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sordidmusings · 1 year ago

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Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x Reader)

Art by Capitanpoops (link keeps expiring QnQ)

A/N: Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p

Word Count: ~4 k

Warnings: afab!reader (no pronouns), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection

amab!Version

Next ->

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”

“I’m quaking.”

“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.

“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully. You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.

After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to pamper yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.

You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana. You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.

“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.

“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”

Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.

“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.

Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.

Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face. You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”

Silence.

You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.

“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied. At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.

“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.

“Clown trade?”

He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”

You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”

Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your perfume. All was still for a few breaths too long.

“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation. Easier said than done when he’s only a head.

You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.

Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.

The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful giggles burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling laughter, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”

Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.

You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.

Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.

While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.

With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your pretty eyes and pretty smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-

You’d love him.

Fuck.

You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.

“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.

Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”

Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.

“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.

Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of orchid in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and amber at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine.

You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.

“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You bopped his forehead with a finger in warning against further sass.

“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”

The outburst was immediate.

“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”

Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.

The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted?

When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”

You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is so pretty.”

He ignored you. As expected.

“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”

He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?

Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.

“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”

After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.

You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.

You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh in a modest slip. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you giggled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.

“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.

Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”

Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.

Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.

He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how your body felt under his hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.

The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.

All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.

Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.

Next->

#buggy x reader #opla buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x y/n #buggy the clown #one piece #buggy fluff #opla #opla buggy #one piece x reader #one piece live action #my writing #gn reader #afab reader #x reader

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oneluckygoose · 2 months ago

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Continuation:

Walburga and Orion are horrible: controlling and abusive and manipulative. They destroy their children. Unfortunately for them, James Potter exists.

Sirius starts off wanting to please his parents and be everything they want him to be; it's how they raised. That changes. Sirius always had a fire inside him that his parents could only push down for so long. Once he gets into Gryffindor, everything changes. And, fair warning, it doesn't end pretty.

Regulus' relationship with Orion and Walburga is that of a child who has watched their older sibling be abused for rebellion and is fucking terrified of that happening to him. He hates them, but he has to please them to save his own skin.

!!!Neither of the Black children are bad for their respective reactions to abuse. That is not something they can control, but is only something they have to work to heal, and they do.!!!!

Also, all the Skittles are in Slytherin for being ambitious, cunning, and calculating. Not because they are evil.

Not all Slytherins are pure blood fucks who toss around slurs and unforgivable curses while chanting "praise the dark lord". Some of them are good/some of them don't deserve treatment as if they were. Understanding this is essential to James' character development.

Not Snape though, he is exactly what it says on the surface. Sure, he loves a muggle born, but he also is obsessed with her, manipulated her, called her slurs, and hurt the people she loved. He has no such qualms with being as horrible as possible to anyone else. Not saying James and Sirius were good, but Snape wasn't a fuckin' hero either. "Always." BITCH THAT"S CREEPY NOT ROMANTIC.

How long does it take Lily to realize Snape is the worst person on the planet earth? Much, much too long. He calls her mudblood and that is the last straw.

Also fuck JKR's timeline (also just fuck JKR), I don't even understand how the prank could happen before Snape's Worst Memory or after 5th year so the cannon fuckery is going to happen mainly in 5th year and around the prank. I have a plan laid out, and it shouldn't change its cannon compliment status too heavily.

I've put in a lot of OCs and worldbuilding elements in the story. It's still the Marauder's story, I just filled out the world in a lot of places I see it lacking a lot. Also, whose to say that the Marauders' days at Hogwarts weren't just as dangerous and insane as Harry's? Hogwarts is a strange place where a lot of strange things happen, I plan on using that.

For this final one, I just want to emphasise it by saying: The thing under this is very important.

Nothing will be glossed over. I see a lot of vagueness about the Cruciatus curse, and just, no. People need to see in detail what shapes the characters and why they are the way they are, especially Regulus and Sirius. I'll do CWs before every chapter, but I'm not holding back. It'll be graphic, it'll be skin crawling, but maybe that's the point. Remus goes through torture every month, that needs to be known. Sirius and Regulus are broken by their parents, that needs to be known. Mary was raped and assaulted by blood purists, that needs to be known. Things won't be pretty, they never have been with the Marauders. But maybe that's the most beautiful thing about them. Things aren't pretty, but they find a way to love despite that. (James Potter tends to have a large hand in that, too)

There is and will be a lot more to this story than mentioned, and even still I feel like I've given away too much. I guess this is just for those reading to know what they'd be getting into. I heed and hawed over writing this for a very long time, but now I'm actually doing it! Currently upload schedule is fairly inconsistent because I am in school, and I don't think that'll change for a long while. Unfortunately I plan on putting a lot of things in here, so it's going to be a long fic. As of writing this, I already have 31k for just four chapters, one of which isn't even done. But, I'm trying to do the best that I can writing this, so I really really hope you enjoy!

Also, I know I'm writing very seriously in these descriptions, but my normal writing style isn't like this. I just didn't want to put an absurd amount of gags in my information post(s whoops), lol.

House of the Rising Suns

Info post about my Marauders era fanfic! It will be edited and added to as things about it change, so if you plan to regularly read, I suggest checking in every once in a while to see if something's changed.

It will be posted on Ao3 exclusively, so if you see it anywhere else it means someone has stolen my work. Don't be afraid to report it.

Here's a link to the first chapter: Dear Minerva

It is a fic starting in 1971 and ending 1981 following the Marauders, the Slytherin Skittles, and the Valkyries through their journey through Hogwarts and the First Wizarding War. I don't yet know if it is cannon compliment or not, but I will figure it out with time. All posts I make about it will be tagged with "#house of the rising suns" and "#house of the rising suns oneluckygoose"

Here are the characters that will have POVs: Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, Mary MacDonald, Regulus Black, Barty Crouch Jr., Evan Rosier, Pandora Lovegood (Rosier), Frank Longbottom, Alice Longbottom, and (ew) Severus Snape.

For the shippers out there --- Endgame ships: Wolfstar (Remus and Sirius), Jily (James and Lily), Dorlene (Dorcas and Marlene), Rosekiller (Evan and Barty), Fralice (Frank and Alice), the Lovegoods (I don't actually know their ship name, but it's Pandora and Xenophillious). --- Ships in the story: Jegulus (James and Regulus), Marylily (Mary and Lily), Pandalily (Pandora and Lily), Remus and Marlene, Sirius and Mary, and characters with OCs that I've added (none of them will be endgame or treated like well known and endgame ships, they're all destined to end eventually).

NO SMUT AT ALL! I'm asexual, I do not feel comfortable writing it. It'll happen eventually, but it won't be explicit. When it does, though, it will be fade to black or very very vague descriptions. They're teenagers, I get that, but I refuse to write it in detail. Sorry, but no.

There is a greater description of it all under the cut! (and in the reblog, this got really long)

!!!!Disclaimer: The last one is extremely important, so if you don't want to read all of these, at least scroll down and read the last bullet point (which will be in the reblog)!!!!!

Scottish and Desi James; Welsh/Jewish Lily, Remus, and Severus; French/English Blacks; IRISH Peter; SCOTTISH Marlene; Dutch Dorcas; French Mary; British Rosiers; and British Barty, Italian/British Frank, Taiwanese/British Alice.

Jegulus, personally I think Jegulus is a very important thing for James’ growth and for Regulus to distance himself from his family’s ideals, but I also don’t think it could ever last. It will probably be a 5th-6th would be a 6th year arc and they break up after Regulus gets the Mark beginning of James' 7th.

Endgame Jily because their story is one of my favorites, and if I do make it a canon compliment ,then I would need to write it with natural progression. Also I just love Jily.

Get ready for a lot of 70's music. It becomes a big deal when Lily brings her record player in second year and then when Queen debuts in 1973 and Sirius falls in love.

I’m on the fence about making it a canon compliment because I choose to be HAPPY, but I don’t need to make that decision now and so I won’t (also I like the idea that Peter is good, screw me)

Aroace Peter, my little boy loves his friends and doesn’t understand why he doesn’t love like they do. A dating spree probably in 5th year but he just cannot figure out how to do the romance thing.

No sex, sorry guys we’re keeping this M rated. I’m asexual and do not feel comfortable writing that in the slightest, it would all be fade to black

Asexual Lily, to whoever HCed that, can I marry you? I love ace Lily and I think it just adds an arc to her story that is normally extremely sexualized. My girl will punch you in the face if you look even a tiny bit lower than her eyes.

*Side note* Lily's taste is also so funny. Like it goes: badass, rolemodel, stunning woman to badass, loving, protective, also stunning woman to badass, ethereal, insane, overwhelmingly beautiful woman to that one guy over there making love eyes and doing finger guns. God I love Jily so much. *End of side note*

Asexual Regulus. I am sick and tired of seeing Jegulus being completely sexualized in every single piece of content I encounter. I firmly believe their story can be extremely compelling and beautiful without falling into sexual stereotypes and just literally making everything about them sexual. All that aside, being asexual makes a lot of sense for Regulus' character, in my opinion. I want to make it clear I'm not doing this just to change Jegulus, I genuinely believe that Regulus' character is compelling with him being asexual, and I don't see a lot of asexual representation in the marauders fandom, so why not add in something good? (There'll be a lot more to Regulus' character though, trust me.)

More in reblog

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gubler-me-up · 3 years ago

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Not That Kind of Tie

Request(s): Pls write me some smutty Hotch if that’s okay w you 🥺

heyy baby, could you write a smut one shot, with aaron hotchner, where he is a dom and the reader is a sub with a lot of degradation and him calling the reader names and just being mean?

if your not comfortable with it, that’s completely fine!! i love your writing and i hope you have a wonderful day xx

A/N: Thank you for the requests, anons! I know I said I would post this on the weekend but I’ve never written a Hotch fic so it was hard to make a concept. Had to take several breaks to ask myself if I was even writing this properly??? Hopefully it’s good and you like it! Idk if I’ll write another Hotch fic tho i dont think is for me unfortunately 🤟🏾😔 but this was a good change of character to write for. I hope you enjoy and happy reading!

Couple: Dom!Hotch/Sub!reader

Category: Smut (NSFW 18+)

Content warning: Penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation, fingering, spanking, swearing, male ejaculation (in mouth), slight blowjob, slight bondage

Word count: 3k

——————–

You knocked on Hotch’s office door to give him the files you stayed behind to finish up. You had slacked off a bit on your paperwork for Hotch and didn’t want to leave him waiting any longer. You had no idea why he had given you so much paperwork to do but you weren’t upset about it. He liked your work and must have trusted you enough to work diligently on them. Besides, you weren’t mad about spending a few extra hours with Hotch.

“Come in,” Hotch said.

You opened the door. You greeted Hotch with a gentle smile before you walked in. He only peaked up to see who it was before he looked back down to carry on with his work. Typical behaviour for him.

You slowly approached his desk and dropped the files on it, deeply hoping he would look up at you. Something about him simultaneously ignoring you but favouring you enough to keep you around longer than the rest made you curious. You wanted to look into his eyes to see if the answers laid there.

He didn’t look up again. He diligently worked through his own paperwork, not giving you the attention your curiosity craved. However, your curiosity would just have to wait.

You pivoted around to leave his office. You walked towards the door faster than you walked towards his desk. You doubted your speed would cause him to look up. If your slow, eye-catching walk up to his desk didn’t pique his interest, you doubted anything would.

“Y/N.”

You turned around surprised to hear him utter your name. He rarely called you by your first name. It sounded monotone, as usual, but there was something in it that sparked a fire in you. It didn’t sound as if he needed you for any reason in particular. It seemed he just called you to call your name. You turned around to flash a smile his way.

“Yes, sir?” You asked.

“Close the door and take a seat,” he said.

You would have questioned him further but he immediately looked back down at his paperwork to continue filling it out. You didn’t mind his demands since any time in his presence was a good time to you. You were happy to be so close to him in his office even if it was just to hear him talk to you for a few seconds.

You closed the door as he instructed and made your way over to the chair in front of his desk. As soon as you did he looked up at you. There was no-out-of-the-ordinary expression on his face. Then again he was the master of hiding any visible emotions.

“Y/N, I want to talk to you about your work,” he said.

You looked at him worried. It didn’t seem as if he was upset about your work. Then again even when he was upset he sounded calm. However, after working with him for five years you knew him well enough to know he would have addressed any concerns he had earlier. He would never push off talking to you about your work for so long.

“I don’t think that’s what you want to talk about,” you said.

Hotch broke his usual calm, neutral demeanour when you made your bold statement. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at what you had said. You looked at him with a smirk as you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’ve known you for far too long to know you wouldn’t want to talk to me about my paperwork if there was something wrong with it,” you said.

“I don’t want to criticize your work. Your paperwork is always perfect,” he said.

A smile appeared on your face but you quickly pressed your lips together to refrain it. He had praised you for your work before which was always music to your ears. His words had such a way with you. His words could wrap around you like a nice bow or like his hands around your neck. His large, strong hands probably capable of bringing you to your knees.

“Y/N?” He asked.

You blinked twice as you snapped out of your inappropriate thoughts. You were pretty sure the fact you two were the only ones left in the bureau was getting to you. You smiled at him to show him you were all there. With his level of profiling skills, you doubted he believed your mind was on track with the conversation at hand.

“Yes, sir,” you said.

“As I was saying, your paperwork is perfect but sometimes I feel as if your mind wanders other places leaving you to do your paperwork past the end of the day,” he said.

“I’m not distracted. I like staying behind to do my paperwork late,” you said.

“You stay as late as me some nights,” he said.

That was a true fact he stated. You would stay behind as late as he would on some nights to do your paperwork. You both would leave at the same time which meant you got to witness Hotch after hours more than anyone else on the team did. It always felt so intimate between you two whenever you were in the elevator leaving the office.

Every time you two would stand next to each other and talk about whatever came to mind. When your hands brushed against each other, you could feel yourself holding back from holding it. He would never move away from you either. He would stand with high confidence next to you as he talked with fire in his voice. It was hard resisting a man like him.

One time your resistance was at an all-time low. You had to have him. You needed him to indulge in you in depths he never knew you had. He gazed at you a second too long in the elevator once and you leaned towards him. He didn’t move or flinch in the slightest.

He let your lips land on his as you embraced him in a desperate kiss. He grabbed your ass and squeezed it as he indulged in your kiss. It ended as soon as the elevator doors opened but you were hooked. The feeling of his lips, his tongue, his hands. You craved it again.

“Is that an issue? It’s just a preference of mine to get my paperwork out during after-work hours. You know, get to let my hair down and loosen up,” you said.

“I can tell,” he said.

His eyes gazed down at your halfway unbuttoned blouse before they looked back up at you. You hadn’t forgotten you had unbuttoned your blouse. You had gotten hot while working so you unbuttoned it. You were going to button it up before going into his office but you decided to leave it as it was, hoping he’d noticed. You were glad he finally did.

“Are you going to say this goes against dress code?”

“You’re not on the clock, so it doesn’t. Anyway, please don’t make it a habit to stay late so frequently to complete paperwork,” he said.

“I understand, sir. I won’t distract you any further,” you said.

“Distract me?” He asked.

You smirked. “Yeah, your eyes seemed unfocused for a second.”

He stared at you for a second before he shook his head with a small smirk on his face. He looked down at his case file and closed it. You watched as he shuffled all his files together to put them in a pile. You guessed it was time for him to leave the office for the night. However, you weren’t quite ready to go.

“Sorry for inappropriately looking at you. It was unprofessional of me,” he said as he stood up.

“No, it’s okay,” you said as you shot up from your seat.

He raised an eyebrow at your eager ejection from your seat. To say you were excited to be in an elevator again with him was an understatement.

You were curious what would happen if you went just a little further this time. Would he deny you or entice you?

You wanted to know what could happen before you two entered the elevator. You leaned over his desk to get close enough to his tie. You watched him watch you grab it out of where it was tucked behind his suit jacket. He didn’t move or flinch at your touch. He let you carry on.

You looked down at his tie and caressed your thumb on it. Quality silk for a quality man. A flood of thoughts passed by your mind you just had to voice aloud. You looked up at him as you bit your lip.

“Would you use this to tie my hands together?” You asked.

His face almost broke when you said that. He had to press his lips together to hold his smirk back. You could already see past his stone-cold demeanour.

“It’s not that kind of tie,” he said.

You let go of his tie to lean back. You placed your hands out in front of him with your wrists touching. He looked at them long as if you had presented the greatest temptation to him. He then looked back up at you to see the sensuality in your eyes.

“It can be,” you said.

“Y/N-“

“Don’t tell me you’re against punishing me for going against the dress code,” you said.

You said all the words you knew would tempt him to his core. His alpha male personality mixed with his sex drive wouldn’t dare give up the opportunity to punish you for breaking a rule.

“Are you begging?” He asked.

“You could say so. Would you take me more seriously if I begged on my knees?” You asked.

He didn’t answer you. He just stuck his index finger up and twirled it. You understood your cue and turned around. You sat on the edge of his desk with your hands behind you.

No words were exchanged between you two. Just the feeling of his tie wrapping around your wrists and your heart pounding against your chest. You felt the last pull of his tie on your wrists as he tightened it.

“Turn around,” he demanded.

You turned back around to look him directly in his eyes. You could see the full control on his face. His eyes pierced through your core. You enjoyed the way his look could even make you submit. You would have let him fuck you in the elevator but his office would do.

Hotch shoved his thumb in your mouth. He cupped your chin and pulled you close to him. He leaned in close to examine your desperate face. You smirked around his thumb.

“I never knew you’d submit to being a whore so easily. I would have done this sooner if I knew,” he said.

He removed his thumb from your mouth before grabbing you by your face. He pulled you towards him but your face was the only part of you that could reach that far. Your hips hit his desk hard as the top of you was slightly bent forward.

He placed a quick, aggressive kiss on your lips before he pulled away to look at you. You breathed heavily as you stared at him. If his kiss could knock the wind out of you, you were positive you were going to be breathless after what he had planned for you.

He let go of your face to make his way behind you. His hand caressed down your back. It curved over your ass and slipped under your skirt. You yelped as soon as you felt his fingers dig into your skin. He squeezed it even harder when he heard you yelp.

“I thought you were begging to be a whore,” he said as he lifted your skirt.

“I am,” you said.

He spanked your ass. “That’s not begging, whore.”

“Please treat me like a whore,” you begged.

He spanked your ass again. “Beg to be fucked like a whore.”

“Fuck me like a whore,” you begged.

He spanked your ass again. “Again.”

“Fuck me like the whore I am,” you begged.

He spanked your ass one last time before he moved your underwear to the side. You bit your bottom lip in excitement. The area of your ass where he had spanked you stung immensely but it was a little taste of how he’d treat you.

You craved everything he had to offer you. The caress of his hand. The hair pulling. The fucking. You wanted to experience it all. And you would get exactly what you wished for.

He grabbed a bundle of your hair in his hand and pulled you halfway up. His other hand was up to no good between your legs. You moaned aloud as you felt him rapidly flicking your clit.

Your legs started to shake the more he flicked. He then slapped your pussy with a brass harshness. You yelped at the feeling but it wasn’t in a bad way. It sent a shock through you that you had never felt before.

“Why the fuck are you shaking?” He asked.

“Because you’re-“

He cut you off by shoving two fingers in you. He pumped in and out of you with speed as he indulged in the sound of you shrieking. He placed his lips against your ear.

“I don’t want a whore like you to answer. I just need you to take whatever I give you. Understood?” He said.

“Yes,” you shrieked.

“Yes fucking who?” He asked.

“Yes, sir,” you shrieked.

He pulled his fingers out of you. You heard him fumble around with his belt and soon his pants zipper. You gasped when you felt his hard dick hit your ass as it popped out of his underwear.

You couldn’t see it but you knew you were about to take a lot of dick. Your heart raced immensely at the thought of him repeatedly pounding into you. You bit your bottom lip just fantasizing about it.

“Your whore pussy better be able to take my whole cock,” he hissed in your ear.

You felt yourself throbbing down below at his words. You were more than ready to take him whole. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Yes, sir,” you said.

He did just what he said and shoved his whole cock into you. You screamed as he pounded into you over and over again, giving you no breaks. He shoved you down onto his desk to get you into a 90-degree angle. You definitely felt how deep he could go in the position you were in.

“That’s right, fucking take it like a disgusting whore,” he said.

You did as he asked. You let him rearrange your guts with no questions asked. You knew from the moment he kissed you and grabbed your ass in the elevator a few days back he wanted to do this to you.

The way he rammed his dick into you made you think the desk would tumble over. The force he had was remarkable. You couldn’t imagine getting fucked better than what he was giving you.

“Does your disgusting mouth want my cum?” He asked.

“Of course, sir,” you moaned.

He pulled out of you and immediately grabbed your arm. He yanked you off the desk to stand you upright. He pulled you down to the ground. You didn’t hesitate to go on your knees for him.

You looked at his dick and saw it glistening with your juices that coated it. You licked your lips as you looked up at him with excitement in your eyes. You opened your mouth to show him just how eager you were for him to cum in your mouth.

He grabbed your hair to hold your head in place. He used his other hand to stroke his dick to shoot his cum in your mouth. His dominant look sent chills down your spine. You don’t think you could ever look at him again without craving that look.

“You better not waste a fucking drop, whore,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” you said.

He then stuck his dick into your mouth and you felt his warm cum drip down your throat. You made sure not a single drop went to waste by giving his dick a slight suck. He looked at you pleased that you followed his instructions, even did a little more for him.

“That’s how I treat desperate whores,” he said.

You took your mouth off his dick. You smirked up at him. You could just imagine yourself being his whore day in and day out. Now that you got a taste, you wanted more.

“Then let me be your desperate whore more often,” you said.

He smirked as he let go of your hair. He pulled up his pants and underwear to fix himself up. He then turned his attention to you. He pulled you up by your arm and turned you around.

You could feel him untying your hands to set you free. You sighed to yourself because you wanted more of him. You could only hope the feeling was mutual.

You turned back around to see him shining his tie around his neck to tie it. You smirked as you stopped his hands from tying it. He looked at you with a questionable look in his eyes but his smile still remained.

“I guess it is that kind of tie,” you chuckled.

He smirked. “Only for you.”

“Doe this mean I can be your whore frequently?” You asked.

“Of course,” he said.

“Can we start in the elevator?” You asked.

He chuckled before leaning in to give you a kiss that you desperately wanted to feel again. You felt his hands wrap around you as he embraced you deeper into the kiss. As much as you loved experiencing his dominant side, experiencing the softer side of Hotch was the best reward you could ever crave.

—–

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection @slutforthegubes @pinkdiamond1016 @spencerreidsthings @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @slutforsr @bxtchboy69 @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @agentadhd @fanofalltheficsx @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @dinsprettygirl @multixfandomwriter @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @laneybobeczko-g @littlewierdalien @cynbx @calm-and-doctor @muffin-cup @jessalyn-jpeg @princesssmooshie @solitarypeachh @spensual @gubler-me-swallow-me

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #hotch x y/n #hotch smut #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut

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metalheddie · 3 years ago

Text

In Full Bloom

summary: Spencer goes to the flower shop 1 (one) time and falls in love somehow.

tw: mention of medication, Diana's care facility, Diana lashing out mention

word count: 3.9k

a/n: Alright y'all!!! It's finally here! My first ever fic :) I apologize if some of it is a bit clunky or awkward... this is my first time writing and posting anything like this. I hope y'all like this as much as I liked writing it! and this is a Spencer x POC!reader :)

It was early Saturday morning when y/n opened her shop. Unlocking the doors and stepping inside. It was raining pretty heavily, too. She closed her pastel pink umbrella and put it in the basket next to the door. She stopped to take a deep breath, she loved the smell of fresh flowers in the morning. She walked towards the back to turn on her fairy lights and low lighting for her plants and put on her pastel apron with embroidery on the trim. She turned the radio on to the oldies station and Etta James’ Stormy Weather was playing,

Don't know why

There's no sun up in the sky

Stormy weather

Since my man and I ain't together

Keeps raining all of the time...

A perfect song for this morning. Singing to herself, she twirled as she moved towards her supplies, she got to work caring for her flowers and miscellaneous plants around her space.

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A few hours later, a light ting of the bell above the door of the flower shop sounded. Y/n hadn’t looked up from the bonsai she was trimming, as she was too immersed in her work to realize someone had walked in. When she finally looked up, she was surprised to see a tall and handsome stranger staring back at her. In that instant, she felt her heart stop for an eternity. He stood there a bit awkwardly as he waited to be helped. Snapping out of the trance she had previously been in, she walked over to the counter where he was standing.

“Hey there! How can I help you today?”

Her face slightly flushed but it wasn’t so noticeable on her tawny brown skin.

“Hi, um, can you help me find some flowers for- for my mom?”

Y/n noticed that he says this a bit sheepishly, almost as if he’s embarrassed to be getting flowers for his mom. Or maybe he’s just awkward, who’s to say?

“Sure! Is there anything specific you’d like to say with this bouquet?”

“Um, yes...well I just wanted to let her know that I appreciate her and I love her very much. She hasn't been feeling well recently, so I wanted to do this small thing for her just to let her know I’ll always be here…”

Y/n smiled at that. It was always so nice to see a man value his mom so much. It warms her heart.

“Aww, well I'm so sorry that she hasn’t been feeling well. I think that's so sweet of you to do this for her. I get my mom flowers when she’s not feeling well too” y/n says with a smile.

“So,” she says, clapping her hands together softly, “I think the best flowers to get her would be Carnations, pink of course, and daisies!”

Y/n excitedly moves around the counter and beckons him to follow her. He does this with a small smile, admiring how animated she had become.

“Why those specific flowers?” he asks.

“Well,” Y/n started, “Did you know that Carnations symbolize the love for a mother as well as the phrase 'I will never forget you’ ” The daisies mean innocence, motherhood, and purity. That meaning stems from the old Celtic legend. In Norse mythology, it’s known as Freya’s sacred flower. Freya is the goddess of love, beauty, and fertility, so it only makes sense that this would be her flower!” y/n continued excitedly.

The man nodded along in interest, all the while y/n was collecting and arranging the flowers in a lovely bouquet, putting them in a small and tasteful vase. She brought them over to the counter to ring him up, fixing the flowers as she went.

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Spencer’s POV

While on my way to my mom’s care facility, I saw a quaint little flower shop at the corner of the intersection. I decided to stop in and get some flowers for her. She hasn’t been doing well recently… She’s been lashing out at the nurses and is almost always agitated. Hopefully, this small act will remind her of all the love there is in life.

As I pull into the parking lot of the shop I notice the sign, hand-painted with a unique border that reads Fantasy Flower Shoppe. The side of the building is covered with several winding paths of ivy, truly giving it a fairytale cottage feel. The railing up the steps to the entrance has the ivy as well, acting as a guide to the sage green door.

I stepped through the door, mesmerized at the inside of the shop. There were plants and flowers hanging from the ceiling, on wooden tables, in large pots on the ground, and even in a large misty cabinet on the east wall. A small record player radio hybrid was nestled in between a budding avocado tree and a pot of budding bluebells softly playing what I believe to be I’ve Got a Crush on You by Ella Fitzgerald…

I've got a crush on you, sweetie pie

All the day and nighttime, hear me sigh

I’ve never had the least notion

That I could fall with so much emotion…

I looked around the room, searching for someone who could help me, that's when I laid eyes on the most beautiful girl in the world. She had dark, curly hair that fell to her shoulders wrapped in a cream-colored silk bandanna. She wore a cocoa brown dress with a beige long sleeve shirt underneath and an apron with what looks to be hand-embroidered flowers on the hem. I felt as though I was put under her spell as I gazed at her. She hadn’t looked up from her work, being so focused on trimming her bonsai, she hadn’t realized I had walked in.

I let my eyes linger on her a bit longer as I appreciated her focus. She must have felt my eyes on her, for she looked up and met my eyes. I quickly turned away, as to not make her feel uncomfortable, but also to hide the redness rising high on my cheeks. I suddenly realized what I came into the shop for in the first place.

“Hi, um, can you help me find some flowers for- for my mom?” I stuttered out, cursing myself internally for it.

She smiled sweetly and agreed to help me pick out the best flowers for her. She suggested I get Pink Carnations and daisies. I already knew that those would be the best choice, but I loved the sound of her voice. So as an excuse to continue to listen to her, I asked

“Why those specific flowers?”

I watched her eyes light up with a passion I never knew existed and proceeded to tell me the meanings and origins of both flowers.

“-so it only makes sense that this would be her flower!” she said

I nodded along in interest as if I didn’t already know the answer. She became so animated when she talked about the things she cares about. It was refreshing after being in the BAU for this long and witnessing so much hate and sorrow that came with the job. Seeing someone filled with passion and liveliness when it comes to making a career out of their hobbies was a wonderful thing. All this was not to say that I didn’t like being in the BAU. I wouldn’t be able to leave my family there, not now anyway.

Speaking of family, I need to go to the care facility before visiting hours are over.

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Y/n POV

I set the flowers on the counter, tying a silk ribbon around the vase just to add a little flair.

“Alright! That’ll be $10.50.” I said with a smile.

I look up from the register to see him staring at me with a crooked smile. God, he was cute. I wish I was confident enough to ask for his number… Hopefully, I’ll see him again someday. After admiring his features for what seemed like a lifetime, I realized we’ve just been staring at each other since I looked up at him. I start to get a bit insecure. Why has he been staring so long? Is there something on my face? Oh my god is that pesky pimple back?

As y/n was internally freaking out, Spencer on the other hand was basking in her beauty. He couldn’t believe he was standing in the presence of such an ethereal being like her. Her… Oh god. He doesn’t even know her name.

“Um,” y/n stuttered, “Hello? Are you alright?” She lifted her hand to wave it in front of his face to get his attention.

“Oh! I- I- uhh, Sorry about that. I got a bit distracted…” Spencer stumbled over his words like a teenager in love. “What was the total again?” he asked embarrassedly, a blush rising from the bottom of his chest to the tip tops of his ears.

“Oh, um it was $10.50,” she repeated with a newfound shyness, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

Spencer tried not to fumble with his wallet too severely in an effort to save himself any further embarrassment in front of the pretty florist. That plan failed miserably because as soon as he pulled out his cash, several coins flew out of his wallet. He muttered a quick ‘I’m so sorry as he bent down to get them.

What he didn’t notice was y/n bending down to help him. As she collected the few that fell over by the counter and he collected the ones on his side, they both stood up slightly too close together and headbutted each other. It wasn’t hard enough to leave a bruise or bump, but enough to send a shock through both of them.

Y/n stumbled hard enough from the collision and surprise that she almost toppled over. At the last second, the handsome stranger reached out and grabbed her hand, effectively steadying her.

Rubbing her forehead y/n said “I'm so sorry! Are you alright?”

Letting go of her hand, Spencer replied “Oh, no I’m sorry, I didn't even realize you were right there. Is your head ok?” He was genuinely worried if she was ok.

“Oh, I’m fine, no need to worry!” y/n giggled.

Spencer set the money on the counter and put his wallet away. Y/n rang him up and gave him his receipt.

“Oh, wait! Before you go, I wanted to ask if you wanted to add a small card or note…free of charge” y/n said, the last bit a little sheepishly because of what (she hoped) she was implying. Unfortunately for her, Spencer was very dense when it came to flirting, so he didn’t pick up what she meant.

“Really? Thank you…”

y/n grabbed a card with a pretty border and one of her fountain pens. She looked up at him and nodded, waiting for him to start speaking.

“Live the wonderful life that is in you. Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing. I love you, mom. Love, Spencer.”

y/n smiled at that. This was one of the sweetest bouquets she’s ever had the pleasure of putting together, too bad he’ll be gone before she knows it.

“Well Spencer, you're all set! Thank you for stopping in today, I hope to see you again soon,” she says with a smile. Although this encounter was fleeting, she was enamored with him.

“Thank you for all your help. I wouldn't have been able to do this,” he gestured to the vase full of flowers, “without you, um, I’m so sorry I never got your name...”

“Y/n,” she supplied. “and it's no problem! Stop in whenever you'd like!”

With that, he walked out with a small wave and a smile. Y/n sighed happily, knowing that the rest of her day was going to go very well.

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Spencer’s POV

Once I left the shop and was on my way to the care facility, I realized I couldn't stop thinking about her. Like she put me under her spell as soon as I laid my eyes upon her. I want to see her again but it’s not like I get flowers all the time for people… Maybe I should do that, for the sake of the economy and helping out a small business. Also, it makes people feel appreciated, so what's not to like about getting and giving flowers?

By the time I decided that buying flowers for people would be my new gift-giving method, I had arrived at the care facility. I took a deep breath and exited the car. I was nervous to see what kind of day my mom was having. The last time I talked to her nurses, they said she wasn’t doing as well as they had hoped once they put her on new medication. I, of course, still wanted to visit her. She’s my mom, the person that has been there for me always.

After checking in and locating her I greeted her with a smile and a warm hug.

“Oh, Spencer! I’ve missed you so much! I have to tell you about this poem by Jane Austen I read the other day…”

“I can’t wait to hear it, mom.” He said. He was so glad she was having a good day. He wanted to tell her about y/n after she said her piece.

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“ ...and that's why I can never read it again without thinking about Stevie Nicks!” exclaimed Diana.

Spencer was having such a nice time with his mom and he must have lost track of time because when he looked at his watch it was almost the end of visiting hours. It completely slipped his mind to tell his mom about the beautiful girl who runs the flower shop.

“Mom… Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asks, a little out of the blue considering the conversation they were having before.

“Well Spencer, that’s a pretty hard question to answer. I think it all depends on the other person's first impression that they may have had on you before even opening their mouth to speak. Though I’m not sure if I’ve ever experienced that feeling firsthand…” she answered honestly.

Spencer sat there contemplating the advice he was given and said

“I met this girl today… She owns the flower shop just a few minutes away from here. She helped me pick out the flowers I gave you. She was kind and so smart. She knew the meanings of the flowers off the top of her head like it was nothing. Her smile could light up any room and I could tell she was so passionate about her job. I would like to think she would be my first experience of love at first sight…” he rambled hoping he didn’t sound foolish.

Diana looked at him and shook her head lovingly.

“She sounds wonderful, Spencer. Please tell her thank you from me the next time you see her.”

And with that, visiting hours were over and it was time for him to head home.

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The Next Day

The next day Spencer Reid walked into the bullpen with a smile on his face and a pep in his step. He was still a bit giddy from the encounter he had yesterday, playing it over and over in his mind. The perks of having an eidetic memory. Since he works with a bunch of profilers, they were able to analyze his cheerfulness and boil it down to-

“So who’s the special lady?” Derek asked as he walked up to Spencer’s desk with two mugs in his hand, one labeled ‘Spencer Reid’.

Spencer froze, trying to make up a lie to explain his cheerful mood. “I- uh, I was j-just visiting my mom yesterday and she was having a really good day. No other ‘ladies’ in my life, thank you” he said as he snatched his mug from Derek. Tasting it and mentally noting that it needed more sugar.

Derek looked at him and obviously wasn’t convinced, but he dropped it, for now, settling for “Alright pretty boy, if you say so…” he chuckled and walked away, leaving spencer glowing red at his desk.

He folded his arms on his desk and put his head between them to hide his blush. If the day kept going on like this, he might turn into a permanent tomato.

A few hours later, after finishing his paperwork for the case they had finished a few days ago, he headed to Penelope’s office just to visit. In all honesty, she was just as much his best friend as Derek, just in a different way. She always gave him some much-needed positivity in his everyday life, and he will always be forever grateful to her for that.

As she walked into her lair she turned in her swivel chair and greeted him with a happy smile.

“What's Cookin good-lookin?” she teased, hearing from Morgan that something was up with him.

“Ha ha very funny Garcia.” he joked with her internally cursing Morgan for spilling the non-existent beans.

“Sooo…. Who’s the lucky lady that has caught the eye of the wonderful Junior G-Man?” Garcia teased, yet genuinely curious.

“There’s no girl I swear!” he lied through his teeth, and pretty badly at that.

Penelope shot him a look that said “Do not lie to the omnipotent being that is moi, I know all”

Spencer sighed and sat in the other spinny chair in her office and said,

“Yesterday I went to the little flower shop near my moms care facility just to do something nice for her because she hasn't been doing well recently,”

Garcia frowned a little at that and put her hand on his knee, comforting touches are just her thing and he knows that, so he doesn’t push her away, he places his hand on top of hers. He knows how much he cares.

“It was beautiful n there, but what really caught my eye was the girl working there… She was beautiful. She was so kind and she was incredibly smart. Her eyes were like honey in the sun and I’m sure she’s artistic because the sign out front was hand-painted… but all that aside, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.” he continued.

Garcia was practically vibrating in her seat with excitement as he finished. She was just so excited to see him happy.

“Spencer oh my god! She sounds perfect! You need to ask her out like today.” she said while turning to her computer. Spencer has a feeling of what her next question is so he says,

“No, Garcia, I will not tell you her name so you can do a deep dive on her life.” as he side-eyes her. Her face contorted into a pout at his words.

“But Spencer please~, “ she begs. “I can find out all her favorite places so you can take her there for your date!”

“No Garcia… I want to get to know her properly. No FBI intervention. Plus, I want her to take me to her favorite spots because she wants me to, not because I already know what she likes…” he states as he imagines what going on a coffee date with y/n would look like.

“Alright alright fine, but pinky promise that you’ll fill me in on all the details when you eventually take her on a date.” She said while holding her pinky out for him to accept.

“Deal.” he said as he locked pinkies with her.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

As y/n went to start cleaning up for the evening, the light ting of the bell above the shop sounded once more. As tired as she is, she turns and slaps a happy smile on her face

“Hi welcome in! How can I help you today?”

As she turns she sees the handsome man from yesterday, Spencer, if she remembers correctly. He looks even more adorable than before with his sweater vest and all-star chucks. She smiles genuinely now, tucking her curls behind her ears in an attempt to seem more casual.

“Hi again… I um I needed to get some flowers for my friend. She just announced that she’s having another baby and I wanted to congratulate her with something other than future baby items because unfortunately, I have no idea what I would get for her if I went down that route…” he trailed off, stuffing his hands in his pockets and making the Awkward White Person smile, obviously nervous and giving himself away with the rambling.

Y/n was so excited at the news of a baby she immediately got to work.

“Oh my goodness how exciting! Does she know the gender yet?” she asked just so she can accurately style the bouquet.

“Yeah! She’s having a little boy.” He smiles at that and he visibly relaxes. Y/n takes that as a sign that he’s warming up to her a little.

After half an hour of picking out the perfect flowers and placing them into a large vase, y/n finally tied a blue silk ribbon around the neck of it. She added a few finishing touches and voila! Her masterpiece was complete.

All the while Spencer was standing on the other side of the counter watching her work with such adoration in his eyes. He enjoyed watching her work. Adding flair and certain specializations to every bouquet to make them each unique.

After finishing y/n peers to the side of the large vase of flowers to look at Spencer in the eyes. To her surprise, he’s already leaned over and looking at her too. They share a brief moment of admiration of each other before getting embarrassed and looking away like a couple of high school kids.

“So, since this is a gift for a friend, It’ll be on the house…” she says desperately hoping he’ll pick up on the hint this time.

“Oh my god...I - I can’t let you do that. Here,” he takes out his wallet and tries to pull out 35$ in cash.

y/n reaches over and puts her hands over his. “That’s not necessary, really. I don’t mind…” she says this with a warm smile. Just being able to spend these few fleeting moments with him in her shop has brought her so much joy.

“Thank you… That’s so generous of you, but I can’t just let you give me a whole flower arrangement without something in return…” he stalls. “Would you let me take you out for coffee? I know a great spot near the farmers market, and it has a flower booth too…” His hands are trembling a bit but she doesn’t notice because she’s smiling so hard her cheeks are beginning to feel sore.

She nods enthusiastically and says “Yes. Of course, I’ll go out with you.”

She slides him a piece of paper with her number on it and leans over to kiss him on the cheek. He accepts it and flushes so brightly, it rivals that of the sun. They wave goodbye after scheduling their date for Saturday, and y/n could tell that soon this relationship would be in full bloom.

Fin~

tag list:

pls message me if you’d like to be added or removed <3 !!

@ssavanessa22 @boldlyvoid @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @meganskane @ilovespencerreidmarryme @g0lden-cth

#maddies fics <3 #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid au #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x y/n #boldlyreblog

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wonderlandhatter · 4 years ago

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Will you read to me?

Pairing: Spencer x femReader

Summary: You're feeling unsettled after a case, so Spencer helps you get some sleep and get a smile back on your face.

Word count: 1863

Warnings: fluff (is that a warning idk), mentions of an unsub, feeling overwhelmed after an unsub touches you (just your hand and waist nothing in detail). Tiny bit of angst I think mostly fluff though

A/N: Ok so this is my first attempt at writing a fic, it ended up being longer than I thought it would be, anyways if you would like to give me some feedback that would be greatly appreciated, hope someone out there enjoys this, I really liked writing it. Ooh also if I missed any warnings pls tell me.

A/N2: Hey so my old account got deleted so I'm reposting my fics if you have a sec I would appreciate it if you could boost it so i can try and get to where i was, thank you.

It had been a tough case, especially for you, the victimology fit you in every way and so you had been used to draw the unsub out, nothing had gone wrong but you could still feel his hand where he had touched yours, his alluring presence was lingering around you , all you wanted to do was go home and shower this feeling off but first you had to get there.

Unfortunately, there was still 2 hours left in the flight. So, until you did get home you would settle for sleep hoping time would pass faster, though you just couldn’t stop your mind from thinking, well overthinking. Spencer noticed this and it hurt him to see you like this he himself knew nothing had happened but he didn’t like the thought that you had even gone near that creep, to think about what he would have done to you, if the circumstances were different.

He couldn’t imagine what he would do if something had happened, you and him were close, very close, you had first bonded when he noticed your Dr who coin purse on your first day at the BAU, he hadn’t gotten a chance to say anything because at that moment Garcia bubbled into the bullpen announcing that they have a case. but when he saw it again on the jet, he couldn’t resist but to ask if you like the show, you love the show and your face visibly lit up at the mention of it as did his, you both exchanged a few words before Derek piped in to ask if that was the show with the flying phone booth but before Spencer had the chance to correct him, you did. ‘well firstly it’s a Tardis which stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space, secondly it isn’t a phone booth it’s a police box.’ Once you finish you simply smiled at him but before he could answer you piped up again early. ‘ ooh ooh and do you want to know why it’s a police box’, Derek honestly couldn’t care less but he couldn’t bare to take away the joy in your face that was brought by this nerdy little show you clearly loved, Spencer might also have been giving him a look that said ‘don’t you dare say no’, so he decided to indulge you, ‘sure kid tell me why it’s a police box’. Spencer saw your face light up even more if it was even possible, and so you began’ So the Tardis is supposed to change in appearance depending on where it is because of a component that is called ‘the chameleon circuit’ but something happened to it so it no longer works and is stuck as a police box, its explained in the first Dr who series in an episode called An Unearthly child. Oh and…..’ by this time Derek has lost interest and was only half listening but Spencer’s full attention was on you as you talked about something that clearly brought you joy, at this point he decided to chime in and so you two spent the rest of the jet ride to wherever it was you were going discussing your favourite episodes, plots and Drs. And so, a beautiful friendship began to bloom.

As spencer’s memory of that day came to an end he couldn’t help but be visibly sad at how much of a contrast your feeling were to that day, there was no smile so big you had dimples no hands moving around animatically as you talked and no interrupting your own sentences as you thought of something else you thought needed to be said. And certainly, no you trying to convince him that David tenant was the best Dr. now there was only an uneasiness about you, you looked sad and in slight distress.

Spencer couldn’t keep sitting there doing nothing, he wanted to take those feelings away no, he needed to take them away, he wanted to go over to you and hold you, place you on his lap and let you bury your face into his cardigan like you had done so many times before on your movie nights, but that wouldn’t be appropriate while the entire team was around, and he didn’t want to make you feel worse by being so forward so instead he stood up from his seat opposite Derek and J.J and made his way to you on the sofa holding his book, you were sat in the corner looking so small, holding a now cold cup of tea.

Your mind was anywhere but there so it took Spencer calling your name quietly before you realised anyone was sitting there, and as you saw him all those bad feelings were drowned out by those of joy and love, they weren’t gone but their overwhelming words were dulled, Spencer just had that effect on you, you weren’t completely sure when your feeling changed from hey that’s my friend, to hey that’s my friend who I would like to kiss, marry, and have babies with. Maybe it was the day he showed you how to do physics magic, or the day he brought you coffee every morning for 2 weeks because he spilled one the previous day on your white shirt, or maybe the first time he hugged you, you knew he wasn’t big on hugs but after a tough case for everyone he could see you needed it and honestly once he was there holding you he never wanted to stop, after that he wouldn’t hesitate to hug you, you both waved it off as friendly but you both just wanted to be as close as possible, maybe when you came to terms with the fact you would both try your best to have physical contact with each other, be it holding hands or falling asleep on each other’s shoulder is when you knew you wanted a lot more.

You were brought back by Spencer’s voice, ‘are you ok’,’ ‘oh, ah yeah sorry , my minds just wandering I guess’ you said looking down at your hands feeling bad for lying, he clearly knew you weren’t he was a profiler after all, and as you stared at your hand you once again remembered his lingering touch on your left hand, before your mind could wander further Spencer held your hand ,he spoke up ‘ don’t think about him, I know that’s what your doing , but he’s gone now were he cant hurt anyone else, were he can’t hurt you’. You looked away from him feeling silly ‘I know that, I don’t even know why I’m acting like this it’s ridiculous honestly he didn’t do anything he just touched my hand and waist but the thought of his hands on me just makes me feel sick, it’s like I can still feel him and I just want to wash it off and that’s all I can think about every time I try to sleep, I just want to sleep and forget about it spence’ as you said this you subconsciously scratched the back of your hand where his had been, spencer took both your hands once again before you could hurt yourself, ‘hey y/n, it isn’t silly, after seeing the crime scenes and knowing what he did to those women it is perfectly reasonable to be feeling like this’ you nod at his words and lean your head on his shoulder as you take in his familiar comforting smell, ‘thanks Spence’ you hear him hum in response as his head leans on top of yours.

You sit in comfortable silence just being with each other not even realising he hadn’t let go of your hand, it isn’t like you had made a move to either, and neither of you were planning on it. The jet was silent as everyone was either asleep, or going through some files, it was peaceful, it was wonderful.

You were the first to break the silence ‘what are you reading’ , ‘Alice’s adventures in wonderland’, you looked up at him from your place on his shoulder with a soft smile and simply stated ‘that’s my favourite book, I have a copy in my desk right now’ , ‘I know, that’s why I’m reading it, ‘ his reason made your heart swell as he continued, ‘even though it Is considered a classic I’ve never actually read it, I must say I am enjoying it’, ‘how far along are you’, ‘about half way’. Truthfully Spencer could have been done with the book already even though he had started it at the beginning of the flight, however this book was different, this was your favourite, this one meant so much to you and so he wanted to take it all in, he wanted that feeling you get when you first read a line that impacts you, a feeling you only get once with that line, a feeling he was getting often in this book because he knew you loved it and so he loved it.

The silence was disrupted by a very large yawn coming from you, he must admit you looked very cute when you were tired (he may also love the fact you were wearing one of his cardigans that you had claimed as your, and you also had very cute sweater paws). ‘Here lie down’ Spencer said, you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep so you asked, ‘will you read to me’ there was barely a beat before you felt the need to justify your request, even though you didn’t need to he would do anything you asked. ‘it’s just I don’t think ill be able to sleep, and your voice is very calming’, the last part you said quietly and felt a light blush on your cheeks, spencer simply smiled and simply answered ‘of course ill read to you’, and so you laid you head down on his lap and he began reading once you were fully comfortable, ‘would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?’’ ‘’that depends a good deal on where you want to get to,’’ said the cat………’’ and so Spencer kept reading to you, an you kept listening, his hand made its way to your hair and began to play with it while your hand drew lazy nonsensical things on his leg , and as you heard the words you had read a million times before, and as the man you held so much love for played with your hair all your worries and thoughts melted away and you slowly let sleep take over , you felt conflicted as you didn’t want to miss this, miss Spencer’s voice recite something that meant so much to you, it was like hearing a completely new story, but at some point you let it take over and so you were finally able to sleep, Spencer never stopped reading to you or playing with your hair in fear of disturbing your peace, he was so happy there was a smile back on your face, he would read to you every hour of every day if it meant seeing you smile.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #spencer rwid x reader

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trashytummiez · 4 years ago

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Sticky Buns for a Surfer Bro

@squidbiscuit did it again. She made an amazing pic of Brawly stuffed and burpy that was so unbelievably cute, I needed to write a fic based off of it! <3

“Dude! Me’n Marlon, brah, we caught some righteous waves today! You should’a seen it!” Brawly said with excitement to the only other individual in his apartment.

Only it wasn’t an individual at all. It was his Makuhita, doing what few Pokemon were even capable of doing...baking!

Brawly sniffed the air and lit up excitedly. “Yooooo! Sticky buns? Makuey, dude, that’s rad bodacious of you, brah!” The blue haired young surfer exclaimed merrily. The short and stocky yellow Pokemon mewed out its name and hobbled over to its trainer carrying a large tray of steamy buns. Brawly leaned over and took a whiff then smacked his chops. “You’re too good to me, my dude!” He said happily, ruffling its head in appreciation. Makuhita smiled back at him when he took the tray and set it down on the dining table. Then it hobbled back to the kitchen. “Makin’ more?” Brawly asked in a genuinely surprised fashion.

Just then, Brawly’s stomach growled loudly. He blinked with surprise and rubbed his leaned midsection softly then shrugged.

“Eh, shreddin’ sick waves does kinda work up an appetite, I guess.”

And boy did Brawly’s appetite show. He very eagerly shoved one of the buns in his mouth and took an immense bite out of it, like a solid quarter went down in one chomp. Like his Pokemon, Brawly squinted with a bright smile on his face as his cheeks bulged out humorously from how much bun he was chewing at once.

After he gulped that first bite, he licked his lips and grinned with excitement. “Yoooooooo! Talk about a mondo wave of flavor, dude! My tastebuds are swirlin’!”

Brawly very eagerly shoved more buns right into his mouth. He was happy as a clam munching away on those sticky, warm buns that all seemed to just melt in his mouth. The surfer managed to down a considerable amount of buns in a very short period of time. That tray full of buns he was working his way through was completely gone before he even knew it.

He wiped his mouth with a contented grin then frowned when he realized the buns were finished. “Aww, dude, I forgot to leave some for you,” he said and scratched his head with genuine guilt on his face. “That’s my bad, brah...”

But the Pokemon called out its name in a dismissive fashion.

“You sure, brah? This stuff was tubular! Ya oughta be able to have some for yourself!”

But again, Makuhita didn’t mind. Instead, it returned with another tray of sticky buns and a big ol’ smile on its face.

Brawly smiled and gently tapped it on the shoulder. “You’re too good to me, my dude.”

Makuhita smiled and merrily hobbled back to the kitchen. Brawly got to work downing more and more sticky buns. He really couldn’t get enough of these things. Their texture, the flavor, the warm feeling of each mouthful he bit into sliding down his gullet and filling his stomach with more warmth. It was a tidal wave of deliciousness and like any surfer, Brawly had to ride that wave to the fullest.

And fullest really was the appropriate term here.

Brawly’s usually lean washboard of a stomach was getting pretty bloated from all those buns he was downing in so short an amount of time. His skin-tight surf shirt stretched out around the middle and started to rise up and expose more of his surfer tanned flesh. But he couldn’t help himself, the buns were just irresistibly good. And like the first tray of buns, Brawly had consumed every last one.

After finishing his last bun, Brawly burped loudly then leaned back in his chair satisfied. “Ahhh, righteous...” he said, patting his belly with a satisfied sigh.

But then Makuhita approved the table with another tray of buns.

Brawly looked at his Pokemon with surprise. “Uh...y-you want me to eat more?”

Makuhita called out its name and nodded eagerly.

Brawly frowned then looked down at his stomach. His shirt was already riding a few inches up from how bloated it had become. He’d already eaten well past what he normally would have and it was definitely feeling nice and full by that point.

But then he looked at his Pokemon smiling back at him. Surfer bro or not, Brawly was a nice guy with a big heart that made him a bit of a pushover. So, he managed to smile back and took the tray. “Well, um, can’t let this stuff go to waste, right?”

Makuhita smiled and cried out happily, but to Brawly’s eternal dread, it headed back to the kitchen.

“Uh, y-you don’t have to make anymore, brah! S-Seriously, this is plenty!”

It wasn’t plenty. It was too much. But because Brawly didn’t want to leave his pal hanging, he took another bun and started biting into it. The buns still tasted great and went down nice and smooth. But the thing was that his stomach was already at capacity and the more he ate, the heavier Brawly’s belly became. And there was a very fine difference between feeling stuffed and feeling heavy; the latter was never fun.

It wasn’t made any better the more buns Brawly continued eating. His stomach grumbled loudly in protest which made Brawly cringe and stroke his rounder belly in an effort to calm it down. His shirt was riding up a little more with each bun he ate which only made the gurgling in his gut grow louder and more unpleasant.

About halfway through the buns, he huffed exhaustedly and slumped back in his chair feeling absolutely stuffed. His belly was feeling way too full and way too heavy, getting so bloated that his shirt even rode up above his belly button.

“Ungh, feelin’ wiped out, brah...” Brawly whined to himself, rubbing his belly with both hands while it churned and grumbled away.

His stomach hitched, like a sudden, mild cramp emerged. Brawly looked like he was going to be sick for a moment there. But instead, Brawly burped so loudly that it could be heard from outside of his place.

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!!!!!!!

With that massive burp came a sudden relief that wafted over Brawly and left him sighing heavily.

“Ohhhhhh yeah, I needed that, brah, holy cow...” Brawly moaned and clutched at his tight bloated stomach with delighted relief. Doing so made him belch loudly again, which only brought him more relief.

“Whew! Dude, that was...” Brawley started to say but stopped.

He felt another one coming then thumped his chest a few times with his fist until one more huge burp erupted from his mouth.

BOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRP!!!!!!!

That one left Brawly moaning with absolute relief.

“Haaah, dude, that almost sounded like one’uh Marlon’s, brah...” Brawly bragged and smacked his belly heartily with satisfaction. It was like he got his second wind right there, getting that pressure out.

So he went right back to downing more buns. With the extra room he’d just made, it was a lot easier to down the remaining buns. He still felt full when he ate, but he now knew he could fit the rest of Makuhita’s baking into his packed belly.

But second winds don’t last forever and it wasn’t long before fullness kicked in again. Brawly’s stomach was feeling heavier and heavier, while his shirt rode up a little more due to how stuffed his stomach was by the end. It was a struggle but Brawly managed to eat what was left on his tray.

By the time he finally finished, Brawly let out a lengthy burp and pushed himself up to his feet.

“Ungh, brah, I’m stuffed...” Brawly groaned wrapping his hands around his tight, bloated belly. One hand went to his mouth in time for him to muffle a big burp, judging by the rumble it made in his closed mouth and the way his cheeks puffed. He groaned miserably after that and blew the gas off from the corner of his mouth and fanned the air around his nose. “Ugh, that don’t smell nearly as good coming up as it does going down...Ourrrrhp...ungh...”

He walked away from the table while his belly churned loudly. It felt so unbelievably heavy that Brawly could pass out right then and there.

But right when he was in the middle of walking away, something tapped into his backside. Brawly turned around and immediately looked down with mortal dread in his eyes.

Makuhita was directly behind him, smiling up at him with yet another tray in its hands.

Brawly smiled nervously and backed away waving his hand at his stocky Pokemon. All that nervous jittering upset his rounded stomach however and made him belch mid-protest.

“URRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAP!!!!!!!!! Whoa!” Brawly said, holding a fist up to his mouth as he smiled nervously and burped again behind his hand. “BURRRP!!! Ngh, th-that’s enough for today, my dude! Really, I’m beyond the waves here!”

But then he saw his little Pokemon’s smile turn sad, and as one could predict, poor bloated Brawly’s heart twisted.

Not as badly as his belly was about to...

By the time poor Brawly had been coerced into finishing that last tray of buns, he was a complete mess. The poor young surfer was sprawled on his couch sporting a belly so big that he almost looked pregnant. His shirt had completely ridden up beneath his chest, leaving its tanned spheric form exposed and his pants undone and tucked down to his huge gut breathing room.

He laid there on the couch, nursing his beachball of a belly and burping again and again, until a huge burp rolled out of him for ten straight seconds. If Brawly weren’t in utter agony, he’d almost be impressed since that had to be a new record for him. Unfortunately, he was too busy trying his best not to puke from being so stuffed.

Brawly moaned in absolute misery which turned into a rumbling burp halfway through, but one that gave him no relief.

“Urrrrrrrrgh...so...urrrrp...full...UuuuuurrrrooooorrrrAAP!” Brawly groaned between overstuffed burps.

His belly was so noisy that it was almost as loud as some of the burps he was letting out relentlessly.

Makuhita hobbled over to its trainer and frowned sadly at him, looking at how massive his belly was from all the buns and how utterly sick with fullness Brawly himself looked. It called out its name sadly, as if it was apologizing to Brawly, but the overstuffed trainer managed a very weak smile and ruffled its head.

“...Ungh, h-heh, you just...” he paused to burp into his fist, then again. “Ungh, just wanted to do somethin’ nice for me, my dude...all good...”

But Makuhita still looked sad seeing how miserable Brawly looked, especially compared to his usually exuberant self. It saw him cringe when his belly burbled heartily and then it got an idea.

With a bit of effort, it hopped onto the couch and placed its mitten-like paws against Brawly’s big, drum-tight stomach. And then it started to rub away. Brawly suddenly groaned again, but for a different reason. He seemed to relax and have a slight smile on his face as he groaned which encouraged Makuhita to keep gently rubbing Brawly’s belly for him.

It was kind of amazing how someone who was so normally lean could even get this bloated, especially from sticky buns. Brawly really did pack away a whole lot, Makuhita realized which made it feel even more guilty. Part of it worried it was because Brawly didn’t want the Pokemon to feel bad, but when it saw how happily Brawly ate that first tray, it couldn’t help but bake more and more. After all Brawly was its best friend and it wanted to show the young surfer how much it cared for him.

But that didn’t matter. The belly rubs seemed to be working so the stocky Pokemon continued running its paws up and down and all around that round achingly full stomach. There was very little give apart from Brawly’s lower stomach, but the mere sensation of Makuhita’s paws roaming his belly seemed to help him feel better, if at least a little bit.

Brawly’s belly quivered under Makuhita’s paws but it seemed as the quivering was almost a pleased sort, judging by the way Brawly moaned to himself.

“Ohhhhh, Makuey...you’re the best, bra-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!!!!!!!” Brawley’s sentence was cut short when the end of his sentence turned into a big and guttural burp. He covered his mouth and smiled sheepishly at his Pokemon. “H-Heh, my bad...”

Makuhita just giggled and kept on rubbing that turbulent tummy.

#brawly #gym leader brawly #pokemon #makuhita #stuffed belly #belly kink #belly rub #indigestion #burping #stomachache #squidbiscuit #wholesome #fluff #friendship

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themadlostgirl · 4 years ago

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When It’s Cold

*Felix simps come get y’all juice!

The hyperfixation hit me hard and because I just have to add backstory and character development to every single request I get, this one shot request is another mini-fic. I do not know how long it is going to be but I am hoping to keep it under ten. I already have like 5 chapters written now. Also, Felix deserves some multi-chapter love dang it!*

Prompt: Reader and Felix are stuck in Storybrooke together. What will happen next? Spoilers: it’s feelings and fluff and a horny teenagers being stupid.

Requested by: anon

~~~

“I blame you.” Felix said.

“How is this my fault?” I retorted. Felix and I sat on the docks of Storybrooke overlooking the water.

“You’re the one that convinced me to come to Storybrooke with you. Now look what’s happened! Pan is dead and we have no way to get back to Neverland.”

“We’ll find a way back to Neverland.”

“And how do you figure that? There is no more shadow to ferry us, we have no magic bean, or any pixie dust to fly us back. We are stuck here!”

“Will you calm down?”

“You want me to be calm? How can you expect me to be calm after everything that has happened?”

“I don’t know but you panicking is not going to help us any. Storybrooke is the only town in this realm with magic. If there is a way to cross realms we will find it here so stop worrying so much and start brainstorming. Like you said, there is no more shadow so our reliable way of getting back is gone. Magic beans are scarce if any even still exist. So our only option is to find some method of transportation that can either fly us back or we become mermaids and swim through the realms. So we gotta sprout wings or gills. Ideas?”

“Well I can’t swim worth a damn so I guess we’ll need to find a way to fly.”

“No point staying here.” I got up, “We were fine camping in the woods but that’s not going to serve us well much longer. Winter is rolling in and neither of us have ever lived somewhere that wasn’t tropical and humid all the time so I don’t think we’ll survive long on our own out in the wilderness. We need to start looking into different housing options.”

“You sound like an adult.” Felix groaned.

“I hate it too but there’s not much else we can do unless we want to freeze to death. Come on,” I held a hand out to him, “The sooner we find someplace the sooner we can start dedicating our time to finding a way out of here.”

“I’m coming,” Felix stood up, ignoring my hand. We walked all around Storybrooke looking for someplace to hole up in. My main concern was having a place with heat which left a lot of the vacant houses out since their utilities were shut off. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t for the fact that there were no fireplaces so starting a fire to keep warm was also out of the question.

It was getting late and our search had yielded nothing. I had a bad feeling that if we couldn’t find somewhere suitable through our own means we would have to resort to actually paying for housing somewhere. Which meant we would need money which also meant we would need to have jobs. Paying bills, having jobs, this was a nightmare!

We shuffled back to our camp and checked the traps we had laid for any game but only caught a small rabbit. Barely big enough for one person. Better than nothing at least.

As Felix roasted the rabbit over our fire I sighed, rubbing my arms to keep off the chill of the late autumn.

“You know what I’ve noticed these past couple days?” I said.

“Hm?” Felix hummed not bothering to look up.

“This is the first time in all the years we’ve known each other that we’ve ever really hung out.”

“Guess so.” Felix shrugged.

“Is that not strange to you? We’ve known each other for decades on Neverland. We hunted together, played together, fought together with the boys but this is the first time us two have ever been alone together. How do you not find that strange?”

“It’s not like I was close to everybody on the island.” He took the rabbit off the spit and cut it in two, “Besides, you were always off galavanting with Artie and Frank. What’s it matter if we ever hung out?”

“I guess it’s just making me wonder.”

“Wonder what?”

“Why you followed me here?” I answered as he handed me my half of our dinner. “You didn’t know that Pan had switched consciousness with that Henry kid until after we left Neverland. You could have stayed on Neverland with the other boys. You didn’t need to come with me when I asked you to. So why did you?”

“Let me ask you something,” Felix dodged around the question, “Why is it that you asked me to come with you in the first place? You had your friends on that ship already. Why take me along? Why is it that you’re roughing it in the woods with me when you have friends that are snug and cozy in that fairy monastery? Answer me that.”

“I--I--” The words were caught in my throat. Why had I asked Felix to come with me? I knew the answer lay deep in my gut but I couldn’t for the life of me bear to bring it to the surface. I bit into my rabbit with a small scowl.

Felix gave a small exhale before diving into his dinner as well. The conversation thoroughly ended. I curled up to go to sleep near the fire. Our only source of heat. I really did miss Neverland. I would deal with a million humid heat waves if it meant that I could be warm again.

Sometime during the night a gust of cold wind snapped me awake. I huddled in closer to myself trying to retain some warmth when I felt something being draped over me. I peeked an eye open and saw Felix lay down again and curled more into himself. I looked to see what he had done and realized he had draped his cloak over me. His only form of heat, thin as it was. I decided at that moment as I watched him violently shivering on the cold ground that I would gladly grow up a little and get a job if it meant we would have somewhere warm to sleep tomorrow night.

The morning came and as casually as I could gave Feilx back his cloak. I made no mention of his generosity. I knew he wouldn’t appreciate you pointing out his selflessness for whatever reason. Too proud to accept my thanks.

We went back into town and I sent Felix off to find some cheap accommodations for us while I walked along main street and hopped into every store that I could looking for work. Unfortunately it looked like no one was hiring. Dejected and pissed after the tenth shop owner denied to even let me fill out one of their ridiculous applications I stole a handful of dollars from their tip jar. At the very least I could buy us a decent meal tonight.

We met up again outside of the diner. Felix had no luck finding a place to stay either. Everyone just shrugged him off. To my delight though he had the same idea as me and produced a wallet he had pickpocketed off the landlord he had spoken to. A couple of twenties tucked safely into the worn leather. We may not have anywhere warm to sleep tonight but at least we could get a hot meal.

We entered into the diner and immediately were met with stares. It was the same stare I got from everyone I asked a job from. I tried to shrug it off and sat down with Felix at the counter. We ordered two plates of the lasagna. The waitress was kind enough but everyone else at the counter moved away from us when it was evident that we were staying.

“Felix,” I whispered, “Is it just me or is everyone--”

“They don’t want us here,” he whispered back, “They’re not saying anything but they’re making it obvious enough. The reason no one will give us a job or let us live anywhere is all for the same reason. We were here for Pan and even though he’s gone they still don’t trust us. Just eat your food and we’ll go back to camp.”

“Do you think we have enough money to maybe spend just one night at the bed and breakfast?” I asked, hopeful.

Felix shook his head. “Even if we did I think we should be saving this for food since game is proving difficult to come by.”

“You’re right,” I stabbed into my lasagna. “It just gets so cold…”

We finished our meals quickly and left just as fast. At least I was more full than yesterday. We started on our way back to camp when I noticed a trail I hadn’t seen before.

“Where are you going? Camp is that way?”

“I know but I need to see something.” I told him as I started running down the other trail.

“Wait!” Felix ran after me. I kept huffing and puffing down the trail until it opened into a large field. In the distance was a huge house. A mansion by the looks of it.

“Whoa,” Felix said as he took in the sight of the mansion. “How did we miss this?”

“I don’t know. Let’s get a closer look.” We ran across the neatly trimmed lawn and hopped over the fence onto the mansion grounds. The lights were off inside. Whoever lived here was either gone or asleep. We checked the garage and found no car. Peeking in as many windows as we could it didn’t look like anyone was home.

“Should we?” I asked Felix. The temptation was too great. “Even if someone does live here it’s so big I doubt that they would even notice us staying here as well.”

“Let’s take a look.” Felix grinned. Strangely enough the front door was left unlocked. I tried the lights and was delighted when I realized that the electricity was working, there was running water too. Even better was that there was heat! Heat and dozens of bedrooms.

The place was so clean and orderly but yet there were no signs of it being lived in. No pictures on the walls. No food in the fridge. All the doors and windows were unlocked. There was a large kitchen, dining room, multiple rooms just for sitting in, a dozen bedrooms, and even a ballroom with a beautiful crystal chandelier. All the windows had the most spectacular views of the ocean or the mansion’s garden.

“This place is amazing!” I picked up a strange cylindrical paperweight with stars painted on top of it and tossed it in the air. “Felix, I don’t want to get our hopes up but I think we found a place for us to stay.”

“And you’re sure no one lives here?” Felix gazed around the room we were standing in.

“We searched all the rooms we came across and found no one. The place has been cleaned out of food or toiletries. Either whoever lives here desperately needs to go shopping or they just don’t exist.”

“You think we’re really that lucky?”

“I think we’re owed a bit of luck. Even if someone still does live here do you really want to spend the night shivering outside or spend a night wrapped up warm in a bed and run the risk of someone chasing us out in the morning?”

“You make a compelling argument.” Felix grinned, “Race you for the master bedroom!”

“Felix!” I chased after him as he went flying up the stairs. He got to the room first and flopped down on the large king-sized bed.

“I win! Go take one of the lesser bedrooms.”

“You only won cause you have those long lanky legs.” I flopped down beside him and sighed as I sunk into the soft mattress. “I don’t think I can move from here. It’s way too comfortable.”

“Too bad. My room.” He pushed me off.

“Hey!” I laughed as I stood back up. “Fine, you can have the master bedroom but only on the condition that you find us more money to buy food and toiletries. Got it?”

“Sounds good to me,” Felix stood too, eyeing the bathroom attached to the bedroom. “Soap or not I think I am going to indulge in a hot bath.”

“That does sound heavenly.” I haven’t had a hot bath in decades. “Have a goodnight, Felix. We go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

“Night,” Felix gave a wave as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

I left the room and wandered around the hall looking for a space of my own. I found a nice bedroom that felt just as grand as the master bedroom. I went into the bathroom and drew myself a piping hot bath. I nearly moaned when I sunk down into the water. Even if this lasts for only a night I’ll be happy. One night of warmth.

After my bath I wrapped myself in a large fluffy towel and went back into the bedroom. I really didn’t want to put my old dirty clothes on my clean body. I opened the dresser drawers hoping maybe the resident left behind some old clothes but they were all empty. I crept out of my room and checked the other guest rooms surrounding me but all their drawers were empty too. There was one place I hadn’t checked. If the owner did leave something behind it would probably be in the master bedroom. I glanced down at my towel with a grimace. It covers everything at least. I tentatively knocked on the door but was met with no answer. I cracked it open and sighed with relief when I saw no Felix in sight. He must still be in the bath.

I went to the dressers and, “Nothing? Really?!” I slammed the dresser shut again. How is it that there isn’t so much as a single shirt in this house?

“Why are you making so much noise?” Felix stepped out of the bathroom in a billow of steam. My throat went dry when I caught sight of him. Completely naked except for the towel hanging from his hips and still dripping went. His blonde hair that usually hung in his face was brushed back opening his face up more. His torso had an array of scars I never knew he had before. That wet chest that was impressively chiseled…

I shot to my feet clutching to the towel covering me. “Sorry! I was just looking for some clean clothes.”

Felix gaze swept me up and down. He took a deep breath and grabbed something from inside the bathroom and tossed it to me. It was a fluffy white robe with a monogrammed M on the breast. “There.”

“Thanks.” I slid the robe on over my towel. “Anything else in there?”

“Nope. Just that one.” Felix turned away from me. His face looked red and I could only guess he was angry at me for barging in. “Now scurry back to your own room.”

“Right. Thanks.” I rushed back to my room, my heart hammering in my chest. That was certainly new. I never thought I would see that much of Felix. I mean why would I ever want to see his wet, practically naked, and not so shockingly buff body? No! Bad! Impure thoughts I should not be having about my...my…

Huh. What was Felix to me? On Neverland we were Lost Ones but that didn’t really fit here. I don’t know if I could exactly call us friends either. Roommates? Was that what we were now? We have been living together at our crappy camp all this time and now we’re staying in this mansion together. I guess that’s what we would call one another. Roommates.

I dropped my towel and pulled the clean robe tighter around me. My thumb traced over the M stitched on the breast. This house has no food, no toiletries, no clothes, not a single photo on any wall but yet there was a single monogrammed robe. Who was M? Who had lived here?

Those were questions for the morning. I sunk into bed and this time I did moan as I cuddled under the many thick blankets. Finally warm at last.

---

(Next)

#felix imagine #felix x reader #ouat felix #ouat #neverland #request #peter pan ouat #roommate au #i'm just gonna put this in the tags since it doesn't actually matter to the story but #they are in the sorcerer's mansion introduced at the start of season 4 #the place where they find all the blank story books and rumple and belle have their honeymoon #that's it. just let my kiddos have a warm place to sleep. they deserve it.

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oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

Text

Steamy waters — Hoseok

Pairing: Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 7.8k

Genre: smut, pwp, fluff, mini tiny angst; established relationship, idol!AU

Rating: 18+

Hello teddy bears! I was supposed to take a small break today, but I decided that I wanted to keep working on Steamy Waters since it was Hobi’s turn and it could be an awesome chance to gift this job to an incredible writer who I’m getting to know these days. It was her birthday recently and I thought that I could offer her this small thing as a two-day-late birthday gift. Happy birthday, @xjoonchildx !

As most fics I write, this can be read as a standalone, however, just to find the right vibe (*haha foreshadowing is a lovely thing*) I decided to ideally set it after The Studio.

For those who haven’t read it, I’ll run a quick recap.

Giggles has moved into Hoseok’s apartment, but unfortunately he couldn’t help her since he’s been incredibly busy working on a new project. Giggles was very angry and visited his studio. Since he feels horrible, he asks her what he needs to do for her to forgive him. Giggles states her conditions and decides to proceed with the plan that brought her to his studio, tying him up to his chair and toying around with sensation play before giving him head, their reunion culminating in very emotional and heartfelt fucking (it exists, look it up in the dictionary).

Now, as Hoseok drives her back to their home, he can’t stop thinking of how she took the reins, but also he can’t wait to make her pay for the incredible amount of torturing she put him through. Plus, he’s still thinking about the content of her totebag… As soon as they get home he decides to hit the shower, the water clearing up his mind and helping him organise all his ideas into a plan. That is, if Giggles doesn’t play her wildcard first.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Swearing. Master!Hoseok, sub!reader; Bondage (rope and manacles), mentions of tickler, riding crop, flogger, mentions of squirting; mentions of angst related to Hoseok being busy with his job and not supporting his girlfriend as she moves in his apartment; ben-wa balls; massage oil; grinding and masturbation (male and female receiving); very brief oral (female receiving); multiple cumshots and cumplay in general, mentions of cum eating; a very fancy riding crop; sensation play; tickle play; overstimulation; laugh fetish, crying (from overstimulation); and finally vibrating cockring and multiple orgasms. Have I ever mentioned Hoseok likes changing positions a lot? Well, anyways, suit yourself.

[Ana, if any of this stuff triggers you I am extremely sorry and you are allowed to request a refund for this messy, unedited gift, and I’ll make sure I can offer you a wholesome, cuddly Hoseok taking reader on a cute date and spoiling her rotten with love and affection 😅😊]

Here is my masterlist :)

Enjoy this (for now unedited) mess ✨💜

——————————————————————

Hoseok’s eyes kept wandering between the red traffic light in front of him and the cotton tote at your feet as you sat on the passenger seat of his car, headed to your apartment.

Your shared apartment.

Your home.

He was still trying to understand how you had found the courage to turn his toys against him, to play a role he’d never imagined you in.

You and your pretty eyes and your cute smile and your lovely hair, and your delicate, tiny hands, teasing him with the tails of his flogger, pushing it against his face, making him guess with a blindfold covering his eyes.

He shut his eyes shaking his head energetically as he focused on driving, starting the car once he saw the car before him starting to move forward.

You were laying with your head against the headrest, eyes closed, peaceful while he drove.

He was the best driver in the universe and being in a car with him felt relaxing. You felt safe. Which is pretty rare to you while being in a car with anyone else.

Once you reached the parking lot under his building, you opened you eyes, blinking a couple times. He bent to your forehead, placing a gentle kiss between your eyebrows. “We’re home, sweetie.” He whispered, unlatching your seatbelt.

“Already here?”

“You fell asleep for a bit.” He said, caressing your hair off your face and cupping your cheek. “Let’s head upstairs, Giggles.” He said, undoing his seatbelt and exiting the car.

You laid one more second before opening your door, getting ready to exit just as he appeared before you, offering you his hand.

You took it and climbed off his suv, shortly before he bent forward and took your bag, closing down the car. He placed his arm behind your back, around your waist, pulling you into his side as you stood in the lift. “Are you sleepy?” He asked, poking your cheek and smiling tenderly at you.

You thought about it. Yes, you were a bit sleepy, especially after how he had used you in his studio, and the strong emotions that had possessed you there, however you could perceive his energy, like the humming, crackling sound of static, which made you impatient and oversensitive. You could almost hear his brain plotting and you felt at a few seconds away from snapping at him and tell him to do it already.

“Not that much.” You replied.

You reached the front door and he unlocked it, walking in and taking off his sandals, placing your bag by the door, and extracting its content.

Rope. Flogger. Riding crop. Tickler. More rope. Another bundle. How did you intend to use all that rope, he asked himself as he frowned, headed to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed and put the rope on the box he kept under his side of the bed, resembling a small container to store away clothes but actually containing bundles and bundles of rope in different colours, and other smaller boxes. He looked specifically for one, extracting it and placing it over his bedside table.

You didn’t speak as you saw him extract a small bag with toy cleanser and a rag, the other three toys laying at his side as he sat on the bed with his legs spread wide, holding the rag with his right hand and spraying the cleanser with the left one, putting the bottle down before he grabbed the flogger and started to wipe the damp fabric over the leather.

You stood at the door, leaning against the doorjamb, staring at his hands as he used his left one to hold all the tails but one, which he caught with the rag and wiped clean. Moving it aside, he proceeded with another one, his strong and slender fingers stretching to keep the two groups separated.

Those beautiful hands.

You walked closer, around the bed, climbing up behind him and placing your mouth against his neck. “Your hands are so pretty.” You whispered, staring at his digits skillfully handling the toy.

He smiled. “You have mentioned liking them, a couple times.” He replied before chuckling.

“Will I have them inside me again before tomorrow comes?” You asked, mouthing at his ear.

He shrinked, trying to run away from the tickling touch of your tongue. “I thought I had already fed you, hungry little monster.” He said, finally done with the twelve tails and wiping the handle before he bent down to put the flogger into its longer box, wrapping the tails loosely around the handle.

“You were fucked out, almost into dreamland five minutes ago.” He commented, spraying some more cleanser and wiping the wet cloth over the riding crop. You parted your legs wide as you sat on your heels, trying to push your hips against his back for some friction.

“That was five minutes ago.” You replied, your hands skimming down his arms and stopping at his wrists, wrapping around them. “Before I saw these.”

Hoseok had his hottest looks. When he was on stage rapping. When he was sweaty on top of you. When he grinned and licked his lip before biting it, with that specific cocky smirk after making you cum. When getting ready to wreck you. When getting his toys ready to wreck you.

And the fact that he always double cleaned his toys — before and after use — created this sort of vicious circle where you couldn’t understand whether he was done with you or simply getting ready to start again.

Your life was like a pendulum swinging to and fro between arousal and pleasure — to incorrectly quote Schopenhauer. And as much as he was your sweet boyfriend, taking you on picnics and covering you in gifts and letting you pet all the dogs you met on your walks, he was you greatest source of pain and pleasure, in the most addictive, perfect mix of the two.

In this moment he embodied that, precisely. Because, no matter how spent you had been twenty minutes ago, you were once more ready and craving.

“Stop rubbing your sweet, soft pussy against me, little bird.” He murmured, placing down the crop in another box and placing the lid on it.

“Please, master.” You called in your most tantalising voice.

He cleaned the handle of the tickler, spraying some cleanser in the air before letting it fall over the feather, flicking it a couple time with strong snaps of his wrist.

And that’s why you loved him with a flogger.

He placed down the tickler in a third box, where laid another fancy stick culminating in a small rectangle of fur.

You stretched your neck to stare at it longingly before he closed the lid and zipped the large box closed, placing the cleanser inside and throwing the cloth on the floor.

“Go shower, little bird. You’re still messy from earlier and you need a nap.” He said, shortly before noticing your pout. “What is it?”

“I want your fingers. And the tickler. The furry one.” You said, lacing your fingers with his and feeling his strong knuckles.

He stood up and turned to face you, your arms getting tangled up together. He tugged at you, bringing you closer to the edge of the bed before freeing his arms, pushing your wrists together and grabbing your chin.

“I said: go shower.” He chastised, his voice so, so serious.

You frowned at him. “What if I don’t?”

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked, swatting at your mouth in scolding, but at the same time with infinite care. He wasn’t the type to hit someone’s face, even though in moments like this he really wanted to.

You had never been a brat. Of course you had bratty moments, but he never had to discipline you like that. You are his sweet baby, his little bird, delicate and obeying. Why would you challenge him like that.

You turned your face away from him as he studied your warmongering stare.

“Little bird. Go shower. I’ll join you in a bit.” He said, his eyes perusing your lineaments.

You stood up and walked to the en suite bathroom, making sure that he was staring at you as you stood on the corridor and took off your clothes in quick, angry movements, your trousers coming off together with your panties, then loudly and indignantly you walked your way into the bathroom.

Hoseok stared at your scene, quite ignoring what made you snap, but pretty sure about how to ease your temper. Quickly he re-opened the box and extracted two sets of manacles, studying his bed before realising how he could possibly fix that.

Nodding at himself, he took out a smaller bundle of rope, starting a hook around two bars in the middle of the headboard.

Staring at the layout, he changed his mind again, undoing the knot at the headboard and moving it down, at the feet of the bed, lifting the mattress and looping the rope around the bed stave closest to the corner of the mattress and placing the rope neatly on top of the bed, the two tails perfectly parallel to each other, without overlapping.

He repeated the gesture on the other corner, meanwhile thinking about what knot he could possibly use to embellish your ankles.

Next, he secured one band of each manacle set to the sturdy columns at each corner of the headboard, opening both loose bands and preparing them to welcome your wrists.

Moving to your end of the bed, he searched for your box, finding it just behind the edge of the mattress. He lifted the lid and looked inside, observing the content with an eyebrow raised, face completely impassible. Spotting a familiar tool, he picked it up in his palm, trying to think of how he could use it. Giving up on the idea — a shower scene allowed poor lubrication — he considered another option.

He chuckled to himself and looped his finger through a small ringlet, extracting a series of silver balls attached by a silicon string. “Hell, yes.” He murmured, closing the box, already savouring how sensitive you would be after having those inside you, and how incredibly responsive your cunt would be to his fingers once he pulled the spheres out of you. He fixed your box back in place, ready to reach you in the shower when he took a couple steps back, looking at his own box again, sucking at his lower lip.

Fuck it. He bent down and found a smaller box, substituting the one on top of his bedside table and placing his furred riding crop in a handy position, but at the same time out of your sight. Laying it on the small bench at the feet of the bed, he placed the pillows on top, baring the bed and making sure that the mattress was covered in waterproof bedding, just in case.

Satisfied with the layout, he took off his sweater and jeans, collecting your clothes too and leaving all of those in the small chest with the dirty laundry.

Now he was ready to follow your furious warpath.

Standing at the door in the bathroom, he stared at you, your eyes closed as you rinsed your shampoo out of your hair, all the suds rolling gently down your body.

You looked majestic. And so gracious.

He toyed with the metal spheres in his hand, rattling them a little to signal his arrival.

You spotted him and turned away.

Took you long enough, you thought, ignoring his presence. And next thing your knew, his right hand appeared at your waist, sliding down to your belly button.

“Do you want me?” He asked, pressing his mouth below your ear, his hips getting closer to you.

You were still feeling a bit petty. But also very horny.

He simply hugged your back to his front, waiting for your approval before touching you between your legs, his fingers tiptoeing around the imaginary line connecting one hipcrest to the other.

“Do you want me, though?” You asked tensely.

He kissed down the muscle of your neck, moving toward your collarbone. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry I’m so angsty.” You said, turning around and hiding into his slim chest.

“It’s okay, little bird.” He said, relieved that his loving girl was back. “I woke you from your nap in the car. You’ve had a stressful week and I was away.” He ran his free hand down your spine, caressing it with the very tips of his fingers. “You were needy and I bet you didn’t even have the time to take care of yourself.” He bent down to your ear. “And if I’m not mistaken it’s been two weeks since you last had your period.” He tutted and cooed as he drew his nose down your sensitive neck. “You must be so needy.”

You felt like collapsing. It was so good to be his. “I love you.” You replied, appreciating all those small considerations he was making, trying to understand you.

“I love you too, Giggles.” He said, joining your lips chastely, placing butterfly kisses over your lower lip, his brow furrowing as you gave small kisses in return. “Giggles.” He murmured on your mouth, his breath hot on your lips.

“Hobi.” You murmured back.

“Want your lips.” He said, his hand climbing up and sliding into your hair, blocking your head and trapping your lower lip between his teeth.

You moaned as he started sucking, his teeth dragging sublimely against the tender skin of your mouth.

“I’m not putting my hand between your legs unless you tell me to.” He said, letting go of your sensitive flesh.

“Please, do.” You murmured, trying to rub yourself against him, offering some pleasure too once your belly pressed against his length.

“I want your consent, little bird.” He clarified, his hand drawing innocent patterns at the middle of your back.

“You have it.” You answered, your hand stretching across his asscheek, trying to draw him closer.

“I have these, if you’re interested.” He said, removing his arm dangling from your shoulder and laying along your back, opening his fist and showing you the ben-wa balls.

“Yes.” You said, opening your mouth wide and rolling your tongue out, waiting for him to place the toy inside for you to lubricate it.

He grinned, proud. “Perfect.” And like that, the spheres were in your mouth, the small ring still hooked to his finger as he pulled the string out, your lips loose against the toy to avoid removing the drool covering them.

Once every ball was out, you turned and bent over.

“Smart girl.” He praised you rubbing your ass with one hand while the other pushed the first ball in. Then the second.

“Master, please.”

“I’m here, little bird. Only three missing, my love.” He reassured you while you felt the cool metal roll against your hot walls. “There. Another one. I’ll make you feel so good, my little dove.” His left hand slid to your front, between your breasts, until it landed on your face, curling around your jaw. “You can take it, baby. Only two left.”

You felt heavy and full, your inner walls clenching, tightening to sustain the weight of the spheres. Another ball slid in, wider than the one before, and smaller than the next.

“There you go, Giggles. You’re gonna be so tight after this. So sensitive.” He thought out loud.

“Only for you, master.” You moaned as you felt his fingers accommodate the last sphere, your inner muscles locking into a tight grip.

“Such a good girl you are. Can you stand up already, dove?” He asked, wrapping his arm one around your chest, and one around your waist.

“Yes, master.” You replied obediently as he helped you raise your torso, your eyes closing as you felt the toy move around and settle inside you as you reached your new position.

He cupped your cheeks and kissed you softly. “Excellent, little bird.” He rewarded you. “Have you already washed yourself?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Sorry I took so long to arrive.” He said. He was usually the one washing you when you showered together. “Guess you’ll have to turn around, then.” He announced, stretching to reach his body-wash, pouring some in his hands and foaming it up, rubbing it against his front while you turned and looked at him from over your shoulder.

“Curious, little bird?” He asked you, smirking and smiling devilishly.

You bit your lip and nodded shyly.

He moved forward so that his cock rested between your asscheeks and thrusted against you tentatively, frowning once after two strokes he already felt too much friction.

“Stay there.” He said, exiting the shower and looking into the cabinet, immediately spotting his target, deciding on taking it with him in the shower.

“Here or the floor?” He asked once you made eye contact.

You considered your options, throwing a towel on the floor and kneeling down on it, crossing your arms under your head to pillow it. “Here.” You said, looking at him standing tall over you.

“Oh, Giggles.” He said, chuckling. “You’re adorable.”

He moved behind you, your gaze focused on the floor as you heard him close the tap to the shower.

“I’m kneeling behind you, little bird.” He described exactly how he was moving, so that you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by the situation. “I’m going to cover your cute little bum in massage oil, pretty thing.” He said. “Yes or no?”

“Yes, master.” You replied, staying perfectly still even as you felt the first drop of oil fall on your left ass cheek.

“I know it’s cold, ____. It’ll be warm soon, I promise.” He said, pouring some more on the other side.

The sweet scent of almonds filled the room, intensified by the steam still coming out of the shower.

You felt the sound of the bottle connecting with the floor.

“Here. Let’s make it warm.” He said, placing his hands on your ass and beginning to spread the oil. “Does it feel good, little bird?” He murmured, cackling as you squirmed once his thumbs pressed your labia close together, blood filling the soft, plump tissue, already aroused by the movements of the spheres inside you.

“Yes, master. It feels good, master.” You replied obediently, already pushing your crotch towards his hands. Next he pushed his thumbs from your labia to the skin just behind your hole, the ben-wa balls moving slightly as he pressed from the outside, drawing small circles around the sensitive skin of your entrance, looking as your nectar oozed out from your slick hole once he pulled your labia apart, bending down to lick at your arousal.

You moaned his name slowly, the final ‘k’ getting lost as your breath stumbled a few times in your lungs, drawing in a series of quick, shallow gasps before releasing a low exhale through your puckered lips.

“You’ve been eating fruit, mh?” He asked, noticing the exceptional sweetness of your juices.

“I like fruit.” You replied, trying to sound as coherent as possible.

Still, he chuckled, the sound vibrating against your sensitive crotch while the tip of his tongue tapped against your clit a couple times.

“Master.” You called with a shrill whimper.

He removed his face from between your thighs.

“Yes, little bird?” He replied, standing on his knees behind you.

“Please, use me for your pleasure, master.” You begged, trying to push your butt against his hard on.

His hands kept spreading the oil on your behind, exploring every curve, feeling the soft texture of your flesh. “That’s very generous of you, ____. What do you think if we help each other with this? I could lend you a hand and you let me cum all over your sweet peach here.” He suggested.

“Please do. I want you to cum on me.” You said, turning to look at him, the tip of his tongue appearing at the corner of his mouth while his eyelids hung low, looking at your face.

“I won’t make you wait then.” He said, bending over you, his mouth immediately connecting with the small crevasse between your shoulderblades.

His hips slid against your skin easily this time, the feeling his palms squishing your asscheeks together as he thrusted back and forth, moaning and panting so close to your ear. His movements ricocheted inside you just as his palm slid forward, pressing against your belly in a kneading motion that made the spheres shift endlessly inside you.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, just as he changed direction, the tip of his middle finger reaching your hole, massaging the ring of muscles there before sliding down to your clit, drawing a few teasing circles before his palm moved back to the kneading motion aimed straight at the inner muscles of your vagina, the balls shifting against your g-spot with a pressure too gentle to resemble Hoseok’s attentive fingertips when he made you gush your release all over his hand.

“I’m close,” he said, his pace quickening, his target changing as he separated his hips from yours and bent his cock downwards, toward your belly. Using his left hand for leverage, he placed it on the carpet, his right hand covering his tip as he started chasing his pleasure with wicked strokes against your belly, his front parting from your spine as his hand pushed your lower back down, making you arch almost painfully while his pelvis hit your labia at every thurst, his length teased your clit and his tip poked your belly, making the spheres move, his hand pressing his erection to your skin and helping him reach his climax.

And it gloriously arrived, silent at first, and then exploding in a loud groan, as two and then free spurts hit your chest and your stomach messily.

You were close, so close, but your pleasure felt miles away, like your edge was nothing but an immense plain preceded by a steep but brief climb.

“Master, I’m not—”

He blinked a couple times as his high receded, his ears tuning in on the lack of noise, on you not crying his name, moaning and whining and whimpering with pleasure.

“Giggles?” He called, letting go of his softening cock.

“Please, master.” You repeated.

“Aren’t you done yet?” He asked kindly. “Do you still need me, love?”

“Wanna cum, please.” You wailed, trying to grind against any surface connecting with your pelvis. His palm used the oil left on his skin and the cum he had spilled on your navel to massage your belly, his other hand getting to work on your clit, your high becoming more and more real as you murmured on and on ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘there’.

“It’s okay, little bird. Let go.” He said, needing to bend to your ear and kiss you but deciding upon not messing up the angle now that you were close.

Your breath started coming out in messy hiccups. “Hobi, I— Please, it’s— Uh!”

He took in every small sign he could get as you rode his fingers, completely silent in your climax, even your breathing stopping completely while you focused on the mind-blowing feeling of the balls massaging your inner walls as they rolled inside you at every contraction of your muscles.

“There she is.” He called, diminishing his ministration, reducing the pressure of each touch until you opened your eyes and looked for his feverishly. “I’m here, love.” He helped your hips down, turning you around on the big towel and hovering on top of you warmly, fussing over you. “Are you okay, my precious dove?”

He longed to touch your face but his hands were messy and he limited himself to tender kisses to your face.

“Yes, I’m okay. It was just very intense.” You replied, closing your eyes.

“Quick, back in the shower, love. I have plans for us.” He said, raising himself of his knees before standing up. You followed him in slow motion, walking to the shower and closing your eyes as he rinsed his cum and the almond oil from your body.

“Are you sleepy now, my dove?” He asked, rubbing your booty and hugging you in the process.

“No. I want you.” You said, kissing his lips, nibbling at the thick vein of his neck.

“It’s your what… Third orgasm?”

You frowned and nodded. “I think so?”

“Okay. Let’s move to the bedroom.” He said, “You gave a special request, didn’t you?”

You tilted your head and he smiled beautifully, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I love you.” You murmured, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

With a fresh towel he dried you and then quickly dabbed at his own skin, leaving the bathroom messy, but knowing that he would come back once you were asleep.

“Go on.” He said, motioning at the door with his chin, directing you.

He walked behind you as you reached the bedroom and stood before the bed.

“I wanna tie you up. Play with you.” He said, skimming your sides with his fingertips. “If you’re interested.”

“Front or back?” You asked, figuring out how he wanted you to lay down.

“On your back.” He replied.

“Is the fur crop in the game?” You asked, observing the scene.

“Maybe.” He replied.

“That’d better be a yes.” You replied, climbing the bed.

“Rope and manacles?” Your asked, studying the layout.

“Yes. Manacles for wrists. Rope for feet, so you can hide those better. Or I could wrap something around your skin so it doesn’t chafe—”

“No need. A loose triple column should be enough. Hopefully I won’t tug.” You said, laying down and taking rough measurements of your placement. “I don’t think I’ll need a wrap.”

“Are you sure? We can bandage, you know it.” Hoseok sat at the corner of the bed, catching your ankle and making you bend your knee slightly before placing a kiss to your leg.

“I’m good.” You said.

“You will be tied up at the bed, wrist and ankles. I will tease you slightly first. I want you to relax. Once you’re all loose and soft, we’ll see where this will take us, yes?” He kept things vague, so to avoid ruining the anticipation, but also to keep you from feeling pressured into any procedure. “Do you agree with being tied up and undergoing sensation play?” he asked formally.

“I agree, master.” Etiquette is important. Formality gives importance to what you’re about to do. It makes you feel how dangerous it can be the moment you forget safety and responsibility.

“Which are your safewords, ____?”

“Yellow to slow down. Red to stop.” You replied, looking at him.

“Excellent. I’ll start with your left ankle, little bird.” He adjusted your legs, bending your knees about twenty centimetres off the bed, leaving a meter between your feet.

You stayed perfectly still as he caressed your foot and placed two fingers against your skin, beginning to loop the double rope around your leg and his fingers, without dragging it against your skin, but rather letting it caress it softly. Next he neatly hooked both tails under the loops on your ankle, bringing them up and tying them in a knot, tugging at it. The loops tightened slightly, but from the inside he wiggled his fingers, making sure that there was some extra space and that the knot could slide and give more rope, in case it got too tight. He set it a bit loose, not worrying about it slipping it off since the heel of your foot would block it.

He repeated the procedure on the other side, your legs secured to the bed.

You stared at his skilled fingers looping the rope tidily and precisely, knowing how order and cleanliness could help the moment he needed to undo those.

Next, he crawled up, towards your hips, straddling them.

He was already hard again.

You stared at his sleek, long shaft, how well it matched his lithe, sinewy body, how pretty it looked with the slight upward curve. So perfectly pink, matching his glossy lips and the tip the precise colour of his tongue.

He strapped in your left wrist without you even realising. “I see you’re distracted,” he commented, moving to your other wrist. He hooked one finger in the cuff before tightening it, making sure that even your wrist had enough space for wiggling and tugging without you getting hurt.

“Are you safe, little bird?” He checked on you, intertwining your fingers and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You rolled your ankles a few times, next your wrists, then wiggled your fingers. “Yes, master.” You replied obediently.

“Let’s put our scissors here,” He said, standing up and moving his bedside table closer to the feet of the bed, where he could possibly need to quickly cut the rope. After that, he extracted the safety scissors from the drawer in his bedside table and placed them on the table.

“Tonight I received a special request.” He said, completely comfortable in circling the bed naked, your eyes locked with his as he kept walking around, from side to side, like a predator, making anticipation grow, making you squirm and get worked up, waiting for him to pounce.

“My little bird said she was interested with a special toy. For special occasions.” He said, standing at the feet of the bed.

As he stared at your slit, you had the sudden realisation that the ben-wa balls were still located in your womb, the squeezing of your kegels heightening your awareness.

“And isn’t it a special occasion.” He leaned against the mattress, your neck straining as you stared at him, his eyebrows low on his dark, minaciously sensual gaze, his wet hair shading his ebony irises. “I’ll fuck you in our house. For the first time. On our bed.” He clicked his tongue a couple times. “Not like I didn’t fuck you in this bed before.” He chuckled. “I’ve fucked you plenty.” He smirked, and lounged for your calf, playfully biting it before running away, just in time to make you squirm and contract your inner muscles, making a moan bloom on your lips. “It’s just that it was my bed before. My house. And now it’s ours.”

He dug his hand under the pillows, extracting a stick from beneath the white beddings. A riding crop.

The riding crop. Your eyes zeroed in on the furred tip. And on the leather counterpart.

“It’s your friend, little bird.” He said, caressing his palm with the soft side. “Would you like to remind me how it works?” He asked.

“Yes, master.” You looked at him as he sat at the free space at your side, between your extended arm and your side. “The toy has a double tip. One is made of fur. The other is made of leather. The furred part caresses, the leather part slaps. Master.” You added, for good measure.

He touched your face. “Exactly, little bird. So, shall we celebrate?” He asked, suddenly feeling that his nakedness was jeopardising his power, taking a few steps to the chair in the corner of the room and wearing a loose silken robe, tying it around his waist with a lovely bow.

You were fully mesmerised as once more he started circling the bed. His first target was your ribcage, where he dragged the gentle tip against your skin, making you squirm and arch away from the tickling sensation.

“Ticklish, little bird?”

Bastard. He knew you were ticklish as hell. “A little, master.” You replied, your breath hitching as a small, helpless smile appeared on your face, as he toyed with your nipples.

He cocked his head to the side and smirked as he rubbed your nipples, stealing a small squeal from your lips.

“Just a little?” He asked again, moving to the other side.

“A bit more than a little, master.” You conceded, curving your torso out of reach.

He snorted out a laugh, arching an eyebrow and stretching his lips in a thin line as he sucked them between his teeth.

“Shall we test how much?” He asked, drawing a winding pattern on your belly, spiraling around your belly button. Your abs twitched uncomfortably as you squeaked with a hiccup, your quadriceps suddenly flexing with an involuntary reflex. And of course the spheres moved. Again. Hoseok spotted the precise moment your kegels engaged.

“Are those little balls inside you making you feel funny, little bird?” He asked, the tip of the riding crop travelling up, toward your neck, making your body toss as you tried to escape the sweet torture.

“Answer me, little bird.” He scolded you.

“I— God!” You shouted as he quickly took the crop away and slapped the leather bit against your nipple.

“It’s Hoseok or Master. No god can save you, princess.” He looked at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

You closed your eyes as you felt the heaviest sphere lay against your cervix. It was impressive that after half an hour you had such awareness of similar details. All the sex and the arousal and his lovingly wicked tortures will kill you someday.

“How is your tight, sweet pussy feeling, little bird? I won’t ask again.” He asked commandingly.

“It’s sensitive.” You replied. “They move and my walls move and they move some more.”

“That’s how I want you, ____. Sensitive. I want you to drench the sheets in sweat and then in cum, my darling girl.” He said, walking toward the feet of the bed and flicking the furred tip behind your knee, your leg flexing, trying to protect the weak spot by sticking it to the sheets.

He cocked his eyebrow and tilted his head in surprise. “Oh, not there?” He said. You didn’t realise you had just uncovered an even weaker spot. The crop moved like lightning, immediately reaching the sole of your foot and skimming the arch of it.

“Hoseok! No! Please! No!” You started tugging at the ropes, pressing the plant of your foot to the mattress but exposing the back of your knee in the process.

Giggles bubbled out of your mouth as your brow creased in discomfort, struggling at Hoseok’s game as he dashed from one spot to the other while you wiggled and tried to protect both, miserably failing. His eyes were trained on your leg, like a cat toying with a led light; he kept chasing your weak spot as it appeared on your toes then disappeared, suddenly surfacing at your thigh, only to disappear again and travel back and forth. And as you kept wiggling, fighting, tossing and turning, he expanded his battlefield on the other leg too, giving you no rest nor reprieve.

“Master, please!” A laugh broke your plea. “I’m sorry, master. Please I— Ah! I’ll— I’ll— No!” Another fit of giggles echoed through your abs, making you even wetter, your arousal sliding uncomfortably along your slit, back between your thighs and asscheeks. “I’ll behave— No! Please, I’m sorry— Stop!”

You tugged at your wrists, more laughs coming to your mouth and completely stealing any oxygen left in your lungs.

You were breathless.

“You know your words, little bird.” He said, seriously at your feet.

“Master!” You called in a weak prayer, barely a whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks, not knowing whether they were from the laughter or the helplessness.

“Your words, ____.” He said, still slowing down as he realised you were refusing to fight anymore.

“Master.” You cried out, lip wobbling.

He placed the riding crop at the feet of the bed, his body curling up in a tight ball as he sat on his heels and ran two fingers under each of the knots at your ankles, making sure that they loosened. But not undoing them yet.

“I’ll let you catch you breath, love.” He said, taking hold of the crop once more. After all, you hadn’t used your safeword. That means he can go on.

He skimmed it down his own chest, a pleasurable shiver coursing down his spine.

Next he turned his head, left and right, the movement resulting in a thick popping sound.

He walked close to your face, his lips forming a downward curve as he spotted your tears.

Gently he dried them with the furred tip, cooing at you.

“Poor little bird. Master made you cry?” He asked, touching your face with the toy.

You only nodded in return. He placed the softer bit against your mouth. “Come on, kiss and make up.” He said, staring at the small gesture.

First domination lesson: if your sub doesn’t kiss or lick anything you put before their mouth, then you haven’t trained them well.

Your lips puckered and disclosed with a small click of your lips.

“Good girl, Giggles. Very good.” He praised you.

He turned the toy around, offering you the other tip.

You looked him in the eye.

“You need to forgive it in advance, little bird.” He said, cocking an eyebrow and licking his lips. He was breathing heavily through his mouth, which had made his lips dry up too fast.

You gave it a kittenish lick before delivering a silent peck on it.

“Good, good girl, ____. Resist a little more for master.” He said, walking again to the feet of the bed. “Hold tight.” He announced before the crop snapped forward, hitting you straight on your swollen labia with unspeakable strength.

Your whole body jerked in the aftermath, trying to curl up in defense.

“Oh, Giggles. Did it hurt?” He asked, actual compassion in his voice.

“The spheres.” You said, your face twitching with the incredible pressure rushing through your whole body.

“I want one last thing.” He said, delivering light pats to your clit. “Just one.”

And just like that the riding crop twisted once more, going back to the furred head and beginning to dart between your thighs.

Again you tugged at the ropes, hoping they would allow you to close your legs. In vain.

The more you tugged, the more you realised you were completely at his mercy, laughters erupting from your lips in an open mouthed expression, your brow and nose scrunched up in helplessness. “No!” You shrieked, your face hiding against your arm as the fleeting touch of the crop brought new tears to your eyes and new giggles to your mouth.

“Master! Mercy! Please! I’m— Hos— Hobi! No! I’m— I’m a good girl...” You pleaded desperately. “I’m a good—” You spoke weakly. “Yellow.” You called, sobbing in earnest now that you felt afraid and frustrated, the spheres inside you something too difficult to handle for your tired and sensitive body.

Hoseok was trained on hearing your safewords. You had spent hours training with ropes and reflexes and responses. He had spent a whole night sitting on a chair, telling you to talk about your day and randomly insert your safewords in the conversation, jumping up each time you spoke one, then sitting again and tuning his ears to your small talk, ready to jump up at the next.

Therefore, when he heard your whispered ‘yellow’, he immediately stood up and threw the crop to the floor, out of the way, sliding his fingers under one of his knots and tugging at it composedly, watching as the loops loosened and slipped past your heel, off your foot. He moved to the next leg, this time acting even faster.

“The spheres. Yellow.” You sobbed again.

“I’m here, ____. I’m here for you, Giggles. You called your yellow, baby, I’m taking them out.” He explained, kneeling between your legs and tugging at the ring, the first coming out quickly, coated in your wetness; same for the next. The last three were almost imperceptible.

��There you go, Giggles.” He laid on top of you, keeping his weight from your body by propping himself up on his elbows. “Baby.”

“I’m so sensitive.” You cried out. “Please. Make it good.” You begged, eyes watering again.

“No, no, no, baby bird. Look at me.” He called, catching your chin between his index and thumb. “I’ll make it good. So good, love.” He murmured, feeding you small kisses. “So, so good, my tiny, precious Giggles. Do you trust master?” He asked, rubbing his thumb back and forth against your cheekbone.

You nodded.

“Then we’ll use this.” He said, sitting up and stretching to the bedside table, opening the small box he had placed there. He dove his finger in, fishing out a small rubber ring with a thick bullet attached. He brought it close to your eyes. You stared, mesmerised before nodding furiously. “But on a low setting. I’m very, very sensitive right now.” You said, worried.

“Of course, baby.” He said, quickly taking off his robe, parting his legs and biting his lower lip as he slipped the tight rubber cockring around his shaft and down to his base.

“Do you need your wrists free, dove?” He asked you, with an affectionate caress to your outer thigh.

“I can keep them.” You said, determined.

He spread your legs further.

“I’m gonna slide in, _____. Can I?” He asked.

“Yes, master.” You said, reassuring him yourself, stretching to watch him penetrate you.

The moment his tip rested inside you, you mewled in relief, the burning sensation barely there as he slid out, staring at the head of his cock coated in your thick, creamy arousal.

“You’re so good in here, love.” He said, sliding in again and bottoming out in one smooth thrust.

Your mouth stayed open as you finally felt the fullness of his sex fill your inner walls, brushing them in a way the spheres couldn’t, with their rolling and their complete lack of stiffness in length.

“Switch it on, please, master!” You begged with your most gentle voice, trying to conceal your command.

He obeyed you nonetheless. He wanted nothing but to see you spent on the sheets, with a beatific smile, clinging to him as sleep caught you in its motherly arms.

He pushed the small button controlling the bullet, even the lowest setting affecting him as the vibrations ricocheted to his balls, the tightness of the rubber postponing his release.

You reached your high in minutes as he slid discreetly, slowly, lazily in and out of you, focusing on a calm, steady pattern that could allow him to touch your face and caress your hair away from your forehead, to rub your lower lip with his thumb and place soft pecks on your temples and cheeks and jaw.

Your high welcomed you with open arms, like a dive from a cliff in the Mediterranean, the soothing blue embracing your body and cradling it, filling you with the energy of that calm, marine giant until you emerged again, drifting on the flat surface of the water, the sun warming your face, creating a complete sense of balance and peace with the fresh, cool sensation at your back.

Once Hoseok saw your eyes flutter open, he smiled, still driving his hips into you with tiny, controlled movements that he rarely offered you, and that fit the missionary position you were in.

He looked at you expectantly. You waited a couple more seconds before you noticed his hips faltering, one of your eyebrows arching. “Please.” He moaned.

You waited another couple seconds, watching his brow furrow, his lips pucker, his jaw clench before his mouth opened. “Please.” He repeated.

“Fuck me up.” You said, with saccharine voice.

A millisecond later, he was kneeling, your legs joined together and thrown over his shoulder, your ass hanging midair as he hammered into you with a speed you didn’t deem human.

“So sweet. Tight. Fuck!” He growled, moaning, his voice getting higher and higher in pitch until you felt him snap, his hips buckling forward.

And as his high bloomed you felt yours grow again, the reckless drive of his hips making your own pelvis undulate to meet his ruthless thrusts.

“Another?” He asked, his cock still painfully hard as he twisted the ring around and made sure that the bullet would meet your clit as he threw both your legs on the bed, your body rolling on your side while he picked up your knee and bent it to your chest. He adjusted the ring and once he felt your chirping whimpers intensify, he left it in place, hammering into you like a man possessed.

“Yes, Hoseok, yes! Keep going—” You spurred him on. “I love you so much, Hobi, I swear, please, if you— Yes!”

You both came undone, your body exploding like fireworks, your wetness pouring out of you endlessly, while he kept pushing, like he was trying to penetrate into the very soul of you.

And then he let your leg go, making your body roll back into the mattress, sliding forward and stretching his legs from underneath his body, his fingers fumbling with the vibrator and switching it off before laying on top of you, this time letting his weight fall on your body.

“Sex so good.” Hoseok murmured. “Never had it in my whole life.” He murmured, mouthing at your chest innocently, looking for reassurance and tenderness and cuddles.

“Hoseok, baby, I need you to undo the cuffs, love.” You said with a sheepish smile.

“Sure.” He said, suddenly awakening and stretching to reach the left cuff, then the right, unlatching them in record time.

Another part of his training.

Kneeling between your legs once more, he stared at you and rose to his knees, towering over you. With gritted teeth he started slipping off the cockring, more of his semen pouring out in small drops now that the tight rubber band was milking him of what he had left. You stared at the scene, at the focused, strained lines of his face, at the way his hair, now almost dry in soft little waves, eclipsed his gaze entirely.

He stared at your mound marked in his seed, before meeting your eyes captivated by the vision.

“I claimed my girl. In our house.”

“Way to christen the new flatmate.” You giggled as he laid down and nuzzled against you, not even worried about his cum staining him too.

“It’s our home.”

You nodded and caressed his hair. “Welcome home, love.” You said, happy that you could finally speak the words you’ve been dying to say since you had moved in.

“Welcome home.” He repeated, kissing your heart and closing his eyes, waiting for you to fall asleep before he stood up and fixed the mess the two of you had made.

#hoseok smut #jhope smut #hoseok x reader #jhopex reader #hoseok x y/n #jhope x reader #bts smut #bts blog #bangtan smut

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namjoonchronicles · 4 years ago

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finer arts | th

↳ genre fluff, slice of life, domestic, husband-Taehyung ↳ words 4.6k ↳ summary inspired by the Baumgartner Restoration channel on Youtube, Taehyung is written as a fine art restorer. This fic centres on the point where arts and science collide. Also, long haired Taehyung. Unedited. :’) ↳ song miley cyrus ‘when i look at you’ slowed ver.

Very soft. Taehyung’s hair, at this length, had always been soft. It’s been awhile since he told you he wanted them to grow longer, and it’s finally paying off. He looks terribly soft with bangs going just a little over his brows and poking his eyes. Gathering his hair into one apple sprout and tying it up has always been your favourite way to start the day. He was humming Frank Sinatra's in the living room as it played on the bluetooth speaker when you found him. Always so hardworking. You leaned on your side by the wall, folding your arms and watching your husband pouting at the document he was reading as his head hung low. Big round glasses sliding down the slope of his Godly carved nose he learned to hate, growing up. Parker Fountain Pen in his slender fingers, cross crossing, underlining, circling the paper in a professional manner makes you remember why you had fallen for him. Slowly, but surely.

He lifts his eyes, noticing another presence in the room, and briefly smiles before returning to his writing pad again, greeting in a deep voice, “You’re awake?”

“Yes, I am…” you nodded, indulging the view still. When he starts to repeatedly push his hair away from his face, you take off your own hairband and have him sit down on the floor, with his back leaning against the couch. And you gather his hair with your finger raking the locks gently, tying an apple sprout hair. His eyes were glued on the work he brought home.

“I take it that you’re leaving home for the studio today?” you tipped his head back, chin pointed upward, demanding his attention. He chuckles through his nose as you leaned in for a chaste kiss on the lips, where his beauty mark is and then the tip of his nose and the skin between his brows. With the chuckles alone, you knew you were right. Judging from the wrinkles on his forehead when he crosses out the plans he had, you knew that he was handling a semi large painting.

Taehyung is a fine-art conservator-restorer and because of it, his work consumes him. He treats his client’s painting like his own wife; each with their own time, loving and care. Instead of being envious towards the time he puts in them, you weigh more on the term ‘admiration’, towards his work and dedication. He truly is invested in his line of profession. It was only natural for an art lover like him to eventually become an artist himself, but after some unfortunate series of art blocks, he began to turn to conservation midway through college. You were always supportive of his aspirations. Although you don’t share the same passion for arts to actually go to a college as an art major like him, he always says you should have been an artist rather than scientist when he saw you sketch a lion behind your notes, after being frustrated about writing papers on your research.

Ever since then, you and Taehyung shared an art studio at your shared home after marriage.

“Polyurethane,” he let out a deep sigh. One word is enough.

A big part about restoration and conservation is perfection. When the previous conservator uses polyurethane as varnish, the next restorer, in this case is Taehyung, will have endless scrapings to do. Polyurethane becomes embedded in the paint, which makes most restorers emotionally frustrated. This poorly chosen varnish not only becomes a part of the paint, it makes it difficult to remove because it is scraped along with the original paint by the painter and artist. This then, leads to more restoration work because the objective of a restorer, is to… restore. Using polyurethane just adds into the time working on it. The last time he dealt with polyurethane paintings, he went home with colors drained out from his face. He spent a week on them because he needs to be extra careful to get most of the polyurethane out with minimal damage on the painting.

After the scrapings, he will have to remove the paintings from the old plywood it came with and it was glued with rabbit-skin glue which is the most tedious process, one after the other.

“When it came to the studio, I was holding my breath because the state of it... was just,” Taehyung puffed his cheek and deflated it. Where does he even start? Dented surface, skewed plywood frames, rabbit skin glue, and polyurethane varnish. The owner’s cat sat on the painting. And this painting was already fragile at this time. It was a very old painting auctioned for at least a million dollar. Taehyung almost fainted.

Right. That was how he is. When Taehyung works on a painting, any painting for that matter, of any values of any age, he is consumed by it. Giving it his all, but careful not to leave traces of him as to respect the original painter.Taehyung, as an artist, is mind blowingly authentic. He has unique perceptions towards everything he sees and he was the first few artist you knew that began with taking photographs. Actually, he was the only artist you knew all your life that was intimate enough to have this talk. Back in the days, art students don’t really mingle with science nerds due to unforeseen differences seniors claim to have. You personally were told that art students are too superficial to really want to understand the world and that they see you as a fuss in human form. You believed none of that bullshit.

You have always been the kind to look deeper than what is on the surface, always skin deep. Taehyung noticed this from the first time he laid eyes on you. There was something worth uncovering.

Just like today, when your eyes tunnels into the magnifier to see the photographed version of the painting he was supposed to restore, he gets giddy at the fact that his wife, his forever girlfriend takes so much interest in so many things and is well-versed in all kinds of art despite not being a member of the field. It was at moments like these that he relentlessly wonders why you never considered to seriously take art degrees just like your science stuff.

“Looks flaky, and the dent is so deep…” you commented, craning your neck on his desk as he watches fondly from the side, “You’ll have to patch it up and sew it together…”

The smile melts away and he averted his eyes, tapping his index finger on his knee at the same time. By his demeanor alone, you know that he dislikes this. The work just keeps piling on, and more and more of the original paint is lost. Like a wet on wet painting work, that keeps bleeding color, the painting will have more of Taehyung than it would of its owner. Taehyung let out a sigh you understood so well. You leave the painting’s print on the table with the magnifying glass set away on the corner with the rest of his tools. You bring yourself next to him and put your arm around his neck and the other palm rests on one side of his face, sliding down his chiseled jaws and thumb, tracing his lips. His cologne swims around your nostril, and the smell of his hair that you love, engulfs you. He gathers his arms around your waist, rests his head under your chin and stays like that as long as you both need.

He will be away for long and intimacy of such degree would be difficult to execute. Long tiring week ahead will make you drift you both apart, only to hopefully meet each other like the first time again.

You remember the first time you laid your eyes on Kim Taehyung. He was helping the waitress picking the pieces of fallen tissues after a minor accident. He looked like he walked out of someone’s innate dream. Clean-shaven, dark brown comma hair, boring a dark brown suit and pants to match. The selfless act was something intriguing to you. It’s so rare to find someone who would take the time to help others in such a fast-paced era where everything has to be quick and perfect. You remember turning away and smiling to yourself, grateful that there’s such men still in the world. You never planned to find any attachments that night, it was just a casual formal gathering that you had to attend in order to remain in the social circle. You actually wanted to leave after thirty minutes, and probably watch a late night movie at a nearby movie theatre to appease yourself.

A drink in your hand, a small talk about how good the eclairs were, and a little bit about your short-term plans; apart from that, there was nothing much. You were never the kind to approach people first, finding more interest in the food than you do the people attending. But not your best friend, not Jimin. He is the loudest, most animatic figure out there, talking about all kinds of things, doing a lot of gags and just, a walking entertainment channel, with his addictive laughter and outgoing personality. Jimin would make friends with a broomstick if it attended. It was because of him that you were dragged into this little dinner party. He said if you come, he will join your presentation that he called boring and asked relevant questions. After careful consideration, and losing a couple of friends because of your hectic college schedule, you had no choice but adhere to his demands.

“Hi,” a succulent honeyed deep voice greeted you from behind, “Where did you get those jelly desserts?”

You glanced at him and when you recognised that he was that dude who helped the waitress, you shot your eyes back to your plate instantly, then jerked your head back up, “From the dessert corner, next to the pillar… I think they haven’t refilled them,” you said to him through a smile. Wow, he was so much taller than you expected. And, smells so nice.

“Oh thank you,” he tutted his tongue and nodded once, before he walked away grinning, “Over there right?” He walks sideways to talk to you still. He almost trips over the folded carpet and you got instantly worried before replying in a haste, “Yes! Oh careful, please!”

He gave an okay sign and puffed his cheeks.

Finding the back of your calves began to strain from the long period of standings, you had to find yourself a bar stool and ate your food alone, while Jimin was throwing his head back at a joke one of his new friends were telling. Someone took the empty seat next to you and sat with a huff.

“We already met twice and I still don’t know your name,” he peels his eyes off of his plate and turns sideways to you, “I’m Taehyung, Kim Taehyung.” You said your name in a hurry with an awkward giggle at the end, before poking your fork into the grapes and shoving them into your mouth.

“Did you come here alone?” he asked. “No, but he looks like he is having fun,” you didn’t specify who it was and Taehyung hung his head low with a dry, “Oh.” “You?” you replied. “Alone,” Taehyung said, “Didn’t plan to stay very long…I was going to catch a movie.”

Your eyes light up, “What movie? Because I’m not staying too!” Taehyung pouts, “Haven’t decided… I was going to decide there and then.”

“It’s nice to watch movies alone ha…” “Helps me recharge…” “What major are you? We’re from the same uni, correct?” “I am. I am an art major, and now more to restoration and conservator.” “Oooo, interesting… Meticulous work. That’s amazing.”

Taehyung then learns that you’re a science major, pharmaceutical technology. It sounded foreign to him, he had never known anyone with a science major, let alone talk to one. They always seem so…

“Fussy? Introverted? Closed up?” you listed. He shakes his head, jutting his lower lip out trying to think of a better adjective to describe, shooting his eyes to the ceiling then to the right. “Guarded,” Taehyung tipped his head to the side, looking at you as he spoke. “I get why we seemed that way,” you swirled your fork around the plate of spaghetti you took and nodded in agreement, “But we’re probably thinking about our gazillion unfinished reports and stressed out about why the results aren’t tally, and forgetting our breakfast, lunch and dinner, being high on caffeine…” you shrugged your shoulder, explaining.

“Doesn’t seem like a healthy way to live,” Taehyung commented, “But I understand the struggle.”

Discussing about the stereotypes, the polar opposites of a science versus art majors lasted longer than you expected. Art majors and science majors actually share more in common than you’d think. For starters, both are extremely meticulous and precise. Taehyung spoke about the specification of colours and blending of several techniques into one art requires an extensive studies of observations and practice. As a conservator, he must recognise personalized styles of close to thousands of painters to differentiate a genuine piece from a copy--a skill that would take years and decades to perfect.

For science, specifics come in the definition of science. There has to be hypotheses to be proven, and theories that aligned with the results. Making medication has several strict rules; and the process, the testing are endless. From the drug is being formulated, to the way it is processed, and how it reacts when it enters the human body, to how long it takes to be expelled and whatever happened in between must be noted. Uniformity, size particles, bottling, storage, etc. are all taken into custody when it comes to making drugs. You told Taehyung about the exhausting 48 sets of 100mL volumetric flask being used in order to determine the complete dissolution of 100mG of paracetamol.

“I get cross-eyed having to stare at the mark, trying not to make mistakes,” you smiled and Taehyung giggled. “I understand about getting cross-eyed,” he added. He continues about having to re-color a varnished painting with a limited set of light in the studio, and not being able to determine what pigment it was until daylight reveals that he was wrong.

“I think art and science are two things humans can’t live without,” you started, looking down at your semi empty plate, “I mean, life depends on science, but art is what makes it worth living.” “Rebecca Atwood,” Taehyung cited. Then you both looked at each other for what seemed the longest time, as if you both had found home in each other.

Your heart clearly whispered, “Where have you been all my life?” And for a period of time, you actually believed it was one-sided. How could someone like Taehyung want to spend time with you. But you guys eventually went to the movies together.

Jimin called midway through the movie. You excused yourself and took the call outside the hall.

“Yo, where art thou? The party’s over, don’t tell me you went home without me,” Jimin nags.

“I’m at the movies, I’ll get the Uber, don’t worry,” you hissed, “No, Jimin, I’m going to be fine. It’s not that late, I’ll call you when I get home. Yes, I know there’s class tomorrow at 2pm, alright bye,” you hang up and rush back inside.

Taehyung looks at you with wondering eyes and you felt inclined to explain, “Jimin. Asked me where I was, and wanted to go home. I said I’ll take the Uber.”

“Uber? No, I can drive you home,” Taehyung offered. You don’t think you should be in a car with someone you barely know so you politely declined. Taehyung however, waited with you for the Uber, and waved you goodbye. He didn’t ask for your number, much to your disappointment. But maybe it was a one night thing for him. It’s not like you expected anything, so why do you carry yourself heavily to your dorm?

It was rare to find someone you could connect to in such a short time. Tonight was a miracle at work, and it was short lifted. Laying down in your bed with the light from your phone shone over your face, you scrolled down Instagram to see your married highschool friend cradling babies. Another friend just got married. Another is half a world away. A few are taking pictures of cute dates they went on. And then there’s you, who is now staring at each one filled with envy and discontent, wondering if anyone will ever find the time to notice you and hopefully fall for you. Deep inside, all you ever wanted was to be in love. Despite you plunge yourself into heavy work in the most strenuous field out there, you were inexplicably lonely. It gets increasingly difficult as you grow older, and your options for men decreases.

They say, everyone has a soulmate. But for some reason, you think God forgot to make yours. Real connection is possibly impossible to find. The love you seek probably doesn’t exist.

And as you turn your phone face down next to you, it vibrated a message in.

Jimin: Are you home yet? Hello? Jimin: So you found Kim Taehyung? From arts? Jimin: He texted me the Uber car’s plate number to make sure I know where you are…

You replied,

You: yes.. You: you know taehyung??

Jimin: uh yeah. Orientation week together. Campmates. Jimin: how was it? You: he was nice… Jimin: You cold-blooded women. You: XD

The next day was your presentation. After spotting Jimin in the crowd, you immediately felt better. Some familiar faces would be nice. Final year project presentations can be brutal. Some of the questions you expected would be the purpose, the motive, the need for this project to be funded and why it carries such significance. Sometimes what you expect doesn't happen, and because of that you get very disheartened and disappointed. No matter how brave you decide to be, your body protests and rebels against your wishes. The way the bottle tremble in your hands shows how much this is hammering your dignity. It is as if you expected to be humiliated. You glanced down to your heavily arrowed notes and scribbles, closing your eyes as you stood in the back stage, mentally preparing yourself. How to be bulletproof?

Had he not helped the girl to purchase a canned coffee from the vending machine, he would not have been late, Taehyung thought. Now he creeps in the back of the lecture hall, carrying his own opened canned drink. There was an extra unopened canned coffee drink he snuck in. You had already started your presentations. Does he have the mental capacity for this new information? Of course. There were a few terms he wasn’t familiar with, but it was not enough to bore him. Your simpler explanation the night you met actually helped a lot. The oozing charisma you carry and the calm way you carry yourself was something worth looking up to. It was the kind that he actually envied about you. He had a feeling that you weren’t showing all parts of you and because of that, he was intrigued. Even as he sat there as an audience, completely at awe of your presentation, you were magnetic.

Not a single one person in that auditorium was paying their attention elsewhere. Being able to draw such dedication and passion is a talent. And it was all Kim Taehyung wished he could do.

“With all the existing medication with the same purpose, what good would a research in the same area pose? A renewal?” “And what about the gene-specific cancer studies that are already initiated since 2004? Haven’t we spent enough on that?” “What about the ethical issues surrounding the existing CRISPR, the so-called genetic-specific medications?”

The questions from the PhD holders you presented were all valid. You agreed.

“As a scientist, we understand that our research will continue far after our death. Many researches are done without a clear view of where the finish line is. If we want to talk about ethical issues regarding gene modifications, we have done them on all the things we could consume, grow and breed. If we have the power to prevent abnormality before it becomes one, why do we second guess ourselves? Isn’t the purpose of science to better understand, and then to prevent? To create a better living?”

The room fell into a deathly silence, and you were inclined to go back to your statements but when you dragged your eyes to the corner of the room, you saw some juniors nodding in agreement to what you’ve just said, you regained a little ounce of confidence. “But we haven’t truly understood the after effects of gene modifications. And through all prolonged research thus far, it doesn’t suggest a good result. How do you guarantee a perceptible study in the development of the medication you’re proposing?”

. . . Sniffles greeted Taehyung at the door he pushed opened gently. You were standing by the handrails on the faculty’s rooftop, the papers you brought in scattered around the ground. Some are drained into the pool of water puddle from last night’s rain. Digging the heels of your palm into your eyes, you heard the door creaked open and jumped.

“I’m sorry…” Taehyung whispered. You glanced over your shoulder at him and then turned away. Not because of anger or fear, but from shame. You have never shown anyone this timid side of you. You’re always expected to be strong, and you took that mask on literally. Having someone witnessing your vulnerability is as foreign as the sight of a shooting star. How unlucky for Taehyung, you thought.

“I bought you…” he placed the canned drink on the ground, next to where you placed your backpack, “A canned coffee.”

“How did you,” you sniffed, “How did you know that the presentations’ today?” “You told me the night we met?” he answered, in a confused tone.

And you gave him a lopsided smile, “Oh right. I’m not used to people remembering my errands. Jimin never does. No one ever does.”

“I am not actually good at remembering. But for some reason, yours was unforgettable,” he added an awkward chuckle at the end, scratching the back of his head not sure why he finds conversation with you feel homey. Sincerity and honesty comes naturally like breathing the air in.

“I did a crap job at presenting, didn’t I?” it was a statement, pretentiously laid out as a question.

But Taehyung knew better than to cement the depressive thought. Then he scooted near to you, and coil to your side, to give you a puppy eyed bright smile.

That was when you first knew a Kim Taehyung. Everything else that happened after that seemed like a story written just for you. But loving Kim Taehyung didn’t come without challenges. When you love a man as attractive as that, there will be wandering eyes directed towards him. And you have your own fair share of evil eyes directed at you. How can a science nerd catch the attention of an art student? It was totally unheard off. Had Taehyung paid any attention to those thirsty hyenas, you would have given up the fight. However, this is Taehyung you’re talking about. Once he had his eyes set to a person, he developed tunnel vision only to that person.

For years, you struggled with perfection. And the thing about the struggle is that it was common to everyone, but so few would understand. Perfection quickly becomes a disease to over-achievers. Had it not been Taehyung, you would probably engage in an insufferable discontentment towards life and everything it has to offer. Everything changed when he handed you a paint brush and a 200-sized plain white canvas and a studio to yourself.

You felt liberated.

Not knowing where your illustrations will take you was the first taste of freedom you had ever allowed yourself to feel. Because in the arts, there are no wrongs or rights. And it's uniquely yours. And the look on Taehyung’s face when it's done? Priceless. To the point that you think you began drawing because of him and that he was just saying the things you wanted to hear. Then he hangs your drawings in the open hall, and brings home the comments written by the art lovers to prove that you are wrong.

When it comes to relationship turbulences, Taehyung and you personally respect each other’s space, friendship choices and principles. Such maturity is again rare so you’d like to think that you’re lucky in that sense. However, Taehyung’s family proved to be a massive hurdle. While you were raised in a humble home, and accustomed to having sleep as dinners, Taehyung’s family owns a collection of farms that produces vegetables and fruits, and Taehyung’s favourites happen to be strawberries. He surely is raised in an upper middle class well into his elementary years and then catapulted into first class around his high school time. Not to say that he doesn’t know what it’s like to starve, he has a fairshare of that in his rebellious years; but he was not used to the life you lead. The part-time jobs, the tutoring weekends, the errands. He never had to do those.

When he brought you home to his parents for the first time, you felt out of place. His penthouse, his army of maids, sports cars and spacious area. His parents, they were wonderful. They welcomed you with open arms. Even inviting you to a family-only event, introducing you to everyone, and then letting you see their family photo albums. Taehyung has a massive support system, a healthy relationship compared to yours. No matter how much he wants to convince you that his life isn’t perfect, it was a whole lot better than yours. You remember how he snuck you into his bedroom in the middle of the night when his parents were asleep, the snickering, the whispers and the night you shared, cuddling. You had tears in your eyes that night, because you never thought you’d be this fortunate.

Watching him fall asleep in your lap so soundly really made you think about the last time you ever made someone this comfortable. Is this how it feels to love and cherish? Finding a middle ground is not always easy, and most people take time to reach there. For Taehyung and you, sacrificing a lot comes without say. Your internal conflicts and his willingness to understand your perspective, and vice versa--it all takes time. You can owe it all to Taehyung’s ultimate patience. Just like the way he handles his work. Meticulously, and carefully. Like how chemicals are precise, the paints are too.

In every phase of life, we are being prepared for the phase that comes next. In accordance to what we are made of, we continue to evolve, continue to grow. And it is in this stage that we feel most vulnerable, most bare, most uncomfortable. Sometimes you dread the things that you weren’t allowed to have, much like the doctorate you sought after (that took much longer than others), the way it was withheld from you because life said you weren’t ready yet, even when you thought you were. Waiting patiently becomes the hardest part of it all. Although Taehyung might not understand half the things you went through, isn't he still here? Isn’t he still holding your hand? Isn’t he still singing to you?

Fine arts are creative art, especially visual art whose products are to be appreciated primarily or solely for their imaginative, aesthetic, or intellectual content. If that’s the case, then Taehyung must be finer arts.

:. I wrote a bit about the things I do in university, I’m sorry if you find that boring... it’s the only world I know... I am currently going through mid-semester exams, and I’m not doing well, spark up a fever with 3 more papers to go. Anyways. Have a great day!

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felidaefighter · 4 years ago

Text

Fears To Ease And Flesh To Mend

Ranboo and Tubbo find out that unzombifying a piglin is a bit different from unzombifying a villager, and they start off parenthood with quite a few complications and in a little over their heads. For the sake of their child, they may need to put awkwardness aside and ask for help.

[Sick fic, canon divergence, Phil and Techno meet Michael, lots and lots of piglin lore headcanons] ~20,000 words per chapter

Chapter Three of Four

Ranboo knocked lightly on the door, and Tubbo opened it almost immediately, greeting him with a giant yawn. “Hi, Tubbo,” Ranboo said fondly. “Hi, Ranboo,” Tubbo replied through his yawn. Phil cleared his throat awkwardly from behind him. “Uh, hello, Tubbo. We haven’t… spoken in a while. Techno is here too.” Tubbo stared dead-eyed exhausted at him from inside, still holding the door open. “Yeah, been a while. Don’t think we’ve talked since you blew up L’Manberg.” Phil and Techno both made awkward grimacing noises, as Ranboo did the same. Tubbo rolled his eyes. “I’m letting all the cold air in. Might as well come inside. Michael’s room is upstairs.”

As the three of them stepped in from the chill and shook off the frost from their coats and the snow from their boots, Ranboo looked at Tubbo, concerned. “You don’t look like you slept.” Tubbo shook his head. “Not really. I dozed off a few times in the armchair upstairs but I was too worried.” Ranboo nodded empathetically. He would’ve done the same. “Up the ladder,” Tubbo said, gesturing, clearly too tired for proper emphasis. Ooh boy. Looks like Ranboo was going to have to do most of the talking. Which was an issue, as Ranboo wasn’t too good at that.

Ranboo was the second up the ladder, and could feel himself grow soft as soon as he laid eyes on his son. He greeted the little piglin, who, although still clearly not feeling great, acknowledged him in return. Phil, then Techno, stepped into the room, Phil treading ever-so-lightly with both his feet and his demeanor. Phil let out a sharp inhale and a wince when he saw Michael. “Ooohh. That’s a lot of bandages.” He inspected the situation as well as he could from across the room. “You did a good job of wrapping it. We’re gonna have to unwrap them all to make sure it’s been properly cleaned though unfortunately.” Tubbo swore under his breath at that, but he didn’t mean it harshly. It’d just taken them a long time to wrap.

“Quite a lot of battle scars,” Techno remarked. If Ranboo was honest, their cautiousness wasn’t easing his worries as well as he’d have hoped it would. He moved subconsciously to Tubbo’s side; they were both feeling a little under scrutiny when faced with Phil and Techno, experts at this, and the worry they’d done something wrong. “May I?” Phil gestured to Michael as Techno leaned against a wall, and Tubbo nodded, Ranboo humming his approval. He stepped closer to the little piglin and crouched down beside the bed. Michael snorted at him. “Heyyy Michael,” Phil said softly, “I’m Philza. I’m gonna take off your bandages to look at your wounds now, okay?”

“I dunno why you’re tellin’ him in english. He probably only knows piglin right now,” Techno said, grinning when that earned him a harsh shush from Phil. “No comments from the peanut gallery unless you’re gonna help!” Phil very, very carefully unwrapped the bandage on Michael’s head, who was either too tired or too polite to try and stop him. He held a steadying hand on the other side of Michael’s head while he looked at the eyesocket, the edges of his flesh, and the place his ear used to be. Phil turned to Tubbo and Ranboo, who immediately squeezed eachother’s hands a bit nervously. Huh. Ranboo supposed they must’ve done that subconsciously. Definitely blaming the nerves for that one.

“You two did a pretty good job. He’s responsive and seems to have a general idea of where he is. I can’t say yet if there’s any internal damage, but he’s definitely been properly cured. I doubt there’s much you could’ve done to change the extent of his sores, too.” Ranboo and Tubo both exhaled in very obvious relief. Phil stood up with a bit of a stretching noise, and shot a pointed look at Techno. “You wanna make sure everything’s alright, mate?” Techno, very alarmed at having been put in the spotlight despite the audience in question being two socially awkward and exhausted teens, his best friend, and a half-dead toddler, immediately started to protest.

“You can’t test his cognitive skills without knowing where his language is at,” Phil prodded, teasing, “And you know my piglish sucks.” Techno hummed in thought, a little persuaded by the chance to brag/show off. “That is true.” Still, he seemed hesitant. “It’s ah-- it’s gonna be a little awkward since I’m not too great with kids and it’s been a while since I spoke piglish. Does this have to have an audience?”

“Yes.” Tubbo answered flatly. “Tubbo!” Chided Phil, but Ranboo didn’t exactly blame his husband. “I mean… you wouldn’t do anything to Michael, right?” Ranboo asked Techno, who looked rather offended at the question. “Of course not! Who do you take me for? I mean, Michael clearly isn’t an orphan anymore,” Techno joked to try to ease the tension, but while Ranboo nodded in acknowledgement and in an attempt at reassurance towards Tubbo, Tubbo narrowed his eyes. “Fine. But I’ve got my eye on you. You so much as move the wrong way and you’re going down.”

Phil muttered reassurances about Techno’s intentions at Tubbo while he gently placed his hands on Tubbo’s shoulders, leading him away and down the ladder. Ranboo sent one last, concerned glance towards Techno. “I won’t do anything,” Techno promised, “Except maybe ask him how he feels about government. But I doubt he’s gonna know what that is yet.” Ranboo nodded again and went down the ladder after Phil and Tubbo.

Tubbo, as exhausted as he was, leaned on the wall by the ladder looking prepared to gain a second wind and scramble upstairs in a hurry if necessary. Ranboo was almost certain it wouldn’t be, but he felt a surge of love on seeing how dedicated and protective his husband could be. Phil hovered in the main area, not quite finding a seat, and spoke to the two more in-depth about Michael’s recovery.

“Unfortunately, this isn’t the kind of thing that’s gonna heal overnight. Like I said before, he’s already been kinda oversaturated with magic just from his origin, so potions aren’t gonna seal up everything all nice and tidy.” Phil paced lightly while he spoke out of lack of something to fiddle with. Tubbo’s eyes watched him like a hawk, but his ears were most certainly more centered on making sure there was no commotion upstairs.

“The biggest concern is gonna be the parts of his skull that’re currently exposed,” Phil continued. “Keepin’ ‘em bandaged should be mostly fine, but you should disinfect it about three times daily with room temperature cloth. Not washed or anything, just pat him down. You’ll want to put a salve on there and the skin around the edge, too, so that when it heals the skin can grow back over. It’ll be scar tissue but it’ll keep him from coming down with anything. That’ll be best for the long run.” Ranboo scrambled to write all of what Phil was saying down, eager for the information.

“Question, okay, uh, is there a certain type of each thing that we’ll need? And if so, where do I get it, or can I borrow it from you?” Phil chuckled lightly, and combined with the non-judgemental onslaught of information, both Ranboo and Tubbo both were starting to relax. “Of course you can mate,” Phil replied fondly, “You need it more than I do right now. I can go on an errand run for you both after Techno’s done here.” He turned sympathetically to Tubbo at that. “You look like you could use some rest.”

Tubbo sighed, finally letting his guard down a little. “Honestly, I probably would’ve been asleep ages ago if I weren’t so damn worried about Michael. I reckon I could’ve fell asleep standing up a few times and wouldn’t’ve known.” Ranboo nodded in understanding. The only reason he hadn’t been stopped from sleeping is because he tended to run on anxiety almost all of the time anyways. It looked like he was going to be spending most of his time in the coming weeks running back and forth between his own house and Snowchester; he didn’t mind, though.

“Thank you, Phil. Honestly, thank you.” Ranboo paused before asking the one thing that had mainly been on his mind. “I’m just surprised that you and Techno aren’t--” Phil interrupted abruptly. “The health and safety of a child will always come first.” After realizing his tone was a little harsh, he sighed and continued more carefully. “Techno and I feel how we feel. We haven’t really had a chance to process anything yet. Give us a bit to do that first yeah?”

Ranboo nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. That makes sense, actually. Of course.” Tubbo, having figured out what that was all about, spoke up. “I was wondering about that!” A second wave of realization hit him and he turned to Ranboo. “Wait, you told them???” He hissed in a lowered voice. “My son lives at your house! I think they woulda figured it out!” Ranboo replied in the same tone. “Our son!” Tubbo corrected, half-offended. In the background, Phil was covering his mouth, stifling a chuckle at the bickering couple.

They were interrupted when heavy footsteps came down the ladder, and instantly parted to make way for the large piglin. Techno turned to Ranboo. “He’s a toddler, so like, his words? Ain’t really that great to begin with. But uh cognitively I think he’s doin’ fine. He can understand and respond to most questions at least, even if his responses tend to be ninety percent gibberish. At any rate it probably won’t be tough to teach him english. Toddlers man. They’re fast learners.” It was very obvious the only thing stopping him from making a joke about drop-kicking toddlers was Tubbo’s death glare and how awkward he already felt about the whole business.

Phil clapped his hands together. “Right! Well, Techno and I are gonna head back home, and I’ll run that delivery for you. Remember what I said about re-wrapping and applying the ointments and salve and stuff. Don’t worry too much about his ear canal yet, I’ll get some drops, and make sure he’s eating slowly and steadily throughout the day as opposed to regular mealtimes. I’ll be back later. You two have got this for now, yeah?”

Ranboo and Tubbo, rather startled at the abruptness of it all, hummed and muttered agreements and nodded while Ranboo double-checked he’d written that all down. “Goodbye Tubbo. Ranboo,” Techno said, following Phil out the door. As it shut behind them, Ranboo turned to the smaller man. “Should we follow them out?” Tubbo had almost immediately closed his eyes and went back to resting against the ladder. “I want to,” he said, and Ranboo understood. Knowing Tubbo’s house as well as his own, he retrieved a bedroll, blanket, and pillow from a chest, hauling them up to Michael’s room, and then went downstairs and retrieved his husband.

He kind of just dropped Tubbo on the pile, who stayed exactly where he’d landed. “Sleep,” Ranboo intoned, and Tubbo groaned in response. He was asleep almost moments later. Ranboo sighed fondly, and glanced at Michael. The little piglin was asleep as well. He paused. There was a serenity in the moment, his own little family all worn out from a day of healing. As silently as possible, he pulled the blankets over them both, then settled into the armchair to watch over them.

#michael dreamsmp #ranboo #tubbo #philza #technoblade #mcyt fanfic #they write #t #p #r #family bee

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everamazingfe · 4 years ago

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The Kumbaya Approach

Fic Summary: Trevor is the captain of his own ship and is in need of a new pilot when his old one abandons the crew. Fortunately, his trusty engineer Gavin knows of a good one. Unfortunately, the cargo he brings along with him is a little more dangerous than they anticipated.

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Words: 15113 Pairings: Michael/Jeremy, Trevor/Alfredo Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence and blood

Notes: This was written for the Secret Springfairy fic exchange in the @rtwritingcommunity discord for @doolray! This was a ton of fun to write, I hope you enjoy, and big thanks to @fornhaus for proofreading/editing! Check the source for a link to read it on A 0 3!

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“What do you mean you quit?”

“I mean I quit. I’m done with this bucket of bolts. Every day there’s a new problem, a new critical failure, a new busted part, and I’m sick of it! What kind of commander can’t get a handle on his own ship?”

“Hey! Those problems aren’t my fault, it’s the-”

“-The ship’s AI, right. Heard that one a thousand times. But they’re part of the crew, too. Which means they’re your responsibility. And if you can’t keep them under control and keep your ship in shape, I’m out of here at the next port.”

The arguments had gone on like this for several days, nearly a week now, and it was the same thing every time. Jeremy would yell about how he was sick of being on the ship and lay down blame for its problems, and Trevor would defend himself against the barrage of insults instead of trying to change the other’s mind. He knew that was a futile effort, and he knew better than to fight losing battles.

The pair were silent for a long time, staring each other down. Jeremy was looking for a reason to get more wound up, to start yelling all over again. Telling off his commander for mistakes that everyone had seemingly let slide for far too long felt really good, and he wanted to keep going. Meanwhile, Trevor was calming down and calculating his next move very carefully. It was fine if his crew wanted to question his authority, they did it plenty and he never took it personally. But as far as he was concerned, Jeremy was no longer crew and no longer privy to that same mercy. After all, he’d quit.

“Fine. You can empty your quarters out and sleep in the observation deck, then. You’re no longer a member of this crew, so you no longer get to stay in crew cabins,” he stated after a few long moments, his tone cold.

Jeremy blinked in surprise, not expecting Trevor to actually do anything about it. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me. You don’t get a room anymore, those are reserved for the crew. If you’re unhappy with that arrangement, I can tell Lindsay to get the airlock open for you.”

“You know... If I leave, Michael’s gonna go with me. He goes where I go,” he reminded, though he was no longer yelling confidently. He was stumbling and faltering. Trevor had called his bluff effectively, and it was hard to keep up steam.

“Then you can help each other clean out your quarters and keep each other warm on the deck,” he responded, shrugging casually. “Finding a new science officer will be just as easy as finding a new pilot.”

“And just how do you expect to get to the next port safely?”

Trevor chuckled softly, smiling. “Lindsay is more than equipped with satisfactory navigational skills, isn’t that right Linds?”

The comms system beeped to life, and a cheerful voice was heard over the speakers. “That’s right, Commander! Jack’s charting us a course as we speak. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

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

There was some truth to Lindsay’s words. They were equipped with the best-in-the-market autopilot functionality, but Jack was not charting a course. The entirety of the crew was gathered around a large monitor in the communications bay, watching the whole ordeal unfold through Lindsay’s eyes. There were bets on how it would end. Most of the money was on it ending in blows at this point.

“Like hell I’m going with him!” Michael shouted, waving his hands and scoffing in disbelief as he looked at the screen. “I’m not idiot enough to throw away a good job when I’ve got it. I mean, sure the place is a shithole, no offense Linds-”

“None taken.”

“-But like… It’s not like we have to do anything. If I try and find another crew, they may make me do actual work! Can you imagine? I am not going anywhere.”

“I don’t think he’s going to give you a choice,” Jack said from beside him, the others all nodding in agreement. “I think you’re gonna have to go with him.”

Michael huffed, rolling his eyes and turning up the volume on the terminal. “If there’s one thing you fuckers should’ve learned about me right now, it’s this: I don’t have to do shit. Especially not for my boyfriend.”

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

Jeremy grumbled to himself as he packed up his things. Michael was, of course, no help. He just stood in the doorway and spectated, making snide remarks when he saw fit.

“You know, I’d really appreciate it if you could be on my side with this,” Jeremy said, balling up a shirt and throwing it at him. “Or at the very least, help me pack.”

Michael laughed, knocking away the shirt before it hit him in the face. “Fuck no, you dug this hole yourself. I’m not the moron who quit.”

“This place is a shithole and you know it.”

“Yeah, but you never have to fix any of it! You just have to sit there in your comfy pilot chair and wait for Gavin to do it.” Had Michael always been a little jealous of his boyfriend’s job? A little bit. The med bay was cold and unwelcoming, but the cockpit was cushy and warm. Plus, with Lindsay on board, the pilot didn’t really have to do much at all unless their systems went down. Which, to be fair, did happen a lot. “You pilots are always so snooty. You knew what you were getting into when you took this gig, you can’t expect it to be like the Ritz now.”

“Just fucking go,” Jeremy muttered, swiping up the last of his clothes from the floor. “Don’t even bother visiting, either.” The comment hurt them both, but that didn’t make him mean it any less. He didn’t want Michael to visit, he wanted him to stay at the port with him.

The other just laughed heartily and shook his head, turning on his heel to leave. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

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The observation deck was, as it always was, cold and lonely. The warm blankets and fluffy pillows that were on his bed were technically part of the quarters he had previously taken residence in, so all Jeremy had to sleep on was the metal floor, cushioned by his clothing and a few other soft belongings. The things that he owned that were unfit for laying on were stacked around him. The observation deck’s window was huge, and as he laid there unable to sleep, the vastness of space no longer brought him the same comfort it had when he was in the pilot’s seat.

“Hey, Lindsay?”

The comms beeped to life once more. “Yes, Jeremy?”

“Am I making a mistake?” He asked, sitting up and leaning back against the stack.

There were a few long seconds of contemplative silence before they spoke again. “Yeah, you are. A huge one, I’d say.”

“That’s not really comforting... I don’t suppose Trevor would be willing to… Reconsider?”

“No, I don’t think so. You insulted the ship. The commander takes that personally.” Lindsay did too, but they figured that Jeremy already felt guilty enough without them piling on as well.

“C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“Do I, though? Because I really don’t think I do,” they stated. Maybe Jeremy didn’t feel as guilty as they had hoped, so their politeness parameters were temporarily suspended. “This is a ship made from stolen parts, what do you expect? For everything to run perfectly all the time? If you wanted that, you should’ve signed up for one of the legal spacefarers out there,” they quipped. If they had eyes, they would have rolled them.

Jeremy sighed heavily, sinking down the wall and burying his face in his hands. Maybe it wasn’t too late to take Trevor up on that airlock offer, he was sure he’d be happy to oblige.

“Is Michael going with you?” Lindsay asked after a few minutes, breaking the silence and sounding innocent enough. Jeremy couldn’t tell whether they wanted a yes or a no, but there was no use lying to them. They’d seen Jeremy packing alone, his quarters empty while Michael’s were still very much full.

“No,” he responded, shaking his head, “No, he’s not. He’s gonna be staying on board.”

“Oh, good. I like him. I’d be sad if he left.”

“But you’re not sad that I’m leaving?” There was no response to his words, just the comms beeping to signal that Lindsay wouldn’t be answering more of his questions. Jeremy sighed again and lowered his hands, staring back out at the stars. “I don’t even think that Michael’s sad that I’m leaving,” he muttered to himself, laying back down in his pile of clothes and shoving an old jacket under his head for a makeshift pillow.

He couldn’t exactly blame him for it, either. Maybe he could’ve been a better boyfriend, maybe he should’ve just bitten his tongue and held back whatever criticisms he had of Trevor and the ship. But part of this felt like it was inevitable, like he was always going to blow up like this. The worst part was that he didn’t even feel guilty about any of it, he was only sorry that speaking up had the consequences that it had. It was hard to have any regrets about it when he fully believed he was doing the right thing, though.

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

It only took them another week to reach the nearest spaceport, some podunk trading and tourist hub located pretty centrally to all the bigger colonies. Trevor liked it because they’d be able to stock up on supplies without having to scrounge or overpay. That was something that desperately needed doing, the last few ports had single rations sold for thousands of credits or reasonably priced ones that were nearly a century past date. Plus, they’d have pretty good odds at finding a replacement pilot there too. Jeremy liked it because it didn’t seem like the worst place to be booted onto, he could find work with another crew or in the port pretty easily. Everyone else liked it because being at port meant a few days of rest. Lindsay didn’t have to worry about some of the more power-hungry systems that came with flying a ship, which meant that Gavin didn’t have to run around making patchwork repairs at every hour of the day. But for some, their work didn’t stop. Matt always had to keep his ear to the radio for any incoming transmissions, and Michael and Fiona could only leave their experiments and samples unattended for so long before there were catastrophic results.

Reaching port this time was different this time around, though. They’d never had to say goodbye to one of their own before. Jeremy had been permitted one last night on the ship, but in the morning he’d have to go. To honor that last night, Gavin and Michael decided to organize a going away party for their fellow lad, complete with drinks and proper food (not just freeze-dried rations that pretended to be edible) and parting gifts.

It made Jeremy feel better about going when he saw how sad everyone seemed to be, how sincere they were in expressing how much they would miss him. He’d convinced himself that they all hated him for speaking out the way that he had, no one had come to speak to him in the observation deck and the only time he saw anyone was when he was brought his rations, but the party was a good indication that they didn’t hate him: they just pitied him.

Michael was certainly the most upset, despite the fact that he’d pretended to be unbothered only a week prior. Even if they had to do it from lightyears away, they promised each other they’d find a way to make things work. The communication technology was there, they’d still be able to talk. Michael was just glad that he wouldn’t have to worry too much about Jeremy while he was gone. It was a busy port, there’d be plenty of people around looking to hire a skilled pilot. And even if he couldn’t find work right away, it was safe enough that he could stay there for a while without running into any trouble unless he went looking.

Despite all the fun of the festivities, Trevor’s absence was hard to miss. Jeremy had to admit that he’d been foolish for expecting it, but not getting a final goodbye from his former commander stung.

However, Trevor had decided that his day was best spent working instead of partying, arranging for fresh shipments of supplies to be loaded into the cargo bay and beginning his search for a new pilot. The first task was successful, the latter one… Not so much. No one was really giving him the time of day, not believing him when he told them he captained his own ship and could afford to pay handsomely for work. Or they simply weren’t interested in the cargo that would need to be transported. After he was fed a lot of bullshit from people who clearly didn’t know anything trying to weasel their way onto his ship, he reached his limit and returned to the ship, thoroughly disheartened by the end of the night.

Trevor spent the evening in his quarters, agonizing over the situation for a few hours. There were a few solid candidates when he looked past all their unfavorable qualities, but he still wasn’t thrilled about any of them. Everyone was busy partying with Jeremy, he was grateful for the peace while he tried to work something out. The only thing that pulled him out of his thoughts was Lindsay’s chime. Usually that signaled that he’d been working for too long and it was time to get some rest, so he began to stand up, stretching his arms out over his head to ease away the stiffness.

“Commander, Gavin’s outside the door. Should I let him in?” They asked, sending a feed to his terminal of the lad standing outside the doors. He sat back down slowly, squinting as he looked at the grainy footage on the screen.

“Does he look like he’s carrying any stink bombs? I can’t tell.”

There were a few moments of silent examination before the comms beeped to life again. “Nope, he’s clear.”

Trevor waved in approval then, twisting around in his chair to face the door. “Let him in, then.”

The doors slid open to reveal Gavin standing there, fortunately empty-handed, with a smile on his face. “Commander! Missed you at the party, you should’ve been there! I saved you a bev, if you want it.”

“No thanks. Some of us had actual work to do, y’know.” He paused, looking the other up and down. It was always hard to read Gavin, he was always brimming with so much energy, it was hard to tell if his fidgeting was excited stimming or covering up for anxious nerves. There was no telling what he wanted to share. “I really hope you didn’t come here just to chastise me for not going to a party for someone who couldn’t stop insulting the ship every chance he got.”

“Nah, I get it. No one insults our Lindsay and gets away with it. But… I do think I can help with some of your problems.” Trevor arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. “I know a pilot at this port. He’s one of the best. Well, actually, he is the best. And! He owes me a favor! So he’ll definitely be taking the job.”

“If he’s the best, how can you be sure he’s not currently in a crew?”

Gavin laughed at that, and Trevor’s face turned to one of confusion. “He’s rather picky about the jobs he takes. And, like I said: He owes me.”

He was quiet for a few moments, biting his lip as he thought it over. Gavin hadn’t led him astray before, it was how they’d ended up with Michael and Fiona on the crew, but it all felt a little too good to be true. Coincidences made him uneasy, but what choice did he have? “How soon can I meet him?”

“Tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“I’d like to, yeah. After breakfast. Lindsay, set an alarm for the engineering bay to make sure Gavin wakes up in time.”

“Yes, commander.”

“Hey!”

Trevor grinned as the other pouted. “Anything else, Gav?”

Gavin flipped him off before breaking out into a grin of his own. “Nope! That’s it. I should get back to the engines ‘case they bust again, but I’m happy to be of service. See you tomorrow, Trev.”

“See you tomorrow, Gavin. Get some rest, don’t stay up too late pestering Matt.”

“Will do, won’t do, goodnight!”

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The next morning came soon enough, the crew having breakfast together for a change since Michael had been kind enough to grab some fresh ingredients and cook them a nice meal. It was refreshing to have real food, not just the usual freeze-dried rations or nutrient slurries they normally relied on. And real coffee was always a treat, though no one would dare insult Fiona’s synthesized seaweed coffee replacement for fear of losing the one caffeine source they had between stops.

After the meal, Gavin and Trevor set out as planned. They had a pilot to search for, and the lad wouldn’t stop ranting and raving about how great this guy was supposed to be. Trevor just hoped that he was going to live up to all the hype.

“When you said this guy is picky about the jobs he takes, just how picky did you mean?” He asked as they searched through the first hotspot. There were a few places this mysterious pilot liked to hang out in apparently, and there was no telling which one he’d be at.

Gavin chuckled softly, glancing over at Trevor with a smile until he realized he was being serious. Then, he just shrugged a shoulder. “I dunno. He won’t complain about the ship, if that’s what you mean.”

“Kind of. I just want to make sure he’s not too high class to run the sort of jobs we run.”

“Oh, trust me. He’s not. He is exactly low class enough to run these sort of jobs. But, y’know, like everyone else he wants to make sure the money’s real, and that he’s not gonna end up space dust.”

“Fair enough.” Those were reasonable requests, and ones that were easy enough for Trevor to guarantee. No one on his crew ever ran out of credits, and no one had gotten seriously injured on a job. The ‘on the job’ part was the most important part of that sentence, because injuries did still happen around the ship, despite everyone’s best efforts.

Spots two and three were as equally bust as the first one, but Gavin was just as determined as he’d been at breakfast. Trevor, not so much. It was well past mid-day by the time they reached the fifth spot, some sort of hotel and lounge for people to catch their breath and put their feet up.

The moment they stepped in the door, there was a big beaming grin on Gavin’s face. “Fredo!” He shouted, raising his arms as he cheered. “Took us long enough to find you!”

The man in question was seated casually on a sofa, nose buried in a magazine, though his attention was broken by Gavin’s shouting cutting through the ambiance. “Gavin?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he set his magazine aside and stood. “What the hell are you doing so far out?”

“Ah, well, that’s a bit of a long story,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss the question as he walked up to the man and wrapped an arm around him. He dragged him over to Trevor, still beaming. “Trevor, this is Alfredo. Best pilot on this side of the universe. On both sides, probably, but he doesn’t like to brag. And Alfredo, this is Trevor. He’s the big boss of the Morrigan.”

“I, uh… Yeah, that’s me. I’m the cap- The commander.”

“Cat got your tongue, Commander?” Alfredo asked, smirking as the other’s face tinted red. “C’mon, let’s go somewhere else and chat. There’s way too many people listening in out here.”

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They ended up in Alfredo’s room, crowded around the small table underneath a dim light. However, Trevor didn’t need a lot of light to get a read on someone, and he noticed a lot of things about their potential new pilot in a short time. He didn’t fidget like Gavin did, each movement seemed like it was with purpose, but sometimes he’d flex his fingers and roll his wrists. It told him that he was as experienced as Gavin said, because Jeremy had started to do the same thing after a long time behind the helm. His jacket was well worn, the red still bright in some spots but faded in others, and patched in places where it’d been damaged. That told him that Alfredo wasn’t afraid of a fight, and he was resourceful enough to not let good things go to waste. All good things, in his book.

“So, what’s your offer?” Alfredo asked, breaking the silence once they’d all gotten settled around the table.

“My… Offer?”

“Yeah. If I work for you, what do I get?”

Trevor and Gavin looked at each other for a moment, the latter stunned by the bluntness of the question, but the former was used to unprofessionalism like that. In fact, he preferred it. “Well, for starters, a spot on the ship. You get your own private quarters. However, you really are there as a backup to our ship’s computer in case things get extra… Challenging. They’re good, but there’s limits to every AI.”

Alfredo’s eyebrows raised at that. He’d never been on a ship that had a computer like that on it before. “Sounds like a fancy ship.”

Gavin snorted out a laugh, shaking his head quickly. “Trust me, it’s not. It’s all cobbled together, and the only reason we ended up with Lindsay was because their system was gonna be salvage otherwise.”

“Right…” He cleared his throat, looking back to Trevor. “What about money?”

“We all get an equal cut of the credits. We’re all important on the Morrigan, no one gets more or less than anyone else.” Everyone put in a lot of work to keep the ship running smoothly, sometimes Trevor felt like he wasn’t doing enough in comparison. Every now and then, he’d take less from his own cut to give everyone else a little more. It felt fair. “And we kind of just go wherever when we’re not running jobs.”

Alfredo was quiet for a few moments, thinking things over. He knew he owed Gavin a favor, but at the same time this whole deal seemed too good to be true. No commander was ever this reasonable, this good to his crew. “Can you go wait outside for a minute? I’d like to talk to Gavin,” he said finally, and Trevor was happy to oblige. He didn’t take his eyes off the other man until the door closing forced him too, then they were fixed on Gavin. “This smells like bullshit.”

“I’m telling you Fredy, it’s not. We all get an equal cut, the rooms are pretty damn lush, and the jobs are alright. I don’t do much but patch up the ship after them, but we haven’t had any major hull breaches yet.” He seemed quite proud of himself for that, but deflated when Alfredo didn’t respond in kind.

“Yeah, but what about your last pilot? What happened to them? No one just leaves a gig this good.”

“Ah, well… Actually, some do. There were a few… Disagreements. He wasn’t happy on the ship, and Trevor doesn’t like when people insult the Morrigan, or Lindsay,” he explained, choosing his words carefully. He wasn’t sure either of the men involved would be happy if the story started to get spread. “But it’s a good ship, a good crew, and Trevor’s a good man. Plus, you owe me.”

“I know, and that’s the worst part!” He groaned, slumping forward with his face in his hands. “I hate owing you, you always make people pay you back in the worst possible ways!”

“Oi! I’m getting you a job!”

“Yeah, and it all sounds shady as shit! I know you’re smugglers, but damn. Trevor’s cold.”

Gavin just chuckled softly, because he couldn’t exactly disagree with him. The commander had his moments, but didn’t everyone? “Look, Fredo. You need this, and we need you. So just… Take the job, would you?”

Alfredo chewed the inside his lip as he thought it over, letting out a long sigh after a minute. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Gavin said with a grin, clapping Alfredo on the shoulder before yelling for Trevor to come back inside.

He genuinely couldn’t guess what they had been talking about in there, but judging by the look on Gavin’s face it was something good. “You’ve decided, then?” He asked Alfredo as he took his seat again.

“He has! He said that he’d joi-“

“-Gavin, dude. Let me talk,” he said, swatting at the other man to get him to shut up. “I’ll join your crew, on one condition…” He trailed off, wanting to gauge the other’s response before he continued.

“And that is?” Trevor asked, arching an eyebrow and waiting for him to go on.

“I have some cargo I need to get off this asteroid. It’ll be a win/win for the both of us: You get to see how good I fly, I get this job off my back, and you, me, and your crew get to split the money.”

It’d be a good reason to get out of the spaceport faster too. Trevor wasn’t planning on leaving until they had a job anyway and now one had fallen right into their laps with a new pilot in hand. “Sounds like a deal to me,” he said, reaching a hand out for Alfredo to shake and smiling across the table at him. It was a genuine smile, the facade of the stern negotiator falling away.

Alfredo grinned right back at him, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. “Hell yes.”

“We can get into the details of the job back on the ship, but I wanna introduce you to your new crew first.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love them, Fredo. They’re all brilliant.”

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The Morrigan welcomed its commander back onto the ship with a cheerful musical tone, the doors sliding open as he approached with Gavin and Alfredo in tow.

“Oh, now who’s this?” Lindsay asked, curious about the new arrival. If they were being honest, they hadn’t expected Gavin to be telling the truth about knowing a pilot, or for Trevor to be convincing enough to get him to join. Their expectations weren’t pessimistic, just realistic. They knew their crew.

“Lindsay! Hey there, perfect timing,” Trevor said with a grin as Gavin scurried off to go gather the rest of the crew. “This is Alfredo, he’s gonna be our new pilot! And Alfredo, this is Lindsay, our ship's computer, and your co-pilot. If you have any questions about the ship, they’ll be the one to ask.”

“That’s right!” They chirped, “Not to brag or anything, but I know more about this ship than anyone, except maybe Gavin. We’re about equal, but don’t tell him I said that!”

Alfredo chuckled, amused by just how much personality this supposed AI had. “Are you sure there’s not a person on the other side of those comms, commander?”

Trevor simply shook his head. “Nope, just a Lindsay!” He answered, motioning for Alfredo to follow him as he led him further into the ship. Doors opened and shut behind them automatically as they went, which meant that Lindsay was keeping a close eye on them. They’d really taken Jeremy’s comments about the ship to heart, and they had to make sure the new guy wasn’t going to say the same thing.

“No offense, but… How does a ship like this afford a computer like that? I know how much these jobs make, and how much those things cost, and… The math just isn’t adding up.”

The speakers beeped to life with a gentle tone, and Lindsay spoke up for themselves. “I was a rejected version of an even more advanced system, but because of how advanced I still was, they couldn’t just shut me down and wipe out all my data. So, they put me up for sale instead.”

“We got a pretty good deal on them, actually. No one really wants a buggy AI, too much of a risk or whatever, but for a smuggling crew who doesn’t care about perfection, they’re perfect.” The bugs that the programmers had rejected Lindsay for were hardly even bugs in Trevor’s eyes, they were just things that made them too hard to control. There was no speech filter, no way to control them or make them do whatever you wanted, which is why they’d been rejected. You had to treat them like a person, and their programmers had hated that.

Alfredo was genuinely impressed by the state of the ship, and how smoothly things seemed to run on the surface. Lindsay gave him a quick brief on the engine the ship was powered by and some tips for when he was at the controls to help work around some of its quirks. By the time their spiel was done, they’d reached the bridge where everyone had been gathered so they could get introductions out of the way all at once instead of hunting people down one by one.

The Morrigan was no small ship, and its crew matched it. It was, by far, the largest smuggling ship that Alfredo had ever stepped foot in. Probably the happiest as well. Every role had a person to fill it, and none of them seemed to have many complaints either.

The first person to speak up and introduce herself was Jack, the ship’s navigations officer. She worked with Lindsay to chart their courses, keeping in mind everything that they’d have to avoid ranging from rogue space debris to the ever annoying authorities. The three of them would be working very closely together, so Alfredo was glad that she spoke up first.

Michael and Fiona introduced themselves next, the former being the ship’s medical officer and physician while the latter was a scientist. She had her own experiments to run, but she also spent a lot of time helping Michael keep everyone on board the ship healthy. It was a much more difficult task than one would expect, apparently. Alfredo asked Fiona what she was doing on the ship, but she refused to say anything more than “nunya business,” and Trevor insisted that it was better if he didn’t know, so he dropped the subject.

The communications officer introduced himself after that. Matt was more quiet and reserved than everyone else seemed to be, but he still seemed quite content in his role. It seemed like there wasn’t much to do - there were no aliens trying to make contact, or even that many other ships for that matter - so he spent a lot of his time misusing the comms to catch up on radio shows from Earth or the other space outposts.

“Alright! Well, feel free to hang out with everyone for a bit,” Trevor said, noticeably relieved that everyone seemed to like Alfredo, and vice-versa. It was a good first step. Gavin was usually a pretty good judge of character, but one could never be too careful.

“You’re not gonna stick around?” Alfredo asked, frowning a little. “You can’t just leave me alone with these guys.” That comment was hushed, he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Sure I can. I’ve got some work to do, and besides, they don’t bite.” He looked pointedly at Michael. “Usually.” Alfredo whirled around to follow Trevor’s gaze, eyes going wide as Michael snarled at him. The pair broke out into laughter, making Alfredo huff in displeasure.

“That’s not funny, man.”

“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t resist. Just… Relax.” He put his hands on the other’s shoulders, giving him a little shake. “Everyone here is great, they’re the nicest people on this side of the galaxy. You’re gonna have to get to know them eventually, so you might as well start now. I got some work I gotta do to get us loaded up, but come up to my quarters later. We need to hammer out the details of that job so we can get outta here soon.”

Alfredo nodded slowly, mumbling a confirmation and watching as Trevor turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Michael and Gavin slammed a hand down onto each of his shoulders, snapping him out of his trance as they whirled him around.

“C’mon, Alfredo! We’ve still got some booze leftover from Jeremy’s going away party,” Michael told him with a wicked grin, “Jack makes the best drinks, you gotta try one.”

“I dunno... I just joined, is that really smart?”

“Is what smart?”

“Drinking.”

“Nah,” Gavin scoffed, shaking his head quickly. “Drinking’s always smart, trust me.”

Alfredo rolled his eyes. He knew firsthand that trusting Gavin was a bad idea when it came to alcohol, but on the other hand… Maybe it’d be a good way to get more comfortable around everyone. He was still a little wary, and a little overwhelmed by the sheer size of the crew, some help feeling more at ease was definitely welcome. It was called liquid courage for a reason.

And after a few drinks, he certainly felt more at ease. At the same time, it was weird being accepted so quickly. Sometimes he was stuck on his own, even when he was on a crew. Space had a tendency to be a very lonely and isolating place, it seemed like these people were well aware of the fact, and worked hard to make sure no one fell victim to its clutches. Fiona saw him standing off to the side, trying to edge away from all the excitement, and dragged him right into it. Jack gave him drinks when she spotted an empty cup, alternating between alcoholic and not to make sure he didn’t end up too far gone. And Michael and Gavin were something else entirely, wasting no time in filling him in on the latest ship gossip and ongoing pranks. Ultimately, he decided that he’d made a good choice in trusting Gavin and joining the Morrigan.

When the festivities died down and everyone began to clean up and retreat to their quarters, Alfredo took it as his sign to go and find Trevor and discuss the job with him. Finding his quarters was easy enough, but he hesitated outside.

“He already knows you’re there, you know,” Lindsay piped up, giggling when they saw Alfredo jump and search around for the source of their voice. It was all around them, coming through every speaker in that part of the hall. “He’s got a video feed that shows the hall outside of his door. Put it in after Gavin pranked him a few too many times,” they added, this time only speaking from the nearest speaker.

“Yeah, Gavin’s always been one for pranks.” He stepped closer to the door, but still didn’t go in.

They hummed softly, some sensors whirring in a far off room of the Morrigan. “Why are you hesitating?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because!” Alfredo gestured in exasperation, activating the door’s motion sensor. He jumped again as it slid open, staring through it and making eye contact with Trevor, who was seated at his desk and smiling knowingly.

“Thank you, Lindsay.”

“Any time, commander! That trick never fails.”

Alfredo looked at Trevor with wide eyes, stammering out an excuse that was immediately waved off. “Just come on in, there’s no use putting it off,” he told him. “The sooner we get things sorted, the sooner we can get out of the port.”

“Why the rush?” He asked as he stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind him with a loud thunk. “It’s pretty nice, as far as spaceports go.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a disgruntled former pilot hanging around here now, and I really don’t want him deciding that he wants to get revenge.”

“Fair enough.” Alfredo sat down in the chair across from Trevor, watching him from across the desk. When the other didn’t speak right away, he took it as an opportunity to do so instead. “So, the job. It’s several crates of cargo, will you have enough space in the hold for all of that?”

“How many is several, exactly?”

“About ten, all pretty decently sized. A yard or two each way, at least.”

Trevor chuckled, nodding as he made a note. “Oh yeah, we’ll have plenty of room. I’ve got some supplies getting loaded up tomorrow, if you talk to a man named Geoff at the mercantile he’ll be sure to slip ‘em in, make sure no one suspects anything.”

Alfredo raised his eyebrows, impressed. “That’s it? No questions about the cargo?”

Trevor let out a long sigh at that, lifting his eyes from his notebook to look at him. “Usually, I don’t want to know. It’s not my business to know. I’m not paid to know,” he explained, waiting until the other nodded in understanding to carry on. “But, since you brought it up, I feel like I should ask… Is it alive?”

“Uh… Yeah, it is.”

“Is it people? Cause I don’t do that shit.”

“What? No. No! It’s… Well, it’s-“

“Is it gonna break out of the crates and kill us in our sleep?”

Alfredo didn’t have an immediate answer to that one. Trevor didn’t find that comforting.

“Probably not?”

They stared at each other for a few moments, gauging each other’s reactions until Trevor broke the silence. “Works for me! Like I said, talk to Geoff at the mercantile, let him know where you keep everything, he’ll get it all worked out.” He extended his hand, offering it to Alfredo for him to shake. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Alfredo.”

“Likewise,” the other man said, reaching out and giving Trevor’s hand a firm shake. “The Morrigan seems like a real nice ship, I can’t wait to see how they fly.”

With that, Alfredo took his leave, but Trevor kept his eyes on the door long after he walked out.

The comms beeped to life, and Lindsay spoke from a speaker on Trevor’s desk. “I like him already.”

“Yeah, I do too,” he said whimsically before shaking his head to clear the thoughts from his mind and pointing a finger at the speaker. “I never said that. You didn’t hear that.”

“Of course, Commander. I heard nothing.”

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

The cargo was loaded up without issue the following day. All Alfredo had to do was give the boxes a small mark once they were in the hold, that way they’d know what was the smuggled cargo, but that was an easy enough task. They spent a few more hours at the port, letting everyone do a small tour around for some shopping and giving Michael a chance to say some goodbyes to Jeremy before they set out.

“Alright, let’s see how this baby flies,” Alfredo said with a grin once he was in the pilot’s seat, cracking his knuckles. This was the one place where he truly felt confident and in his element, and it was so good to be back where he belonged. “Jack, we got a course set?”

“Yup, Lindsay’s got all the info, and there should be a copy of it there on your terminal,” Jack said from her station, turning in her seat to look at Alfredo and give him a thumbs up. She grinned as she got one in return.

“Sweet. Lindsay, you ready to take off?”

A few melodic beeps came through the speakers as they checked in with Gavin to make sure the engines were all in working order, then they spoke. “I am! Gavin’s on standby in case anything goes wrong, too.”

“Perfect, start the launch sequence for me, please?”

“Ooh, how polite! I like this one,” they hummed, and Jack laughed softly from her station at the way Alfredo’s cheeks tinged pink. “Sure thing, Fredo. One launch sequence, coming right up!”

The Morrigan shook and creaked as the engines fired up, groaning with effort as the sound roared through the engineering bay and echoed around the spaceport. It was a big ship that required a lot of power to get going, even more so to break away from the gravitational field surrounding the port, and every time they took the crew was terrified that it would come apart at the seams under the pressure. But, like it did every time before, it pulled through, and it wasn’t long until they were up in the atmosphere and out into space.

“Wow,” Alfredo breathed, slumping back in his chair once things had stabilized. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. “Is it always like that?”

Trevor chuckled from behind him, smiling and nodding. “Yeah, pretty much.” He walked up and patted Alfredo on the shoulder, making eye contact with him in the window’s reflection before looking past it at the stars. “Get used to it, buddy.” The clanking of the ship he’d long since learned to tune out, but seeing the stars? It never got old to him. They were just as beautiful every time he saw them, and it was easy to get lost looking at them as they went by.

“Guess I’m gonna have to.” It was clear that Trevor was lost in thought, so Alfredo just nudged his hand from his shoulder and leaned to look around him at Jack. “How we lookin’? Smooth sailing?”

“Smooth sailing. No asteroids, no authorities, no other ships if we’re lucky. I’ll let you know if that changes, though. It’ll take us a while to get to our next stop, few days at the most.”

“Can this thing handle lightspeed?”

Jack and Lindsay both broke out into laughter, and even Trevor snapped out of his trance to join in.

“Absolutely not,” Lindsay told him, laughing brightly. They took great pride in the Morrigan, but even they knew its limits. “We’ve been trying to get our hands on a new warp drive for a while now, but no such luck. We’re stuck inside this solar system for the time being, unfortunately.”

“Put my cut from the job towards one, then.” Trevor’s eyebrows shot up, and he met Alfredo’s eyes through the reflection once more. “I’m serious. The further you can travel, the better jobs you can get.” And even for short distances, Alfredo wasn’t really one for travelling at a space snail’s pace. “The better jobs you get, the more money you make.”

Trevor couldn’t disagree with that logic, so he simply just nodded in approval. “I’ll start putting my cut towards one too, then.”

“Seriously?” Jack piped up, “like Gavin doesn’t have enough to fix around here?”

The commander turned towards her, arching an eyebrow. “Everyone’s free to spend their cut on whatever they like, and that’s how Alfredo and I are choosing to use ours. Do I say anything when you spend it on baseball cards just cause Geoff and Gav talked about ‘em?”

“No…”

“No, I don’t. So, you mind your business, and I’ll mind mine.” Trevor could take a ribbing as good as the rest of the ship’s crew, but there were some things he just wouldn’t take. The ship was still a very sore subject for him. Jack let out a long sigh but nodded, knowing that there was no use in pushing the matter further. “So, Alfredo. You don’t have to stay here all the time, Lindsay’ll put an alarm out if there’s any immediate threats you’re needed for. I don’t expect you to be sitting here all day, every day. That’d just be mean.”

Alfredo nodded in understanding, spinning around in the chair to get a look at Trevor. “I’ll probably hang out here most of the day, though. Nice view, y’know? Plus I wouldn’t want Lindsay and Jack to get bored,” he joked, cracking a smile.

“Good plan.” Trevor nodded in approval before he spun around to leave, though he lingered just out of sight. Alfredo was agreeable, almost too agreeable. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the guy, or that he cared if he was a troublemaker, but it was certainly an oddity to have a crewmember that actually wanted to do their job. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch.

Jack scoffed from her seat once she thought Trevor was gone, glancing over at Alfredo from her terminal. “You let him walk all over you, dude.”

“He’s the boss, I’m gonna listen to him,” he responded simply, looking to her for barely a second before his eyes were back on the stars.

“Yeah, but you can push back a little, he’s not gonna bite your head off for it.”

“He gets enough of that from the rest of you assholes.”

“Whoa, okay. Just trying to help.”

Alfredo turned in his chair then, meeting Jack’s eyes. “I don’t need your help. Did you hear what Trevor said? ‘You mind your business, I’ll mind mine?’ That goes for me too.” He’d put up with enough bullshit from the other crews he’d been a part of and jobs he’d taken, and he wasn’t going to let this be like the rest of them. He knew the difference between letting himself get pushed over and keeping his head below the fenceline so he didn’t end up losing it.

They stared each other down for a few long moments, sizing each other up. Jack realized then that she’d misjudged Alfredo. He wasn’t some rookie pilot pulled off the streets, he was the real deal, and he wasn’t going to take any shit from anyone. On the other hand, Alfredo realized that he’d judged Jack correctly, and he didn’t like antagonists much. He knew he’d warm up to her eventually, he had to if he didn’t want this whole thing to fall through, but that was an awfully bad start.

Lindsay couldn’t stand the tension that was building in the room, making the air so thick that the vent system was having a hard time sucking it up for purification. So they did the only thing they could to break it: Sound a station-wide alarm. Trevor had to come out of his hiding spot then, running up to the main console to check the system.

“Lindsay, what the hell’s going on?!” He asked, having to shout over the blaring alarm.

“I don’t know, the alarm just started going off!” They shouted back, sounding panicked, although it was all an act. They pretended to flounder for a moment, making sure that there was enough time for the tension to fade entirely and that Alfredo and Jack had forgotten about their spat before they killed the alarm. “There! All sorted, I think it was just a crossed wire or something. Crazy, huh?” They could tell that Trevor didn’t quite believe them, but at least Jack and Alfredo had gotten back to work. “Maybe you should stick around for a bit, commander. Just to make sure nothing like that happens again.”

“Hm.” He hummed as he took a seat in the commander’s chair, kicking his feet up onto the console in front of him. There was no way to tell what they were playing at, but keeping an eye on the new recruit wasn’t exactly a bad idea, especially if Jack was going to be giving him trouble. “I think you’re right, Lindsay. Can’t be having any trouble on the bridge now, can we? Good call.”

“No commander, we can’t. And thank you.”

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

Things were quiet for a few days. Too quiet. There were the usual pranks and fights and other nonsense, but there were no large scale problems. Any commander would be happy about that and proud of their crew for avoiding disaster, but not Trevor. On the Morrigan, that meant there was a ticking time bomb hidden somewhere on the ship, and it was only a matter of time until it blew. He allowed himself to sleep, but only for a few hours at a time, and when he was awake he was on constant patrol. The previous longest record for going without a major incident was about three days, and it was now encroaching on a week. He wasn’t counting the detour they’d had to make to avoid some random authorities patrolling the system as a major incident, just a minor setback, so they were still due for something.

When it hit a week since their last incident, he was almost convinced that he could relax, that he could let his guard down and accept that there was nothing waiting just around the bend for him. Almost. Barely a second after that thought crossed his mind, he heard footsteps quickly approaching from behind him.

“Hey, Trevor-boy!” Gavin called out for him, making him spin on his heels. “So, got a bit of a problem for you.” It was weird seeing someone relieved to learn there was a problem, but Trevor certainly looked that way. “There’s a lot of uh… Banging, coming from the storage deck.”

“Have you gone down there to check it out?” He asked, already knowing the answer before he even asked.

“Absolutely not! Are you insane? Michael won’t go either, before you ask, you’re gonna have to go down there and look,” he informed him, and Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hey, don’t give me that! We don’t know what Alfredo brought on board, and I’m not trying to get eaten.”

“He promised me it wouldn’t kill us in our sleep.”

“That doesn’t mean it won’t kill us when we’re awake, though.”

Trevor sucked in a breath, holding it for a moment as he thought his next words over carefully. “Lindsay?” He called, his attention no longer on Gavin as he began to walk

The speaker system chimed to life, and Lindsay greeted the two of them cheerfully. “Yes, commander?”

“Where’s Alfredo?”

There was a beat of silence as they checked all of their ocular systems. “He’s in the bridge, why?”

“Have him meet me down by the storage bay, would you? And have Michael bring down a few weapons, I don’t know what we’re dealing with. Can you tell if anything’s started moving down there?”

“There is a lot of movement down there, but I think whatever it is, it’s still in the crates.” The comms system buzzed as they went quiet, searching the cargo bay to make sure they weren’t sending their crew down into certain death. “Yeah, no, it’s definitely still contained.” There was a beat of silence before they whispered, “for now.”

That brought some relief, at least. Still, he didn’t want to go in there with nothing, just in case. At least they managed to hit a new record. He’d have to mark it on his calendar when he got back up to his quarters.

He let Gavin get back to work somewhere along the way down to the bottom of the ship, waiting outside the door to the hold and tapping his foot as he waited for Alfredo and Michael to join him. As he opened his mouth to ask Lindsay to let them know he was waiting, he heard the telltale sound of yelling that signalled Michael’s approach. Alfredo was much quieter, but he had no doubt that he was in tow.

Still, he was impatient. Trevor always was when it came to the safety of his crew. If there was anything that had the potential to harm them, he wanted it dealt with as quickly and efficiently as possible. There was no room for wasting time. He already had his hand out as Michael rounded the corner, and he didn’t lower it until he felt the weight of a gun settled in it.

“Gave you your usual rifle, boss. Figured you’d want something reliable,” he explained, watching as Trevor inspected the rifle to make sure it was up to his standards. “Gave Fredo the harpoon gun, figured it might be handy and he said he’s used one of those before. Plus pistols for the both of you. Try not to miss your shots, though. Gavin’ll be pissed if he has to do a hull repair.”

“Thank you, Michael. We’ll take it from here, but…” He trailed off, noticing that Michael himself was also armed with a variety of weapons. “Standby out here, just in case. Lindsay’ll let you know if we run into trouble.” They nodded at each other in understanding, the doors to the cargo bay sliding open in front of them. “Let’s go.”

Alfredo could only give a tiny nod himself, following behind the commander as they stepped into the hold. It was bright, the lights at full blast to make sure there weren’t any shadows to hide in. But that wasn’t enough to stop him from being nervous. His hands didn’t shake, but he was chewing on his bottom lip so much that it was starting to bleed, and every little noise made him raise the harpoon gun and aim.

“You wanna tell me what’s in those crates?” Trevor asked as they worked their way towards the center of the hold, checking every nook and cranny as Lindsay kept them updated on any movement around them that was out of the ordinary. “I was fine with not knowing before, but-“ He was cut off by the sound of wood scraping against metal, dull thuds as whatever was inside of them grew restless. “But because of things like that, I can’t let things slide anymore.”

The other man hesitated, continuing to bite at his lip, but Trevor’s gaze was piercing and it made his blood run cold against his tongue. Nothing got past the commander, even the smallest of lies. “Plants. It’s plants.”

“Plants don’t move like that,” Trevor pointed out, and Alfredo couldn’t exactly refute his claim. “Now, what the hell is actually in these crates?”

“I’m being serious. It’s plants.” A beat of silence, more piercing stares, before he continued. “Mutant plants that were definitely overfed a ton of fertilizer and who only knows what else, but… Yeah. Plants.”

“Mutant… Plants?” The words fell slowly off of Trevor’s tongue, processing what they meant at the same time they left his mouth. “Just how mutant, exactly?”

“Depends. Some of ‘em are still pretty plant-like, but… Others are getting pretty close to Audrey II territory.”

“As much as I appreciate the comparison, I’d appreciate a little more seriousness even more.” Alfredo murmured an apology, but Trevor’s silence made it clear that the time for talking was over.

After a few more paces they reached the crates, specially marked to make it stand out from all of the other similar crates, but only to the trained eye. Sure enough, there was some banging coming from inside the crate, as well as some angry hissing, but it wasn’t exactly loud enough to be heard from the engineering deck, especially not over the roar of the engines either. If Gavin was able to hear it, it had to be something much bigger, much louder.

They began to inspect the crates one by one, making sure each one was intact and tightening whatever screws had started to get knocked loose by the thrashing within. All the noise and movement had Trevor on edge, his heart racing and normally steady hands shaking each time he had to touch one of the boxes.

“That’s all of them. Nine crates, all secure.”

Alfredo frowned, eyebrows furrowed together as his eyes flicked from crate to crate. “There should be ten here.” They both counted, and re-counted, and counted one last time for good measure. Sure enough, there were only nine crates with no sign of a tenth.

“Lindsay, double-check the manifest for me?” They did, which only confirmed that there was a crate missing. Trevor’s face mirrored the pilot’s then, concern etched deep into their features. “Alfredo? Any explanations?”

“Alright, this isn’t my fault.”

“I’m not saying it is, but I would still like an explanation. Or at least some way to make sense of… This.”

Alfredo shifted, uncomfortable under Trevor’s gaze. “Well… Best guess is that… Either Geoff miscounted or left one off the ship, or-“

“-Which is pretty likely-“

“-Or one of the plants escaped. Which is also pretty likely. Maybe even more likely.”

“Well. Shit.” They both hoisted up their weapons simultaneously, knowing that they couldn’t afford to get caught off guard by anything. “Lindsay, lock down the cargo bay! Nothing gets in or out of here, not even the two of us. If anything starts moving other than us or those crates, you tell us immediately, got it?”

“Sure thing, commander. There’s just… One teensy-tiny problem.”

Trevor groaned loudly, looking up at the speaker. “And that is what, exactly?”

“Well, you see… There’s so much movement in those crates that… I kinda can’t see any movement anywhere else in the ship, and especially not in the cargo bay. It throws my whole system off, I can’t see anything.”

He whirled around to look at Alfredo upon hearing that, rifle still raised, and for a second he thought that the commander was going to shoot him right where he stood. The thought crossed Trevor’s mind, he wasn’t going to lie about that, but he decided that it would be unwise. He needed someone to watch his back, even if that someone was the one who got him into this mess. Turning back around and marching on, he let out a very slow, very shaky breath as he tried to control his anger.

“Alfredo?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You and I are going to stay in here and keep watch on the rest of these crates to make sure no more of these…” He trailed off, glaring back at the crates before his gaze was back on Alfredo. “Things escape before we reach our destination. Michael and Jack are going to be patrolling the rest of the ship to keep everyone else safe. I don’t know what the hell these things are capable of, and I’m assuming you don’t either, so we need to be on high alert. Got it?”

Alfredo nodded quickly. “Yes sir.”

“Good. Now… Lindsay, how far away are we?”

“We’re about a day out. I’ll try and push the engines so we can get there faster but-”

“Don’t bother, I’d rather not blow the ship. Alfredo and I are just going to have to find some way to keep ourselves occupied.”

A day stuck in the cargo hold with the commander, who was very armed and very angry, really wasn’t ideal for Alfredo, but he acknowledged that there were worse punishments he could be given. He was just glad that he’d already opted to put his cut towards the ship, because there was no way he’d be given all of it after this.

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

“Got any sevens?”

“No, go fish. Got any threes?”

“Nope, go fishin’! Got any… Got any aces?”

There was a long moment of silence, and then: “This would be easier with cards. I don’t remember what I have or don’t have anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

It had been several hours since the start of the cargo bay lockdown, and they were already running out of things to do. They’d searched the hold over and over until they found scrapes in the floor that lead to a splintered crate at the far end, but nothing that told them where the plant monster had run off to. Then, they reinforced all the remaining crates, doing what they could to make sure nothing else would try to escape and end up succeeding in their attempt. After that, they’d sort of run out of things to do to keep busy. “Imaginary Go Fish” was only entertaining the first time (though Trevor would disagree), and Lindsay had shut off all their sensors in the hold in an attempt to get everything else back in working order so they could help Michael and Jack. Not only were they cut off from the rest of the crew, but they were alone for the next twenty or so hours.

“At least we’re down here with the supplies so we don’t starve,” Alfredo muttered, trying to find any possible brightside to the situation.

Trevor hummed in agreement, standing up and shaking out his arms. “Yeah, at least we won’t starve,” he agreed, the slightest hint of mockery in his tone. He had yet to outright voice his displeasure, but he was sure Alfredo could put the pieces together. After stretching, he checked his watch. “Time for another walk around. You stay put.”

Slumping against a crate, Alfredo nodded, making sure he had his own weapon in hand as Trevor readied his own and walked off. They did this every half hour or so. Trevor made him do the first few, but he must’ve gotten tired of sitting around because it was the first time he’d offered to go.

His footsteps echoed off the thick metal walls of the hold, and Alfredo listened intently to them. The only other sounds were the dull thuds of the contained plant monsters and the usual creaks and groans of the Morrigan itself, but those were easy to tune out once they droned on long enough. When the footsteps stopped, it was like the hold went completely silent.

He was immediately on edge, standing up quickly and hoisting the harpoon gun up as he went. “Trevor?” he called, taking a few hesitant steps forward. When there wasn’t an immediate response, he took a few more, heading towards where he’d last heard the other’s footsteps come from.

“I’m fine,” Trevor called back after a minute, “Just stay there, everything’s fine!”

“You don’t sound too sure,” was the response he got, and he just let out a huff.

It was true, he wasn’t too sure, because in a corner Alfredo had surely overlooked on his previous patrols, the plant had taken over. Its thorny vines stretched across the floors and up the walls, writhing and squirming as it supported the weight of what looked like a giant flower bud but… Flowers weren’t supposed to have teeth. That was the one thing that had been consistent across the planets he’d been to. Plants didn’t have teeth. “I’m not,” he muttered to himself, wondering why the hell he’d agreed to take this job in the first place. You needed a pilot, he reminded himself as he took slow, careful steps back in an effort not to startle the thing. But I don’t think we needed one this badly.

“What’s going on? I’m coming over there.”

Trevor turned around slowly, carefully, just in time to see Alfredo running up. “No, don’t!” he shouted, putting a hand up to stop him, but something stopped him instead.

A vine wrapped itself tight around his arm, the thorns digging in deep and latching on. It had been resting peacefully before, able to slumber without being disturbed by the occasional movement and noise from the two men, but Trevor’s sudden shouting had woken it up. And it was not pleased.

He cried out in pain, instinctively trying to pull his arm free, but it only made the vine hold on even tighter. It reminded him of those finger traps Jeremy had brought on board one time: the more he pulled, the more it constricted his arm. But unlike those finger traps, it had no intentions of letting go once Trevor relaxed.

Alfredo stood there in shock, eyes wide and frozen in place until the commander barked out an order. He didn’t even register the words, just that he needed to move, and he needed to move now. Gavin was going to kill him for the damage later, but there was no time to aim the harpoon gun properly before he was pulling the trigger. Though it missed the bud by a few feet, the harpoon did manage to sever a few of its tendrils. The plant monster let out an ear-piercing shriek, untangling itself from Trevor in order to start scaling the wall and worming its way into an air vent. The metal of the grate covering it bent and snapped from the force, and the ends of several vines hung out through the remaining slats.

“Nice work,” Trevor managed through gritted teeth, trying to pretend like his arm wasn’t bleeding as badly as it was and didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did. Alfredo saw through the act in less than a second, retrieving the harpoon before dropping the gun and approaching Trevor.

“That looks… Bad. I should’ve given you my jacket,” he muttered, pushing his sleeve up to get a better look at the damage. Bruises were already starting to form where the vine itself had been, and there were several grisly cuts from the thorns, all bleeding pretty badly. “Fuck… Lindsay! We need Michael down here, now!”

Trevor pushed Alfredo’s hands off him before sinking to his knees and gripping his arm, trying to cover at least one of the cuts in an effort to stop the flow of blood. Whatever wasn’t soaked up by his shirt dripped down to the floor, creating a pretty sizable puddle beneath him that began to soak into the knees of his pants as well. “They can’t hear you… They shut down all their sensors for this room, remember?” There were a lot of flaws in their plan, he saw that now. But at least he knew that the beast was for sure in the cargo bay, not that there was anything that could be done about that right then. “There’s… There may be some emergency supplies by the door, Michael makes sure there’s some in every room.” Accidents happened everywhere, and the lad hated having to run all the way back to the medbay for a bandage every time someone got hurt.

Once Alfredo had retrieved the medkit, he helped Trevor to his feet and guided him back to their makeshift campsite. The further they were from that vent, the better off they were, though the plant monster would easily be able to follow the trail of blood Trevor left behind right to them. They sat down together there, Trevor still clutching his arm as he leaned back against the crates with a soft groan. He was feeling a bit woozy,

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna bandage this up for now, hopefully that stops the bleeding, or at least slows it,” Alfredo murmured, popping the kit open and breathing out an audible sigh of relief when he saw that it was fully stocked. “Thank the stars,” he breathed, almost smiling as he grabbed a roll of gauze and began to wrap up Trevor’s arm. He was silent as he worked, faltering when the other spoke up.

“Can we please talk?” he asked softly, eyes meeting Alfredo’s when he looked up. “I’d really like something else to focus on other than the pain.”

“I thought you were mad at me?”

“I was… I am, but… I’d still rather talk than sit in silence.”

“Oh.” He continued to wrap his arm, securing it with some tape once he was done. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Anything. Something. I really don’t care.” He held his arm to his chest, cradling it in an effort to soothe the pain.

“Well, how’d you become in charge of your own ship?” Alfredo asked, settling in beside him and leaning against the crate as he began to rummage through the medkit.

Trevor chuckled quietly, turning his head to look over at the other. “Now that is a very long story, but… I guess we’ve got the time.” He checked his watch, taking a deep breath. “I worked on a lot of ships that treated their crews like shit. Treated their ships like shit too, honestly. I bailed on one before my contract was up once I had enough credits saved up, hid at one of the starports until they stopped searching for me, and then… I bought a ship of my own. It was small at first, real small. Couldn’t do much with it, couldn’t really go anywhere with it either, but I managed to swing a few small jobs.” He stared off into the distance as he spoke, looking out the small port windows at the stars outside the ship. It had been a while since he’d thought about any of this, even longer since he’d talked about it, but there was a fond smile as he did. “I don’t miss any of the bullshit at the start.”

Alfredo listened intently, a small stack of things from the kit forming in front of him. More gauze, disinfectant, rags, a suture and thread. He wasn’t really thrilled about the prospect of stitching up Trevor, but those wounds were so deep that something more needed to be done. “I don’t think anyone here misses the bullshit at the start. I sure had my fair share.”

“How did you get started, then?”

“I used to be a pilot back on Earth. I was good at my job, really good, so they bumped me up to piloting shuttles between the colonies. After a while, I guess I got sick of seeing the same places over and over again,” he explained, letting out a soft ‘a ha!’ as he pulled a bottle of painkillers from the bottom of the kit. “Lotta ships need good pilots, and they paid better than the other gig, so I jumped ship, so to speak.” Shaking out a few pills, he passed them to Trevor who swallowed them down dry with a grimace. Anything to help the pain. “Never really wanted to own my ship, seemed like too much work, but… I was cool with piloting them. I get paid to see space, how cool is that?”

“It is a lot of work,” he agreed, still trying to get the pills down. “Sometimes, it’s too much work. But at the end of the day, it’s all worth it.”

Alfredo was quiet for a few long moments, the silence hanging heavy between them. “Will this be worth it?”

“Yes.” Trevor didn’t need to think about his answer as much as Alfredo had needed to think about his question. “Absolutely. You seem surprised.”

“But you got hurt. That thing could have killed you!”

“But it’s still in the cargo bay, and it didn’t hurt anyone in my crew. Better me than anyone else.” His crew was his family, and if he had to get hurt to keep them safe, so be it. It was a small price he was willing to pay.

Alfredo scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t get you.”

“What?”

“No commander gives this much of a shit about their crew.” No captain gave their crew an equal cut, they always took more for themselves. No captain would sacrifice themself for their crew, they always forced their crew to do the sacrificing for them. No captain would adopt a broken AI like one would a stray cat. It just didn’t happen. “Not a single one. I’ve been trying to figure out your game from the start, and I just… I can’t.” The laughing only added to his confusion.

“I know. No other commander does, but I do. And you’re gonna have to get used to it, Alfredo. All those assholes on the other side of the door are my family, and I’d sooner die for them than let anything bad happen to them,” he stated firmly, making sure the other was looking at him and meeting his eyes as he spoke. “There’s no game, no ulterior motive. You’re part of that family now too, so you’re just gonna have to learn to live with it.”

It had been a long time since Alfredo had been a part of any family, since anyone had accepted him so completely so quickly. While he didn’t fully trust Trevor just yet, he trusted him more than he had a few minutes ago. “Alright. I’ll learn to live with it.”

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

Alfredo was silent as he worked to stitch up Trevor’s arm, hands steady as he did so. He’d spent some time cleaning up the now dried blood, disinfecting the wounds and getting a better look at them. Some of the cuts were only surface wounds, already scabbed over and barely noticeable, but others were pretty gruesome. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to freak Trevor out, but he was pretty sure that he could see bone in a few of them. “Michael’s gonna have to redo these, but they’ll hold for now,” he murmured, tying off the last one and bandaging him up again before things got too bloody again.

“How bad am I, doc? Am I gonna make it?” Trevor asked, really glad that he’d taken some more painkillers because he couldn’t imagine all of those stitches would feel great in a few minutes.

“Yeah,” Alfredo said with a soft smile, taping down the end of the gauze. “You’ll make it.” I hope.

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

As hour six rolled around, the comms hissed with static and a few musical beeps, surprising Alfredo and making him lift his head. He and Trevor had decided that sleeping was a pretty good way to kill time, so the commander had ended up fast asleep and slumped with his head on Alfredo’s shoulder. The other man hadn’t been so lucky, wide awake and checking every few minutes to make sure that he hadn’t gone and died on him.

“Lindsay?” he asked softly, hoping they’d see the situation and match his tone.

“Alfredo! What the hell happened?” They could see everything the second their cameras were back online: The broken vent grate, the vines coming out of the grate, the severed tendrils on the floor, the puddle and trail of brown dried blood leading to Alfredo and a very injured Trevor. “Is he… He’s not dead, is he?”

“No, he’s alive. We found the plant, and it… It got him good,” he explained, tipping his head forward to make sure Trevor was still asleep. “I patched him up, but… He’s gonna need a lot more than some stitches.”

“I’ll get Michael to come down-”

“No,” he stated, and Lindsay let out a soft scoff of indignation. “No one else comes down here. If you lift the lockdown, that thing’ll get free run of the station through the vents. We’ll be fine… We’ve got food and water, this kit’s got enough supplies to last us, and… I think as long as we leave it alone, it’ll leave us alone.”

Lindsay hummed as they scanned the room. The plants in the crates had calmed down a little bit, and as far as they could tell the one in the vents was perfectly still, only shifting every now and then but not making any grand movements. “What should we do, then?”

“Make sure everyone else evacuates the ship the second we touch down and send Michael down here with a flamethrower. We’ll take a bit of a hit to our pay because we’ll be short a crate, but I don’t care. I want that thing dead.”

“I’m sure the commander feels the same way… Are you sure he’s gonna be okay?” They asked, dimming the lights a little. If it was dark, the plants would probably stay calmer. It would make sleeping a little easier for the pair as well.

Alfredo bit his lip, shrugging a shoulder before shaking his head. “No, but I’m trying to be optimistic.” He leaned his head back against the crate and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief he’d been holding for far too long. With Lindsay back, it meant he wasn’t alone. There was a buffer between him and the commander, someone to help fill the silence.

They were quiet for a few minutes as they relayed information to the rest of the crew, before the comms crackled in the hold once more. “You should try and sleep too, ‘Fredo. Now that we know where it is, I can keep an eye on it.”

“No, I gotta make sure he’s still breathing.”

“I can keep an eye on him too. The crates are quiet, so all my sensors are in working order. His heart rate is normal, if a bit weak, but he’s breathing fine. You should rest.”

He didn’t really have the energy to argue with them further, so he relented. “Wake us in a few hours. I’m gonna have to change his bandages and clean those wounds. Michael’ll kill me if I let those get infected.”

“Yes, he will.”

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

As hour twelve rolled around, Lindsay brightened the lights slowly and chimed softly to wake the pilot and the commander. They hoped that the plants wouldn’t be disturbed as well, but considering how long it took the pair to wake up, they weren’t really too concerned.

“Trevor,” Alfredo said softly, jostling him gently with his shoulder. His ass and his neck ached from sleeping on the hard metal floor in such an awkward position, and he was sure that the other man would need another round of painkillers too. “Trevor, c’mon man. Wake up.”

He did so with great reluctance, groaning softly as he registered several different aches and pains. “Was this really necessary?”

“Yeah, it was. Gotta change your bandages so Michael won’t have to cut off your arm,” he said, encouraging him to sit up before reaching for the supplies in front of him. “Or my head.”

Trevor laughed softly, starting to stretch his arms out over his head before he stopped short, wincing and clutching his bandaged arm to his chest. “Fuck… I thought that was a dream,” he muttered, eyes squeezed shut.

“I wish it was,” Alfredo sighed, “But while you were sleeping, we got Lindsay back. So that’s good, at least. Told them everything. They wanted to send Michael down here, but I told them not to.”

“And why the hell did you do that?” Trevor winced as Alfredo started to unwrap the gauze. Despite how careful he was being, it still pulled at the cuts uncomfortably.

“Because,” he started, murmuring an apology when he saw him wince and trying to go slower. “If the lockdown gets lifted, that thing can go through the vents and go anywhere it wants, which is bad.”

Trevor hummed in agreement, but it was reluctant. He didn’t like knowing Alfredo had been giving orders while he’d been asleep, even if they were the same ones he would’ve given. “What’d you tell them to do, then?”

“Keep the lockdown going, evacuate everyone once we land, and then send Michael down here. With a flamethrower.”

“Good thinking.”

“Why, thank you.”

They fell into a comfortable silence then, Alfredo removing the last of the gauze and cleaning up his arm. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, so now it was just a focus on preventing infection, which he hoped would be easy enough. It would be even easier once they got back on solid ground, when Michael could actually get in here and kill the thing. Bullets probably wouldn’t do the trick, they’d just piss Gavin off by causing damage to the ship, but fire was pretty damn effective in every circumstance.

“Lindsay?” Trevor called softly, feeling instantly comforted when he heard their voice over the speakers. “Where is the thing? Still in the vent?”

“Yep. Still in the vent. It’s almost cute like this, even if it did try to eat you.”

“It didn’t… It didn’t try to eat me.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, commander. Oh, and Matt would like me to tell you that he thinks it’s hilarious you got your ass kicked by a plant.”

Trevor huffed, rolling his eyes and sinking back against the crates. Even when he was isolated from his crew, they still found a way to pester him.

Beside him, Alfredo shrugged off his jacket, flipping it inside out so the soft lining was visible before balling it up. “You should get some more rest,” he said as he held it out to Trevor. “It’s not much, but it’ll be better for your neck than the crate.”

He hesitated a moment before taking it, sinking right down to the floor to lay flat since he had a pillow now. “It’s weird seeing you without your jacket on.” Alfredo had been wearing it from the moment he’d met him until now, he hadn’t seen him with it off once.

“He even wears it to bed,” Lindsay piped up, laughing as Alfredo’s face went as red as the leather.

“I do not!” He shouted defensively, glaring up at the ceiling. “It’s just part of my style, that’s all.”

“Relax,” Trevor chuckled, reaching out blindly to pat Alfredo’s arm. He missed and hit leg instead, but neither of them said anything. “I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s a good style, I like it.” He turned his head, looking up at Alfredo with a small smile.

The other couldn’t help but smile back, getting comfortable against the box behind him. He didn’t know why that compliment made him feel so warm, but he was lucky that his face was already red from Lindsay’s teasing so it didn’t give him away. “Thanks, Trev.”

“Anytime, Fredo.”

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

The hours rolled by easily, the pair spending most of them asleep because there wasn’t much else to do. They woke up a few times so Alfredo could change the bandages, munching on some rations at one point since the last meal they’d had was breakfast that morning. Chatting with Lindsay was another good way to pass the time, too. They were able to keep the crew updated on the situation down in the hold, and keep the commander updated on things going on on the other side of the door. There wasn’t much going on, just a lot of worry, but Trevor still didn’t want to be out of the loop.

Once they’d slept as much as they could and talked to Lindsay until there was nothing more to talk about, they decided to do the only thing they could to pass the final few hours before the ship landed: Talk to each other.

“You said you used to work on Earth. What was that like?” Trevor asked, looking down at Alfredo. They swapped who got to use the jacket-pillow every couple of hours, and since they weren’t going to be sleeping anymore Trevor had decided to surrender it back to its original owner (even though it was still technically his turn for another thirty minutes).

“You’ve never been?” he asked, sticking an arm beneath his head to prop himself up as he looked back at the commander, who shook his head. “I mean, it was fine? I guess? Kinda boring compared to space. The sky was always the same, and there were way too many people. Have you seriously never been to Earth?”

“No, I grew up out in the Terra 2 colony. Then I got sucked up into a spacer crew, and that was it. Never saw any reason to go once I got the Morrigan, and now without a warp drive we’re too far out.”

“I’m shocked a job hasn’t taken you there, people there are always looking for stuff smuggled in from the far reaches,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. Customs was a bitch to get by, but he still had a few buddies down there who’d be willing to let them through. He was sure of it. “Once we get that drive, we’ll pick up a few jobs that’ll take us there.”

“Whatever you say, man. But you didn’t exactly make it sound worth the hype.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely not, but still. I can’t believe you’ve never been!”

Talking to Trevor was a lot easier than it had been before. He wasn’t as scared of him, and a lot of the distrust had faded. The feeling was mutual, as well. The commander wasn’t angry at Alfredo anymore, because ultimately, none of this was his fault. He was the one who hadn’t checked in on the cargo sooner, he was the one who’d startled the monster, all of this fell on his shoulders because it was his ship and he was responsible for everything that happened on it.

“I’m sorry,” Trevor said out of nowhere, almost startling Alfredo with the suddenness of it. “I’m sorry I blamed all this on you.”

“It’s fine.” He hadn’t been expecting an apology from the commander. Maybe a month or two on bathroom cleaning duty, sure, but not an apology. “We both had our fuckups in this mess.”

“We did, but it’s unfair to blame the whole thing on you. Most of it, sure?” Alfredo cut him a look, and he just laughed. “Kidding. I’m kidding! Don’t give me that. It’s really more like… Fifty/fifty.”

“Sixty/forty. You’re the sixty.”

“Yeah, okay. Fair enough.”

They grinned at each other, oblivious to the way the ship began to creak and groan around them as Lindsay initiated the landing sequence. The plants in the crates kicked up again, but the one in the vents was still.

“You know what? You’re alright, Fredo. Gavin was right about you.”

Alfredo’s face matched his jacket all over again, and he had to fight hard to get the words out despite how flustered he was. Trevor hadn’t called him by any sort of nickname until now, it made him feel good to know that the commander was finally warming up to him. “What… What did he say about me, exactly?”

“That you were the best of the best. And he was right. Normally he’s not right about these things, but… He nailed it with you.”

“You sure you’re not still woozy from blood loss?” Alfredo asked, arching an eyebrow as he sat up, meeting Trevor’s eyes. “Because I know we just did that whole heartfelt apology thing, but… I definitely almost got you killed.”

He shook his head fervently. “No, you didn’t. You saved my life.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to let you die.”

“And I owe you big time for that.”

The ship jostled as it landed on uneven earth, and Alfredo grabbed onto Trevor quickly to prevent him from sliding around with the crates around them. Even as things settled, he didn’t let go, hearing something hiss in annoyance from the far end of the cargo hold.

“Lindsay… Please tell us Michael’s on his way,” Trevor said, sinking back into the pilot in an effort to hide as he scrambled to grab the harpoon gun.

“He’s outside the door, we’re just waiting for everyone to be off the ship so I can lift the lockdown. I suggest staying out of his way… He’s been wanting to use that thing for the last eighteen hours, and I don’t think anything’s gonna get in his way.”

“If he dies, Alfredo’s the new medical officer.”

“Noted.”

Using a flamethrower while they were in flight was unwise because of the oxygen rich environment, but back on terra firma it was the perfect weapon for dealing with unruly plant monsters. Michael’s cackles of delight echoed off the walls, mixing with the roar of the weapon and the shrieks of the plant as it burned. The noises kicked off another escape attempt in the other crates, but the reinforcements they’d made held firm. Only a few crates of supplies got caught up in the crossfire, and Michael was relatively unharmed aside from the ash staining his lab coat.

Alfredo let the harpoon drop from his hands once he realized he wouldn’t be needing it, instead helping Trevor to his feet and keeping him steady as they made their way to the bay doors. “Michael,” he said, watching as the man kept scorching the charred remains. “Michael!” He stopped firing quickly, whirling around with wide eyes. “Stop dicking around, Trevor needs help.”

“A thank you would’ve been nice,” Michael muttered as he dropped the weapon, knowing he’d need his hands free to help Trevor.

“Thank you, Michael. Now help him, please?”

“Yeah, yeah. Lindsay told me that you were trying to steal my job, I just hope you didn’t make things worse,” he said as he swapped places with Alfredo, supporting Trevor’s weight to make sure he wouldn’t fall. “Alright, Trevor-boy, let’s get you to the infirmary.” He started to lead him out of the cargo hold, and Alfredo watched them go for a second before turning to start cleaning the mess they’d left behind up.

Trevor stopped after a few paces, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re not coming?” he asked, the smallest hint of a frown etched into his features.

“Uh.” Alfredo blinked, not sure how to answer. “No?”

“Yes, you are. C’mon.”

“Why?”

“I need someone there for moral support. Michael’s not as gentle as you are and I need someone’s hand to hold while he patches me up.” Trevor cracked a grin despite the fact that he wasn’t telling a joke, and Alfredo mirrored the expression after a moment to process exactly what he’d said. “Come on, I don’t have all day,” he insisted, holding out his hand towards him as Michael began to pull him along.

Alfredo jogged to catch up to them, abandoning the task at hand in favor of taking Trevor’s hand. He was happy to have escaped the cargo bay alive, and even happier to know that he was back in the commander’s good graces. Their relationship was different, stronger and a lot friendlier than it had been now that they were no longer wary of each other. Trevor couldn’t think of a single member of the crew that he would’ve rather gone through that ordeal with, either.

“Thanks for not letting the boss die, Fredo,” Michael said, cutting into the silence once they reached the infirmary.

“Yeah, thanks for not letting me die, Fredo,” Trevor agreed, smiling kindly at him and giving his hand a squeeze.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

#ragehappy #secret springfairy #rt writers #jeremichael #alfreyco #i hope those are the right ship names i have no clue #space au #oneshot #fic #fanfic #my fic #my writing #everamazingfe

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