#and I’m worried I’ll get stuck halfway through and it won’t be finished

[corellianhounds]

Unironically need whatever late 2020/early 2021 me had going on in terms of creativity. Felt so elastic and fun

[clumsiestgiantess]

Part — what is this.. four of the ‘tiny in the cold’ story! (wow that’s a lot more than the oneshot I intended it to be; thanks for the support!) @entomolog-t it’s back!

[Alice’s pov]

My alarm clock buzzes obnoxiously to my left, but for once I’m not annoyed by it.  I need to get up; it’s exam day.  The exam starts… NOW!  “What?!  I-  Oh my god, I set the alarm for the time I needed to be there!  I’m going to be so late!”  Dashing through the house, I shove a blueberry muffin into my mouth, throw my coat on, grab my bag, and speed out the door.  Jabbing the elevator button every half a second, I practically pounce into the empty space once the doors open.  Thank goodness there was no one in here.  From the moment I step into the lobby, the rest of the trip is a blur.

My brain only finally starts working about a half-hour into testing.  Miraculously, they made an exception and let me in.  I’d blamed my lateness on the slick ice lining a few of the roads instead of my own confusion, and the proctor believed me.  I mean, technically it is the truth.  I was a bit slower coming here because of the ice, though not by much.

Thankfully, this is one of my easier exams.  Even with my grogginess, I have extra time to look through — and redo — the parts I’d done in my half-asleep mind.  I finish the edits with a mere minute to spare.  There are a few quick celebrations between me and a few of my friends who were also taking it, then I head back home.  One final down, four more to go.

My schedule from then on would be to rinse and repeat over the next few days — eat a meal, study, eat another meal, study, maybe sleep, then go back for another test.  When I go to bed that night, I double check that I changed the alarm to give me some time to actually get up.  

That next morning, I have enough time to eat breakfast and glance over my notes before heading back out to yet another exam.  It had snowed overnight, and I hurriedly brushed it off the windshield before heading out.  I actually made it here a bit early!  Maybe I can go see if Terri-  

“Wait!”  I flinch.  Who’s voice is that?  “Please!  I-”  The strange voice stops as abruptly as it started speaking.  Immediately, I turn in my seat, scanning the back for any sign of another person in here with me.  A tiny-sounding whine directs me to the floor.  “What the hell?”  There’s.. a small.. thing moving around down there, halfway tucked inside a beanie that I’d lost a while back.  “Am.. Am I hallucinating?  I can’t!” I yelp suddenly, remembering where I am, “I have exams; I can’t be hallucinating during exams!”  The little — very humanlike — thing collapses to the floor.  I knew I should’ve gone to bed earlier.  This isn’t real, right?  That’s a palm-sized person on the floor.  I rub a hand tiredly over my face and look again.  They’re still there.  “Holy shit.  You’re.. real.”

Leaning down over the console of the car, I twist myself around so I can see them better.  They’re shaking so badly.  “Are you alright?” I ask, worry beginning to gnaw at my stomach.  “How long have you been in my car?  You must be freezing!”  Their little head nods very slightly.  “Are you another person?”  They flinch, and I regret my last question.  Of course they’re a person.  They just spoke to me.  Quietly, their voice rasps out, barely audible.  “I’m a person.  Please don’t leave me out here again.  I- I don’t know if I’ll be able to survive this time.”

My stomach sinks horribly in my chest.  How long has he been stuck out here in the cold?  He’s so small; he’ll freeze so easily.  “O- Of course, yes; I won’t leave you in here to freeze!” I gasp.  “Do you mind if I.. umm.. pick you up?”  I don’t have time to try to warm him where he is on the floor.  I doubt he really needs the extra fright of me trying to handle him, especially because he already seems so desperate, but if I don’t leave soon, I’m going to be late twice in a row.  One time I can get away with, but twice and I’ll probably get in trouble, or worse, kicked out.

A tiny head shake — no, he wouldn’t mind it.  I let out a relieved breath.  I honestly have no idea what I would’ve done if he’d refused.  Leave him here?  Out of the question.  Pick him up anyway?  That would be horrible of me.  Give him the choice to either come with me or be left here?  That just sounds like a threat.  Thankfully he’s either willing enough — or desperate enough — to trust me.

Carefully, I reach down for him, sliding my fingers gently beneath him and guiding his tiny body into my hand.  He squirms against me as I tighten my grip slightly in order to lift him.  My heart skips a beat; his hands grip my finger tightly — shaking and icy cold.  Poor thing.  I wish I had more time to help you.  I lift him upright and slide back into my seat slowly so I don’t jostle him.  Hesitantly, he chances a glance up at me.  “I’m gonna keep you in my pocket, ok?” I ask, though I know it’s more like telling him what I’ll do with him than actually asking.  It hurts my heart in a strange way, recognizing that.  “I.. really don’t have time to deal with this right now, but you’ll be plenty warm there.  I’m so sorry, but I have to go.”  A quick apology will have to suffice until later.

Lowering him into my pocket and dropping him carefully onto the bottom, I reach for the door handle.  However, I flinch away from it as a cry tears through the car.  “It’s ok; you’re alright!  I’m not gonna-”  “It’s too hot!  I need something colder!  Please!  It burns!”  His cries get louder and more pained.  In an instant, I reach in to pull him out and he rushes for my fingers, clinging tightly to them.  I freeze, unsure if I should move with him so close.  “Th- Thank you,” I hear him gasp.  Still, I’m frozen.  What do I do if I can’t leave him in there?  He’s shaking so awfully against me.  His little body is almost drenched in sweat from struggling with the pain for so long.  Will he be alright?

“You’re.. you’re ok now?  Like that?” I ask worriedly.  He nods, face nearly pressed against my palm.  “Ok.  Try not to yell like that anymore unless it’s an emergency.  I don’t need to be kicked out of the testing room and searched.  Who knows what the punishment is for sneaking a tiny guy into the room, or what they’ll do with you for that matter.”  Now is really not the time to find a tiny person struggling for life, but I’ll do my best to help him.  If that means leaving the testing room on account of some fake ‘emergency’ to help him, then so be it.  I’d rather keep him alive over anything else.

Once I’m sure he’s comfortable, I step outside.  Every single movement I make becomes calculated with him in my pocket.  What if I walk too fast and hit him accidentally?  What if I sit down and crush him?  Did I put lotion on my hands this morning?  He’s sitting tucked right against my palm.  It would feel so cute if it wasn’t a literal tiny human sitting there.  My hands are peeling from the cold; is that the one with the torn skin or is that-  No, it’s this one.  My worries just start to fade as testing time officially starts and I focus on the questions in front of me instead of the ones in my head.

However, about an hour later, I feel light pressing against my fingers.  The tiny person’s hands shove at me until I move away.  Confused and worried, I take my hand out of my pocket and inconspicuously glance down.  His little face peers up at me and nods slightly, assuring me I’d done nothing wrong.  Oh, he’s probably warmed all the way up by now!  Returning to my work, I try not to dwell on anything.  Still, relief floods my system knowing that I’d saved him from what might’ve been the end of him.  He’ll be alright now.

Finishing the exam, I’m one of the first people out the door.  Finally, I can talk to my tiny stowaway.  Once I’m in the car again, I gently pull him out of my pocket and hold him out in the palm of my hand to get a good look at him.  As soon as I unfurl my fingers, he tucks himself into a tight ball — his heavy frightened breaths press against my palm.  “Hey, little guy?  I’m sorry about basically ignoring you earlier.  Finals are this week and I really need them to go well,” I try to explain.  “Are you alright?  You’re warmer than before; that’s good!  I hope my pocket wasn’t too claustrophobic for you.”

In small hesitant movements he gets up from his fetal position and sits on his knees on my palm, staring up at me with wide eyes.  It’s strange — his clothes seem to be hand-stitched — his hair mussed and tangled.  Bringing him just a little closer, I can count at least two different scars by just glancing over him.  How long has he been small for?  Did he shrink, or is he just.. something else entirely?

My thoughts are interrupted by his voice.  It’s much stronger now, and a lot clearer with him held up closer to my head.  There’s still a strange smallness about it that makes goosebumps dash along my arms.  “I- I’m ok,” he answers me.  I exhale in relief, and become entirely conscious of how the single breath ruffles his hair like a slight breeze.  “Thank goodness; I really hoped you weren’t beyond saving.  You were super cold when I found you, barely moving.  Speaking of which, why were you in my car to begin with?  And how in the world did you manage to shrink?”  Compared with his few words and tiny voice, I feel almost like I’m speaking over him talking so much, though it doesn’t seem like he has much to say.  The guy’s probably stunned enough by the scale of everything.

I watch his brows furrow in deep thought, and for a moment I believe he’ll tell me he didn’t even shrink.  Perhaps he was magic.  But if he is, wouldn’t he have been able to save himself?  “I.. don’t remember.  I can’t remember what happened before I shrank, but I’m definitely a human.  Just smaller.”  Oh.  Oh!  Oh no, poor thing.  He’s probably been stuck so small for so long because he doesn’t even know where he is!  No memories, stuck small, freezing weather — no wonder he was desperate for help.  And now he’s begging me just to see him as a fellow human.

“Of course you’re still human!  Being smaller won’t change that!” I assure him, inadvertently cupping my hand a bit closer around him.  “I promise I don’t mean you any harm; I just want to make sure you’re ok.  Come on, I’ll take you back to my place — get you something to eat.”  I reach to put him away, but pause.  “Oh, I’m Alice, by the way.  Do you.. remember your name?”  He looks frightened for a moment.  “I don’t really remember much.”  That’s horrifying!  Not even your own name?  I don’t say that, though.  He probably already knows.  “I can try to help you remember it, but if you can’t, I guess you can try out a new one for the time being.”  He nods, relief settling some of his features.  Placing him down in the cupholder beside me, I head for home.

The drive is horribly silent — which I can’t stand.  I know my little companion probably needs time to think through some things now that I’ve finally noticed him.  Why haven’t I noticed him before?  Has he been in my car for a while?  Realization dawned on me that he’d really have to be an excellent climber to be able to get in.  He’s so small that the space between the edge of the car door and the ground must be over twice his height.

“Soo..” I begin awkwardly, “I do have a question you might know the answer to.”  The little guy looks up at me, seemingly startled out of thought.  “How did you get in my car?”  His face pales, and he looks.. frightened?  “I.. I snuck in yesterday morning.”  “You climbed up all the way into my car?  Why?”  He turns guilty away from me, like I caught him in a lie.  But why would he lie about how he got in here?  “Uhh.. it was cold outside.  Your car was warmer.. at the time.”  Is he just embarrassed that he got stuck in here?  It must’ve been rather freezing when it snowed yesterday.  He.. could’ve died in here — alone!  I’d have found his body whenever I next went to clean out my car.

“Oh!  I locked you in here and then everything froze last night!  Poor thing!  I’m so sorry!  I wouldn’t have left you here like that if I’d known you were in the car!”  I feel so awful for believing he was trying to lie.  Poor little guy was probably just having a hard time talking about it.  The thought of his near-death while I wasn’t even there just occurred to me now, but he’d actually experienced the bitter cold that had likely come close to killing him.  Of course he’d be nervous thinking about it.

Trying to change the subject, I begin ranting about finals.  It’s the next thing on my mind I can think to talk about.  I make it all the way back to my apartment, then turn to my tiny passenger.  Flattening out my hand, I leave it gently on the center console right beside the cupholder he’s sitting in.  “Here, hop on and I’ll bring you inside,” I tell him, “Would you like something to eat?”  He nods, climbing up and sliding slowly and hesitantly into my palm.  Even if he’s been tiny for quite a while, getting picked up by someone so much bigger than you must be a crazy terrifying experience.  I slip him in my pocket as I step outside.  I can’t risk someone seeing him, it just.. feels wrong to flaunt him around in the open for people to ogle at.  He probably doesn’t want the attention drawn to himself anyway.

I let him out again when we’re safely behind the closed door of my apartment.  Gently, I set him on the counter by taking off my whole jacket and putting it down.  He’d been so frightened when I’d plucked him out of my pocket earlier, and I didn’t want to frighten him again.  Patiently, I wait for him to come out to the countertop.  “What would you like?” I ask kindly.  He glances around the room, then points to the pantry.  “What do you have in there?”  Shrugging, I wander over and peer in.  “Well, let’s see.. we have soup crackers, some cheese puffs, popcorn, mac and cheese �� but I’d have to cook it first, obviously.  “Oh!  But I think you’ll like- ” Glancing back at the counter to see if he was interested in any of it, I find that he’s disappeared from view.  

“Hey, umm.. little guy?  Where’d you go?” I ask, stepping around the counter to the other side.  He’s not there, either.  I lift up my coat, but he’s still not there.  “Where- Where’d you go?!  This isn’t funny!  You can’t just disappear!”  Unless…  I gasp and quickly scan the floor.  Please don’t tell me he fell off.  I- If he fell…  “Hey!  Please come back!  I- I’m not that scary, am I?  Why’d you leave?  I don’t-”  I don’t understand; there’s not a trace of him on the floor or the counter.  “Come back!  Whatever it is you’re frightened of, I’ll change it!  Please don’t run off and get hurt somewhere!  If you want to take care of yourself, that’s fine!  Just.. please let me know so I don’t think something happened to you!”

Hours tick by as I scour the floor and countertops, searching for my little missing guest.  All the while I call out various comforting things, trying to convince him to at the very least let me know that he’s alive.  Still nothing.  I can’t find him, and something tells me he doesn’t want to be found.  By 4:00 in the morning, there’s still no answer, and I go to bed without one.  I try to go to sleep, but all I can do is lay down and stare at the ceiling trying to listen for the sounds of something small moving around.  Only at about 6:00 in the morning do I finally fall asleep for a good two hours before my alarm startles me awake.  At least I don’t have an exam today.  I just have to study.

I trudge down the hall to the kitchen and freeze.  He could still be on the floor somewhere.  Continuing my trek with much more caution than before, I make a bowl of cereal and sit down numbly.  I stare out at nothing in particular; thoughts jumble in my head.  My lack of sleep and my severe rise in anxiety combined to cause an awful feeling in my head.  My stomach also started to feel the effects, and I left the kitchen only a few spoonfuls of food fuller than I had when I walked in.

Studying didn’t help my mood much, but every time I took a break from it, my mind would wander back to the tiny person potentially wandering around my home, too scared to ask for help when he likely needed it.  Lunchtime came and went — I wasn’t hungry.  I tried studying again by watching a few videos my professor posted.  Those didn’t seem to make sense to me, and my anxiousness morphed into an ugly frustrated anger.  “No!  What?  How?!  I used the same formula and everything!  What the heck?!”  Crumpling my paper in a messy ball, I can already feel an angry scream building in my throat.

As quickly as my anger emerges, however; it fizzes out.  My scream comes out as a sob and I fall against my desk.  Nothing had gone right for me.  Finals week is the absolute worst week for my luck to run out.  “I’m gonna fail,” I whisper, “I can’t do this.  Why is everything going so wrong?  I just wanted to help him; why’d he run away?  I feel sick.  What if he’s hurt somewhere and can’t call for help?  What if he’s too scared to call for help?”  Tears fall down my face and sobs wrench out of my throat in gasps.  My empty stomach roils painfully as I cry.

“Alice!  It’s ok, I-”  At the sound of a voice too small to have come from any normal person, I whirl around in my seat, furiously rubbing my eyes so I could see through my tears.  I can’t find him on the floor, just like the night before, but I know I heard the tiny person I’d rescued.  “Hello?” I call into the seemingly empty room.  A voice responds.  “It’s.. It’s ok.  It’s me, the ‘little guy’.”  I gasp a relieved breath, then stand, peering around the room for where he might be.  His voice is so small I can’t tell where it’s coming from.  “You’re… alright?” There’s a long silence, then: “Yeah.”

“Oh thank god!”  I breathe fully for what feels like the first time in days.  “You made me so worried for you!  Are you hungry still?  I- I know you haven’t eaten in a while since you.. ran off when I tried to get something for you.”  I myself felt like I was starving.  I could only imagine what he might be feeling.  I’m kept waiting for a long time — so long that I’m afraid he’ll leave if I don’t say something.  Steadying my voice with another deep breath, I offer an apology.  “Look, I’m sorry I scared you off…  I don’t know what happened, but I’m willing to work with you to try and get your memories and your old life back.  I can’t imagine how terrifying it is to suddenly be so small, not even knowing how you got that way-”  “Stop.”

I do, though I’m scared of how hollow his voice sounds.  “That’s.. a lie.  I remember everything just fine.”  Has he given up on finding a way back to normal?  Does he remember something awful that he hasn’t told me?  No wonder it felt like he was lying to me.  “So.. you just didn’t want to tell me how you shrank?” I ask, a bit confused.  “No.. Alice, I- I never shrank.  I’ve always been this way.”  My mind goes blank for a moment.  “Y- Wh-  H-” I stutter, only half-words forming on my tongue.  “I’m not human, Alice.”

He’s…  He’s what?  Slowly, I approach the bookshelf in front of me — where I can hear his voice now that he’s spoken enough for me to locate it.  Kneeling on the floor, I gently bend down to peer beneath it.  I’d already checked all the shelves to no avail.  There’s a small crack in the baseboard of the wall behind the shelf.  “Is that why you left?” I ask softly, “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.”  His voice becomes a bit harsher.  “You promised the tiny human me that you wouldn’t hurt me,” he corrects.  I blink confusedly, slowly connecting the dots.  “You thought I would go back on my word if I knew you were lying to me?  Or you just.. thought that I wouldn’t care because you’re not human?” 

But that’s awful!  Does he really think I would do that?  My distracted gaze flits back to the crack in the wall.  He’s there — standing in a position like he’s ready to flee at any sign of aggression, but he’s there.  “I promised you that I wouldn’t hurt you.  You.  No matter who or what you were.”  His expression shifts guiltily, and he glances away from me.  “I’m a bit upset you wanted to lie to me about… everything.  But I can’t be mad at you for being scared of me.  I won’t ask you to talk to me anymore if you don’t want to, but just know, I’m glad you’re alright.”

A small smile edges along his face as he turns back to me.  Carefully, the little.. person steps out of his hiding place.  “You- You really mean that?” He asks, “You don’t care that I’m not one of you?”  I exhale a tiny laugh and shake my head.  “Of course not, don’t be silly!  You’re safe here, I promise.  I understand if you want to go home, though.  You probably have others of your kind to get back to, and I’ve accidentally trapped you in my house.”  His steps falter and guilt briefly dashes across his face again.   “Well, about that…  I kind of.. live here.”  

Do I know anything about you?  As he relayed what really happened, it turns out I really don’t.  The only thing I do know about him that’s correct is the fact that he can fit in the palm of my hand, and of course the fact that he’d been freezing to death when I found him.  Beyond that, it’s like a whole new world just opened up to me.  I guess that makes sense, though.  He is an entirely different species, which is insane to think about.  I always thought we’d find human-intelligent beings on another planet before we ever found it here again.

“I actually did remember my name,” the little being — he told me he’s a borrower — confesses after talking to me about his life beneath my floors.  “It’s just.. not really a human-sounding one, so I couldn’t exactly give you it.  My name’s Fennel, but I mostly just go by Fen.”  “Fen?” I ask.  Well, it certainly isn’t a human-sounding name.  I offer Fen a bright smile.  “Nice to finally really meet you!  How long have you been living here.. with me?”  His eyes trail off in thought, “I moved in after you were already here, but you were still unpacking things, so I don’t think it was very far off from when you moved in, too.”  So we’ve been living here together the whole time?!

“Where were you living before?”  Fen shrugs, “Eh, another apartment in this building.  The new people were too loud, so I moved out.”  Wow, I wish I could’ve done that in my last apartment.  I had to wait for the lease to expire.  “I wish I could just pack up and slip into a new home whenever I have problems with the neighbors,” I tell him, mind already wandering to what I would do at his size, with his freedom.  

“It’s harder than it seems,” Fen sighs, “I have to rebuild a livable space for myself every time.”  Oh, right.  Maybe I wouldn’t want to be a borrower after all.  I sit back upright and my back cracks loudly as I do.  “Hey, if you don’t mind, can you maybe come out from beneath there?” I ask, “It hurts my back to try to bend all the way to the floor to look at you.”  

He’s hesitant, but Fen slowly makes his way over to the edge of the bookshelf.  When he finally steps out from beneath it, I gently lay my hand in front of him palm-up, like I had in the car when I took him inside.  “Can I hold you?  Please?”  This feels like a dream.  Did I even find you, or did I fall asleep trying to study?  To my relief, he gives me a slight nod.  I watch in awe as he climbs up onto my palm — hands and feet no bigger than a fingernail.  With Fen safely in my palm, I slowly and carefully lift him up to my face to ensure I’m really awake.  

Concern crunches my eyebrows together.  He has an empty fearful look, staring blankly through me with tensed muscles.  “Fen?”  His hands dart to his head, ducking beneath them for a tiny bit of safety.  “Are you ok?” I ask softly, “You look sick.  If this makes you uncomfortable, I can put you back down.  You didn’t have to get on.”  I can hear him breathing hard, but he stammers: “I- I’m alright.”  Shaking my head, I cup my other hand around him gently.  “You aren’t, though.  You’re shaking.”  With all the caution l can muster, I lower the pad of my finger against his chest.  Just as I thought, his breaths rise and fall heavily against my finger — even his heartbeat thunders rapidly against it.  He’s so.. delicate.  Sitting in my hand like that, I just can’t describe the feeling in any way besides tiny and fragile and alive.  

My eyes water in a sudden rush of relief, and I gently bring him to my chest, hugging his tiny form the best I can without crushing him.  I finally feel relieved for the first time that week.  “It’s alright now,” I exhale.  Holding him there, I can feel his breathing slow and he relaxes in my light grip.  Guiding him out in front of me again, I watch him curl up sleepily in my palm.  His back presses softly into my cupped fingers as he blearily looks up at me.  Awww, why does he have to look so cute like that?  I’m sure he’s exhausted.

Glancing around the room, I notice that one of the smaller blankets on my bed had fallen to the floor.  I scoop it up and place Fen down on my desk.  He stumbles off, and I have to quickly grab him and lower him down before he falls face-first on the wooden surface.  I bundle up the blanket so it’s reminiscent of a little mattress and pillow, then place it in the corner of my desk.  Fen sleepily trudges over and slides into it.  Checking to make sure he wouldn’t fall over the edge of my desk by blocking off the side with a book, I settle down and begin re-working the math problem that had gotten me so worked up earlier.   Just as I finish it, Fen rolls over in his makeshift bed and mumbles something quietly.  Get some sleep little guy; goodness knows you need it.  I need it too, but more than that, I need to eat.  After checking the problem against the key — I’d solved it correctly that time — I snuck off to the kitchen to make myself a quick meal before returning to my work.  With Fen sleeping on my desk, I had to plug in my headphones to listen to the videos, but that didn’t bother me much.  I had to stop yelling so much to avoid waking him, but I needed to calm myself down anyway.  It wasn’t long after finishing the worksheet that I fell asleep right there against my desk, with my tiny roommate sleeping soundly beside me.

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

Rogue Wave

Wipeout - Chapter 8

Pairing: Surfer!Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: Hi lovelies! I’m gonna try and slam out these last few chapters since they’re all almost done already. I hope you guys like it! Feedback is always appreciated and encouraged, love you all!

Warnings: A touch of angst, jealousy

Summary: Tom has a terrible day

Taglist

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

❀  ゜.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．゜❀

“I don’t wanna go to work,” you whined, throwing your head down into your mattress after you checked the time.

“I won’t object to you calling out,” Tom hummed.

“I can’t, Anya would kill me,” you rolled onto your back rather dramatically, “I have to go shower, I’ll try to be fast so we can finish this episode before I go.”

“Oh so I have to suffer because you have to work?” he raised a brow.

You nodded, “Yeah, because it wouldn’t be watching a show together if you watched it without me,” you stuck out your tongue as you crawled over him and out of the bed.

You two had started binging Chainsaw Man after an early morning surf session. You’d been hoping you could catch up before you had to go to work, but unfortunately duty called about halfway through the latest episode. So you left Tom alone on your bed while you got ready. He stared at your laptop for a minute, debating how angry you’d be with him if he finished the episode without you before ultimately deciding it was best to turn his attention to his phone.

Tom had only got to scroll through a few TikToks before a familiar ping forced his eyes back to the computer. The first few lines of an email were visible at the top of the screen. Tom squinted as he read over them, his heart stopped as he read over the name. It was the firm you’d applied to in London, but with just the first few lines he couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad email. He clicked on the notification, disregarding the nagging feeling that it was wrong for him to do so. His eyes scanned the email quickly, part of him wanted to find a yes. He wanted you to exceed in everything you did and be successful, but he was selfish. What he really wanted to find was a no, confirming that you wouldn’t be moving away from him.

Luckily the universe didn’t care about Tom’s more selfish desires and he found the email was a congratulatory one. The internship was yours if you wanted it, and while he was happy for you, it was a nightmare for Tom. His stomach flip flopped uncomfortably, a sudden wave of nausea hit him, it was like the whole room was spinning. He had no idea how to cope with even the thought of you moving away. Sure you said you didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t be sure you’d still feel that way after you found out you actually got it. It would be a dream come true for you, of course you’d want to go.

As he stared at the screen the idea of deleting the email crossed his mind. It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt you or sabotage you, he just didn’t want anything to change. He wanted to erase the idea of moving from both of your minds and just keep everything exactly how it was. Maybe if he were a worse person he could have erased the email, but he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he did something to sabotage your future. Unlike Tom you had plans for your future, you had specific goals you wanted to reach and you knew what you needed to do to get there. The internship was the best move for you and your career, and there was no way Tom couldn’t support you in that. He was selfish and hedonistic, but he cared about you too much not to put you first. He just wanted you to stay with him. He hated the thought that he’d end up just a memory to you, just some boy you hooked up with one summer. You two were supposed to be together always, things just worked best that way.

Tom pushed your laptop closed and rolled onto his back. He felt guilty just for having the thought, and he was worried about what would happen when you left the shower. You’d obviously be excited and he’d have to force himself to be happy for you, as much as he wanted to just tell you to forget it. He thought about what he could say or do if you told him you were going to take it. The thought alone made his chest ache and his cheeks burn.

“Oh come on, I was gone for like ten minutes, you better not have passed out,” you scoffed as you returned from the bathroom.

Tom had been completely lost in his own thoughts, taking no notice that you’d already left the shower, “Sorry, I promise I wasn’t sleeping,” he sat up. You’d already dressed yourself in a pair of shorts and a bikini top. He watched as you pulled a shirt over your head and began packing your bag, “I, uh, accidentally opened your email, sorry, the notification just popped up…”

“Oh, whatever, I don’t care,” you shrugged it off and glanced at him with a little smirk, “Was it a steamy Adam and Eve email?”

He hummed and nodded, “No, uh, I think you should probably just open it.”

You knit your brows, Tom didn’t get nervous often, it made you suspicious, “What is it?”

“Just open it,” he pushed the laptop across the bed towards you.

“Okay…” you opened the computer and began reading the email.

Tom watched your face flash from confusion to excitement in a matter of seconds. A big smile overtook your lips and you slammed your hand over your mouth, “I got the internship,” you stated in disbelief.

“Yeah, you did,” he did his best to sound excited, but he wasn’t sure he was faking it very well.

“Holy shit…” you kept gaping at your computer, “Holy shit I actually got it,” you turned your attention to him, smiling wider than he’d ever seen, “Oh my god I can’t believe I actually got it, this is like… Holy shit,” you stepped back from the computer, your eyes started to water and you made a quick move to wipe them, “I’m so happy.”

It was a bittersweet moment. Of course Tom was happy for you and it made him so happy to see you so excited, he just dreaded what it meant for the future.

“Of course you got it, I told you would,” he stood, “Congratulations.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, jumping and squealing excitedly, “I’m so happy Tom, you have no idea,” you had to wipe your eyes again as you looked back at the computer, “I just can’t believe this, it’s like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me!”

He couldn’t help smiling when he saw you so happy, “Well you deserve it, you work harder than anyone.”

You hugged him again, this time pressing your lips to his excitedly. He was happy to catch you and kiss you and hold you close. He just couldn’t help himself from asking about what was to come though, “So you think you’ll take it?”

He was anxious for you to answer, but you were too elated to really consider the question.

“Yes, no, maybe, who cares!” you sighed happily, “I’m just so happy right now, it’s so validating and just… I don’t know, it just feels like I’m really doing the right thing, like I’m really gonna be able to do this…”

“I could have told you that anytime Flower,” he smiled back at you, “I’m really proud of you.”

Your cheeks flushed and you pulled him down to kiss you again, “I love you!” you declared before snatching your laptop off your bed, “I’m gonna go tell Grace, she’s gonna freak!”

You ran off, leaving an absolutely stunned Tom all alone in your room. It hit him like a brick wall. Of course he loved you, and he knew you loved him. You were best friends after all, but you hadn’t said it out loud to each other. It was an excited outburst on your end, but he couldn’t help imagining a confession. It was just so strange to hear you say it. He told his other friends he loved them, and he never flinched when Harrison or Grace or anyone else told him they loved him. It was just a little different with you, because your relationship wasn’t just friendship, not really. There was something deeper than that, something deeper than just sex. Saying I love you couldn’t be platonic, not when it was you and him.

“Fuck,” Tom sat on the edge of your bed and gripped the edge of your mattress.

He thought back to when you’d decided to see each other exclusively, when he’d accused you of catching feelings. You weren’t the problem though, he was. He knew it now and he had known it then too, he was just in denial. He denied being jealous about Riley and Adrien too, but deep down he knew the truth. He just hated the idea of you being with anyone but him.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard you and Grace start yelling from across the hall. Rather than face his own feelings or try to sort himself out he got off the bed and went to join you. He leaned in the doorway while the two of you jumped around and squealed and hugged. Grace started tearing up and you spun each other around like some cheesy sitcom. Tom just smiled. He was happy he was there to see such a happy moment of yours. Whatever was going on with him was his problem, and he’d sort out his feelings some other time.

তততততততততততত

Tom had gotten pretty emotional on his short drive home. His mind was reeling with what ifs and he wanted nothing more than to just shut it off. So he started packing up his surfboard as soon as he got home, hoping to hit the waves and clear his mind. He was planning on driving up to little north beach he sometimes took you to in hopes that he’d be the only one there. Harrison was at work and Adrien had been in his room when he got home so neither of them would try to tag along. Which was perfect, the last thing he wanted was to talk to anyone.

“Hey Tom,” Adrien stepped out into the garage while Tom was trying to quickly clean his board, “Can we talk for a minute?”

Tom fought the urge to roll his eyes. He didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment, but especially not him, “What’s up?”

“You know I’ve been thinking about the other days a-”

“I was kind of a dick, I know, sorry,” he apologized quickly, hoping to end the interaction as quickly as possible, “And I’m sorry for cutting you off too. I was just in a bad mood after all the flying.”

Adrien nodded, “Right, I get that…” he trailed off for a second, “Are you good man? You seem a little rushed. If you're running late or something I can just catch you later...”

“I’m fine,” he forced a smile, “There’s just supposed to be some really good waves tonight, I’m anxious to get out there.”

“I’ll make it fast then,” he cleared his throat, “Thanks for apologizing, I know I was kind of prying too, I shouldn't have done that, it’s just that…” he trailed off again, “Look you were right, I’m into (y/n). I just didn’t want to make things weird you know?”

Tom pursed his lips. He was tempted to yell, he couldn’t blame Adrien for developing feelings for you, but it still pissed him off, “Yeah, I figured. No offense, but you don’t hide it very well.”

“I know,” his cheeks tinted a few shades darker, “Look man, I was just trying to figure out what’s going on with you two cause I’m into her, and I wanna ask her out. I know you guys were hooking up and I wanted to make sure it was just that before I made any sort of move. And you know, I figured I should make sure that’s cool with you first so there’s not any sort of weird tension in the house,” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s not cool with me,” Tom gritted his teeth. He really wanted to yell at him but he tried his best to stay composed, “You barely know her, you just think she’s pretty.”

“That’s not true, we hung out while you and Haz were gone,” he argued, “I mean I always thought she was pretty sure, but helping her with all her application stuff made me really into her. I don’t know her as well as you sure, but the whole point of dating is to get to know someone better.”

“Well if you want my approval or something it’s not happening,” he shook his head and grabbed his board off the table, walking away to go strap it to his car. He hoped that would be the end of it.

“Why not?” Adrien pressed, “I mean I get it if you have feelings for her or something but-”

“I don’t,” he denied it quickly.

“Right, you’ve said that,” he pursed his lips, “I’m not gonna hurt her or anything if that’s what you're worried about.”

“Well that wasn’t even a thought until you brought it up,” he scoffed, “I think it’s a bad idea. Like you said, it’ll just make things tense. I’m not trying to be a douche here Adrien, just don’t do it. It’s not a good idea.”

“I wouldn’t be weird about it Tom, I know you guys were hooking up, it doesn’t bug me.”

“You’re saying that like you already know she’ll say yes,” Tom looked down at him from the top of his Jeep, “What I mean is that it’ll be weird and tense when she turns you down and then she comes over to see me. It’s best if you just try to move on.”

“You don’t know that,” he bit back.

“I do actually, so just drop it,” Tom swung into the driver's seat of his car, “Like I said, I don’t wanna be a douche here, but I will if you don’t back off.”

“Oh don’t worry you already are,” Adrien crossed his arms, “Whatever man, I was just giving you a heads up.”

Tom laughed. The idea of you two going out was so absurd to him that he didn’t know what else to do, “Right, well you let me know how that goes for you.”

“Yeah, whatever, have fun out there.”

“Oh I will,” he flashed a condescending smile, “I’ll see you when I get home.”

Adrien walked back inside without another word.

next chapter

❀  ゜.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．゜❀

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[the-void-writes]

Prompt: Worriedly inspecting their temperature after noticing their lack of mood and giving a chaste kiss on the forehead.

You know this was the best prompt for Jason and Will 😭 I’ve missed writing for them honestly and I like how their interactions have kind of grown here, so thank you 💖

Freaks Of Preston - Sick Night In

Will slumped against the desk as his fever grew worse. The overhead lights made his head throb, and closing his eyes did little to help it. He could feel the Infection trudging through his veins, like cold water moving through a hose, sucking out all the warmth and life from his body. It was feeding off of him.

A soft, pale hand brushed his blonde hair from his forehead, pausing at the unnatural heat of his skin.

“Will, you’re burning up,” Jason said.

“Just tired, I swear.”

His voice was so hollow that he felt sorry for himself. Jason looked through the papers on the desk, recognizing the testing form that Will was halfway through filling out.

“You can put those away, dear. Everyone’s gone home already.”

“No, Vesely needs them done. I don’t want him to hurt one of you if I can’t finish.”

“He won’t, I promise you.”

Will tried to turn, but when the world started spinning around him, he pressed his head back on the desk. He didn’t have the strength to get up, let alone walk back to his dorm. Somewhere in his mind, like a distant shout, he could feel Jason pick him up and carry him away.

He hadn’t been carried by anyone in a long time, not since he was child, and all he could think about was how nice it felt to be loved again. Will let himself doze off for a while, comforted by Jason’s presence. When he woke up, he could hear people dully talking to each other. It was a company broadcast, with some poor interns stuck reading the evening news while everyone else was relaxing in their rooms.

The light paint along the walls belonged to Jason and Henry’s apartment. Will was laying against Jason’s shoulder on the couch, propped up by the small pillow wedged between them. His godfather’s left wing laid across him like a blanket, warmer and softer than any material on Earth. Will tried to sit up a little.

“What did I miss?”

“Everything,” Jason said with a playful smile. “We won the Nobel prize, took over the world, and went to the moon.”

“You wouldn’t let me sleep if Vesely was sending people to space.”

He laughed. “Yes, you’ve got me there.”

Will rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“It’s alright. We all lost track of time today.”

“I still didn’t finish those tests.”

Jason huffed. “Don’t worry, I’m sorting that out with Gabe tomorrow. No more late-night testing for you.”

“He’s not gonna like that.”

“Then he shouldn’t have given you his damn parasite.”

Darkness stirred in his pale eyes, and Will couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to look after me like this.”

Jason stared at him, darkness replaced by heartbreak, and pulled him close to his chest. It hurt to cry, thanks to the Infection, but Will shed a few tiny tears as Jason shushed him gently.

“It’s not your fault, Will.”

“I got in the way of—”

“It’s not your fault.” He closed his eyes. “I don’t understand why the world keeps punishing you, but don’t you dare blame yourself for it. And don’t think, for one second, that I would ever get tired of caring for you.”

Will dried his eyes. “You really mean that?”

“Yes, dear. Always and forever.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Jason.”

“Of course. Try to rest some more, please. I’ll wake you when Henry comes back with dinner.”

Will smiled and closed his eyes again. As he drifted back to sleep, he felt Jason kiss his head. His whisper was like a distant memory.

“I’ll keep you alive, dear. I swear on my life, nothing will ever take you from me again.”

[gubler-me-up]

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

[maxbegone]

happy wip wednesday! with the first chapter of the about time au being posted the past weekend, i don’t have any more of that to share — however i do have something else. it was fully inspired by something i wrote for class last semester and i couldn’t quite get it out of my head. not sure what’s to come from it just yet.

“Eight letter word for ‘maker.”

“Oh, no.” Carlos sets his mug down with a thunk. “I’m not helping you when you didn’t help me last time.”

“Because this is a race,” Paul explains, “and I’m trying to win.”

“Yeah, and I was stuck. Why did you ask me for help then?”

“Did you not hear what I just said?”

Carlos rolls his eyes. “Fourteen minutes, thirty-nine seconds,” he tells Paul. “What are you on?”

“Six minutes, twelve seconds,” he says after tapping his phone. “Thirteen out of thirty.”

He wraps his knuckle on the counter as the bell over the door rings. “Clock’s ticking.”

He pushes himself upright just as a guy walks in, looking around awkwardly. He’s in a sweatshirt, the hood of which he pulls down as soon as he spots Carlos as he smiles politely.

“Are you guys open?” He asks, and Paul laughs again.

“We are,” Carlos replies, moving to knock the pencil out of his hand. “Take a seat wherever you’d like, I’ll be right over.”

He nods, looking around again before taking the booth furthest away from him and Paul.

“Fourteen,” he hears Paul say as he walks away to grab a menu, and Carlos ignores him.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Carlos asks as he sets down the menu on the edge of the table.

The guy looks nervous, if not incredibly tired, as he drags the menu closer. When he looks up, Carlos is met with the greenest eyes he’s ever seen.

“Um. A coffee, please.”

“Sure. Milk and sugar?”

“Black’s fine.”

Carlos nods. “It’ll be a few minutes, I have to make a new pot.”

“Oh, then don’t worry,” the guy tries, but he’s already waving him off. “I’m good with water.”

“It won’t take long,” he assures. “I’ll give you a few minutes with the menu.”

“Thanks,” he replies. He gives him the slightest hint of a smile as he pulls his sleeves down over his hands.

“I’ll be right back.”

The old coffee maker always takes a second or two to warm up — it’s industrial and kind of shitty, but it gets the job done — so he pulls out the well-worn moleskine field journal Carlos keeps in the drawer with him on shift and uncaps his pen.

“The word was ‘almighty,’ by the way,” Paul says without prompt.

“Congrats.”

He hums. “You still do that?”

“Huh?” Carlos looks up from flipping through the pages to find Paul looking at him incredulously. “Yeah. Why?”

“It’s obsessive. What are you even gonna do with all that information?” He asks. “Write a book with it?”

“No, it’s just a way for me to pass the time. I did it at my old job, too.”

“You just like being observant, don’t you?” He smirks, and Carlos winks.

“It helps,” he says. He rifles through until he finds the page he’s looking for and slides it across the counter. “Criminology major.”

Paul pauses his timer, brows pinching as he reads.

“Paul, end stool. Three cups of green tea with lemon and honey, one cup of coffee at start of shift. Bowl of fruit halfway through.” He pauses, looking back at Carlos with an unamused expression. “Can’t finish a crossword in record time for shit.”

Carlos laughs and pulls the book back toward him. “I’m observant,” he states.

“When was that one? And since when do you log people you work with?”

“Since always, and I wrote that, like, two months ago.”

“You’re weird, dude.”

He continues until he lands on a page with a blank space. “I have logs for everyone. If Judd’s ever see the light of day, he’ll kill me.”

“I would like to be there when that happens.” Paul starts up his timer again and begins writing in the boxes for fifteen down.

Carlos manages to write down Back corner booth, yellow hoodie before the coffee maker beeps.

[quillsareswords]

1:20

Damian Wayne x reader

SUMMARY: You're lucky you've memorized Robin's schedule: it might me the only saving grace you've got left.

WARNINGS: blood, near-death

Master List in bio

It's 1:20 on a Tuesday morning in early June.

Gotham never really gets hot, but the humidity suffocates anything that might think that's a relief. You didn't check the weather this evening. You probably should have.

It's 1:20 on a Tuesday morning. He's gonna be here. You've had mixed feelings about knowing his schedule this well in the past, but now it's the deciding factor of your fate.

It's 1:20. That means you've been bleeding like a stuck pig for ten straight minutes, even if it feels like it's been hours. Or seconds. You don't really know anymore. You're getting dizzy.

So you've leaned against the wall. Some little roof access point that stands tall above the gravel covering the rooftop. The brick digs into your shoulder, even through your jacket.

You're starting to think you've gotten it wrong. Or maybe he just didn't show today. Maybe you're out of luck this time.

It was dumb. Stupid to think that you could stop this. Stupid to think you would end any way other than alone.

It was on purpose, after all. Isolation, that is. You pushed and shoved everyone away with a friendly smile and kept them at arm's length, lest they wiggle their claws beneath your mask and expose you for every ugly thing you are.

You're a mole. An informant. Someone who plays every side all at once and somehow manages to stay neutral the whole time. You've been passing tips to the Bats for months now, means be damned. Trust was meager between you, but what little there is is mutual.

You'd hoped it'd be your saving grace. Hoped the side playing would leave you with at least one friend, even though it was the entire reason you're in this position in the first place. You had hoped your downfall would save you.

He appears before you two minutes late. 1:22 in the morning and he's late. He doesn't seem to have noticed you, a few feet away, surveying the street below him like it's his job (and it is), with his back to you.

"You're late, Birdy." Your voice comes quieter and rougher than it should, and the force it takes nearly sends you to the ground.

He spins around at the sound, hand already curled around the hilt of his sword by the time he faces you. He says your name lowly, like a warning, like always. His posture relaxes nonetheless. "You come with useful advice, I expect. The skirmish by the docks sounded quick, but Batman thinks–"

"I didn't know where else to go," you say suddenly, because you already know you aren't going to be conscious long enough for this conversation.

The effort gets you this time. Your knees, shaky as they've been, finally give out. You understand, and you forgive them; they carried you all the way here, after all. Your body turns on the way down, back of your jacket scraping terribly against the brick as your heels slide through the gravel. The noise you make is somewhere between a groan and a cry.

It rips the breath out of his lungs. Your name is in his mouth again as he drops to his knees beside you, gloved hands already pawing at the hand you have clamped around the knife still sheathed into your side.

"What happened?" he demands, and he's reaching for his pager with the other hand. "Who did this?"

You're too focused on the way your first name sounds in his voice. There's something nice about the way he spaces the syllables.

He says it again, all panic and worry, like he hasn't the time to mask it anymore.

You wonder for a moment if it has anything to do with his lingering stares and gruff get home safe's.

But then he's shaking your shoulder and you're wincing because it's bruised beneath the jacket.

"Stay awake, hey, stay with me. Batman is on his way. We'll fix this." There's a pause where he's sucking in a deep breath and you're trying to focus on his voice. "You're going to be fine."

You think it's a little funny. You managed to get all the way here, up a goddamn fire escape, but the moment you think he's got you, you lose all ability to keep yourself upright. You just want to sleep. You want to lay down and take a nice, long nap.

You hate to admit that it just might be because you trust him more than anyone else you know. You've only known him for a few months, but you're sure that you're safest with him. You're safe with him.

It shouldn't be much of a comfort, with Death staring you down like a lion on it's last meal. You won't need protecting if your decline doesn't level out soon. It's surprising what such little comfort feels like when you're staring Death down like a gazelle with an attitude problem.

You don't remember being moved. Or how you ended up in a medical bed with stiff, scratchy sheets and a nearly flat pillow. You do remember hearing Damian's voice, fading in and our with your consciousness. The words are all garbled and quiet, but you know the recall the sound.

Alfred is the first person you see. He's unfamiliar, but he introduces himself and offers you a warm smile and a glass of water. He brings you a bowl of soup and hands you a bottle of painkillers and another of antibiotics.

You fall asleep again, listening to some little body of water just outside the white room you're settled in.

When you wake up, it's to the sound of an argument. Batman and Robin. It's hushed, angry and patient whispers back and forth, but it's an argument all the same. You've heard them bicker enough over the last few months to recognize it.

You can't quite make it out. You hear your name a few times, something about time, something about healing, something about help. Batman finishes it.

Robin swings the squeaky door open a few moments later.

He stops halfway into the room when he sees you're awake.

You wiggle your way up the mattress to lean against the pillows behind you. "Birdy."

He sighs. "You nearly bleed out in my arms and that's how you greet me?"

He doesn't sound quite right. A little deflated, maybe. Relieved? As if he'd been holding his breath before he entered the room, and just remembered how to breathe when he caught your eye.

Course, you can't be sure he caught it at all, with those white lenses.

You cock a shoulder. "I'm sure you've seen worse. I'm sure I'll have worse."

His posture shifts as he crosses the room. He shakes his head. "That's not funny."

"It's kind of funny," you try, throwing the best carefree smile you can manage when everything beneath your skin is so sore. "I'm the one who was bleeding, that means I'm allowed to make all the jokes I want."

"That's an unhealthy coping mechanism."

"So is dressing up in red and yellow and calling yourself a bird."

His shoulders drop again. You think you might see a smile, but he turns his head away too quickly. "You should be more careful. I can't always be there to drag you out of every fire, you know."

You cross your arms, raising both knees to take some pressure off of your abdomen. He takes it as an invitation and makes himself comfortable in the chair beside the bed. He finds a comfortable position with a little too much familiarity. "I don't expect you to. I wouldn't have even been there if I wasn't getting information for you."

"For Batman–"

"Potato, pa-tot-oh."

He goes rigid again. "I never would have asked you to put yourself in danger like that."

It's defensive. Appalled, almost. Offended.

You don't know how to reply. That doesn't seem to matter though, because he's not done.

"And even if I had, I would have gone with you. I would have made sure you had backup, I would have– this never would have happened."

There's a certain distain in his tone that catches you off guard. A resentment, toward you or his partner you aren't totally sure.

He runs gloved fingers through slick black hair. Heaves a breath. Pushes himself to his feet. Falsely composed. "You may stay as long as you need. Alfred will take care of you."

"Where are you going?" It slips out before you can stop it. And perhaps you could play if off as a standard question—you are in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people, aside from him—but it's much too quick. It sounds a little too much like don't leave me.

And you know he hears it too, because he turns back around so quickly you wonder if he even considered it. "Patrol. It's Wednesday night." And yet he makes to move to leave.

You nod. "Right. Yeah. You're, uh, what? You're over by the city museum tonight, aren't you?" You want to smack yourself. What are you doing, making small talk? He's got places to be, people to save.

"Yes." The top seal of his mask flexes when he raises an eyebrow.

You nod again. An awkward smile on your lips. "I, uh, I didn't know how to feel about knowing where you'd be most of the week, but I guess I'm glad I do. Saved my skin last night, didn't it?"

He drawls in a deep breath. "Suppose it did."

There's a long pause. You aren't sure if you're breathing, but you're sure he isn't. He looks tense, like he's torn between saying something and leaving, body angled not quite toward you.

"You can always come to me," he says suddenly. He must read something on your face, because he tumbles straight into the next sentence. "Last night, you said you didn't know who to go to. I'm telling you now, you can always come to me. I'll fix it, whatever it is."

His voice is tight. A little unsure, but not in the statement. Like a hiker on a rocky trail; unsure of his footing, but certain in his destination.

There's something else in his words. Something scrawled between the lines in thin, fragile letters. Something deeper than wounds and needing backup.

I'll fix it, whatever it is.

Your heart rate picks up, and the heart monitor reveals your secrets on the screen beside you. What it can't reveal is the way the poor organ soars, throwing itself to the clouds with reckless abandon, completely uncaring of the hard trip back down.

You still don't know how to reply. You'd like to say something witty. A little sarcastic, maybe a smidge mean. He's giving you a glimpse at his heart, beating bloody in his hands, and there's a large part of you that wants to poke it. Nothing too wounding, just enough that he never makes the mistake again.

But you can't help it. There's a much larger part of you that wails, who wants to snatch it from him to shield and cradle, because he obviously can't be trusted with it. Not if he's baring it to you.

The deciding party is the reminder of last night. Dragging yourself up a rusted fire escape, praying to anyone who might listen that he'd be there. That he'd help you. You remember thinking he wouldn't. You remember the thought hanging above you like gravediggers as you settled into a coffin: you pushed everyone away, you don't leave room for those who want to help you.

"Thank you," you attempt, and it comes barely above a whisper. You allow it to be tender. You let it embody the raw little piece of you that utters it; the piece that wants so desperately to let him in. The piece that knew he'd save you. The tender little sliver of soul who still believed you deserved to be trusted and supported. The one who still hopes for meaningful connections, even among your collection of throw-away contacts.

You can see the way he relaxes. The way he melts inside his skin, like he'd been expecting you to poke when you could have. Like it lifts a weight off of him, knowing that you'll trust him enough to come to him in the future.

"I'll be back in a few hours. You should sleep."

You roll your eyes. "Sleep in some weird ass white room I've never been in, surrounded by a bunch if people I barely know. Yeah, I'm sure I'll sleep like a baby."

He recognizes that you aren't entirely serious, but he also recognizes the orange pill bottles on the table beside you. "If Alfred has you on those, I trust you will—no matter where you are."

You chuckle, he offers you the tiniest smile, and then he's gone. Vanished into the rest of whatever strange building he whisked you into.

You should be worried about it. Not knowing where you are, exactly who you're with, who has access to you. But you aren't. And it might be the medication making you compliant, and you'll look back on this in a week and be horrified—or it could be that you've broken all your own rules and thrust all if your trust into the hands of a boy you've never seen without a mask.

[debiteful]

Okay so this one is based on an anon request I got. A particular detail made me uncomfortable, but otherwise the concept was solid. If you want elaboration on my feelings on that, you can ask, but I don't wanna bog down the story with that ramble ^,....,^'

A wereboar discovers a human living beneath their floorboards. This person is in exile and being hunted; to make matters worse a very tough person is hunting this human. The good natured wereboar decides to help the human evade capture.

Content: soft, safe protection vore, panicking prey, willing human prey, boar-human hybrid pred, belly bulge, fearplay, threat/false claim of digestion, regurgitation, comfort afterward

Tuki walked up their front steps, feeling the familiar creak of boards beneath their feet. The bungalow stood alone in a woodland clearing, the perfect place for someone like Tuki to live. Isolated, yet close enough to civilization to get the supplies they needed.

Once inside they let their loaded sack fall to the floor. They knelt and began going through it, sorting the things within; food went to one side while fabric went to the other. Behind them, they heard a rustling noise. Very slowly they stopped rifling through the bag and listened. Their nose twitched and they snuffled curiously while slowly turning their head.

Something was scraping against a floorboard over there. Had to be big, a rat wouldn't sound like that. Maybe a raccoon? Looking around, Tuki could see one of the cabinet doors was open in the kitchen. That little thief!

The homeowner crept across the floor as quietly as they could. Unfortunately, stealth was not their strong suit. Their weight made the floorboards groan with every step.

The rustling went quiet. Tuki bent low and sniffed at the floorboards with little grunts. They had to be getting close. The scent of some creature wafted up; it didn't smell like racoon.

"Hey!" They called gruffly, "Get out here you vermin!"

A soft whimper and hasty scrabbling from below the floor was the only response. Tuki growled and leapt to their feet. In a flash they were out the door and scrambling under the cabin. Leaf litter and dirt kicked up as the creature tried to hurry away. Tuki crawled on their belly, moving arm over arm with surprising speed thanks to bulky muscles.

As the creature became silhouetted by the daylight on the far side of the cabin, its pursuer frowned. That almost looked like a person… 

Tuki stopped and called, "Hey! I won't hurt you. Wait!"

It froze. They could see a head swivel and bob while it tried to get a look at them. They approached slowly.

The creature backed out from under the house, sunlight revealing its form. It was a human! Mud streaked their ashen face and twigs stuck from their unkempt hair at odd angles. They kept taking steps backwards, eyes trained on the crevice where Tuki would emerge.

By the time they were free to stand, the human was halfway to the tree line. They brushed themselves off and stood by the back of the house, "Hey! I said I wouldn't hurt you. You look like you could use some help. I- well I don't like that you stole some food, but you clearly need it. Come inside and I'll help you."

The frail person tilted their head one way, then the other. Big, dark eyes glittered as they considered the offer. They seemed human, but right now they reminded Tuki more of a yearling doe. 

Tuki held out their hand, "Come here! I promise it'll be okay."

They blinked, then approached. Tuki let their arm fall and turned towards the front of the house. They didn't need to look back to sense that the bedraggled human was following a short distance behind.

Inside Tuki was able to heat some water so they could bathe. While they did, the host picked out some of their own clothes that might fit. An oversized shirt made a dress-length tunic for the human. Then they set to cooking up some warm food; they could tell it would do them good.

Over the meal, Tuki managed to gather that his name was Lark, and he was hiding from someone. He was vague about that, as if worried Tuki would change their mind about being so hospitable if they knew. Sensing the reluctance, they didn't press the matter. 

After even this small bit of care, Lark was looking much better than he had been. His cheeks had a warm, healthy glow, and his hair was hanging in loose curls just above his shoulders. He looked a little silly in the large shirt, but at least it was soft and clean.

A loud knock at the door rang through the cabin. Lark jumped and spilled the soup he had been sipping from a bowl. His eyes were wide with alarm, and suddenly his whole body shook.

Tuki stood to answer the door but he darted over and grabbed at their arm. "No! Don't!" He hissed, looking up with pleading eyes.

They frowned down at him, "Why not?"

"They're here for me; they'll hurt me. You gotta hide me somewhere- somewhere they won't find me!"

Their frown deepened and they cast a worried glance around the simple dwelling. The only room besides the main area was their bed and bath room, but that didn't exactly have any hiding places. If he could get back under the floor, then maybe- 

Another flurry of knocks rapped at the door. This time it was accompanied by a warning voice, "Whoever is in there, open up or I'll have to come in myself!"

Lark trembled and clung to Tuki's arm. His wordless plea was all across his face. Their face softened and they whispered, "Do you trust me?"

"I- what? I have to; if you have a plan, then do it!"

Tuki nodded and gently removed him from their arm. The human watched with a creeping dread as before his very eyes his host's shape shifted. Their face elongated, sharp tucks sprouting from between their lips. Their stubble lengthened and hair thinned, becoming thick bristles. Ears lengthened and flopped, and their form filled out their shirt better.

Beady black eyes full of concern gazed at Lark from that monstrous face. His host wasn't human; they were a were-boar! 

He sucked in a shaky breath and fought the urge to turn and run. Filled with desperation, he knew flight was not an option.

He squeaked as their powerful hands grabbed his slight shoulders and lifted him. His feet reflexively kicked a little as they left the floor. Their jaws opened wide, saliva hanging in thick strands that trembled with their hot breath. The humid air washed over his face as he screwed his eyes shut. Terror pricked at his belly and sent his heart racing as he felt a slobbery tongue rise up to greet his face.

Their maw shut around his head and shoulders gently. Even if he wanted to cry out, he couldn't, smothered by wet flesh as they crammed his head down their throat. They swallowed; it was a sickening feeling to have those powerful muscles constrict around him.

He could hardly feel their hands grasp his hips now and heave him deeper in. His legs kicked wildly and he fought for air through the panic and slime. His whole body became completely enveloped in rippling muscle and coated in saliva as he slid downward.

Tuki wiped their mouth with the back of a hairy hand while the other slid down to support their swelling belly. They felt their gut stretch as their hastily gobbled prey slid down and was forced to curl. Their stomach walls were taut and smooth around Lark's quivering form. The bulge of their belly strained against their shirt, making it ride up a little. It wasn't very inconspicuous, but it would have to do. 

They plodded over to the door just as whoever was outside turned the handle. The door swung inward to reveal the would-be intruder, a hulking man carrying a baton in one hand and clutching the short leash of a massive dog in the other. The beast snarled and snapped at Tuki, but they held their ground. The man looked surprised, but a snear took over, "There you are, you dumb brute! You couldn't hear me knocking?"

Armed and with that vicious dog, Tuki knew they couldn't fight. Especially stuffed full like this. They would have to talk their way through this. "I could," they said crossly, "but I was finishing my dinner when you so rudely interrupted."

"I have important business, more important than you stuffing your face, pig."

Tuki narrowed their eyes, "What is it then?"

"I'm on the trail of a dangerous fugitive who is an enemy of the state." At that Lark squirmed inside their belly nervously, but went still as the man continued, "I tracked him here, intending to apprehend him so he can be exiled permanently."

The dog was straining against its tether, sniffing with interest at the threshold. Its master didn't spare it a glance, stone-cold eyes fixed on Tuki and club raised menacingly. They replied, "Well I haven't come across anyone dangerous." 

"He's a sly curr, might not seem dangerous. Have you seen any strangers around here? Heard anything odd?"

"Hmmmm," Tuki said, weighing their options. They scratched at their belly, drawing up the shirt to reveal the rounded bulge sagging over the waist of their pants. "There was this one little fella, big doe eyes. He stole some food from me," the anxious squirms started up again, making their protruding gut wiggle. "So I ate him instead!"

"You what?" The man snarled. Slowly his gaze drifted down to their taut stomach, and horror crept into his eyes at seeing it move. He looked back at Tuki with disgust, "You ate a man?"

"Hardly a man," they shrugged, "More of a vermin. I'm not too picky though," they said with a smirk.

Seemingly at a loss for words, he just gaped at the wereboars belly for a while. Then he looked past them, into the house, "I'm going to have a look around, just in case." 

"You won't find much," Tuki gloated, patting their belly. A burp rumbled up and escaped loudly. The dog sniffed the air then bayed and reared up to investigate their snout. They laughed and the man dragged it away and into the house by its leash.

Tuki kept a wary eye on the two invaders while they leaned against the threshold. Lark still hadn't settled down, his body writhing within the flexible limits of the stomach. Little muffled grunts could barely be heard above the gurgling fluids shifting around him.

The dog barked with savage excitement as it found Lark's dirty clothes. The wash water had already been drained away, leaving little explanation. The man hooked the tattered clothes with a finger and brought them to Tuki, "Whats this? Is it yours?"

"No, you're welcome to it. I took those filthy rags off that human before I devoured him. I have some standards," they huffed. 

The man eyed their still moving gut, "You ate him alive?"

"Of course! Killing is so messy, I don't like to do it in the house. Besides," they leaned in with a ghoulish grin, "I like to feel them squirm as I digest."

Lark flailed as best he could within the cramped confines, but the real reward was the brief widening of the intruder's eyes at that comment. He scowled, "Can't you spit him up? I have a job to do."

Offended, Tuki leaned back, "What? And waste a perfectly good meal? No, you were too slow. He's mine now. Besides, it's not like he's going anywhere. Just tell your master you did it; how're they gonna know any different?"

He considered, then trudged past the wereboar, hauling his dog along, "Fine. But if I get in trouble, don't think I won't send someone after your hide too!" 

"I expect nothing less from a scoundrel like you."

He froze and clenched his cudgel. Tuki dearly hoped he wouldn't try to use it. Thankfully, that was the case, and he stomped off without another word.

Tuki shut the door and locked the bolt into place, just in case. They went over to their chair and sat down heavily. Their belly bumped against their legs as Lark continued to wriggle frantically. His whining could be heard by Tuki, and their heart lurched. The poor creature must be terrified. If only they had had more time to explain.

They got up and hurried to get a towel, then went to their bedroom and stood infront of the bed. They heaved, and with great effort Lark slid up and out of their stomach. He landed on the towel laid out to catch him and lay there shivering. Before he could scramble away, Tuki shifted back to their human form and bundled him up in the towel. He fought against the warm folds of cloth weakly before realizing he wasn't in danger. The wereboar sat on the bed and cradled the swaddled human in their lap, using a corner of the towel to wipe his face and hair. 

He looked up with wide, tearful eyes, "You…." He couldn't find the words.

They hugged him tightly then gave an apologetic stare, "You're quite the mess, again. I didn't know what else to do. He would've found you if I hadn't-"

He cut them off, "I know. I know. It's just- the things you said, they were terrifying. Especially from, well, in there," his eyes flicked meaningfully to their belly.

They nodded and continued to clean him up carefully. He relaxed into their hold, inhaling the fresh air deeply.

Neither of them spoke. Both of their minds independently wandered to the same, simple question: what next? Neither of them had the answer right now.

[littlemrcaprisun]

Team Dimitrescu || Lady Dimitrescu x Ready {NSFW}

{This is for and thanks to @gayllamafromspace and @themagnacarla for the prompt and workshopping/brainstorming}

{Also it’s spicy}

Alcina always knew she would end up killing him. She just didn’t think it would be over something quite… ridiculous. It all started a month ago when Heisenburg thought it would be hilarious to bring a box set of the human “Twilight” films. Everyone sat down, ready to hate them, and ready to quit watching halfway through the first movie. You knew that the movies were pretty silly but you were still pretty excited to curl up with Alcina on the elaborate sofa for even just a little bit. But two days later they had torn through all five of the movies with a disgusted intrigue that shocked all of them, especially Alcina. The girls wouldn’t shut up about Team Edward or Team Jacob, Heisenburg kept insisting that werewolves weren’t creepy and don’t even imprint at all. Alcina really thought she was going to lose it, and you were stuck watching the chaos unfold. 

Then came the books. When they found out the movies were based on books of course everyone had to get their very own set. You even got on board with this, seeing as you had never read the books when they were popular, and why not join the book club? You were always looking for some way to bond with your new weird family. Alcina refuses to get involved, she won’t even touch the books as though they would burn her skin with a mere graze. Every time she passes by any of you reading you catch her rolling her eyes and turning her chin up towards the ceiling. So dramatic. 

The girls and Heisenburg finish reading before you do, impressively, and you think it must be some sort of supernatural reading ability… or just the ability to focus. They have a meeting everyday to discuss the books for hours, a meeting you’re not invited to.

“You haven’t finished the books, therefore you cannot discuss them with us.” Sofia states sternly when you try to sit around the table with them.

“Yeah but I’m half way through them, I can at least listen.” You reason, desperately hoping this will work but knowing it will fail. Dani comes over and sighs.

“Listen, why don’t you go make out with Mother or something. She much prefers your company.” She gives you a little shove backwards out of the room. Alina, as usual, comes to your rescue and offers a warm reassurance.

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you up later. I’m sure we won’t talk about a lot today. It usually just ends up with Uncle H yelling about how wrong the werewolves are.” Alina soothes. How is she different from her sisters and mother?

“Hey! It’s true! These guys seem like creeps.” He declares from the table behind them. You swallow the lump in your throat, hold your head up high and nod. You won’t let them beat you down anymore.

“Yeah it’s no problem. Don’t want to hear you shit talk something I enjoy anyway.” You turn and head down the hall, as you leave you hear them murmuring about you. 

“Why does your mother keep it around?” He whispers.

“It must taste good or lay well.” Sofia responds, less hushed. Dani laughs and Alina shushes her.

You continue walking toward the library where you gather your book and journal, unsure if you can continue reading after that. You don’t see much point in it now, without anyone to discuss it with. You meander back to your bedroom and let out a sad sigh when you don’t find Alcina there. It isn’t common for her to be there at this time but you were just hoping for something good.

You curl up alone in your massive bed and continue reading. You’re trying not to gag on the sickly sweet dialogue and the choppy narrative when you hear the door open, your heart soars. Swooping in with her big hat and white dress, Lady Dimitrescu arrives in her towering glory. You push up your glasses and give her a once over. She looks divine. 

“God, you’re reading that cursed book. And you’re wearing those pathetic glasses to do so.” She scoffs and makes her way to her personal wine storage kept in the room.

“Lovely to see you too, dearest, my day wasn’t great thanks for asking.” You give her the most sarcasm you can muster before returning to the book. She stops pouring the second glass of wine to look over her shoulder at you.

“What happened? The girls?” You hate the way she knows it’s them. It is always them. You give her a hum as a response which earns you a growl. She glides over to the bed and sets your glass of wine, blood free, on your night stand before making her way to the vanity. “I have had many talks with them and reprimanded them many times. I simply think you will have to try harder to get along, they are not easy to manage.”

You don’t give her a response, you don’t even look up at her from your book, which infuriates her. She loves the way you watch her nighttime ritual with pure adoration in your eyes, but now these insufferable books are ruining everything.

“At least drink your damn wine.” She grumbles, as a passing statement, full of jealousy. How dare something so useless take your full attention away from her? “Or perhaps put down that fucking book.”

This makes you raise a brow. She never uses such strong language, she’s too much of a lady for that, so she must be fed up with this. You keep reading out of spite. Suddenly, she’s on the bed next to you, the smell of her intoxicating you and making you want to give in so bad, but you keep reading. You’re going to make her beg for a change.

“Y/n, if you don’t put the book down…” She’s trying hard to steady her breathing and stay calm. You can’t help but think that it’s kind of cute that she's so desperate for your attention. However, she takes cute to the next level in a split second when she’s suddenly on top of you. The book is smashed into your chest, the hard corners and sharp edges digging into your skin, but completely forgotten. You stare up into her dark eyes and know that she thinks she’s winning. You can’t let that happen.

You wiggle until your arms are free and replace the book in front of your face, but you aren’t really reading anymore. You can hear her teeth grinding together from the other side of it. She wants no part in the game you're playing even though she knows she’ll win. You both know she’ll win, but it’s oh so fun to make her squirm. But soon you’re the one whose squirming as her hand makes its way under your shirt, cold skin making you shiver and sigh but you hold out. She’s playing dirty now.

She teases you until you can’t feel your nipples anymore she still doesn’t remove her hand, knowing she can overstimulate you easily from here. She’s watching your face from over the top of the book, waiting for resignation but when she doesn’t find it her hand wanders lower. She isn’t gentle, not tonight. Tonight isn’t really about you, it’s about her getting you back. She makes quick work of cutting away your pants and underwear with her elongated nail. You fucking hate those things sometimes. 

There’s no slow build up or sweet foreplay, she goes straight for your clit, catching you completely off guard. You moan loudly and press the book against your face for just a moment before you remember this is not how you’re going to lose. You refuse to lose even as her fingers work hard and faster and drive her higher up the wall. You refuse to lose as she roughly slip one, then two, then - fuck - three fingers inside you. 

You forget what game you’re playing when you throw the book on the floor as soon as she pulls you into an oblivion of pleasure. As soon as you come back to earth she starts to pull out of you but you grab her wrist, trying to keep her hand inside of you, but she jerks it away. 

“Ah, ah. This wasn’t for you. This was for me. I wanted my baby back so I got my baby back.” She says very matter of factly as she presses her used fingers to your lips. You accept them into your mouth and clean them with your tongue, full attention on her. “Much better.” She smiles, much calmer and genuinely happy.

“Now, whose team are you on?” She asks, allowing you to speak around your fingers.

“Team Dimitrescu.” 

[raindownforme]

Crush

Charlie Slimecicle x Reader [she/her used]

It had been hours since y/n had started her stream. At the beginning of it she’d been working on the origins SMP and grinding at gathering supplies and resources while everyone else was off doing other things. A few times someone had popped onto the VC she sat in, Niki had talked while eating dinner and Ranboo had came to recount his day, but otherwise she had remained alone in the beginning.

But it had been several hours since then. Now it was 3 going on 4 in the morning. She sat curled up on her gaming chair, her eyelids just barely staying open. She was exhausted, but she was determined to stay awake until someone else started streaming. To pass the time, y/n had been interacting with chat and reading aloud donations.

“Hello?” A voice came through her headphones and she jumped, nearly falling out of her seat. “y/n?”

“Oh! Philza!” He chuckled a bit. Her voice sounded light and she began to yawn halfway through her sentence. “How nice to see you. What are you doing up?”

“Well it’s roughly noon for me and I was about to start streaming.”

“Ah. Of course.” She began to tap at some buttons, readying to move around her audience.

“Have you been awake for long?”

“Yeah. But I had a few people visit me.” As the notification of Phil going live dropped, she sent everyone over with a wave. “Niki and Ran came by.”

“Aw you sound disappointed.”

“Well I wanted somebody to come by but I guess he was too busy.”

Philza laughed again. “Yeah? And who’s somebody?”

In her stupor she giggled and winked towards a camera that wasn’t on anymore. “I can’t tell you who I have a crush on.”

The man froze, watching his chat go by a mile a minute. They kept throwing names around, even if they didn’t make sense, and he knew this wouldn’t end up any where good if it progressed. “Is it alright if we talk about this later? Why don’t you get some sleep.”

She yawned and stretched. She slowly went to get out of her chair. “Alright dad. Goodnight. I love you.”

“Love you too.” The discord call made the familiar noise of someone disconnecting and y/n turned off her display. She went and slunk into her bed, nesting underneath the covers, and quickly drifted to sleep.

———

y/n woke up a few hours later. As she sat up the first thing she did was reach for her phone to see a missed call from Ranboo. She went to call back and he picked up almost immediately.

“You are so dumb.”

She groaned and wiped at the sleep in her eyes. “Can I be awake for five minutes first.”

“No actually. You’re trending on Twitter.”

She squinted, trying to recall anything. “Did I do something bad? Was it last night or....?”

“It wasn’t like. Bad. But it was last night. You told Phil on live that you have a crush on someone.”

She paused, feeling her face grow warm with embarrassment. “Did I say who it was?”

“No you didn’t.” She sighed and felt herself relax a bit. “But they’re trying to figure it out. You didn’t make it very hard.”

“Well I didn’t say a name.”

“Yeah so you let them pick from the six men your age who have been on this server. Like I said you’re dumb.”

She sat up and got out of her bed, letting Ranboo sit next to her on speaker. She went to her desk and booted up her computer. She pulled up twitch on one monitor and Twitter on another. Loading up the streaming site, she sorted through all of us Phil’s new clips to look for last night. She found it quickly and began playing it.

“Have you been awake long?”

“Yeah. But I had a few people come visit me.... Niki and Ran came by.”

“Aw you sound disappointed.”

“Well I wanted somebody to come by but I guess he was too busy.”

Philza’s laugh echoed through her monitor’s speakers. “Yeah? And who’s that somebody?”

“I can’t tell you who I have a crush on.”

The clip ended with Philza glancing wide eyed between the camera and his computer monitors. y/n sighed and looked over at her other monitor. Her twitch name was trending. She clicked on the tag and scrolled through countless tweets of clips of her and other boys from the Origins SMP. There were ones of her and Jack, her and Charlie, her and Wilbur, her and Sneeg, and even her and Tommy or Tubbo. She took the time to respond to ones of her and the younger boys, emphasizing that if anyone was going to speculate anything it wasn’t going to be with her and children.

“Ran, what do I do?”

“Ignore it? It’s not like you have an actual crush on any one right?”

She paused, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Ran..”

“Oh! Oh my god!” He started laughing and y/n could hear him fall from his chair onto the floor. He kept laughing as he got up. “Oh please tell me who it is-“

“No! I’m an adult! I don’t have crushes on boys.”

“Oh that is fake!” He kept laughing and y/n rested her head in her hands. “You know you might as well tell me who it is.”

“Yeah fucking right.”

“I’ll black mail you.”

“No you won’t!”

“I’ll show Tubbo your number and he’ll leak it.”

“To who.”

“The discord.”

y/n rolled her eyes. “Yeah yeah yeah. When are you getting on.”

“An hour-ish.”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Alright byeeeeeee.”

Ranboo ended the call and y/n sighed. If she told Ranboo who she liked, he’d eventually tell Tubbo, who’d eventually tell Tommy, until he told someone and so on so forth. They were teenage boys. It wasn’t a very lucrative group. And Tommy seemed to record with Charlie almost every week. It seemed impossible to get by without disrupting something.

y/n went on to busy herself around her home for the next hour or so, doing some cleaning and other chores that had to be done. When she finished, she made her way to her pc to begin recording. She wasn’t planning on a live stream today, but a recording session would still do her channel good.

As she sat to boot up Mojang, she pulled up discord on her second monitor. She saw the kids already in a call; Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo.

“Hey boys.” She slipped on her headphones as she entered the call, but they were all yelling.

“DON’T YELL AT ME.”

“I’L YELL AT WHOEVER I WANT WHEN I KNOW I’M RIGHT.”

“ARE YOU TOMMY? ARE YOU RIGHT?”

“Hi y/n.” Both boys stopped yelling as Tubbo pointed out that she had arrived. “Ranboo’s live by the way.”

“Thanks Tubbo. Are you guys on origins?”

“Yep!”

“Great, I’ll be on in a sec.” As she opened the world, she spawned somewhere she didn’t remember. It was dark around her, like she was swallowed by obsidian. “Uhhh, boys? I might be stuck.”

“I told you! I told you I was right! Chat tell Ranboo he’s an idiot!” Tommy started yelling again as Ranboo tried to tell him to shut up.

“That doesn’t explain why I’m surrounded by obsidian. I don’t have a pick!”

“Well, y/n,” she looked over to her discord call to see all the boys had their cameras on now. They all sat with their hands crossed while wearing sunglasses. Ranboo had his full mask on. Meaning he probably had camera on for his stream. Tubbo cleared his throat as he kept talking. “We have some questions for you.”

“If I answer can I get out of here?”

“If you answer honestly.” Ranboo leaned forwards a bit. “You told Philza Minecraft you had a crush on someone, correct?”

“Yeah. Sure. Might I add you’re all immature?”

“Is this crush, a man? Hmm?” Tommy tipped his sunglasses downwards slightly.

“Yes. How many more questions?”

“You’re not done. Is it someone on this server?”

“Does that matter Tubbo?”

“YES.” All the boys shouted in unison.

“Jeez fine. He has played on multiple servers, this could be one of them.”

Tommy slammed his fist on his desk. “HONESTY.”

“YES. HE IS.”

Ranboo gave a fake evil chuckle. “So it’s someone we know. A man we know. A gamer we know. One of us.”

“Yeah yeah.” y/n quickly pulled up twitch on her third monitor, making sure that he wasn’t watching Ranboo’s stream.

“Now y/n. I’m muted on my stream right now. Is it Wilbur?”

“Uhh…” He was there. He was watching the stream. Whatever she answered, he’d know.

“Wilbur! It’s Wilbur!” The boys started cheering as she realized that she didn’t quite answer. But as long as Charlie didn’t know the truth.

“Yeah. Can I come out now?” She watched charlie’s name disappear from the chat. In her game, Ranboo’s character came over to set her free from the obsidian.

“Thank you for your honesty.”

“Yeah no worries. I’ll see you later boys.” She logged out of the server and scooted away from the monitors. She knew she made a bigger problem for herself.

She walked over to her bedside table, taking her phone off the charge, and went to face time Wilbur. He picked up quickly, holding the phone extremely close to his face.

“y/n!”

“Are you streaming?”

“No not at the moment.”

“Great because I fucked something up.”

“Oooooh tell me.” Wilbur propped up his phone in front of him and took a drink of something in a mug.

“So the children- did you see the clip from Phil’s stream?”

“Absolutely. Continue.”

“They went and cornered me into telling who my crush is. And they said you and I was distracted so they assumed you-“

“Is it me?”

“No fuck off. But now everyone thinks it’s you and even worse, the actual person was watching! He thinks I have a crush on you and I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

Wilbur nodded. “Well who is?”

y/n pursed her lips, thinking for a moment before admitting the truth out loud for the first time. “Charlie.”

Wilbur froze, then scrambled to pick up his phone. “I have to go.”

“WILBUR NO.”

The line went dead from Wilbur’s end and y/n groaned, chucking her phone against her pillows. She rubbed at her eyes with her palms, deciding she might as well continue recording.

y/n logged back onto the Origins server, keeping herself out of the active discord calls. She could see that the three boys were still in a call, and Wilbur was talking with Philza. She rolled her shoulders back, getting into the mindset to record.

“Hey everybody!” y/n went on start the recording, talking mostly to herself about finishing construction on her house. It was quite a tall house, built of mostly stone and cobble, but she was still proud of it. The bottom two floors were reserved for storage and mining, and there was one room of entirely water for Niki. The top floor was a large spread patio frames in by dark oak fencing with a glass roof surrounded by dark oak half slabs. Her being a skeleton in the game, having a vantage point helped her snipe enemy mobs. It was also conviennent for attacking creepers to get music discs. She had quite the collection growing already.

“Okay so if I-“ y/n paused, looking over at her other monitor. In the main chat of the Origins SMP server, Wilbur had a sent a singular message.

WilburSoot: dress formally for an event in 2 hours time hosted at the Pubé

y/n took a breath, a bit nervous of what that meant, but still responded to let him know she would be there. In the meantime, she continued on her video, taking the 2 hour period to build herself a lovely garden area and an additional storage area deep underground.

“Thank you everyone! I hope to see you all soon.” She ended the recording and took a breath. There were 15 minutes until Wilbur’s event, and she supposed she had to dress nicer than her pajamas.

A moment later, she returned to her computer wearing her favorite sweater and a comfortable pair of pants. Looking over at discord, she could see most of the Origins SMP members in a discord call together, excluding only Schlatt, Technoblade, and SMajor. She took a breath, thinking for a moment, then clicked into the call.

“Hello?”

“y/n!!!” Jack’s voice screamed through her headphones.

“Sorry he’s a bit loud.”

“OI. AM NOT.”

“Come down mate.” Philza cleared his throat. “y/n. Lovely to have you.”

“Thanks Phil.”

“Before we start, no one’s live at all.”

She paused cueing up the game, her mouse hovering over the server. “Before we start what?”

No one answered. Quietly, she entered the server and made her way to the Pubé.

“Welcome to event of the century.” Ranboo’s character jumped up and down. Every one stood in the Pubé facing her.

“Alright. And what kind of event is this?”

“A ball! With food and drink provided by Philza and music provided by Tommy.” Wilbur’s character ran over to the jukebox in the corner to show her.

“That’s lovely, Will. Was I supposed to be more dressed up?”

“I think you’re perfect as is.” Charlie’s character jumped up and down. She paused, trying to swallow the giddy feeling rising in her chest.

“Let’s begin! Tommy, the music?” Wilbur turned the the teen as he placed the music discs. y/n watched everyone pair off, leaving her and Wilbur alone. Wilbur walked over to her, hitting her playfully.

“Hey Wilbur.” y/n looked over as the two went into a separate call.

“y/n!!! How are you doing? Enjoying the party?”

“Well I haven’t been here very long.” She held her hands closed over her lap. “Wilbur, I feel like there’s something going on here.”

“It’ll be fine. Trust me?”

She sighed, a smile playing at her lips. “Fine.”

“Good.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Maybe dance around a bit. I’m going to talk with Phil.”

They both left the chat, Wilbur entering a call of just him and Philza and y/n entering the main room. The music was still playing. Everyone seemed to have split off into groups, leaving her alone. She sat by herself, watching everyone mingle about. It was only her in the main call, leaving everyone else in groups, but it was nice. She turned her head to watch her second monitor, seeing Charlie move out of the call with Wilbur and Philza to the main room with herself.

“H-Hey there.” She watched Charlie’s small character bounce over to her. “How’s it hangin?”

“Oh. Uhm. Good I guess. It’s nice to see you back on the server.”

“Yeah I guess I haven’t played in a while. I mean I haven’t streamed that much either but I’ve been recording.”

“That’s nice!”

“Yeah. I mean I’ve been able to watch other streams though.”

y/n thought back Ranboo’s stream earlier in the day, knowing full well Charlie had been watching that one. “Right.”

“We don’t have to talk about it. I mean I know how you feel.”

“Oh. Oh no please tell me Wilbur didn’t say anything.” y/n rubbed at her forehead with the heel of her palms. Convincing the internet she was in love with Wilbur Soot had been a problem in its own, but Wilbur telling Charlie she had a crush on him? “Look Charlie I’m sorry I didn’t want him to tell you it’s just- god you’re so nice and funny and really cute and it’s a stupid crush I never wanted to ruin our friendship. I’m so sorry Charlie.”

The other end of the call was quiet for a moment, but then she head Charlie almost laugh. “You have a crush on me?”

The realization washed over like a tsunami. He’d been talking about the stream, Wilbur hadn’t said anything. “God no wait Charlie-“

“On me? You have a crush on me?”

“Okay now you’re just rubbing it in. I take it back.”

“You can’t take that back!”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you to.”

y/n paused, a smile creeping on her face. “Are you telling me that you have a crush on me over a Minecraft server?”

“You said it first!”

She glanced over at the camera on her computer for a moment. “We could have avoided this the whole time?”

“I- yeah we could’ve.”

y/n giggled, resting her face in her hands. “Is this our first date then?

“No!” She could hear Charlie suck in a breath. “I mean, let me take you somewhere better. Just give me a few days?”

“Days? That’s speedy isn’t it?”

“Okay Maybe weeks. But I’ll take you somewhere. Anywhere. Trust me.”

“Of course.”

She could hear Charlie laugh on the other end of the call. “Until then, how much time do we have to make up for?”

She smiled, settling herself into her chair. “Charlie, more than you could ever think.”

[kawaiijohn]

Rewind, Rinse, Repeat Chapter 1

For Invisobang Minibang 2021

Ao3 Link

Chapters: 3 finished, 12 total Rating: T+ Warnings: Major and Minor Character Death- all temporary, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Strong Language, Mild Body Horror, Mild Injury. Other warnings listed by chapter Characters: Clockwork, Danny Fenton, Pariah Dark, Levi | Leviathan (OC), Mal (OC), Observants, Mentions of other characters Ships: Lost Time, Dark Ages, CW & OC child, CW & Levi | Leviathan (OC) Genre/Tropes: Human AU, Magic AU, Found Family, Character Origin, Hurt/Comfort, Original Magic System and Lore Additional Tags: Existentialism & Existential Angst, Memory Loss & Amnesia, Corruption, Clockwork Centric, They/Them Pronouns for Clockwork, The Fenton's A+ Parenting, Obersvant Bashing

Summary

“Clockwork can I ask you something? How did you become a ghost?”

The tale surrounding the mystery of Clockwork's existence; a world where magic is common and ghosts are not. A world where one lonely, average mage tries with all their might to save what means most to them. A world where things need to be remade into something better.

Shout out to my betas @bibliophilea and @moonlights-shadow-warrior for keeping me sane, @13thdoodle for letting me use their OC, Levi, @dailudannos and @sailor-toni for providing art for later chapters, and all the folks over at @invisobang for being awesome!!!!

Chapter One below the Cut. The rest is available on my Ao3 account because tumblr linking/posting is hella broken.

Chapter 1: An Inquiry

“Hey, Clockwork? Can I ask you something?”

Clockwork looks over from the mirror they were watching intently.  “You already have, Daniel,” they reply, offering the other a smirk.

“Oh, ha ha.  You've never said that to me before.”  The reply is filled to the brim with sarcasm, as per usual.  Danny rolls his eyes, but a small smile gracing his lips betrays the fact he isn't annoyed in the least.  “Seriously, though.  It’s something that's been on my mind like... every day for the last two weeks!!"  He raises his hands towards the sky, flopping back in the air dramatically.  "But... it's kinda, y'know.  Personal-”  Danny trails off, slightly embarrassed.

Of course.  Clockwork finds themself smiling fondly- Danny thought he’d said something he shouldn't have- an inquiry that could make his guardian upset (as if it's even possible to upset Clockwork like that).  A question is a question, and this is a worrying habit of his that the Time Master is trying to help break, even if it's still somewhat endearing to them.

“I uh, I mean... it’s personal about- to you, not to me. That’s what I meant!!” Danny continued.

Clockwork stares at him, unblinking.  An idea (or thousands) of what he may ask flashes through their mind’s eye.  With a single, calming pulse to their Core, Clockwork pushes the involuntary slideshow of timelines aside as if they're no more than curtains.  They need to focus on the window in front of them; the here and now, not the temporal drapery.

It's a habit they are trying to overcome for Daniel’s sake.  To ensure their ward's growth, they need to stop peering into the near future as often- not discourage his asking of questions.  After all, what is a child if not but a well of endless curiosity?  Cutting Danny off is also sure to disallow the development of any trust or patience Clockwork needs to build within their young ward.  They wouldn’t receive either of those things if they assume what he wanted to ask.

It's common decency to not assume, lest it ‘make an ass out of you and me’, according to Daniel.

It is going to be a tough habit to break, but by the (other) Ancients, they're trying their best.  Their ward deserves the infinitesimal choices all other children have when asking things of their guardians, so even if they do glimpse to the future, they will not mention it to him.  Clockwork refuses and will continue to refuse to take their ward’s agency away; to not have a choice in things is a fate worse than fading.

The boy has been quiet, stuck deep within his own thoughts even after an impressive five minutes and thirty-seven and a half seconds of silence (uncharacteristic of the boy, Clockwork notes).

Now that just won't do- he must have lost his train of thought.  Clockwork gestures at the ghost boy, motioning for him to continue.  It works- Danny adverting his eyes and clearing his throat, "Well, it’s just like- you know so much about me- like, how I died, the whole Ghost Zone Prince business, that entire disaster doomed timeline with Dan... I just keep thinking- no- realizing, that I barely know anything about you!!”  He throws his arms up in thinly veiled frustration.

Clockwork smirks. “You had another question, did you not?”  They place a hand along the edge of the closest Temporal Mirror, turning to face the mirror- still halfway facing Danny.  They can see his inner debate clearly written on the boy's face- the mirror reflecting as if it were an ordinary object (for now).  They turn towards it fully and watch Daniel's reaction from behind them, acting as if they aren't finding joy in their ward's hesitation.  It's always adorable when he tries not to offend Clockwork. "I may be able to work with time, but that doesn't mean I wish to float here waiting for an answer all day."

Danny blinks a few times, rolling his eyes again in response.  Clockwork is certain that if they weren’t secured to his skull by human musculature they’d fall out and roll away.  “Well, I’m sorry for trying not to be rude and like, asking outright... but since it’s you I have to always be super direct!!  Jeeze you’re frustrating sometimes!”  He floats towards his mentor, crossing his arms.

Danny often forgets Clockwork isn't easily upset over trivial things such as questions.  Most questions are about things they already know the answers to, anyways.  And the few things that they don’t know when asked, they figure out soon after.  Such is the duty of the Master of Time- to be a step ahead of everyone and everything else always.  Besides, in most timelines (68.3% of them, to round up) the question Daniel wishes to ask is along the lines of ‘What was your past like?’ Another small fraction (a little under 20%) the question is ‘How did you get so strong?’ .  And even in the remaining timelines, the question would be along the lines of ‘How do your time powers work?’

They are each things Clockwork expects Daniel to ask them at some point or other, as it were.  There isn’t really anything Daniel can ask that could be too shockin-

“Clockwork, I was wondering… how exactly did you become a ghost?”

They... did not see that coming… in any of the timelines they’d glimpsed.  Clockwork stills for only a fraction of a moment, but it’s long enough for Danny to flinch, feeling as if he’s crossed a line.  They hear more than see Daniel shrinking in on himself as they look off into nothing, buried memories waking slowly in their mind.

Clockwork is brought from their introspection by a mumbled curse.  “Shit!  I mean... uh crap??"   They just stare at Danny as they are brought back to the present.  "Never mind just... sorry for asking...  Oh man!  Did I offend you somehow?  Ancients dammit, this is what I was worried about!!”  They watch him curiously, soft whirring coming from their ward's anxious core.  “We can just forget about it if-”  Daniel’s hands wring together nervously, shoulders tense with worry and face full of guilt.

Right- facial expressions are also important for a young ghost's emotional communication and development.  Sometimes the Time Master wonders if their isolation in Long Now affected their social behavior (it did).  Their face is carefully blank most times, so they set to fix it- they offer a small grin, hand coming to rest on Daniel’s shoulder.  “It is more than fine, Daniel.  You asked if you could ask a question- which is in fact, two questions, I should note- but I gave you consent to ask it of me.”  They squeeze his shoulder to placate the worry.

“It’s about time I told you this story, as it were.  I just did not foresee it being told at this very moment."  Clockwork floats slowly, turning away from their Mirrors.  "Come along- it’s best we sit for this.  I’ll have one of your friends bring us some tea.”

Danny floats after his mentor, looking around the room the two normally use to study history of the Realms.  “So, uh… is it a long story or...?”

“Oh, it is very long, indeed.”  They fly through an ornate door and over to their favored 'chair'- a stack of comfortable cushions in violets and blues, both impossibly cool and warm at the same time.  They recall Daniel discovering the room, eyes full of wonder and posture relaxed.  Clockwork chuckles- the first time their boy had wandered in here he'd decided to take a running dive into the pile, jumping up in surprise when it was cold as ice, yet warm as fresh laundry.  The expression on their ward’s face is one of their fondest memories; a happy moment amongst all the tedium of watching time.

“It may take a while to tell this tale proper. But, it is a story that ought to be told.”  Daniel makes himself comfortable on his chair of choice- an unholy combination of 'borrowed' pillows and what appears to be a more modern gaming chair- complete with an obnoxiously bright green-black color scheme.  Clockwork has to hide another smile as Danny wiggles himself deep into the pile.  “So, Daniel- what do you know of the phrase ‘Totems of Power’?”

“I thought I was getting a story, not a pop quiz!  Unfair!!”  His disdain for schooling makes Clockwork laugh fondly before the boy continues.  “But they’re like… hmm how do I explain this?  Well, there’s the universe right?  Like every timeline and every result of every timeline all at the same time kind of ties into the main universe thingy- but there's still a main timeline, and that's kinda like... Main Street, and the other possible timelines are uh... like side streets with dead ends?  But there's other forces that like, aren't time and… uhhh...”

He hums, crossing his arms deep in thought.  Clockwork takes the time to purr-sing-hum at one of the many blobs floating in and out of their lair; Daniel had asked them to keep some around as pets and the Time Master was happy to oblige.  They were unable to deny something so beneficial to the young Prince, after all.  The one deemed ‘Mr. Pants’ by one of Daniel’s friends answers their call.  Clockwork buzzes to it a quiet request- ‘bring Daniel's favorite tea and mugs for two, please.’  The little thing chirrups and zips off through the walls- eager to serve the Lair’s owner and be (potentially) rewarded with pats (from Daniel).

The Time Master brings their undivided attention back toward a grumbling ghost boy, lost in thought.  “Daniel if you need to ask for help I’m glad to-”

Danny snaps his fingers, coming to a realization before his mentor can finish.  “I got it!!  The best way to explain it is ‘The Universe needs to run smoothly, so there’s certain forces- like Time or Space- that are upheld by a powerful entity, like a person or like… the avatar of that concept?  Yeah, something like that, but they ensure the aspect they represent is properly cared for so the universe doesn’t completely like, die.’”  Danny nods to himself.  "It's why you stepped in to stop Dan, to make sure the world didn't end like that."

“That is correct- it is my job to ensure this universe of ghosts and reality doesn't crumble prematurely.  Now, do you have a recollection of any other Totems you may have encountered?”

“Well, yeah!  We call them ‘Ancients’, though- so like… Pandora is the one for war and history, and Nocturn is for like… dreams?  The Void or something, maybe?  And then there’s old man Pariah who isn’t one, but he said there’s a Leadership Ancient somewhere, and then-”  Danny pauses, blinking at Clockwork in realization.  “Wait, you asked that for a reason, didn’t you?”

“That I did.  Becoming the Totem, or Ancient of Time is where this story starts.”  Clockwork hums, seeing Mr. Pants fly back towards the two- nearly spilling scalding tea all over the ground.  “Now then.  We have drinks.  We are sitting comfortably.  I believe it’s time I spin my tale for you.”  They take a sip, closing their eyes in bliss.

They open them once more and see Daniel sitting, eyes full of stars and eager- Eager to hear, eager to fire off a question a minute.  It makes a chuckle bubble up in their throat, to see their favorite person so excited to learn.

“Once upon a time, there was a human; average in most ways, a simple person living a simple life.  They would get up in the morning, perform their daily tasks, and go to sleep at night.  Day in, and day out- a boring, but fulfilling existence.

“However, where this story differs from what we recognize as reality, is that in this realm, humans who could control magic were the norm.  Think as if it were like one of those fantasy games you and Tucker play together- mages, healers… all of those and more were commonplace when I was alive.  Yes, humans can wield magic now, but it is nowhere near as frequent as they could in our tale.”

They pause, seeing that Danny was about to interrupt.  “Wait wait- this realm?  Like- this is a completely different reality?? And people can wield magic now???  Are you messing with me?  Like… I thought it was all just-”  The boy stops, his train of thought drifting off the tracks as it tends to now and then.

“Yes, first, this is a completely different realm from either the Mortal Plane or the Ghost Zone.  Second, Daniel- tell me... have you not noticed the magic of those you have encountered?  Blood blossoms… a reality warping gauntlet?  The existence that is ‘Freakshow’ in general should be a red flag, seeing as his talents were… strangely non-ghostly in origin.  Not to mention objects such as the Infi-map...”

“Man, I wish I could forget about Freakshow… who mind controls ghosts???  He was the worst!” Their young ward crossed his arms and grumbles.

“If you’re done sulking about your past misadventures and former foes, I was in the middle of telling a story, if I recall correctly.  One you asked I tell you…”  Clockwork simply stares, unblinking as steam wafts from their slowly cooling tea.

All is well, they knew Danny would only take approximately 4.85 seconds to snap his attention back to their story.  Clockwork sips their tea, waiting.

Danny snaps out of his thoughts only a millisecond off of Clockwork's prediction. “Sorry... it’s just super weird to think that magic actually… still exists?  Like ghosts are real and all but magic being a thing feels a bit far fetched, don’t ya think?”  He pouts, brow furrowed.

The Master of Time finally closes their eyes, removing the hood from their head.  White hair floats gracefully behind them, settling just past their shoulders.   Clockwork opens their eyes again- a serious, yet warm expression directed at their ward.  “Magic is simply defined as reality altering acts using both energy and the willpower of a sentient being, if that helps.”  Another sip.  Mr. Pants made a wonderful batch of tea, as always.  They smile wider when they notice Danny’s expression- the boy has never seen them without a hood, and they know doing this will (in 99.78% of all possible timelines) convince the boy to take what they said seriously.   ”Just as ghosts can be defined as ‘ectoplasm given form and consciousness’, forces beyond humanity and the physical realm can be explained with scientific terminology if you know where to look.”

“So like... what all did magic have to do with this ‘simple human’ version of you?  Did you ever have the power to shoot lightning??  Could I shoot lightning if I tried?  Like were you some sorta time wizard?  Is that why you’re all… timey-wimey and powerful?”  Danny wiggles his fingers with a look of confusion on his face.

Clockwork always finds their Core warming when their boy acts his age.  He's abnormally prone to shoulder the destiny of the world on himself and often forgets he's just a kid.  “You could continue asking questions one at a time, or you could allow me to tell my story.  The choice is yours, Daniel.”  They smirk, watching as Danny purses his lips, his steady flow of questions stopping short.  The best answer.  “Perfect- all is as I thought it would be.”

They close their eyes and reminisce as they continue.  “Now- to answer your last question… Yes.  You could say magic is how I came to be the Master of Time in both the Infinite Realms and the mortal plane, but there is much more to the story than that.  Other players, situations, and pure circumstances.  The universe in its infinite chances and possibilities brought myself, as well as many others to the situations they face here and now.”  Clockwork pauses, taking the moment to stare straight through Danny’s soul.  “Even yourself.”

The boy shudders, an appropriate response.  “Wait... me?  Did you… do something in the past to like… a past version of someone we know??  Can that even happen???”  Danny is already enraptured by the story, eyes twinkling as his mentor opens up about themself.  The boy is obviously thinking about everything that has happened, everything that could possibly have happened, and everything that Clockwork could possibly drop on him.

They feel Daniel cautiously tug on loose strands of time to see if he could possibly scope out what is about to be said, quickly failing to do much else beside give himself a small headache.  “Time stuff is still really confusing, Clockwork…”

“You could say that.  You could even say that trying to mess with time in the inner sanctum of Long Now is the most confusing ‘time stuff’ one could do if they were not myself.”  They grin- a Temporal Mirror appearing behind them with a thought.

“What’s the mirror for?”  Danny catches sight of himself and looks away, embarrassed that he’s been literally glowing with power after trying to do something so simple with his developing powers.  The glow is something he’s been working on suppressing recently.  After all, it would be a shame if other ghosts could see the boy powering up by aura alone.

The Master of Time smirks, bringing tea to their lips again.  “I thought it would be fun to attempt braiding my hair and doing my makeup for once.  It has been an awfully long time since I’ve done either.”

They stare at Danny who just bursts into laughter.  “Did you just use sarcasm???  Man, I didn’t know you could lighten up, Clockwork!”  The boy laughs harder, sinking deeper into his nest of pillows.  After a few minutes he was finally wiping tears from his eyes.  “But no.  Seriously… what’s the mirror for??”

“Why, what they are always for, Daniel- seeing through time and space.”  Clockwork waves their hand.  The mirrors show an image of a human with dark hair and burgundy eyes.  They have a large, hooked nose and medium brown skin- and Danny finds himself having a hard time guessing their gender.  The human sits at a desk, paused in time with the delicate gears of a clock sprawled along the desk surface, tools in hand.

Behind Clockwork, the image changes, showing the human living through an average day- images play in small spurts, never showing the whole story.  “Do you understand what’s being seen?”  The young boy nods, grabbing Mr. Pants out of the air as the blob drifts between the two.  Good, he will probably need the companionship, especially towards the end.

This isn’t the easiest story to tell, nor is it easy to listen to, but with a sip of their tea, Clockwork continues.

[forever-rogue]

I’m so excited that your doing these requests!🥳 could you please do prompt 36 from prompt list 1 with javier please, think I would cry😂💖 Thankyoux

Oh, okay, I see what you’re doing to me here! 🥺😌 Enjoy!

Prompt: 36. “Does he know about the baby?”

Javi x Fem!Reader ; warnings: language, pregnancy

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

You knocked on Connie and Steve’s door, hesitating for just a moment before opening once you heard her call to you. As soon as you walked into the Murphy’s place, you were overwhelmed with the smell of her delicious cooking. You grinned as you walked in, following the smell of the percolating coffee. 

“Good morning,” you grinned at Steve who was setting the table. He looked up and smiled, offering you a small wave. You were just about in the kitchen when you felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around your waist before you were held against a strong chest. His smell immediately overwhelmed your senses as he pressed a few kisses to your bare shoulder; you’d purposely worn a sundress, one you knew he loved just to tease him a little...and for one other very specific purpose - but he wasn’t privy to that just yet, “good morning, Javier.”

“Good morning to you, Dulzura,” he whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek, “you had to wear that little dress, didn’t you? You drive me crazy sometimes.”

“Hmmm,” you mused as you hastily pulled out of his grasp before turning to face him and pressing a kiss to his lips, “maybe I like to mess with you...maybe I just really like this dress.”

“You are…” his hands his found purchase on your hips as he gave them a gentle squeeze, kissing along your jaw before stopping at the shell of your ear, his warm breath tickling you, “an absolute little -”

“Hi babe!” Connie beamed when she stuck her head out from the kitchen, her smile stretching from ear to ear, “so glad you made it! Do you mind giving me a hand real quick with finishing up? Javi - let the poor thing breath for a moment.”

Javi sighed dramatically before hanging his head; but you didn’t let him down that easily, instead putting a few fingers under his chin and turning his face up so you could kiss him properly. He instantly lit up at your touch, those soft brown eyes crinkling in the corners as his dimple made its appearance, “te amo, Javier. Now go and help Steve or something. I’m all yours after brunch anyway.”

“Fine,” he pouted as you pushed him in Steve’s direction. You watched him go with a laugh before joining Connie in the kitchen. She just smirked at you, handing you a bowl of fresh fruit to cut up.

The two of you fell into easy conversation, and you thoroughly enjoyed her company. But as you kept chopping away at the fruit, your stomach started to churn more and more with each slice of your knife. When you were halfway through cutting up the mango, you couldn’t handle it anymore and practically threw down the knife as you dashed towards the bathroom. You almost kicked the door open as you got onto your knees and heaved up the contents of your stomach. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. You sighed at yourself when you were all done, wiping at the corners of your mouth. You’d thought you’d gotten over this part by now, hoping that it wouldn’t rear its ugly head again - especially not in front of your friends and boyfriend. No - the morning sickness should have been done by now.  

“Dulzura?” Javier stepped into the small bathroom and shut the door behind him, immediately dropping to his knees next to you. Flushing the toilet, you turned to him and put on the most innocent face you could. He grabbed your face gently in his hands, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he studied you intently, “what happened? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Javi,” you promised him softly as you put your hands on his wrists and gave them a gentle squeeze. Although you were sure that the average person would have easily believed your little lie, Javier was no average man and he was able to easily see through your white lie. You sighed heavily before pulling his hands from your face and moving to stand up, “please don’t worry about me, it’s probably something I ate.”

“I do worry,” he insisted, just as firmly, as you turned on the tap and stuck your head under it to swish your mouth with water, “it’s my job-”

“Your job is to be my boyfriend,” you spit out the cold water, “and to trust me when I say everything is fine. One little upset stomach is nothing to worry about, Javier Peña. You have enough to worry about, don’t worry about this one too.”

“Fine,” he held up his hands in defeat, but you could tell that he wasn’t going to let this one go; for now probably, but forever, “but-"

"If it happens again, you'll be the first to know mi amor," you promised him, "now go and finish up with Steve and I'll finish the fruit."

Javier gave your hand a squeeze before slowly making his way out of the bathroom, with you quickly following on his kneel. Before he walked back over to Steve while you rejoined Connie in the kitchen.

She'd taken it upon herself to finish cutting up the fruit, but a knowing little look was on her face. You walked back over without saying a word, fully intending on not mentioning a word, but just like Javier, Connie was sharp and perceptive and wouldn't let it go. You'd surrounded yourself with a particular type of person and right now you were regretting intensely.

"Does he know about the baby?" she whispered under her breath as you stilled in your motions. Your breath hitched in your throat as you slowly met her eyes, wanting to cry at the little smirk on her face.

"I-I-I…don't know what you're talking about," you lied lamely, more so wondering if she would go along with what you were saying or call your bluff.

"Honey," she gave you an almost pitying look, "you just had a bout of morning sickness and you're starting to show. I've seen the old dress trick tons of times."

"How did you know that's what it was?" you asked in a rushed whisper. She was a nurse...of course she'd know.

"Randomly throwing up at the smell of food? And it's not the first time - it's happened not infrequently over the past two months," she stated as you groaned, "just because those two are oblivious, doesn't mean I am."

"Fine," you hissed quietly, making sure that Javier and Steve weren't paying attention, "how can you tell I'm showing?! I thought it wasn't...obvious yet."

"Not to the untrained eye," she admitted, "I'm guessing you just started to pop? You've been wearing looser clothes lately… I'm guessing...16 weeks?"

"14 weeks...shit Con," you sighed softly, "I...I've been too obvious! I haven't...I haven't told Javier! I haven't found the right time and I've been so nervous and I-I-I...just I'm scared, Con. What if…"

"No what ifs, honey," she said softly as she put her arm around and pulled you into a hug, "you need to tell Javier. He deserves to know...and I know you're scared, but you know how much he loves you and this won't change anything. You've turned Javier into the best version of him - he adores you. But you have to tell him...besides you're not going to be able to hide it much longer…"

"Fuck!" you whined softly.

"Just tell him," she stated firmly, "you have to tell Javier."

"Tell me what?" Javier and his impeccable timing struck again as he walked into the kitchen and grinned at the two of you. You exchanged a nervous look with her before turning back to him.

"How much I love you," you swallowed nervously before grinning at him with the best smile you could muster up, "which is a lot whole, mi amor."

He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off with a kiss. Javier made a small sound but said nothing, instead giving you another kiss. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

"What's wrong, Dulzura?" Javier asked as he pulled you into his lap; you had stiffened immediately upon his touch. As soon as you'd gotten back to his apartment, he was all over you, his touch was like fire and he was all consuming. It had been easy to get lost in his touch, the feel of his lips on yours,  his large hands roaming your body. 

But as soon as he had led you back to his bedroom and he flopped down on the bed and pulled you into him - sheer panic set in.

"N-nothing," you lied as you stood up and took a step back. A look of confusion crossed his features as you tried to keep it together, "just tired…"

"Okay," he sighed softly before running a hand over his face, "what the hell is going on? You've been acting off all day…"

"Nothing…"

"Dulzura."

"Javier, you're worrying over nothing again."

"You won't even let me touch you," he sighed lightly, "if you don't want me to let me know. We don't have to do anything…"

"I do, Javier...I'm just tired."

"Bullshit…"

"Javi…"

"You can tell me anything, Dulzura. I love you, you know that."

"I-"

"Anything at all."

"I-"

"Nothing will ever change that I love you."

"I'm pregnant."

It came out as an almost shout as you finally plucked up the courage to just say it. Javier's jaw dropped as he immediately looked at your stomach and then back at your face. A million different emotions flickered over his features as he tried to figure out what was happening. 

Oh, he'd heard you - he just couldn't come to terms with it.

"What?" he said softly as he met your eyes. His eyes were glossy as he tried to figure out if it was true, "Dulzura...what did you say?"

"I...I...I'm pregnant," you whispered softly, your own eyes starting to prick and burn. Slowly, you reached for the hem of your dress, pulling it up as gently as you watched his reaction. He sucked in his breath as he watched your stomach become revealed to him. It was small, still barely evident, but it was there - the sweetest of bumps, "I...I should have told you sooner, Javier. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

"Why are you sorry?" his eyes were practically twinkling as his lips trembled slightly. He stood up and came over, a hand gingerly going to your stomach as he paused to see if you would stop. But you didn't - you let him put his hand on your belly before putting your own on top of his, "our baby...how far…"

"14 weeks," you said nervously as he nodded, trying to keep it together and not completely lose his mind, "I found out about 6 weeks ago and I-I-I panicked so much and I kept trying to figure out the perfect time to tell you and I keep not. I'm so sorry for that, Javier. You deserved to know sooner...and I completely understand if you don't want...anything to do with me or the baby."

"Why would you think I wouldn't want anything to do with…" he paused as he looked up and met your eyes, his free hand moving to your cheek, as you keened in to his touch, "did you think I was going to be mad...leave?"

"No," you admitted honestly, "I just didn't know what you'd...think. I'm scared and nervous and I didn't know what to do, and I just kept not telling you. And we didn't plan for a baby, I mean...its a mess."

"I love you," he whispered before kissing your forehead, "and - fuck - a few years ago I didn't think I'd ever love someone again or be in this situation. And now...I'm scared, don't get me wrong, absolutely terrified. But I am...I'm excited. This is...you...I love you."

"I'm scared too," your lips trembled, but in a quick measure of reassurance, he pressed a kiss to your lips in a sweet, gentle manner, "its a baby, Javier. What if-"

"Dulzura," he whispered softly, "I know there are a ton of things to think about - but I promise you this - it will be okay, we will be okay. I'm not going anywhere and I will protect you and the baby, and fuck - I'm happy. Scared but happy."

"Yeah?" you asked softly, not hesitating to throw your arms around his neck and holding him tightly, "I love you, Javier. More than you will ever know."

"I love you too," he kissed the crown of your head as he gently rubbed your back in soothing circles. He held you silently for some time, letting you get your soft cries, these ones not of worry or sadness but nervous happiness out, "can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"How did I never...notice? What if I hadn't found out and you'd gotten bigger?" he chuckled warmly as you snorted with laughter.

"Well, I've been keeping the lights off," you reminded him and he made a sound of 'oh yeah', "and this little bit just seemed to pop out the last few days...I don't know...I guess I would have blamed...bloating?"

"You are too much," he laughed as you gave him a sheepish look, "do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Next time, just tell me as soon as you know," he insisted gently, "I...I want this - to be a part of this - and to experience it all with you."

"Next time?" you quirked an eyebrow gently, "you presume there's a next time?"

"Maybe…" he grinned with a cheeky smirk, "but seriously, Dulzura - I'm happy, scared, but happy. And I love you, always."

"I love you too," you promised, "con todo."

"I know," he whispered, "now - will you let me show you how much?"

"Javier…"

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[nerdzzone]

Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.

Chris Evans x OFC

Note: Thank you to everyone who has read, liked or commented on this story! I appreciate the support. 

This was the entirety of my original plot, it was just supposed to be a one shot when I started writing it, but it took on a life of it’s own. There’s quite a bit more to come now so I hope no one is too disappointed by the way this ends! I’ve started working on the sequel and have it all mapped out, but I probably won’t post it until it’s mostly finished like I did with this one. So, keep your eyes peeled and please let me know your thoughts!

Part Two

—-

Part Three

26. 12. 19

Waking up, it took a few moments for the memories of the night before to come back to me. When they did, I was filled with relief that I was alone and Chris was no where to be seen. My head throbbed, partially from the alcohol I'd consumed and partially because of the regrets that were filling my mind.

How could we be so stupid? So reckless? How could we risk everything that we'd built for Grayson just for a few moments of relief? How would I be able to push my feelings for Chris aside again after sharing such intimacy with him?

It broke my heart to make the decision to be friends the first time we found ourselves in this situation, how could I be foolish enough to put myself through that again?

I turned my head and groaned into the pillow, a much more distressed, melancholy groan than the ones leaving my lips the night before. I felt like an idiot and I was dreading facing Chris.

After taking another moment to chastise myself for my bad choices, I checked my phone to see the time and was shocked. It was already almost nine thirty and I hadn't heard a peep from the rest of the house. Unfortunately, that meant I didn't have time to mope around in bed, puzzling out what to do.

So, I took just enough time to decide that I needed to make a quick exit before getting up to get myself ready to leave.

 -

  When I got to the kitchen, it was surprisingly quiet. None of the men or children were anywhere to be seen as Lisa, Shanna and Carly tidied up the dishes from the breakfast that I'd missed. Apparently, there was another snow storm forecast to start by the early afternoon and everyone had headed out into the snow as soon as they'd finished eating to start shovelling so that we could all leave before it hit.

I was relieved by their quick action because even if I had to shovel the whole driveway by myself and then drive home in a blizzard, I was not sticking around for another night.

Lisa had tried to convince me to let her cook me breakfast, but my stomach was in too many knots to even think about food. I politely declined and settled for a banana and a cup of coffee, chatting with the women as I ate. It distracted me for a while as I tried to shut off some of the noise in my brain, but once I was finished, I knew I had to face the music and head outside.

By the time I got out there, Chris, Scott and their brother-in-law were already halfway down the driveway which was an impressive feat considering how long it was. I waved to them as I put my bag in my car before heading towards where the children were playing in the front yard.

"Mama!" Grayson cheered as I approached them. "Look! We're building a snowman!"

I looked at the sloppy pile of snow they were assembling and smiled.

"Wow, I can see that! Great job, guys!"

He grinned as he ran over to me and threw his arms around my legs. It was a feeling that never got old and I leaned down to squeeze him closer, trying to ignore the wave of guilt that washed over me. He was the most important thing in our situation and we'd lost sight of that.

"Can you help us?"

"Of course," I nodded. "But I need to go talk to your daddy real quick, okay? Then I'll be right back."

"Okay!"

With that, Grayson bolted back over to his cousins to continue their little project. They were so good with him, including him in their games and activities despite his young age and I was happy that he had such good role models to play with. Leaving them under Dodger's watchful eye, I took a deep breath and headed down the driveway to Chris.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Scott shouted over, the first to notice me coming their way. "Thanks for getting up so early to help us shovel the driveway."

I laughed at his sarcasm and stuck out my tongue, but when he shot me a knowing wink, I felt my cheeks burn. Of course Chris would tell him. I should have expected it, they were as close as brothers could be and Chris was always open with his family.

But it just made me feel worse about the conversation I was about to have as I went over to Chris. Luckily, he was on the opposite side of the driveway to the other two. At least that would give us a modicum of privacy.

"Hey, good morning," he grinned. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," I returned his smile, though mine was much more forced. "Thanks for letting me sleep in."

"Grayson wanted to wake you up at breakfast," he admitted, looking over at our son as he spoke. "He was worried that you'd be hungry when you woke up and there would be no more food left."

I couldn’t help, but laugh at the thought of his concern.

"He's too sweet, but I appreciate you stopping him," I admitted. "I guess I was tired out after last night."

"Last night," Chris smirked. "Last night was..."

He trailed off as he tried to think of a word to describe it, but my smile disappeared entirely as I could tell from the look on his face that we weren't reflecting on our little incident in the same way. So, I beat him to the punch.

"Last night was a mistake."

My words hung between us for a moment and I knew, from the way that his jaw dropped slightly as if I'd just slapped him across the face, that he wasn't happy with what I'd said.

"Oh, don't give me that crap!" He protested once my words had sunk in, keeping his voice low enough that no one would be able to overhear. "You're saying that it meant nothing to you?"

I really wished we weren't outside with so many watchful eyes around, but this conversation needed to be had and at least this way I'd have an excuse to keep things brief.

"I'm saying that it shouldn't have happened," I clarified, my voice wavering slightly as I questioned my own confidence in my words. "We've worked hard to keep things as stable as possible for Grayson and that's what we need to stay focused on."

"So, you just want to pretend that it never happened?"

My heart felt like it was in a vice. I didn't want to pretend it never happened. I wanted to be with Chris, I wanted us to give it a shot, but I knew that it wouldn't work. I was nothing compared to the women that Chris usually dated and when it all fell apart, Grayson would be the one stuck in the middle. It wasn't fair to him.

But that knowledge didn't make it any less painful when I nodded my head.

"I think that's for the best."

Chris scoffed, looking down at the snow as if he couldn't even stand to look at me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to run away or cry and throw myself into his arms so I settled for simply standing there quietly, waiting for him to say something.

It felt like an eternity, but after a minute or two of total silence, he finally spoke.

"Just let me make sure that I'm getting this right," he started, looking back up at me with such an intensity that it made my eyes swim with tears. “You really have no feelings for me at all? Because if you feel even a little bit like I do then you couldn’t possibly think you’re making any sense right now.”

I swallowed hard, trying to come to terms with the situation that I found myself in. A situation where Chris could be standing in front of me, telling me that he had feelings for me after all these years that we’d been determined to be just friends. It would have felt like a cruel joke if there wasn’t so much hurt in his eyes, so much fear that I was about to reject him. Fear that proved to be entirely justified when I finally got my emotions under control enough to answer him.

"It doesn't matter," I told him softly. "It's not about what I feel or what you feel. We have someone more important to consider."

“That's bullshit!"

I flinched at the harshness of his words and his raised voice as Scott shouted over a reminder about language as the kids weren't very far away. I could feel the tears still filling my eyes, but I knew I had to stick to my guns.

"It's not bullshit," I insisted. "It's the right thing to do."

"But you said yourself, he's starting to notice that things are different," Chris pointed out, his voice thankfully much softer than it had been moments ago . "Why not take the chance to give him a normal family if that's what we both want anyway?"

"Because it will hurt him more if it doesn't work out."

"Hurt him?" Chris questioned, his scowl deepening. "Or hurt you?"

Both of us. 

The truth was that I was worried that Chris would hurt me just as much as I worried that our decision would hurt Grayson, but I could handle the risk to myself if it was my choice. I couldn't handle our son being collateral damage.

I could feel Chris' gaze locked intently on me, but I couldn't lift my eyes to meet his. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold onto my argument when the decision I was making wasn't even what I truly wanted. I needed this conversation to end before I let my guard down and made anymore stupid choices.

"We can't talk about this here, Chris."

"Well, when will we talk about it then?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I need to think."

Chris shook his head as a sigh fell from his lips. He looked defeated.

"Alright."

I took that as an end to the conversation and turned to walk away, but I'd only made it a few steps when Chris called out to me again.

"I care about you, Whitney," he told me as I looked back over my shoulder. "This wasn't nothing to me. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to make this work."

That only made me feel worse as I had done it without such noble intentions and with doubt still plaguing my mind. I felt cowardly, but I couldn't bring myself to answer him as I looked away and continued on my way back towards our son.

 -

  I stayed outside, playing with the kids in the snow, until the driveway was clear. Once my car was free, I scooped Grayson up and said my goodbyes.

"Be good for your dad, okay?"

"Okay, Mama!" He smiled, pressing a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek. "I love you!"

"I love you too, buddy. I'll see you in a few days."

I put him down and waved as he ran back to follow his cousins who were heading inside. 

Turning back to my car, I  wasn’t entirely surprised to see Chris leaning against the hood. However, I was surprised to see that the scowl that had been firmly on his face since we talked had eased somewhat and I was even more surprised when he pulled me into a hug as soon as I was close enough.

"Drive safe," he warned me. "The roads still look pretty bad."

"I will," I nodded, easing myself out of his grip. "And I'm sorry, Chris. I really am."

"Don't sweat it." He shrugged, but the dejected look on his face did little to assure me that he accepted my apology.  "We'll talk soon though, right?"

I nodded and stepped back, moving to get into my car as Chris moved away from the hood.

He stayed there on the driveway, watching me as I turned the car around and waving as I drove off until he was out of sight.

I felt exhausted and heavy. There were tears brewing in my eyes as I turned onto the road, just as they had been when I drove these streets on Christmas Eve as I was taking Grayson to dad's house and thinking I would be spending the holidays alone. It was amazing to me how I managed to escape the sad, bleak Christmas that I had been anticipating at that point, and yet still somehow managed to come away feeling just as lonely.

And it was amazing to me that I ever let myself think that raising a child with Chris Evans wouldn't be emotionally draining as long as we weren't in a relationship. At this point, it seemed to just make things harder, but I knew that one day both of them would thank me for the sacrifice I was making right now.

I knew that it was the right decision for all three of us and one little slip up, one lapse in judgment and will power, wouldn't derail all the hard work that Chris and I had put in to co-parenting our son.

Or, at least, I hoped with all my heart that it wouldn't.

[wrathandgreed]

(I hope requests are still open) So ive been thinking. How about the brothers reaction to MC taking a large step away from them when ever one of them raises their hand up. It could be as simple as a high five. MC used to be in a abusive relationship and is paranoid about getting hit

Note: (For the record, I don’t know if you sent me this on purpose - I’ve never done requests; I’ve literally just put out my very first OM headcanons. But I figured I could try. I’ve never been in an abusive relationship, but a number of my friends have. I really hope I can do this one respect - if anything about this is not on the level, please let me know! Also, if I missed a trigger warning in the tags, or tagged this wrong, let me know. Also, for the record, I tend to like soft!Brothers and I really wanted them to try and be better - not put the onus on MC to “get over it” or anything.)

Second note: After writing this, I’m not sure that most of these guys would be a good choice for an abuse survivor! 

Third note: I am NOT good at keeping things short and, as usual, I went overboard with Asmodeus. Like, it should be its own fic at this point. But write what you want to read, right?

Warnings: references to domestic abuse, both physical and verbal. References to suicide baiting. Uncensored swearing.

~5K words

Lucifer

A strange choice; his perfectionism and exacting behavior sometimes make you remember how it was back in the human world; everything had to be JUST SO….or else.

And he’s threatened to kill you. Twice.

But there’s something inherently decent about him - and you live for the rare moments he laughs.

His perfectionism usually isn’t even about you, so you just kind of….ignore it.

You’re doing some of your RAD homework in Lucifer’s study.

It’s quiet there.

And, while he won’t do the work for you, he’ll definitely help when you’re stuck.

Also you can give him tea and soothing when he (inevitably)  gets upset at his paperwork - Mammon’s bills, Asmo’s bills, Satan’s bills (hey, dark magic books are expensive).

You start hearing the shifting and muttering that herald the beginning of the rant.

You gather the tea and walk towards his desk.

“Devil’s sake!” Lucifer suddenly snaps out, slamming hand on his desk as he reads yet another ridiculous piece of paper.

It’s not at you, the anger isn’t at you, you KNOW it’s not at you, but you freeze anyway.

Slammed hands on desks, punched holes in walls, hands on you, always hands - 

The cup of tea hits the floor and you’re out of the room before Lucifer can even look up.

He’s seen it all in your paperwork - the police reports, the restraining order, the lists of injuries - so he puts it all together before his study door closes behind you.

He knows better than to go after you immediately. You’ll want some solitude, some quiet on your own, to steady yourself a little.

If he goes after you now, it might frighten you more. Looks like hunting.

You need to know he’s calm, that he’s not acting or reacting out of emotion.

He takes his time cleaning up the spilled tea, straightening his papers.

When he shows up at your room, he has a mug of hot chocolate.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before he can say anything. You made a mess in his study, and he’s such a stickler for everything being neat. He was angry before, but he’ll be even more angry now.

“No, I’m sorry,” he returns, and offers you the chocolate.

(You blink once. Has the Avatar of Pride ever apologized before? If so, it was never in your hearing.)

The two of you talk quietly for a time. He insists that you don’t need to apologize - ever. He insists that, while he appreciates the tea-and-break routine, it’s 100% not your responsibility to control his anger. It’s his. He says that his anger isn’t good for him anyway (just look at Satan) and he needs to take a break when that hot feeling starts. 

Maybe he should start scheduling breaks; setting timers on his D.D.D. so that he no longer works long enough at once to let it all get to him.

He doesn’t want you afraid of him.

Mammon

Mammon is pretty much the only demon who HASN’T threatened your life. He often sounds irritated, but he’s never even sounded angry at you.

If anything, he’s a mush and an abuse victim himself. So he gets where you’re coming from, and tries really hard.

So you shouldn’t be afraid of him.

But….he moves too quickly. He’s constantly jumping from one idea to another, one topic to another, one emotion to another. And that’s just emotionally.

You can’t trust where his hands will be. Ever. And that’s not a sex thing.

Sometimes, his protection of you makes you feel safe. If anyone hurts you, Mammon will hurt them a thousand times worse.

He’s funny, and his hands on you are gentle, and once you tell him about your past, he tries really hard not to go back to his “stupid human” habit, because it hurts your feelings.

But sometimes, his protection feels like obsession. Why were you talking to that guy? C’mere, you’re MY human.

Then, inevitably, the tug on your hand or arm or waist, pulling you closer.

It starts simply enough.

You’re playing video games in his room. He’s not as much of a gamer as Levi, but he enjoys them.

Especially ones where you can be competitive or drive cars really fast.

He’s been getting more and more excited, coiled like a spring. And it’s from enjoyment, not anger, but that level of energy, in your experience, explodes at some point.

You get quieter, but that only makes him more boisterous. He wants you to join in the fun! C’mon MC, did you see that?! It was awesome!

After a really impressive win, he shouts in triumph and suddenly his hand is in front of your face for a high-five.

You recoil and hit the floor, crab-crawling backwards before you can stop yourself.

His look of complete confusion, in different circumstances, might be funny. He actually looks at his hand like he doesn’t recognize it.

He drops to the floor too, “Babe? What’s wrong? Y’okay?” And he reaches out a hand towards you.

When you flinch, he gets it.

He sits on the floor, stuttering out apologies, not even finishing one sentence before starting another. He makes sure he’s cross-legged, leaning back on his hands - non threatening, leaning away, hands not hidden, but not prominent, and in a position it would take him time to move from. 

When you start crying, he can’t maintain that pose and crawls towards you, pulling you into a hug.

If you resist, you know he’ll let you go. And that’s why you just curl into him instead, crying out on his shoulder while he holds you close - but not tightly.

“I jus’ need ya to talk to me….let me know if I’m gettin’ to be too much. I know I’m loud. Just….. jus’ remind me, I’ll never be mad.”

Leviathan

Boy already has anger problems.

Envy’s kind of prone to it, you know?

On the one hand, he literally attacked you over a piece of TSL memorabilia.

On the other, he’s generally harmless the rest of the time.

He’s meek and shy and terrified of touching you - so, 95% of the time, you feel super safe with him.

When you wake with a nightmare, when something jump-starts your fear response, he talks you through it, easily abandoning whatever game or anime he’s involved in.

He’ll only touch you when you ask, or when you reach for him first.

But then there’s the MMOs.

You know you should leave when he starts getting mad. Not in a victim-blame sense, but for your own mental health it’s probably not a good idea to be around him when he raids.

He ALWAYS gets mad.

You’re sitting in his room, so involved in your handheld that you forget it’s his raiding night.

(Usually you make study plans with Satan, or shopping plans with Asmo on his raiding nights. You don’t want him to give them up; he enjoys them, but it’s not good for you to be around.)

After finally completing a tough level, you pop your headphones off just in time to hear Levi swear loudly.

You go still as a string of swear-filled trash talk fills the room. Things you’d never expect shy, needy Levi to say. 

You know it really is just trash-talk - the threats of violence are just too absurd. Rip off their arms and use their own fingers to bowl their skull like a bowling ball? Really?

Also this is LEVI. Levi? The demon who needed you to taunt Mammon about his credit card because he couldn’t do it himself? He might be Admiral of Hell’s Navy and all, but he’s not exactly threatening.

You get to your feet, a little shaken but ready to just walk out of the room. It’s raid night, and this is why you don’t hang out on raid nights. You’re not comfortable around other people’s anger.

You’re halfway across the room when Levi suddenly shouts in frustration and throws his controller on the floor.

And you’re out the door.

Levi just glimpses you as he’s reaching to pick up his miraculously-unshattered controller from the floor.

“Henry?” He calls out, just a second too late.

With only one moment of hesitation, he logs out of his raid and goes to follow you.

You had less than ten seconds head start, but it takes him almost twenty minutes to find you, sitting out in the garden, gazing at nothing.

“MC?” He calls quietly. He doesn’t want to sneak up on you.

A single blink, and the tiniest flash of fear - he left his game to follow you. 

Calculation: extreme concern - or extreme anger. 

Conclusion: Undetermined.

So you wait.

“Are you ok?”

Okay, so not mad. “Aren’t you raiding?” You ask, instead of answering. You’re not ok, but you’re also not in the mood to talk about it.

“I, uh, h-had a, uh, power outage?” Even he doesn’t sound convinced, and you snort. Levi only has three modes: simple, stuttering, and verbose. Thankfully he goes with simple. “You ran out. I was worried.”

You debate brushing his concern off, but he deserves better than that.

“I’m not good with anger. Even if it’s not directed at me.”

“Oh.” Levi pauses as he considers. He knows the basics of what’s happened. “I - I mean, I could, you know, NOT - “

“No,” you say quickly and lean in to kiss his cheek. “You don’t have to change anything. Do your raids, make stupid threats to stupid players. Just….warn me to leave first?”

Levi nods, but he skips the rest of his raid to stargaze with you in the garden, arms wrapped around you from behind as he points out different Devildom stars and constellations to you. You get a lecture on how Devildom stars are used in Devildom sailing. It’s actually kind of interesting.

Satan

Okay, seriously? The Avatar of Wrath? Author speaking here, I literally can’t picture a worse combination than an MC who’s still recovering from domestic abuse to date the AVATAR OF WRATH.

Like, yeah, he has good control over himself, but he also loses his temper in a moment’s notice.

He has CANONICALLY tortured people for calling him strange.

He flips out with no warning and destroys parts of the house and his brothers just let him do it because he’s too powerful to control when he rages.

I can absolutely see MC falling for the quiet intelligence, the consideration, and so forth, but witnessing one (1) single rage should be enough to tell them that this relationship won’t be good for their mental health.

Let’s not even talk about the (again, canonical) desire for domination, power play, pet play, etc, that kind of defines our boy.

I mean, I love Satan. Out of all the bros, he’s the only one I could imagine legit dating in real life.

But I’m a little ball of rage myself, and I have no problem with anger, mine or anyone else’s.

And the fandom (including me) can totally play cute and love on their “soft little angy boi” all they want, and he definitely has soft, sensitive sides, and I may actively choose to ignore the whole domination/power play/etc when I fic or headcanon because I really love soft!Satan….. but he’s not.

I can’t even make a headcanon, because I cannot picture a situation in which this is actually GOOD for MC.

Because no matter how hard he’ll try and control it, and how much his rage probably won’t be directed at them, I just keep picturing “It won’t happen again” except it will, and it’ll just wind up being flashbacks to the number of times “It won’t happen again” ended in black eyes or an ER visit back in the human world.

And MC walking on eggshells for eternity to avoid setting him off, and how is that healthy?

Asmodeus

Another decent choice for MC, at least on the surface.

King of consent over here, at least how I picture him. Especially for someone he cares about.

Always accepts “no” about literally anything. Don’t want sex? We’ll cuddle. Cuddling a little confining? Holding hands is cool. Really don’t want to be touched at all right now? Gossip and tea! 

You were coming to really care about the Avatar of Lust, and you believed what Simeon said about him - how much he desperately needed love and affection. You got it; you needed some, too. 

I mean, even if he’d been a bit of a jerk, he’d warmed up significantly since the pact, so new that it still burned on your skin, was formed.

But even Asmodeus wasn’t without faults. However much he focuses on love, he can sometimes, really be….mean.

You’re standing on a balcony in Diavolo’s castle, having escaped for a few moments.

He’d always been catty, gossipy, filled with drama, but the genuine affection and likability of him sometimes made you ignore it.

His constant mocking of Luke you could put down to the whole angel/demon conflict. 

His occasional snapping or poking at his brothers you could put down to being stuck in the same house with the same people for literal eons.

The only thing that might make up for your awful existence is if you just ended it.

The words haunt you as you stand looking up at Devildom’s endless nighttime.

How many times did you hear similar words yourself? How useless you were, how much of a burden, no way you’d survive on your own without him, and he didn’t even want you that much. Why didn’t you just go kill yourself?

Dammit, you think to yourself as Asmo steps out on to the balcony.

“Darling! Why are you out here all alone? Or are you waiting for some company?”

When he goes to put his arms around you, you just say “no.” Simply, quietly, emotionlessly.

Asmo circles around to look at you. “Something wrong, sweetness?”

You take a breath. Another. You consider swallowing it, again, don’t want to start a fight. Back down, put on a smile, ignore it.

But realize you can’t. You spent years dealing with this crap, and you’re not going to do it again.

“You’re mean, Azzy.” Your voice is quieter than you expected. You look up into the demon’s eyes. To his credit, he looks deeply confused and, as you take a step away from him, hurt. Before he can open his mouth, you continue, “How could you say that to Mammon?”

“Are you defending MAMMON?” He asks, torn between incredulity and anger.

“Right now? Yes. But also Luke, Lucifer, and everyone else you talk shit to. Or about. He’s your brother. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to hear that out of someone you love?”

Dismissively, “Oh, if it actually bothered him, he’d - “

“What? Beat you up? That’s not like him. So he takes it. And takes it, and takes it, until, because it’s all he hears, he believes it. And then why fight back? Why defend yourself, if you’re such a piece of shit? You deserve it, after all, right?”

You don’t even realize it, but you’re crying by this point. And you’re mad. All the mad you couldn’t fling at your abuser before is filling you now. You don’t even know if you’re talking about Mammon or yourself anymore. Maybe both of you.

“And even though he’s beaten down, you keep going. When he won’t respond to the usual anymore, when that doesn’t seem to hurt him, rile him up, you go worse. You told your brother, who you claim to love, to kill himself. We’re barely even friends. So what happens when I annoy you? Should I just go die now, save you the trouble of telling me to do it later?”

You step right up to him, into his personal space, almost nose to nose, and stare directly into his red-yellow eyes. “Is this who you are, Asmodeus?”

Asmo has gone from defensive; incredulous and angry, to baffled, hurt and worried in just a few minutes. But at your last, pointed question, he jerks his head back as though you slapped him. Not knowing what to say or do, he reaches for you again, but you dodge his hand and brush past him back into the castle.

You get Solomon, the only one who won’t ask questions, to switch rooms with you. (Luke is thrilled; teaching him to play gin rummy actually cheers you up a little.)

For a few weeks, you and Asmodeus pass each other in the House without speaking.  Then, one evening, there’s a knock on your door and Asmo slides into your room.

He looks….well, not awful; he could never look awful. But the glow is gone from his skin and, unless you’re mistaken, he hasn’t bothered doing his hair. He looks like he’s missed some sleep.

You look up from your homework and watch him. Silently. It’s not your job to fill the silence anymore.

More than most of them, Asmo despises being vulnerable. But it’s fix this or not, and the pact is pushing him to be on good terms. At least, he blames the pact. It’s easier than acknowledging how much the weeks of silence have worn on him. How awful it was watching you walk to class with Mammon instead of him. 

And no matter what, he values honesty in his relationships, no matter what kind of relationship. So he would be honest.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly.

Lean back in your chair, hands folded. Waiting.

“I don’t know….if that’s who I am. Maybe it is.”

“Why are you here, Asmo? What do you want?”

“I want you to stop ignoring me!”

Steady face. “I spent too many years having someone talk to me the way you spoke to your brother. The rest of it - the gossip, the side comments, the cattiness…. it’s not your best side. In fact, it’s pretty unattractive when it’s mean, but I could handle it. But I can’t handle cruelty. I don’t want to be around it anymore.”

A pause. “What is my best side then?”

Disgusted, you chuck a pen in his direction. “Fuck’s sake, Asmo. Get out.”

“No! Not, not that. If that’s my bad side, the **unattractive** part, then what’s the other half?”

You search his face, but he doesn’t seem to be fishing for compliments. If anything, he looks….lost. Confused. And you wonder if anyone’s ever said anything to him, good or bad, about who he was; not what he looked like or how he fucked. 

It’s not your responsibility to psychoanalyze a demon, you think to yourself. But you’re not someone to walk away. You wonder how it’s possible for someone to be thousands of years old, and know less about themselves than you know about yourself in just a few decades. And you have nothing to lose by being kind.

“You can be wonderfully kind, Asmo, and generous. You want to see the beauty in everyone and everything. As nasty as you can be with it, I’ll give you points for honesty. You connect with people, and the times you’re actually genuinely interested in them is….charming.”

He’s silent for a few minutes. Then he nods, as if he’s made a decision. “Okay. Tomorrow, after RAD, do you want to go for bubble tea?” At your confusion, he just smiles and continues, “It’s like skin care, isn’t it? Attractiveness requires effort, darling, until it becomes habit. If I want to be attractive inside as well as out, I’ll have to practice the good things, so they outweigh the bad. I can’t do that alone. I need a practice partner who won’t tolerate failure, right? At least until it’s habit.”

You feel your entire brain have to reboot before you can give a coherent response. 

“Tomorrow. One hour. I have papers due.” You wait until he leaves your room before you smile.

Beelzebub

Probably the best choice for this MC.

The most emotionally intelligent of his brothers.

Also the most sincerely kind and gentle.

But also, like Satan, prone to sudden outbursts and rages. They’re all food-related (or, rather, lack-of-food-related), but they’re there.

A smart MC always carries snacks while dating Beel. Phone, wallet, keys, fried bat wings.

Strangely, though, the food-induced rages don’t really bother you. It’s not anger, really, and it’s never once been directed at you. And, unlike back in the human world, there’s a concrete way to help: feed him.

Today you have a whole backpack full of snacks.

You’re with Belphie, watching one of Beel’s games at RAD.

(You’re not sure Belphie wants to be there, but you’re not allowed out alone, and Belphie decided to take you - keep you safe and support his brother. Two birds, one Belphie.)

Belphie tends to nap against your shoulder any time the ref goes to make a call, but he’s somehow always awake to clap for his brother. 

(You stand on your chair and cheer, but that’s you.)

The game is a close one; double overtime. Even Belphie is too tense to sleep towards the end.

And at the end of double overtime, Beel manages the single extra goal that results in victory.

You cheer yourself hoarse for your demon boyfriend.

The whole stadium is crazy, so you hang back and wait. Belphie hates crowds and you’re not keen on them yourself. It’s going to take awhile for Beel to make it through the crowd to you anyway.

You’re standing in the aisle, scrolling through your phone, when suddenly there’s a loud shout and arms wrap around you from behind and lift you up.

You gasp, and your scream strangles in your throat so what comes out of you is nothing more than a squeak. Your phone goes flying.

You’re frozen for a moment as panic surges. You want to fight and you’re fighting your own brain to push the panic into your limbs so you can fight for yourself.

You vaguely feel a tugging and you hear someone - Belphie? - insisting that you be put down and then your feet are on the ground but there’s no such thing as your legs and you start to fall before the same arms help you gently sit. The ground is gross, but you’ll only care about the damage to your skirt later.

Everything is fuzzy and confusing; you’re not even sure of what you’re looking at until your vision is filled with blue and violet.

You know that swirl of color. That’s a SAFE color, and you start feeling your poor brain start to work again.

You blink into your boyfriend’s blue-violet eyes; you realize he’s cupping your face with his hands and the weird underwater noises start to sound like his voice. You realize, very belatedly, that what probably happened was Beel lifting you up in a victory hug.

“M’okay,” you say, but it sounds robotic. It takes a few more seconds - you don’t know how many - for all of your senses and brain to actually begin working in sync again. You start hearing the sounds of the crowd departing the stadium, and you hear Beel continuing to say your name and trying to get you to answer questions. You almost smile; but smiling wouldn’t make any sense.

“I’m okay,” you say, and you must sound a little more convincing this time because Beel looks relieved. He shoots a few more questions at you, and you realize they’re the kinds of questions people get asked when someone thinks they have a concussion or head trauma.

Your answers satisfy him, so Beel helps you to your feet. 

“What was that?” He asks. “Low blood sugar? Are you hungry?”

You have to smile at his very-typical diagnosis. A little sugar wouldn’t hurt, though. For some reason, eating grounds you after something like this. You dig a chocolate bar out of your Backpack of Snacks (Snackpack?) and hand the rest to him.

He impatiently takes a bag of chips out of it but doesn’t open it. He looks at you expectantly and you realize he won’t eat until you do. So you take a bite of the chocolate and he looks more relieved.

“So what the fuck WAS that?” Belphie asks as the three of you move towards the exit.

“Later.” You haven’t yet found a reason to really tell Beel (and, by extension, Belphegor) about everything. You do later that night. 

Beel swears he’ll never surprise you like that again. He’s a lot more cautious about touching you for a few days, but eventually things go back to normal between you.

Belphegor

Author note: Dude fucking murdered you, deliberately, in cold blood, and taunted you for your gentleness and desire to help as you died. But let’s say you can get past that - or try to. Probably the second-worst choice, after Satan, for this reason.

You started dating Belphie for the strangest reason: you could trash-talk the shit out of him.

He kept trying to be around you after you made the pact (which, let’s face it, you made so you could MAKE SURE he never hurt you again). Until, after politely dodging him wasn’t working, you told him to take his emo-boy routine and fuck off somewhere else.

You flinched, waiting for retaliation, but he just blinked at you and told you to stop being a brat.

And he was smiling.

But it wasn’t a mean smile - it was a smile that shared the joke.

Your lips quivered into a returning smile, and you threw another insult at him.

He topped it, and hurled one back.

Before you knew it, the two of you were screaming obscenities at each other in the middle of the common room and laughing like hyenas.

For some reason, Belphie calling you a dumb bitch wasn’t an insult. It was a mark of endearment. And it didn’t hurt your feelings or make you afraid.

It was empowering to call him a dickhead if he did something you didn’t like and have him simply laugh and amend his behavior. Nothing bothered him.

He didn’t move quickly; in fact he didn’t move at all if he could help it.

But you would remember, sometimes, the way his hands felt on your throat, or how cold his eyes had been. And you couldn’t say it was a momentary madness, because he’d planned it. He’d been imprisoned because he wanted to kill humanity.

You put it out of your mind. It was something you were good at, after all.

Until the two of you sat down to watch a movie one evening. A simple plot hole sparked a discussion that wound up being….not an argument, but definitely a difference of opinion.

As usual, insults were flying fast and furious when suddenly Belphie laughed and smacked you with his pillow.

It wasn’t an angry move, and it wasn’t hard enough to hurt. It wasn’t a hard blow at all! But the surprise had you falling back on the couch. And the fear had you curling into a ball, arms wrapped around your head protectively, legs curled up to guard your middle.

There is dead silence.

“Hey, Brat?” Belphie asks. When you don’t answer, he calls your name instead.

You slowly, very slowly, begin to uncurl yourself from your position. It takes time for the residual fear to leave, but enough is gone to leave room for embarrassment. 

“Sorry,” you mutter. 

“I get it,” is the answer.

Cue awkward silence.

“I figured you were still afraid of me.”

“I’m not!” When he just stares blandly at you, you sigh. “Okay, a little. If you wanted to hurt me - again - you’ve had a ton of opportunities. So I don’t think you want to. But…..”

“It’s a hard thing to get over.”

“Yeah. And not just you.” Hesitantly, you start to tell him. You want to just give him the basics, but once you start talking, you can’t seem to stop. He doesn’t interrupt, barely seems to blink, just watches you. A blank vessel to help you empty the poison that fills you sometimes.

You see his jaw tighten as you go on, but you know the anger isn’t at you.

When you finish, he’s silent for a few moments. Then he gathers you up to him. “I’ll never hurt you,” he says.

You look up at him with the same bland look he gave you a moment ago.

“Again,” he amends. “I’ll never hurt you again.”

You let out a watery laugh and he hugs you a bit tighter.

“You’re still a brat, though.”

[renchinworld]

THE BLIZZARD IN JILIN

Renjun x fem reader 

fluff & angst // word count: 3.2k

This is the story of Renjun’s childhood friend who he left in Jilin when he followed his dreams of becoming an idol.

Now six years have passed, dozens of awards, hundreds of thousands of fans, and a triple million selling album later... he comes back home to see her engaged to another man. 

A blizzard is coming to Jilin and it’s the strongest one China has ever seen. 

___ ___ ___ 

 “I passed the auditions!” Renjun hugged you tightly, shaking you from side to side in joy. “I’m going to Korea!”

“Congratulations.” You smile, tears forming at the sides of your eyes.

Renjun’s dream has always been to be an idol, but your dream was always him. To be with him. 

For him to spill out the words that his eyes never fail to say everytime you catch him staring at you. 

For him to realize that maybe he didn’t give you his coat on cold winter mornings when yours did not make you feel warm enough just because he thought of you as a friend.

For him to tell you that what he truly wants is to just be an ordinary man in Jilin, grow old with you, chill with each other in the warm fireplace as you look back on your lives in old age.  

To leave it all behind and choose you.

But that would be selfish. That would leave Renjun always wondering with what ifs. He would be with you but his heart would be stuck with a dream he never got to achieve. Like an empty vessel of a person you once loved. You can’t bring yourself to do that to him just to make him stay. 

You love him so much to cut off his wings when he wants so badly to fly. 

“Shouldn’t you go home and pack?” You ask with a forced smile. You’re on the verge of crying in front of him. He needs to go before he sees your tears.

“Right!” He jumps. “By the way, you’re the first one I told. I’m gonna prank my family and tell them I didn’t get accepted first hehe. Serves them right for trying to stop me from going.” 

“You meanie.” You chuckled and he smiled. 

“Come on. You know I love them and it’s just for light fun,” Renjun ruffles your hair and you almost tell him not to leave you then. You bite your lower lip to stop yourself and his eyes land on your lips before he clears his throat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You’re always the first one he told everything to. That was your place in his life. But now, seeing him walking away from you, you realize he no longer belongs only to you and you to him. 

He will be loved by a thousand screaming fans and he will perform for them in return.  He will end your calls at night earlier than usual because he has to meet other girls and boys in the morning for a fansign event. He will eventually stop messaging you as he becomes busy and you’ll wonder if he forgot about you completely.

Renjun will get his wish while you can only dream of yours. 

He will be shining as always. Under the bright, blinding spotlights and the glowing eyes of his many supporters. While you will be at your hometown, staring out at the snowy mountains, reminiscing the days when he looked at you the same way his fans look at him now.

Then you will wake up one day and realize that maybe this is bearable enough. 

Maybe it’s okay to continue on, knowing that in this short life you met the one you’d choose in a hundred lifetimes, but he couldn’t choose you in this one. 

Maybe you’ll finally agree to that arranged marriage your parents have been trying to set you up to. 

And maybe you will change your dream to an actual goal instead of a person who will end up leaving you. Maybe, just maybe… you will forget about Renjun too.

And that’s exactly what you did. Or so you thought.

___

5 YEARS LATER

“Honey, remind your fiancé that we’re having his family over for dinner,” your mom says, poking her head out of the kitchen. “Call him, okay?”

You nodded and proceeded to just text Hendery. This arranged marriage isn’t out of love and you both know it. He’s in love with someone else and you’re not willing to give your heart to him. There’s no reason to call each other over things you can just text.

“He says they’re coming.” You said, walking towards the kitchen and making yourself green tea by settling it over ice and waiting for it to melt. Someone you once loved told you this is the best way to make them.

“You didn’t call him?” Your mother asks, concerned. You shrugged. “He’s a nice boy, sweetheart. You’ve been engaged for years and yet you still--”

“Mom, please,” your smile never reached your eyes. “We’ll be fine.”

“Is it because of Renjun?”

You gulped. The mention of his name felt like the cold air that hits you when you step out of the house. It felt like beautiful smiles fading into the background. Like a thousand dreams that were thrown into the fire but the ashes keep on coming back, smothering you and making it difficult to breathe.

“No.” You said almost immediately. 

“I heard he’s back home, taking a short vacation.” She presses on, concern plastered on her face as she studies your expression. “Have you talked to him yet?”

“He’s probably forgotten about me.” Your heart was clawing at you from the inside. “Let’s stop talking about him, mom. Do you need help?”

“No, honey. I’m almost finished. You should just get ready.” She pats your back and goes back to cooking dinner. 

___

Finished with making yourself look presentable, you went down stairs. 

You stopped halfway when the doorbell rang.

No one rings your house doorbell. Hendery texts you whenever he’s in front of your house. Your father just goes in when he comes home from work every month. 

Only delivery men use that contraption. But it’s night time right now. What delivery company would be on duty at 8 in the evening?

“Sweetheart, open the door for me, okay? I’m setting up the table.” Your mom called out from the dining area. 

Something feels off. What if it’s a murderer? Nah, you’ve been watching too many true crime documentaries.

You looked at the peephole just to be sure. 

You wished it was a murderer instead. 

That would’ve been better for your health than Huang Renjun carrying a bouquet of flowers in front of your doorstep.

“What happened?” Your mom walks towards you. You look back at her, the color in your face gone. “Why aren’t you opening the door?”

She grabs the doorknob but you stop her, shaking your head. You hissed. “Don’t!”

Your mother’s eyebrows furrowed. She peeks in the peephole and sighs before she uses her strength on you and forces the door open despite your struggling.

“Oh look, it’s Jilin’s superstar! Welcome back!” She smiles, genuinely happy to see the boy who made your entire province proud. Asian parents amirite. “Come in, come in. Just in time for dinner.”

“Thank you for your hospitality.” Renjun says as he steps in and pays his respects. His voice was deeper than you last remembered. He was taller, more regal looking and even more handsome. How is that even possible?

Your eyes meet and a million memories flood through your mind. Him hugging you, telling you that he’ll be back soon. Not soon enough. You crying every night until one day you just stopped because you became numb. Not numb enough. Him saying goodbye on the phone one last time before he ghosts you. You cursing him on the top of your lungs and crying in the middle of a storm, wanting to just sink into the snow and freeze outside for years to come.

“Hi,” he says and hands you the flowers. Your eyes flutter, your hands are shaking as you receive it. You don’t know if you should be angry or what. “How are you?”

How are you? You chuckled bitterly. “Great, thanks for asking.”

“Hang his coat, honey. I’ll be in the dining area if you need me.” Your mom says quickly to mask the contempt in your voice and leaves the both of you. If your mother noticed anything, she pretended not to notice. The tension was so thick, it probably suffocated her.

“Won’t you ask me how I’ve been?” He smiles and your throat constricts. You don’t say anything so he sucks a deep breath, continuing. “We’re triple million seller idols now.”

“C-congrats.” You say, forcing yourself to not say more because if you do, you might say things you'll regret. You place the flowers down and he hands you his coat for you to hang. A whiff of his perfume passes. He smells like how a cozy and warm morning would be if it was a scent.

“I’ve missed you. I’m sorry for not reaching out--” You didn’t have enough time to process what he said because your phone suddenly rang in your pocket. He nods, eyes never leaving yours. “Go ahead. Must be an emergency.”

It was Hendery. You picked up. He only calls when it’s really important.

“Yes, Hendery?” Renjun's expression darkens at the mention of Hendery’s name. “A blizzard? Okay, I understand.”

You walk past Renjun and went to the dining area where your mother is. “They can’t come, mom. Can’t drive because the blizzard suddenly worsened.” 

“Oh no,” she pouts, then her expression changes when he sees the man standing behind you. “No worries, we have a guest to help us finish the meal. Don’t we, Renjun?”

“Of course, it’s an honor.” His honey voice from behind surprised you. You didn’t know he followed you. “Careful.”

He caught you in his arms when you almost tripped. You were quick to stand up and remove his hold on you. Your mother just stared amused. You were always too composed and collected, but Renjun brings out a clumsy side to you she’s never seen before.

“It’s a shame her fiancé couldn’t meet her childhood friend.” Your mother sighed when all three of you were seated. You and Renjun sat across from each other while your mom was beside you. “The blizzard really did it this time.”

“Fiancé?” His brows knitted, mouth hanging open, waiting for your mom to say he heard it wrong. 

“Hendery.” You said, not looking at him while taking a bite of the steak. “We’ve been engaged since 2018.” Since you stopped talking to me.

“Ah, of course,” he takes a bite out of his food but his eyes are still glued on you. “Congratulations.”

“They’re to be married next month. So exciting!” Your mom exclaims beside you and brings more food to your plates. “Eat up, babies. You both grew up so fast. You’ll probably have babies of your own soon!”

You cleared your throat, feeling the heat on your face. You probably looked so red right now.

“But…  next month?” He asks again, this time not bothering to cover his distaste of the marriage topic. “Isn’t that too soon?”

You said nothing. Why does he care anyways?

Your mom explains for you that Hendery’s parents have been trying to get you both married since last year but you keep on saying you’re still too young. 

“Right!” Renjun extends a hand to prove his point. “What if she changes her mind?”

He looks at you, trying so hard to steal your glance from the food. You give in and look at him. You almost gasp. This is the first time you’ve ever seen Renjun look this desperate. Not when his parents told him not to go to that audition. Not when he talks about becoming an idol. This was much more intense. Like he was about to do unspeakable things to you if you don’t answer him right now.

“I-I don’t think I’ll change my mind.” You finally say, feeling the heaviness in your chest spread through your body, tingling at the end of your fingers. 

“Of course you won’t.” Renjun leans, shoulders rolling back as he adjusts his posture. He says nothing to you throughout the whole meal. He smiles and humors your mother when she shares more stories but he has never looked at you again.

___

“It’s dangerous for you to leave now,” your mom says, worried. Renjun insisted on going home because their house was within walking distance, but the air was blowing outside at terrifying speeds. “Just stay the night like you always do when you were kids, hmm?”

But we’re not kids anymore. Now, we’re young adults who are totally frustrated with each other. That’s not a good idea. But going outside is evidently much worse.

“You can use her brother’s room.” Your mom laughs from the living room where they both are. Your brother Lucas has rarely visited since he married. “You’ve always been like a son to us anyways, even her brother gets jealous of you sometimes.”

Renjun laughs with her, remembering the good ol’ days. You roll your eyes. 

“Thank you so much. I’ll behave, I promise.”

Your mom turns to look at you. You’re washing the dishes in the kitchen. “She’s always insisting to hand wash instead of using the dishwasher. I taught her well.”

“I’ll help her. Please get some rest.” He smiles warmly at her and walks towards you. You both hear your mother go up the stairs, leaving you and Renjun alone again.

“Next month, really?” He asks, grabbing the plate from your hand.

“We’ve already talked about this over dinner.” You sigh. “Just drop it.”

“Are you even sure you want to marry him? Don’t you like someone else?” His tone carried a meaning behind it. Like he knew. 

What does he even know?!

"I'm marrying him and that's final." You say sternly, your patience drying up. “That would make me happy.”

“Since when did you start lying to yourself?”

The ticking bomb within you explodes. Years of sadness turned into rage and it filled your heaving chest. Your eyes started to water. Renjun settled the plate down when he saw your expression and faced you, apologizing immediately.

“Please don’t marry him.” He suddenly pleads as he kneels down, touching your hands and looking up at you. “Come back to me. Please.”

“What? Why are you so--” you stop to breathe out loudly. Tears began spilling and your heart felt like jumping out. You wanted to shout in his face. Why do you care?! Why are you begging?! What are we?!

But only a fountain of tears followed. Years of practicing what you would say if something like this happened just blurred in your mind. No amount of practice will suffice once your first love comes back and tells you something like this. None.

“I’m so sorry,” Renjun stood up and wiped your tears away. His eyes also started to become teary. “I know I’m not in the position to tell you that but I still did. I also know I’m way too late, but I just want to tell you that I love you. I really, really love you. I tried to forget my feelings because I know it would be difficult for you to end up with someone like me, but I just can’t get you out of my head.

“Every time my group members asked me if I liked someone, I would say no but in the back of my mind all I see is you. Whenever someone sings your favorite song, I would remember how beautiful you looked when we sang it together. Every moment I go up on stage, I always wondered if you’re watching me from somewhere in the crowd. Every winter when it snowed in Seoul, I would think of how the snowflakes fell softly on your hair here in Jilin. I may have left, but my heart stayed with you.

“I’m sorry I stopped talking to you. I knew you liked me back so I thought it would be selfish of me to let you wait for so long because of the path I chose. You didn’t stop me from following my dreams back then despite that. So I thought to myself, ‘she sacrificed for me, but I can’t do the same for her?’ and I decided that I needed to let you go. You deserved to be happy, too.

"I stopped reaching out so you could forget me and finally be happy in someone else’s arms. I was ready to let you go. But when I heard you were getting married next month, I couldn’t bear it. I can’t imagine it. I’d rather die. I’d rather give up on everything than see you walk down the aisle for another man--”

His voice cracks. Head drooping down into yours as he hugs you tightly. As if he let you go now, he would lose you completely. As if he doesn’t squeeze you like this, you will end up continuing with the marriage. 

You looked up at the ceiling, tears flowing and mouth hanging open from his words. Isn’t life funny? For years you were scrambling for answers and in just a mere minute, everything has started coming together.

“Renjun...” You say, your voice low and shaky. “I can’t breathe.”

He loosens his hold on you and looks you in the eyes. His hands cupped your face. “Did you hear me? I said I love you. I said I really, really, really love you.”

“I heard, dumbass.” You cough up a small laugh, the tears won’t stop falling. “I love you too.”

He sighs, relief washing over his face. “Marry me instead?”

“Dude, don’t you think you’re going too fast?” You say, your hands planted on his chest. Eyes puffy. Renjun only found it cute. 

“The last time I stalled, I almost lost you. So I’m going all-in now.” 

“You’re a kpop idol. What am I supposed to do if you're on tour and I need to give birth, hmm?”

"Don't you think you're moving faster than me? I'm just at the marriage part and you're already at pregnancy." He chuckles. "Then again, maybe we can rearrange the order of things…" 

You smacked him on the chest lightly. Who knew he could make dirty jokes like this now?

"You told my mom you would behave."

"Your mom likes me and wants grandchildren. I don't think she'd mind." 

"Shut up." You say with a smile and he kisses you. You didn’t expect him to come in stronger than a blizzard and break down all your defenses. His kiss. His truth. His love for you. Him.

There’s still a lot to be done before you two can be free to love each other without worries. But it doesn’t matter. No matter how challenging it is from here on out, you two will have each other and that's all you need. It would be like this. Always. 

Renjun's kiss deepens and he smiles victoriously as you melt into his arms. A dozen awards and a ton of trophies he received, but none of those comes close to winning your heart.

___

From upstairs, your mom smiles to herself. She heard everything when she went to ask what's taking so long but backed away quietly when she heard you both crying.

"I knew these kids just needed a little push. Oh, oof. We have to cancel that engagement…."

___ ___ ___

a/n: Dude I loved writing this so much I actually didn’t want it to end lmao

[moldisgoodforyou]

so like, nerdy strip poker

wordcount: 2k

warnings: it’s all straight smut. everyone say thank you @sunnypogue for begging for rafe x sophie smut. also the gif has nothing to do with this he’s just hot

_____

“This isn’t fun, why’d I have to date a nerd?” Rafe groaned as he finished scribbling out the last of fifty flashcards. He had been struggling in his economics class for the past few weeks and nothing was sticking, especially as he just kept staring at his typed up notes, so Sophie offered an alternative.

She rolled her eyes and reached her foot out toward him, kicking at his thigh. “Shut up and finish. You said you have to nail this test, don’t you?”

He caught her socked foot and wrapped his hand around her ankle possessively. “I know, I know. I’m done, here.” Rafe handed her the stack of cards and tried pulling her closer. “Are you gonna quiz me?”

“You’re too lazy to do it yourself?” She teased with a shiver, pulling away from him. She had on her winter coat, a knit hat, and a blanket wrapped around her - there was a giant snowstorm outside in the middle of February and the frat house wasn’t much warmer.

“C’mere, I’ll keep you warm.” He reached over again, only for her to tug away with a smirk. “No. You have to study. But I have an idea.”

He furrowed his brow, skeptical. “I don’t know if I like that look.”

“Every time you get a question right - wait, no, every three questions - I’ll take off a piece of my clothes.”

A slow grin spread across Rafe’s face and he sat back, lacing his hands behind his head. “So like, nerdy strip poker.”

“You keep calling me a nerd and I’ll put another blanket on instead.” She narrowed her eyes, pulling the blanket tighter and shoving her feet into her boots.

“Hey! Shoes are unfair!” He protested.

“Get your questions right and there won’t be a problem.” She stuck her tongue out at him and flipped through the cards, shuffling them first. “Alright. What is scarcity?”

“This is so not sexy.”

“Do you want to see me naked or not?”

He sighed dramatically, nodding, and answered the next few questions with ease. She toed off her shoes, the blanket and her winter coat, continuing to ask the questions.

“You know, this could be a lot more fun if we ditched the flash cards and you just stripped.” He gave her a lazy, hopeful grin, and she rolled her eyes. “What is the Phillips curve?”

“Shows the short run tradeoff between inflation and unemployment.” He replied easily, and groaned once he saw her tank top under her sweater she tugged over her head. “Since when have you ever worn a tank top under a sweater?!”

“A lot, when it’s cold.” She replied with a smug grin. “You just never noticed because you’re normally too preoccupied.”

“At least tell me you’re wearing my favorite bra.” He reached for her, going to pull up on the hem of her tank top, but she slapped his hand away. “Quit it. I didn’t know you had a favorite bra of mine.”

“It’s the red one I can see through.” He told her right away, point-blank with raised eyebrows.

She laughed at the quickness of his response, blushing a little. “No, I’m wearing a sports bra that’s at least five years old, it’s like the least sexy thing ever. But nice try. And I only wore that bra on accident.”

“On accident?” He asked curiously, cocking his head.

“Yes, you saw it because it was laundry day.” She blushed more, shaking her head. “I got it as a gag gift, I wasn’t planning on sleeping with you that day. It felt a little too...early in the relationship for lingerie.” She thought back to that day, nothing too special, and remembered how Rafe’s jaw literally dropped when he pulled off her shirt over her head. She had made a mental note of it and immediately went and bought more lingerie online that night.

“Lucky me.” He grinned and leaned forward, trying to grab the cards out of her hands. “Sophie - come on -” She wrestled them out of his hands, only getting him to let go by biting at his knuckle. He yanked his hand back, jaw dropping. “Did you just bite me?”

“You have to study!” She protested, holding the cards back and out of his reach. “I’m not letting you fail this test. Tell me what the circular flow diagram is.”

“You bit me. My girlfriend literally just bit me.” He repeated, dramatically rubbing over his knuckle.

“Answer the question or we’re not having sex.” She fixed him with a pointed glare.

“Wait, we’re having sex?”

“Oh my god, you idiot, I’m not taking all my clothes off in this cold ass house just to sit here on the couch.”

“Be nice to me, Jesus!” He exclaimed, shaking his head.

“You’re being dumb, I can’t help it!” She laughed as he flipped her off. “Answer the question.” He grumbled but followed along, answering a handful of questions until she stood to shimmy her tights off underneath her skirt, down to her sports bra, skirt and underwear.

“What are you - Sophie, just take the skirt off.” He groaned, holding back a smile as she struggled to wiggle out of them and keep her skirt on too. She stuck her foot in his lap, toe pointed as her tights were halfway down her thighs. “No, that’s not the point of the game. Pull these off.”

“I’m never studying with you again. Do you have those weird nipple things on under your bra? You were prepared for this game, weren’t you?” He yanked on her tights, causing them to rip, then immediately pulled his hand away.

“Rafe! Those are my good tights! Were my good tights!” She complained, hopping on one foot as she pulled them off. “I’ll buy you new ones, I didn’t think they’d rip like that!” He reached for the now-slim stack of flashcards again, trying to tug them out of her grip and accidentally gave her a papercut across the pad of her thumb. “Fuck, Rafe!” She hissed, yanking her hand back.

He winced and hooked an arm around her waist, easily pulling her down to his lap, and tenderly pressed a kiss to her thumb. “I’m sorry, angel, I didn’t mean to.”

“You suck.” Sophie frowned, but picked up the flashcards off the couch anyways. “Just finish the deck. You only have ten left. And no, I’m not wearing nipple covers, dumbass, those are just for when I’m not wearing a bra.” She flicked his forehead, immediately following it with a kiss.

“You’re mean.” He argued, but softened a little at the tenderness of the kiss. As he answered the first couple of questions, she turned to straddle him, tugging up on his shirt. “Hurry up, I’m cold.”

“I could have warmed you up by now. Twice.” He smirked, catching her in a kiss. She shivered, feeling his hands automatically fall to her waist. “You’re too damn cocky. This is why I’m mean, your ego’s too big.”

“You’re my girlfriend, you’re supposed to encourage me.” He flinched upon feeling her cold hands tug up on his sweater, but let her pull it off anyways. “I do. When you deserve it. But you're annoying me right now.”

“You’re talking too much.” Rafe unbuttoned her skirt, tossing it to the side. “You’re not done - fuck -” She breathed out as he attached his lips to her neck, knowing exactly how to derail her train of thought. “Rafe -” She mumbled, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“Hm?”

“The bed. Please.” She urged. He stood right away, easily slipping his hands under her thighs as he carried her over to the bed. “I’m gonna have a problem when I take my test.” He told her, kicking off his sweatpants then crawled back over her, caging her in with his forearms resting on either side of her head. “Because you didn’t finish the deck?” She asked curiously, hooking one leg around his waist and pressing her hips against his.

He bit back a groan, kissing her hard. “Because I’m going to be thinking of this the whole time.”

“That doesn’t sound like an issue.” She countered, lifting her arms so he could tug her sports bra off. He struggled, accidentally snapping the elastic against her chest. “How the fuck do I get this thing off?”

Sophie giggled, twisting a little so he could successfully tug it over her head and onto the floor. “There you go.” He traced over the marks it left with one finger, frowning for a moment. “Does that hurt you?”

“Not really.” She sucked in a sharp breath as he pinched her nipple, rolling it between his fingers and licked across the other. “I think you should quit wearing bras.” He told her, trailing his hand down her waist and teased his index finger under the waistband of her panties.

“You get jealous when I wear a tight shirt out to the bars. You think you can handle guys looking at my nipples too?” She quipped, willing herself to stay quiet as he easily pushed her up the bed and tugged her panties off her body.

“Oh. Probably not.” He grinned as he ran two fingers across her entrance, making her whine. “You’re jealous too though.” She tensed in anticipation, but let her legs fall open a little wider.

“I’ve never been jealous in my life.” She lied, giggling when he looked up with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah? What about -”

“If you say her name while we’re in bed, I will suffocate you between my legs.” She threatened, her smile instantly dropping.

“What a way to go.” Rafe grinned, dipping two fingers inside of her and loving the way she instantly reacted. He ducked his head down and wasted no time in getting to work, flicking his tongue across her clit and curling his fingers toward himself.

“Fuck, Rafe.” She moaned quietly, fisting her fingers in his hair. He kept up his ministrations at a steady pace, pushing her thighs out again when they nearly clamped around his head. “Easy, baby.” He smirked. Sophie lifted her head to make a quick retort, but her breath caught in her throat as he sucked on her clit, all thoughts forgotten.

When she got whinier and whinier, close to shaking, he pulled away abruptly, groaning quietly as she tugged hard on his hair. “Careful, Soph.” He brought both fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean, and she watched him with wide eyes for a moment, letting go of his hair. “I - um, sorry, but. You weren’t done.”

He smirked, kissing up her body. “I don’t mind.”

“I was so close.” She mumbled, whining as he sucked a mark along her collarbone.

“Don’t worry, angel, almost there.” He kicked off his boxers and Sophie thought it was almost embarrassing how her mouth practically watered at the sight, how easily he could make her mind clouded over. She grabbed a condom from his nightstand and carefully rolled it down him, grinning when he hissed at the contact. He lifted her hips and pulled her close, entering her at a painfully slow rate.

“More, please, more.” She begged, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to hold him close. “So needy.” Rafe teased, his voice low and guttural in her ear. He kept his pace annoyingly slow, groaning as Sophie rocked her hips against his. She nearly bit down on his shoulder to muffle her cry when he reached in between them and rubbed his fingers across her clit, bringing her so close once again. “Hold out for me, Soph.” He instructed, snapping his hips a little faster.

“I - fuck - please -” She panted, pressing desperate kisses to anywhere she could reach across his neck. That was all it took for him to rub her clit faster, harder, and she came with a whimper, burying her face against his skin. “That’s it, good girl,” Rafe praised. He followed shortly after, the vibrations of his groan against her neck sending waves through her body.

The two lay in silence for a moment as they caught their breath, completely limp against each other. When he went to pull away, she whined, holding her arms tight around him to keep his weight on her. “Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“That was just once. You said you’d warm me up twice.” She teased, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

He nodded, letting out a hot breath against her shoulder. “Give me a second and I’ll prove I’m a man of my word.”

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