prefer it if you move. Dick considers slipping from your grip and grabbing a fish to slap you with like last time.

 Dick cranes his head to look at the ship again. It was far too close now, too close for you to get away without being seen by the sailors. 

 Dick turns you back over to your back and proceeds to body slam you with all his blubber. He winces when you make a choked noise. Dick can give you apology fish later. 

 "Pup, what the fuck?"

 You see the ship. Your eyes widen then flicker to his injured fin. Dick had injured it when he’d been swimming by the docks and got caught in one of the old traps. You’ve done your best to help it heal but you only know so much. You’re still reading up on herbs in case it happens again.  

 You try in vain to push him off but he's a big loveable sack of blubber and he refuses to move.  “C’mon pup, you need to move. They’ll try to catch you if they see you.” You grunt but the sack of blubber refuses to move. 

 You and Dick stay still as the ship draws near, neither of your chests rises or fall as the ship rocks back and forth.

The ship passes and you let your head fall back with a sigh. 

 Dick nuzzles his snout against your face, his whiskers tickling your face. You giggle and try to push him off. It’s useless so you let him stay there. 

 You both decide to take a nap on the shore with Dick huffing in your face once in a while as he snores. 

You curl up on the floor in front of the fire, watching the embers flicker, flash, and fade. It's the best thing you can do to calm your fraying nerves. The storm rages outside violently as if it was trying to tear the lighthouse down brick by brick. The whole building shakes with another boom of thunder. You close your eyes and burrow under the thick blanket. 

 In the back of your mind, your father is chuckling. The absence of a hand on your head is disconcerting. You remind yourself that it won't come, that you'll have to learn to weather the storm alone. You sigh then tighten the blanket around you.

Tok. Tok. Tok. 

 You blink. The fire was dying. When had you fallen asleep? 

 Tok, tok, tok. 

 Blinking, you rub the sleep from your eyes, but the haze doesn’t lift, only growing as you watch the firelight.  

 Tok tok tok. 

 You shoot up and barrel towards the door with the frantic knocking growing louder and louder as your feet pound against the stone floor.  

 You run into the door in your haste. The loud thud of your body against the door causes the frantic knocks to turn into muffled shouting.

 Prying yourself from the door, you open it and you don't know what you expected but this wasn't it.

 Standing in front of you was a man soaked like a wet rat. You blink in confusion before pulling him inside. You run to grab him a blanket. Wait. You should probably get him a towel. No, wait. You should have gotten his name first. Fuck. 

 You shuffle back into the room with a towel, spare clothes, and an extra blanket. You.. what can generously be called a heart attack. 

 For the first time, in the soft glow of the fire, you can fully admire your guest. Not see, admire because there was a lot to admire.

 The light of the fire flicking over the planes of his chest, with a light dusting of chest hair, the amber glow highlighting all the muscles of his body, framing the ripples of his toned figure. Swallowing any good sense you have, you watch the rainwater turn golden as it drips down his perfectly bronzed skin. The water cuts through valleys of muscle that could have only been handcrafted by gods. Your eyes follow the flow until... Oh.

 You flush furiously, your face glowing brighter than the fire. He's- He's- Oh my god, he's naked. 

 You reign your eyes in. Ok, you let it linger down there a bit. Not long enough for your guest to notice. You concentrate on his face which wasn't hard to do. The man pushes his raven hair out of his face letting you fully appreciate his face. In keeping with his body, his fine boned face looked like Pygmalion himself spent hours shaping it, not satisfied until he's made the perfect face. It's handsome in an adorable way. Not intimidating. It's the kind of face you'd like to pepper with kisses. You try not to focus on his lips in case of any sinful thoughts. You just met the man. The only thing you will note is that yes, his lips do look absolutely kissable and it aggravates you. 

 The most striking feature however are his deep blue eyes. The kind of deep that you feel like you could drown in. The kind of depth that looked too pretty to agonize over the fact that your lungs are burning. You stare, trying to carve a perfect replica of those eyes into your mind. Those eyes... that are currently staring at you... as he steps closer... at an alarming speed.

 You hold the stack of fabric in front of you like a shield. Your guest stops, looking at the stack. His face goes from concern to confusion to blinding enthusiasm. He was probably freezing.

 A smile spreads on his face, the cutest dimples you've ever seen forming on his cheeks, as he accepts the stack. He thanks you and your heart leaps from your chest. Whatever chill you were experiencing from the storm was completely gone. You turn away from him, rubbing the back of your neck and mumbling a halfway point between 'no problem' and 'you're welcome'. You hope it came out as 'no welcome' instead of  'your problem'.

 The man snorts and you are pretty sure which one came out. To save yourself the embarrassment, you walk to the kitchen and start preparing tea. The man thankfully occupies himself by looking at the assortment of knick-knacks you've hoarded gathered over the years. It gives you ample time to breathe.

 "Do you like sugar in your tea?"

 The man nods enthusiastically. You can't help but smile a little. 

 You sit next to him in front of the fireplace as you hand him his mug. He leans his head against your shoulder. You can feel his body radiating a comforting heat. 

 You two sit in silence, sipping tea and watching the fire flicker. You wanna scold him for slurping his tea. You're not exactly his mother. You don't even know his name. 

 You turn to him, face scrunched and about to ask him for his name when he surges forward. His lips brush against your lips as he nudges his nose against yours. You fall backward in shock and the stranger falls on top of you, his eyes still glowing bright and cool against the amber light.

 There's a thrill working up your spine or is it fear? You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your arms over your face. 

 "Please don't hurt me." You plead barely above a whisper. 

 You feel the body above you lower itself on top of you. He chuckles and shakes his head. "(Y/n), you're being silly."

 You open your eyes. The man is laying his body on top of you keeping you pinned down and he's... pouting at you?

 "I- I don't know who you are. You can take what you want but please don't hurt me."

 The pout deepens into a frown.

 "(Y/n), I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't you recognize me?" 

 You blink. You would definitely remember someone this eye-catching.  "You always sing that sea shanty to me. The one about the sailor who misses his wife's..." The stranger flushes and makes a hand gesture. Your face scrunches again. The only person you've sung that to aside from your dad is...

 "Pup?!"

 His frown morphs back into a pout. "I'm not even that little."

 You squish his face with your hands before you let your mind wander. You think back to the scars crisscrossing his limbs and chest.  "How is this possible?"

 He laughs, prying your hands from his face. "I'm a selkie," He says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "My name is also Dick, not pup."

 You stare up at him wide-eyed and stupefied. Dick snuggles against you like he always does. Somehow snuggling you in this form is better. He can hold you closer like this. You run your hand through his hair, fingers lacing through the tangles in his hair. He lets out an excited trill. 

 Dick might just be in heaven right now. 

 "I dunno how but you're somehow even prettier when I look at you in this form," Dick breathes contently. "I'm so lucky to have such a pretty wife."

 You stiffen. Dick looks up at you and the confusion in your face wrenches a knife in his heart. He swallows. "That is what you meant with this, right?" Dick asks, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Your mouth turns into various shapes trying to piece together a coherent response. It settles on the simplest one. "No."

 Dick looks stricken like you'd taken a club to his head. 

 You reel back. "I just- I- I thought you were cold and you-"

 Dick's heartaches. It's a dull ache. He thought this kind of thing would be sharp like having a hook pierce your heart.

 His insides twist as he peels of you. 

 Your stomach sinks as you feel the cold fill your body once more. You don’t want him to go. The thought of being alone right now makes your stomach curdle. Your hands grip his shirt without meaning to. The look on his face hurts but the idea of him leaving felt unbearable. You know it's selfish but here you are begging him not to leave. 

 "Dick, I'm sorry... I didn't know... I-" 

 Thunder booms. You squeak and bury your face in his chest. You can't stand storms.

 Dick smiles down at you softly. It's still pained but it's bearable.

 He lays on his side and pulls you closer. He slots your face into his neck. You're still shivering even when he uses his body to shield you from the rest of the world.

 You whisper another apology.

 Dick shushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The sunlight floods into the room like it does every morning but the room is still cold. Your mind works to understand what's wrong with this picture. Your hand pads beside you. The space next to you is empty save for the blanket left behind.

 You sniffle, gripping the sheet in your hand. You messed up, you think, pulling it to your face. For the first time in months, the tears come easily. You lay there all day because the tears won't stop.

   "If you sigh one more time, I am going to rip your throat out." Jason growls not bothering to open his eyes. Why would he? Dick has been flat and mopey for the past two weeks and Jason is really starting to miss his hyperactivity. 

 Dick lets out another mopey sigh. Jason. Is. Going. To. Scream. 

 "Can't you be depressing in Roy's direction? Or Bruce's?" 

 Dick sighs even louder at the mention of Bruce and Jason, for once, is considering murder or at least maiming. 

 "She doesn't love me back."Dick sniffles and Jason really should have known this had something to do with you. 

 He turns to Dick. "I'm going to regret asking but how do you know that?" The sooner he sorts Dick out, the sooner he gets to sleep. "Did she tell you to go away and never come back?"

 "Well no-"

 It's Jason's turn to sigh. "You fucking moron, What did she even say?"

 "She said she didn't know." Dick lowers his head to the sand and Jason wants to slap him with his tail. 

 Jason is now fully awake and very ready to throttle Dick. Or he's just cranky. "Are you telling me Bruce was right?! This day just keeps getting worse."

 Something seems to click in Dick's brain. "Oh, crap Bruce is right." He mutters stupidly. 

Jason will take whatever consolation he can get out of this. "She probably thought you were just some random pervert flashing her then." Jason snickers. It's petty and childish but so is interrupting a well-deserved nap.

 "What?"

 Jason lets out an exasperated huff through his snout. He twists his body to look at Dick with minimal effort to lift his head.  "Let's see, you turned up naked at her door and then you called her your wife and nearly kissed her in what?  The space of 15 minutes?"

 "I got confused." Dick sputters. 

"Geez, I thought West was bad but you're just a disaster," Jason chuckles, "Oh! And you made the brilliant decision to leave without explanation," Jason is having far too much fun rubbing salt in the wound.  "She probably feels terrible”.

 "Are you guilt-tripping me?"

 "Is it working?"

 "What-" Dick growls. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

 "Hmmmmm, have you tried talking? Yanno the thing Bruce never does. But seriously, I can’t believe you call her your wife and then abandon her." Jason shakes his head. "And you have the audacity to call yourself the smart one."

 Dick strips out of his skin and begins running towards the lighthouse... naked.

 Jason debates on letting him.... he probably shouldn't.

"Dickface!" Jason calls out. 

 Dick doesn't stop, face crumpled in determination and his little Richard swinging wildly as he walks. 

 Jason is gonna die of second-hand embarrassment. 

 "DICKFACE!"

 "What?!" Dick asks turning around his hands on his hips. Like usual, his hip tilts to the side and his foot taps as he waits expectantly for Jason to gather a mildly coherent response. 

 "Your little Richard..." Jason says pointing with his fin.

 Dick looks down and the look of mortification on his face is satisfactory. ".... Right. Shit."

 "Just steal some from her laundry."

  "But she'll be pissed."

 "Ok, so you would rather flash her then?"

 Dick sighs and this time Jason doesn't have the urge to throttle him only because Dick is already beating his own ego into a pulp. "I hate it when you make sense."

 Jason raises a brow, setting his head back down to the warm sand.  "I always make sense."

 Dick just cackles in response as he heads to the lighthouse.

Dick shifts his weight on the balls of his feet. He feels sick like he'd eaten one of those pickled fish you made him one time.  Maybe this was a bad idea. Why did he even listen to Jason? He flips onto his hands and begins to pace.  His stomach feels like it's being tossed violently by ocean currents. It feels like a shapeless lump sitting in the pit of his abdomen. Maybe you're out or maybe you never wanna see him again.

 Your face had been so blown wide with shock when he had called you wife that it looked almost foreign like the suggestion had been so audacious that your face had to reconstruct itself to accommodate the shock. 

 Dick puts a hand to his face trying to stem the flow of thought. He was such an idiot. Why did he assume you would love him like that and why did he just leave you? Dick closes his eyes and breathes. He'll knock just once more then leave if you don't answer.

 Tok.   Tok.   Tok. 

 The knocks register just above a whisper. He thinks you don't hear it. 

 He lets out a breath and walks away. This was stupid. He should never have come back. 

 Jason was right. Fuck. Dick buries his face as he walks away.

 Distantly, Dick hears the squeak of rusty hinges but it's lost in the tempest of thoughts plaguing his mind, in all the little hurts from that night. 

 "Pup?" The sound of your voice is followed by the pounding of your feet against stand. Dick's careening to the ground before he knows it as your body collides with his. 

  "Pup," you sniffle into his shirt, "it is you." 

 Dick twist in your grip so he's facing you. Your face is buried in his shirt. He strokes your hair, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. "Of course, it’s me. Who else would bug you at this hour?"

 Dick feels his shirt grow warm. You mumble an apology.

You look up to face Dick with half your face still buried in his shirt. You've clearly been crying based on how red and puffy your eyes are.  Dick's stomach churns at the dark circles under your eyes. He feels guilt stab him in the gut.  All of that combined with your generally disheveled appearance. Dick can just tell that you haven't slept well the last few days. 

 "Let's go inside and talk." You say, peeling yourself off of him. 

 Dick shakes his head, not loosening his grip on your midsection. "Let's walk around you look like you need some sun."

 You flushed and put a hand to your cheek. "Do I look that bad?" You ask absently, a shy smile creeping into your features. 

 Dick smiles at you and pushes your hair out of your face. "Never but the weather is sunny for once and we both need some air."

"So you really didn't know that the island was filled with selkies?" Dick asks, adjusting the infernal scarf you had forced him into. He insisted that he didn't need it. He could just cuddle up to you for warmth but you were equally stubborn about him wearing a coat and the wool monstrosity strangling him. 

 Your face scrunches up in confusion." I- I don't even know what that is."

 Dick stops.

 You slow down upon realizing he wasn't by your side anymore. "You... don't know what a selkie is?" He asks, his face the definition of dumbstruck. 

 You shrink into your coat." My dad wasn't interested in things like that," you shrug, "I dunno much about..." Your hand twists in a circle, reaching for the right words. 

 Dick tilts his head. That made sense. "You thought we were all just seals?"

 You nod slowly, looking like you wanna shrivel up. 

 Dick starts laughing and you look like you're a second away from throwing yourself into the water. 

 "I'm sorry," he says, flailing. He's screwing this up again. He breathes to collect himself. "I just thought it's funny that we all thought my dad was wrong about you guys not knowing."

 You rub the back of your neck. "Most of us mainlanders don't really believe in magic, yanno? It's just such a foreign concept. Kind of hard to wrap my head around it."

 "I get that." The smile on his face makes your gut twist. You fiddle with your hands. 

 "So what are selkies?"

 Dick tilts his head, not exactly sure of how to word it because how do you explain something that's been obvious to you since you can remember to someone who just found out about it a few weeks ago?

 "We're fae, I guess-" Your face twists in confusion.

 Dick needs to backtrack. "We're fae..." This is hard. "We have this human form and we have our seal forms. We switch between them using our pelt."

 Your brow knits in confusion. "Which one is your true form then?" 

 Dick wraps his arm around your waist and holds you closer as you walk along the cliff tops. He hums as he thinks. "Both?" 

 You look up at him with a weary smile. “That makes sense in a way.” You hum.  Swallowing thickly, you fiddle with your hands. "So what was with the... um..." You clear your throat. "What was with the wife thing?"

 Dick’s mouth dries.  “Well... when we want to ask someone to be our mate... we- we kind of give them our pelt and I thought it translated to human clothes…” He stammers out dumbly. 

 “Oh...oh!” Your eyes widen into a look of horror. You open and close your mouth trying to form words. “Dick, I didn’t realize , that must have - I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

 “Please don’t apologize,” Dick says and presses his lips to the top of your head.  His lips are warm and comforting. “I’ve spent so long in love with you my brain just didn’t...” Dick’s mouth twists. “It just didn’t do what it was supposed to.”

 You would definitely laugh at that last part but you’re still seeing stars from the startling confession he just hit you with. You snuggle tighter into his embrace as you look over the sea. You don’t know how to respond. You really don’t and it frustrates you. It was all just a lot to take in all at once like you’d been tossed into the sea and you’re flailing and grasping at water. 

 But if nothing else, you’re at least glad that Dick is still talking to you. 

 “If you don't mind…” Dick says carefully, the look in his eyes determined. “Would it be alright if I try and pursue you properly?” Dick braces for a no. He’s not dumb enough to be hopeful twice but he needs to ask. 

 Inevitably, you freeze. You pull his arm closer to your chest. Swallowing, you ask: “you mean like a human courtship?”

 He nods closing his eyes.  “Yes, I want to court you.” He coughs clearing his throat.

 You’re silent for what felt like the longest 30 seconds of Dick’s life. Dick cracks one eye to see you fiddling with your hair. “Uh Dick, there’s this one problem that might make that difficult…” Dick raises a brow. It wasn’t an outright rejection but it wasn’t an answer. 

 “I don't know how that works either.” You laugh nervously, burying your face in his arm. 

 “Good - then we don’t know if I’m doing it badly.” Dick beams with a blinding smile.

 You twist to look at him, the corners of your mouth twitching. “That sounds like cheating.”

 Dick snorts, “would you rather I court you the selkie way?”

 “I mean it depends. What's the selkie way?”

 “Fish.”

 Dick startles when you let out a loud bark of laughter. “Fish? You’ve already done that so many times.” You giggle.  Dick tries to wrangle his mind away from the fact that he can feel your lips through the thin fabric of the sweater. 

 “I thought it worked.” Dick sighs. He really did, but alas, miscommunication is a cruel mistress.  

 You lower your gaze trying to concentrate on the fraying needlework of his sweater. “Maybe it has.” You mumble low enough for a human not to hear. How unfortunate it is then that you’re dealing with a selkie. 

 Dick is beaming when you look up again. He nuzzles his face against yours. Dick is once again insanely, stupidly, incredibly happy. 

__________________________________________________________________________

Because neither of you knew what you were doing, Dick's attempts to court you ranged from ridiculous (a literal mountain of fish that you ended up drying, giving away to the other seals, and selling to passing ships.)  to ridiculously sweet (finding you handful of pearls).  Dick nudged a little shell overflowing with pearls and looked up at you with liquid eyes.  He could have gotten you pebbles and it would have been endearing.

 It wasn't always gifts though.

 Sometimes Dick would just sit quietly with you on the beach, snuggling against your leg as you scratched his stomach. You love the ways his squish vibrated as he purred. 

 When summer passed and it became unbearable to watch the stars outside, Dick sometimes spent nights in your lighthouse, wrapped up in your sheets or wrapped around you. It was nice having him around the house even if he was kind of a slob. You love him but he is a mess.

 You made the mistake of introducing him to tea cakes and got him addicted to November Cakes specifically. As it turns out, your cute pest has a sweet tooth and will nuzzle you into submission just for another bite.

 If you ever doubted that Dick was evil before, you now have proof.

 During the winter, Dick insisted on staying in the lighthouse to keep you warm. You wanted to point out that you had a fireplace for a reason but it was so hard to turn down hugs from him.

And because you hadn't had the heart to clean out your father's room yet and Dick clearly preferred it, you let Dick sleep next to you on your cot. You felt a bit bad but Dick was just so happy with the arrangement that you didn't want to make him go away. Besides, it was nice to wake up to his sleeping face in the morning, all sleep rumpled and drooling.

 __________________________________________________________________________

 "Hey Jay, do you have a book on selkies?" Dick asks, caterpillaring on the rock Jason is sunbathing on. 

 Jason takes the opportunity to roll down the rock and knock Dick into the sea before saying: "No." It shall be put on record that there are no drama queens in the Wayne family. 

 Dick shakes off the seawater, big puppy eyes staring at Jason. 

 Jason glares at him. He can't even let Jason have a second of smugness.  "Ask Selina."

 No one really knows where Selina came from or why she stayed (well, they had their suspicions), but if you need something you can't find easily, your best bet was to ask her and hope she doesn't ask you to do anything ridiculously hard.

 Dick hasn't had first hand experience but from what Bruce tells him, they're mostly silly things like recite poems or do a flip. He could do both those things. Well, depending on the poem. He gets tongue twisted sometimes. Hmmm, maybe he should ask if he can avoid tongue twisters so he won't bite his tongue.

 Sloughing off his coat, Dick walks towards the glowing cauldron. 

 "Still no clothes pup? You're going to give a poor girl a heart attack." Selina tsked, reappearing from one of the other cave entrances with a handful of things Dick can't recognize. 

 "Oh... I- I'm still not used to it." He says sheepishly. 

 Selina chuckles, dumping the handful of what Dick can assume is plant debris into the cauldron while before dusting her hands off.

 Dick stares at the thick vat. A bubble rises and bursts emitting what sounded like a human voice. "What is that? Should I be worried?"

 "Oh no, no, this? This is just a little soup for colds."

 "It screamed."

 "All soups scream."

 "I- anyway, I came here to ask if you have a book on selkies."

 Selina tilts her head to the side. "I believe I do-"

 "Great!"

 "Buuuut..."

 Of course, the price.

 "I brought pearls and some seashells." He says hopefully. 

 The angle of her head does not change. Though from the gleam in her eyes, she's clearly interested. 

 "Tell me why you need the book."

 Dick's thoughts halt. Should he tell Selina about you? His eyes dart to the boiling cauldron.  "... Why do you need to know?"

 Selina flourishes her hand. The book appears out of thin air."Do you want the book or not, pup?"

 Dick's nerves pinch. Why does everyone call him that? "I need it to teach someone Selkie customs." He manages.

 "Oh! The little lighthouse keeper!"

 "You know her?"

 Selina shrugs. "Do you really think I wouldn't know something going on about the islands nearby?" She pinches his cheek. "Oh little pup, I know about your little crush. You spend more time on land than you do in the sea these days. Dami's been all huffy about it."

 He has.

 "I've told you my reason." Dick says holding his hand out. 

 "Hnnnn, you have I suppose." Selina sighs.

 Dick takes the book, putting it into a waterproof pouch before gingerly putting his pelt back on. He happily caterpillars out of the cave with the pouch in his mouth. He really hopes you'll like this.

You really should just fix up another cot for Dick at this point and maybe buy him a set of clothes when you go to town. 

 "It's too cold to sleep outside." Dick whines, flattening himself against you on the bed. 

 You lift your book to look at him. Dick just gives you that wide-eyed look when he wants something. You roll your eyes,  letting him snuggle up to you.  "Dick, it is obviously summer and you're like 40% blubber." You snort. 

 Dick pouts.  "You're still gonna let me sleep here." 

 You scrunch your face up and sigh. "I can't exactly let you brace the summer cold, can I?" You say, running a hand through his hair. 

 "Eeeeeexactly." Dick says happily as snuggles into you tightly.  He nuzzles his face into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. You hum helplessly, curling into his embrace.

 "See." Dick trills with a happy grin. 

 "Are you going to be smug about it all night?" You huff, throwing a blanket over the two of you.

 "No," he says,  "you assume I can't keep being smug 'til sunrise."

 "Dork," you snicker, setting the book down. It was a book on selkie traditions that Dick had gotten you a few days ago. You devoured it the same night but you're reading it again and subtly testing things while Dick was invading your house. You hum, running your hand through his hair, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. Dick purrs against your chest. "There was a one eyed seal on the beach the other day. He was a grumpy fellow but kind of cute. Seals really are a sleepy lot. The big lug started snoozing on my lap after like 5 minutes." 

 Dick tense under your touch. He looks up at you seriously.

 "That was a selkie." Dick deadpans. 

 You stop your rambling. "What?!"

 "That grumpy one-eyed seal was a selkie." He repeats carefully. 

 Your breath stutters. "Are all of the seals on this island selkies? ALL OF THEM?" Dick is pretty sure your eyes are mounting an escape.

 "All of them, darling." Dick nods. 

 "Oh." You are so screwed. "Do you guys all talk to each other?!" You shouldn't have told that seal about your little crush. You want the mattress to swallow you up. 

 "Yes? Should I be concerned?" Dick asks, lifting his head. 

 "No! No reason!" You squeal, shaking your head.

 Dick pouts at you with suspicion. It occurs to you with some amusement that Dick is actually glaring. You wisely decide to sidestep the conversation. 

 "You guys love taking naps on people, huh?" You say, absently twining your fingers into Dick's hair. He settles his head against your chest. "That's just cus we like you." He hums. 

 A snort rips out of you. "You're just biased."

 Dick looks up at you seriously again. "We selkies like pretty things like any fae." Dick says, wrapping his arms around you more tightly. He's being petty but Dick has always been protective of you and he isn't about to stop now. Besides... he doesn't want anyone stealing you away.

 You frown at him. "Dick, there are far prettier things on this island and sweet talking won’t magically make November cakes appear." You huff, kissing the top of his head before picking up the book and using it to hide the smile shaping your lips. 

 You feel Dick pick himself up off of you. You peek over your book to watch Dick. He scoots closer to your face until the only thing separating you is the far too thin book in your hands.

 "You don't believe me, do you?"

 "No." You say. You don't mean it but it's the easiest thing to conjure up when Dick is this close. Your lips prickle from imagining Dick's lips against yours. 

 You weren't paying attention. Dick has apparently been going on a two-minute diatribe on how pretty you are and in that two minutes, Dick has managed to scoot even closer. He gently takes the book out of your hands to make sure you're paying attention. He fails to take into account the fact that his face is in fact distracting. Your eyes zero in on his very plush and very kissable lips. If you just lean forward a fraction, you could...

 Your lips feel warm and soft against Dick's, the rest of his diatribe dying in the back of his throat as his eyes flutter shut. His mind might just be melting out of his ears because the only thing he can think about is how soft you are and how perfectly your lips fit against his. 

 "I'm sorry." You whisper shyly. You should be sorry, Dick thinks. Who told you to pull away?

 You touch your fingers to your lips. Fuck, what did you just do?

 "You can do it again." Please, he almost adds. 

 You lick your lips. Dick perks up and leans closer. His heart is going to leap out of his chest. You lean closer. Dick can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. 

 You kiss Dick on the nose and pull away, hiding your lips behind your hand as you snicker. Dick scrunches his nose and blows air out of it. 

 "You know perfectly well what I meant." He huffs. 

 You lean back into your pillow, grinning at him. "I have absolutely no clue what you're on about." You say slowly, smug.

 "Let me remind you then,"A grin takes over his face. Dick leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You exchange breaths as you drink in the feeling of each other's lips. Dick caresses your sides. He feels you shiver and he smiles into your lips. "That ring any bells?"

 "Not really..." You say, flickering your eyes to him. "But if you try again... it might."

 "Oh sweetheart, I can keep reminding you all night." Dick chuckles, winking. 

 Covering your face, you attempt to hide your embarrassment. You hate how easily he flusters you. "You can't just say stuff like that." You whimper. 

 "Why not? I'm supposed to be courting you and that includes buttering you up," Dick says, nuzzling your cheek. You're just too cute.  Dick gently pries your hands away from your face. "Don't hide your face from me, Honey."

 "Oh god, you're making me regret letting you court me."

 "Never."

 ______________________________________________________________________

 Dick's eyes are struggling to remain open as he watches the fire.  He burrows further into the thick comforter you'd given him. It's not quite as warm as his pelt but the fabric is puffy and it has a sweet smell that makes his head swim. 

 Dick angles his head slightly to watch you. You've been toiling for hours and refuse to tell Dick what it is. Your back is still hunched over with your foot bouncing on the floor. Dick lets his eyes flutter shut, listening to the sound of your shuffling tools. 

 You glance down at the adorable mess dozing off on your sofa. You gently move his hair out of his face. He swats at you sleepily, face scrunched even as he sleeps. You sincerely wish you had Damian's talent for art or that you had one of those cameras. You really wish you could keep a picture of Dick's sleepy face. It's the cutest thing in the world.

 "Hey Dickie," you whisper.

 "Hmmmmm?" He groans.

 "Could you hand me your pelt?"

 "Sure," he moans, blindly padding around for it. You snort as he nearly falls off the sofa. After groping nearly every surface, he finally finds the pelt. "here you-"

 The fur brushes your fingertips before Dick stops. Dick shoots up, nearly clipping your nose with his forehead. He's looking at you fully awake, drool still hanging off the corner of his lips."Are you sure?!"

 "Hand it over coward." You smile gently at him. You try your best to fight off the excitement bubbling in your veins. 

 Dick is off the couch, his own excitement barely contained as his whole body vibrates with happiness. He sits up. You hold out your hand but instead of handing you his pelt, Dick drapes it over you like a wedding veil. It's thick and warm to the touch. You let your hands brush over the silken fur. You can feel magic thrumming from it. It feels like a minute current of electricity but it doesn't flow linearly. It ebbs and flows as it pleases, pulsing beneath your fingers. You burrow yourself in it. 

 Something warm spills in Dick's chest as he sees you wrapped up in his pelt. Dick kisses your nose. "You have now been wifed."

 You twitch your nose. "You missed."

 "Nope. Don't think so. Buuuuut if you show me where you want me to kiss you..."

 You roll your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his.  Dick smiles into it, pulling you close and savoring the sensation of your lips melding together. He makes a happy trilling noise while you laugh against his lips. 

 "That clear enough, Dickie?"  You ask, pressing your forehead against his. 

 "Yeah, I think I got it, wifey."

__________________________________________________________

THANKS FOR READING

Tag list:  @batarella​, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes​,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be​ @jadedhillon​​

[absolutelyfizzing]

Motherly

Harry x reader

Description - Y/N loves taking care of her friends but after a night of drinking it seems like they don't want her to. She worries that they might not want her around and panics. They ease her worries and harry has something to confess.

Word count - 4700 (my god that seems excessive)

Warnings - insecure reader, mentions of eating, female pronouns, some description of panic attack, underage drinking, maybe a little ooc for harry at the beginning. angst at the beginning but it turns into fluff. If you just want the heartbreak you could stop halfway through cause thats a mood and same.

A/N - I had to bring Luna into this because she is an angel and the love of my life. Harry is my favorite idiot and Ron is an angel. Anyway I'm done, just a notice that there is description of a mild panic attack, this is based on how they feel for me. The insecurities are also based on me. This is just to say that this in no way means that this writing is supposed to be universal and i in no way mean to offend.

MASTERLIST

You had been taking care of Harry for as long as you had known him. When you met him on the train you realized that you wanted to protect him and keep him safe. He had already been through enough. Unfortunately, that didn't exactly work out. Over the years you would try to help him but he inevitably found himself in deep trouble and in need of help. You were always happy to fill that role, not that you were always successful. You would do anything for him. especially once you realized that you had real and hard feelings for the young wizard. You saw him and the way he looked at other girls, you knew he didn't like you in that way. So instead of saying anything, you just didn't mention it and continued to give him your all.

You took care of all of your friends most of the time. You enjoyed being needed. That was why, while standing in the corner of the party, you were ready to step in to help any of your friends. There was almost always a party after every match and Harry normally got pretty wasted. You stayed sober most of the time so you could take care of your friends if you needed to. You had held Hermione's hair back multiple times. She partied rarely but when she did it was intense. You also liked to keep your eye on Harry who would get decidedly out of it and would often find himself passed out somewhere uncomfortable or unable to keep his dinner down. You felt his eyes on you and he made his way towards you. You could tell from looking at him that he was properly wasted. He wasn't blackout but a few more drinks and he would be. You smiled at him as brightly as you could.

"Why aren't you drinking?" He slurred. His face was contorted in confusion and you felt your smile falter for a second, not that he noticed.

"I just wanna be ready in case someone needs me. You know how 'Mione gets." You smiled and nodded over to where Hermione was passed out on the couch.

"It's not your responsibility though, you don't have to take care of everyone." He mumbled and you thought you heard anger in his voice. Like he was annoyed at you. You just looked at him with kind eyes and a questioning gaze. You tried to not look offended but you didn't know what he was implying. Before you could ask, Harry spoke again. "You act like you're the mom of the group, that you have to take care of everyone. You don't need to do that." He seemed exasperated.

"I don't mind. I like being able to help." You smiled at him, trying to explain your mindset to a very drunk harry.

"I never said you didn't like it but nobody else does. I didn't ask you to try and be my mum, okay?" He grumbled out and turned away like he hadn't just said something very upsetting to you. You felt your smile falter for a moment before you took a deep breath. It was fine. You needed to move on. You made your way to the couch Hermione was laying across and you leant down to her level. Your hand brushed the thick hair out of her face and you tried to gently wake her up.

" 'Mione? I'm gonna head up to bed, do you need anything?" You asked, sort of hoping that she would say yes. You found a lot of your purpose in others needing you and after the rejection you just faced from Harry you were hoping for someone to say they wanted you around.

Hermione's face scrunched up before her eyes opened. "No, I don't need anything. Please just leave me alone Y/N? I know you're like needy or whatever but I'm trying to have a fun night for once." She mumbled the last part under her breath but you heard it perfectly clear. You could feel your heart rate increase as you began to panic. Was this always the case? You were overly needy and you acted like it was for the benefit of others? You never wanted to make anyone feel smothered but you thought you were helping. You looked around the room desperately, trying to find someone who would confirm to you that you were important to them. That someone needed you. Your eyes met those of your best ginger friend who was sufficiently wasted. You began to walk over to him but he quickly tried to bolt out of your line of sight and you stopped in your tracks. You felt tears well up and you took a deep breath. You knew you were no longer wanted in your group of friends, at least not at a time when they were all trying to let loose. You understood and you tried not to be offended. You knew you were a lot to deal with sometimes and that your instinct to care could be smothering. You turned to the portrait hole and left the common room. You didn't know where you were planning on going but it was not going to be where you came from. If your friends needed space then you would give it to them. You just wanted them to be happiest.

You ended up wandering the halls for a long time. You didn't have a particular purpose besides just not being in the common room and you didn't want to go back until you thought most people would probably be asleep. About 2 hours after you had left, you headed back toward the portrait hole. After whispering the password you entered the now quiet room where you saw your friends and a few others passed out around the place. You sighed and pushed the bad feelings away before getting to taking care of them. Ron and Harry were near each other, propped up against the wall, cups of alcohol around them. You grabbed a couple pillows and blankets and brought them over to them. You set the pillows down and slowly maneuvered both boys so they were laying comfortably with warm blankets on top of them. You spent an extra second to brush Harry's black hair out of his face and you traced his scar lightly. You remembered his words from earlier and quickly moved away, fearing he would wake up and remind you that he didn't want you taking care of him.

You made your way to Hermione who you managed to wake a bit. She was not as grumpy as she had been earlier and you slung one of her arms over your shoulders, slowly getting both of you up the stairs and to the dorms. You placed her on her bed and removed her shoes. You then grabbed a makeup removing pad and got to work on cleaning her face. She was normally religious about her skincare routine and so you thought she might appreciate getting her face clean so she distant sleep in her makeup.

You sighed a bit as you tucked her into her bad, her eyes closed and she had drifted off to sleep a while ago. You decided that if they said anything about their distain for your mothering tendencies tomorrow, then you would stop. You hoped though that their words were only spoken because they were drunk, not because they only had the courage to tell you when they were drunk.

The next morning you heard Hermione grumble from the bed beside you, you knew her hangover would probably be rough so you got up quickly to grab her a glass of water, feeling the urge to make her morning easier. When you saw the look on her face, you wished you would have stayed in bed. You were walking toward her, water in hand but she was glaring right through you.

"You know I can do that myself, right? I'm not a baby." She huffed and you blinked at her. You didn't know why it seemed that all of a sudden your friends no longer wanted you to be around them.

"Sorry" You mumbled and you set the glass down on her nightstand, quickly going back to your bed and dressing, rushing out of the room to make your way to the dining hall. Your stomach was in knots as you reflected on the things your friends had treated you the night before. Tears pricked at your eyes. It was still very early in the morning so you were thankful to see that there were very few people at the large tables. You made your way to an empty spot and sat down, slightly wondering why you came at all. You supposed it was out of habit but you were not in any way hungry, stress filling the space that food usually would. You instead grabbed a goblet and filled it with water and drank slowly and quietly, contemplating how you would move throughout the day. There was suddenly a presence beside you and you looked to your left to see none other than Luna Lovegood. Her blue tie was knotted in a way that made it look like a butterfly and you couldn't help but feel a bit better at the sight. She smiled gently at you and you patted the space next to you as a gesture for her to sit down.

"You seem off today" She stated in a matter of fact sort of way, as if it was not up for debate. You pondered your next words carefully.

"Luna, do you think I act overly motherly?" You asked softly and she looked at you knowingly. she reached over to you and played with a bit of your hair before putting her hand back in her lap.

"I would say that you act motherly, there is a bit of a gray area in 'overly'." She stated simply. You sighed a bit at the realization that nobody wanted you to be this way. Luna wrapped one pinky around one of yours and pulled your hand into the space between you two. While holding pinkies she smiled at you. "I know sometimes people don't like being reliant on others, I know that some of your friends are reliant on you. Your love language is acts of service and care and that doesn't make you overbearing. I'm also guessing your friends wouldn't last very long without you taking care of them." She blinked at you before getting up and heading back to her friends at the Ravenclaw table. You smiled after the strange girl and you forgot about why you were upset for a moment. That moment unfortunately left fairly quickly when you saw red hair enter your line of sight. Ron and Harry made their way over to the table with sour looks on their face. They sat across from you but kept their eyes down. You thought for a moment about speaking but you were too worried. You simply chugged the rest of your water and smiled at the boys who met your eyes briefly. You stood and hurried to leave the hall, not wanting to upset anyone but feeling anxiety creep up you arms. You liked taking care of people, it was what you wished someone would do for you. It made you feel wanted and being wanted was essential to your self esteem. You placed a lot of your worth on what you could offer others and when you no longer felt you were wanted or needed, the rest of the wall began to crumble as well. You decided that if your friends didn't want you to be overbearing then you would try to stay out of their way. You just wanted them to be comfortable.

You made your way to the dorm, Hermione heading out as you walked in. You offered her a kind smile which she slightly reciprocated. She braced herself for questions about her state but none came. You were already through the portrait hole before she could really process that you hadn't said anything to her. That was very unlike you. She knew she had been grumpy that morning but she figured you would understand. She brushed off her bad feeling though and began moving quicker toward the dining hall. When she got to the long tables she spotted the boys she needed to speak to. They looked up at her with tired eyes, all of them feeling the effects of the night before.

"Did you notice anything weird about Y/N this morning?" She questioned lightly, trying to to speak too loud and upset any of their headaches.

"We thought you might know what was going on. She didn't even talk to us." Harry stated rather worriedly. All of them conversed about why you might be acting strange but couldn't come up with any big reasons unless something happened the night before. None of them exactly remembered any details so it was a bit hard to tell.

Back in the dorm room you tried to calm your breathing as you gathered your books. Your eyes stung with tears and you questioned whether your friends even liked you. You wished one of them wouldn't have pushed you away last night but now you felt that maybe they all disliked you and just kept you around out of pity. You made the decision that you would not take care of them. You didn't want them to be upset at you and maybe if you showed them you could be independent then they wouldn't feel the need to humor you.

You made your way to your first class, eyes slightly swollen and hands shaky. You knew you would have to sit next to Harry like you always did but you expected you wouldn't have any issues with avoiding annoying him. He wasn't one to ask questions and he was normally pretty oblivious.

Still, when you say down you felt his eyes on you. You looked over at him, smiling for a moment when your eyes met his before turning back to the front of the class. The rest of the period felt odd to both of you.

Normally, you would do little things for Harry during class. You would whisper help to him under your breath, fix his spelling when he needed it, find the right page in his book when he couldn't, and so on. When you didn't do that, he felt a bit lost. You weren't acting off in any way besides your lack of taking care of him. He wanted to ask what was wrong but by the time class ended and there was a moment to get a word in, you were already out the classroom door. You knew you had to get out of there before Harry noticed the way that tears were trying to fall from your eyes.

You felt your lungs contract in sadness as you rushed through the corridors, trying to get to your next class. It would be a bit of a challenge because it was with Hermione. She usually got help with flash cards and corrections from you, both of you being very smart in your studies. Instead, today you were quiet. She wondered if she should ask but she had never had to before and if you were upset then she didn't want to make it any worse. Instead she worked quietly and glanced at you occasionally. She noticed the bags under your eyes and how your face was a bit puffy. She grew concerned that you were upset about how she acted that morning. She decided she would talk to you as soon as class was over.

Unfortunately you left class before she could. You hurried out of class, Hermione calling a bit after you but you didn't hear her and she got too caught up in the crowd to reach you. Ron, the least likely to ask questions, stopped you in the masses in the hallway. People swirled around you two and he gave you a worried look. You noticed that he had dirt on his face, not an odd occurrence with the redhead, but you tried to prevent yourself from fixing it. Normally you would rub at it while he grumbled and you would laugh it off because you felt useful. Now, seeing the patch of dirt and not wanting to make him uncomfortable by fixing it, you just felt upset. Ron's hand on your arms tightened a bit when you made a move to leave.

"Y/N, whats wrong?" Ron seemed genuinely concerned. You felt so confused. One day they didn't want you near them and the now it seemed that they could tell something was off. You though they would be happy to have you off their back. Instead of answering Ron, your breath left your lungs. You could feel the space around you tighten and your hands went numb and your breathing picked up. Ron recognized this behavior of yours but he had never dealt with it on his own. He thought of what Hermione would do and pulled you into his chest to block you from the slowly decreasing traffic around you both. He felt your hands hold onto the front of his cloaks and your shoulders shook with what he guessed was crying. He spotted a bush of big hair and a mop of black in the crowd and he shot his hand up, hoping to catch their attention. They spotted him and made their way over.

By the time they arrived the crowds of the halls were pretty much dissipated and you had yet to slow your panicking. Your breath was rapid and your hands shook, you couldn't let go of Ron's cloak but he made no move to remove you. They all were silently grateful that this was a free period for all of you.

"What happened? Ron, what did you do?" Hermione accused and he glared at her.

"I just grabbed her in the hall to talk and she got all panicky, I was trying to do that thing you do with her but I don't think it worked." He mumbled. He felt guilty that he didn't know how to help you but he was glad to have the brains of the operation there now to fix whatever he did wrong.

"Sorry Ron, you're trying your best." Hermione mumbled her apology before speaking softly to you. "Y/N? Honey? Are you alright?" She tried to be gentle and she brought her hand up to rest on your shoulder. You flinched at the contact so she removed the hand. You felt Ron move and for some reason that startled you into the realization that you were holding onto him and he probably didn't want that. You let go of him quickly and stepped back from him a bit, a scared look on your face.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" You mumbled and your legs nearly gave out. Harry wrapped you in his arms and sunk to the ground so you were both sitting. He started to stroke your hair slowly and rub your back, knowing those are things that you had done for them when they were upset.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, Y/N. It's okay" Harry whispered in your ear and you let out a choked sob.

"I do though- I do, I have to apologize. I'm sorry that I have to take care of you and I smother you. I promise I don't mean to and I know it's-"

"Whoa whoa whats going on? Who said anything about smothering?" Harry asked genuinely and you sniffled before realizing they didn't remember what they said.

"You did." They barely head the small whisper and they all looked at each other. None of them could remember what they said last night but they all felt guilty instantly. They were all the kind of people that would sometimes get snappy when they drank but they normally didn't all drink at the same time. This meant that there was someone with you to take the heat and that there was someone there to rationalize it with you. They remembered that they had all drank except you and they deduced that they must have snapped at you at the same time.

"We are so sorry, Y/N" Hermione started. "You know how we get, it was not about you. Oh god I'm so sorry." She put her face in her hands and she though about how you had reacted when she got snappy this morning, you must have already been sensitive to it and she had pushed you over the edge.

"I promise we didn't mean anything we said, we love that you keep us in check, Y/N." Ron chimed in and Harry hummed in agreement along side him. You shook your head a bit, not believing them. You were so sure that you bothered them and at this moment they were trying to help out of pity.

"It's okay, you guys don't have to deal with it if you don't want to. I'm sorry I've to act so motherly and I-" You continued rambling but Harry felt something click in his head. He remembered saying that you acted motherly and he felt his stomach turn. He grabbed your head and pulled it into him so he could kiss your hair.

"You are perfect, Y/N" he mumbled. "We are just idiots who say stupid stuff when we're drunk. Please don't blame yourself, you haven't done anything wrong." Your shaking was lessened and you lifted your head a bit.

"Ron didn't actually say anything, he just booked it when he saw me." You almost chuckled and you reminded yourself that that was what he did to everyone when he drank. They laughed along as well, just thrilled that you were no longer having a panic attack.

"Let's go to the great hall and get you some water, yeah?" Hermione asked and you nodded.

Harry helped get you up by getting up first and then lifting you by your waist to standing. He held you there for a moment to see if you were stable enough on your own and you were. You turned to Ron and licked a thumb before rubbing the dirt off of his face. He grumbled significantly less this time than he normally would and Hermione and Harry looked at each other in relief. You all made your way to the great hall where you got some water and snacks. Pretty soon you were feeling much better and you decided you were going to take the rest of the day off and walk to the black lake. Harry volunteered to go with you and he nodded at Hermione and Ron to let them know that it was okay to leave.

You both walked rather quietly to the lake, it was a rare occasion that both you and Harry were alone and that it was sunny outside. Your face warmed in the sun and your eyes closed as you walked, trying to be careful not to trip. Eventually you both made it next to the lake and you set your robe down for you and harry to sit on. Your heart sped up at the lack of space between you two but you didn't want to push him closer out of fear of him leaving. His words had affected you the most last night and you hadn't forgotten them. As if sensing your unease, he spoke up.

"I am truly sorry, you know." He mumbled guiltily and you looked over at him.

"I know, it's okay. All is forgi-"

"No, I'm really sorry, Y/N. I know I hurt you last night and I couldn't regret it more." He insisted and you felt tears come back. You weren't panicking or even sad, you were both happy that he recognized his words and still vaguely worried he meant them.

"Did you mean any of it?" You almost whispered and Harry's heart twinged.

"Of course not." He stated. You gave him a look that said to cut the bull shit. "I didn't. You do act motherly, but that doesn't mean we don't all like it." You couldn't decide if that made you feel better or not. "Can I tell you something that might embarrass me?" He asked hesitantly and you nodded. "You are the person who has taken care of me the most in my life." You gave him a questioning look.

"Look, since I got on that train 6 years ago you have been there for me, you've taken care of me and tried to help me, even when I was being a jerk. You never made fun of me for not always getting good marks, you're at every quidditch match, you always listen when I get upset at what I am getting put through. You act more like a caretaker for me than anyone ever has." He was speaking so softly that it barely sounded like him. You felt a tear roll down your face and before you had a chance to wipe it away, he did. His hand brushed under your eye and then went back into his lap. "I feel guilty that I cant give the same back to you and-"

"Harry, you don't have to-"

"Please let me finish." He pleaded and he put his hand on top of your in your lap. You nodded again. "I care about you more than anyone else and I cant help but feel that I would never be able to repay you for all you've done for me. For all the support you've given me." He took a deep breath. "I think that last night, in my messed up and drunk mind, I thought that pushing you to stop taking care of me would make it so that I wouldn't feel guilty for not being able to do the same for you. And I know that that didn't work at all and of course that is the worst way possible to go about that but I just want you to know that it was all on me and it had nothing to do with how you behave. I love all that you do for me, I just never know how to give it back." When he was done you tackled him in a hug. His arms wrapped around you as well and you smiled into the hug. When you pulled back there was a blush on his cheeks.

"You know, I was talking to Luna earlier and she mentioned that my love language is acts of service."

"Love that girl" Harry mumbled passively as he remembered all the times that she had given him strange and profound knowledge that he didn't know he needed.

"Agreed. Anyway, it just reminded me that it's the way I show that I care. I like to be needed and I like to help. I don't need anything in return, I appreciate all of the ways that you guys show you care about me." You smiled. "Hermione always reminds me about the homework and makes sure I go to bed on time, even if it means she has to stop studying too. Ron always reminds me to eat and how much his family loves me, sort of implying that he does too even if he wont say it. And you always give me hugs after quidditch matches and you give me your extra chocolate frogs. That's all I will ever need from you, you don't owe me anything for me just trying to show that I care." When you were finished, Harry was beaming at you.

"I love you." He suddenly blurted.

"I love you to-"

"No I mean like love you love you. Like I have romantic feeling for you." He pushed out and he felt his heart pound in his chest in fear. You smiled at him.

"I feel the same way about you. I love you too" You beamed and he sighed in relief before pulling you into him to kiss you. You spent rest of the day by the black lake, basking in the sun and each other.

[monthofsick]

Hard to Stomach

Nov(emeto)ber 2022, Day 16: Bad food

OCs: Jamal, Nikita

Unsurprisingly, I am way behind schedule and had to miss out on a few days, but here we go again! It's kind of a personal spin on the prompt about how good food can be bad for you if consumed at the wrong time. As someone with chronic gastritis, I had to learn it the hard way. Several times. It also sounded like a perfect chance to explore the relationship between my boys Jamal and Nikita a little more.

TW: Vomit, health issues

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

Jamal didn't like changes at all, but lately, everything kept on changing. He was still obsessed with football and gave his all on the gridiron, it just wasn't the same since Nikita had left the team. Which was kind of absurd, considering Jamal couldn't stand the guy not so long ago. Nikita hadn't even been an active player after his concussion. According to the doctors, there was a higher risk of getting a similar or more severe head injury after the first one, so… it probably was for the best. It just sucked that Jamal himself had sparked the whole crisis.

Nikita's absence wasn't the only change for the worse in their college team. Since Jamal's breakdown from heat exhaustion, there was an unspoken obligation for everyone to pick sides. Needless to say, that had never been Jamal's intention. Of all people, he who tended to avoid conflicts like the plague was now right in the center of one. There were some teammates who blamed Brody for recording Jamal throwing up on the field. Others thought that Nikita had totally overreacted by hitting Brody for such an harmless act. They believed the trainer had been right to go off on Nikita for the physical attack, the opposition deemed it unfair – the coach should have intervened earlier and directed his rage towards Brody.

Despite a successful season, the team morale had hit an all time low. The trainer was cranky and Jamal, who had neither asked for getting sick from training in the scorching heat nor for Nikita to go into protection mode overdrive, had somehow become the eye of the storm. So far, Nikita was adamant about never talking to the coach again. He wasn't an easy person to read, so Jamal had no idea if his friend missed football or if he was actually indifferent about not being part of the team anymore.

It was high time for Jamal to get away from all the drama and clear his head. There was no better way to make the most of the mild fall than a day trip to the coast, so Jamal packed Nikita, some snacks and cool water and headed towards the shore. Recently, Nikita had locked himself away in his room even more than he usually did. A bit of sunshine and the fresh, salty sea breeze would definitely do him well.

After a pretty relaxing ride of not even two hours, they arrived at their destination and took some time to stroll along the pier. It was a pleasantly warm day that never ventured into hot and sweaty territory. Glittery patterns danced across the seemingly endless blue canvas. There was something deeply soothing about the vastness of the ocean that eventually blended into the horizon.

Noon approached fast and when it was time to fill their stomachs, Jamal and Nikita decided upon a small Thai eatery. It was off the beaten path along the seafront, huddled away in a winding alley. The food was way more affordable than what the well known tourist magnets served and the smell lingering in front of the entrance door was enough to make their mouths water. After sitting down at one of the rustic wooden tables, Jamal ordered a spicy noodle soup named Khanom Jeen Nam Ngiaw while Nikita opted for a green papaya salad.

"That is the life, huh?", Jamal sighed with satisfaction.

"Never been here before, no idea why." Nikita shrugged and leaned back. "It actually is kind of nice."

"You know what I love about you?", Jamal grinned. "Your boundless enthusiasm."

"Everyone says that's my best feature." The usual one-sided smirk curled up a corner of Nikita's mouth, but a thoughtful expression remained on his face.

"What's going on in that thick skull of yours?", Jamal asked, knocking against Nikita's forehead.

"A desire to be left alone by your knuckles." Nikita avoided Jamal's gaze just as much as he avoided the question. As he had avoided Jamal himself in the last few days, for that matter.

"Hey. Look at me, Nik." Jamal leaned over the table, put his hand on Nikita's chin and turned his face towards his own. "You don't want to see the trainer right now, I get it. Or the rest of the team. But why do I feel like you've been hiding from me as well?"

"I'm here now, aren't I?" Jamal could almost see the wheels turning inside of Nikita's head as he struggled with himself. After a particularly deep breath, Nikita finally looked up at Jamal again. "Are you mad at me?"

"Am I… wait. What?" This was not the answer – or rather, question – Jamal had expected. "Why would I?"

"Because I fucked up the entire team." Nikita exhaled audibly. "And don't say I didn't. Everyone's at each other's throat and coach asshole thinks it's gonna blow over if he ignores it long enough."

"I mean, you only went after Brody because he filmed me, so… isn't he the one who fucked up the team?"

"Truth is, no one cared before I punched him in the face." There was a crack in Nikita's matter-of-fact callousness. His anger hadn't fully turned into cynical resignation. "Coach would have probably scolded him a little if he had even noticed."

"The thing is, you can't just hit someone, especially not on your own team." Jamal scratched his head. "But then again, it's hard to be angry at you when you did it for me."

"If anyone else had protected you, there would have been no need to hit him. I wasn't even on the field in the first place. The trainer was. Pretty much any other player was."

"I don't think I need someone to protect me", Jamal said, unable to hold back a laugh. "I mean, have you looked at me?"

"I did, and that's exactly why I think… why I know that you need protection." Nikita stubbornly crossed his arms. "It's you and the rest of the world that doesn't look close enough."

"You are so weird."

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm right. You're just not used to being…" Nikita interrupted himself as a waiter brought two artfully arranged plates of food. Jamal noticed that even the reserved blonde couldn't help licking his lips in anticipation.

"Now dig in", Jamal smiled. "And stop worrying, alright? I'm not mad. Not at all. You don't mind control the entire team. If they keep on fucking up, it's their own fault."

"Plus they're too irrelevant to have a seat at this table." Looking a little more relaxed, Nikita munched away on the finely shredded green papaya, vegetables and roasted peanuts.

Jamal turned his attention to the steaming bowl of goodness in front of him – rice noodles in a dark red broth with tender pieces of pork ribs. There were cherry tomatoes, cilantro and pickled mustard greens, fried garlic and chili flakes. Other ingredients were harder to identify, something resembling smooth blood sausage and dried flowers tasting a bit like mushrooms. It all merged beautifully into a smoky, tangy and flavorful dish. Quite spicy and a little oily as well, which Jamal usually didn't mind. Today, he did feel a burning sensation in his stomach. Nothing too bad, though, and the soup was way too delicious to leave anything behind.

Nikita seemed to feel the heat as well – he was wiping his mouth (and nose) several times with his napkin. His pale cheeks were sporting a subtle flush, which was so not like him.

"Has a nice kick to it, hm?" Jamal couldn't supress a little grin.

"Nothing I can't handle", Nikita huffed. Just like Jamal, he finished his plate, then leaned back and put both hands on his abdomen.

"You know what? Let's get some ice cream to cool down our mouths", Jamal suggested while putting out his wallet as a sign that they were ready to pay.

"Sounds like a plan." Nikita seemed content, which was anything but a given. The relaxed seaside atmosphere seemed to rub off on him.

They treated themselves to homemade gelato at the waterfront, feet dangling from the harbor wall. And even though the hours flew by, the day felt like an entire miniature vacation. When the sun was near setting, it was time for them to make their way home. Driving along the coastline, Jamal felt a tranquil joy he had been missing for quite a while.

He had no idea that this was about to change in a pretty drastic manner.

-

It started innocent enough with a slight discomfort, then quickly spiraled out of control. A gnawing ache took hold of Jamal's upper abdomen. The safety belt had a constrictive tightness to it that put way too much pressure on the stomach. Jamal's lunch from hours ago was suddenly stirred up again with every bump in the road. A cold, nagging queasiness lingered in the back of his palate.

Trying to clear his throat, Jamal sent his body into a hiccup instead. His diaphragm spasmed harshly, forcing out the signature hic with every hitch of the chest.

"Need a sip of water?", Nikita asked and pulled a chilled bottle out of the air-conditioned glove box. He opened it and held it in front of Jamal's mouth so he could have a few sips without letting go off the wheel.

"Thanks", Jamal rasped. Drinking helped to get rid of the hiccup, but now there was even more liquid sloshing around in his belly. A throbbing nausea crept up Jamal's throat, tickling his uvula. He swallowed hard as a sour fluid burned through his esophagus and flooded his mouth. The situation was going from unpleasant to concerning way too fast. Jamal knew he had to pull over as soon as possible, but that was precisely the problem – they were on a busy highway during rush hour with no exit, lay-by or service station in sight.

Tiny droplets of sweat formed on Jamal's forehead and the steering wheel felt damp and slippery under his palms. With the current traffic situation, Jamal needed to focus on the road. That didn't dissuade his body from the firm decision that, for whatever reason, an emergency purge could not be postponed. The tell-tale contractions of Jamal's abdominal muscles vigorously squeezed his stomach until it propelled up a surge of dense liquid.

Jamal was at a loss at what to do. He clenched his teeth and gulped down the nasty sludge, but it instantly came back up again. His cheeks bulged out while his belly kept on jerking, relentlessly pushing up more and more vomit. Opening the window and leaning out to throw up would have been insanely dangerous. Even bending to the side to avoid drenching himself in the mess might have caused the car to swerve. And with his throat being currently used as a barf pipeline, Jamal couldn't warn Nikita that he needed a sick bag held in front of him immediately.

There was only so much Jamal's lips could do. His mouth was already filled completely, but the stomach contents kept on coming up until they finally burst out of him. With a sharp jolt, Jamal expelled a flood of puke all over his lap and shoes. The lips he had pursed in an effort to hold everything in now acted as a nozzle to project the vomit even further, splattering on the steering wheel and dashboard.

"…the fuck?" Nikita was clearly hit by surprise. After feeding Jamal the water, he had turned towards the window again and missed out on the warning signs. Once Nikita got over the inital shock, he started looking around for any kind of container. "Where the hell is that coming from?"

"Du-dunno", Jamal coughed before he was overtaken by the next heave. Determined to keep his head straight and his eyes on the road, he just let the vomit pour out of his mouth. The reddish broth stung like ant venom. It did always burn twice, just not in the place Jamal had expected. The noodles only made things worse during their forced return. Jamal had to gargle and gag them up until the long, slimy strands slipped out of his mouth and splatted on his jeans.

"Ah, whatever." Nikita gave up his futile search – it was too late to protect the car and Jamal himself from the onslaught of undigested food. He put his hand on Jamal's shoulder instead, rubbing his upper arm and the parts of his back he could reach. "I owe you a car cleaning anyways from my last puke attack, so don't even worry about it. Just let the stuff out."

"Why – why does it always – urrrrrrck – have to happen… in my car?", Jamal groaned. He had experienced first hand how persistent the sour stench had been after driving a very pukish Nikita to the hospital when the blonde had his concussion. Big difference was, the poor guy couldn't possibly have helped it at the time. Nikita had been in and out of consciousness from his head injury, but what was his own excuse? It was highly unlikely that Jamal was hit by his very first bout of carsickness while being the driver himself and he had never reacted to spicy food in such an explosive manner. If it was a stomach flu, he would have probably felt weak and feverish, which he didn't. Just sick to his stomach and raw on the inside.

"It's kind of our thing, isn't it?" Nikita put on a crooked smile. "Now stop thinking about it already. I'll treat your car to a professional cleaning session if it makes you feel better."

It was hard to feel better while sitting in a rapidly cooling puddle of his own vomit, but Jamal was still grateful. He was also relieved that Nikita didn't laugh or snap at him. The nausea combined with the fiery heat of chili was bad enough already. Now that Jamal's irritated stomach was constantly subjected to harsh contractions, it hurt even more. His body wasn't ready to show him any mercy. With another painful spasm, Jamal burped up the next gush of chunky soup. It ran down his chin and soaked his chest with spicy broth and soggy bits of meat.

"Yeah, that's it, throw it all up." Nikita's cool fingers caressed Jamal's neck. "If your lunch bothers you, there's no faster way to get rid of the stuff than vomiting it out."

If only it hadn't been the most unpleasant way as well. It was not like Jamal was given a choice anyways, he had to let his body do its job and sit it out until the bitter end. His entire meal came up in splashes of liquid with more or less lumps, flowing from his mouth with gag after gag. It was a draining process, in every sense of the word. And the end was indeed quite bitter when Jamal puked mucoid bile that tasted repulsive enough to trigger several dry heaves.

"So-sorry", he panted when his stomach was finally done emptying itself. "We… should probably clean up at the next rest area so you don't have to endure the stench for the entire drive."

"It smells pretty foul, but I can handle it." Nikita opened the window on his side, letting in a stream of fresh air. "Should have done that earlier, I guess. The rest's up to you to decide. You're the one covered in barf, if you want to get rid of it, I'm here to help. If you prefer getting home as quickly as possible, I'm fine with it as well. Stink isn't lethal."

"You sure?" Jamal actually couldn't wait to get home. Marinating in his own congealed sick for another hour wasn't exactly an enticing prospect, but still better than the humiliation of trying to get rid of the mess in public.

"Do I look like someone who lies just to make you feel better?" Nikita had found a slightly crumpled paper napkin and reached over to wipe Jamal's mouth and chin. Then he pointed at Jamal's upper belly, just below the breastbone. "Does it also hurt somewhere around here?"

"It does, how do you know?" Even though vomiting had helped to ease the nausea, the nagging pain had only gotten worse.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you got a gastritis from all that stress lately." Once again, Nikita's voice was tinged with a hint of guilt. "You can't stand the thought of someone being mad at you. And the spicy food probably pushed your stomach over the edge."

"You kind of make me sound like a doormat."

"Just because you care about others?" Nikita shook his head. "Heck, you even care about me. I stayed away from people once I found out that most of them are assholes, including myself. You still take the risk. That doesn't sound like a coward thing to me."

"You're not half as bad as you like to pretend. At least you're honest." Jamal grinned and gave Nikita a slap on the back of his head. "So if it's gastritis, what am I supposed to do?"

"Prepare for a week of light meals and relaxation. No more fiery food for you until your stomach has calmed down." The hint of a smile played around the corners of Nikita's mouth. "And don't forget about tea and honey. Bet you didn't know I'm a tea expert."

"I guess there's a lot I don't know about you yet", Jamal mumbled. Weird enough, he felt only half as bad now that he knew Nikita would take care of both his car and himself. It took him back to more carefree days when a disease ment snuggling up in bed and being lovingly nursed back to health. "But honestly, I can't wait to find out."

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

Archive of our own: Up all night to get Bucky

tumblr: birdnamedenza

[bluejayblueskies]

an ill-fitting definition

rating: M words: 4.3k relationships: jongeorgie, jontim, jonmartin, background wtgfs additional tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, scottish safehouse period, canon asexual character, fluff, kissing, implied sexual content, rumors and misconceptions

written for weeks two/three of @archivalpride for the prompts identity and doubt!

cw for misconceptions about asexuality, assumptions made about somebody’s sexuality, rumors and outing somebody without their knowledge, non-explicit/implied sexual content, mention of canonical character death, mention of canonical stalking and paranoia, gossip (including of the sexual nature), food, very mild blood, mild internalized acephobia

ao3 link in source

.

It’s three weeks and two days after they began dating, when Georgie picks up Jon’s hand where it’s clasped in hers and asks with plain curiosity in her voice, so does the ring, y’know, mean anything?, that Georgie hears the word asexual cross Jon’s lips for the first time.

It’s not a word she’s unfamiliar with; she’s run in enough LGBTQ spaces in her time in uni that she has a good idea of the breadth of identities that are out there. She rubs her thumb across Jon’s ring and thinks, in the voice of the gender and equality training instructor with sharp red heels and a “fun” black dress who’d stood in front of the seminar she’d been mandated to take for one of her courses:

Asexuality. A lack of sexual attraction. An aversion or repulsion to sexual activities.

It had been a small word on a large black-and-white slide, crammed in next to aromanticism and overcrowded by a myriad of other sexual identities discussed at length. It had been… quite a comprehensive training, Georgie thinks as she quits fidgeting with Jon’s ring and instead threads their fingers together. For a moment, she considers asking what he means anyway, but she quickly dismisses the thought. She wants to be supportive, and as Jon looks at her with open, trusting eyes and a faint smile, she decides that she knows enough. She doesn’t want to make it awkward, and with things like these, she’s found that asking Jon to explain his feelings in plain terms can be… well, awkward is certainly a word for it. Best just not to bring it up, she decides.

Still, she feels the need to ask, “Can I kiss you?” because the red no sex sign blinking on and off in her head is frustratingly vague on what, exactly, is contained within that stipulation. When Jon voices his assent, she tips her head up and presses a quick kiss to his chin before kissing him on the lips, wiping the disgruntled look off them.

So yes to kissing, she thinks, tucking that away next to no sex. Yes kissing, no sex. Yes holding hands, she adds as she squeezes Jon’s hand in hers and he smiles at her, warm and soft, that special side of Jon that she only sees on occasion. No pet names, she adds a week later when she tries out sweetheart and Jon’s nose wrinkles with displeasure. No foot rubs, when Jon swats at her and says, between giggles, that he’s awfully ticklish. Yes back rubs. Yes cuddling. No PDA. No touching with wet or sticky hands. Yes brushing hair.

That’s as far as she gets before, one year and two months after she begins dating Jonathan Sims, she stops. After which point she stops keeping track, because, well. There’s really no point anymore, is there?

.

.

.

“I’m sorry,” Jon says, burying his head in his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tim says quickly, holding his hands in the air in a placating gesture. He scoots a few inches away from Jon on the couch for good measure, unsure just how much space Jon needs right now. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize—I should apologize. I should have asked first.”

“It’s just—” Jon makes a frustrated noise, and when he takes his hands away his cheeks are dark and he won’t meet Tim’s eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s okay,” Tim repeats, watching with a twisting feeling in his stomach as Jon apparently notices that the button of his trousers is still undone and quickly goes to redo it. His eyes follow the movements of Jon’s hands automatically, and just as automatically, he notes the distinct lack of a tent in the front of Jon’s trousers. The same… cannot be said for his own. Particularly after nearly twenty minutes of kissing, which Tim had very much enjoyed.

Christ, had Jon been uncomfortable with that as well? All in a rush, Tim says, “Was the kissing bad too?” Then, he winces—fuck, that sounded accusatory—and adds, “It- it’s okay if it was, I just- I didn’t know, and I don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable, Jon.”

“No, the- the kissing was fine, it’s just...” Jon makes an aborted motion with his hands, like he’s trying and failing to find the words.

“... complicated?” Tim supplies.

Jon nods mutely.

“That’s okay,” Tim says, and he finds that he means it. “We don’t have to do anything more than kissing if you don’t want to.”

“I- I don’t…” Jon worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, like he’s searching for the right words, the crease in his forehead deepening every moment he fails to find them. Finally, he lets out a long, labored breath, pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and says, “Yes, that… that might be best.”

Tim studies Jon’s face. It’s pinched and a bit stiff, like Jon would very much like to crawl out of his skin or melt into a puddle and disappear. “You sure?” he feels compelled to ask, placing a hand carefully on Jon’s knee. “You, uh. You seem a bit unsure.”

Jon sits there a moment more, spine straight and rigid, before melting slightly against Tim’s hand, his face slipping into something more relaxed but no less unhappy. “Yes.” He hesitates a moment, then says, a bit stiltedly, “I’m, um. I’m asexual. Since we’re already talking about this, I… I may as well get that out in the open as well.”

Oh. A few pieces slot into place, and Tim says with perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than necessary, “Oh. Why didn’t you tell—?” He cuts himself off and offers Jon a sheepish smile. “Sorry, sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you for telling me.”

“We’re dating,” Jon says bluntly. “It was going to come up eventually.”

“Still.” Tim shrugs, then reaches for Jon’s hand and holds it tightly in his. “Thanks.” He hesitates only a moment before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Jon’s nose. Jon makes a disgruntled noise, which Tim thinks is adorable. Then, because it feels appropriate, he says, “Y’know, Danny… Danny was asexual. Aromantic too, actually. We had a big talk about it a few years ago where he sort of… laid it all out for me.” No sex, no romance, no thank you, had been the overall gist of it. Tim makes a new box for Jon and fills it in with the words no sex, yes romance, it’s complicated.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly, with that same sort of sadness in his eyes that he gets every time Tim mentions Danny, something much gentler than pity and significantly less cloying. If Tim notices the faint discomfort that accompanies it, something that whispers that isn’t my definition of asexuality, we’re not the same, you don’t understand if one were to listen closely enough, he doesn’t let on.

Tim does, however, notice the discomfort in Jon’s eyes—now mixed with anger—when two years, six months, and seven days later, he accuses Tim of murder. But by then, their days of hand-holding and nose-kissing are far, far behind them.

.

.

.

“Maybe he just needs to get laid,” Melanie says with a groan, lying on Georgie’s couch and staring at the ceiling. The Admiral is curled up on her lap, purring contentedly. She scratches absentmindedly under his chin.

“What, Jon?” Georgie appears in Melanie’s field of vision, wielding a damp wooden spoon and frowning.

“No. No.” Melanie shakes her head emphatically. “Martin. He’s been all… sulky lately. I think he’s still upset that Jon came to me instead of him for help, but I don’t know why he has to be all… touchy about it.”

“Ah. Well, you know, he is a bit hung up on Jon. At least, according to you.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Melanie says grumpily. “Besides, didn’t you say that Jon went on about Martin, like, all the time? Sounds like he’s got it bad as well. Maybe they could just… y’know.”

“Melanie.”

“What?” Melanie tries to shoot Georgie a glare, but it’s obstructed by the back of the couch. “I’m on my last nerve, Georgie!”

“I know, honey. But Jon’s really not… well, he’s not very open about these sorts of things. Getting him to talk about his feelings was like pulling teeth when we were together.”

“It still baffles me that you used to date.”

“He’s very sweet when you get to know him!” There’s a pause, a few clatters from the kitchen. “Besides, even if he and Martin got around to talking, Jon… well, he doesn’t.”

Melanie frowns. “Doesn’t what?”

“Have sex.”

“Really?” Melanie sits up, disturbing the Admiral, who lets out an irritated mrpp before adjusting himself accordingly and curling back up on her lap. “So when you were together…?”

Georgie shakes her head. “Nope. Never.”

“Huh.” Melanie thinks for a moment. “Is he like… religious or something?”

Georgie chuckles. “Jon? No, not at all. He’s asexual.”

“Isn’t that like… that thing that sponges are? Where they self-reproduce?”

“Seriously?”

Melanie scowls at the incredulous look Georgie’s giving her. “What? I’m not being a- a dick, I’ve just never heard of it before.”

“You were a YouTuber. Your job was to be internet famous.”

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.”

Georgie shoots Melanie a grin. “Sorry. Basically, it means that Jon doesn’t do sex. Like… at all. He just… doesn’t.”

“Huh,” Melanie says again.

“Yeah.” Georgie turns back to the stove. “Now, come here. Tell me if there’s too much salt?”

“Sorry Admiral,” Melanie whispers as she deposits him onto the floor and crosses the room to wrap her arms around Georgie’s waist from behind and take the bite of sauce on the spoon Georgie holds out for her. “Mm, tastes great. As always.”

And in the back of her mind, Melanie adds another line to the section labeled Jonathan Sims and writes, with careful handwriting, he doesn’t.

.

.

.

Although… according to Georgie, Jon doesn’t.

Martin pauses the tape and rubs his hands over his eyes. His cheeks are burning red, and he takes a few minutes to just breathe.

Doesn’t what? Doesn’t date? Doesn’t kiss? Doesn’t—

Martin stops that train of thought before it goes any further, the flush on his face growing in intensity. It’s none of my business, he tells himself as he ejects the tape and turns it over in his hands a few times before sliding it back into the small box it had come from.

He still can’t help but think about it. He thinks about it before the Unknowing, when Jon hesitates just a moment before wrapping him in a tight hug and whispering, I… I’ll be back, Martin. Then we can talk. He thinks about it when Jon’s in his coma, when Martin sits at his bedside and loses himself in daydreams and what-ifs. He thinks about it when Jon’s hand is clasped in his and he’s leading Martin out of cloying white fog and sea-salt air, his shirt speckled with bits of dark liquid that Martin tries to pretend isn’t blood. He thinks about it on the way to the safehouse, Jon leaning against his side, Martin’s hand clasped firmly in his.

He thinks about it a lot, in the confines of the wooden walls that let in the growing chill of the Scottish countryside.

Jon doesn’t.

He knows what Jon does. Jon makes him breakfast most days, eggs and toast and sometimes waffles, which Martin’s always considered a guilty pleasure but that he’s had more times in the past week and a half than he’s had for the past ten years. Jon puts his head on Martin’s shoulder when they sit on the couch and read, flipping through the dusty novels they’d found tucked in cardboard boxes underneath the bed that Jon had wrinkled his nose at but has been slowly making his way through nevertheless. Jon clings to Martin like his life depends on it when they sleep, and Martin will wake in the morning with one arm slung across his chest, a leg between his, and a sizeable portion of hair tickling at his nose.

And, nine days into their stay, Jon smiles at Martin as he shuffles into the kitchen in the morning, stands on his toes, and presses a soft kiss to Martin’s lips.

“Um,” Martin says eloquently, still half-asleep and trying to process what he’s 98% sure is their first kiss. He’d be 100% sure except for the fact that Jon kissed him like it was nothing, like it was easy, like it was something they do every morning.

The smile slips from Jon’s face, and he looks nervous. “I- I’m sorry, I should have asked first—”

“No, no, it’s- it’s okay,” Martin hastens to say, taking one of Jon’s hands in his and squeezing gently. “Just- just surprised, that’s all. I, um. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to kiss me, given that we haven’t…” He gestures absently, his face heating up. Stop talking, Martin. “Yeah,” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” Jon says with a frown. “I… apologize for giving you that impression. I- I love you, Martin—I have no problems with kissing you.”

Warmth courses through Martin, as it always does when Jon tells him that he loves him. It all feels so unreal sometimes that he’s here, with Jon, away from it all and living in quiet domesticity. “Oh,” he says, face flushed. “A- all right, then. Great!”

“Great,” Jon echoes.

“Just- just thought maybe you didn’t—”

Martin clamps his mouth shut, face heating up more, this time in embarrassment. Shut up, Martin.

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t… what?”

“Um.” Martin rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Kiss?”

Jon looks at Martin blankly. “Oh. Well, I- I do.”

“Right, yeah, I- I put that together. When we, um. You know.”

Jon looks amused. “Kissed?”

“Yep, that,” Martin squeaks out.

They look at each other for a moment before dissolving into giggles. Jon presses another kiss to Martin’s lips and finishes making the waffles and kisses Martin again when he hands Jon his tea, and it’s really quite lovely indeed.

So Martin adds Jon kisses to his mental list of Jon does and finds a sole remainder on the list of Jon doesn’t. And it’s fine with him, he decides, if Jon doesn’t want to have sex. He just wants Jon, in whatever way Jon will have him.

Jon doesn’t do sex, he thinks as he kisses Jon goodnight.

So, three days later, when they’re on the couch and they’ve kissed until Martin is red-faced and breathless and Jon pulls back with a pinched expression on his face, Martin assumes—with hot embarrassment coursing through him—that he’s somehow gone too far and strayed into sex territory and made Jon uncomfortable.

Then, Jon says with cheeks dark and eyes focused resolutely on Martin’s chest, “Martin, would… would you like to move to the bedroom?” and Martin’s thoughts grind to a halt.

“Sorry, what?” is all he can think to say.

Jon’s cheeks grow incrementally darker. “I am asking,” he says slowly, like the words are clunky and unwieldy in his mouth, “if you would like to have sexual intercourse. With me, of course, I- I hope that was implied.”

Martin’s aware that his mouth is quite literally hanging open in shock. He closes it quickly before swallowing and saying, “I… yeah, Jon, I- I’d love that, but I thought you—”

He clamps his mouth shut again, a touch too late. Jon’s forehead creases in confusion and he says, “I what?”

Martin hems and haws for a moment before biting the bullet and saying, all in a rush, “I thought you didn’t like sex.”

Jon’s frown deepens. “What? Why?”

And god, Martin doesn’t want to admit that he’s been thinking about office gossip for nearly a year, but he’s dug his grave—he may as well lie in it. He sighs, worries his hands on his lap, and says, “I… may have listened to a tape where Melanie said that Georgie said that you… didn’t.”

Jon looks at Martin blankly for a moment before his expression flattens into something that’s equal parts irritated and resigned. “Ah. Right. That… that makes sense, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry, Jon,” Martin says emphatically, placing his hand atop Jon’s and squeezing. “I- I didn’t mean to hear it; I was listening to the statements and it was just there.”

“No, it’s… it’s not your fault.” Jon sighs and rubs a hand across his eyes. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

“What?”

Jon makes an aborted, dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’ve… never been good at explaining my own preferences. I never did with Georgie, just… told her I was asexual and left it at that. I suppose she took that to mean that I, er. Didn’t.”

Asexual. Martin has a vague notion of what that means—he’s been in enough online LGBTQ spaces to have encountered the word before, but he’s never really looked into it much himself. If pressed, he thinks he’d also assume it meant that Jon didn’t. Something a bit guilty twists within him at that thought, amplified by his next thought that Georgie shouldn’t have assumed, because, well, that’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it? Still, he feels the need to voice it; he squeezes Jon’s hand again and says, “It’s not your fault that she just- just made assumptions about what you wanted, Jon.”

“Yes, but it’s my fault that I never corrected her.” Jon makes a face. “Or Tim, now that I think about it. I… I suppose I’m just not very good at talking about these things. Particularly because my own preferences are…” Jon’s pained expression deepens. “Christ, I don’t want to say complicated again, but there really is no other word for it.”

That’s not your fault either, Martin wants to say, but he knows Jon will just contradict him again, and he’ll repeat himself, and then they’ll just be talking in circles, and that won’t help anything. It’s frustrating, but it’s the truth. Still, Martin finds the words waiting on his lips when he opens his mouth, so he shuts it again and thinks for a moment, promising himself later. I’ll tell him later. Finally, he says carefully, “Do you… do you want to talk about it? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I don’t want to assume.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Well, I don’t want to keep assuming, I suppose, given that I’ve already assumed quite a lot.” Quieter: “Sorry, again.”

“It’s fi—” Jon cuts off, takes a breath. “Th… thank you, Martin.” He hesitates a moment, then says haltingly, “I- I do want to talk about it, but I don’t—” He makes a frustrated noise. “—I don’t know how.”

“Okay,” Martin says after a moment. “You said it’s complicated, yeah?” When Jon nods mutely, he continues, “Would it help if you described how you feel right now? That’s- that’s less complicated, right?”

Jon’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “I… suppose.”

“All right, then.” Martin makes a go-on gesture, then rests his hand atop Jon’s and applies a gentle pressure.

Jon takes a few deep breaths, squints at nothing, makes a few wordless noises, then says bluntly, “I want to have sex with you.”

Martin tries really, really hard not to blush, but he doesn’t think he quite succeeds given how hot his face feels when he says, “Right, okay.” His voice is a bit higher-pitched than normal; he hopes that Jon doesn’t notice. “And, um. Do you always… want to have sex with me? Or just right now.”

Jon grimaces. “That’s where it gets complicated.” He makes an I-don’t-know gesture with his free hand and says, “No? Yes? I don’t know, Martin. I’m told that not wanting sex all the time is- is normal, that- that you have to be in the mood, but apparently I’m just supposed to know when I’ll be in the mood and when I won’t be, and that- that doesn’t really work for me.”

“Are you—” Martin cringes internally, but forces the words out. “—in the mood right now?”

“Well,” Jon grumbles, “not anymore, but I was. And it’s complicated, because even if I am, I- I don’t always want to be touched, but how do you explain that to someone, how- how do you tell someone that it’s mostly no but sometimes yes and there’s a very good chance that I might change my mind halfway through and decide that it’s no after all?”

“I think,” Martin says patiently, “that you just say that.”

Jon gives Martin a look. “Martin.”

“What? It’s true!” Martin gives Jon as reassuring a smile as he can muster. “It made sense to me, at least.”

“Yes, but that’s not—” Jon makes a frustrated noise. “It’s not whether or not it makes sense, it’s whether or not somebody is willing to put up with a sexual partner who doesn’t know whether or not they’re going to want to have sex on any given day, whether they- they’ll be repulsed or interested or want to give but not receive or the other way around or- or something else that I haven’t thought of but that will likely happen because consistency is, apparently, off the cards for me entirely.”

“Hey, hey,” Martin says gently, placing a hand on Jon’s shoulder and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. “Jon, look at me.” When Jon looks, albeit reluctantly, Martin continues, “I can’t speak for other people, and I- I can’t tell you how to feel, but I can tell you how I feel, and I… I’m willing. No, more than willing—I love you, Jon, all of you, and if this is how you feel, then I love that about you too. Whatever you’re willing to give me, it… it’ll be enough. You’re enough.”

Jon’s cheeks darken and he looks away. After a long moment, he says in a stiff voice, “Well. Thank you, Martin.” Then, a bit softer: “I… I love you too.” He looks at Martin then and offers him a small, weak smile. “It’s… well, it’s still awkward, but it’s not quite as bad—talking about all of this—as I thought it would be.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Talk to me about it, that is.”

Jon’s smile turns a bit hesitant. “So you would really be okay if I… if I never asked again? To, er. To have sex.”

“Yes,” Martin says, without hesitation.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly. “And- and if I said that I did? Want to? That… that would be okay too? Even if I’d already said that I didn’t?”

“Yep.”

Jon looks down at his hands where they’re twisted tightly in the hem of his jumper, then back up at Martin. “All right.” He hesitates a moment, then says, “And if… if I said that I wanted to have sex… now?”

Ah. It looks like Martin’s not done blushing quite yet. “Yep, that- that’s fine with me,” he squeaks out, then cringes internally. Fine? Really?

Thankfully, Jon doesn’t seem offended; if anything, he seems amused, his mouth quirking up into a small smirk. “All right, then.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Martin’s lips, soft and chaste and ever-so-slightly lingering before he pulls away. “I, er. I think I’d like to just kiss for a bit, though.” His smile turns teasing. “Foreplay is very important, after all.”

Martin groans and gives Jon a look, his face likely fully tomato-red by now. “Jon.”

“Need to make sure we’re fully in the mood before beginning proceedings—”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point,” Martin says, a giggle slipping out around the words. Then, because he’s nothing if not a little mischievous himself, he leans forward and captures Jon’s lips in a kiss, significantly less chaste and a touch more insistent, pressing until Jon is leaned back against the arm of the couch and Martin is hovering over him. Martin disengages from the kiss so he can marvel at the flushed, wide-eyed expression on Jon’s face. “Like that?” he says innocently.

Jon blinks up at him for a few seconds, like he’s not entirely sure how to process everything in front of him, before he smiles, a warm, happy thing that captures Martin’s heart entirely and steals it away. “I do believe that was adequate, yes. Perhaps you should do it again though, just to make sure.”

So Martin does. I love him, he thinks as he kisses Jon on the couch and kisses him again on the bed, kisses him in the spot between his shoulder blades where he always carries tension and in the dip of his clavicle and on the inside of his thigh. And when he’s curled up next to Jon after, he presses another kiss to the crown of Jon’s head and wraps his arms around him and quietly discards his mental lists of does and doesn’t. He’ll start from scratch, he decides, and after a moment’s thought, he comes up with two more lists, upon which it’s surprisingly easy to add item after item after item.

Jon likes to be kissed. Jon likes eggs and toast, but not jam, and likes his tea black and slightly oversteeped. Jon doesn’t like wool because he finds it itchy. Jon doesn’t like white wine, but he likes red, the kinds that are too dry for Martin’s tastes.

Jon likes Martin, and Martin likes him too. So, so much. And even when things change, when Jon finds a white wine he likes at a restaurant they visit and he takes his tea once with honey and enjoys it and he goes through a period where he doesn’t enjoy open-mouthed kisses and Martin adjusts his lists accordingly, that remains.

[luminnara]

God Damn, Shit Sucking Vampires | Poly lost boys x oc CH 9

(oops no gif because the ones i want won’t upload right now)

Just as a reminder, lost boys requests are OPEN!

Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Tags:  @americancowgirl19 @ilikechocolatemilkh

Warnings: Blood, gore, vampire things

Hearing a strange voice in her head nearly drove Vera into a panic. When she realized she was hearing Max, she nearly flew into a second panic, the sire’s strong, firm voice only reassuring her that all of her fears were correct and he wasn’t going to like her very much. 

As she walked along the beach, bare toes sinking into the sand, Dwayne at her side, Vera briefly wondered how hard it would be to kill Max if it came down to a struggle. Did she have a chance against him? Maybe, if she stooped low enough to cry for her own sire, he would come and take care of it—

“Hey, chill out,” Dwayne said, stopping and turning towards her slightly. “What’s wrong?”

She realized she had halted and was simply standing there, staring at nothing as her mind raced. He could probably feel how freaked out she was getting, and as she looked at him, she found a gentle, understanding expression on his face. 

“C’mere,” he said, his voice low and rumbly and comforting. 

He opened his arms in invitation and she dove right in, moving quickly and desperately enough that she knocked him right onto his ass. He landed in the sand with a laugh, situating the two of them so that she could sit in his lap and they could face the dark, never ending ocean. 

“Did Max freak you out?” Dwayne asked as Vera tucked her head under his chin. 

“...a little.” 

“Why?”

She sighed. Something about Dwayne made her feel so safe that she was actually considering talking with him about things she hadn’t even told David yet. “Because I’m not used to this. I’m used to vampires who want me out of their territory the second I even get close, and I can’t really blame them.”

“This is your territory, too.” He said. “You’re the one who’ll be kicking people out of it now.”

“I don’t think Max is going to like me.” She grumbled. 

“Why not?”

She was quiet for a moment, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “Because he’ll see me as a threat.”

“Max isn’t like that.”

“You’re just saying that now because he’s your sire.”

“No, I’m saying it because I mean it.” Dwayne rested his cheek on the top of her head, his hand absentmindedly rubbing circles on her back. “Max wants a family. Now you’re part of that family.”

He sounded so sure of his own words that Vera was actually feeling inclined to believe him for a moment. “Parents don’t tend to like me.”

“Anyone who can handle having Paul in their pack can handle you.”

She scoffed. “He isn’t that bad.”

“Maybe to you.” Dwayne chuckled. He tightened his arms around her when he realized that his jokes weren’t very reassuring. “Max is a good man. A good sire.”

“Why?” Vera asked. “What does he do that makes you like him so much?”

“Well,” Dwayne situated them a bit better, getting more comfortable. “He’s fair. He acts stern, but...he sees himself as our father.”

“Don’t they always?” Vera grumbled. 

“He calls David his prodigal son, but he always wanted a whole family. He ended up with the four of us.”

“So, what? He plucked you all up out of the gutter and that makes him a good guy?”

“Why are you so determined to hate him?”

“I’m not!” she protested. “I’m just...wary.”

“Max gave us new lives.” Dwayne sighed. “He found us back in San Francisco after we got ourselves in some trouble with another vampire.”

Vera had to snort in amusement at that. “Seriously? Who’d you pick a fight with? Dracula?”

“Well…”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He flashed her a smile. “How were we supposed to know who he was?”

“Humans really have no self preservation instincts, do they?”

“Apparently not.” Dwayne chuckled, squeezing her. 

“How long ago was it?”

“1906, same year as that big earthquake. Tore the whole city apart...it was the perfect time for four vampires to start learning how to survive, with all that chaos. People were dead, more were missing...nobody noticed a few more disappearing here and there.”

“Is that why Max and, uh...Vlad were there?” Vera asked. 

“I imagine.” Dwayne shrugged. “We resisted at first. David was especially pissed off.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Vera laughed quietly. 

“But...we took to the lifestyle pretty quickly.”

“And that’s that?” Vera asked. 

“That’s that.” he shrugged. “Max wants to be a father figure. He turned David because he wanted a son, and he taught him everything he knew. Then, he decided David needed companions, and he happened to find me not long after. Then the others. Max isn’t a bad guy, Vera. You’ll see.”

“That’s what everybody says about their own sire.” she said, looking out at the black waves as they crashed against the sand just a few feet in front of her. “Everyone wants to talk their sires up, because without them, we’re nothing. Just because your own sire is nice to you doesn’t mean he’ll be nice to me.”

“What’s so bad about your own that you think ours is so awful?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, Vera’s mouth pressing into a thin line. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Dwayne opened his eyes, rubbing his cheek over the top of her head affectionately. 

“I’m not.”

“I know that you are, though.”

Vera let out a frustrated noise, then heaved a sigh. Maybe talking about this could be good for her. Maybe verbalizing thoughts and fears that she’d been living with for centuries could finally help her get over them...and if anyone was a good listener, it would be Dwayne. 

“Okay, fine.” she said. “What’s so bad about my sire? Everything. Everything is what’s bad about him, literally.”

“Where’s he from?” Dwayne asked. 

“The old country. Like...the old old country.”

“Why are you so reluctant to talk about him?” Dwayne’s voice was low and gentle, barely audible over the sound of the waves. 

“Because he’s got a reputation.” she fiddled with the hem of her shorts. “Most older vampires know of him. You guys might not, and if we had a different situation, I’d say it should stay that way.”

“That serious, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Hmm.” Dwayne’s chest rumbled. “The others should hear about this, too.”

“Yeah, they should.” she sighed again, her voice small. She felt small in general, all curled up in Dwayne’s lap like that. Small and helpless. She wasn’t, though, and she didn’t want them to think that she was. So she cleared her throat, trying to muster as much confidence as she could, ignoring the mild twisting in her gut. “I’ll tell you guys everything tomorrow night.”

Dwayne made a small, impatient sound. 

“Max will want to hear, too.”

“That’s a good point,” he admitted. “You know, I still need to hunt for you…”

Vera perked up slightly. The thought of food made the tight feeling in her chest loosen up slightly, and she looked at Dwayne eagerly. “Yes, please.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her as he stood and set her back on her feet. “Then let’s go find some snacks, Princess.”

-0-

“You know, we don’t have to do this. We could just go back to the cave--”

“What happened to that tough attitude you had a few days ago?” David raised an eyebrow, looking amused as he pulled Vera off the back of his bike.

“I’m still tough,” she growled, knowing that he could very easily feel how nervous she was. 

“Come on, babe,” Paul parked his bike next to David’s and bounded over to her. “You’ll be fine.”

“We’d never let anything happen to ya,” Marko said, following Paul. 

Vera knew he was telling the truth, but it didn’t make her feel any better. She had barely slept the entire day, waking up restless and on edge as soon as the sun disappeared, and it had taken a good deal of coaxing from David to even get her to leave the roost. They took Star and Laddie to the boardwalk, dropped them off with some cash, and then headed off to Max’s house.

David told Vera along the way that Star and Laddie weren’t allowed to know where Max lived. They really weren’t allowed to know anything about him in general, in order to protect him, so when the pack walked up to the front gate of their sire’s home, it was only the four boys who accompanied Vera. She didn’t mind; having Star around would have only put her more on edge, probably, and she had been glad to leave the halfling behind. 

As she faced the gated bridge that led to Max’s completely normal-looking, Californian home, Vera did everything she could to act confident. She squared her shoulders, held her chin up, and pretended that she had nothing to worry about...but the boys could see right through the facade, and as they joined her, they all fell into a little formation. In moments, Vera was surrounded by them, David offering his arm while the others stepped into their spots behind. It made her feel better, knowing that they were all there to protect her...but at the same time, she still wished they were all out wandering the boardwalk. 

“So brave,” David sneered as she took his arm. 

“Shut up.” she growled, vaguely aware of Dwayne’s hand on her lower back. 

“Relax,” Marko purred. 

“Don’t you dare tell me to relax, Marko, I swear—“

The barking of a rapidly approaching dog interrupted her, the sound of paws thumping rhythmically against the wooden walkway drawing her attention away from the boys. A big white hellhound was barreling towards the gate, all teeth and rage, and although it looked like it wanted to tear her limbs off, the sight of such a beast made Vera temporarily forget why she was so anxious. Even as it barked and snarled and threw itself against the gate, she thought that it was absolutely adorable.

“Oh, look at you!” She squealed as the boys all jumped back. When she took a step forward, David tried to yank her towards him, but she slipped away easily, too focused on this hellhound to care. 

“You’re such a big handsome boy,” she said, in a voice that made Paul jealous. 

“No fair,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “Why’s the dumb dog get all that?”

Marko glanced at the taller blond nervously. “Don’t call him dumb, you remember what happened last time?”

Paul groaned, rolling his eyes at the memory of nearly losing a hand. 

The dog stopped barking as Vera approached, falling silent as it sniffed the air around her. The vicious look on its face was gone, replaced by curiosity, and when Vera ignored David’s irritated warnings and reached over the gate to pet it, the animal whined. 

“You must be Thorn,” Vera cooed, scratching behind its ears. “What a big, brave, hell-y hellhound you are, yes you are!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Paul said as he watched. 

“What?” Vera asked, looking over her shoulder at him. 

“Thorn doesn’t like any of us.” Marko huffed. “Why’s he like you so much?”

“Well...he can probably smell my sire on me,” Vera said. “Might remind him of home. Hellhounds usually like me because of that.”

“...Home?” Paul asked. 

“I’ll tell you later.”

“But I wanna know now!” he whined.

Thorn growled at him. 

“Thorn!” a male voice called from the other end of the little bridge. 

Vera immediately stiffened. The front door of the house had opened, and in it stood a man, wearing a very stylish suit and horn rimmed glasses. Thorn heeded his master’s call, giving Paul one last woof before trotting back towards Max. His departure freed the front gate, and David brushed past Vera to open it, taking her hand and leading the gang across the walkway. 

“Boys,” Max greeted as they approached him. He offered David a stern smile, one which David didn’t return, and when Max’s eyes fell upon Vera all tucked up against his side, his eyes narrowed slightly. “And you must be Vera.”

She didn’t like that he knew her name. It was inevitable that he’d find out what it was, but still...she kept clinging to the hope that maybe, he wouldn’t learn too much about her. The boys seemed so convinced that Max was just an annoying father, but as Vera took him in, she could see that behind the trendy, 80s-dad facade, there was an old, powerful vampire, and those were the kind she didn’t get along with very well. 

“Well, come in, everyone, before dinner gets cold. I made sure to get all your favorites, boys.” Max stepped to the side, inviting them over the threshold in a very courteous way, one that suggested he had nothing to fear from the boys or Vera.

“You shouldn’t have,” David sneered sarcastically as he walked in. 

“Would it kill you to be nice?” Vera hissed. 

He rolled his eyes.

Max noticed the exchange with a bemused expression on his face. “Go on in and sit down. The table’s already set.”

The house was nice. It wasn’t incredibly extravagant, by any means, but it was perfectly well decorated, modern art that Vera didn’t quite know how to appreciate hanging on the walls. Everything was clean and organized, not a speck of dust in sight, as opposed to the state of decay the boys kept their lair in. Max seemed to enjoy playing the role of a video store owner, and his home reflected that; if anyone came to visit, they wouldn’t see a single item out of place, nor would they have any reason to be suspicious of him. There were no torture devices, no loose vials of blood sitting around, no skulls or human skin nailed up. It looked so...normal. 

Vera almost stopped to wonder why exactly she was so nervous...and then she heard the whimpering.

“Geez, Max,” Paul remarked as they rounded the corner and entered the dining room, “you really shouldn’t have.”

“Well, fresh caught is always the best,” Max said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Hell yeah,” Marko growled, lips pulled back in a grin. 

The dining room table was covered in an array of meats, from a suckling pig in the center to a rack of ribs at the end. Six chairs surrounded the feast, plates and cutlery set out at each spot, with big glass goblets already half full of blood ready and waiting. Next to each chair stood a human, frozen due to both fear and Max’s vampire magic, a couple of them shaking and considerably more conscious than the others. 

Max walked to his place at the head of the table, Thorn at his side as he took his seat. David sat at the far end, facing him, his eyes dark and hungry as he held himself back. Dwayne sat at David’s left side, Vera at his right, while Paul and Marko took the remaining two chairs and tried not to completely lose their minds. They were shaking almost as much as the humans were, Paul looking at his blood donor eagerly while Marko held a little sneer on his face that suggested he was about ten seconds from ripping his apart.

“Dig in, everyone,” Max said, taking his cloth napkin and tucking it into his shirt collar. “But please try not to make a mess. There’s more than enough here for each of you.”

David immediately grabbed the arm of his meal, sinking his fangs in and taking a drink while Max preferred to drain his into the goblet he had set out for himself. Vera could only watch, stunned, as the carnage began, and before long, she was joining in. The human Max had caught for her was a middle aged clergyman, and she had to tear through his holy sleeve to get to his flesh. 

She didn’t mind, though; she very rarely ever got to eat members of the clergy. They were generally too much work to hunt down, and since she had an aversion to churches, well...like most vampires, she tended to leave them alone. It was hard to nab them without making a spectacle and letting the entire town know that something was amiss. So, all things considered, a little bit of extra work involving a mouthful of fabric was worth it. This was like a special treat for her, and she couldn’t help but drain him all in one go, still holding on even after he had collapsed in a bloodless heap on the floor. 

When she looked up, she realized that Max was watching her. 

“So,” he said, speaking over the hellish sounds of the others slurping up their meals, “I believe some congratulations are in order. Welcome to the family, Vera.”

She swallowed her last mouthful of blood and looked at him. “Uh...thanks. I-I mean, thank you.”

Max picked up his silverware, cutting a slice of ham for himself. “Where are you from, Vera?”

“I wander,” she said, following suit and stabbing her fork into a raw steak. 

“I’ve surmised that much,” Max chuckled good-naturedly. “I meant where are you from originally.”

“...oh.” She cleared her throat somewhat awkwardly. “Italy.”

“Italy!” Max exclaimed. “Such a lovely region. I haven’t visited The Mediterranean since I left the old country myself. If I didn’t have the shop here, perhaps I’d take a trip...have you been back recently?”

“No,” she crossed and uncrossed her legs, trying to act like she wasn’t fidgeting. She took a bite of her steak, focusing on the blood as it trickled down her throat. 

Max reached for his goblet, raising the blood to his lips and taking a drink. “And your sire, is he still in Europe?”

Vera almost choked on her food. 

By this point, the boys were all watching. Paul was licking blood off his lips while Marko still had his dinner’s forearm in his mouth, but David and Dwayne were both focused solely on the conversation at hand, their eyes narrowed slightly as they listened. 

When she realized that everyone was waiting, Vera coughed into her fist, clearing her throat. “Y-yes, he is.”

Max’s eyes darkened, despite the smile on his face. “You know you need to tell me about him, Vera.”

“There’s not much to tell,” she lied, turning back to her steak. “Just an ancient vampire, out there in the old country. Not very exciting.”

“Exciting or not, I’d still prefer to know who he is.” Max said. 

She shrugged, reaching for her glass to take a nervous drink. “I doubt you’d know him.”

“When you drink that blood, you’ll be joining our family.”

She froze, hand on the stem of the glass.

“I’m sure your sire will be able to feel it. I’d hate to be rude and not even know his name in the event he visits one day.”

Vera stared at the blood—Max’s blood—as her fingers tightened around the stem. “You don’t want him to visit.”

“Oh?” Max asked, appearing as relaxed as ever. “Why not?”

“Because of who he is.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “And what he can do.”

Dwayne and David glanced at each other. 

When Max spoke again, his voice was softer, gentler than before. “What is your sire’s name, Vera?”

With a great deal of effort, she opened her eyes again, still staring into the blood rather than at any of them. 

“Asmodeus.” She said. “My sire is Asmodeus.”