#and then have him come in from behind at the end to sweep the fucking board is UNMATCHED

[sylus-little-meow-meow]

The Sleepover: Part 3

She's back with Sylus again.

But it's that day. 

The day she finally decided to end things. 

He's standing in “their” room, his gaze distant, like always and that's something she could never change no matter how many times she tried.

She could wear the most gorgeous gowns or a potato sack and he'd simply give her a once over and a non committal “you look lovely” before he went back to whatever he was doing, his gaze never lingering. 

He's changing out of his robe and into something more befitting of a leader. 

She's never even seen him in casual wear. 

Sylvia: Sylus?

Sylus: Yes, kitten?

He doesn't look in her direction, doesn't note the shift in her tone.

Sylvia looks at her fingers.

Sylvia: You're never going to love me in the way I do you, are you?

The man freezes on the spot, his fingertips hovering over a black button down before he withdraws his hand.

Sylus: Where is this coming from all of a sudden?

Sylvia gives a laugh, but it's hollow just like this entire relationship.

Sylvia: You're dancing around the question. You don't want to answer it, do you?

Sylus: Kitten—

He turns around but she slips off of the bed, fighting back tears as she yanks off the shit she tried using to impress Sylus in the bedroom, the see through nightgown about as appetizing to him as a box  of  stale crackers. 

She's biting her lip so hard it's almost bleeding.

What's worse?

Having an ex so obsessed with you to the point they'd kill one of the most precious people in your life?

Or one who doesn't care at all?

Granted, at least with Sylus she'd still have her older sister. 

But she doesn't have either because her love life is a mess and every man she chooses is just…

She shouldn't feel hurt towards Sylus. 

This is nothing in comparison to what she went through, but the frustration of him agreeing to date her despite the fact he probably knew he'd never love her is too much.

Because she loves him.

Right down to her core she knows she's fallen in love with him.

And that's why she needs to let him go.

This will always be one sided and it's become clear there's someone else out there he's looking for.

She can see it in the way his gaze sweeps over every destination, like some part of him is missing and maybe he thought it was her once upon a time, but now they both know better.

It isn't her.

So she goes to the closet, moving him out of the way as she begins to collect her things.

Her jaw is clenched and her eyes are hard. 

Outwardly she'll show anger, yet on the inside she's crying for him to stop her.

For some small part of him to care.

Sylus: What are you doing, kitten?

Sylvia: Nothing you need to worry about. I'm done here. This was fun, but I think it's time we cut things off. 

Sylus looks down at her.

She internally pleads for him to hold her back, to lightly grab her wrist, to ask her to stop what she's doing but he doesn't.

Instead he steps back.

Sylus: If that's what you truly want, kitten.

Her hand pauses.

Sylvia: If you really think this is what I want you should go fuck yourself. 

She yanks the last piece of clothing off the hanger and spins towards him, the tears threatening to spill over, but she won't allow them to because Sylus doesn't deserve her vulnerability.

Sylvia: I wanted love and I wanted a partner. You've made it clear you don't want to act as either of those for me. You're not even present in this relationship.

Sylus stares at her, the quiet expanding between them and her outburst.

There's not even a flair or hint of emotion in his eyes. 

She wants to cry. 

She wants to scream.

She wants to throw something just to get him to react to her presence at all. 

But she doesn't.

Instead she stalks past him, her gaze trained forward, eyes on a door that will open and shut for the very last time.

Sylvia: Send me the rest of my things when you get the chance. Try not to forget because I know half the time you forgot I was even your girlfriend. Have a nice life, Sylus.

She says and then slams the door behind her.

When she sees Mephisto, she ducks her head to hide oncoming tears.

It's over.

They're done. 

The memory turned dream fades as a cool hand brushes against her forehead. 

Sylvia: Sylus…?

She murmurs, nuzzling her face into that same hand, pressing it more into her cheek with her own.

Sylvia: Did you come back for me…?

Her voice cracks, tears seeping through her closed eyes.

She buries her face into his palm. Did he finally see her after all this time?

The voice doesn't say anything, but the hand tries pulling away and Sylvia clings tighter, not wanting to let go of this one small gesture. 

Sylvia: Don't go. 

Sylvia: Please. 

She sounds pathetic, pleading like this, but she can't help it. 

If he's here now, even if this is a dream, she doesn't want to let him go. She wants him to stay.

She's completely forgotten that Sylus already moved on with another.

All she knows is that one small gesture from Sylus proving that their time meant something to him would mean everything to her. 

Sylvia: Don't go.

She says again and feels the hand shift, no longer trying to pull away and her body relaxes as a second one brushes the hair out of her face.

They're surprisingly gentle. 

Caring. 

She manages to slip into a peaceful sleep, feeling the hands of someone who cares about her.

                        ************************************

Felix awoke to the sounds of Sylvia calling out in her sleep.

He got up off the couch and found her tangled up in her bedsheets, her face flushed and beads of sweat trickling into her hairline.

Did she feel sick?

Did she need to throw up?

He approached her and gently touched her cheek.

Then he heard a name.

Sylvia: Sylus…?

She said it so quietly, her voice cracking at the last syllable.

Felix stiffened and attempted to pull away, not wanting to confuse her if she fully woke up.

But she held fast.

She asked Sylus to stay.

And it killed Felix that it wasn't him she was asking, but some other man.

He swallowed his pride, ducking his head as he warred with himself, wondering if there was even a right choice.

In the end, the hopeful expression on Sylvia's face—her eyes still closed—made him shift closer and brush the strands of hair off of her forehead with gentle finger tips. 

She relaxed then, a content smile finding its way to her lips. 

Felix didn't leave until he knew she was fully asleep.

She didn't need to wake up and have her dreams crushed when she realized it was him.

Felix goes to leave, but pauses at the doorway, looking back at Sylvia, her silver hair mussed, her face clear of makeup which softens her features.

It's looking at her that Felix realizes Sylvia wasn't the only one in this room with an unrequited love, wondering what it would be like if Sylvia looked at him like she did with Sylus.

He'll probably never know.

He won't ask that of her.

She's got more on her plate than just a man who didn't return her feelings.

So he gently shuts the door behind him and pads over to the couch, lying in wake for the rest of the night.

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

Sima Yi finally joins the court after spending 10 years draft dodging and pretending to have arthritis (at age 23!). Cao Cao congratulates him for his miraculous recovery.

Suddenly remembered that sima yi comes from a long line of stupidly tall giraffe people. His oldest brother was 1.9m and actually got accused of cheating on a test when he was a kid because no one believed he was only 13. His grandfather was like 2m. Laws of probability and genetics dictate that sima yi was above average height, to his own detriment.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Small Touches and Simple Gestures

Summary: Javier Peña x Fe!Reader -> For years you've pretended to be married to avoid unwanted attention. But what happens when the lie you've been living, suddenly becomes true. Well, at least a part of it.

Disclaimer: Swearing, fluff, one of the agents making a move on Reader though nothing happens (Javi stops it). Fake dating, falling in love, embarrassing mothers, office romance. Heavy smut towards the end, so 18+. Happy ending. A lot of smaller intimate moments between Javi and Reader away from the smut, too. Kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.

If someone had told you that three years into working with Agent Javier Peña you’d be wearing a wedding band, marrying you to him for at the very least, the foreseeable future…you wouldn’t have believed them. 

And you would be right not to. Because that, technically, wasn’t what it was for. 

And it had all started with a question that Peña asked you one day as you sat at your desk. 

“Was he real?”

You slowly tore your attention away from the case file in front of you. “What?”

“Your husband.”

For a moment you forgot all about how you’d first come to interact with Peña. He had asked you out. Well, flirted heavily then asked you out. 

“What husband?”

Javi stood as he talked, walking towards your desk and sitting down on the edge of it closest to you. “One day you’re wearing a wedding ring telling me you’re married, the next it’s gone.”

You looked at your hand. “Oh. Yeah.” You decided to admit the truth. “I made him up.”

Despite his constant theories, he was still shocked. “What?”

“I made him up.”

You said it as if you were asking him how his day was. Like it was nothing new. 

“You made him up?”

“You try and be a single woman in this office who doesn’t like getting hit on by every guy who thinks with his dick,” you told him. “See how quickly you make up a fake family.”

He had to laugh. “But I hit on you.”

You looked at him, suppressing an already knowing smirk on your face. “My point exactly.”

“Think I got something.” From the door, Steve came sweeping inside and threw a couple of files down on Javi’s desk. The previous topic was dropped for now but you took a moment to revel in the shock graced on Peña’s face. 

However, a few hours later, it was brought back up again. 

You’d been standing in the evidence locker, looking for yet another misplaced case file. Could people not read in this office? Had they lost all sense of the alphabet? You sighed heavily. 

“How long have you been doing it?”

You jumped and found Peña standing behind you. “Jesus, Peña. Make a noise or something. Fuck.” You turned back to the messy shelf in front of you. 

“So?”

You sighed. “Doing what? This? Feels like hours.”

He shook his head and rounded you before leaning against the side of the shelves. “Not the files. You being married.”

“Oh, uh…” You pulled a few hefty files and handed them over to him before reaching down onto the lower shelf and pulling those files up. “Couple years, I guess. Since before the Academy.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier, or do I need to repeat myself, Peña?”

He shook his head again and put the files down. “No, I heard you. But that’s here. Why did it start?”

You sighed and stopped what you were doing to look at him. “Why are you so interested all of a sudden?”

He let out a small chuckle. “What? Come on, you’re one of the first Agents here to reject me not once, but three different times.”

You raised a subtle eyebrow. “I was married when you did that.”

“The first time, yes.” Javi corrected. “But that was an honest mistake. The second and third time, there was no ring on your finger. And, after this morning, you technically weren’t married at all. Look, just answer my questions and then I’ll drop it forever.”

“You promise?”

He held up his hand. “Scouts honour.”

You gave a questioned hum. “It’s difficult to imagine you as a Scout.”

“Y/l/n.”

You groaned. “Fine. It started because I got asked out a couple of times by this guy. He seemed nice and all but I wasn’t interested. So, when he asked why I kept saying no, I told him I was married. Swapped my rings over under the bar top before showing it to him. He took it well, apologised and said my husband was a lucky fella.”

Peña continued to listen. 

“Then I moved away. The second time I was with someone but this guy just kept hitting on my friend. She went to the bathroom and then he started on me. Told him I was with someone. He didn’t believe me. So, I showed him my wedding band. Said my friend was married, too. He,” you sighed. “Eventually backed-off. After that it just kinda became my go-to. People I interviewed preferred to see a married woman than a single woman being a cop. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t start out my job as married. But the minute the compliments, and the touching and the dates being pre-arranged because they expected me to say yes…once they all started, I started wearing my wedding ring.”

“So why take it off?”

You shrugged. “Guess I must have forgotten. Besides, nobody has tried anything in the last couple of years. We’ve all been too busy.”

For a moment, Peña’s demeanour seemed to shift. “But I’ve flirted with you.”

You smiled a tired smile and stepped back from the files for a moment. “I work with you, Peña. I like you but I think I’m immune.”

“That hurts.” He deadpanned before placing a hand over his heart. “That…wow.”

You laughed. “I think you’ll bounce back.”

And he did. That night he walked out telling Murphy he had a date with the stall girl he’d met a few days ago. 

The following weeks were hectic as different cases made their way across your desk, all with connections to Peña and Murphy’s biggest case; Pablo Escobar. 

From interviewing victim’s families, to interrogations, to the crappy coffee in the break room. Your days and nights were spent looking over files and dealing with your case loads. Until one afternoon in the breakroom led to something you never had expected. 

There was another Agent working at the Embassy. You’d seen him around a few times, shared a conversation or two. But most importantly, he had seen your wedding ring. You hadn’t missed his behaviour over the last couple of days. It started with smiles in the hallway – innocent enough. Then you found him in your breakroom more. Apparently the coffee was better. Then he was sitting at your table during lunch – apparently his partner was out for the day and he felt like some company. You didn’t miss his eyes clocking your hand. 

“Your wedding band. It’s gone.”

You didn’t know why at the time, but the lie fell from your lips. “Oh, yeah, It’s in for a cleaning. It had a couple dark patches and scuffs on it.”

More things started creeping up. Like how he always stood just that little bit closer and not in a comforting way, when you were both talking. Or how his eyes looked you up and down before you got to speaking distance from each other. 

Then in the breakroom, the ‘compliments’ started. How your hair looked – how it always looked. How you always made ‘women’s clothes look so much better’. How he enjoyed spending time with you because you actually talked to him. 

“You know,” he trailed a finger up your arm and you were three seconds away from breaking it and running to take a scalding hot shower. “I was thinking we could get away for a while. After all, we both deserve a break. Maybe take these lunches outside of the office.”

You stepped back. “I’m married.”

“Oh, come on, we both know that’s a sham.” He told you, taking a step closer as you took another one back. “You never bring him to office parties, there’s no pictures on your desk-”

“I don’t need to prove to you or to anyone else that I’m married.”

He laughed. He actually laughed. “You’re not about to tell me he lives in Canada are you?”

“No. He-”

“He’s right here.”

It was safe to say you were shocked, but the agent didn’t seem to notice as he turned round and found Javi standing in the hallway. 

“Peña. I was just-”

“Scaring my wife?”

The guy was turning paler by the second and yet somehow his ego carried him through. “You mean work-wife, because I have to say Javi, that doesn’t really count.”

“How about a marriage certificate? Does that count for you?” Peña finally found you by his side before he whispered to you.

“You okay, cariño?” All you could do was nod, the shock of him pretending to be your husband still settling over you. 

He looked back to the agent who had been hitting on you. “I’m gonna tell you this once and only once. Hit on my wife or scare her again, and I’ll kill you.”

“Javi-”

“I don’t think Messina would be happy to learn one of her best Agents was being sexually harassed.”

He nodded, backing away. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Javi shook his head. “Not to me. To her.”

Awkwardly, the guy looked from Javi, around the room, back to Javi and then to you. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t speak. Peña’s your husband?

“You can go.” 

Taking Javi’s instructions, he left. Peña then waited a minute before turning towards you. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Thank you, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“But you shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” He asked, holding the coffee pot in one hand and your mug in the other. 

“Javi…” You looked around the room before looking back at him. “This is gonna spread around the office. You and I -- married.”

He shrugged. “What’s the big deal? Now you’ve got a physical person to pretend to be your husband.”

“Javi.” He handed you your cup of coffee before pouring his own. “Please tell me you are aware of your own reputation? And the fact that we are colleagues? And the fact that I have been making a husband up for god knows how long? People are going to know this is fake and then I’ll be judged – heavily – for it.”

“Why would you be judged?”

You rested a hand on your hip. “This is gonna look like I’ve used you to be my pretend husband and everyone will just feel sorry for me and make a big joke about it with you.”

“Except I’m the one that told him.” Peña pointed out. “If anything, that’s what’s going to spread around the office.”

“Ah yes, I can see the headlines now; ‘Agent Javier ‘slut’ Peña finally ties himself down with a female colleague.’.”

He shrugged. “We don’t have to be tied down if you don’t want to.”

You hit him on the arm. “Be serious.”

“Look,” he set his coffee cup down and took you by the shoulders. “If it becomes anything then we just fake it. We already spend most of our time together anyway, and who hasn’t had an office romance once in their life?”

“I haven’t.”

Peña paused for a second before nodding. “Congratulations. You’ve just lost your office romance virginity.”

“Peña.”

He shook it off. “All I’m saying is, if it becomes a thing, we just…roll with it.”

“Roll with it?”

He nodded. “Roll with it.”

“There’s a chance our careers hang in the balance because I’m pretty sure this breaks at least three rules in HR. And your grand solution is to…’roll…with it.’.”

Javi nodded once more. “We’ll be fine. I promise.”

It was not fine. Neither of you were fine. Especially considering two days later you were both forced into Messina’s office where, before you could spit out the truth, Messina interrupted and said she didn’t want to know. Just that you both had to remain completely professional and that if someone ever caught either of you, you’d both be suspended. 

So, things remained somewhat neutral. You both received a couple of looks from other co-workers. Murphy teased both of you relentlessly, despite being the only one to know the truth since you stopped the elevator when all three of you were inside to tell him as much. 

But then the loud rumours started and people didn’t even try to hide them. 

Whilst pouring you and Peña a cup of coffee each – something you had done almost everyday for three years, you could hear people gossiping. 

“Maybe he knocked her up. Shotgun wedding, you know?”

“I don’t think they’re even a couple. I mean, they never show any kind of affection to each other.”

One disagreed with that statement. “No, I’ve seen him with her a few times. Little touches here and there. Must be their love language. Small touches and simple gestures.”

“That’s cute, I guess. But I kinda expected more from Javi. He was always so…you know.”

The woman beside her sighed, “Yeah.”

You walked away more confused about life than you had been since before you started highschool. 

It was clear the rest of the office ‘knew’ about ‘you and Javi’. And that they each had a different opinion on the matter. And some of them you didn’t even know about, but Javi did. 

He’d heard everything from your marriage to him being a sham because he got you pregnant, to both male and female staff asking him “why y/n?”. Except, it was never in a friendly manner. To the men, it was either because they thought “Javi could have any choice he wanted, and he went for her?”, or because he’d gone for one of the women they had wanted “a shot at” themselves. And to the women it was…much of the same thing, with an added jealous streak wondering why he went for “the one woman who didn���t want” him, when most of the other women who’d worked with him “actually wanted” him. 

Javi’s eyes trailed your every move from the coffee station, back to your desk and then towards him. “You okay?”

You zoned back into reality and handed him his coffee. “Yeah. Fine. What have you got?”

Turning the case file around, he told you. 

Around a month or so later, not much had changed. People were still gossiping about your marriage to Peña, the case was gathering little evidence so the constant reviewing of previous case loads was underway. Between keeping up the lie of your marriage to Javi – despite neither of you having to do much out of your normal routine – and the case work and the constant heart attack you got when Messina would stop walking when stood directly between your desk and Peña’s before humming and moving along, you were running out of energy. 

“Come to mine after work.”

You looked around. People were looking but they were too far out of earshot to hear. 

You took the paper from Javi. 

“Why?”

“You’re tired, and I’m tired watching you eat that shitty stuff from the cafeteria. I’m cooking dinner.”

You looked up at him, shocked. “You can cook?”

He smiled. “Yeah, yeah. After work. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

Javi tapped your desk twice before walking away and looking around the office. Everyone who had been looking quickly looked away before looking back at you. Once they found you looking, they turned back to their work. 

For a moment, you looked at the half stale coffee on your desk. It would be nice to have a decent meal considering you’d been eating left-overs for about a week and half. 

And he kept his promise. 

Javi had left work an hour before you were supposed to. He’d grabbed his jacked off the hook behind your desk, bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, your body too tired to fight off leaning into him when he did so. You had meant to clock out of work an hour later but staring at words, losing concentration and trying to focus back in meant when you finally looked at the clock, you were getting close to being forty minutes late. 

“Shit.”

Not bothering to drop your stuff off in your apartment two floors up, you found Javi’s door unlocked like he’d said and you walked inside. 

It smelt like heaven. Good, hot food. And Javi. 

It was quiet as you walked down his hallway and eventually found him relaxing on the sofa, his legs thrown across the rest of it. He was watching reruns. 

“Relax,” you could hear the smile in his voice despite not being able to see his face. “Figured you’d be late. Food’ll be ready soon.”

With a relieved sigh, you dropped your bag by the steps and walked around. He moved his legs for you to sit down and he watched you for a moment as you pushed the heels of your hands into your eyes and leaned back. 

“Tired?”

“Exhausted,” you admitted. 

“Come ‘ere.” His voice was soft and quiet as he reached out for you by the shoulder. Looking at him for a moment before silently agreeing, you let him pull you down until eventually you were laying beside him, your head on his chest, his legs tangled with yours. 

It took him a moment, but Javi removed your hair-tie letting your hair loose before running his fingers through it. You relaxed almost immediately, feeling the once growing headache slowly melt away with each touch of his hand. 

You could have fallen asleep but he didn’t let you. “You’ve gotta eat. I didn’t slave over a hot stove for nothing.”

You groaned a little and buried yourself deeper into his side. “How are you this calming?”

“It’s my natural touch.” Javi told you before kissing the top of your head and sitting up. “Come on. Dinner’s ready. Then I promise, you can fall asleep.”

“Hallelujah.” 

It took you a moment but your head eventually stopped spinning long enough for you to sit up and walk over to the table where Javi had set down both of your meals. And it was one of the best you’d ever had; either because he was a great cook, or you were starving enough that any food that wasn’t cafeteria left-overs would taste like heaven at that moment. Though, you had a feeling it was the first one. 

In silence, you both washed and dried. Until you spoke out the pressing question on your mind. 

“What happens if we meet ‘the one’?”

“What ‘one’?” Javi handed you another freshly washed plate. 

“I mean,” you spun it through the dish towel. “To everyone else, we’re married. But what if we end up meeting the person we actually want to date and marry? What do we do then?”

Javi shrugged. “Guess we get divorced.”

“But we’re not actually married.”

“Then we play it by ear. They say when you know you know…maybe when we know, we just…tell them the truth. But I doubt that’s gonna happen.” Javi nearly crapped himself. “For me, not you. I doubt that’ll happen for me.”

You looked at him. “Why?”

For a moment, he was quiet. Thinking. Deliberating. “Back in Texas, I was gonna get married. Lorraine. She was a wonderful woman but…I don't know. I was driving to the church and I just stopped.”

“You left her at the altar?”

“I never made it to the church,” he admitted. “I don’t know. I suppose at some point I’d settle down but…” Javi shrugged. “I can see it happening for you though, so, whenever you do meet him, I can be there to help explain this whole…situation we’ve got going on.”

You laughed a little at that. “Thanks.”

Twenty minutes later, you were half asleep before Javi pulled you over to him once more. The last thing you could remember was you taking a deep breath in, the scent of him, his home and his cooking fill your senses. 

When you woke up, you found yourself still on the sofa, the news playing on the TV and Javi cooking in the kitchen. It took you a while before your brain registered you weren’t still dreaming and you’d fallen asleep not only at Peña’s, but also on him. 

“Hey,” Peña shook you back awake. “Breakfast is ready.”

You placed your hand over his and nodded. “Okay.”

Neither of you said anything when you ate, just listened to the news that passed over the speakers of the TV. 

“Who taught you to cook?” You asked, turning to look at him as he drove you both to work. 

“My dad. My mom helped, but dad was the one who burnt less stuff.”

After eating, you’d run to your apartment to get a fresh change of clothes and run a brush through your hair, only to be greeted by your husband at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll drive us to work.”

So, now you were driving to work with Javi before hopping out of his car and being led with a warm hand at the bottom of your back through the hallways of work before you both finally reached your desks. 

And for the first time in weeks, you finally had the energy to get through your work day. And so did Javi. 

Although things started to change when you got a surprise visit from your mother.

You’d been working for weeks on the same case and in between all of the case work, the fake marriage and the few months that followed, you’d forgotten to write to your mother. 

It was her one agreement with you moving to Columbia. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop you – it was your job and you were good at it, plus, despite all of the gear grinding you had to do every now and again, you loved it. But knowing she didn’t accept your decision to work as DEA in Columbia would have slowly killed you – and her, too. 

Any time she called, you’d either been dead asleep – either at yours or Javi’s – or at work. So, she took the notion to come and see you. 

So when you walked down the hall towards your office and heard your mother’s voice ask you a question, you felt your entire body crash to a screaming halt before realising what and why she was asking. 

“You’re married?” 

“Mom.”

Your mom called your full name and walked towards you. “What this lovely woman just told me better not be true, or else that means I’ve missed my daughter’s wedding.”

You tried your best to remain calm and relaxed. Two emotions you were desperately clinging onto for dear life. “She tells me his name is Javier Pen…”

For a moment, she looked back to the secretary who nodded and whispered his name again for your mother to repeat with full confidence to you. “Javier Peña.”

“Mom, maybe it’s best we-”

Then the secretary spoke up in excitement. “Oh, there he is. Javi!”

Looking up from his own case file, about to turn down the hallway, he found who was calling him before seeing who was standing in front of them. You and, from what he could guess, your mother. 

Shit. Your mother? No. She was back in the States. Maybe he’d remembered her face wrong from the picture behind your desk. 

Walking over, Javi’s hand came to your lower back before he quickly brushed a kiss against your cheek. “Cariño, you okay?”

You tried to remain calm as you said the next sentence. “Javi, this is my mother. Mom, this is my..husband..Javi.”

Then something you hadn’t expected to happen, happened. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs Y/l/n. Y/n’s told me a lot about you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” But she still shook his hand and allowed him to press a light kiss to the back of it. 

Carefully, Javi stepped back and pulled you closer towards him, your mother’s eyes never once stopping to not examine the couple that stood in front of her. 

Javi nodded. “We are sorry about that. But, maybe we can make it up to you.”

You looked at Javi a little panicked. But your mother was already interested. “Oh?”

“I’m guessing you’re staying here for a few days? Come and stay with us. I can make us dinner and we can all get to know each other.”

Then your mom smiled. Apparently Javi already had her approval. “Well…I think that would be lovely. But don’t think either of you are getting off lightly. I missed my daughter’s wedding that I didn’t even know about.”

“Honey, give your mother our address, I’ll ask-”

She shook her head. “No, no. You all seem busy. I can take myself there. And I’d like to see what’s around the market stalls. Is there anything I can bring for dinner?”

Javi shook his head. “No, not at all.”

You smiled. “He’s got it covered, mom. Just bring yourself.”

“Alright then. Well, I look forward to seeing you both for dinner.”

In the space of five minutes you’d all said your goodbye’s and you had ever so sweetly pulled your husband towards your office before closing the door and blinds and turning back to your partner. 

“What the hell are you thinking?”

Javi shrugged. “She’s come down here to see you. We might as well make the effort.”

“We? Javi. We don’t live together. She’s gonna take one look around my apartment and realise I still live there. She’s gonna take one more look at my face and realise everything that’s happened is a complete sham and then she’s gonna parade it around town that I’m still single. She won’t mean it harshly, but she will.”

“So, we don’t tell her and just say we haven’t had a chance to move things since getting married. We’ll be okay.”

You let out a panicked laugh before you started pacing. “I knew this was a bad idea. It’s bad enough we’re lying to people here.”

“You’re the one that started it before I got roped in.”

“Hey! You roped yourself into this. You were the one that said you were my husband.”

“Would you have preferred for Agent Dickbag to keep pushing?!”

You took a breath. “Javi…I don’t know if I can lie to her. What…what do I tell my family when they find out? This was just meant to keep people like Agent Dickbag away…”

Reading the panic all over your body, Javi stood and walked towards you until you were wrapped in his arms. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ll keep the secret up long enough to make sure nobody else finds out the truth, and then you can just say we rushed into things. We got a quick divorce and moved on, civilly.”

“I think you missed your calling in Acting.” You told him. “I think my mom already has your seal of approval.”

“Really?” He pulled back a little and smiled. “That’s a first.”

“We’ll be okay?”

He nodded. “We’ll be okay.”

And you believed him. 

Because it was true. 

In the space of about fifteen minutes, you and Javi managed to move some things from your apartment, into his to make it seem more…homely. Like two people actually lived there. Especially since your mom would be living in your apartment for the next couple of days until she flew back home to the rest of your family. 

“Will she really check the bedroom?” Javi called from the kitchen. 

You’d moved some things to the second bedside table. One or two books, a couple of hair-ties, plasters, “stray” pens. You tried your best to make it look believable as possible. 

“You don’t know her like I do. This woman is Jessica Fletcher. Unsuspecting to the world, but in fact sees everything. Trust me, you do not want to end up in interrogation with my mother. Happened to a perp once. She came in to visit my dad but he was wrangling a couple of the officers so she walked around, found the perp sitting in holding and she actually got a confession out of him. Cops had been trying all day and nothing. A five minute conversation with my mother and they got a full written confession out of him.”

Javi gave a low whistle. “Wow.”

“Yeah. So, trust me, what I’m doing? It’s gonna, hopefully, save us some grief.”

Javi was still cooking by the time your mom knocked on his door and you brought her inside. Immediately her eyes scanned the place picking up on the pictures, books and music. 

“It smells delicious.”

“He’s a good cook.”

And for the first couple of minutes everything ran smoothly. Your mother did everything you’d expected her to do. She even passed Javi in the kitchen to look into your bedroom. 

“She really did it.” Javi mouthed. 

“Told you so,” you mouthed back. 

“Mom, do you wanna come and sit down? I can get you a drink.”

“I’ll have a soda if you have it, please.”

You got your mom a soda and poured it into a glass with ice, handing it to her as she stood still examining your home. 

“So, how is he in bed?” She whispered a little too loud to you. 

You felt yourself go bright red. Redder still when you heard Javi chuckle from the kitchen. “Mom!”

“What? I’m allowed to ask my daughter these questions. I need to know you’re being satisfied in every aspect of your marriage.”

You groaned and covered your eyes. “Mom.”

“You’re being careful? Using condoms? You know pulling out doesn’t work as birth control.”

You could have died. “Mom, please. Stop.”

Javi let out a small laugh as he walked from the kitchen and handed you a drink. “Mrs Y/l/n, if you really want to know-”

“Oh no. No, Javi, please. Please don’t encourage her.”

“We’re being safe. Having a family right now probably wouldn’t be the best move for either of us.”

Your mother just graced him with a soft smile. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m not,” you groaned a little. “Can we please change the conversation?”

“You know, she’s always been like this.” Your mom told Javi who only seemed to revel in your terror. 

“Really? This isn’t a new thing?”

“No,” you mom told him. “She went just as red when I gave her the birds and the bees talk.”

“That’s because you decided to tell me in the middle of my middle school hallway during a Parent’s Evening.”

“And when I took her to the doctors to get her on the pill.”

You covered your face. “I’m in hell.”

Javi’s hand reached for your shoulder and shook you lightly as he sat on the arm of the chair beside you. You leaned into him. 

“I’d finally got it out of her that she’d had sex and next-”

“And next thing I’m being wrangled into an office chair with the doctor having my mother shout from the rooftops her daughter was no longer a virgin.”

Your mom gasped. “It wasn’t like that,”

You leaned into your husband who’d just let out a small laugh. “Please make it stop.”

“Okay, I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.”

“But I’m glad to know you’re being satisfied. Your face tells me more than you think.”

“Okay!” You stood up quickly and tried to run away, only to feel Javi’s hand reach out and pull you back, spinning you to stand by him. From the light red in his cheeks, he felt a little embarrassed, too, but he seemed to handle it a lot better than you. 

He was chuckling. “Don’t think you’re able to run from this. I wanna know more about you from your mom.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to be here for it.” You tried to make a break for it again, but Javi caught you and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to slowly disappear from sight as you found yourself trapped in his hands and arms, and his gaze on you, just as yours was on his. And for a moment, you wondered what it would be like if you kissed him. 

Little did you know, he’d been thinking the exact same thing. 

Then a timer went off. 

“That’ll be the food.” Javi kissed a quick peck to your temple before standing and walking towards the kitchen, leaving your gaze to trail after him. 

“You really do love each other,” your mom pointed out from her spot on the sofa. “I can see why you got married. You both need to tell me what your wedding was like!”

And so you did over dinner. With the added linger of whatever had happened when he’d pulled you closer to him. 

You caught Javi looking at you a few times, and subsequently, he’d caught you, too. And, without rehearsal, you’d both managed to bullshit your way through explaining why you’d both decided to get married so quickly. 

From you and Javi, your mother had learned you’d both met when you started in Columbia and you were both ‘friends’ for a while. Not much had to be lied about in that department. Javi’s reputation. Your “ability” to make every man that asked you out believe you were taken. How you’d worked together for a long time before becoming actual friends. Then the lies started…right?

About how you and Javi made a true friendship of sorts over the late nights working, swapping smaller stories until something changed. 

“It was like…my heart had stopped and rebooted itself. Suddenly, everything felt like it had shifted and changed somehow.” Peña explained to your mom. “Nothing had ever been more…clearer and more daunting than ever.”

Then Javi looked at you, and you found a mirrored expression. Sadness? Confusion? Desperation? Fear? Realisation? You didn’t know what to call it, but whatever it was, you felt it. For some unknown reason, everything he’d just said rang true in your ears, your head and even your heart. 

Nothing had ever been more clearer and more daunting than ever.

By the time your mom decided she was ready for bed, you were already fast asleep against Javi. At some point in the evening when he’d sat beside you, he’d slung his arm behind you and between the warmth and familiarity of him, you’d let yourself truly relax. 

“I’ll walk you up.”

Your mom shook her head as Javi led her towards the door. “I know my way and you’re both tired. I’ll be okay. Get her to bed.”

Javi looked back at you for a moment and smiled.

“You really do love her.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Your mom smiled at her supposed son-in-law. “I understand why she fell for you, but I hope you know, just because you’re the first one of her boyfriends, well, husband now. But just because you’re the first I approve of, doesn’t mean I won’t be judging you. You look after her, and you look after her well. Love her everyday. It’s not every day someone gets to spend the rest of their lives with my daughter. I hope you see that as a privilege.”

Javi nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

Javi was telling the truth and your mom nodded. “Good. And thank you for dinner. Sleep well.”

“You, too, Mrs Y/l/n.”

Javi waited until he heard your apartment door lock before he shut his own, locked it and kicked off his shoes.

His socks padding his footsteps as he walked back to you, he was careful to pick you up before carrying you to bed and covering you up. You were still fast asleep by the time he climbed into bed beside you, but either way, you naturally rolled towards the slight dip in the bed before reaching out for him like you did almost every time he’d carried you to his bed because you’d fallen asleep in his apartment. 

The only times he didn’t was when he fell asleep with you and woke up as the sun peeked through his blinds in his living room. 

With a contented sigh, you slipped into a dreamless sleep beside him and for a few minutes, he laid awake, listening to your breathing. Then he let his mind slip back through the evening. If the funny feeling in his stomach and chest wasn’t what he hoped it was, but rather was what he suspected it to be, then he would have to soak up your actions as a married couple over the next couple of days before everything went back to semi-normal. 

Because if he was right, and he was growing feelings for you, then these days would have to be enough. Your marriage with him and his marriage to you was meant to be for appearances, only. Nothing real was meant to come out of it, was it? 

Because the feeling in his chest as he looked down at you, asleep by his side and in his arms…that feeling sure felt real. 

Waking up in the morning, you felt more comfortable than usual. No creaky mattress spring giving you a sneak attack from beneath your sofa and into your back, no blinding light coming through curtains you’d forgotten to shut, no cold side to your bed as you turned over. 

Instead, you felt warm. You found warmth. 

Asleep on his front but his arm still across you, you found Javi. Fast asleep, seeming as though not even a gunshot would wake him. 

And rather than jump out of bed or rollaway like you usually would when you found yourself in this position with any man, or even him going off the last couple of months. 

You’d found yourself falling asleep countless times at Javi’s and the majority of the time, you woke up in his bed. 

But waking that morning, especially after the night before, had something feeling different. So you took your time. 

For the first time you…studied him. 

You’d found yourself doing it more and more in recent months. How he sat in a chair, the look on his face when he was annoyed, amused, sometimes even scared. 

And for the first time, maybe ever. He looked…

Peaceful. 

As if it was a Sunday morning and neither of you had to get up for work. Like when he’d wake, you’d both spend the morning in bed before relaxing in your home. 

And for a moment, you let yourself dream about that life. A life where there was no fear of maybe never coming home. A life where you could both…be peaceful. Happy. 

Together, maybe?

After a few moments, you felt a gentle touch against your cheek, and slowly opening your eyes, you found Javi’s hand cupping your cheek, his fingers brushing soft patterns into your skin. 

“Cariño…”

You smiled, finding comfort in the common nickname. “Hey.”

“You been awake long?”

You shook your head, softly. “Not long.”

“Good.” Javi then leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come here.”

Granting yourself permission to do as he said, Javi rolled over onto his back and pulled you into his side before he decided to ultimately face you. 

Down your back, he traced a singular line back and forth as you both synced calming breaths and listened to the comfortable silence of the room. 

“We could call in sick.” Javi said after ten minutes. “We’ve built up enough time to take the day off. You could show your mom ‘round.”

“We can’t,” you pointed out. “What about the case?”

“The case will still be there tomorrow. And besides, if something changes, they’ll call us in-”

Then you both heard the front door lock open. 

“Javi-”

Pressing a finger to his lips, he sat up and so did you. Quietly, he moved over towards his bedside table and pulled out his gun before checking the bullets. 

You both heard the door open and just as Javi was about to leap out of bed, you both heard your mother’s voice. 

“Y/n? Javier? You two sleepy heads awake yet?!”

You let out a huge sigh of relief and sat back against Javi’s headboard. “Jesus Christ.”

“Your mom has a key?” Javi put his gun back and closed the draw as he looked back at you. 

“I told you. Jessica Fletcher.” Then you called out to her. “Mom! We’re in here.”

Letting out a breath, Javi sat himself back beside you just as your mom walked into your bedroom. “Mom, you can’t just break in,” you told her, tiredly. 

“I didn’t break in. I had a key.”

“Both of us could have shot you.”

Your mom looked over both of you and gave a coy smile. “Then it’s a good thing I called out then. You both look…well rested.”

It was too early to even pretend what she thought had happened, had happened. So, tearing your eyes from Javi, you looked to your mom. “Why are you here?”

“Because I have made breakfast for both of you since Javi cooked us such a wonderful dinner last night.”

“Mrs Y/l/n, you really didn’t-”

“Hush now. I was happy to do it. Now, chop chop.” Your mom clapped her hands. “There’s plenty of time for this,” she gestured to you, Javi and the bed, “later. Come on. Before the day is gone.”

And as she walked out, you felt yourself collapse into Javi’s sheets, already feeling your face go hot. 

“She really doesn’t hold back, does she?”

“No.” Your voice was muffled through the sheets. 

Ultimately, Javi convinced you to take the day off with him and after a homemade breakfast, yet another awkward conversation surrounding love-making in the shower – to which Javi nearly choked on his toast. Both you and Javi had showered (separately) before getting changed and deciding to show your mom around the different places in town. 

And despite the stories shared by your mother; thankfully not all of them made you want a hole in the ground to open up the floor. 

You also found spending the day with Javi, outside of work talk, to be more than pleasurable. With his hand in yours, or his arm around you, holding your own across your stomach, you’d both walked side by side for most of the day. He told your mom some things about Columbia even you didn’t know before, easily sharing some stories of his own childhood when your mom asked. 

And you felt…glad, maybe? Like for the first time since moving to Columbia you were home. And it wasn’t just because your mom was there, but rather because of the person who stuck by your side all day, letting you see behind the personal walls he had up at work. The ones that, if you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t know were even there. 

Yet, despite the entire day feeling like one giant butterfly in your stomach at every touch, look  and graze you felt from Javi, nothing made it feel like the tornado it was when your mom asked if she could film your ‘first dance’. 

Dinner had been long over and the TV had shut down. In the background, a few different records played until one came on and your mother gasped. 

“Oh, please. Please let me see your first dance. I love this song, and I’ve always imagined seeing you dance to it the way me and your dad do.”

From your side, Javi lifted his hand. It was up to you. 

Looking at your mom’s face, you couldn’t say no. So, you nodded and both stood. Javi started the song from the beginning and turned back to face you. In a matter of moments, you were in his arms, your hand in his whilst your other lay on his arm. You could feel his firm hand at the bottom of your back, holding you up steadily. 

Finally, leaning into each other, you could feel his moustache at the shell of your ear. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

That was when you found out Javi could dance. At the very least, much better than you could. He led you around the small section of the floor, your temple’s still touching and for a small moment, you closed your eyes. 

You’d also both forgotten anybody else was in the room other than you two. Breathing, heartbeats, pulse, chemistry. It all became one. 

And just as the song slowed, Javi lifted his head to look at you. It was like there was a new light to you in the fading sunlight. New features he’d never noticed before. The small freckles dotted across your face, probably having surfaced after a day in the sun. The soft streaks of baby hairs framing your face. The arch and bow of your cupid’s bow and lips. The light flush in your cheeks as for a moment, he caught your eyes doing the same thing he was. 

Looking. Gazing. Studying. All to commit it to memory. 

Javier Peña, for as best as he’d known, he’d never been so scared in all of his life. But there was one final thing he wanted to commit to memory, whether it be good or bad. And if he didn’t do it then, he was afraid he never would. So, for the first time with you, he did what he wanted to do because, and he hoped, by the look on your face, you wanted it, too. 

With the final few notes of the song, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was firm, steady, strong and then softer. The kind of kiss that you feel long after it’s over. Silence washed over the room as the record came to an end and you and Javi found yourselves looking at each other, only realising you weren’t alone when your mom gasped. 

“Oh, that was just beautiful.” She stopped the recording. “Thank you so much for doing that for me.”

You and Javi seemed to step away from each other despite it being the last thing either of you wanted to do in that moment. It wasn’t long after that your mom decided to go upstairs to bed. And once Javi heard the door lock upstairs, he locked his own and took a moment before turning back around to find you. 

But you were already trying to avoid the conversation that came next. 

Javi took his time. You both needed a moment to find clarity. After the faucet had been running for a few minutes, only to be switched off by you as you washed the plates in the bowl of soapy water, Javi stood at the kitchen door. 

He watched you for a moment, wondering what to say. What just happened? I���m sorry? He didn’t mean for it to…be that way? Did you feel it, too? Did you want it, too? Did he cross a line?

Then he realised he didn’t have to say anything at all. 

You felt him before you heard him walk slowly across the kitchen floor and stand by your side. With a gentle hand guiding your arm, he spun you to face him and in the silence, your faces shared a thousand words between each other. 

Javi brushed your hair from your face before gently cupping your face. It took enough time between each of his movements to let you object if you wanted to. You stepped closer into him. 

Then he kissed you. 

Having dropped the sponge into the sink, you felt yourself tumble against him as your own hands came to pull him closer towards you. Things seemed to move slightly quicker than before. His hands moving down your body to eventually lift you up and move you onto the counter top, his fingers pushing their way through your hair as your own pulled him in by his collar to kiss you once more. 

With your legs wrapping around his waist, securing him against you, you let out a small sigh behind your kiss. Javi only chased those small noises more after you made your first one. 

“J-Javi.” You managed to find your voice in between his kisses. “Wait.”

He stopped, forcing himself to pull his lips from yours. And for a moment, all you could hear was his breathing and your heartbeat. Both rapid. Both unsteady. 

“We…we shouldn’t…”

His hands still tangled in your hair and his forehead against yours, he shook his head in agreement. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

All either of you could do was breathe. Slowly. Trying to catch some form of air that was at least a close equivalent to the others. 

Kissing you was like a lifeline, and without you he was dying. 

His eyes finally gazing into yours, he found your own tracing his face, already reminiscing on the kiss, wanting more. 

Kissing him was like life was finally being pushed back into your lungs, letting you breathe clearly for the first time and without him, nothing was in focus. 

“Fuck it.”

His lips on yours again, he began to devour you and your taste. He could feel your hands pulling him closer to you, like if you’d let go of him, you’d drown. 

He needed you more than he wanted to admit. 

But you didn’t want him to hold back. So leaning away from his kiss for a moment, you made sure he focused on you. 

“Bedroom.”

He was still drunk on your kiss. “Javi, I’m not fucking you on the kitchen counter. Bedroom.”

His lips curved onto a smirk as he pulled you towards the edge and lifted you up. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you we’re married? Cariño, it’s called making love.”

You laughed and so did he before it was muffled out by another kiss. 

By the time morning rolled around, you found yourself wrapped in Javi’s arms, his scent swirling around your senses, locking it into a memory you’d never forget. Even if you wanted to move, you couldn’t. From the arms wrapped around you, to the soreness in your legs, your body was too happily exhausted to move. 

For the next few moments, you watched as he slept peacefully. His mouth parted slightly, simply looking at his mustache made you blush at the memories from barely a few hours previous. Tracing the curves of his face, you leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. 

His arms twitched around you. “Javi, I need to use the bathroom.”

Still half asleep, he returned the next kiss you pressed to his lips before mumbling; “Come back.”

“I will,” you kissed him once more before climbing out of bed and heading towards the bathroom. 

Whilst in the bathroom, you picked up the long forgotten towels on the floor and picked up the tossed body washes and shampoo bottles from Javi and your haphazard entry into the bathroom after the first two orgasms before the third. 

However, you must have taken too long because as you stood at the bathroom skin, a newly familiar pair of arms made their way from holding your hips, to cradling around your waist. 

You could feel the hair from his moustache as he kissed your bare shoulder, making his way towards your neck where you leaned back against his chest and placed a hand behind his own neck to hold you steady. 

“Javi.”

One of his hands slowly made its way under your top before running his fingers from the top of your chest, across your breast and down below the waistband of your shorts. 

“I missed you.” His tongue dampened the graze of his teeth against your neck. 

“Javi.”

“Is this okay, baby?”

You bit your lip, your hips bucking against his fingers, chasing the pressure he was beginning to swirl around your clit. You hummed a response. 

“I need your words, baby. Is this okay? Do you want this? Because I can stop.”

You shook your head quickly and wrapped your hand around his wrist before he pulled away any further. “No. Don’t stop.”

“Whatever you say, baby.”

With his fingers circling your clit and his mouth having free range of your neck, you felt your knees grow weak. “Want me to stop?”

Again, you shook your head. “I need…I need more, Javi.”

“How many, baby?”

“Two, ohh…” Your mouth opened and you threw your head back against his shoulder, reveling in his fingers slipping inside your cunt and his thumb applied pressure to your clit. Then you heard him chuckle. 

“Asshole.”

“You fucking love it, baby.”

You did. You really did. It wasn’t long before Javi could feel your walls pulsing against his fingers, growing tighter for him. And his dick hadn’t even left his pants yet. 

“You’re so fucking wet, cariño. This for me?”

You found the strength to nod. “Just for you, Javi baby.”

But whatever strength or control you had left disappeared as the wave began to crash over you and you chased Javi’s fingers as they pumped deeper and faster inside of you. “Ride ‘em, baby. Take what you want.”

You moaned his name, almost chanting it as you came over his fingers. “Fuck,” Javi growled. “You’re so fucking hot when you come.”

Letting out a breathy laugh, you felt the ache in your legs, still leaning against Javi. 

“Then maybe you should do it again.”

Sharing a look with Javi, he smirked before biting down on your bottom lip, then kissing it better. Pulling his fingers from inside of you, he slowly spun you around by your hips until you faced him. Once he’d tasted everything he could from your mouth, he teasingly made his way across your jaw, down the length of your neck, under your clothing before pulling your soaked shorts down your legs, leaving your glistening and sensitive cunt for him to see. 

Then he tasted the rest of you. 

Pushing you onto the edge of the sink counter, you white-knuckled the edges in fear of gripping his hair too tight to pull him closer to where you needed him. 

You could feel the burn of his moustache against your inner thighs, panty-line before finally his tongue circled your already sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, Javi.”

“You like that, baby?”

You nodded, “Fuck. Yeah.”

“Want more?”

“Y…yes. Javi, please.” Your hips bucked as you chased the feeling of his tongue licking your pussy. “Fuck, Javi.” You let out a gasp as his tongue dipped inside of you for a moment. “Fuck, right…right there.” With one of your hands tangled in his hair, you pushed him closer in order to taste all of you. 

And just as you leaned back to grant him more access, he pulled back. You whimpered, wanting him back. “Touch yourself.” 

“Javi-”

“I want to see how long you can hold it before I fuck you. Touch yourself.”

So you did. All the while watching him take his sweet time watching you as he pulled down his own underwear and pulled a condom on, pumping himself a couple of times before finally settling closer to you. 

“I want to watch you cum again.” And so he did. 

Filling you with his dick, inch by inch, he felt you stretch around him, swearing as you took him in. And then he took his time with you. Reveling in every needy buck of your hips, chasing his dick before he couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed you just as much as you were begging for him. 

Moaning his name over and over as your orgasm hit you, Javi watched as you came over his dick, him finishing not long after you did. 

Sweaty and covered in sex, Javi pushed the fallen hair from your face and kissed your lips after the silence had settled away from heavy breathing and racing hearts. “We should get cleaned up.”

Pulling his cock from inside of you, he disposed of the condom before walking towards the shower and turning it on. And over the next forty minutes, Javi’s hands were all over your naked body before his fingers tugged at your hair as the tiles of the floor made indents in your knees. By the time you’d both finished, gotten washed and finally dressed, Javi was changing the sheets as you placed the ones from the night before inside his washer. 

For the rest of the day, Javi rarely left your side.

Going back out to the markets with your mom, his hands were constantly finding ways to touch you. His hand pinching onto the skirt of your summer dress, his fingers grazing against your hip and lower back as he changed from standing on one side of you to the other. Holding your hand around you, his arm across your shoulders, his lips in your hair, on the shell of your ear as he talked to you. And when you’d stopped inside a cafe, he sat next to you, his arm across the back of your chair which practically was sitting in between his legs as his body was constantly turned towards you. 

And when you’d both finally gotten home, your mom saying she was going for a nap, the moment Javi’s door shut, the bags were dropped and your back was against the wall of his hallway, his lips on yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“So have I.”

Then a question fell from your lips. “How are we going to keep this up? At work, I mean.”

“They already think we’re married.” He kissed your neck. 

“I’m being serious, Javi.”

“So am I.”

“Javi, Messina already warned us what would happen if she ever caught us. And that was before we were even…”  A couple? Fucking? Dating? Married?

Javi smiled. “So we keep it a secret.”

“Says the guy who can’t keep his hands off me for more than two seconds. You’ll never be able to keep it a secret.”

“Says the woman whose been eye-fucking me all day. Are you sure you can keep a secret?”

“I can keep a secret.” Then Javi noticed your coy smile. “In fact, I’ve been keeping one all day.”

Taking his hand in yours, you pressed his hand to the dip of your hips. He couldn’t feel anything but fabric. Then it hit him. With his chest flaring and his dick hardening, he stepped closer towards you. 

“Mrs Peña…have you been naked under that dress all day?”

You bit your lip. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

His eyes flicking to the hem of your dress, he looked back up at you before slowly dragging the fabric of its skirt up and bunching it in his hand until he could slip his hand under it. And when he was met with bare skin, he swore. 

“Fuck.”

“I’ve been hoping you’d fuck me all day,” you admitted. “I wanted to be ready.”

“Since you walked out of that fucking bedroom in this dress…I’ve wanted to fuck you in it.”

Pulling him closer to you, your voice turned into a low whisper. “Then you better get on with it, Agent Peña. Before I do it myself.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Capturing your lips on his, his finger coaxed at your pussy, already feeling your wetness build for him. As his fingers began to curl inside of you, you let out a moan before your fingers deftly unbuckled his belt and jeans. Javi let out a small whimper as your fingers stroked down his cock, wiping the pre-cum away with your thumb before finally pumping him a few times. 

“Take it easy, baby. Otherwise I’m not gonna- fuck.”

With one hand, Javi picked you up where you stood, his fingers digging into your ass before he guided his tip in. Letting out a moan by his ear, you told him to start moving. 

“Fill me up, baby.” 

And he did. 

Fucking you against the wall in his hallway, Javi pulled the top of your summer dress down and began leaving his mark across your collarbone and down the bow of your breast, all the while his cock pumped in and out of you before filling you up with him cum. 

“That’s it baby,” Javi told you as you screamed his name as you rode his dick. Then he watched you come. He’d never get sick of that sight. It seemed to get hotter each time. You begging him for more, your moans, his name falling from your lips as he makes you unravel completely. 

But he wasn’t done with you yet. Pulling out from you, he moved you both down the hallway and towards the sofa where he made you come again before moving into the kitchen where he finally fucked you senseless on the kitchen counter. 

Both of you wished it could have continued like that forever, but sadly after your shower, both you and Javi were interrupted by the jingle of keys in the door as your mom let herself in before you and Javi could continue your heavy make-out session on the sofa. 

But that was something you both had to get used to. 

Interruptions. 

From people banging on the copier room door thinking it was jammed, to people walking back into the office after their lunch breaks. But despite the ever growing need to constantly be touching him, or him touching you, you’d both found subtler ways to show how much you not only wanted each other, but also needed each other. 

From the smaller touches when he always found an excuse to stand beside you, to the ever longing looks you both gave to each other as the other one walked away from the desks. There were crappy cups of coffee always being poured, lunches being made and shared, blankets being used to cover up the one that fell asleep first, the knowing looks when a case load became too much, the soft moments spent after a long day of work just laying together on the sofa watching crappy TV and falling asleep, dancing to slower records on down-days, quick kisses goodbye during lunch or during a stakeout for cases, jealous and warning glares being given to those who tried to flirt with the other, and finally slow Sunday mornings that were spent inside the apartment, neither of you leaving unless for a dire emergency. 

And somewhere between all of that, you and Javi had taken a flight to your home where your family and his watched as you both swore actual wedding vows to each other; your wedding party not realising it was the first time for both of you. 

Maybe it had taken a while for you both to come together, and maybe it wasn’t the most conventional of get-togethers. But it was yours and Javi’s story. One that, the more you thought about it, started off with those softer moments. One that always had, and always would, contain those smaller touches and simple gestures. 

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141!(Part 5)

The shithead owner decides that he needs to sign up for a "restaurant renovation" show. Chaos ensues.

"A fucking TV show?"

Gaz frowns while polishing glasses.

"Told him it was a bad idea."

Price shrugs, lighting a cigar. You are horrified, being on the screen for millions of people to see was nerve wracking. And it'll be the first time you meet the owner.

"Restaurant renovation... Lik' he gives twa fucks aboot renovating this shitehole."

Johnny ashes his smoke and passes it to you. You take a deep drag and sigh, this is gonna be a disaster.

~

Cameras are set up everywhere, everyone's mic'd up, there are too many people in too small of a space. Some obnoxiously loud man introduces himself. He seems to be an amalgamation of every TV host you've ever seen, wearing too much cologne and too much hair gel. He puts a hand on your shoulder,

"The place looks terrible but at least they got something nice to look at here."

He flashes a smile, cheap veneer blindingly white. You awkwardly laugh while Price steps in, introducing himself. You scurry away to the back where the rest of the boys are,

"I want everyone to be on their best behavior today. No fucking around. Don't make me look bad."

The owner is a bland man, average height and weight, with a shitty haircut and wearing an ugly flashy shirt. He turns around and briefly introduces himself, he already smells like liquor. Great. He gets waved over to get interviewed by the host. You and the guys watch from the other end of the restaurant. It's quite embarrassing, the host pointing out how run down the place looks, the menu is confusing and overwhelming, and then asks if he's drunk,

"I can smell the alcohol from here Carl... it's only 11am buddy."

The owner stutters and blinks,

"I- just uh, just a crazy night is all."

The host stares, unconvinced. Carl shifts awkwardly in his chair. The next segment was ordering food apparently, so you were up. You walk up to the table as the host asks you a barrage of questions,

"How would you say the fish is here? Is everything fresh? What do you think of the steak? Do you have any recommendations?"

When you say you only ate the fries from here and he laughs loudly,

"That is not a good sign folks!"

He stares at the camera, showing off teeth that were too big for his mouth before you walk off and punch in the order. There's a cameraman recording John and Simon cooking,

"Steak and potatoes."

John reads the slip out loud, they move around the kitchen while the owner watches. For such a simple dish there's a lot of chaos, Carl is yelling at them to move faster and cook properly, John is busy arguing with Carl and burns the steak, Simon plates up the food and hands it off to you. You place the plate down in front of the host,

"Oh...oh my God..."

You keep a straight face, hands behind your back. The host looks back up at you,

"Does the food usually come out like this?"

There's a tone of disgust and concern, his eyebrows turned up, you shrug. He stares back down at the filet and cuts into it,

"It's very impressive that one is able to overcook such a large piece of meat. That takes...skill."

You watch concertedly as he picks up a piece and puts it into his mouth, it looks like he wants to cry.

He goes on to complain about the quality of the food to the camera as he walks to the kitchen,

"At least it's clean back here. I've seen kitchens in wors- is that a fucking pigeon?"

Sure enough, there is. How the fuck did it get in here?

"Oh! I just left the door open to let some fresh air in..."

Carl awkwardly tries to catch the bird while the boys watch amusedly, even the camera crew stifle a laugh.

"Christ Almighty, what is wrong with you man?"

The host shakes his head, watching the whole scene in disbelief. Eventually, the bird is out of the building and the sweep of the kitchen continues.

"Food is not expired, everything is stored properly, it's all very well organized. I was honestly expecting worse."

The host walks up to the bar next, plucking up bottles and examining them,

"So, Kyle is it? How long have you been working here for?"

"Just a little over five years."

Gaz leans against the bar. There's a gasp and the host waves the camera over,

"Look at this shit,"

He points at the label,

"Expired in August,"

You look over at Gaz and Soap, they look like they're about to piss themselves, holding back laughs.

"Of 2012!"

The host looks disgusted,

"Why didn't you throw this away?"

"Carl told me to not toss anything."

Kyle shrugged. Soap is almost in tears, shaking, trying to bite back a howl of laughter.

The next two days are like this, you don't know why Carl hasn't pulled the plug on this fiasco yet,

"I think he's getting drunker as the days go by."

Johnny says, ashing his cigarette. There's a nod from Simon,

"I think he enjoys being embarrassed, seems like the type to get off on that."

'The big finale' as the host calls it, means getting a new menu, refreshing the cooks(John's) skills, and cleaning out the bar. The place is opened and there's a line out of the door. It's overwhelming, the customers are putting on a show, acting like dickheads and sending everything back even when there's nothing wrong with the food. Simon and John are on top of everything, putting out food as fast as possible, Carl is shitting himself running around the kitchen like a headless chicken. The night goes by fast and everyone is at the bar,

"So the cooks are for the most part competent, the waitress is amazing, and the bartender is well... The man can do no wrong. The problem here is you,"

The host points at Carl who is fucking sloshed swaying back and forth,

"I genuinely think this restaurant would be better off without you."

Carl starts bawling. The host is visibly uncomfortable. The boys and you are looking at each other. Then when all the cameras and lights are gone, it's all back to normal. Carl is looking for reassurance from anyone and you and the boys just pack up and head home, Price patting him on the back,

"You'll be alright."

~

A few months later, you're all sat on the couch watching the TV. Johnny's over the moon pointing at the screen,

"Look thare A am! See hou sexy A look?"

He's smiling and waving at the camera in the background of the scene where Carl is crying his eyes out. That gets a laugh out of Gaz,

"You're a sick bastard, Soap."

Once the episode dropped, the restaurant got busy for a few months. Most of the customers are horny women ogling at Kyle. On occasion you get the request to bring out "the scary looking one" and you just laugh it off.

"You're so lucky working with all these guys, I don't know if I'd be able to control myself,"

A particularly drunk woman said to you one day. You just smile while Kyle winks at you over his shoulder.

[drgnflyteabox]

mdni - the 141 find a cozy place to stay during an op (that's definitely all that happens). implied fat!reader

(dubcon, poly, gangbang, anal, price is in charge of everyone<3)

So blizzards can happen in the blink of an eye on high, isolated mountains, right?

And the 141 have done missions in rural places, snowy places, mountainous places, right?

And there are tons of tiny little isolated towns, all over the world, built around these mountains for one reason or another - coal mining, logging, etc.

Now imagine the 141 on a mission, somewhere cold, somewhere isolated, a place that feels like the edge of the world. Desolate.

Now imagine the 141 seeing, in the near distance, a winking pale orange light. It's a good enough place as any to approach - it isn't safe to be caught in this blizzard, anyhow. Even with their gear, the safehouse is still an hour away and the snowfall seems historic...

Now imagine you're sitting in your family home, all alone, going a little crazy with cabin fever. Your woodstove is burning hot, but you're still cuddled up in knits and a thermal underneath. You're making stew for dinner with root vegetables from the basement cellar, it's bubbling and softening for you while you crochet, trying to keep your mind off the monumental shoveling task you'll have to deal with tomorrow

Until there's a knock on the door.

"Hello ma'am, I'm just wondering if me and my friends here could rest until it's safe to continue our hike?" (I love the way gaz says ma'am)

Hike? Nobody hikes up here - you've only ever seen a couple tourists in your life, thrill seeking ice climbers who came and went.

And they certainly weren't dressed in snow camo, hiding guns behind their backs.

But you were raised right, and the man at the door has kind eyes - he's handsome, too, but you'd never say it out loud. Gaz pushes the door further in when you tentatively open it, and in comes barreling three more massive men, their boots stomping and leaving a mess.

Soap smells the stew on the stove and beelines for it, lifting his helmet to inhale deeply.

Ghost sweeps the room like it might be hiding an enemy somewhere- even though it's one room total, the stove in the middle, separating the kitchen and your bed.

Price approaches you all apologetic, apologizing for "these ruffians", holding his camo helmet to his gut like it's formalwear. "Apologies, sweetheart, we weren't expecting the weather to turn on us."

You aren't quite sure how you end up sitting on prices lap, naked except for your socks, while he squeezes your stomach and grunts in your ear not to be shy when putting your weight on him. His other hand is cupped over your pussy, murming thank yous for feeding his men.

They're eating your stew, stripped out of gear, cocks tented in their white cargos.

"We're a gaggle of lucky boys, eh?" Soap says. "Nice, cozy, soft girl. Warm cabin. A man could get used to this."

You wind up pressed down on your mattress, hands held behind you by one man while another fucks you hard, spurred on by price behind them. At first, it's johnny, whining high in his throat while price guides his hips and gaz holds your arms by your head. "Need to thank her proper, boy." The obvious authority in prices voice makes your pussy clench around him, and he shakes over you, trying hard not to come too early.

Gaz reaches down from where he's holding your arms, pinching your clit until you buck against Johnny and squirt around him.

Then it's gaz, who lifts your legs and squeezes your big thighs, locking eyes with ghost. He's steady, only breaking composure when Simon praises him. "Thats a lad. Good, just like that, Kyle." He's the first to ever make you come from penetration alone, hips moving in a way that makes your abdomen tighten and tighten and tighten until you reach the longest orgasm of your life, nearly crying with how intense it feels.

Price ends up flipping you over - nudging you up on your hands and knees, the bed creaking with the combined weight of he and his lieutenant taking their places in front and behind you.

Simon slips his cock in your mouth, staring down at you through the balaclava. You can barely make out a thick scar, one that looks like it might go through his whole face. You lose focus when price pushes his fingers in your ass, though, and you squeal.

There's no where to run except further down simons cock, though, where you gag, spit running all down your chest onto the bed.

"Shh, sh," Price rubs your flank like you're a spooked animal. He squeezes the ample flesh of your asscheek appreciatively. "Jus wanna give your poor pussy a break, aye? I reckon she's tired,"

He pushes into you impatiently and it burns a little, but he soothes it with a palm over your soft, sore cunt. Rubs a thumb over your clit slowly, jostling you back and forth over simons cock.

You come once more before the night is over, tears finally running down your cheeks, mixing with your saliva, with simons come. It's a painful orgasm, wrenched from you - but that makes it all the sweeter.

They wipe you down and spoon feed you more stew, after, to recover your energy :') price has the boys tidy their boot tracks and put away leftovers while he and Simon hold you from both sides. They can barely fit with you on your bed, but tucked in like this - on top of your furs, naked as the day you were born, praised for your soft body and "What a good girl you are, babydoll."

Sigh

I'm sure this idea has probably been written but I was listening to this and couldn't stop imagining it lmfao

[amdiriel]

lonely

Azriel x fem!Archeron!reader

SUMMARY: Reader, the second Archeron sister, finds herself overwhelmed by the sight of her sisters in their respective happinesses one day. Luckily Azriel stops by her room in time to comfort her.

WARNINGS: feelings of loneliness (real), fluff, Azriel being hot (that’s a given), slight suggestiveness at the end, first time writing

NOTE: hey, i’m diri! been sort of a silent spectator on this tag for a while but then i wrote this and thought hell why not!!

WORDS: 2.5k

main masterlist PART 2

•••

The emptiness of loneliness burned hollowly in my chest, blooming when I entered my room at last, stumbled onto my bed.

Pathetically, I just wanted what my sisters had. I didn't dare show it, but I ached to be held, loved, to love fiercely and be happily, healthily devoted to someone.

I wanted to be touched and adored. I wanted to build a life with someone. To not have to look, wish, hope, or dream about it anymore.

My knees curled up under my chin as I sat there in the nest of my bedding, looking blankly at the wall as the tears came.

I hadn't realized that I had been softly weeping until the knock came to my door. Fuck. I heard his soft, beautiful voice announcing himself, asking to come in.

When I don't reply, frozen in terror that he'll come in and see me in this state, Azriel calls my name again in question. I know he can sense me behind the door, and when I sniff, he calls lowly, "I'm coming in."

Panic sweeps through me as he pushes open the door, eyes falling on me in concern as I wipe at my face. The book he borrowed from me goes from his hand to a side table as he comes to me, forgotten. "Hey. Hey, what's going on?" he asks with the softest tenderness I've ever heard him speak. To know that it was reserved for me makes my chest ache for it even more, and another little sob slips from me. He sits on my bed and reaches for me, hands going to my arms and rubbing up and down.

“I’m sorry,” I croak, shaking my head and trying to draw back and wipe my face. He doesn’t release me.

“No,” he says firmly, squeezing my arms. “No, you’ve done nothing wrong. Let me help you.”

I shake my head again, can’t seem to stop, trying to wave him off. “It’s not something you can help with,” I rasp. “It’s my own shit, I’ll deal with it—“

“Tell me what’s going on.” His tone brooks no argument.

I can’t speak for a long moment, for several long moments. The words are embarrassing, stuck like molasses on my tongue. To say them would be to humiliate myself. But he isn’t relenting. I realize that five hundred years of extracting information from people as spymaster had made him patient in a way I could never outpace.

“It’s just hard,” I finally settle on, not quite processing my own words. “It’s hard seeing them—my sisters, I mean. Sorry, I think I’m just tired, out of it—“ He shakes his head with a squeeze of my arms.

“Stop trying to excuse your feelings. It’s merely how you feel,” he murmurs, watching me carefully. A breath puffs uncomfortably in my chest, but I go on.

“I’ve always made myself content in the fact that something like that didn’t really happen to people like me. I’ve never known why,” I rasp, the color finally rising in my cheeks as I gear up to admit, “But I’m—“ I choke. “I just see them and I feel so lonely.”

His expression shutters and his eyes soften. “Sweetheart,” he whispers, stroking my arms. To hear that word from his lips is already a shock, but knowing it’s directed at me makes me fall apart more.

“I’m not one for self pity, ever,” I get out as another cry raises the pitch of my voice. “I just feel so alone.”

A huff of a sigh leaves Azriel’s lips and he draws me forward. “Come here.”

My breath shudders in my chest as I try not to lose it, try to calm myself as the tears stream hotly down my face. “I’m sorry,” I whisper again. “I feel ridiculous. It just hurts sometimes. Right here.” I rub my chest where the hollow ache is.

He hums and soon I’m in his arms. He gently scoops me onto his lap and tucks my head into the crook of his neck. He’s so warm, so strong, and smells so good that I shudder again and let myself break in his embrace.

His hushing and stroking over my hair lulls me as every bad feeling seeps out of my body. He holds me quietly until my crying ceases, until my shaking stills. Until I am merely breathing tiredly against him.

I could fall asleep like this, could die peacefully here. His hand strokes my hair again. “Feel better?” he asks, his voice a quiet rumble that rumbles in his chest, therefore mine.

I blush profusely at how ridiculous I’m being, but make no move. I nod. I can’t move, can’t look at him. I must be the silliest, most ridiculous woman—female, I correct mentally—at my age that he’s ever seen. He’s centuries old and has a better grip on things than I do. I know he feels bad for me, but any respect he had before must have loosened considerably in the minutes he’s seen me in this state.

As I’m trying to overcome my embarrassment, he strokes my hair softly and begins on a murmur, “I get this way too. I feel it right in my chest, like you said. I have for a long time.” I don’t dare breathe or move. He’s revealing very vulnerable feelings and I fear one move will scare him off. He sighs. “It is difficult—seeing everyone pair off and be happy. Just as difficult to see my brothers as it is for you to see your sisters that way. But you aren’t alone. You’re never alone.”

I sigh, whispering haltingly, “I know. But—it isn’t the same, is it?”

He shakes his head. “It isn’t,” he concedes, “But you shouldn’t doubt that you’ll find that. You’re more than deserving of it.”

A little flutter in my chest, and of all things, a smile blooms on my face. “You are too, Azriel.”

I feel his smile against my hair.

I sigh and draw away even as my body screams in argument, not looking him completely in the eye. “I really am sorry. For—this.” I gesture nonsensically between us, eyeing the wet stain at the collar of his shirt with a small wince. “I really am not usually like this,” I grumble.

His soft chuckle draws my eyes to his face, and I find him looking down at me softly, amusedly. “I know. You’re usually very formidable, self-assured. It was a surprise to see you so…” I raise my brows as he searches for the word, something he usually never has to. “Weighed down,” he settles on.

I don’t know what to say. I settle on a small shrug of my shoulder as I take my sleeve and wipe my face again, sighing as a calm settles over me again.

When I glance back over at him, he’s still observing me quietly. “What?” I croak.

“Nothing,” he says softly with a shrewd yet not unkind look in his eye. “It’s just funny.” I frown, but he continues on before I can interrupt. “You give yourself a private moment to let it out, then you reset. Like nothing happened.”

I feel a heat in my face at the accuracy.

“It’s funny because, well,” he shrugs, “It reminds me of myself.”

I glance warily over him with questioning tilt of my head. “You don’t seem like the type to deal in self-pity. Or crying at all for that matter,” I reply wryly.

His lip curls in amusement, and something hot curls in my stomach at the sight of it. My expression remains carefully composed, as it always is. “I have my moments,” is all he says.

I roll my eyes, shifting on the bed and sniffing. “Cryptic as always too.”

His laugh is quiet yet rumbling, and even though we don’t touch anymore, I feel the sound tumble deliciously through my muscles and bones, all over my body. “There she is,” he practically drawls, mirth lighting his hazel eyes. Cauldron bloody boil me.

Then he softens again. “But know that anytime you feel like this, you don’t need to wait for a private moment to yourself. Come talk to me,” he offers. Tingling warmth blooms in my chest. In my handful of years since turning fae and finding my place in Velaris, he’s been a kind but somewhat infrequent friend due to his busy nature. “What you feel isn’t anything to be ashamed of, and I’d rather you not bottle it all up.”

I eye the impenetrable Spymaster again, brow raised. “Bit of the pot calling the kettle black, aren’t you?”

He laughs in earnest now, and I watch in wonder as it lightens his features. And again that sound—

I’d been careful not to let my foolish mind not delve too deep in daydreaming about the silent, beautiful specter I had met in my house in the human lands those years ago. Everything about the fae then and even now had just seemed so elevated above my little life. And as hard as I worked, as skilled as I had become with my new body and abilities, I still felt like a complete novice, like a schoolgirl amongst grown men and women most days.

So no. I would not be the fool that fell for the male way above her very modest level, not when I knew he’d be too nice about it, and make me feel even more like the fool.

“What are you thinking about?” his voice breaks through my reverie. He’s eyeing me with amusement now, and a hint of fondness.

I force the heat creeping to my cheeks way down within the depths of myself, determined not to make more of a fool of myself than I already have. “Just wondering why you came in here. I wasn’t—“ A blush rises to my cheeks in earnest now. “You couldn’t hear me crying from the hall, could you?”

He shakes his head, hands creeping forward over my bedspread as though to placate me. “No, no. I just came to return the book you let me borrow,” he replies gently, and again my eyes fall to the book he had dropped on the table near my door as he came in to comfort me. Oh. Right. “You were right. I did like it.”

A small smile creeps up on my lips. “Of course I was right.” He chuckles again, and I relish that I can make him do so.

“Will it inflate your ego terribly if I tell you that you have surprisingly good taste?” he drawls. I let out a playfully indignant noise and gently shove his shoulder.

“Says you. You may be quiet, Shadowsinger, but don’t think I haven’t noticed you peacocking more than once,” I toss back. He draws closer with a little grin. Holy fuck.

“Well when I’m as talented as I am, why shouldn’t I?” he purrs, the most Rhys-like I’d ever seen him. I hold onto my composure for dear life.

“Yeah, well, you can take your peacocking and incredible talent off my bed and out of my room,” I retort with a scowl, shooing him as I fight blushing like a schoolgirl. He laughs, but slides smoothly off my bed and stands, hands raised in mock surrender.

I realize then that he had taken me from my depressive state, comforted me until I calmed, then goaded me until I smiled and bantered with him again.

His eyes go from mirthful to soft, and a beat passes where he’s looking down at me still sitting on my bed, and me at him. His lips quirk. “I’m glad you’re alright. Come to me with anything. I mean it,” he reiterates with gentle firmness. I nod my head.

He begins to leave, but I blurt his name and he halts. As soon as he looks at me again, I murmur, “Thank you.” He nods his head once, eyes kind.

I expect him to turn, to leave. But he steps toward me. I still as his hands gently hold the sides of my head, and he drops a single kiss to my hairline. I don’t move or breathe until he leaves the room with one last look at me over his shoulder.

My door snicks shut and a rush of breath leaves my mouth as my hands fly up to my face. My back finds the duvet.

I was fucked.

—

Azriel walks leisurely down the hall from her room back to his once more, musing on the hour that had just passed in her room.

He’d always found the second Archeron sister to be the most interesting female he’d ever met.

Clever, strong, funny. Beautiful, absolutely, in her own way. She was interesting to look at—that counted far more than conventionally beautiful.

The kind of person you don’t let get away.

He’d have to play this carefully. Had he had thoughts these past two-three years about the fact that they were both the remaining unmated ones of their respective sibling units? Yes. But he knew that even as it drew the two of them together in a careful dance around the line, it could also end very poorly if that was the only assumed reason that he wanted her.

Which it wasn’t.

Sometimes he curses that of his brothers, he hadn’t met her first. He could have, should have wooed her. Then, at least he could be enjoying the same felicity his damned brothers were currently enjoying with two of her sisters.

But she’s proving to be a tough one to crack.

It was no matter, he decides. He hadn’t failed to notice at least some attraction on her part. But she brushes off most things with a clever joke, much to his frustration.

Tonight had been a step forward. Even as it had killed him to see her in such a state, he thanked every bit of fate that led him to her room as she had been breaking.

So he could be the one to hold her, put her pieces back together.

He could have held her in his arms, in his lap until the day he died.

But he knew getting her to come back out, to grin and tease him again was more important than his selfish desires. And gods, what a sight she was when she did.

It was no matter, he thinks to himself again. He’d be patient. He’d be the person she’d lean on until he could make her want him. Maybe she’d allow him to touch her in the way he envisioned in his most needy moments in the dark of night. He enters his bedroom and sighs.

Fuck. It might be another one of those nights after all.

•••

NOTE: hey so uhhh if literally anyone cares i’ll make a part 2

[irisintheafterglow]

kid megumi starts a fight. you and satoru finish it.

being fresh out of high school while simultaneously taking care of a second grader was an interesting experience, to say the least. today was no different.

"oh my god; he what? i'll be there in a second, fucking hell," you sputter as you all but shoot upward from your desk, sweeping the post-mission paperwork to the side and grabbing your car keys from the bedside table. the car makes strained vrooms while you impatiently pump the gas pedal, accelerating down the street like a bat out of hell. swerving into the nearest parking space you could find, you forcefully swing open the door to the front office to find satoru waiting in a plastic chair. he mutters an exasperated oh, thank god under his breath before standing and taking your hand, leading you down the hall to the principal's office.

"is he okay?"

"he's fine, i promise." you look at him skeptically, remembering all the times megumi was "fine" yet had scrapes that satoru didn't know how to clean up. "i'm serious. i saw it myself. the nurse cleaned up his nose and iced the hit on his face."

"he got hit in the fucking face?" your jaw drops in shock and you quiet your voice to a hushed whisper outside the principal's office door. "what the fuck happened that he got punched in the-"

"fushiguro's guardians, please come in. we're ready for you," an irritatingly nasally voice calls from inside and it takes all of your willpower not to blast the door open until it's shredded to pieces. megumi's principal sits behind an obtrusively large wooden desk, with the boy sitting by one end and two empty chairs at the other. you immediately drag one of the chairs over to sit by his side, but a wrinkled hand stops you. "please sit across from him, not beside him. he must receive proper punishment and that begins with accounting for his own actions," the principal instructs you and you catch satoru's jaw clench in restrained anger. he wanted to tear the principal's head off for telling you what to do, especially since it was regarding megumi.

"i'll decide where i want to sit, thank you," you reply with forced politeness, sliding the chair next to a defeated megumi. he scoots as close to you as he can and links his pinky finger in yours. it's small, but you know he's trying to manage his anxiety along with yours. satoru shrugs indifferently at the principal but shoots you a proud wink when no one is looking. "they cleaned you up, yeah?" you ask megumi softly and he nods, wincing slightly when your knuckles lightly brush the bruise on his cheek. "i'm sorry, baby-"

"fushiguro instigated a fight with three sixth grade students, all of them older than him. we believe he may have developed issues dealing with his emotions, specifically anger," the principal informs you and you make a great deal of effort to wipe the glower from your face. "student witnesses say that he struck first, and-"

"do you know why he started the fight in the first place?" your eyes narrow on the scrawny, shriveled man behind the oversized desk and he shrinks away slightly.

"no, b-but we believe that violence should not be-"

"violence or not, shouldn't you be responsible for understanding why this occurred outright?" your voice is strained and tense, slightly shaky with repressed anger. you stare daggers into the old man's sunken eyes and catch satoru watching the whole scene with pride. here was a man who knew nothing about a child you considered your own, trying to argue that he started a fight for no reason when you knew megumi would never harm a bee, even if it stung him. before you're able to start a physical fight with the idiot school official that probably saw more board meetings than actual students, satoru's voice cuts in.

"forgive me, but i don't appreciate your tone-"

"we'll be sure to properly discipline him at home, sir," he states emotionlessly, and you wordlessly thank him for wrapping the meeting up quickly. after a few more glares and aggressive signatures on paperwork waiving the school of any responsibility for megumi's injuries, you walk out of the office with satoru's arm around your shoulders and megumi's hand grasping yours. "alright, firecracker. you fizzled out yet or do we need to take you to a kickboxing class real quick?" he presses a tender kiss to the side of your head, clearly unbothered by the way you barreled through that ridiculous meeting.

"put me in an empty field away from people, and i'll make a kickboxing class look like a fucking knitting circle," you mutter vengefully as satoru chuckles under his breath.

"alright, megs. you gonna tell us what happened or are we actually going to need to get you a therapist?" megumi glances off to the side, irritated, but you squeeze his hand once in reassurance that, no matter what happened, you'd figure it out together.

"they were hurting tsumiki," he says quietly and both you and satoru freeze, looking at each other in careful understanding. "she was saying it was just a joke, but i caught her crying while we were walking home."

"so, you decided the best option was to fight them," you say slowly. satoru's hand rubs loving circles on your shoulder and you ask the question you've been holding onto since he called. "well, did you beat them?"

"i did, and that's why everyone is so angry," the boy shrugs and you huff a tired exhale. "are you mad at me?"

"no, megs. i'm glad you defended your sister, but i wish you'd told us what was going on before acting on your own."

"yeah, we could have helped you," your boyfriend whispers and you elbow his stomach lightly. not yet, you mouth to him. let's drop him off first.

"the kids said they were going to get my parents involved. is that why you're here?"

"yes and no," satoru says, opening the car door for you as you slide into the passenger seat. he could have warped back to the school, but he'd silently indicated that he wanted to drive all three of you back. "yeah, we're here to come get you; but, unfortunately for those shithead kids-" you turn to face him in the backseat, a conniving smile creeping onto your face.

"we're not your parents, and we're gonna need those kids' names."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[illusioninfnty]

is this seat taken? ↠ day 4 ; cockwarming

↠ "red haired" shanks x reader

fandom: one piece word count: 1k warnings: nsfw 18+, public sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

“Another round on me, little lady!”

Pirates swarm Partys Bar as you scramble to serve everyone at once. Makino occasionally requested your help whenever she knew it would get busy, and each time you happily obliged. However, the pirate crew was rowdier than usual today, and it seemed as though you couldn’t catch a break.

“I’ll be right with you!” You call out to the pirate as you rush to sweep up some broken glass that was dropped by one of the piss-ass drunk crew members. 

As you pass by, you feel a calloused hand skim the back of your ass. You don’t even have to look behind you to know exactly who it belongs to—Shanks.

You and Shanks have done some things in the past, mostly involving him dragging you away to fuck you when he was pumped up on adrenaline from his time at sea.

You ignore his advances this time, too focused on trying to cater to all of his crew. But the second time you’re forced to pass him, serving more rounds of whiskey to his men, he wraps an arm around the back of your thighs and pulls you towards him.

“Shanks!” You gasp. He paws at your ass from his seat on the stool, kneading the soft flesh as laughs at your surprised expression. “I’m supposed to be working!”

He rolls his eyes. “Makino doesn’t even pay you. Take a break with me.”

You finally comply, silently agreeing that you were working way harder than you wanted to be. Makino was busy with patrons at the other side of the bar, and most of the pirates that you were catering to were either passed out or too drunk to comprehend anything.

Shanks settles you into his lap as he brings his lips to yours. He cups your face with hand as you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into him. His warmth envelopes you as you play with the ends of his hair while he caresses your backside.

“I want to try something,” Shanks mumbles into your neck as you pull away for some air.

You hum, encouraging him to continue.

“Let me put my cock in you.”

You freeze. Out of all the things he could have said, that was the last thing on your mind.

“Shanks, we’re in public! In—in front of your crew!” You whisper through clenched teeth and look around frantically, hoping no one heard him.

He sighs, a crease forming between his brow. “Not like that. I’m not going to fuck you now. Just…let it rest in there.” He starts to trail kisses down your neck. “It’ll feel good for both of us.”

“But what if they see?” you ask shakily, your hands grasping onto his broad shoulders for support.

Shanks grabs your chin and turns your head to face him. “C’mon, babe. Everyone’s already slurring their speech. They won’t be able to remember anything come tomorrow morning. And if they do, then they just know you belong to me.”

You bite your lip, chewing on it as you get lost in thought. His words had a wave of heat surging through your body, but you still had to think rationally about what you were about to do. It was risky, but it may just be worth it.

“Alright,” you confirm. Shanks grins heartily, smile lines becoming prominent around his eyes. You move your body so that it covers his front, and you start to slowly remove his cock from their breaches. Through his pants you can already feel how hard he was, pulsing through the material.

You pull your skirt up slightly and push your underwear to the side. You dip your fingers inside yourself, not surprised to feel that you were already wet. You lower yourself onto Shanks as he hisses, his cock throbbing as you slowly guide him inside of you.

Fully seated on his lap now, you adjust your skirt so that it covers where the two of you remain connected. 

“There we go,” he soothes. “Nice and full, huh?” You whine and give him a curt nod, trying to stop your body from reacting from the amount of pleasure surging through it at that moment. No one seems to notice what the two of you were doing, but it still sends a thrill down your spine.

You continue to kiss him as you clench down onto cock. He groans at the sensation, pleasing you even more. Shanks runs his hand down to your lower stomach, stroking the area.

“You feel me in there?”

His large hand continues to rub circles in the area, pressing down in spots that make you gasp. You can feel him in there—so much more than usual, now that he’s not pumping in and out. It feels more intimate with him like this, and you lean into his chest as your walls continue to tighten.

You begin to shift ever-so-slightly on top of Shanks and arch into him as he groans into your lips and stills your hips with his hand. “You’re killing me, baby.” 

You laugh, and your pussy clenches around him even more. 

“Won’t be able to last any longer,” he pants and burrows his face into your neck.

“Good,” you tease, smirking as you see his eyes heat up. His cock pulsates, and his orgasm is silent, the only indicator being the clench of his jaw and the slight quiver in his brow.

“Hey, I need some help over here!” Makino’s voice rings throughout the bar, and suddenly you’re brought back to reality, remembering just exactly where you were and what kind of situation you were in. You remove yourself from Shanks’ lap, shuddering at the sudden heat from him leaving your body.

“Coming!” You say, slapping Shanks in the leg as he snickers behind you.

You adjust your skirt, ignoring the cum that starts to leak out of you as you scurry to help Makino with the bar patrons. The whole time, you can feel Shanks’ eyes follow you.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

On the subject of Bruce Wayne getting married: why not both? They have a marriage of convenience at Vegas first, but once they're deep in their feels, they have another more intimate and meaningful ceremony officiated by Alfred

UGH anon i could not agree more

Warnings: Marriage of convenience; fluff

Summary: It was supposed to be easy—a year-long marriage of convenience to keep Bruce's name clean; cash for your time spent, for your name and likeness splashed all over the papers, run through the mud by the tabloids.

You'd been in a tough spot; you were willing to risk it.

But you couldn't have banked on falling in love with Bruce, or on Bruce falling in love with you.

"We should get married."

It's mumbled against your temple mid-nuzzle, and chased by the warm pressure of Bruce drawing you impossibly closer. Your brow furrows even as your lips pull into a smile, your head tipping back to get a better look at Bruce in the dim bedroom light.

"We are married," You remind him.

"Properly," He insists.

You have to consider it for a moment.

Your first wedding hadn't exactly been a grand affair.

You still remember the roiling nerves as you'd pulled up to the drive-through chapel in Vegas. You'd known that the press would catch up with you in the next twelve hours; that every woman that had ever shown an outward interest in Bruce, so much as breathed in his direction, would come out of the woodwork; that you were likely expected to ignore his infidelity for the year of your contract.

But Bruce had held your hand tightly, come home faithfully. Your physical attraction had only grown as your emotional attachment had flourished. While Bruce's nights could be late, you never had a hint of infidelity from the press, or from Bruce himself.

You knew that you were in far too deep the first time the two of you had slept together. You hadn't been able to take your eyes off of him—even as you'd cum, your gaze had been glued to him, watching his eyes slip shut as his jaw dropped, your name and a murmur of, "Fuck," mingling as his hips stuttered.

It was supposed to be easy—a year-long marriage of convenience to keep Bruce's name clean; cash for your time spent, for your name and likeness splashed all over the papers, run through the mud by the tabloids.

You'd been in a tough spot; you were willing to risk it.

But you couldn't have banked on falling in love with Bruce, or on Bruce falling in love with you.

For better or worse, in sickness and in health, sometimes it feels too damn good to be true. Sometimes you wake up in Bruce's arms, and you just keep still and hold your breath. You revel in the warmth and comfort of his arms, and just feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

You've known that the end of your contract was nearing, but Bruce hasn't mentioned it.

Not until now.

"Properly?" You question, fingers skimming along his side. Bruce hums, hands sliding over your shoulder. "Was there some hitch with the first license that I don't know about?"

Bruce huffs softly, and your stomach flips as his hand slips up to your neck, grasping at the base and tipping your head up. You meet his eyes steadily, searching his gaze as his thumb skims along your nape.

"Go ahead," He urges, "Lie."

"Excuse me?"

"Tell me you don't feel this, too."

"Bruce," You huff, pushing yourself up, drawing back from his arms. It's hardly a few seconds before Bruce is up behind you.

"Tell me."

"It's just—We have a contract."

"Fuck the contract."

"You're speaking in a lot of absolutes."

"...Look at me."

You hesitate, gaze lingering on the gold band on your wing finger before you tip your head back toward him. You let your eyes sweep and settle on his chest, his shoulder. It's safe there.

But Bruce has never been one to go the safe route. He reaches up, curling his fingers tenderly around your jaw, tipping your chin up and forcing your eye contact.

"If you want out, tell me right now," He insists. "Nothing from the arrangement will change. We'll divorce, you'll have your stipend...Or," He leans into it softly, "We keep on. Nothing changes...Alfred will get ordained—"

"Bruce!"

"—And marry us properly...He should've been there the first time."

You frown as his face shifts, his eyes dropping to your lap. You hadn't known then, but you know now how dear Alfred is to Bruce, and Bruce is to Alfred. You hadn't known when you'd agreed to the contract, but it's become crystal clear to you now.

You push a quiet sigh through your nose, reaching up and taking hold of one of Bruce's hands in both of yours.

"What if you change your mind?" You ply softly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...This was supposed to be temporary, Bruce. We had a deal—we have paperwork, for fuckssake."

"I'll add a non-compete."

"Be serious—"

"I am being serious." Bruce intertwines your fingers, raising your hand and pressing a kiss to your ring. "Not about the non-compete, but...About Alfred. About getting married—and meaning it, this time."

You consider for a few moments before you lean against Bruce, sliding your thumb along his knuckles as you consider.

"The contract should be retooled into a prenup."

"We don't need a prenup."

"Now you're being ridiculous."

"No," Bruce insists. "I'm being decisive. I know what I'm doing."

"What if you're wrong about me?"

"I'm not."

"Are you always so full of yourself?"

"Sure of myself."

"Tomato, to-mah-to."

"Are you gonna marry me again or not, Mrs. Wayne?"

You grin, tipping your head back to press a gentle kiss to Bruce's jaw.

"Again and again, Mr. Wayne."

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; 

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; 

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; 

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; 

@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989 ; @missswriter ; @nominalnebula

[mochinomnoms]

The Private (not) Thoughts of a Moray Chapter 6: I'm feeling blessed by a curse

Gender Neutral Reader x Jade Leech

Chapter 6 preview:

“Well, I mean it’s not like you share your signature spells with everyone, I mean yours is basically mind control…” Jamil bristled at your comment, making you shrink in. “...I just mean it’s not that different from you.” “I’d say it’s very different.” Azul replied, which was met with murmurs of agreement from Idia and Jamil. “No offense meant to you Prefect, but we have a right to keep our personal thoughts to ourselves, and using our signature spells on others have led to consequences. Yours does not, and I think we all deserve to know about that.” You shrank further into yourself, making yourself smaller against the couch. Clenching Riddle’s train in your hands, you tucked your feet under your legs, feeling like a child being discussed at a parent-teacher meeting. 

[wc} - 15,034

[notes] - wow took a hot sec to get this out. also this is the longest chapter yet and i still feel like it didn't come out great but im sure yall will enjoy what i have so far! also sorry for the lack of jade but i promise there's a reason lmao bare with me

Edits: thanks yuri for the tidbit about counselors I need finish chapter 6 in game lmao

[tag list] - @ghousus; @nasty-rat-goblin; @obeythehuman; @malleus-draconias-rose; @prussianengel

back to chapter list

Chapter 6: I'm feeling blessed by a curse

The unmistakable sound of the Magic Mirror as you entered another vision. 

You felt heavy, fighting to open your eyelids from the sweet embrace of sleep. 

The light filtering through the lavender drapes stung your eyes as you grumbled, turning around as the surrounding arms tightened and brought you closer to him. 

You felt a grumble vibrate through his chest as you dug your face into the spot above his heart. The soft beating was soothing as you finally looked up, reaching to tuck a dark strand of hair behind his left ear. 

A gold eye opened, sleepy and sweet as it looked at you full of fondness.

A tender, “Good morning, my love,” was accompanied by the sound of you leaving the mirror.

A loud thud and a pain against the side of your head abruptly awoke you from your sleep, the cool wood flooring of the room providing little comfort to the dull pain against your forehead. 

You needed to sweep and mop, the floor was covered in Grim’s fur and dirt.

“What the fuck?” Ace was mumbling as he bolted up from the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Deuce also woke up, much more abruptly and panicked, pushing the sleeping bag off around him and throwing his fists up and as he blearily looked around. 

“Wa happen? Who’s here, I can fight!” Deuce grunted as Ace threw a pillow at his face. 

“Nothing happened, (name) fell off the bed.” Ace yawned, crawling over to peer at you over the edge of the mattress as you pushed yourself off the floor. “You had a bad dream again? Ha, baby.”

Ace always had a big mouth, but he meant well. You wanna talk about it? He just had trouble vocalizing it. 

You sighed, crawling back up the bed and curled into the body pillow between you and Ace. Grim was still peacefully sleeping on top of it as he made a small ‘murrrph?’ sound from being ruffled. 

“Wait, did you and Grim have a nightmare again?” Deuce’s voice was filled with urgency as he crawled over to you three, settling at the end of the bed. He stretched his legs out, tangling with yours and Ace’s, as he looked at Grim with confusion. 

“He’s still sleeping though…you okay (name)?”

A sigh left your mouth as you nodded. “Yeah, I’m…it’s just a weird dream, freaked me out.”

Another, longer sigh made the two share a glance as your dark-haired friend leaned in closer. 

“Was it like, you turned into a chicken and hatched from an egg but were like a weird half chicken and half human thing and got bullied by your chicken siblings?” Deuce looked so earnest as he continued. “I’ve had one of those before.”

You and Ace stared at Deuce for nearly a full, silent minute, as said man shifted uncomfortably. 

“Dude, I don’t know what all that means, but I think you should talk to, like, a dream therapist or something.” Ace let out a disgruntled grunt as Deuce grabbed his own pillow and started smacking him with it. 

“Shut. Up. Ace. (name). Had. A. Bad. Dream!” With each word, Deuce smacked the pillow harder and harder against Ace until he finally covered Ace’s entire body with his own, the unruly shuffling pushing against the bed and pillows until Grim finally woke up with a startle. 

“Hey! What’s the deal!” Grim whined, moving into your arms and settling in like a cat with its owner. “I was having such a good dream too!” 

“Oh? Maybe you two weren’t sharing one this time? (name) had a bad dream.” Ace mumbled, the pillow muffling his speech until he managed to shove his head out between Deuce’s hands and the fabric.

“Finally,! Can barely breathe. Anyways!” Ace chirped, managing to kick Deuce with his free leg. “What got you all scared? Couldn’t have been too bad, right?”

You didn’t scream this time, either. Neither of you.

You winced, Ace’s frowning as he murmured a soft sorry. Deuce looked between you two confused, but gestured for you to speak. 

“It’s okay, you can tell us.”

“It wasn’t bad…just weird?” You scratched Grim’s head as you continued. “I think it was another premonition, I could hear and feel myself going through the mirror again, but it’s been a while since I had one of those.”

The back of Grim’s neck was rumbling as he sleepily stretched into your hands. “It was like I was in the vision itself, ‘stead of watching it like a movie.”

A flash of gold flashed through your mind as you felt your cheeks warm. 

No! No, it’s fine!

“It’s fine, I was just surprised! Nothing to worry about!”

Ace and Deuce shared a look, before looking back at you worryingly. 

“You sure? You know what time of year it is, right?” We all do.

Deuce’s mind flashed with visions of Riddle and Leona, covered in black, inky slop and towering, monstrous beings feeding on their misery and rage. 

Are you sure you’re okay?

“You haven’t had a vision since…you know.” Ace thinned his lips, eyes darting between you and Grim. “Since you and Grim…”

“I’m fine! It wasn’t scary or anything, I promise. I’m fine.” You waved your hands exasperatedly, tossing Grim into Ace’s arms as you kicked Ace’s sheets off and stretched. 

The cold wooden floor shocked some sleep from your bones as you felt your spine pop rather satisfyingly. 

“Grim was even having a pleasant dream, weren’t you?” 

Grim perked up, letting out a squeal that sounded a bit like a purr. 

“Yeah! I was eating this real nice plate of tuna, really expensive too! I think one of the look-a-like brothers was serving it to me.” 

You nodded absentmindedly, walking over to your dresser and grabbing yours and Grim’s dorm uniform, tossing the clothes at the bed. Heading to the bathroom, you left the door slightly ajar to listen to Ace and Deuce as they spoke quietly amongst themselves. 

Grim had taken to the snack drawer in your dresser, where he’d begged you to save some of his favorite tuna, which you easily gave in. But Ace and Deuce stayed on the bed, murmuring. You tried to focus between their thoughts and the words coming out of their mouths, but all you could really make out was a general sense of worry. 

It didn’t help that most of the student body and faculty also had a general feeling of dread and anxiety. The freshman weren’t privy to it, but everyone else was steering clear of, or carefully treading around Riddle as of late. You even heard from Jack that Ruggie had been texting Leona nonstop as the anniversary came up, but got short responses. 

You know why they were worried, you were one of the people at the forefront of both overblots. Intricately involved back then, and it’s like you still are that small, magicless human in a foreign world. 

 “Ow, ow, ow!” You winced, soap getting in your eye while washing your face. “Damn it!”

“Yoo! Prefect! You okay?” Ace’s casual voice had a slight twinge at the end, like he was actively hiding his worry. “Need my help?”

No dying on my watch, and not in the bathroom. You can die somewhere more dignified.

“I’m not dying! God, I just got soap in my eye!” You snatched the hand towel off the rack, dark blue like Deuce’s hair when the sun shone just right. “I’m not a baby! Don’t baby me!”

Stomping out of the bathroom and snatching your clothes, you winced at the barrage of concerned thoughts and worry coming from your friends. 

“Aw come on, I was joking, you know me!” It’s not my fault that it’s that time of year.

We just worry about you, magic or not, you’re still our same old (name). You know?

Deuce gave you a reassuring smile, faltering as you huffed, gesturing for them to turn around as you changed. It was hard to stay angry, your mind was flooded with their memories of you bruised and covered in cuts from thorns.

“I can take care of myself, you know?” You turned back around, clipping your cape around your shoulders and adjusting the clasps. “It’s not like I was the only one that got hurt those days, you guys did too.”

Yeah, but… “You had a real bad reaction after all the overblots, like you were allergic or something.” Ace shivered as you saw a memory flash through his mind.

A few of them, actually. 

One your back covered in hives and Azul’s sucker marks. Another of you choking and sneezing from Leona’s dust. Red and burning scratches from Riddle and his thorns . An awful rash and blisters from Vil’s poisons that covered your face for weeks. Jamil’s snakes and their bites giving you an itchy, swelling bump on your legs that took four rounds of medication and potions to go away. They weren’t around for the reactions you got from Idia, something they were still angry at you for, but Deuce’s imagination ran wild with the stories of you wheezing and heaving to breathe.

And that’s not even to mention the effects that Malleus’s blot had on you.

“I don’t know man, I think it’s natural that we’re all a bit on edge this time of year.” Ace shrugged, grabbing Grim by his scruff and tossing him over to you mid-chewing. “Anyways, you should go head out, you still need to take your potion and head to the nurse.”

You caught Grim as he yelped, growling at Ace, who responded by sticking out his tongue.

“Watch it! You almost ruffled my bow!” Grim whined with pout and still full mouth.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you still need to put your own uniform on too.” You held Grim against your hip as you reached for Grim’s own vest and cape. The little direbeast excitedly snatched the clothes out of your grasp, attempting to slip it on with the elegance of a toddler. 

Eh? Why is this so hard without thumbs!

You giggled, watching Grim struggle to pull the buttons closed as you leaned down to fold the hem of your pants. Looking up, you noticed Deuce helping a struggling Ace with painting on his heart. Ace’s eyes were shut as his face got redder, while Deuce grabbed his chin to steady his face. Deuce was more focused on keeping a steady hand than he was with Ace’s reddening blush, his tongue sticking out almost cutely. 

Mmm?

Deuce finally backed away, sighing in self-satisfaction as he turned back around to put the makeup away. Ace relaxed, watching Deuce for a bit before making eye contact with you. 

He froze, refusing to blink, as if blinking would set you off. 

“…Since when have you struggled with painting your heart? You’d never let me paint it for you, and I always ask!” You whined, poking at his forehead. 

Shut the fuck up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!!

“Oh! Ace has been struggling to paint his heart on for a while, he got carpal tunnel from basketball practice over the summer.” Deuce helpfully piped up, grabbing his own black makeup paint and heading to the bathroom. 

“He’s been having me do it for him, since I got steady hands and everything from working on my blastcyle!” 

“I didn’t even know you could get carpal tunnel from playing basketball…can you even?”

I swear to the fucking Red Queen if you don’t shut up…

“Oi! I thought I told you, you’re running late! You still need to take your potion too! Go! I’m not having Riddle blame me for making you late!” Ace got up to chase you and Grim out, the latter finally clipping his cap around his shoulders. 

“Aha! Wait, eek!” Grim yelped as he bolted on all fours, Ace stomping behind him as he grabbed your magic pen and arm to shove you out. 

“Off you go! Brats.” Text us after your check-up….Brat.

“Hey! Who are you calling a brat? You’re the brat!” you laughed despite Ace’s words, waving as he flipped you off and closed the door. 

The hallway was empty, the entirety of the dorm downstairs from the sounds in the kitchen and lounge. And from the raised voices, you were willing to bet that someone had said the wrong thing to the wrong person. 

Suddenly there was a loud crashing sound of pots, pans, and glass that made you dart down the stairs with Grim close to your heels. 

“Ah! What are they doing to our dorm!” Grim squeezed through the bannister gaps to jump off the stairs and on his feet like a cat, rushing into the kitchen as you finally made your way down. 

“Hey! What did I tell you about touching my cooking!” Yaqub’s voice was very irritated, borderline squawking. 

You’d only heard stories about his irritable nature, mostly from Jamil and a particularly distraught Kalim. Honestly, you thought they might have been exaggerating, since he was always mild mannered around you. 

“It’s too red! I’m making sure that it won’t be too spicy for the dorm, not everyone can handle—”

“That’s tomato sauce you idiot! Damnit Wynfred!”

Granted, Wynfred tended to get under people’s skin with a particularly nonchalant, blissful unawareness. 

You whipped into the kitchen to the sight of Yaqub towering over Wynfred with a wooden spoon ready to swat. The latter was looking into the pan with a bag of sugar in his hands like he’d just dropped an ounce, instead of half the bag into the sauce.

“Oh, well, I’m sure you can just start over, I’ll help!”

Yaqub puffed up, the top feathers of his head perking straight up along with a lump in his shoulders. Just how feathery is he?

“If I’d wanted your help in the first place, I would've asked! I should beat you—”

Yaqub froze as he darted his eyes at you, making Wynfred turn and brighten with a pink flush. Until Yaqub elbowed him, making him hide the sugar behind his back and straighten. Both of them gave you polite smiles and leaned in close, like they were close friends and hadn’t just been arguing a moment ago. 

“Hello Housewarden, how are you? We were just preparing breakfast for everyone, and just happened to run into a hiccup.” Yaqub always spoke to you in a soft, polite voice, which seemed off from his stature. 

“And I was helping! Like a great vice-housewarden!” Wynfred chirped, yelping at a foot stomping on his right. “I mean! I was just being nice.”

Pendejo…

Ow, my big toe…

You blinked at the two, as Grim ruffled up in offense. 

“Hey! You got a vice-housewarden right here! I’ve told you don’t go thinking you can replace me, yer startin’ to annoy me!”

Yaqub snorted as Grim padded closer to Wynfred to further chastise, as much as the little guy could, while the redhead looked off to the side with mild annoyance. 

“Housewarden (name), here.” Yaqub had managed to sneak next to you, making you jump in surprise as he smirked in amusement. 

“Housewarden Jamil told me that you needed a drink every morning for your, uh, condition?”

Cringing, you smiled and took the mug from his hands, noting the same smell of coffee that you’d had with Kalim sometimes. 

“...Is this from Scarabia’s kitchen? It smells like the fancy stuff that Kalim drinks sometimes.”

“Mmmm, maybe?” Yaqub gave you a wry grin and gestured to a smaller cup on the counter. “I was just told to help ya out, so might as well take advantage of Kalim’s surplus.”

Not like the spoiled brat will notice. 

You smiled shakily and reached into your pocket for your last, lavender colored vial. Pouring a few drops into your cup and doing the same to Grim’s, you tenderly sipped the sweetened, smooth liquid.

“Grim, drink.” Stopping mid-stomp, Grim turned and noticed his cup, sighing and hopping up the counter. 

Ugh, remember I want to choose the flavor today.

You smiled and leaned against the counter to sip on your drink, waiting for Riddle to come by for you. It was close to the time he agreed to pick you up, and knowing him he would be at your door 5 minutes early. 

“Enjoy my dear Housewarden!” Wynfred chirped, waving as he walked past to the lounge area, where a group of voices steadily grew in volume. “Don’t worry, I’ll quiet them down, and will also watch over the dorm! I am an excellent leader after all!”

And an excellent date! “Also, I’m still waiting on your response regarding our outing—”

“Wow, I think I hear Silas eating another bug, better go check that!” Yaqub promptly shoved Wynfred out of the kitchen, though you could make out mutterings of “stupid!” and “don’t stress them out!”

It had been a trend lately to walk eggshells around you. The new students in Ramshackle were still keeping you busy, but with the dates of Riddle and Leona’s overblots looming over the student body’s head, you were fairly certain they were all told to be careful around you. 

Wynfred, maybe a mix of trying to be genuinely helpful and trying to gain your favor, had taken over most of your duties, albeit to your mild irritation. 

It wasn’t that you disliked the help, and to be honest, most of your work was delegating the tasks that Crowley had given to you and Grim the year before, and spreading it amongst the freshmen. Wynfred just stepped on your toes when he did. 

Still, these past two weeks had been the most stress-free since starting the year, to the point that you were even able to spend a night with Ace and Deuce. Normally they’d come to your place…but someone had been spreading rumors about you three being closer than your average friends. 

These sorts of rumors were around last year as well, pushed to the background with the more drastic events that occurred, but you never minded. At least, not until you heard some unpleasant thoughts from a certain someone. 

You sighed, thinking about your interactions as of late. Jade had been rather…clingy? Attached? Hovering? You suppose that’s the best way to put it, though he hardly ever touched you. 

No, he was always respectful in that regard, which you did appreciate. But he was always hovering over you when he had an excuse to. Even outside of class and dorm meetings between you and Azul, Jade found a way to be around, even if it was just a fleeting glance and hello. 

To no surprise to you, he seemed to have an uncanny ability to tell when Wynfred was alone with you, interrupting him mid-conversation to ask for your assistance with the Octavinelle students in your care. Which, considering they were extremely organized and easy to work with (mostly), was unnecessary. 

Though, you think that had more to do with Wynfred not being able to read a room and talking on and on with just about everyone he meets. And with him being in the same club as Jade, he was just an overflowing well, full of information for Jade to pick at. 

Like his schedule, his attempts to speak to confirm your ‘date’, or the times the dorm is left under Grim’s ‘care’ while you did your club duties.  

All of your freshmen were aware that your club would meet on Sundays in the afternoon to study the ruins and gargoyles on campus. Suddenly, the Mountain Lovers Club was also meeting on Sunday afternoons. And they just happened to be in the same ruins as you, which was strange considering that the ruins weren’t in the mountain range around NRC.

He’d also taken to “mysteriously” showing up every time Wynfred was getting ready to ask you out again. It had happened at least 3 times since the incident at the lake, each time Wynfred would attempt ‘asking for your hand’, in his own words. Jade would suddenly appear and either ask Wynfred if he’d completed his club tasks, which the latter complained about often, or whisk you away to meet with Azul about your Halloween agreement. 

Based on Azul’s thoughts, he was getting annoyed at Jade’s sudden appointments, but he never let it show and seemed to like planning the carnival themed food stalls with you, at least the money it’d make anyway. 

If you didn’t realize how much of a blabbermouth Wynfred was, and the prominence of gossiping amongst Pomefiore students, you’d suspect that Jade could also read minds.

There were some times that his ‘attentiveness’ was actually quite nice.

Like how you almost always forgot to grab breakfast in the morning, opting for something to drink. Suddenly, you’d mysteriously find a breakfast pastry with an unsigned note in familiar handwriting at your desk in the homeroom. 

If you found yourself studying extra long in the library, you would leave your table for the restroom and come back to an open book with a note pointing to a section related to your current class module.

You had to admit, though, your favorite thing he’d been doing for you was asking for your ‘help’ in potions. Jade didn’t really need help, not with Riddle and Yev in your group, but it was nice being the one he’d always ask first. 

Even for simple things, like what notes he missed, could you help him with measuring the herbs, and even just asking for you to explain the instructions Yev liked to spitfire. 

He didn’t need your help, not really. He was more than capable of asking Crewel for missed notes, or checking the instructions for measuring certain herbs, or having Yev repeat himself. You could hear him think that too, but…it was almost flattering how much he just loved hearing your voice. Jade liked having you help him, and you liked to pretend that you were actually useful for once. 

Could be worse, I suppose.

You heard a knock at the front door, listening as one of your students opened the door and greeted the new arrival. 

“Prefect?” You leaned over to look past the doorway to see Riddle standing at the entry, dressed in all his queenly glamor. “Housewarden Riddle is here for you.”

“Hey Riddle! Let me finish my coffee real quick!”

“Alright, quickly then.” He nodded and gave you a pleasant smile. We wouldn’t want to be late.

Gesturing for Grim to finish his drink, you took big gulps, ever so slightly burning the inside your mouth. Huffing the hot air out of your mouth and waving Grim along, you jogged over to the front door and waved out to the lounge. 

“Bye everyone, I will be back from the meeting later. Please don’t set the place on fire!”

You heard an echo of ‘okays’ and ‘yessirs’, with a singular ‘no promises’ with a loud smack and yelp making you stifle a snort. 

Riddle was patiently waiting by the stairs, watching the sky until he heard you close the door, turning to you with a smile. 

“Still on time, good. I was worried that the two would give you trouble.”

You clicked your tongue waving your wave dismissively. “Nah, they’ve been super helpful, you should give them more credit.

Riddle gave you a doubtful look as you too made your way to the castle. 

“I mean it!”

“Of course, whatever you say.”

Pushing Riddle with your shoulder, you giggled as Grim jumped on your back and took his place on your shoulder. 

“Oh shush! Should we start heading to the infirmary? Goethel called everyone in for something important, right?”

Riddle nodded leading the way as he hummed to himself. 

Walking with Riddle was always nice. He was quiet, both physically and mentally, which was an odd thing to say now that you really thought about it. But it was nice, as being with him meant that his thoughts were more…organized? 

Hmm, is that the best way to explain it?

You noticed that being around some of your friends was less mentally taxing on your telepathy. Riddle, unlike Kalim for example, was always straight to the point and clear. His thoughts rarely, if ever, jumped around from what he’d been focusing on. Jamil and Jack were the same, so being around them was actually quite soothing. Even Jade tended to have a one track mind, even when focusing on you. 

However, being around Kalim, Floyd, even Sebek and Epel at times, caused you to grow a headache. There were too many sounds, too many different topics jumping around. Even being around Deuce sometimes caused a migraine. It got worse when you were in a crowd too. 

But being around J—Riddle! Being around Riddle isn’t like that! He’s nice, calm, and quiet. Most of the time anyways. 

You shook your head, flapping your hands like you were trying to shake something off as you sped up after Riddle. Thankfully, with most of the student body in bed still, the walk was peaceful and short. You just really hated all the stairs, all three stories of them, to get to the infirmary. 

It was surprisingly empty in the room when you entered, only Ortho cleaning up his equipment with a sanitizing spray. Your friend brightened as you waved, cheerfully zooming over with an urgency. 

“Prefect! Hi!” Ortho scooped you up underneath your arms, bringing you into a spine crushing hug before setting you back down, the whirl of his fans betraying his excitement. 

“I missed you during your last check in! I tried reading your files to make sure nothing new happened, but Ms. Goethel got mad at me for snooping.”

You really liked Ortho, he was like a cute little brother. Which, seeing how Idia programmed him in the first place, was expected. What was a bit surprising was how he almost spoke to himself internally. 

How am I meant to help if I can’t stay updated with everyone’s medical condition—

—cause not everyone wants to have their private information shared! Duh! What are you a dummy—

—No! I’m just concerned! Idia might not be friends with all of them, but I like them! Especially the Prefect and Vil! 

That doesn’t mean you can be in their business, remember what happened when we snooped in the headmage’s files?

You watched Ortho’s hair and lights briefly flash red and him shuddering, as much as a technomantic could anyway. Instead, he turned to Riddle and gestured to him to follow. 

“Come on Riddle! I’ll do you first, the others are waiting in Ms. Goethel’s office!” Ortho floated towards a bed with a privacy curtain covering it. “Prefect, I’ll do you after! Please take a seat, it won’t take long!”

You hummed in response, sitting in the waiting area of the infirmary with Grim hopping into your lap. He curled into you, wrapping his tail so tightly that he looked like a little ball. 

Mmm, I don’t like Ortho doing these. Reminds me of that stupid isle…

You sighed, scratching behind his ears as you felt him purr and relax. 

“It’s okay, I’ll go first and you can watch, ‘kay?”

Grim made a small ‘okay’ noise as he nodded, pressing his head against your hand. Rubbing your thumb over his forehead in a circular motion, you felt him relax and dig his front paws into your thighs as he gently kneaded into you. 

He’d had nightmares after his time at the Isle of Woe for weeks, though they’d become less common, Grim would still get them from time to time. 

I want something fancy for dinner tonight! To make up for gettin’ all poked and pinched!

Grim’s ears perked as he jumped up and pawed at your chest. 

“Ask Hornton to take us to the Mostro Lounge! I want to eat crab and that fancy cav-eee-ar thing that people always talk about!”

You snorted, “Do you mean caviar?”  

“Whatever it is, ask Hornton to buy it for us!” Grim huffed and started drooling as you made out his little daydreams of fancy caviar on crackers and shrimp cocktails. 

“Okaaay, but I don’t think you’ll like it.” You laughed, patting his head again as you started scrolling through Magicam. 

Hmm, Cater posted another pic of himself at a cafe…Ruggie and Epel in their club…oh, Azul posted a sneak peak of the new menu, nice.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise at a familiar logo and pair in the campus’s woods. 

“As the Mountain Lovers Club, we do much more than hiking! Our club members sometimes cook their findings as well! Look at how delicious these foraged plants look!”

Wynfred’s red curls and dark green eyes were just barely visible in the corner of the selfie as in the background, Jade tended to what looked like some mushrooms and spring onions on a campfire grill gate. 

A smile grew on your features at the scene. It seemed that this was the work that Jade had put him to that he��d been complaining about. Social media seemed to come natural to him though, maybe you should connect him with Cater?

“Prefect? Riddle is done, you can come over now.”

You looked up and saw Riddle and Ortho pop out from behind the privacy curtain, Riddle looking rather relieved. 

Nothing out of the ordinary. No additional stress with the normal day to day things…No blot, no blot. No blot this time…

Riddle looked up at you and gave you a nod. “I’ll be heading to the office now, I’ll let the others know that you’ll be there shortly.”

“Okay, thanks.” you nodded back, gathering Grim up in your arms and heading to Ortho, who was hovering patiently. 

“I’ll be quick! Let me do a quick physical and then I just need to measure your stress levels and magic accumulation!” 

Grim’s claws dug into your skin at that, an unpleasant rumbling vibrating through his chest. You patted his head again to calm your friend. 

You placed Grim next to you on the bed, patting his head as you let Ortho take your basic measurements: weight, height, heart rate, blood pressure. Rather normal things that you’d experienced back home. But Ortho’s yellow eyes going white and presumably scanning your body was not, neither was him offering his hand out for you to place your wand in. 

“Here.” Sighing, you watched as a blue light glowed from his hand, scanning down your wand before focusing in on the light violet gemstone. 

“You should get a housewarden staff, I tried getting Idia to use the Ignihyde one, but he thought it made him look geeky.” You and Ortho shared a giggle as he went silent while uploading the results of your physical to presumably your medical file. 

You stayed silent as he did, fidgeting with the skin around your nails. 

“Hmm, based on the data I acquired from your stone, you have an unusually high rate of blot accumulation. Normally it would pile up, but it seems it’s being reduced by your daily potion.”

Ortho handed back your wand with his brows furrowed. 

“Still, it’s at a much higher rate than the others. Maybe due to your body not being originally suited to magic? I’ll let Nurse Goethel know.”

A tugging on the back of your vest caught your attention as you looked back at Grim, who was holding onto you with droopy ears. 

“Is that bad?”

You smiled reassuringly and scratched the top of his head. 

“It’s not ideal, but I’m sure if it was really bad, Ortho would get the nurse, right?”

Looking at Ortho for reassurance, your friend nodded and gave you a perky thumbs up.

“Right! Besides Grim, you should be a lot more worried about yourself! Your blot accumulation has still been super unpredictable, speaking of which.”

Ortho turned to look at Grim and cheerfully continued

“Nurse Goethel says that she will do your exam, so you can wait here.” Ortho produced a star shaped sticker from his chest panel and stuck it to your forehead with glee. “Prefect! You can go to the office with the others.”

Yay! Finally got someone!

Grim stiffened and scrunched up his lips.

Huh? No! I don’t wanna be alone! “My henchhuman needs to be with me at all times! They’re my servant!”

Grim stood on the bed and puffed up his chest, though you could feel the anxiety radiating off him. 

“It’s okay Grim, I’ll just be down the hall if you need me.” You patted his head again, which Grim relaxed into and plopped back down on the bed. “Okay? Just have Ortho come get me.”

Hmph! “I’m the Great Grim! I don’t need anyone!” You better mean that…

Grim sat back down the bed and curled his tail inward towards him, hugging it to himself as he huffed and turned his head away from you. 

You gave Ortho an apologetic smile and made your way out of the main infirmary and to the hallway. 

It was empty, this branch of the castle usually was on the weekends due to it mostly containing the professors’ offices and general administrative wings. Still, it was a nice change of pace to the usually busy halls and bouncing thoughts of the student body. 

Though, you didn’t have to walk far as Nurse Goethel’s office was right next to the infirmary. The closer you got to the door, you could make out Riddle’s voice talking to the others in the room.

Ah, I wonder if he’s telling them about everything that’s been happening this year. That sounds nice, wonder what he’s talking about, maybe my new dorm members? Oh, maybe about Halloween, they’re allowed to come visit during the fair right?

You smiled at the thought of showing off Ramshackle to Malleus, all decked out in amusement park and clown themed decorations. 

Yeah, I bet he’s telling them that I’ve been doing a great job as a housewarden!

A smile still on your face, you opened the door to the office to see everyone attentively listening to Riddle. 

“I am worried about how they’re dealing with it, psychics as a whole are rare, and their telepathy seems to be a source of distress. So I’m hoping that one of us has a family history of psychics that we can refer to—OW!”

Riddle yelped as you, with rather impressive accuracy mind you, threw a decorative stress ball that was on the shelf near you, right at his head. 

It was the shock that got Riddle rather than actually being hurt, but he still clutched his head at the spot you hit. 

“Prefect! What is wrong with—”

“How dare you!”

You cherished your friendship with Riddle, maybe as much as you did with Ace and Deuce. He was the first person overblot and did disparage you at first, yes. But he was also one of the first people to take you under his wing. He treated you more like another housewarden and student, rather than just Grim’s babysitter or the magicless human. 

He was aware that you were more fragile to magic compared to the other students, but he never coddled you before. He was there when you cried about missing home, about feeling inadequate in the foreign school system, about your frustration with Grim at times.

You were never sure why Riddle took such a liking to you. Perhaps it was because he liked having a friend that would attentively listen to him list all 810 of the Queen of Heart’s rules. Or that you would distract Floyd long enough for him to escape, and then meet again later and giggle about it. 

Or maybe it was because you didn’t really know about him and his reputation as a tyrant, only your very brief brush with it. To you, he was just Riddle, the redheaded guy with a bit of a temper, a friend. 

Riddle was a very good friend, one you could credit to your ability to skip a potionology grade. A wonderful friend, Riddle was. 

But right now, Riddle was pissing you off.

The two of you stared each other down as the other 6 in the room watched on in various levels of amusement and concern. 

You thought you’d been doing a swell job, especially regarding your telepathy. Sure, you had some problems here or there, and certain people caused certain issues, but overall you were having a grand time learning your magic on your own time. 

You thought he did too, seeing as he didn’t mention anything about the telepathy after finding out. In fact, he didn’t even acknowledge it, not like how Ace, Deuce, and Grim would. 

They’d speak through their thoughts, or think silly things to make you laugh in class, or they (Grim, usually) would beg you to give them a hint on the in-class assignments. 

But Riddle didn’t do any of that, he just kept going on like nothing had changed. Even his thoughts remained the same, though they were never anything strange or out of character for him. You thought that he had confidence in you and your new ability. And that was a nice sentiment, or it was. 

So yes, you were quite pissed off at him for implying that you weren’t able handle your magic yourself.

“Riddle! What the heck” You hissed, rushing over to him and sputtering as you hovered your fists over him, deciding whether or not you should just shake the jitters out, or start lightly hitting him.

“Now, Child of Man, there’s no need to get violent.”

Your darling horned friend decided for you, a sudden influx of amusement filling you as Malleus came from behind you. He tenderly grabbed at your hands and pulled you to sit back between him and Riddle in the love seat nestled in the corner of the nurse’s office.

Malleus chuckled, beaming as you shoved yourself into his side to put as much space between you and Riddle as possible. You’d managed to curl yourself into a little ball into Malleus’s side as you stuck your tongue out at Riddle.

Ah, amusing. Malleus hummed, briefly pausing before resuming his pats on the top of your head, chuckling as you moved his arm to hug you like a shield against Riddle. Riddle looked less than amused at the situation, crossing his arms as he stared back at your angry face.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Prefect.” Riddle huffed, though for some reason you could just feel the guilt radiating from him. That outburst was completely unnecessary. 

“Ugh!” You let out a scoff, bring the hood of your cape up and over your head, tugging down to cover your face. 

“You’re the one sharing my business with others, you know I haven’t told anyone else!” Voice muffled, you felt your face burning in frustration. “What gives you the right? You didn’t even ask!”

That weird feeling of guilt was growing as Malleus pulled your hood back, so that your face was visible once again. Everyone was staring at you now, making you shift uncomfortably. 

Aw. They look like they want to cry…

I guess they didn’t want that shared?

Riddle looked as upset as you were, maybe even guiltier than you felt…or was that you feeling that?

Why am I feeling guilty? 

Ah, I’m sorry, Prefect…

Malleus gave you another reassuring pat on your head, a new sense of calm enveloping your body

Is that…Malleus’s..?

“I’m sure Rosehearts had good intentions, you’re still getting used to your magic after all.”  Malleus chuckled as you pouted, a new sense of amusement now warming your body. 

Oh, he finds this funny. Hmph.

Slipping under his arms to slide off the small couch and onto the floor, you sighed and crossed your arms. An image of you looking like a petulant child crossed your mind and you snapped your head up to dart between the others in the room. 

Vil and Idia took the chairs in front of the nurse’s desk, though the former had turned it to face everyone, presumably to speak face-to-face. Idia was curled into his chair, which he hadn’t bothered to turn, but sat in it sideways so he could look at everyone from the corner of his eyes. Azul was sitting on an upholstered bench on the wall next to Idia, legs crossed and hands politely crossed over the top of his staff. 

Jamil was leaning in the corner of the room near Vil and Leona, who was sitting with his eyes closed on the windowsill. Jamil was fidgeting with the snake staff in his hand, watching you with a neutral expression. 

Heh, they kinda look like Najima as a kid. 

“Precisely!” Riddle chimed back in, leaning down to pull at your cheek as you grumbled. “Reading another’s mind is mentally and magically taxing, you’re not used to magic like us.”

“Are you for reals? Like not just psychic but actual, full on mind reading? What the hell?!” Idia screeched, horrified at the idea. Though, seeing how he was a self-proclaimed otaku, and the sort of shows he might be into, you weren’t surprised that he didn’t like the idea. 

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it! Don’t think about the weird incest reincarnation subplot It’s not my fault the manga started going weird! I just thought it was a cute idol story!

Idia curled into the seat again and practically demanded, “How long have they had it?!”

Blinking slowly, you could feel your face going warm in embarrassment, matching Idia’s own reddening cheeks. In fact…in your cheeks as well…and your hair felt hot, like it was on fire. 

“If you’re wondering if I could hear you during your breakdown last year, no, I couldn’t. Happened a bit after I got magic.” You sighed while Idia relaxed, and you felt yourself do the same.

Thank Hades! I do not want—wait a fucking second. 

Idia darted his head back at you and glared, wrapping his arms around his head protectively. “You’re doing it right now, aren’t you! Get out of my head, you FREAK!”

“Idia! Don’t you chastise them like that” Riddle started yelling at Idia, before you interrupted him with a snarky reply. 

“Freak? Says the guy with fire hair, that’s freaky even for here!” You had a sudden burst of energy as you crawled over to Idia to start poking at him as you continued. “I’m an alien, I have an excuse, what’s yours?”

Are you serious—ugh nevermind, you two just go at it. 

“Alien does not mean from another dimension.” Idia said, giving you a blank stare. “You’re not from another planet, you’re from a whole other universe.”

“Same difference.”

“It’s not!” Idia scoffed. He was much more comfortable with you and the others by now, though it might be due to how much you all liked to prod at him over the summer. 

“Ya-huh.”

“Nuh-huh!”

“Ya-huh!”

The two of you continued to bicker, Riddle, Vil, Jamil, and Azul watching in a mix of disapproval and mild amusement. Malleus, just darted his gaze between the two of you, much like watching a game of tennis. He was thoroughly entertained as he leaned over to Riddle. 

“Is this how humans normally interact with their friends?” Malleus asked, Riddle jumping slightly as if he forgot Malleus was even there. “My Child of Man never interacts with me like that.”

Riddle sighed as he shrugged. “It depends, they’ve always been very adaptable with everyone around them. I think the Prefect just likes to press Idia’s buttons, ever since he took us and Grim to S.T.Y.X.”

“Hey!” Idia yelled, immediately shrinking down as he realized just how loud he was being. “I mean…it wasn’t me who sent the Charon bots after you…I just ended up taking over for a bit.”

Suddenly, a wave of annoyance with a touch of amusement filled your body. 

“And then you immediately overblotted.” Leona finally spoke up, his tail swishing quickly as he shifted in his seat, eyes still closed. “Now both of you shut it. Been tryin’ to take a nap.”

Too damn loud, go back to being a shut in Radish Sprout. Leona frowned, his tail stilling as he opened an eye to look at you. “I can tell you’re listening. Stop it.” 

You jumped, as did the others, minus Malleus. Sharing a look of confusion with Riddle as your eyes met, you turned back to question Leona. 

“You can tell? How?”

“I am also wondering.” Riddle stated in kind, scooting forward in his seat. “I could only tell because of Ace’s big mouth, and from little slips of the tongue with the Prefect.”

Malleus hummed, crossing his arms and holding his finger to his chin as he tapped. 

“It feels…a bit like when someone’s eyes are on you, but you’re unsure from where. Much like the feeling of Hunt’s eyes on me.” Vil pinched his nose at that as Malleus continued. “Kingscholar, what is it like for you?”

Leona’s ear flicked, tail swishing faster, much like Lucius when he got annoyed from Idia’s pestering. 

“It’s like a certain someone being annoying, poking and prodding at you with their pencil.” Leona smirked as you gasped. He put his hand out as you crawled over to him, holding out by your forehead as you swatted at him playfully, suddenly giddy.

“I’m not annoying!” You growled, though you started giggling as Leona’s tail swiped at your neck, tickling you. “Gah! Stop! That tickles!!”

Good. You could practically hear his chuckle. 

“Too bad, now stop. Tryin’ to nap before Nurse Goethel comes in.” Leona gave you a final shove, making you fall on your behind as he sighed against the window. 

“Oof! Fine, fine!” You laid on the ground, spreading your limbs and staring at the ceiling. 

Your emotions felt like they were bouncing all over the place. At one moment, you were flooded with anxiety, another with embarrassment. Next it was amusement, then annoyance, and now you suddenly felt exhausted, like your hair was being tugged in a million different directions. 

“Can you really tell?” you tilted your head up to flit your gaze between Malleus and Leona. “No one else has said anything.”

Malleus nodded while Leona hummed in an affirmative sound.

Perhaps the others can too? Malleus’s voice echoed through your mind the same time as Leona’s, the latter almost shoving in. 

You should freak out the Octopunk, he looks like he’s gonna puke. 

You looked back at Leona, noticing a small smirk at the end of his lips, and decided to take a peek at Azul leaning against the desk next to Idia. True to his word, Azul was wide-eyed and biting on his lip, his thoughts running a mile per minute. 

Oh Neptune, they’ve heard everything. But it’s recent, right? So nothing embarrassing…but still.

Azul furrowed his brow, glancing at you as he froze at making eye contact with you. Your heart froze in what you think was panic.

“...Azul.”

“Prefect.” He replied bluntly, refusing to break your gaze with him. 

“You, uh, sounding a little concerned?”

The others looked over at his direction, Leona looking particularly amused. 

“Oh? Does the Octopunk got secrets still? I thought I got them all out of you last year, maybe I need to bring up that old picture—”

“No you don’t!” Azul raised his voice, nearly going shrill, as he cleared his throat and looked away bashfully. His face was tinted a lilac shade. “I am just concerned about the privacy of my customers, many of my surviving contracts are rather private, you know.”

You don’t get to know about any more of my personal business… Azul’s eyes lit up. That sudden feeling of panic quickly morphed into smugness. 

Prefect~ You two made eye contact again, the others’ teasing questions about Azul’s thoughts becoming background noise. If you mention anything about what you just heard, then Jade might just happen to hear about your little…invasion of privacy.

Now you were positive that feeling of panic was genuinely your own. 

“Come on Prefect, what’s got the shady asshole all tight-lipped.” Jamil was smirking as he noticed you pale. “Oh? Did he say something? Don’t be shy, share with the group. Sharing is caring, you know?”

You shook your head and got up to stretch, facing Riddle and Malleus as you did, both looking amused. Riddle had an inkling of what Azul might have suggested, as the image of Jade popped up briefly. 

Malleus was a bit more confused, though he was musing about what Azul could have on you that would keep you tight-lipped. 

Perhaps an embarrassing picture? But my human is never embarrassed, they’re quite delightful. What is it, my friend? Do you want me to stop him? I will if you ask. 

You shook your head and answered, “No Hornton, you don’t gotta do anything to him.”

“He doesn’t have to do what?” Azul asked panickedly, a similar sense of foreign panic filling you as well, looking between you and Malleus with concern. 

Ah he’s scared…I guess that’s to be expected with Mal. 

You forgot that Malleus was technically someone to be feared. It was hard to fear someone who you watched cry over a brain freeze after eating ice cream too fast at 3am on a Tuesday evening outside Ramshackle. 

 “Tch, why are you scared of the damn lizard.” Leona grumbled as snuck up behind you, crossing his arms over your head and leaning his entire weight against you. “Doing that’s only going to make his ego bigger.”

“Are you really one to talk, Leona?” Vil chuckled, frowning as he noticed you buckling. “I think you’re a bit heavy for them.”

Leona’s chest vibrated as he made a rumbling sound, lifting a bit of his weight off you to sit back down, letting you rest lean against him.

Whatever, you don’t mind, do you herbivore? You can say something if you do. 

You remained silent as each person separated into a mini-group, conversing amongst each other. Vil and Jamil were quietly conversing as Jamil looked in the cupboard Nurse Goethel kept her medicinal herbs in. 

Azul was quietly observing Idia play a game on his phone, the latter turning it slightly towards Azul. Riddle was catching up with Leona as you struggled to stay upright, updating him with how the Spelldrive team was doing. 

Though he pretended not to care, you could hear his thoughts. He was pleased, though, he smacked his tail against your leg each time you listened in too closely. 

Malleus was the only one that kept to himself, humming a lullaby that he taught you not too long ago. He seemed content. 

You turned your attention to one of the potted herbs hanging on the windowsill you and Leona were next to. It was swaying from the breeze entering the cracks of the window, you hadn’t even noticed that Leona had the window opened. 

The pot was carrying Rosarian lavender, similar to one of the varieties on Earth. Divus and Goethel had both praised lavender as a versatile herb for both nonmagical and magical uses. 

Not only was it used for cooking, in cocktails, and as a tea, but as a core ingredient for nearly every magical protection and antiblot potion, but was both soothing and healing as a medicinal. Even Vil was particularly fond of using skin products that included lavender as a core ingredient. 

You thought the smell was pleasant. It was very floral, earthy, but it was light and sweet. It reminded you of Jade, as you could always smell something green and earthy on him every time he leaned in too close during class. You also thought about the light purple magic stone on his pen, and the scarf against his skin. The lighting of the lounge against his cheeks ever since you’d been coming to Octavinelle more often to organize the details for your dorms’ Halloween collaboration. 

Hmm?

You also thought about the way it tasted in the drinks you’ve had over the last few months. How it made your coffee sweet, but your hot chocolate earthy. How much Grim whined about the taste every morning you took the potion with him. You pretend to dislike the taste, so he wouldn’t feel silly about it. 

The soft knock from the office door drew everyone’s attention, as it cracked open for a tall, pale woman to step in and close it behind her. 

It was no mistake, based on the dark red and gold nurse’s army dress and the black scrubs under the skirt, along with a name tag. 

A. Goethel, N.P.M., Nurse Practitioner Mage

Nurse Amara Goethel herself. 

“You know I could hear you all raising your voices earlier, I am meant to be completing an examination, not checking in on you.”

Goethel was a beautiful woman, her long dark brown curls tied back into a low ponytail, though she had a thick strand of white curls on her bangs. Despite this, she had a beautiful, narrow face with high cheekbones and hooked nose, so beautiful that it rivaled even the most ethereal models you’ve seen with Vil. Her face didn’t make her narrow eyes and strict gaze any less intimidating, though.

You felt yourself shiver at the sudden combination of fear, delight, and worry that enveloped your body. 

“Prince Leona Kingscholar,” You felt the man freeze at the growl in her voice. “You get off them right this second. Straighten up, I know you can be a proper gentleman.”

You made an ‘oof’ sound, stumbling as Leona quickly and smoothly stood up. From the corner of your eye, you could see the others do the same, even Idia took off his hood and went upright in his seat. 

“Yes ma’am,” Leona replied, albeit gruffly and with a disgruntled tone. He reminded you of a chastised toddler. He shifted on the windowsill again, sitting straight this time though. You decided to sit between Malleus and Riddle again, curling in and fidgeting with the train on Riddle’s dorm uniform. 

His eyes darted to you briefly. Don’t wrinkle it. You nodded. 

Goethel clicked her tongue, making her way over to Vil. “I know every single student of mine has the ability to be a gentleman, yet you all drive me insane helping you get to that point.” 

She reached out for a polite hug, the two of them sharing a greeting kiss on each cheek. 

“Hello Vil, my darling! It’s been too long!” Goethel had an almost musical sound to her voice as she chirped. “Later, you’ll just have to catch me up on how you’ve been doing at your internship.”

“Of course, Nurse Goethel.” Vil hummed, smiling fondly. “Anything for you.”

Nurse Goethel let Vil go and moved to shuffling through her desk, smoothing out her clothes as she did. 

“Now, I know that you’re taking valuable time out of your duties as interns and housewardens, especially with the Spelldrive Tournament coming up, so I appreciate you taking the time to come and meet me.”

“Well, you mentioned it was important, something about our blot preventative potions, yes?” Azul spoke up. 

Goethel nodded, reaching for a small stack of files from her drawer. Each had your names written on the tab, along with the words ‘BLOT RISK’ next to them. 

“Yes. As we found over the summer, you all are at higher risk for rapid blot accumulation due to your previous overblots and trauma. Along with the particularly…stressful year you had, we’ve been looking for more ways to decrease your risk of overblotting again.”

If only we had properly funded counselors, Crowley. You could just hear the hiss in her thoughts as she shuffled through the paperwork. She paused at yours and Grim’s files for a moment, tapping at it with fingertips. Poor things…especially you two.

“The headmage made the research project official in September. And we’ve had some interest from a few different parties and companies.”

Idia snorted and mumbled, “Like S.T.Y.X.”

“Well, officially Jupiter Enterprises, but yes.” Goethel picked up another manilla folder as she continued. “But one was of surprising interest: Empress Apothecaries.”

You noticed Vil perk up, furrowing his eyebrows. Isn’t that Yev’s…wait. Vil suddenly glared at you, snapping his fingers in your direction. 

“Stop that! Having you poke around feels strange…”

Before he continued, Vil closed his mouth as Goethel looked over to him and raised her brow. She studied him for a moment, before looking towards you. 

“My love, leave dear Riddle’s clothing alone. Fidgeting is unbecoming.” She spoke softly to you, a gentle smile on her face. 

A nervous chuckle left your throat. “Sorry, nervous habit.” 

Tch, totally not fair that Ms. Goethel has her favorites. You could just imagine the annoyed look on his face, but Idia was looking at his hands, which were also fidgeting with his sweater. If I bounce my leg or pick at my hands, it’s “unbecoming” and “yOu’Re oF a hIGh StAtUS fAAAmIlY, Idia Shroud”. But if youuuu do it, it’s “my loooove~” and—HEY. STOP THAT PREFECT!

The flames on his head briefly turned brighter as he frowned, rubbing at his temples. 

“That does feel weird…” he mumbled, loud enough that Goethel turned her attention to him. She studied Idia for a moment, making the poor man freeze in fear.

“Relax, Idia.” She murmured, resting her chin on her folded hands. “What feels weird, was something missed on the exam?”

Idia’s face slowly started turning red and he shook his head, briefly glancing at you before looking down at his hands. 

Goethel’s gaze remained on him, before flitting over to you. Her brown eyes 

“Darling, explain.”

You bowed your head, looking up at Goethel with a guilty expression. 

“You know how after graduation last year, I talked to Crowley and you about my ‘condition’?”

Goethel raised her brows, still watching you like a cat with a mouse. 

“The one he requested you keep to yourself? You told them?”

“Well, I told Ace and Deuce…” You pouted, gesturing your head to Riddle. “Riddle noticed, and he told the others.”

Wait, Prefect you were supposed to keep it secret? Riddle sighed, rubbing his forehead in a frustration you could just see and feel radiating off him. Are you kidding me?

“Ah, I see.” Clicking her tongue, Goethel shook her head in exasperation, but smiled. “Well, considering the nature of your magic, it’s probably for the best that the people in this room are aware.” 

Goethel reached into her pocket, pulling out a vibrating phone and tapping it. Looking at it, she remained quiet as she stood back up, slipping all but Grim’s files back in her cabinet. You heard a click of a lock as she tapped it with the end of her wand. 

“Grim is almost done with the rest of his check in, I need to go back and make sure everything is okay.” She slipped pass Idia and Azul, briefly patting the former’s head as she did. “Ortho’s been very through as a student nurse, you should be proud Idia.”

You could feel something soft and soothing fill your head and Idia’s thoughts, a pleasant warmth growing until you felt warmth wrapping around you like a warm blanket coming out of a dryer.

“I’ll be back and we will discuss, now please behave yourselves.” 

With a click of her heels and the shutting of the door, your group remained silent, like they were waiting to be sure she was gone before speaking. 

“...So do all the faculty know?” You shifted uncomfortably as Jamil started speaking, the red feather in his hair following his movements. “It’s not surprising the headmage told you to keep it secret, psychics are rare and highly sought after by governments and royals.”

He tapped a finger to his chin, huffing as he continued. “I’ve heard stories about children being taken by soldiers once they showed signs of premonition, but Crowley probably cares less about that and more about using you for himself.”

You cringed at that, making a face at Jamil. “Well, I’m not super good at the premonition parts anyway, my dreams are more jumbled than anything.”

“That’s true,” Vil let out a soft chuckle as he nodded in agreement. “I remember when you tried to explain the dreams to Rook and I last spring, it sounded more like you were retelling a fairy tale than giving warnings of dark times.”

A memory of you, waving your hands around and using Epel like a prop in a play flashed through your mind, along with a sense of fond amusement. 

“Personally,” Jamil interrupted, looking (and feeling, you think) rather apprehensive. “I don’t like the idea that someone can listen into my head. Something as invasive as that should have been shared.”

“Well, I mean it’s not like you share your signature spells with everyone, I mean yours is basically mind control…” Jamil bristled at your comment, making you shrink in. “...I just mean it’s not that different from you.”

“I’d say it’s very different.” Azul replied, which was met with murmurs of agreement from Idia and Jamil. “No offense meant to you Prefect, but we have a right to keep our personal thoughts to ourselves, and using our signature spells on others have led to consequences. Yours does not, and I think we all deserve to know about that.”

You shrank further into yourself, making yourself smaller against the couch. Clenching Riddle’s train in your hands, you tucked your feet under your legs, feeling like a child being discussed at a parent-teacher meeting. 

Leona snorted at the others, stifling a laugh. “Are you so insecure that you’re afraid of the lil’ Herbivore of all people? You know, the one that you three,” he waved a finger at Azul, Jamil, and Riddle as he continued, “are supposed to look after?”

Pathetic, they couldn’t even harm a fly. Not a backbone in that entire body. 

A small offended noise made its way out of your throat as you started to fidget again with Riddle’s train.

He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but it just reminded you how most of the students viewed you: the helpless Prefect with the trouble making direbeast. 

Someone who needed to be cared for, to be watched over, to be tended to like a child that knows no better. 

I get that they worry…that they feel bad…but I can take care of myself. 

You felt Riddle’s hand cover your own, clenching his train tightly in your grasp. He gave you a squeeze as he narrowed his eyes at Leona. 

Yeah, yeah! Riddle knows it! He’s known me longer than anyone else in this room, he knows!

“I care for the Prefect immensely, as such I’ve done my duty to my friend and more, before anyone else here, I helped them!” Riddle spoke with a firmness that made your heart sink. 

“They’ve done well and have had nothing to worry about with my guidance, I’ve taken responsibility for my actions.” He wrinkled his nose as he snarked, “Unlike some of us.”

Irresponsible! An irresponsible shirk!

Leona stood abruptly, his foot stomping and tail whipping. His ears were pinned to his head as he growled, “You want to say something, Rosehearts? Then say it.”

Self-righteous little prick! 

Riddle stood as Leona did, his hand ripping out of your grasp as he raised his head at the other man. 

“All I’m saying is that some of us have taken effort and time to actually care for our friend, unlike some of us who dropped them the moment they could—”

“They ain’t a baby and I’m not a babysitter!” You uptight brat! “Besides, just because I don’t coddle them doesn’t mean I don’t do my part. I’m only doing what’s required, nothing more!”

Vil scoffed and shushed the two as their voices rose. “Can you two please quiet down? I refuse to be scolded because you can’t behave yourselves. And don’t lump me in with him, Riddle. I do my part.”

Someone here has to make sure they actually know how to take care of themselves—

Idia let out a snort, causing Vil to glare at him as his flames burned brighter in embarrassment. 

“What? What in the world could you possibly have to say? You’re here as well, after all that talk about working with Jupiter Enterprises, and yet you got stuck here due to what your magic did to them. And you don’t even do anything to make up for it!”

“Eh? Says the guy sending makeup and fancy skin lotions! How’s that supposed to help?”

Make them too pretty to cry? Ridiculous!

A pain shot up the side of your head as different voices started to pile up in your mind and ears. The overlapping sounds felt like pins being driven against your temples and between your eyes, like they were begging to burst from your skin and bleed out for space. 

“It’s self-care! Not just making them pretty!” N͈̉oT̐͞ t̜̽H͎A̋ͨt͒ ȳ̛̚Ö́u ẁ͎́ơ̧̓UlD͉͢ K̽n̮̙ͮOW̛̼!ͤͤ́

Fuck! My head!!

The saliva in your mouth turned hot and the back of your throat feeling uneasy, like something was trying to slither out of your stomach. 

“I do have to say, getting the Pr͎̀͞ë͇́̋f̰̒̐ẹcṭ’s͈ a̋b̵͆iͮͨlḭ̙͈t̆̓ïȩ̫s͎ͤ under control is more co_̷̶n̲̋c͗er̟̜͒n̒͊̌iͧn͕̦̮g͔ than—”

Shut up! I gotta—T̤Ḣ͎̥͌e̼̩̩͎̋͞ͅ p̴̡̯͙OͯͮU͓͑́́̚nD̨ͫ̉ͫ͟I͔̓̕͡ͅŃ̮̿g̷̹͇̙̔̔! IT WON’T STOP!

The thrumming against your head grew harsher and harsher, that putrid taste of bile growing along with the sounds. With the pressure—what was that pressure growing in the room? 

O̳͚̽h͕̝͎̞̓̌ͮ p̋l̲̻͒ẹ̭̻ͬ͌̉͢a͙͎̜ͪ͋ͅse̫̔̑.̱̫͈͌͒ “Under control? Maybe under your thumb—”

Child of man?

_ M̠ͦal̘? ṀÅ͜L̵̬͋L̺̞E͈̮͗U͕͖̲S̰̱ͥ!͙ M̸͐̒A̶ͤK͆E I̮̅͜T͑ S̶̸̶̝̦ͯ̃ͯ͌̏͞Ţ̧͖͇ͧͧͧO̝̯P̢̡̝̖͒̓ͮ͠ 

“Don’t impͩͅl̊y̢͍ t́hin̺̒g̱s̵ͤ,̢ͪ Jamil, and you’re one to tal_̈k̨̩͡,̳ͮ͘ especially with your s̨̓i͛g͐̐n̑ͤa̓tṵré̪ s̴̨̬͍̜̳͖̃̀̕p̑̈ͯ͡_eļ̼̯ͣ͊̐ͮ͑̅̈́l.”

Are you a͒̀l̈r͡ig͆̔̽h̵̀t̰̄̃?

IͨT͓ H̖͓Ṳ̀ͮR͕̈́ͥT͗́̕S̮͑ M̠̔Y̘̗͊ H̫EAͬͪ͞D̯̂ I̛͇T̈͛ H̡̚U̗RṰ͐S̩͈̽ AG̬A̧̟I͉̺N̍̏!͈͋  

“Look who’s talking now! I should c̱hop͛ yoͬ̈u up into a s̵̐̈́e̲a̔̕fó̷̘o̡̓ḑ͡—”̄

I̓ͬ́ CA͔Ñ͕ Fͦ E̜ E̡̢̙ L͔̊_ Ȅ̪ V E͓̓̃ R Y T H̗̲ͮ I͉ͤ̇ N̪̝ͣ G 

“̈ȘͮH̎ͅŰ͢͜T͂̅̾ U̵͜P!̞”͊ͫ̐

A piercing, high pitched sound rang through all your ears, like someone rang a whistle straight into them, as everyone cringed in pain. As you clutched your head and collapsed on the ground, an inky, black liquid leaving your mouth along with the bile you puked out. 

“(NAME)!” You think you heard Malleus yelling your name, but it merged with a bombarge of thoughts and cries from everyone else. Frankly, you couldn’t tell what was in your head and what was actually being spoken. 

Two hands moved your hair out of your face, holding it back as someone else used a cold, wet cloth to wipe your mouth clean. As you blinked your eyes open (when did I close them?), a purple light was radiating from your left, you think it was Vil’s magic. 

“Is that blot with their puke? I thought the potion was supposed to reduce blot?”

“It is, it is for me anyways.” 

You’re pretty sure it was Riddle who was holding the cloth to your face while Malleus was holding your hair back and hovering a protective arm around your midsection.

“No matter, they feel feverish, we should help them cool down.”

“Should I call Goethel over?”

A loud, resounding “NO!” made you flinch again, another hand reaching over to cast a cooling spell to soothe you. 

“Ahem.” The bickering immediately quieted, an unamused Goethel at the doorway, with Grim and Othro peeking behind her, looked at the panicked group over you. “Are you all quite done?”

Stutting over as a force to be reckoned with, each man quickly backed away to give her space, all except for Malleus who remained holding you. 

“Draconia, lift their head for me.” You felt a slender hand gently push your chin up as Goethel pressed the tip of her wand against your forehead. 

It was warm. Like the sun itself was covering you in a blanket. 

“Take deep breaths.” That’s it my dear. “Hear my voice.” Focus on my thoughts.

Memories flashed through your head. Two little girls, one with black hair and the other with golden. A tall woman covered in intricate tattoos and piercings warmly smiling. One of a younger VIl with longer, braided hair eagerly watching as Goethel stirred a cauldron and spoke in soft, sweet tones. 

That’s it, it’s safe. You’re safe. “Let’s get some water in you. Gentlemen, could one of you grab the water bottle in my bag? It’s under my desk.”

You heard some shuffling around, Malleus helping you back up onto the couch behind you. Finally opening your eyes, you saw Riddle holding a water bottle up to you, hands hovering as you took it and chugged down as much cold water as you could in one go. 

“S-slow down! You’ll choke.”

Ignoring your friend, you continued drinking as much as you could, water spilling from the corners of your mouth, until you could crush the plastic between your hands. 

Finally taking a breath and feeling clear air in your lungs, you opened your arms for a teary-eyed Grim, who’d been inching closer and closer to your feet. 

(Name)...

He obliged, hopping into your arms and pressed the top of his head against your chin. 

“I noticed something was wrong when Grim suddenly started coughing blot. Now what in the world did you seven do to them?”’

An immediate cry amongst the group made you flinch, voices overlapping once again. 

“Quiet.” 

Like soldiers hearing a command from their superior, everyone immediately shut their mouths, watching Goethel and holding their breaths as if she’d be set off. 

“Now, one at a time, Vil.” She nodded at the blonde who nodded back. “What happened?”

“We were all having a bit of a…’friendly’ argument when the Prefect suddenly dropped and started throwing up…blot of all things.”

Riddle spoke up next to you, though he spoke softly, like you would spook like one of his hedgehogs. 

“It seemed that the more, ah, aggressive our conversation got, the more sick the Prefect became. I’m not sure what exactly—”

“The other’s magic fluctuated as their emotions grew, it had an adverse effect on them.”

The others looked at Malleus in surprise and a bit in awe, you think you heard Jamil whisper to Azul, “he can sense that?” Though Leona snorted. 

“Obviously, no surprise the rest of you couldn’t sense it.”

You finally looked up at the group, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“What are you…”

“A mage’s magic is connected to their emotions and mental state.” Goethel sighed as she patted your head, walking to sit at her desk. “Your magic is especially sensitive to other’s emotional state, hyper-empathetic if you will. Bring these seven in, and you have even more for your magic to source.”

You’re just permanently stuck being interconnected to them.

Lacing her hands together and resting her chin on top, Goethel gave all of you a weary look. 

“As we’ve seen it, the current blot preventative is just that, a preventative. Most of you have had minimal blot production, but you also produce far more than safe when stressed, especially compared to the average mage.”

Far more? But we’ve been doing so well!

“W-what do you mean far more? I thought we were doing well?” Idia looked sick at the thought of overblotting again, though the others didn’t look too hot either.

Goethel looked off to the side with a sad look as she explained. “You do, for the most part. But the trauma of the events has left a permanent scar on your brain. Combined with the fact that the overblots practically happened one after the other, the PTSD keeps you all at a constant state of fight or flight.”

You felt both of your friends next to you tense, a sense of overwhelming dread, not your own, filling your senses.

“You either produce little blot, or far too much of it. The issue with the current potion is that it only removes excess blot for everyday use. Say that something happens that requires significantly more magic and energy, you’d be at an increased risk of a much more deadly overblot.”

Silence. All of you looked down to the ground, Goethel’s words leaving a bleak feeling in the air. As your group processed her words, Goethel took the opportunity to bring her files back up from the cabinet and filter through her papers. 

“With this in mind, we may have a solution to not just reduce your overall blot at the end of the day, but also gradually reduce the amount you produce.”

Goethel gestured for Ortho to come forward, offering him a small stack of papers. As she continued speaking, Ortho handed a sheet to each of you. 

“Something to help bring the hormones in your brain back to balance. And something to help (Name) manage the massive influx of magic they receive through the day.”

Perking up, you eagerly took the paper from Ortho and moved Grim higher in your arms to read the large font at the top of the page: 

EMPRESS APOTHECARIES MEMO: Night Raven College Blot Preventative Project TOPIC: Arcanoexcreta Regulator PROJECT LEAD: Yev Quispe  

“Huh, I didn’t know Yev was—”

“Oh no, absolutely NOT!” You jumped, both from the sudden urgency in your veins and from Vil’s raised voice. 

“I must protest, I was Yev’s housewarden for a single year and the sheer lack of care and foresight of his ‘experiments’ that one year—it could only bode danger for us, especially for the Prefect!”

Vil’s memories of a younger Yev leaving an alchemy room on fire, an explosion in one, Yev covered in hot pink sludge in another, and a last one of Yev giving some random Pomefiore student a pink, unlabeled vial. Vil’s dread filled your own body as the student screamed in pain as their bones and skin snapped and conformed until they were turned into a...llama? Yev only shrugged until Vil came up to him and smacked his forehead.

Goethel sighed, getting up and waving her wand to bring forth a cauldron at the corner of the office, her cabinets opening and pouring different ingredients in. You recognized them for the materials needed for your usual preventative potion. 

“Yev also has made significant progress in the project, and as heir of Empress Apothecaries, he’s made the most donations towards research.” 

No doubt to have the most say in how the project goes. Still…

“As experimental as Mr. Quispe is, I’ve taken a look at what he’s been playing with, and it has promise. I really suggest that you all just have faith. What do you say my dear (Name)?”

Surprised filled your features as you looked at her expectant face, waiting for your answer.

Yev’s a bit of a jerk, but he’s pretty talented in potionology….

“I think it might be worth a try, I’m not opposed to it—”

Riddle scoffed, “Of course you do. Prefect, I care for you but you have no sense of danger.” He flinched at the glare Malleus turned to give him.

Still, he gave Malleus a defiant look and continued. 

“Am I wrong? They’ve had barely a full year of magical education, and during that year they’ve simply gone with what others have said. Can’t blame them for that, but still.”

What did Cater say once, you ‘go with the flow’.

Riddle wasn’t wrong, you tend to go with whatever others told you to do. It comes with the territory of not being from this world. 

The others were fully aware of this fact. At least, they were now. Riddle and Malleus were the only ones that you had explicitly told of the fact. The others had inklings, but never had confirmations until later on. 

You suppose that’s why they tended to take the lead on things regarding you and anything magic related. Even now, when you were a proven mage, they spoke on your behalf. 

You weren’t sure how you felt about that. 

“I agree with Riddle. Are you positive this is a good idea? Not that I’m doubting your decisions, Nurse Goethel!” 

Jamil rapidly backtracked at the look Goethel gave him as he questioned her. 

“It’s just that, well it’s really experimental, and we’ve all been doing fine on the current blot preventive potion…I don’t see a need to change it.”

The others nodded in agreement, each of them sitting in their respective seats as they waited for Goethel to finish making the latest batch of potion. The lavender buds on the window sill matched the purple color and floral scent of the potion.

“Besides that, Yev’s potion is for a class project, is it not?” Vil piped up, moving over to assist Goethel, like it came naturally to him. “Leave it at that, then. We’ve been doing just fine with the current preventative, it’s already highly experimental as it is…”

The room jumped as Goethel flicked her wrist, making the cupboard slam harsher than usual, turning to narrow her gaze at the 8 of you. 

The rest of you curled into yourselves, Leona especially avoided her gaze, images of his sister-in-law with a similar look floating in his head. Except for Idia, who decided that focusing on his phone and earbuds in hand was ideal. 

He also went with the flow like you, though that was more so he wouldn’t be bothered. 

“Are you doubting my abilities, Mr. Viper? Mr. Rosehearts? Mr. Schoenheit?” Goethel hissed through gritted teeth. She’d always been stricter on the others than you.

“Did I not take you under my wing since your first year? Did I not mentor you? Did I not give you access to my stock of poisons and herbs? And yet, you are doubting my abilities? My insight? My medical expertise?”

Vil shook his head and smiled politely. “Of course not, Nurse Goethel, it was a slip of the tongue. I completely trust you and your expertise, I just meant that these types of potions aren’t necessarily something I’d trust a student with making.”

Goethel relaxed, gesturing for Vil to help her at the cauldron. He followed, quickly and easily following in her steps with no words exchanged. 

“While it’s true that he is using it as part of the potionology project that dear Riddle and (Name) are in, I think having the two of them observe and report back to me would counter any concerns that I’d normally have.”

It was fluid, hypnotic, almost dance-like as the two worked around each other. Hands exchanging vials, the wave of a maroon-stoned wand, the soft mutterings of a spell. Even a soft glowing aura was leaving their hands as they worked. 

A reminder of just how much more powerful, adept, they were compared to you. 

“I understand, but do you really think I’d give you any potion without checking it myself? What a ridiculous notion.”

The rest of you relaxed again as she preoccupied herself with her potion making. She had a box full of empty vials labeled with each of your names floating from her closet to the table, though Malleus and Idia had bigger vials than the rest of you.

“What have you guys been taking with yours?” You’d taken to sitting criss-cross on the floor, Grim settled on your lap while Malleus remained behind you on the couch.. 

“Tea, a herbal one before I go to bed.” Riddle answered first, settling back into his seat. “The flavor matches best.”

“Water, myself.” Vil went second, handing Goethel different times as she made her batch. Jamil nodded along Vil and made a comment. 

“Same, it’s best to take medications with water anyways.” 

“Sure, sure, but have you had it with a charged lemonade? I could chug those forever” Idia sighed, his thoughts filled with the image of some cafe’s large pink lemonade. “I can’t believe they’re discontinuing it…”

“Didn’t 3 people die because of how high the caffeine content is in those?” Leona replied, ear flicking in your group’s direction as he watched the few students walking around outside. 

“Ya, but it’s not my problem that they’re too dumb to realize that their stats just can’t handle the lemonade. There’s a label on it for a reason. Besides, they had like 5 in one sitting, I only had three!”

“How do you not have a heart condition, Idia?” Jamil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Instead, he decided to turn to you instead and ask, “What about you, Prefect? Malleus? What do you two take.”

Malleus grew a small, soft smile, gesturing to you. “My Child of Man comes up with different combinations, and we try them together to see what is best. We’ve been doing mostly espresso-based drinks as of late, I have to say though it’s not my favorite…”

The others looked a mix of surprise and mild amusement. Each of them certainly had their own opinions. 

How sweet, I never imagined Malleus having such a soft spot for the Prefect. 

Aw, that’s quite cute, I understand what Rook was saying about you two being a sweet match. 

Ew, with the lizard? Seriously? I know you’re listening. Herbivore: get better standards.

Damn. I thought he’d be lonely forever, just like meeee…F-M-L…

I’m surprised that Malleus never came after us for how we treated you Prefect, did you sugarcoat the fact that I launched you to your death in the desert? I don’t know if I should be thankful or concerned. 

However, Azul’s thoughts were preoccupied with other concerns. You thought it would be about a certain eel, you were expecting it, actually. Instead, a pink-haired, lanky boy popped into your head. 

Ugh, now that I’m really thinking about it… Dammit Aspen! Do you even realize the trouble you’re probably bringing to yourself? Are you lying to me when you say everything is fine at Ramshackle? You must be, there’s no way the Prefect isn’t upset, I know how you are! I know what you think! How am I supposed to protect my little brother if he’s too stubborn to tell me anything!?

You could just feel the anxiety radiating off him as different scenarios of Aspen getting bullied and picked on by the other student in Ramshackle ran through his head like a train wreck. 

Suddenly, like he’d been poked by a hot metal stick, Azul snapped up to glare at you. 

ACK! Stop it! You’re making my brain itch, how do you even—just stop listening!

You made a popping sound with your lips, looking back down at Grim to scratch at his forehead. 

“Mmm, can we still get that cav-ee-ar later with Hornton?”

Malleus looked at you in curiosity as you leaned over to murmur to him.

“Grim wants me to ask you to buy us fancy food from the Mostro Lounge. We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Malleus smiled and gave a soft caress to the back of your head. 

“Is that what you’d like?”

Shrugging, you opened your mouth to reply when Goethel suddenly cleared her throat. Looking at her, she’d already separated the potion into the various vials, now all floating above her head. 

“It’s done. You’ll return in one month once again for your next batch. Hopefully by then, we can choose a select few of you to test the new potion. Once you’ve checked that you’ve received all 30 doses, you can leave.”

The group of you all eagerly grabbed your vials, some like Leona and Idia just taking them and leaving, while Riddle, Vil, and Jamil all double-checked to ensure they had the correct amount.

Azul, surprisingly, also left without checking the count. You saw an image of Jade, looking fondly at some sort of flower in a makeshift greenhouse, flash through your mind as he bolted out of the room at surprising speed. 

Child of Man. “Here.” Malleus grabbed your attention by holding your share of the potions in his left hand, gesturing for you to take them. 

“I already counted for you. Now I believe you were wanting to eat at Ashengrotto’s establishment, correct?”

Getting up with an eager Grim squirming in your arms, now chattering about fancy fish and drinks, you smiled and shrugged. 

“Yes they do! Henchhuman wants fancy food, right? Right?!”

Cav-ee-ar! Sashimi! Crab and lobster! Gimme all of it!

“Ah, if you don’t mind Hornton, I’m happy with whatever.”

Malleus tilted his head at you and smirked, chuckling to himself as he offered an arm for you to grab. 

“Then we shall get lunch, if not to at least sate your beastie’s appetite.”

Grim cheered as he pranced out of the office, not unlike a kitten. You and Malleus followed in a comfortable silence as you made your way to the Hall of Mirrors.

You sighed leaning against Malleus’s side as you two walked. It was now midday, so most students were in their rooms relaxing and eating lunch, leaving you three to take a private walk. 

“Are you alright, my Child of Man?” Malleus murmured, titling his head as his eyes wandered over your form. “You seem tired, are you sure you’re dealing with your magic adequately?”

Nodding, you looped your arm around his left, swinging it back and forth. He let you, his arms going slack as he chuckled to himself.

Silly human. 

“You like that I’m silly, it’s why you keep me around~” You teased, giggling as he suddenly moved you to twirl in front of him. “Besides, I’m handling everything just fine.”

Even just now? A memory from just a moment ago of you hunched over on the ground as Malleus watched in horror as puke mixed with blot made you sick. You think you could feel Malleus’s panic from the memory as well. 

“Ugh, can you think of something else? The memory makes me feel sick…did you feel sick when I did that?”

Malleus frowned, looking away guiltily at Grim, who was far enough ahead of you guys happily prancing down the path that he couldn’t hear you two. 

I apologize. “You’ve always been particularly empathetic, I forget that translated rather harshly into your magic.” 

You wrinkled your nose at that. “Yeah, it’s weird feeling feelings that aren’t my own. Only happens when all of you are with me though.”

Hmm, that’s something I suppose. “Better than having you get overwhelmed everyday. Are the three young ones good at being mentors to you? You seem rather close to Rosehearts.”

“Yeah!” You smiled, giggling as you saw Grim tapping his food impatiently at the Octavinelle mirror. “He’s a bit overbearing sometimes, but overall he means well.”

Good, as long as they are taking care of you. It’s the least they can do. 

“Horns…” You clicked your tongue, finally entering the mirror and into the dorm’s waters. The bubble was larger than usual, accommodating Malleus’s tall stature. “I’m not a child you know…you would sneak away from Silver and Sebek all the time so I don’t know why you also think I need to be taken care of like one!”

“Nyah! Yeah! My henchhuman only needs me!” Grim proudly puffed up his chest jumping back onto his usual spot on your shoulder. 

“Of course, that’s not what we really mean, my Child of Man.” Malleus pouted, following you to the entrance of the lounge where a random Octavinelle student was working at host. 

Your friend seemed oblivious to the other student’s awe and fear on his face as they rapidly gathered two menus. 

“I just want to feel secure that we all do our part to ensure your success in our world.” To repent…

You opened your mouth to retort, but you were interrupted by a familiar clearing of the throat. 

“Prefect! Grim! Malleus! How wonderful for me that you all decided to drop by!” Azul had a big smile on his face, though you could tell it seemed strained. 

He took the menus from the worker’s hands, waving them away which they were more than happy to do. 

“I was just going to call for you, my dear (Name). Shall I have Floyd take the other two to your table while you and I go to my office to discuss certain, personal matters?”

Grim bristled on your shoulder, sticking a tongue out at Azul, then yelping as Floyd suddenly popped out from behind Azul with a grin. 

EEP!

“Heya Baby Seal! Let’s take you and Sea Slug to a real nice table, the boss gotta talk to Shrimpy for a bit.” Floyd giggled as he took the menus from Azul’s hand, strutting over with his signature lazy grin. 

Malleus hummed, narrowing his eyes at the other two as Grim did his best to hide behind you. 

“I’d rather spend my short amount of time here with my friend, perhaps we can join you?”

Is it something that can wait, Child of Man?

“I’d rather meet with them one-on-one, it’s about a particularly…personal matter. Wouldn’t you say, Little Pearl?”

An image of Jade once again popped into your mind as Azul gave you a polite smile.

“Well? I’m sure you understand, it won’t take long at all.”

Huffing, you gestured for Malleus to go as you handed him a whiny Grim, who’d taken to digging his claws into your cape. 

“It’s fine Hornton, I’ll try to be quick, just get me some water.”

Alright. He nodded, as Grim cried out. 

“Noooooo! Don’t let them anemone you like me! Stay strong henchhuman!”

You felt bad hearing Grim’s cries, but focused on following Azul, who remained rather quiet, only audibly though. 

Now that I know for sure you can hear me, please be calm. I’d rather not have a rampaging dragon in my restaurant due to a misconstructed reaction. 

Huffing once again, you crossed your arms as Azul opened the door to his office and gestured for you to enter with a flourish of his arm.

You took your usual seat on the right side couch, closest to the desk as Azul took his own seat. Taking his overcoat off and gently folding it over the chair, along with his scarf and hat on his desk, Azul heavily sighed. 

Crossing his fingers together and resting his chin on top, Azul finally spoke.

“Now, (Name), let us talk about our mutual friend, yes?”

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR MEN X READER, USING DOE EYES ON THEM

summary: you give them doe eyes in order to persuade them into whatever you want

warnings: nsfw, suggestiveness

amara’s note: i love them holy shit but my fav one this time is eris🥹🥹

Rhysand:

Looks down at you with amusement

He knows what you’re trying to do

“ come on rhyssssss, just one tiny mission. I promise I’ll be super careful, baby”

Unbeknownst to you he agreed the second you asked since he can’t really say no to you

But he loves to see just how desperate you’ll get, how much you’ll beg him.

And paired with those docile eyes? Yeah he’s a goner.

He might seem composed and calm on the outside, but trust me that man is panicking

Rhysand knows he’ll say yes to anything, obey you in every way when you flash him those eyes.

“Okay, but please be careful. If you feel your shoulder hurt again, come home. Abandon the mission and prioritize yourself, do you hear me?”

The moment the words leave his mouth, it hits him like a brick that he agreed to give you a mission when you've barely recovered from an injury.

He never fails to be surprised by your ability to controll him

You words and eyes are powerful indeed…

Azriel:

You’d think he’d have some sort of resistance or something but no

If anything, he folds the quickest of them all

“ Az, could i please-”

“ Yes ”

He doesn’t even let you finish talking, he just looked into your begging eyes and said yes to whatever it is you wanted

There isn’t a thing on this planet that he wouldn’t do for you

But when you pair it with those doe eyes, standing shorter than him as you look up through your lashes with a slight tilt in your head, lips pouting, he gets hard

You look so submissive and innocent, it sparks something primal in him.

“You don’t have to ask me for things, my love, just tell me whatever it is you want and need.”

He’s grabbing you by your waist, pullling you in closer as he kisses you with need.

I’m so serious, this man is down bad

Cassian

He's been working late every day for two weeks, and you've had enough. You miss your mate, and you want him close.

Clad in a slutty little nightgown that screamed ‘give me attention’ , you sauntered into his office

At first, irritation crashes over you like a rogue wave because he isn’t even bothering to lift his head when he greets you. So, you declare it's time for a hands-on approach to spice up the scene.

Rounding his chair, you stand behind him, and with expert hands, you start giving his stiff shoulders a massage. His groans reverberate through the room.

"That feels so good, sweets," his voice is raspy and laced with exhaustion.

Smiling to yourself, your hands travel further down to his chest, where you attempt to unbutton his shirt.

He grabs your wrist, smirking, and drags you so you’re in front of him, raising an eyebrow at your bold move.

Cassian's brain short-circuits as you stand there with big eyes, begging for attention, and then lower yourself to your knees, looking up at him.

“ baby, i missed you so much. Please let me take care of you…”

Stunned, he's left speechless, resorting to a simple nod in response.

Safe to say, you were both pleased and relieved by the end of it all

Lucien:

He isn’t stupid, he KNOWS you use your eyes to get your way

But he literally doesn’t care, he’ll give in to you

He likes watching you work for it though

Standing before him, hands innocently behind your back, you arch your back, pushing your chest out, your eyes widening with a mix of need and desire. Your lips form a seductive pout, silently pleading for him to sweep you away to The Continent.

“is that how you ask for something, my love?”

He's feral, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he watches you, curious to see how far you'll go for a yes.

Little do you know, he's already packed your bags, setting the stage for a surprise journey.

“Please, Luc, I really wanna come with you. Let me convince you.”

You got him WHIPPED, like he’s panicking inside, fucking sweating

“Yeah? How will you convince me?”

Stepping closer to him, you whisper your deprived thoughts, reveling in the way he shudders

Yeah…

You were limping on your trip

Eris:

Eris had never felt so… conflicted in his life

He had never bent over backwards for someone or even let anyone occupy his mind the way you do

The first time you used your eyes to persuade him, he nearly stumbled backward, then attempted to ignore you because he felt weak.

Eris had no idea eyes could be so powerful, and he had a feeling he’d say yes to absolutely everything and anything you wanted

After a few times, he stopped feeling so conflicted and started looking forward to your little manipulation sessions

You had attempted to seduce him all day, but he insisted on working, especially since he had recently ascended to the position of High Lord and had a mountain of paperwork to tackle.

Walking into his office, you strutted around, touching his belongings and casually perusing through the documents on his desk.

Eventually, you got closer to his table and bent over, acting like you needed something.

Eris looked up only to be met with a sight full of your tits. Sighing, he looked up at you with a secret smile,

“I know what you’re doing, sweet thing.”

“ What? Is it a crime to help my mate with his work?”

You look at him with round eyes, your head slightly lowered as your eyes do the talking

His eyes, simmering with desire, traced every curve of your form as a sultry smile played on his lips, creating tension that sizzled with heat.

“Do you remember the last time you gave me those eyes, love?”

Fuck yeah, you do. He had fucked you stupid for hours, in every part of the Forrest House, showing you new levels of pleasure you hadn’t even considered, eyes rolling into the back of your head everytime he pumped into you

Your body shuddered at the memory, body aching for more. Giving him your most desperate, doe-eyed expression, you ask your mate for more

“What if I want it to happen again?”

Giving you a once over with raised brows, his handsome face breaks into a foxy smile as he signals you to come closer

Biting your lips to hide your smile, you oblige, helping him relieve his tension and stress

[captain-hawks]

you want to blame it on the sheer amount of people packed into mattsun’s small, tenth floor apartment—the way it’s suddenly difficult to breathe.

at least that’s what you mutter to makki as you excuse yourself and head toward the balcony’s reprieve, your drink forgotten on the coffee table as you step out into the frigid winter air.

but fuck if the familiar, warm scent of iwaizumi’s cologne doesn’t invade your nostrils a moment later anyway, something you’re beyond embarrassed to recognize with your eyes closed.

you don’t turn around as the sliding door clicks shut, eyes trained on some unremarkable landmark in the distance that you can’t quite make out in the darkness. and as he comes to stand beside you, forearms leaning on the metal handrail inches away from your own, you’re not sure if the slight shiver that wracks its way down your spine is from the flakes of snow that have begun to settle on your bare arms or his maddening proximity.

you can’t fucking stand it—this unceremonious collapse of your lungs in his presence, the blistering heat that prickles down your neck and closes tightly around your throat.

something soft and warm settles around your shoulders, and your throat goes dry as the zipper of his jacket brushes against your neck.

“where’s your girlfriend?” you ask, hoping the question doesn’t sound as pathetic as you feel.

it’s funny how these things work—you spent years trying to get over your silly high school crush, only for all of it to come crashing back down in your lap gathered at the bar with friends celebrating his return to japan after uni.

it’s funny—the way you could hardly remember the name of the guy you were casually seeing in that moment as you watched iwaizumi walk in with a pretty girl clutching his elbow.

iwa laughs quietly, and it’s a little rough, a bit self-deprecating. “where’s your boyfriend?”

it’s funny—the odd curve of his tone on the last word.

“don’t have one,” you reply, casting him a sideways glance, his expression unreadable.

“she told me she wanted to move to japan with me,” he says carefully, exhaling a cloud of warm air as his gaze sweeps to the skyline.

your heart sinks.

“and?”

“and i told her i wanted to break up.”

you whip around to face him, convinced you heard him wrong. “you what?”

he reaches across the space between your bodies, hands grasping the bottom edges of the jacket and zipping it up to your chin (and it’s so goddamn reminiscent of the way he used to chide you for not dressing properly on the walk to school that you sway a little on your feet).

you can’t help the way you nudge his foot in return just like you always used to��it’s muscle memory, more than anything else.

and yet you’re not anticipating the way he still follows up in kind, hooking a foot around the back of your ankle, muttering about your shit choice of shoes in the dead of winter. while it’s hardly a tap, it’s enough to make you take a step forward in surprise as the lines between the past and present begin to blur, stumbling slightly.

two hands at your waist steady you, and despite the layers between his palms and your hips, your nerve endings ignite.

“coming home made me realize that even moving to the other side of the world wouldn’t stop me from wondering,” he says softly, snowflakes accumulating in his mussed brown hair.

“wondering what, iwaizumi?”

he doesn’t answer you for a moment, just stares at you with an intensity that makes you briefly question the physics of spontaneous combustion.

“what it’d be like to hear you call me by my name for once,” he murmurs. “what it’d be like to do this, if you’d let me.” carefully, he traces the curve of your bottom lip, his touch feather-light.

your legs wobble, just a little, and iwaizumi’s left hip and thigh press up against you. it’s a weather phenomenon, the way everything goes quiet during snow fall—but it’d all be drowned out either way right now against the erratic thrumming behind your ribcage.

“i missed you, hajime,” you whisper, the syllables heavy on your tongue—they’re at odds with this dizzy lightness in your chest.

his eyes fall shut for a beat, lips curving upward in a faint smile, his fingers twitching subtly at your waist.

you begin to lean forward, and there’s a quiet sigh of relief that falls from his lips before he cups your face in both of his hands, his mouth crashing into yours.

[roanniom]

mechanic eddie is so hot that id break my car on purpose to see him

The Tune-Up

Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, unprotected sex / PIV sex / semi-public sex, dry humping, really shitty and poorly research car mechanic details

So maybe you intentionally bought a clunker when your last car finally bit the dust. Maybe you found a perpetual lemon of a car that you positively knew would conk out on you every other week meaning you just happen to need to take it to the shop all the time. The shop with the hot mechanic who always has his greased up coveralls pulled down and tied around his waist, revealing the tattoos and muscle and sinew that you could look at for hours on end.

So what?

It's the fourth time this month that you have had to roll your hunk of junk into his garage, and you check your make up in the rear view mirror before hopping out, arranging your hand casually on your hip as you see him walking up, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Eddieeeee. It's making that clanking sound again," you call out in a sing-song voice. Eddie gives you a lopsided grin and sweeps his messy curls up into a ponytail, giving you the perfect view of his stretching pecs beneath his thin tank top.

"You know you don't have to keep abusing that poor car just to see me. You can just ask me out, sweetheart."

Your heartbeat leaps into your throat and your jaw trembles.

"I...that's...I..."

"I'm just messin' with you!" Eddie chuckles at your sudden speechlessness and grabs a wrench, kicking the creeper in front of him and flopping down on it to roll under your car on his back.

The moment he disappears you bite your lip to contain a groan. The man is just so fucking fine. You tilt your head to take in the flexing of his thighs - his lower half the only thing visible right now - under the material of his coveralls. Your appreciation is cut short, however, when he rolls out only a moment after.

“You’re staring, sweetheart,” he says with a cheeky grin, rolling back out from under your car but remaining on his back on the roller.

You look away abruptly at being caught.

“You know my car really does just suck and break and stuff,” you argue lamely in answer to his earlier question. Eddie barks out a laugh and rests his arms behind his head so he can relax there while staying reclined and looking up at you. It gives him a perfect vantage point up your skirt, but he keeps his eyes trained on your face.

“How do you know I don’t keep rigging it to break myself so you have to keep coming back here?” Eddie says in a lilting tease. Your gaze snaps back to him and he raises his eyebrows in a challenge. You feel your entire body come alive at the implication of his statement but try to calm your heart beat by remembering that he's always this flirty.

"Oh yeah? Angling for more chocolate chip cookies there, Munson?" you ask, referring to the fact that you'd brought him cookies as an additional tip during the last few tune ups. Eddie licks his lips and looks you up and down slowly in a way that has your stomach flipping. It's almost like he's considering something. His smile is large when it seems like he's made his decision.

"Angling for a kiss is more like it."

Blood rushes to your ears. If he said anything else, you wouldn't be able to hear it because suddenly you're feeling like you're going to pass out and your vision narrows to the point that he's the only thing you can see.

It's late in the day on a Friday and Eddie's the only one in the shop for closing. You know that. It's why you come on those days in particular, to ensure you get him all on your own. The garage door is open to an empty street that's far enough off the beaten path that you don't think any passersby will be ambling around anytime soon.

So you drop your bag, inhale sharply to hold your breath, and step forward so that you stand with your feet planted on either side of his stretched out legs. Eddie's smile widens with surprise that you've actually taken the bait, but his eyes widen even more when you drop down to straddle his lap.

He'd expected you, at most, to kneel down beside him and playfully peck his cheek. Worst case scenario you'd tell him off for his cheekiness.

But here you are, skirt fanned out around to obscure the fact that you are now pelvis to pelvis. You drop your hands to his chest, fisting fingers in his dirty tank top over the knot of his coverall arms tied at his waist.

"Do you want payment before services or after?" you ask, voice surprisingly steady in spite of the rush of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins. Eddie looks dumbfounded for only a split second before the cocky attitude is back. His hands find your thighs and grip you, holding you down against the most intimate part of him.

"How 'bout a down payment to start with?" he asks, sliding his hands up your hips and to your waist, most likely leaving the material smudged with grease. You don't care at all, of course. He could cover your whole body in grease if it meant you got to feel his hands on you everywhere.

So you lean down and bring your lips to his. Your initial intent is a quick peck. But after your mouths meet, Eddie's lips part to let out a sinful moan and suddenly one of his hands is cupping the back of your neck to keep you down on top of him. The peck becomes a kiss, and even that morphs into something a lot more dirty and a lot less dignified.

Not that there's anything dignified about straddling your mechanic in the first place.

"Wow. I never want another fucking chocolate chip cookie ever again," Eddie grunts against your neck once he's pulled away to give you a chance to breathe. You giggle but it turns into a moan as he proceeds to immediately suck a hickie into the skin of your throat.

"I'm glad this form of payment works - ah! Works for you!" you say breathlessly as he moves his lips up to drag and suck at the spot behind your ear. His hands grip your waist so tightly that you feel yourself sinking against him as snug as you can get, the pulse between your legs becoming more and more insistent.

"I'm sorry, but your cash is no longer any good here, baby," Eddie rumbles into your skin and all the laughter stops because in that moment you feel the heat emanating from yourself and from him and that is the exact second that you feel his hardness nudging against you.

You pull back to make eye contact, find him glassy eyed and kiss bitten and rumpled staring back up at you.

"Well I guess we can get that figured out when you finish the job," you whisper, experimentally swirling your hips. Eddie's feet plant more firmly on the floor to keep the motion from pushing the roller, and his now bent thighs create a slope that causes you to slide further down and into his crotch. You both groan collectively at the increased contact.

"I already finished actually. So we can discuss payment now," Eddie says, leaning up and capturing your lips again. You pull back a second later, however, when his words finally register.

"What do you mean you already finished?"

"I just had to tighten a bolt," Eddie says with a grin, lifting up the wrench he had abandoned at his side the moment you'd dropped down on him. Your eyes narrow and your heart skips a beat at the implication.

"How did you know that's all that needed to be done?"

Eddie's grin becomes sheepish, as you anticipated. He drops the wrench back on the ground and rubs the back of his neck.

"I might have....uh....left it a little loose after your last visit. Just to make sure you'd....you know. Brighten this shop up again soon."

You try your best to hide the massive smile threatening to burst out on your face. But you make sure to ask the first question on your mind.

"My car couldn't have, like, fallen apart on the highway or anything with that bolt loose could - ,"

"Oh fuck no!" Eddie cuts you off, gripping at your waist suddenly with how fervent he is in his need to assure you. "I would never have let you drive it if it was dangerous." He averts his eyes before looking back at you with humor sparkling in them. "Now did I want it to make a harmless loud noise so suspicious you had to come back in? Yes."

"Shame on you," you cry out without any malice behind the words at all. In fact, you're laughing and leaning down to kiss him again. Your eagerness causes you to rock up against him and before long, the two of you are back at it hot and heavy.

"Hey," Eddie says, attempting to pull back after a while. You, however, are the one to blaze a trail of kisses down his neck this time. He sucks in a breath and continues. "Hey. I get off in about a half an hour."

"Don't want to wait that long for you to get off. Want it to happen right now," you whisper in his ear before sucking his ear lobe into your mouth. Eddie's eyes roll so far back into his head at the action and the innuendo and you feel his hard cock positively jump against you.

"Can't do this while I'm working, baby," Eddie groans, though his hands actively contradict his words by gripping your hips and encouraging them to continue moving against him.

"Isn't my car the last one for the day?" you ask innocently. As if you aren't grinding your clothed pussy all over his erection out in the open in his place of business with the garage door open and the sun still out. "And you did such a good job fixing it."

"Holy fuck..." Eddie breathes. He had been the confident one. He had been the forward one. He's not sure when the dynamic shifted but dear fucking god he's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He does still try his best to at least attempt to be a gentleman, though.

"But I'll get you all dirty. Don't wanna ruin your pretty clothes." Eddie says this while biting his lip and sliding his hands down to squeeze at your ass. It makes you gasp and push down against him even harder, exactly as he'd hoped.

"I don't believe you," you breathe. Eddie captures your mouth in another kiss before shaking his head, distracted.

"What don't you believe?"

"I don't believe that you don't want to ruin my clothes. I think you want to get me all dirty," you challenge. Eddie lifts his hand to your face and holds your chin suddenly between his thumb and index finger, staring deeply into your eyes.

"You're a tease and I love it, sweetheart," he says with a chuckle that makes you preen. "But I need to know...what do you actually want right now?"

"You," you say, not even skipping a beat. Eddie's eyes become serious.

"How...how much of me are we talkin'?"

"All of it," you say, your grin spreading.

"Mother of fucking Christ," Eddie grits out before holding onto you tight and pushing off with his feet, rolling the two of you further behind his work bench, effectively shielding you from the outside world. You squeal at the sudden motion and cling to him, so he uses that to his advantage, attaching his lips to your pulse point. One particularly generous suck to your juggular has you keening and bucking down against him, much to his insane pleasure.

"Oh god. Eddie," you gasp. Eddie closes his eyes and furrows his brow.

"Yeah. Say my name again. Please." He attempts to soften the command with the nicety but you would have screamed his name for much less. You sit up more fully in his lap and help him untie the knotted arms of his coveralls, unzipping the last part of them and exposing the tented front of his boxers. He'd felt huge but he looks even bigger.

"Eddie," you whisper, making eye contact before rubbing your hand over his clothed length. His brow furrows even deeper and you could laugh but you don't. Just like you don't continue to tease him because you're teased out yourself. You need him inside you, like, yesterday. So you pull his boxers down and ogle the length and width of him. Everything you could want him to be.

"Can you...you wanna even the playing field here, sweetheart?" Eddie asks with a silly grin that knocks the wind out of you. You nod without even stopping to get too self conscious, swiftly unbuttoning your blouse and letting the two sides hang open, revealing your bra-clad breasts. Eddie groans like he'd been punched.

"You're a fucking goddess, are you fucking kidding me?" he says, as if you've personally offended him. You chuckle at that.

"I think the exhaust fumes in here have messed with your brain, Munson."

Eddie simply snaps the front clasp of your bra, releasing your breasts to that they fall out with a bounce. Eddie moans like a wounded animal.

"Exhaust fumes my ass. You are unbelievable." His hands immediately close around you, squeezing and weighing. "These tits are magnificent."

You scoff at his word choice.

"You're ridiculous," you try to dismiss him, but his fingers playing with your nipple makes it hard to concentrate on any emotion other than lust. You begin gyrating your hips in search of friction, the hood of your mound pressing up against his erection and creating much needed pressure, even through your clothes.

"No, you're ridiculous trying to pretend like you can wait for this dick," Eddie mocks you, noticing exactly what you're doing. You look at him, biting on the inside of your cheek.

"As if you aren't the one making me wait," you toss back. Eddie's eyebrows raise in a challenge.

"You're the one on top, princess."

You huff and immediately lift yourself up, dropping back down over him so that your skirt obscures his view. But Eddie doesn't need to see in order to feel the tightness of you lowering yourself down onto him.

"Holy fucking - ,"

"Shit!" you interrupt him with your own cry. While you're certainly turned on, it was absolutely absurd for you to try and fit him in without any preparation. Eddie is bigger than anyone you've been with before and he's instantly deeper than you knew was possible, thanks to gravity.

"Fuck, that too much, baby?" Eddie asks, immediately alert and clutching your hips, attempting to keep you balanced above him before your pelvises can meet fully. Fuuuck, he's not even all the way in!

"J-just.....oh god. You're just really big," you whimper. Eddie makes to pull you off him but you dig your fingernails into his arms. "No don't want to get off just - ah. I need a minute. Need to...oh."

You're entire body begins trembling when Eddie's finger begins rubbing circles into your clit. You shudder and then feel yourself sink down a little further on his cock. The attention to your sensitive clit has your thighs widening, your muscles relaxing and your pussy becoming wetter by the second.

"Relax. Mmmm there it is, good girl."

His words practically do more than the finger on your clit and you arch into him, rocking against him shallowly.

After another few minutes of these ministrations, you finally feel yourself growing impatient and increasingly turned on. Experimentally you lift up with your thigh, rising till only his tip is inside you, before sinking back down slowly. Your breath is punched out of you with a hiss, but another moment passes and soon you're able to do it again, faster this time. Eventually you work yourself up to a rhythm, bouncing yourself up and down his cock while his face screws up and his fingers dig into your thighs.

"Wanted this for a long time, princess," Eddie grunts out. "Every time you came in I imagined bending you over that hunk of junk you call a car and fucking you till you couldn't walk."

You gasp at his dirty admission and, feeling emboldened by his honesty, decide to be honest yourself.

"I always wanted you to take me in the backseat and fuck me," you whine. Eddie bucks up into you, the drastic motion causing you to both shift back and forth due to the rocking of the roller you're still precariously perched on.

"We're doing this again, you know," Eddie says matter-of-factly. You must look confused by his words because he continues on fervently. "I may have pictured you with this car, but I'm fucking you in a bed next time," he insists. "Okay maybe a kitchen counter if we can't make it to the bedroom, but either way you deserve a room with a closed door."

You laugh at his words, clenching internally and causing him to moan in the process. You're quickly brought back from humor to urgency when you feel his finger on your clit again.

"Yeah. Yeah we're doing this again," you practically hiccup.

Eddie pulls you down on top of him so that he can lick and nip at your neck, his hand still sandwiched between the two of you.

"Listen to the greedy girl. Already thinking of the next time I'll be inside her."

"You're the one who brought up the subject of a next time!" you accuse, but you lose your bite the second he bites into the side of your throat. He soothes the spot with a lave of his tongue.

"Cum on me, baby, and we can get to that next time sooner."

When you cum, only moments later, your cry echoes throughout the garage. The reverberating sound comes back to your ears and shocks you enough that you almost fall out of your ascending headspace, but Eddie's grunts in your ear and fingers digging into your skin block it all out and keep you grounded to him. This allows you to enjoy your orgasm and even benefit from aftershocks as he takes over and plows up into you, chasing his own release. His haphazard thrusts cause the two of you to roll back and forth on the roller. You cling to him to stay stable with all the movement, and your sudden tensing has you clenching around him so tight he has no time to warn you of his impending orgasm. He just calls out your name and drives his cock deep inside you, spilling out into with sputtering hips.

It takes a while for the proverbial dust to settle. Eddie's hand on your back is soothing, but you quickly realize that your thighs are over extended and your body aches from the strenuousness of your sexual activity.

"Easy there, princess," Eddie coos. He helps you up, his cock sliding out of you with the movement. Like a gentleman he slides your panties back over your dripping slit, patting the wet spot fondly, before dropping the hem of your skirt and shifting to guide you up.

You wobble on embarrassingly unstable legs.

"Jesus christ, what did you do to me?" you huff. Eddie encircles you in his arms and lets out a bark of a laugh.

"What did I do?! How is it that you never fully realized that you were on top?" he asks, echoing his previous sentiments. You help him pull his coveralls up to tie at his waist again and he graciously helps button you back into your blouse.

"Well next time I want you to do all the work," you respond cheekily. Eddie's eyes spring back to yours and for a moment you hesitate, wondering if his earlier words were simply born of the heat of the moment. But Eddie's looking at you like you hung the fucking mood and suddenly he's kissing you. Bold and ardently and with a lot of tongue that says everything he wishes to say to you simply with the press of wet muscle to wet muscle.

When he pulls away his lips are shiny and bruised and you're out of breath. He gives you a lopsided smile and scrunches his nose.

"Next time do I still have to fix your car, or -?"

You slap him on the chest and pull him back in for another kiss.

~*~

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Hoping tumblr doesn't cut off the actual end of the story!

[hoshigray]

Now look here, it's sugardaddy! x sugar baby! reader time >>:3 So here's the rundown: the reader is a college senior who works part-time in a diner and finds out that their favorite customer, Toji, is a sugar daddy and wants to initiate courtship. Although it is a proposition you fail to see yourself saying no to, is this something you can see yourself being in the long run?

A/n: This prompt was picked on a poll to celebrate getting over 50 followers, only for me to get to 100 right after!!?? Y'all...can I give you a hug? ;w; No, oh okay. Anyways, I won't make another poll, BUT I'll be opening thirsts/requests soon!! >:D I just gotta make myself a disclaimer list before we let those lil fantasies of yours fly, lol. But yeah, this is my first time posting a fic over 1k+, so I hope y'all like it. Also, bonus: there's art drawn by Moi (@hoshigaby)?? You'll have to scroll down to find it tho :33 Okay, I'm sorry, go ahead and read!!!

Cw: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - implied age gap (the reader is in their early 20s, Toji's around early or mid-30s) - mating press - cervix fucking - oral (fem! receiving) - pussy drunk Toji - breeding - daddy kink - overstimulation (fem! receiving) - pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin', good girl, honey, kid/kiddo, mama, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - praise - clitoral play (Toji pinches your clit) - reader isn't a virgin but, it's the first time you and Toji have sex.

Wc: 4.9k

"Oh look, your favorite is here."

10 o'clock, it's closing time. All the servers and bussers are ready to buss down tables and sweep the floors, hosts at the front split up tips and head straight home, and the cooks clean the kitchen and throw out the trash. All there's left is the silence of the dining area, where not a single customer is in sight.

Well, minus the one Utahime points out to you.

You turn to the bar area, where almost all the tables are empty, and all the high-rise televisions are turned off. All but for one, which was showing a football game.

A man is watching the screen, sitting in a booth at the far end with a glass of beer on the table. He's wearing a black turtleneck covered with a denim jacket, white fur on the collar, and a silver chain contrasting the black clothing. You gaze downwards to his black jeans pants, where his left foot seems to be tapping the ground. He's waiting for someone.

Once his eyes catch your approaching figure, his deadpanned face shows a smile in recognition. He was waiting for you.

And you smile back as you walk towards him.

The familiarity with this man comes from a year working at the diner. His name is Toji Fushiguro, and he's been a regular even before you started working here. And to make things funnier, he was the first customer you served after a week and a half of training. You can recall when you accidentally put milk and sugar in his specifically requested black coffee, to which you apologized profusely ("Heh, it's alright, darlin'" He flashed a smile that was meant to reassure you. "The first time that's ever happened to me.").

It was there that you found yourself being the only person that's served him. At first, you thought of it as some sort of joke after the coffee mishap, but now, unless you're there to take his order, he'll only have a beer or black coffee with all the other servers. The crew often pokes fun at you, stating you're the older man's favorite. And you gotta admit, it makes your heart swoon knowing this is true.

"There she is," Toji watches you approach him with his foot finally stopped tapping the checkered floor beneath him. "My adorable lil' server."

You giggle as you sit on the cushioned booth seat across from him. "It's good to see you, Mr. Fushiguro. I hope life's been good for you." You wave goodbye to the guy behind the bar counter, who turns off the TV still on as Toji focuses on something else. You promised to be the last person to turn off the lights and lock the doors before leaving, so now it's just you and Toji.

"I thought I told you to drop the Mr. Fushiguro, kid." He reprimands you with his playful smile, the right corner of his lip quirking his scar upward. "And I could ask you the same thing. How's college goin', darlin'?"

An exaggerated sigh leaves your system. "It's going alright. Can't believe I'm about to be done after the next semester, but the senioritis hasn't hit me too strong yet, thank God. And I can't wait to graduate with all this debt on my back~!" You flash the fakest beaming smile with two thumbs up.

Toji chuckles at your fraud enthusiasm. "Mmmm, I bet. But I know you're smarter than me and most people who work for me, so I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"Yeah, I'd like to think so, too." Your chipper attitude dwindles, and Toji notices the change in tone.

"What's up? You don't think you'll get yourself a job?"

"Umm, well," You cough to clear your throat from awkwardness. "I tried signing up for plenty of internships. Some of them shut me down, others just haven't replied back. And I guess it's just me overthinking, but I worry that I won't get a job in something I like..."

"Aww, princess," Toji rises from his cushioned spot to move to your side, sitting close to you with his big jean-covered thigh brushing yours. He places a hand on your back to rub comforting circles. "That's just the thoughts in your head."

You groan into your hands. "I know, that's why I don't know why I'm beating myself up about it so much... But it's okay! I know I'll be fine because I still have this job keeping me going for a year."

Toji raises a brow. "You wanna be a server all your life? Wanna serve me my black coffee and BLT sandwich til my last breath?"

You hit his chest in amusement. "Well, no, but if it comes down to it, I don't mind. I'll just take up more jobs or maybe make a side hustle. Either way, I know Mei Mei will help me out. I'm sure everyone here will if they have the chance."

"I could also help you."

Your hands instantly go up defensively. "No, Mr. Fushiguro, I wouldn't want that! I'm sure you're pretty busy, and I don't want my troubles to burden you."

Toji's eyebrows knit together, his sharp eyes surveying your defensive stance. "It wouldn't be trouble if I'm the one offerin' to help you, honey."

"Yes, but even so..." You look at your lap as your fingers dance with each other to ease your anxiousness. "It would feel unbefitting to have a customer — a valuable one such as you — to help me with my financial problems. Seeing you smile at me when I serve you your coffee...I'm perfectly content with just."

Your gaze locks into your fidgety fingers, saying the last part was probably unnecessary. Yet it was true; Toji had always been patient with you whenever he stopped by, even going the extra mile by giving you a seriously generous tip after his meals. You know you didn't deserve it, but he's already at the door before you can argue with him. If his gracious action was just a mere small percent of what he could do, then he's done plenty for you than needed.

Toji, however, didn't see it that way. He hums as he leans back onto the booth seat, his hand now snaking to the back of your neck, his thumb caressing the nook of your neck and trapezius.

"Well," He breaks the silence, you're listening. "What if we take this outside of customer service?"

The brows are pulled together as you turn to him in slight confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"I've been thinking for quite a while," with his hand maneuvering to rest on your shoulder, he sighs and straightens himself up. "Your manager, Mei Mei, right? I talked with her not too long ago, telling her how much of a hard worker you are and how even while still in school and suffering with assignments, you still smile and make sure the customers enjoy their time here."

You give him a thanks, and he continues on. "Which is why I told her about what I wanna do. So here's my proposition: I'll pay for everything for you. Your debt, bills, clothes, whatever it is your pretty lil' head is worryin' 'bout."

Toji's promise does sound comforting to the ears, but you think about your part in all this. "So, do I have to work for you?"

He chuckles. "No, baby, not working fr' me. But there is something I want you to do."

"Yes?"

Toji doesn't give you a clear answer, staring at your face with a soft smile. You wonder why he's being odd until his face leans forward, and the hand on your shoulder pushes you into a kiss. You let out a yelp into his mouth, but the shock diminishes once you succumb to his warm, intoxicating lips. He tastes like beer, definitely from his drink.

He removes his lips from you, and you faintly exhale in an unsteady breath. "Mmmm, yer too much fr' me, sweetie." Toji groans and kisses down your neck while you place a hand on his chest to grip his turtleneck for support before you dissolve into his arms. And although you shouldn't be at your work at this time of night doing this, it felt too good to end.

"I want you to be with me," Toji says in-between smooches on your neck, moving to paint the other side with his pecks. "You're so good to me, darlin', always being such a good girl." He nibbles on your clavicle, and a soft gasp rewards his eardrums. "Lemme take care of you, y/n."

All that's going through your head is the feeling of his lips on your body and the arousing throbbing sense happening in your nether core.

"Hmm, whaddya say, baby?" His lips are too close to your ear as he playfully bites the lobe. Your thighs rub against one another, and you know there's a wet spot in your panties. "Gonna be my perfect girl?"

If you don't give him an answer quick, you're bound to melt right on this seat, and being a whimpering mess to his touch is embarrassing enough.

"Haaaah...Y-yes," You finally answer in weak whispers, mind spinning and eyes glossy. "I wanna—Ahaaa...I wanna be yours."

You can feel Toji's lips curl into a smile. He lifts his head to look at you, and a hand comes up to cup your face before he gives you a soft kiss on your quivering lips.

"My good girl."

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A few months have passed since you and Toji formed this new relationship. And getting used to certain things is still a challenge.

For one: covering up your new lifestyle is never easy when you're out with people you know. During winter break, you went to dinner with your friends and offered to pay for the whole table. They looked at you as if you were talking nonsense ("Girl, where the hell you get that kind of money to be covering for all of us?" "For real, is this the same diner you've been working at? Are they hiring?").

Another thing that wasn't easy to get accustomed to was Toji spoiling you. Since you're a college student, Toji only sees you every other weekend when he has time. During those days, Toji doesn't hold back in showering you with gifts and affection. Between the fancy dates in expensive restaurants, riding rides at fun amusement parks, or the bags of new clothes you bring back to your dorm, it was something you didn't expect to happen so quickly. Your roommates constantly tease you about this "mystery man" who makes it known you're his special lady.

But outside of that, the most significant change was you and Toji. To say you two got closer was too easy to put into words. Sure, the money was there, so you could finally get a good night's rest without worrying too much about your school debt or bills. However, you knew this went beyond the dollar bills and the fancy clothes.

Come to find out, Toji knows and remembers things that amaze you. There was a time he bought you a whole wardrobe worth of dresses because he remembered you had to cancel dates with your friends since you had nothing cute to wear. Or the time he got you a box of your favorite teas, even though you briefly mentioned them to him during a talk way back from recollection.

And even away from the materialistic things, you can feel how much Toji loves you. You can feel it in his eyes whenever he's looking at you. You can feel it when you try to argue yourself out of trying an outfit you don't think will be good on you, but Toji coaxes you into it because he knows — not thinks, knows you'll look good wearing it. You can feel it in his hands when they hold yours, when he places a hand on your thigh and rubs it in loving warmth, or when he caresses your cheek when he kisses you goodbye when you two have to return to your own lives.

It's a type of love you didn't see yourself being on the other end of. The more immersed you are, the harder it is to imagine yourself out of it.

Spring break is now upon us, and Toji has invited you to join him overseas for a business trip. You tried to decline, saying it's his trip and you don't want to intrude on his business. That argument was immediately shut down ("Tch, believe me, sweetheart, you're saving me from bashing someone's head in if you're close to me than not. Plus, I wanna see you wear that cute swimsuit I got you."), so he dragged you on his private jet, and now we're here.

During the day is when he's away for work, so you spend the morning either in the penthouse suite you two are staying in, outside taking pictures to show Toji later or looking around at the little shops nearby. Toji is done with work around the early afternoon, so you two spend time together exploring the country, trying new foods, and taking walks around the area while talking about how your day went until the sun goes down.

Everything goes well until Thursday when Toji texts you saying something happened at work and that he'd be at the suite later than usual. Well, it's 7:45, the sun is starting to go down, and Toji is still nowhere in sight. I hope everything is alright on his end.

You're unsure about going outside for a walk on the off-chance you stay out too late. And if something happens to you while Toji isn't close by, that'll give him more to worry about on his plate, and you definitely don't want that for him.

So, you look around the penthouse to see if there's anything to keep you occupied until Toji's return, and then what catches your eye is the swimming pool outside on the terrace which you haven't tried yet. That'll do!

You go to change into a swimsuit, a cute two-piece that Toji bought for you when you two went shopping together. After a quick shower, you enter the pool and enjoy the calm waters while watching the sunset, leaving a beautiful array of colors painting the sky over you.

Tomorrow is your last day here while Toji will do business, and then you're back to school on Monday. The fact that you'll be graduating debt free still blows your mind. Toji really fulfilled his promise and took care of your worries.

Is that to say that your relationship ends once you touch that diploma?

You lift your feet and lay on your back to allow the water to hold you up, ears covered in the water and face looking into the sky as you're lost in your thoughts.

It wouldn't be too far off if Toji wanted to close this whole thing off when you graduate, as the point was for you to not worry about debt and such. That much you understood from the very beginning. But what happens after that? Do you two just go back to being acquaintances that only meet at the diner? And what about the stuff he got you? Do they stay with you forever? And do you have to fight memories of him every time you see them?

What about all the touches, all the hand-holding, all the cuddles, and all the kisses? Are they supposed to mean nothing to you the next time you see his face?

You're thankful for the water keeping you afloat in the pool, but having these thoughts attack your brain just makes you want to sink in loathing.

Until you feel something tickle your feet, having your body react in a state of panic. No longer floating on your back, you search for whatever is torturing your feet. Only to find Toji in front of you wearing black trunks, he chuckles lowly, and your heart sinks in embarrassment.

"T-Toji," You swim up to greet him. "How long were you back from work?"

"For about 10 minutes," He watches you move through the water, following you to sit in the shallow part of the pool for you two to talk. "I saw you in the pool and thought I'd join. I tried callin' out to ya, but the water was blocking your ears."

"Hehe, sorry about that. I was thinking about something. How was work?"

His face went into a deep scowl with rolled eyes, and you giggle at his nonverbal response. "Had I not known I was comin' back here to see you, I'd probably fucked that rookie up."

"That bad?"

He hums and brings you closer to him with his hand on your shoulder. "But don't worry 'bout it. And you? What were you thinking about?"

"Hmm? Oh, it was nothing," your encouraging response is fictitious.

Toji lowers a brow. "Try again."

"No, honest! It was nothing, Toji."

"Don't make me tickle you again, kiddo." You freeze and look at his face. His sharp gaze and slight grin speak for themselves about his seriousness.

A sigh is withdraw from your lips. "I was just thinking about how I'd be leaving on Saturday and being halfway done with my senior year of college."

"And?"

"And, uhh," You gulp and avert your eyes to your lap, your fingers swaying with the pool water. "I was also thinking about me... and you?"

There's silence, the lack of response eating you alive. Then you feel Toji's hand grip your shoulder.

"Are you scared I won't be with you after you graduate?"

He hit the nail because you don't answer for a few seconds. Your eyes still avoid him.

But Toji still persists. "Do you not want to be with me?"

Your head turns to face him in haste, taking you aback at how fast you were. "No! I don't want this to end. I'm grateful for how close you and I have become. I want... I want..." You fall silent once more as your head moves back to your lap as if you'd find the words you want to express lying there.

Using his free hand, Toji grabs your chin to look his way again. "What do you want, baby? Use your words fr' me."

The intense gaze of his jade-green eyes captures your attention, practically daring you to look away from him. The warmth of your cheeks spreads around your face, and you gulp before answering.

"I really appreciate all that you've done for me. And I...I really like you, Toji. I want to be with you." His face doesn't change as you ramble on, causing you to move your eyes to avoid the awkward stare. "But I wouldn't blame you if you want to stop with where we—"

Your sentence was interrupted by Toji's kiss, and a squeak was suppressed between the two lips. You exhale in bliss as your hands find purchase on his solid chest. He deepens the kiss when his hand is posted at the back of your neck.

You break the kiss to breathe, Toji's gruff chuckles fills the warm air.

"You're too adorable, princess. Do you really think I'd want to let my precious girl away from my sight?" You open your mouth to interject, but Toji lifts your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each knuckle. "Listen here, darlin'. I didn't offer to take care of your debt on a whim. I adore the fuckin' shit out of you, and I was gonna wait til your graduation to ask if you'd still want this thing to be official."

"But now that I hear you're interested," his big hand holds yours, fingers intertwined as his thumb brushes your forefinger. "Are ya up for it?"

You breathe slowly to ease your heart, beating at an irregular tempo. You grip his hand in return and offer a sheepish smile.

"Yes. I'd like that very much, Toji."

He smirks and kisses your cheek. "Good girl." Toji has his arms placed behind your back and under your legs. Then he stands up while picking up your figure bridal style. He grins hard when you squeal in surprise as your arms sling around his neck.

"Let's shower," he walks out of the pool and into the suite. "And then afterward, I'll show you how much I've been itchin' to make you be my girl for real."

The heat on your face grows tenfold, and Toji barks a laugh when you hide your face. You can only mentally pray for yourself for what's to come.

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That little prayer did absolutely nothing!

Now you're lying on the bed nude and wet from the shower as the water droplets on your body slide down to the satin sheets beneath you. Your hands cover your mouth, trying to suppress the moans and sobs from exiting your lips.

And the cause of this is the man currently nestled between your legs. You can see the raven hair between your inner thighs, but you feel a wet muscle lapping around your vulva. The lewd noises of Toji eating you out fill the room and has you writhing in discomfort, and you try to slowly move your lower region away from his ravaging mouth.

"Aht aht, you're not goin' anywhere, mama." Toji's rough hands grip your waist and pull you back down, his nose brushing your clit as you jerk upwards. He lifts his head to look at you, and the image of your slick smeared all over his mouth and chin almost makes you faint.

"Put those hands down, baby. Let Daddy hear that sweet voice of yours." He uses one hand to play with your pussy, middle and forefinger abuse your inner lips as his thumb grinds down on your sweet bud. Your eyes shoot up for the stars, and you're forced to do what he says, hands gripping the sheets while your cries are out for him to hear.

"Aahhhh!! Haaah, T-Toji!! 'S too much, too—Ooohh!" His tongue returns between your cunt, licking and tasting the sticky fluid coating your pussy. Your eyes are watering, your mind starts to feel dizzy, and your legs can't stay still to save your life. He's been doing this for 15 minutes!!

You clutch his hair and wail out his name in pleasure, earning a moan from Toji as his grip on your thighs gets tighter.

He can tell you're close to finishing, so he helps you. His tongue slides from your wet center to your clitoris, licking and sucking on the extremely sensitive bud, his teeth lightly pressing down on the pearl.

Your release comes instantly, and your walls spasm as you cry in pure euphoria. Your head pushed deep into the pillow below you, letting your body finish reacting to the climax. However, Toji doesn't wait for you when his mouth drinks your essence. His tongue attacked your sore velvety walls, having you gasp for air.

When he's done, he finally withdraws from between your legs and kneels before you, taking in your disheveled figure. Your tear-stricken face and hooded eyes peer up at him as he wipes his face of your excess come, licking the rest from the back of his hand.

Toji snickers hoarsely. "Sorry, sweetheart, you tasted so fuckin' good I couldn't help myself. Besides," you watch his hands trail down to his dick as he places himself on your messy vagina. "Gotta get you prepped up fr' me."

He puts a pillow under your lower back to raise your hips more. Seeing his dick for the first time has you in mental turmoil. Toji notices you looking and sneers, pulling your hips to him so his balls practically kiss your opening, his dick on full display on your lower abdomen. The girth alone has your cunt pulsating in anticipation, and good God, the length of that thing. It's not the first dick you've seen in your life, but it's definitely the biggest challenge you've come across.

I hope those 15 minutes of prep were enough.

You come back to your senses when you feel the tip of his hefty member circling the corners of your folds, and your slick aids him as a lubricant.

"Ready, babygirl?" You exhale a nervous breath and nod for confirmation. "Okay, we're gonna start real slow."

Toji began to push the tip in, your folds being spread open to accommodate the foreign object intruding into your tight hole. You close your eyes and hold your breath, the pain worsening by the second. You take one breath, and Toji pushes further. With another breath, he goes further. Another-

A giant gasp takes over you as the tip of Toji's cock enters you. And Toji takes his time pushing himself further into you, using every fiber of his being not to rut into your tight walls off the jump.

"Haaah, hmmm, oh fuck," That's easier said than done with you gripping onto him like your life depended on it. Once he's pushed his whole cock into you, your words come out as a babbling mess, gripping his arms for support. He looks down at your disarranged self, chuckling at such a wonderful sight. "You look really fuckin' sexy layin' under me, baby."

"God...Toji," Tears stream down your cheeks, wincing at the pain down south. "'S too muuu-ch, too big for—Hnnngh!!" A sudden thrust of the hips has you biting down on your bottom lip.

"C'mon now, I thought I told you about that. I already let it slide once or twice." Toji places your legs on his shoulders and leans close to you, his body weight adding onto yours as the base of his cock grinds into your sex. "What's my new name, mama?"

"Ah!! I'm sorry, Daddy." The title comes through sobs.

Toji grins from ear to ear, wiping your tears with his calloused fingers. "Good girl," he kisses your forehead as you adjust to his girthy length. "So fuckin' pretty fr' Daddy." He takes your lips with his soft ones before moving his hips in a slow yet rough rhythm.

The mating press has your body submit to him, taking in his cock as it sinks deep into your swollen core. And it only gets worse when his pace gets faster, hitting your sweet spots accurately. At this rate, you're bound to cum earlier than necessary.

Then you feel his tip abruptly touch your cervix, and the wail you let out is picked up by Toji's ears. "Oh? Think I found what I was lookin' for." His hips grind deep in you, his tip abusing your poor cervix to the point you speak in tongues. "Feelin' good, princess?"

"Fuck, Daddyyyy, please, I'm-Ahaaah, Ohhh!" His irrational pace has your brain turning to mush, his cock bullying your insides. The sound of his balls slapping against your squelching folds has you squeezing him harder. "I'm gonna cu-cumm!!"

Toji hisses into your ear, the tone of his voice dominating your senses. "Oooooh, don't grip on me like that, sweetie. Gonna end up — Mmmph! Shit, shit, shit, shit...Gonna give you a baby."

You reach to cup his face through watery eyes glazed in a haze. "Please, Daddy, I want it," You know you're talking nonsense, but why care when you're feeling this fucking good. "Inside, I want it, inside!"

"Heh, be careful with what you wish for, mama." He kisses you again as his hips become erratic, and he moves a hand to your clit and pinches it, whining into your mouth when you're cunt clutches onto him one final time.

You cum around his cock and push your head back on the pillows, your gushy walls spasming around his length, prompting Toji to cum inside you after a few more thrusts. You two moan into each other's mouths, riding each other's high until your bodies calm down.

The two of you pant heavily once the kiss is broken apart, and his deep emerald orbs take in your dazed expression. He smiles when he notices drool on the side of your mouth, using a thumb to wipe it off for you.

"My sweet darlin'," Toji kisses your cheek and sighs deeply into your embrace. "You're too good fr' me, baby."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

"Did I say that I want your babies?"

You're resting with Toji, your head relaxed on his chest as you sit between his legs. The television in the bedroom plays an episode of a sitcom, anything for you two to look at and enjoy a moment of peace together.

He snickers at your question, his chest rising and falling as you lay on him feels nice. "Yeah, you kinda did."

"Wow, that sex must've screwed something up in my head."

"Yeah, my dick had you wanting to risk it all." He snorts when you playfully hit his arm. "Don't worry, we can find some plan b in the morning."

Turning to face Toji, still watching TV, you furrow your brows. "We? What about work?"

"I have tomorrow off. It's your last day, and I don't feel like going back to work, or else I'll be sour all fuckin day. Much rather spend it with you than with some morons."

You look at Toji for a little longer before you smile and kiss his cheek, catching the older man off guard as you nestle into his warm body. "Thank you, Toji. For everything."

The thanks carry a deeper meaning. Not a single ounce of doubt clouds your mind now that you've gotten the closure you wanted. Thinking about how your life brought you to this moment, you're happy with your decision to pursue this relationship and more. And it's thanks to this man for making it possible.

Toji still stares at you before he scoffs and kisses your temple.

"No problem, kiddo."

[bi-writes]

bff!roommate!simon comes home from deployment. it is the first time that either of you feel the distance thousands of miles can bring.

more bff!roommate!simon (part 10/?)

word count: 3.4k

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, aNgSt, mean!simon, mentions of simon's canon trauma, military service criticism, pet names (luv, kitty), vague smut (18+) ⚠️🔞

large blocks of italicized text are flashbacks.

she hasn't called.

it was something that simon realized only a week in. normally, he spent his evenings sheltered in his room, his earbuds in, your voice on the other end. even if he didn't talk, you spoke. normally, you would tell him about your day; about the customer that gave you a hefty tip, the kids that left the tables a sticky mess, the meal you made that you think he would like. simon listened, and he would close his eyes and let the lull of your voice put him to sleep. sometimes, it was the next best thing to get him rest; it was impossible to know the comfort of you in your bed across from him when he was so far away.

more recently, those calls had become something else. you would still tell him the same stories, but sometimes your voice would drop a few degrees lower, and you would ask him if he was thinking about you--about all of you. and there simon would be, a pathetic, choking mess as he fucked himself to soft sound of your voice on the other end--so good, simon, miss you so much, need you, need you--can't wait for you to come home, n-need to feel you--

but it was quiet now. there was no one calling him, no one leaving him texts that he couldn't wait to read in the morning. his phone was silent; but the thoughts in his head were not.

the inevitable loneliness faded to anger after the weeks apart; his sergeants were quick to learn to stay out of his way. there was to be no conversation, no jokes, no playful banter before and after their ops. there was complete silence, because if they spoke about anything other then their direct objective, simon was an unleashed dog, and no one wanted to be on the spitting end of his berating.

he thought about you even when he wasn't supposed to. when he was supposed to be focused, when he was supposed to have his eyes on the target, sweeping the horizon--you were there, behind his eyes. remembering the look on your face before he had left.

the gloss of your eyes. the tears that collected at the edges. the drawing in of your knees to your chest, the tremble of your pouty lip. the stain that he was leaving on you--he didn't even have it in him to turn around and tell you that he was sorry.

he was sorry. the things you asked for weren't unreasonable--you wanted answers. you wanted him to tell you what this was, what this would be. it wasn't enough anymore to pretend this wasn't real. the reality was that there was no one else--and his eyes had yet to go anywhere else since the first moment he tasted your sweet cunt. he knew, deep down, that this possessiveness had started long before that--when you were just kids, holding onto each other for some kind of comfort away from what waited for you at home.

you cradled his head in your lap. a damp towel was in one hand, the other holding his trembling face to your chest. when you pulled the towel back, you flinched at the sight of blood.

"simon? y-you...y-you wanna talk about it?"

all he could was shake his head. you picked him up, sitting him back gently against the bench, and you used the towel to wipe at the blood drying under his nose. his eyes were red with the tears he wanted to cry, but he held them back, swallowing them down.

you leaned in, looking down as you rested your forehead against his.

"what was it this time? was it tommy?"

when he just shrugged, you reached down, smoothing your hand over his. his hands were smooth, soft--they had not seen the other side yet.

"n-no one's gonna be at my place," you whispered. "why don't you stay tonight?"

you ate instant noodles on the roof that evening, your head leaning on his shoulder as you both looked out into the dreary city. there were dark clouds overhead, and you knew it would rain tomorrow. fitting, and you hoped then that it might wash away the pain of yesterday.

it was the first night that simon was encased by silence. on his back beside you on your twin bed, staring up at the ceiling as he thought about how he might explain the bruises on his face when he went to his classes the next day--about what he might say this time.

when he turned his head, there you were. eyes closed, face pressed into your pillow as you breathed gently. real. alive. here. some kind of respite that he didn't think he deserved.

the papers he had taken were burning a hole in his desk at home--just waiting for his signature. it was time to take control. to take his life back. that was the only way that he could keep this, whatever it was--this was the only way that he could protect you. protect himself. protect tommy, his mother, his sanity.

the only thing he prayed for that night was that you would forgive him when he left you behind.

you had always been his. you belonged to him. and he could keep pushing you away, but it wouldn't erase the fact that he lived in your bones and you under his skin, and whatever this was meant forever.

and simon wouldn't fucking die--no matter how hard they tried--and he needed to fix this.

but he was angry. and half of him came from something else. something not real. something sour. something that bled dark, not red but black, poison. sometimes he could feel that half of him right under his tongue. he could taste it, the sour and rot that part of him was made of, and he could feel it multiplying under his skin like mold.

he would never be rid of this kind. he couldn't throw away half of himself without losing all of himself; and normally, simon could swallow this down, keep it underneath, but fuck, it's coming, going to be fuckin' sick, it's coming--

when he saw her, he just took her. glaring at her under a dark mask didn't deter her, and when she kept pushing, he let her. he let her follow him home, let her through the threshold of a space that had only ever belonged to someone else.

he let her in. he let her in. he let her in.

she didn't taste like you. she was too loud. her voice was too shrill, moans that made him flinch rather than relax. between her thighs, it wasn't the same--it wasn't warm like it was with you. she was wet, dripping actually, but she smelled like something else. foreign. poison.

her eyes were too wet, too harsh, a glare there that didn't belong. this was wrong, it felt wrong, but he was so angry, and he needed something to bite. maybe something to tear about, he wasn't exactly sure, but as soon as he had her here, under him, knees pressed to her chest as she let him fuck her senseless, he realized that it was painful.

there was a disconnect between what was real and what was not. it was so real with you, and now he just felt so far away from himself. he felt like someone else. and he thought, he really thought, that the other half of him was so fucking real that it would come easy.

to hurt. to inflict pain. to growl and claw and take and eat, shouldn't this be easy? pain was in his genes, it was a part of him. trauma ran in his blood and into his veins, and when his heart pumped, it trickled into every soft place that lived and breathed inside of him.

isn't it? isn't this a part of me? why does it hurt? why doesn't it feel good? why is it worse, why does this hurt, why can't i breathe--

the front door shut behind you. you let out a shaky sigh, shrugging off your jacket and putting your bag down. you tossed everything onto the kitchen table, and just as you went to put your shoes away by the door, you noticed something out of place.

simon's boots were haphazardly tossed beside the shoe bench, laces hurriedly untied, one boot fallen onto its side. strange, and it stood out to you because simon wasn't someone who didn't put things away where they should be. he was adamant about this practice. but the strangest thing was the pair of shoes thrown beside them--heeled suede boots, with a pointed toe.

but they didn't belong to you.

you froze, your lips parting when you heard the shuffle of noise behind a closed door. you stepped backwards in the foyer, your back hitting the wall, and you put your hand over your stomach, suddenly feeling like heaving.

simon had come home; and there was someone else here with him.

your entire body suddenly felt hot, on fire. you looked towards the window, the one that faced the street, and when your vision went blurry, you realized there were tears coming down your face. the heat must've been your falling heart--it was dropping, fast, sliding down your chest and into your stomach, and it was like the acid there was crawling right back up your throat. you couldn't see anymore, warm tears wetting your cheeks and gathering in your mouth and staining your jaw and your neck.

simon had come home--and there was someone else here with him.

it had felt so real. hadn't it been real? wasn't this real? wasn't he real? weren't you real? this was real--it was fucking real.

right?

you hurried. you went right for your bedroom, shoving the door open, and you frantically went for your closet, pushing it open and scrambling for one of your bags. you tossed items off the shelves, blind through your tears, and as you grabbed one that hid behind a box of your memories, the lid popped off of it, its contents spilling onto the floor. you stepped over polaroid pictures, over moments captured in time, and you couldn't focus on them because you were blind--the tears just wouldn't stop, they won't stop, please stop.

you tossed the bag onto the bed, ripping the zipper open, and you flung the drawers open, just scooping handfuls of your clothes into the bag. whatever would fit--anything you could pick up until the bag was full, until you could barely force the zipper closed and swing the bag over your shoulder. you looked around the room frantically, looking for any essentials you might need, and you froze when you heard voices outside your door, the padding of more than one pair of feet. simon's footsteps were easy to point out, but then there was a lighter pair, a voice a little high-pitched wafting after his own.

suddenly, the idea of running away, of crying--it felt so stupid. he wasn't your boyfriend. he wasn't your lover, not your significant other, there was nothing that tied you together. the string you always thought that connected you wasn't that at all; simon had you on a leash, and you just hadn't realized he just let go.

he leaves me behind. he always leaves me behind.

there was nothing in those dark eyes that belonged to you. there was nothing here in this apartment that told you otherwise. separate rooms, separate things--you were just two people that lived in the same place, so what if he eats my cunt and puts his fingers inside of me and calls me a good girl? he's not mine, not mine, he doesn't belong to me.

and the only thing worse than the truth of it was that you belonged to him. and he had ruined you for anyone else.

the door swung open. you stopped moving, your hands shaking as you turned towards the sound of it. you knew how it looked--the bag over your shoulder, a few cherished knickknacks cradled in the other arm. the red in your eyes, the tears on your face--the rawness of your sadness so exposed and so there, right in his face, right where he could see you.

he was dressed down, sweats pulled on haphazard, a wrinkled shirt pulled on so hastily that he hadn't realized it was inside-out. and that fucking mask, crooked and damp on his sweaty face. he was gripping your doorknob tight in one fist, his knuckles white from how hard he held it.

"oi," he looked around your room. disheveled, messier than usual. ransacked drawers from your frantic packing, items knocked over as you searched for your precious possessions. "wot's this?"

you swallowed.

"i'm...i'm going on...on a trip. i..." you tried to laugh through your tears, "i thought i told you. i-i must've forgot."

"'cause i just got home," he muttered, stepping into your room. you stepped back at that. simon had been in your room before, of course he had. but something wasn't the same. something was different, and now instead of feeling like every corner of your apartment was safe, it felt like he was invading this place. he was too big, the room was too small, the distance between you was too short. you were suffocating. you couldn't breathe. and when he reached over and snatched the bag off your shoulder, you flinched.

when simon met his own eyes in the mirror, he nearly choked. he didn't recognize himself. the eyes that stared back at him didn't belong to him. not simon, not ghost, not the someone he pretended to be--no. no, no, no--that isn't me--i'm not like him--not him, not him, not him, anything but him.

he dropped your bag, holding out his hand suddenly. he was careful, slow, as if he might startle you, and you stepped back again, shaking your head.

"kitty--"

"don't!" you cried, and the yell of your own voice startled you, so much that you put a shaking hand over your mouth. you looked away from him. "d-don't call me that."

and just like that, he felt it. the spool of thread, cut. the line connecting you--severed. the apartment you had made a home, the sacred door that you hadn't opened to anyone, fuck, it was gone so quick. the years of trust, the undeniable bond, just gone, it was gone, how the fuck was that possible?

had it really been that easy? had this thing between you that had been so real been so fucking delicate?

your hands were shaking. trembling, and it was hard to read the papers that you held, and it was even harder to read them when the tears you shed was making the ink bleed.

your bedroom door creaked, and you looked up. simon ran an uneasy hand through his hair when he realized what you were holding. his signature so clear at the bottom, and all he had to do was walk back into the recruiting office. he didn't want to take anything with him--he didn't have any possessions, nothing he needed to pack away.

nothing he needed to pack away. nothing he needed to pack away. nothing he needed to pack away, nothing, nothing, nothing.

"when were you going to tell me?" you asked, but it was more of a strained whisper. you let the papers slip back into their place, and when you met his eyes, he was sympathetic, but you knew that look. you weren't going to change his mind about this. it was all made up.

"i...i-i hadn't thought about it. i...no, i just...i don't know."

he swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck. he was uncomfortable, but he came closer, settling onto the ground beside you, sitting just next to you.

"when...when are you leaving?"

a beat. and then, "in a few days."

you looked down at your hands, and as you watched them continue to shake, simon reached over, putting his own hand over them and clasping them together, stilling you. just like that, so easy--how much power did he hold over you?

"b-but...but why?"

"need to do this. not just for me," he murmured. "not just for tommy. not just...for mum. you. have you seen the fuckin' news? haven't you seen what's going on?"

and what about what went on behind your closed doors? his own? simon gets to decide to be hero when the real war is right here, right under his fucking nose?

selfish. he's so selfish. i hate him. i hate him. i hate him.

"so...what?" you breathed. "those...those towers get hit, so that means i-i have to lose something, too?"

he turned to face you, frowning. "don't say that. that isn't...that's not what this is. i need to do something. i can't...i can't just keep watching this happen. it's not right." he squeezed your hand. "i can do something about this. i can help."

you had no idea simon had suddenly become some kind of martyr. that he suddenly felt some kind of obligation to saving the world.

he was your world. weren't you his?

"'m gonna come back," he said softly, but it didn't feel like a promise.

it just felt like goodbye.

he was calling your name, but you pretended not to hear. her boots were gone, but the trace of something unfamiliar still lingered in the air. you grabbed your purse, the keys jingling, and just as you were going to move again, reality hit him.

i'm going to lose her. i'm going to lose her if i don't say something.

"would y'just let me fuckin' say something?!"

the sharpness of his voice stopped you, and you turned to face him, your bottom lip trembling.

"what do you want from me, simon?" you breathed. "what the fuck do you want from me? i-i...i didn't ask for this."

"luv--" he came closer, and you sobbed when he gripped both sides of your head. his fingers tangled in your hair, holding you tight, firm.

solid. grounding.

"it's okay," you shook your head. you smiled through your tears, blinking through them, meeting his eyes. "simon, it's okay...it's...it's my fault..."

"..wot?"

"i wanted more," you whispered. the tears were wetting his hands, and as much as he tried to wipe them away, more kept falling. "i wanted more, and i..." you laughed a little, but there was no humor in it. just sadness, echoing and hollow, just how you felt inside. you lifted a shoulder in a defeated shrug. "it's never been that way."

simon shook his head. "no. kitty, 's not true--"

"you've never fought for this before, simon, don't start begging now," you gasped. "just don't. you leave me behind. that's my fucking fate with you, getting left behind, and i keep thinking you'll change, but you won't--"

"that's not--!"

"you won't change, simon!" you cried, choking on it, and you were so sad, and for something that supposedly wasn't real, it felt like a gaping wound, something splitting apart his skin and crawling from the inside-out. "you...you won't change...but it's okay...s-simon, it's okay..." you tried to smile again. "i've always known. i-i think i've just...i've always known..."

the glass around him shattered when you spoke again.

"i-i've always...i-i...i think i've always been yours," your voice was so soft. it was the pain of accepting a truth you never wanted. "a-and...and you've never been mine."

it wasn't true. that wasn't true. you had no idea what kind of things you held over him. you had no idea the power you had, the kind of things that your touch made him feel. you had no idea how tightly he was bound--he had no room to breathe.

if this wasn't love, if this wasn't the kind of pain that love brought, then what the fuck is this? isn't this real? aren't we real?

but half of simon was poison. and when you left, it was quiet. there was no one to hear him scream. there was no one to take the glass out of his mouth, the shards of them that he swallowed, to watch the black of his blood choke him.

when he looked in the mirror again, he recognized those eyes. he had been too afraid to see them for what they were before, but now he knew who those eyes belonged to, and he thought it would be easier to cut them out than look at his reflection again.

a dream, a nightmare, not reality.

left behind.

always yours. and never mine.

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

02 — THE NIGHT WE MET

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3.

<- previous part | next part ->

Turns out, as much as water is wet, Soap likes to talk.

“Bloody Shadows,” he grunts under his breath. You’d given him your knife, so he could help you take down the men searching the tunnels. Now, after killing one, he’s got a weapon not unlike your own. In one hand, he wipes off the bloody knife on his thigh and slides it into his belt, and in the other, he checks over the stolen gun.

The water soaks your calves, a cloud of blood and a body along with it floating behind you both. Taking another step forward, the water ripples, the weight of it pulling as you continue to move forward, Soap at your flank.

“Your men feckin’ suck at their jobs, lass,” your new companion hisses, low enough not to echo but loud enough to have you rolling your eyes.

“They’re not used to this kind of fighting. It’s not their fault.” You’re not exactly sure why you’re defending them, when you’re decidedly betraying your entire unit, but you feel obligated to anyway.

“Or you’re just a bad Lieutenant.”

You shoot him an annoyed glance. “Wrong. I’m not a Lieutenant, Sergeant.”

You knew of his title because of something Ghost had said earlier, his voice carrying loud enough through the earpiece in the quiet of the shops. It suited him, in a way you couldn’t quite explain, just as the smell of the sea felt like more of a home than any building you’d encountered.

Keeping your head forward, you miss the roll of Soap’s eyes, and the flexing of his hand around the knife at his waist.

“Sorry, Corporal,” he retorts, and you bristle.

“Colonel will do,” you snap back, quickening your pace but keeping your movements quiet as you spot the shadows of your men up ahead. Stretching your hand out, you encourage Soap to pause.

Soap scoffs. “Dinnae think you’re above me.”

You go to continue the petty argument, when –

“Graves has lost his fucking mind over his chick.” A Shadow says around the curved corner, and Soap stops as you do. You see a flash of red, their flashlight, up ahead, and pull Soap’s shirt to stand with you against the wall.

“How much do you bet she’s found out about another girl he’s got goin’ on the side?”

Your chest constricts, and your body feels as though it’s frozen in time. Soap’s hand comes up to remove your grip on his shirt, and you don’t make a single argument or movement against it.

“That, or she’s gone to find another superior to fuck,” the other replies.

Within one moment, and the next, you pull your knife back from the sheath on Soap’s belt, and take a massive, sweeping step to your right.

It’s not a second later that the knife has flung from your fist, and met the neck of one of the gossiping Shadows. Blood spurts out of his neck, and he quickly finds himself falling forwards onto his knees, and then effectively being pulled by the motion of the flood.

“What the –” The other starts, but in one click, you’ve pressed the silencer onto the end of your gun, flicked off the safety and shot a bullet into the back of his head.

Your hands do not tremble. You don’t even make a noise.

Soap does, though, just as the sun is set to rise.

“Christ, lass, that was clean,” he says under his breath, before letting out a low, impressed whistle. “Colonel it is.”

You don’t respond. Instead, you just put your knife back into its rightful spot in your vest, flip on the safety, and continue to wade down the tunnel.

The words of the two Shadows echo in your mind, like your very soul has been hollowed out for the sole purpose of being a cavern of mindless thoughts. You suppose that’s the way of life.

By the time the two of you reach the end juncture of the tunnel, Soap’s killed two more Shadows. You haven’t hurt any since the last few, but it’s a small mercy. You’re not exactly itching to murder your… previous subordinates.

Previous. Past.

Whatever.

“Ghost says the church is just to the right, ‘nd up the stairs,” Soap supplies as the two of you make it to the T-junction. Giving him a small nod, you turn right, finding the said stairs mere metres away.

“It’s going to be rough out there,” you warn with a short glance his way.

He chuckles a humoured sound, surprising you with its warmth. “Aye can handle rough, lass,” he teases, and you’ll forever be grateful for his positive outlook on the situation. Humour was good, when one was going through such… bullshittery.

“What’s the plan after we meet with Ghost?” You ask lowly as you start ascending the brick steps, the dripping of water a debilitating soundtrack. 

Soap is just a few steps behind you, his steps just slightly slower due to his injuries and general stress. “Eh, we’ll see. Ghost has probably got a rough idea already,” he admits. He seems to almost worship Ghost, although in a very different way to how you do – did – with Graves. “Lt for a reason, hen.”

“I’m not a chicken,” you snark back, hand resting at the dagger strapped onto your thigh. It’s a familiar habit.

Soap’s laugh, this time, comes out boisterous and almost shocked. It’s a loud, genuine thing, and you can’t find it in yourself to despise it. 

“Yer funny for a traitor,” he responds, and your stomach hollows out once more.

Traitor.

That single word – title – rings in your ears like the bombs you’ve set off in past missions. Like a tormenting, cruel ghoul, whispering taunts in your ear. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor.

You don’t reply as you make it to the inside of a house, the front door seeming to face exactly where the two of you needed to go. Pausing before it, you look to Soap once more, cocking your gun.

“Ready, Sergeant?” You ask, both for his sake, and your own. Your resolve is weak, trembling, almost, but there’s no going back now. Not after this.

Soap lets out his own exhale, before his deep blue eyes meet yours. “Aye, I’m ready.”

You turn.

And you open the door.

“Jesus fuck!” Soap yells out, and your focus is quickly split between his sudden words, and the hilt of a gun crashing into the side of your head.

Falling to the ground with a groan, a bloom of light taunts you in the corner of your shut eyes, your skull pounding with the sudden pain. Bringing a hand up to the source of your ache, you slowly blink your eyes open, watching as your fingers come away with sticky blood coating them.

“I found her! She’s with –” 

Looking up, your mouth falls open as a bullet lodges itself into the Shadow’s forehead, and he too, falls to the ground.

Except, unlike you, he would never get up again.

“Was that you, Lt?” Soap calls into his own comms, and he sounds nothing if not impressed. Rising to your knees, you manage to find your way back up to your feet, albeit with shaky movements.

Your vision is slightly skewed, and you feel somewhat out of it as you look outside, and spot the darkened streets once more.

Whatever Ghost responds with makes Soap laugh, but all you can focus on is that the church is so close. You guys could make it – no, you would make it.

And you would convince Graves to stop this, and to continue being the man you thought you knew.

You could fix everything.

“All good?” Soap asks you, then, appearing at your side like a trusted dog. You’re all too aware of how you must look – bewildered and bloody.

“What’re we waiting for?” Is your reply.

Turns out, a lot.

By the time the two of you make it to the steps of the church, there’s enough blood on your hands to make you think that it’ll never come off. Both figuratively, and physically.

“Johnny!” 

Breath stilted, head pounding and ears ringing, your weighted gaze sloppily meets that of Simon Riley’s.

You’d never met the guy, never seen him, either. And in person, he’s terrifying in a guttural, instinctual way. All dark-clothed bulk, skull mask dirtied and stark in the eery night. The sniper strapped to his back just adds to his whole image.

“Fuck, Ghost, you’re –” Soap begins, but a bullet just missing his ear has his words silenced.

“We gotta find a way outta here,” Ghost directs, and you nod instinctively. At the movement, his eyes zero-in on your frame – and they narrow. His hands clench around the smaller, more close-range gun in his hands, and his jaw tightens.

Right. You weren’t friends, and you could hardly be called acquaintances.

Enemies, first and foremost.

Swallowing, you flit your gaze back to Soap, inclining your head towards the multitude of vehicles along the street to your left.

“Come on, we’re sitting ducks here. Let’s find a car and go,” you yell over the sound of the harsh pattering of rain, thunder reverberating through your chest. Your eyes maintain a wincing position, hair completely wet and droplets dripping from your face and gear, mascara coating underneath your eyes, and you’re sure, your cheeks.

“The lass is right,” Soap shifts his attention from you to Ghost, “C’mon, Lt.”

Ghost waits another moment, and even with Soap looking at him, his focus remains solely on you. His gaze is hard, cold, full of hatred and distaste.

“Please,” he insists, tone gone pleading and almost desperate.

It’s all Ghost must need, it seems, because he shifts the weight of his gun between his hands once more with a direct nod. 

It’s not a moment later that more bullets are shot at the three of you, causing you to instantly find cover and press your back against it, quickly checking that your weapon is loaded. It is, thank the gods, and you quickly peek around the stall of which you’d used as cover and pop a few shots at some Shadows you see lining the streets. A few drop, and more yelling echoes throughout the town.

“There’s a truck with its lights on up ahead!” Ghost’s voice carries over the cacophony of sounds down the street, and you heave out a shaky breath. Turning just enough that you can search for the vehicle he’s talking about, your heart thumps in your chest as your eyes lock onto it.

You figure that the man must be further along the streets than you, so steeling your nerves, you stand up once more and raise your gun.

Soap and Ghost have already made a dent in the soldiers after the lot of you, but you find yourself lodging bullets into quite a few Shadows’ skulls anyways. To be on the other side like this, to kill your men, it’s a kind of pain you’d never even considered that you’d have to experience.

Your chest rises and falls at a concerning rate as you find the truck just a few feet away from you, Soap’s hand gripping the door to the passenger’s side, and Ghost jumping into the driver’s seat.

With one final pull of the trigger, you push Soap into the car, and rush into it right after him, pulling the door shut with an audible slam!

“Drive!” You quickly direct Ghost, pulling up your gun over the back of the seat and aiming it at the Shadows directing their sights to the three of you. “Before they kill us all!”

Ghost jerks, the glass of his window shattering as a bullet flies through, a searing pain bursting through the top of your right cheek. Cursing under your breath, you pull the trigger of your gun, Soap shooting his own at the same time.

With a burst of the accelerator, the truck goes rearing backwards, and your eyes go wide as you watch Ghost reverse into two Shadows, their bodies churning underneath the wheel.

“Fuckin’ hell, Lt!” Soap cries out, and just as he does, Ghost quickly manoeuvres the vehicle into drive. He’s quick about it, and you flinch as he crashes through the wired gate that had previously blocked off the street, the truck lurching with the movement.

With tight swerves, and a few more bullets shot from your guns, both you and Soap finally loosen your postures as you lose the couple of Shadows left behind.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you exhale a deep, meaningful breath.

“You good, hen?”

Blinking away the blurriness of your vision, you jolt when Soap’s hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing the spot where the pain originates on your cheek. Letting out a small hiss, he immediately pulls away.

“Just a graze, I think,” you bite out, bringing your own shaky fingers to the wound. You can feel where the blood drips from it, along with the blood from your forehead.

“I found some cloth,” Soap pulls out said object, handing you a decently clean strip of tawny fabric. “Will it do?”

With a sharp nod, you take the fabric from his grip, righting yourself to face him properly. Looking down, you unzip one of the compartments on your vest, taking out a small first aid kit.

Soap lets out a low, impressed whistle. “Didn’t realise ye were a medic, lass.”

Despite yourself, and your situation, you can’t help the small tilt of your lips. “I’m a medical professional. Just chose to take lives, rather than save ‘em.”

“Well, ye saved mine today.”

Looking up from where you scavenge through the small kit, your eyes meet his. They’re so blue, and they shine beneath the night lights of Las Almas. Even with his wound, they seem so positive, so joyful and kind.

“And you saved my humanity,” you admit. It’s true, of course – if not for you crashing into him, you had no idea where you’d be right now.

Ghost clears his throat, and you quickly focus back in on your supplies, scurrying through them for the necessary items.

Pulling out a pair of medical scissors, and some cleaning alcohol, you wave for Soap to pull up his sleeve and give you his arm. He does, swearing under his breath as some of the crusted blood pulls away with the fabric of his shirt. His arm is nothing if not muscled, and if it were any other circumstance, any other man, you’d allow yourself a moment to appreciate such pure masculinity.

But this is an enemy, and this is a bullet wound.

“This’ll hurt,” you murmur, checking over the small alcohol bottle in your hand, before looking through the medkit once more. “And you’ve lost a lot of blood. Here.”

Reaching for a small piece of candy, you drop it into his open palm.

His eyes flicker from yours, to the small wrapper in his large hand. He seems to inspect it, for a moment, before his mouth twists into a mocking smirk.

“Sweethearts, aye?”

You roll your eyes, your cheeks burning for reasons other than your wound as you twist off the cap of the bottle in your hands. If you notice Ghost’s attention flit from the road ahead to the two of you, you don’t say a word.

“You need to get your sugars up. It’s not much, but it’s all I have right now,” you explain, refusing to look up at him. “Have one now, this’ll sting.”

He huffs, but undoes the wrapping and pops one of the lollies into his mouth. He hums.

With one hand on his shoulder, you bring up the bottle and drop some of the liquid onto the wound, flushing out any bacteria or infections. Hopefully.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Soap groans out, teeth clenched and jaw straining as his eyes flutter shut.

“Be careful,” Ghost warns, worry and threat bundled into the two words like a second skin. If you were one to be intimidated, you would take the sentiment seriously, but all you can focus on is the obvious care for his companion.

Very odd, indeed.

“How’s the candy?” You ask, grabbing a sterilising wipe and cleaning up around the wound. Luckily, the bullet had exited – there wouldn’t be a need to go digging in there. That also meant that you had to clean the other side of his arm, however.

Soap’s chuckle comes out strained, but it’s better than silence.

“Delicious, sweetheart.”

You pause your movements, briefly, your chest tightening at the mocking endearment.

“Sweetheart?” You repeat back, your tone a question, before you continue to clean his wounds, albeit with more stilted movements.

“The lollies,” Ghost supplies, and you can’t help but think that he either thinks you’re dumb, or just generally despises you.

Maybe both.

…Definitely both.

“Yer jus’ so sweet, lass,” Soap taunts, before letting out a sound akin to a whimper when you swipe the wipe a bit too close to his wound.

“My bad,” your smile is sickeningly sweet, your tone light and innocent.

Soap’s jaw sets, but silence fills the truck as you make sure that the cloth will properly fit around the wound, getting out a safety pin to keep it around his arm.

It takes a few minutes for you to wrap the makeshift gauze around his skin, the groans of pain from him few and far between. Despite everything, you were a good medic. You’d been trained well, and you had the cadence for it.

Usually.

Fastening the clip through the cloth, you fix it up so it looks presentable enough, and successful for its job.

“All done,” you say softly, hesitant to speak up in the silence of the space.

You go to pack up your supplies, before a hand reaches out and wraps around your wrist, stopping your movements.

Flicking your gaze up to Soap’s, you go to open your mouth to say something, but find yourself at a loss for words. Your eyebrows furrow, and he seems to sense your confusion, because –

“Yer wounds,” he blurts out, wincing at the suddenness of his proposal. “...Yer wounded. Too.”

You can’t stop a shocked, sharp laugh leaving your lips.  “I’m very aware of that, yes. Brilliant observation, Sherlock.”

“Let him speak,” Ghost grits out, and Soap’s grip tightens around your wrist. The smell of blood and gunpowder is potent in the night, but you find yourself at ease with the somewhat familiar scent. What’s throwing you off is the sudden add-on of their cologne – somehow, someway, you can smell it. Whether it’s military-duty, or it’s ingrained into their very bones, you haven’t a clue.

You could slap yourself for noticing, for being curious at all.

They smell oddly like cedarwood and musk.

“Let me fix ye up,” Soap supplies, and you can’t do anything but oblige.

Handing him the first aid kit, your fingers brush, and it really, really shouldn’t mean a thing. For the gods’ sake, you’d had your hands all over his upper arm just mere moments ago.

But there’s a spark.

Like a universal truth, maybe. Like a sensation of sudden purpose, as if all this time, all of your life, had led up to this very moment. To this very person.

You pull away sharply, and Soap doesn’t comment on it.

You’ll forever be grateful for that.

“This’ll hurt,” Soap chides, mocking your voice. You fight the urge to slap that smug grin off of his face.

You notice Ghost’s uneasy grip on the steering wheel as he cruises through the city, taking odd turns and slightly too risky manoeuvres. His focus is designated directly to his task, only occasionally checking on Soap.

Fingers underneath your chin force you to look to the Scot at your side, his movement gentle but fingers calloused and weathered. It’s an impossible dichotomy, but one you find yourself relaxing into anyways; the kind of impossible that one starts to think of as home.

Yet, your home is far from here.

Your home is in Graves’ quarters. At the Shadows’ base. 

It’s difficult to suppress the groan when Soap brushes the alcohol wipe against your cheek, but biting down on your lower lip does the job. If anything, it makes you focus on the sharp pain of that, rather than the graze on your cheek.

The trick lasts a few minutes, before Ghost goes over a particularly rough bump, causing the wipe to dig into your open wound. Your head falls forward, a soft grunt falling from your lips at the burst of pain.

“Aye, lass, ‘s alright,” Soap soothes, but it does little for your growing embarrassment. 

You shoot your glare his way, settling back further into your seat. “Thanks, but that’s enough for now.”

Soap’s expression betrays his inner turmoil, but you turn, looking out of the window. 

The darkness and rain battle along the forested roads, and it’s only now that you realise you’ve left the city. And, also, that you have no idea what’s happening, or where the fuck you’re even going.

“What’s the plan?” You ask steadily, falsifying your growing apprehension.

“A safehouse,” Ghost grunts the reply, and you already know that that’s all you’re going to get from him for now. Letting out a small huff, you fold your arms over your chest, resolutely not looking at Soap.

If you did, you’d see him personifying a kicked puppy.

Silence falls, once again, over the three of you. It allows for you to think, both over the storm brewing both outside, and in your head. 

You weren’t sure how long it would take Graves to realise that you betrayed him, if he would believe it at all. Somehow, you wouldn’t put it past him to say that this is all an elaborate kidnapping, but you figure he must have bigger problems to deal with than you going missing right now.

Then, there was the issue of alliances. Ghost hadn’t exactly agreed to working with you, and he definitely showed no signs of being anything but cold towards you. And, even then, could you really kill your – whatever Graves was – if it came down to it?

And what was to happen next? After everything was said and done? Would the 141 allow you to work with them?

Would you want to?

“We’re here.”

Pulling the handbrake, the truck stops, and you see that Ghost has pulled up outside a safehouse of some sort, in the outskirts of Las Almas.

You go to get out, but you realise that your door’s remained locked – and when you turn to question Ghost, you soon gather that it’s a purposeful move.

Ghost’s eyes narrow on you, calculating and assessing, before he says, voice like a gunshot in the quiet of the night –

“Give me a reason not to kill you right now, 'nd we might let you live.”

You swallow around the desert that your mouth’s become, and with shaky words, you respond.

a/n. first post of 2024!! i hope everyone enjoys, and if u did, please comment, reblog and follow!! mwah mwah

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias