#anyway here is to cold medicine working and muscle relaxers Also working

[trebeksfault]

everyone in my house has the flu and i have just gotten back on my sleeping/pain pills after a week. anyway experiencing some absolutely Insane physical sensations rn

[sluttywonwoo]

arm's-length || y.jh

pairing: yoon jeonghan x female reader

summary: you wake up sick the night before you're supposed to join your boyfriend on his work trip. you don't want to get him sick but he still wants you to go. a compromise is made.

warnings: swearing, mentions of covid (the reader does not have it though!!!!), suggestive content (mdni;18+)

word count: 4.4k

a/n: this was originally posted (years ago) on my main/tom holland account. but since i'm sick right now, i thought i might post it here too

notes: fans aren't (as) weird about k-pop idols dating in this au, seventeen also doesn't fly privately in this au... just suspend your disbelief for me

When you woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, throat burning, you assumed the worst. The shrill beeping of the thermometer in your mouth only confirmed what you already knew. You sighed, washed the thermometer and put it back in the medicine cabinet, trading it for a rapid COVID test. You still had a few a stacked underneath the sink for cases like these. You opened the package, swabbed yourself, and reached into the medicine cabinet bottle of ibuprofen. You shook two pills into your palm and used your other hand to cup water from the faucet to swallow them with. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you took a moment to look back up into the mirror at your bleak appearance. Even in the darkness you could see glassy, tired eyes staring back at you and a fine sheen of sweat that had broken out on your forehead. 

It felt like the minutes were dragging by, but your phone’s timer was going off before you knew it. You checked the test- negative, thank god, and then took a seat on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, trying to decide what to do. Jeonghan was leaving to go to Paris tomorrow morning for an UNESCO event, and you were supposed to be going with him. But you couldn’t get him sick too. You wouldn’t.

Resolving to spend the rest of the night on the couch, you tiptoed back into the bedroom to grab your pillow and a blanket.

Jeonghan turned over towards you as you attempted to quietly gather everything in your arms at your side of the bed without dropping anything and you bit back a curse.

“Baby?” he asked groggily, voice raspy. You saw him blinking hard, trying to get his eyes to adjust so he could see you, but you took a step back into the darkness, knowing that if he saw the state you were in he’d never fall back to sleep, and he needed it desperately.

“Go back to sleep, Hannie, I’ll be right back,” you lied, biting your lip as you did so, but you saw him relax back into the mattress and breathed a sigh of relief.

In the living room you sprawled out on the couch, but your aching muscles prevented you from getting comfortable. The thin blanket you’d dragged from the bedroom didn’t do much for your chill, but you wrapped it around you tightly anyway, hoping it would subside once the medicine kicked in.

“Baby?” you awoke to Jeonghan’s concerned voice above you.

You sat up with a groan and immediately shut your eyes tightly, willing the splitting headache that must’ve developed overnight to go away.  

“Why’re you out here?” he asked. “Did we have a fight I’m not remembering?”

You smiled weakly. “No, baby, I’m just not feeling that good so I moved to the couch. Didn’t want to get you sick.”

“What?”

“I just have a little fever, it’s not a big deal.”

Jeonghan looked appalled. “How little?”

You pressed your lips together, not answering. His soft brown eyes hardened just the tiniest bit and he leaned over the couch to feel your forehead. You ducked him initially, and he chuckled at your stubbornness, putting his hand on your shoulder gently to steady you and you surrendered. His cool fingers on your warm skin felt nice and you let yourself relax slightly back into him as he gauged your temperature for himself.

“You’re burning up, love. Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked, trying not to sound hurt.

“You needed sleep,” you explained, voice barely audible.

“And you didn’t?” 

You shrugged. “You have all that important stuff starting today, I just didn’t want-”

“I’m canceling it,”

“No, Jeonghan, you’re not.”

“You’re sick!”

“You can’t cancel on the UN,” you repeated in a measured tone. 

“What are they going to do, fire me?”

“I don’t know, maybe? I’d go as far as to say they’d murder you.” You took a deep breath. “I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”

Jeonghan let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “But you shouldn’t have to!”

“It’s fine, babe, really. I do it all the time, my immune system is a bitch.” You laughed lightly.

“Because I’m gone all the time,” he murmured in realization.

You frowned because that’s not what you’d been trying to get at, but you knew Jeonghan was already beating himself up for it anyway. “You know that’s not your fault. Your job…” you trailed off. 

“I just want to be able to take care of you.”

“And I don’t want to get you sick during the most important season of your career.”

Jeonghan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I-I can’t just leave you like this!”

“Fine, what about a compromise?” you asked with a cough. Jeonghan narrowed his eyes, but was listening. “I go with you, but you can’t touch me.”

“What? I can’t-” he sputtered.

“Not until I’m better! Do you know how much of an earful I’d get from your managers if I gave you what I have?”

“That’s a terrible compromise.”

“It’s the best I’ve got.”

“You realize how ridiculous that sounds? I can’t touch my fucking girlfriend?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That you’ll let me take care of you.”

“You can. From an arm’s length.”

“An arm’s length?! Like literally?”

“Yep.” You held your arm out in front of you to demonstrate. “That should be good.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

You were not kidding. And you were nothing if not stubborn. At the airport,  you were able to exchange your first class ticket for an economy seat in a row that wasn’t completely full when Jeonghan was taking pictures with some fans. You felt a little guilty about stranding him and going behind his back, but you told yourself it was for his own good. 

“Ready, babe?” you asked with as bright a smile as you could manage, hoping you didn’t look as sweaty as you felt.

The girls Jeonghan was surrounded by glanced up at you and gave you polite smiles. They backed off to give you guys some space, but still watched on curiously as the two of you interacted.

Jeonghan reached out for your hand and you didn’t pull away, knowing how bitchy it would look in front of the fans. He smirked as he interlaced his fingers with yours and waved goodbye to the girls. As soon as you got to the security line you yanked your hand out of his grasp, pulling out a bottle of hand sanitizer and squirting a bit into his hands. 

“You’re paranoid,” Jeonghan said with a chuckle, rubbing his hands together nonetheless.

“I’m trying to save my own ass,” you muttered coughing into your sleeve a couple of times. A few people in line gave you wary looks, but you ignored them.

You sat two seats apart from Jeonghan at the gate while you were waiting for the plane to arrive and Jeonghan didn’t protest, talking to you softly as you rested your eyes. You liked to listen to his voice, and he didn’t understand it, but indulged you anyway. He talked about different people around the terminal, describing them in detail. He talked about his sister, gossiped about his members like they weren’t sitting a few feet away. He talked about how beautiful you looked, making you laugh. You were wearing his clothes, the ones you’d gone to sleep in, and your eyes were bright red. Your entire face was flushed and you were still sweaty.

“It’s time for more medicine, my love,” Jeonghan reminded you softly and you opened your eyes again. You sat up and held your palm open so that your boyfriend could shake the pills from the bottle into your hand. You swallowed them with a sip of sprite. The bubbles felt good on your throat. 

An announcement was made for first class to start boarding and Jeonghan stood with a stretch, cracking his knuckles. 

“That’s us, baby,” he said when you didn’t stand, beckoning you to join him.

“About that…”

“About what?”

-

“Mr. Yoon, I’m really sorry, but you need to board, sir.” The flight attendant was young and nervous. You felt bad about holding everyone up, and even worse for making this woman’s job harder than it had to be.

“Please just give me another moment,” he pleaded impatiently. 

You’d been arguing with him for about ten minutes. The rest of first class had already boarded and business class was on standby, the only one holding them up being Jeonghan. In any other circumstance they would’ve gone ahead and started boarding business class anyway, but because Jeonghan was a priority passenger, they had to wait for him to be seated before they could continue. 

“It makes no sense. Why the fuck would you switch you tickets?”

“Jeonghan, we’re making a scene,” you said tiredly, noticing some of the passengers waiting had their phones out. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but you knew this wasn’t going to turn out well for either of you. 

“I don’t care.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” you apologized, your voice coming out weak. “Can we talk about this later?”

He hesitated, but ultimately gave in with a curt nod. 

“Now get your ass on that plane. I’ll see you when we land.”

Jeonghan gave you a tight smile and a kiss on the cheek that made you freeze. “I love you.”

“Love you.” Bastard. 

And then you watched him go, shoulders tense, expression guarded as he handed the scanned his ticket and walked into the tunnel.

You were one of the last to board, lagging behind the other passengers as not to draw more attention to yourself. Though in hindsight, it had the opposite effect. You could feel everyone watching you out of the corner of their eyes as you walked to the back of the plane and took your seat.

The only other person in your row was an older businesswoman which left the middle seat open. She gave you a nod before turning back to her kindle. You settled into your seat for the flight and shut your eyes. You just wanted to spend the next eight hours asleep and not thinking about how Jeonghan was probably fuming in his own seat right now, but you knew your chances were slim. 

By the time the plane landed, you hadn’t even slept for an hour, despite how hard you tried. It only added to how miserable and exhausted you already were. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of your phone screen and winced at how wrecked you looked. You were already dreading getting off the plane. Not only was Jeonghan probably still mad at you, but you knew people would be taking pictures of the two of you in the airport and you looked like shit. But there wasn’t much you could do about it aside from trying to comb through your hair with your fingers, which did little to nothing. 

Jeonghan was waiting for you on the jet bridge when you got off the plane, but he didn’t speak to you. You followed him off the ramp and into the airport where he slowed a little bit so you could grab his hand.

It was a routine you were used to, but tired of. Pretending like everything was okay in public when it wasn’t. You knew it was necessary, but you didn’t like how natural it had become for you. You and Jeonghan fought like any other couple, only you had to hide it. Putting on a happy face had become second nature, even when you felt shitty. And Jeonghan giving you the silent treatment right now made you feel shitty. 

You knew you couldn’t blame him either, you had lied to him, but you already felt like you were dying and his anger wasn’t helping. 

The airport seemed a million miles long and your hand felt sweaty in Jeonghan’s. He smiled and nodded at the fans who were waiting over by baggage claim and the entrance and you tried to do the same, but your cheeks hurt after just a few minutes and you knew the pictures posted online later were going to be rough. 

You were almost out the door and in an Uber, when you began coughing and doubled over in the middle of the walkway. It was all way more dramatic than it should’ve been. It wasn’t really a big deal, it happened whenever you got sick because your asthma was a bitch. You just needed a moment to catch your breath, but in a second Jeonghan had a hand on your shoulder, standing in front of you to block you from onlookers and cameras.

“Baby, are you alright?” he asked, voice laced with concern. 

“Now you talk to me?” you shot back, smirking when a brief shade of bitterness crossed over Jeonghan’s features. You straightened up and brushed yourself off like nothing had happened. “I’m fine, Jeonghan. Let’s get to the hotel, yeah?”

He sighed, and gave you a once-over like he wasn’t sure if you were telling the truth, but relented and grabbed your hand- the one you’d accidentally coughed into before switching to the crook of your elbow (like you were supposed to do to avoid spreading germs) and you rolled your eyes. He was impossible.

Jeonghan rubbed your head in the Uber on the way to the hotel and you didn’t protest. You weren’t being very good about enforcing the whole “arm’s length” rule, but you gave yourself a pass for this one. 

-

Once at the hotel, you tried to carry some of the luggage up to your room and nearly gave Jeonghan a heart attack in the process. The way his eyes bugged out of his head when you picked up the biggest duffel bag in the pile and slung it over your shoulder while he was trying to check in was comical. You saw him curse and apologize to the receptionist before jogging over to where you were standing, leaving his credit card and wallet on the counter. 

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he hissed, and took the duffel bag from you, promptly dropping it on the floor. 

You grinned at him sheepishly. “Sorry?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, something he’d been doing a lot in the past twelve hours. “Just- stay here, okay? And don’t do any more weightlifting.”

You shook your head at him as he walked back over to the check-in desk, while keeping his eyes on you and nearly tripping over a side table on the way there. You stood there for a second while he finished up the paperwork and the security deposit, too out of it to do anything with yourself.

“Let’s go, hot stuff,” Jeonghan called out from across the lobby, flashing a pair of keycards at you.

He grabbed the bags this time and handed you the keys in return. As soon as you were in the room and the door clicked shut behind you, you flopped down onto the bed like a starfish, and groaned in pain.

“I’m so sorry you’re sick, baby,” Jeonghan said sweetly as he kneeled on the carpet beside you.

“And I’m sorry I went behind your back and changed my seat on the plane without telling you.”

“It’s okay. I understand why you did it. I would’ve liked to sit next to you, though.” 

“I would’ve liked that too, but I refuse to get you sick, Jeonghan. And I got like two hundred airline points when I downgraded my seat!” 

You smiled triumphantly and Jeonghan chuckled. He propped himself up on the edge of the bed on his elbows and leaned forward to kiss your forehead. He frowned.

“When was the last time you took medicine, y/n?”

You tried to recall it, but you couldn’t remember. Your brain felt too fuzzy. “I dunno.”

“Did you take anything on the plane?”

“Um…” you winced, knowing you were about to get an earful. 

“‘I can take care of myself’ absolute bullshit,” Jeonghan scoffed and reached for the backpack next to him. “I’m never leaving you home sick again.”

“Hannieee,” you whined.

He parroted your name back in the exact same tone of voice. “Here, let’s take your temperature.”

He held the thermometer out to you and you put it under your tongue lazily, already knowing it wasn’t going to be pretty. It beeped loudly only a few seconds later and Jeonghan snatched it out of your mouth before you could look at it. 

“Fuck.”

“What’s the damage, doc?”

He cracked a small smile and sighed. “One hundred point six.” He checked his watch. “Okay, it’s about six-thirty now, you can take some ibuprofen now and then some tylenol at nine-thirty.”

“Are you really supposed to swap them out like that so much?” you asked, taking the pills Jeonghan offered you.

“The managers always did it for me and the members, we turned out fine.”

“Define ‘fine’,” you teased, earning a glare from your boyfriend. 

“Please just take your medicine,” Jeonghan begged. “You haven’t had any in your system for hours.”

“I’m usually good about this stuff,” you insisted and threw the medicine back with a gulp of water. 

He slid the bottle of pills back into the backpack along with the thermometer and crossed his arms. “Yeah, something tells me that when you get sick you keep going to work even though you tell me you’re staying home, you sleep on your breaks, take ibuprofen every ten hours or so, don’t really use your inhaler- even when you’re coughing up a lung, and eat mmm once a day? That sound about right?”

He’d only really half nailed it. Well… maybe seventy percent nailed it. Eighty at best. You gave him an amused look and smiled smugly. “You don’t have any proof.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you. “I have your best friend.”

“Son of a bitch, I’m going to kill her.” You sat up and reached for your phone that you’d set up to charge on the bedside table. 

“Hey,” Jeonghan grabbed your wrist gently. “She was just trying to help, love. I asked her what you usually did when you’re sick so that I could know what you like and take care of you, and she told me the truth. She worries about you, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know that actually,” you admitted.

“Well she does.”

“I know those are all bad habits and stuff, but I’m not completely incompetent. I make myself tea and soup when I’m sick. I take hot baths, 

“Do you want me to draw you a bath?”

“That’d be really nice at home, but… I don’t know, I’m just weird about hotel baths.”

He nodded in understanding. “I get it, let’s just shower instead.”

“Both of us?” you asked hesitantly.

“I was thinking so?” He scrunched his face up in confusion. “Why?”

“Because,” you paused to cough, “I’m sick. I don’t want to get you sick. Arm’s length and all that.”

“I know, but it’ll help you feel better.” Jeonghan held his hand out to you. “Come on, baby,” he coaxed and led you into the bathroom. 

He managed to get you and himself undressed and in the shower without further argument from you. Truthfully, you were too tired to fight about it. You could barely stay awake and upright as Jeonghan worked shampoo through your hair, let alone form a comprehensible sentence. You moaned a bit as his strong hands rubbed soap down your torso, not being able to help your body’s reaction to his touch.

“You okay, baby?” he asked. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” you said and shook your head, immediately regretting it when the room started spinning around you. “Sorry, just kind of out of it.”

“Don’t worry, my love.” Jeonghan smiled at you and leaned in to kiss you. You came to your senses and pushed yourself away from him. He didn’t even try to hide a frown this time.

“Can you at least try to stay healthy?” you sighed and stepped out of the shower.

Jeonghan wasn’t far behind you and wrapped a towel around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault you’re so fucking irresistible.”

You glared at him. “Smooth.”

He looked amused. “Wow you must be really sick, not even my pickup lines are working on you.”

“I’m going to bed,” you said, ignoring him.

You climbed into bed in a sweatshirt, pajama pants, and socks while Jeonghan came to bed in just his boxers. You looked at him in disbelief. 

“You’ll freeze, Hannie. It’s cold as fuck in here.”

“No it’s not,” he replied and bit his lip. “You’ve got a fever, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, baby. I can warm you up,” he offered and rolled over to hold you, only to be smacked with a pillow. 

“Keep your hands to yourself, Yoon.”

You made a small barrier of pillows between you so neither of you would accidentally (or purposely, ahem Jeonghan) roll over and touch the other in the middle of the night. 

“Are you serious?” Jeonghan pouted. “Baby-”

“Nuh-uh we had a deal. You need to be feeling your best for... whatever it is you’re doing tomorrow. You’re the interim leader, after all.” 

“Whatever,” he huffed and rolled over onto his other side.

“You’ll be thanking me whenever you don’t catch what I have,” you said and coughed a few more times. 

You rolled over to turn off the lamp on the table next to you before pulling the covers all the way up to your chin and finally, finally getting some sleep. 

You dreamt about him. About Jeonghan. About his hands on your body while being buried deep inside you. His mouth was on your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. You arched your back when he moaned softly in your ear, gripping the sheets tightly with one hand, using the other to pull at his hair. You felt yourself getting close when he began thrusting into you harder than before and you gasped at the sensation, only getting closer to the edge when he called out your name. 

“Y/n,” at first whispered and then more firmly. “Y/n. Y/n!”

Your eyes snapped open and you searched the dark room frantically, looking for Jeonghan. He was right next to you, gazing at you in concern. His hair was sticking up all over the place from where he’d moved around in his sleep and he was looking at you expectantly. 

“You were calling out for me, are you okay?”

Your face was burning with embarrassment and you wondered if he could tell. You were still breathing hard, and you were a little sweaty, but you couldn’t tell if it was from your fever or from your dream. “I’m fine, sorry to wake you.” 

“Were you… dreaming about me?” he pressed, leaning over the pillow barrier to look at you closely. 

You hesitated. “Uh, yeah.”

“What was the dream about?”

“Nothing important, we were, um…in a corn maze! We were in a corn maze and I couldn’t find you and that’s why I was calling out for you.”

“A corn maze?” He didn’t look convinced.

“Mhm.”

“Baby?” he asked again. 

“Yeah?”

“Was it a sex dream?”

“…maybe.”

Jeonghan’s face lit up and he lifted himself up onto his arms to climb on top of you. “Here let me help-”

You held out and arm to stop him. “I’m, I’m fine Jeonghan,” you lied, clenching your thighs together. 

He flopped back down onto his stomach on top of the pillow barrier. “So if I reached into your panties right now, you wouldn’t be wet?”

You swallowed. “Nope.”

“Liar.”

“I’m fine, Jeonghan! Sex is literally the last thing we should be doing right now! Do you know how much bacteria-”

“I never said anything about sex,” he countered.

“What are you talking about?”

“I was just going to eat you out! I want you to feel better, baby.”

“I think that’s somehow worse?”

“No way, I don’t think I can catch anything from eating you out.”

“I’m almost positive you can, Hannie. I’m fine.”

“I’m googling it!” He announced and rolled back over. Before you could protest the light from his phone was shining over his face as he typed. “Can you catch a contagious virus from eating pussy?”

“That’s going to be in your search history forever.”

“The internet doesn’t say anything against it,” he declared victoriously.

“Does it say anything about it at all?”

“Uh… yeah. It says it’s fine”

“Who’s the liar now, Jeonghan?” He grinned sheepishly. “Go back to sleep, I’m fine. I’m not even horny anymore.”

He looked at you like he didn’t believe you, but ultimately put his phone back on the table and closed his eyes again. In no time he was breathing deeply and you could relax. Why was common sense so lacking in your boyfriend? What part of the no touching deal did he not understand? The answer was all of it and it was a pain in the ass. He was a pain in the ass. A pain in the ass that you loved very much, but a pain in the ass nonetheless. 

You closed your eyes, but couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that you weren’t tired, you were still completely exhausted, but Jeonghan had been right. You were still insanely turned on from your dream and you weren’t sure what to do about it. You waited a few minutes for the urge to subside, but it didn’t. 

“You were about to cum, weren’t you?” Jeonghan piped up out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of you.

“Fuck, I thought you were asleep.”

“Just answer the question,” Jeonghan growled, not helping your current situation whatsoever. “In your dream, you were about to, right? You were biting your lip like you do when you’re going to cum.”

You sighed. “Yeah. Yeah I was.”

“But you didn’t?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“Let me help you finish, baby. It’ll help you sleep,” Jeonghan insisted. “You need rest.”

You sniffled and groaned. “Ugh, you’re impossible, you know that?”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes,” you surrendered and pushed the blankets down below your hips. “But the rule still applies. Arm’s length.”

He smirked. “I think I can work with that.”

[moonlighter-at-midnight]

ror | shiva x reader | the hot spring screwup

hi there! this is my first writing piece in yeeeears so sorry if it’s booty. i originally was working on a buddha chapter piece but got this idea and decided to post this first since it’s just a little one off thing. the idea of the reader’s character is basically the same as the one that i will be writing about in the buddha piece. so if you like this, be on the lookout for that release! also, i have only watched the anime so what I know is solely based on that (with some additional research courtesy of professor google) so if there are any inaccuracies, i apologize! anyway, please enjoy! ♡

warnings: nudity, no sexy time but heavily alludes to it, basically straight up mentions wanting to bang shiva

spice level: 🌶️🌶️🌶️/5

You sigh dreamily as you step into the steaming water, sinking down until you were submerged from the neck down. Your tense muscles unraveled and the dull ache of your wounds waned, sending you into a state of pure euphoria. In life, you had fought in a myriad of brawls, but none quite like this. It was a battle of souls, a bout that would affect humanity’s fate, and against a god no less. However, you had managed to overpower your opponent in the very end, saving your soul from decimation and adding another triumph under humanity’s belt — and all at the cost of a badly broken arm, cracked ribs, and bruised lungs. Despite the advanced technology and medicine of the god realm, it did little to quell your pain. Thankfully, one of the nurses told you about the incredible hot spring, and you were all too pleased to learn that the bandages were infused with some type of magic that allowed it to get wet. Valhalla was sure an interesting place.

The idyllic silence is abruptly broken when you hear several pairs of feet shuffle into the area. You grumble quietly at having to share the divine space. You were not in the mood to interact with people especially if they were gods. That was the very last thing you wanted. But, the hot spring seemed spacious enough and paired with the heavy shroud of steam, you’d probably have very minimal to no contact with whoever else had entered. As long as you stayed in your little nook at the far side of the spring, they wouldn’t bother you right?

“This was a good idea. I’m getting riled up and tense waiting for my turn to fight. If only old man Zeus hadn’t browbeat me into letting him take my turn. This will definitely help loosen me up.”

You freeze, your once relaxed muscles stiffening at the sound of the booming voice.

What?? Is that a man’s voice? It couldn’t be.. No, it has to be a mistake…this is the women’s hot spring…maybe it’s just a woman with a deep voice. Yeah, that’s it..a woman with a deep voice, you think to yourself trying to assuage your panicking mind. Your breathing grows shallow as you nervously listen for affirmation that these were indeed women. Females. Girls. Fellow vagina owners. And not men.

“Always itching for a fight huh Shiva? Glad to know you haven’t changed,” another voice says as multiple laughs erupt into the air.

Your stomach drops, and you feel like it’s falling out of your butt as your fears are dismally confirmed. Not only were they men, but at least one of them, if not all, were gods.

Fuck me.

You try to ever so silently press yourself against a rock in the farthest corner possible, dipping yourself lower into the water so that you were only visible from the nose up. If it weren’t for the thick steam emanating from the spring, you surely would have already been noticed.

The water sloshes and ripples as the men make their way into the spring, causing your anxiety to further skyrocket as your chances of a clean escape begin to dwindle. You had to get the hell out of here. You try to devise a plan to flee undetected or at least without your identity being discovered. If you ever meet the legendary Mulan, you’d have to ask her how the hell she did it. But, here were the cold, hard facts: You were butt ass naked. At least five to six men were here, probably all gods, one of them being the all powerful Shiva. The exit and your towel were on the completely opposite side of where you were. You had a broken arm, broken ribs, broken everything really; you were in no condition to fight.

Plan A: Jump out of the spring from where you were and run like hell. High risk of slipping, falling, breaking your neck, and then having your dead, naked body discovered by a bunch of male gods. Next.

Plan B: Walk across the spring and hope that you don’t get noticed. High risk of getting caught and bumping into someone who will kill you and then having your dead, naked body discovered by a bunch of male gods. Next.

Plan C: Swim underwater. The water seemed clear enough. However, your lungs were bruised, and although not fatal or very serious, that put your breath holding capacity to maybe like five seconds. Ten if you were feeling daring. Not to mention you had only one good arm. You were sure this plan would probably also lead to your dead, naked body being discovered by male gods. Next.

Plan D: Quietly stay behind this rock and hope they leave without ever detecting your presence. Hmmm. Alright, (y/n), okay. I might be on to something here. They haven’t discovered me yet, and they’re probably on the other side and are totally not going to come over here. No risk of being discovered dead and naked. None whatsoever.

You nod to yourself, stupidly confident in your plan and so totally absorbed in your own thoughts that you failed to notice the white haired, smoking man that had peered at you from over the other side of the rock.

“Who are you? Why you hiding behind this rock?” the man asks nonchalantly.

You jerkily pause your head mid-nod and slowly look up at him. At this point, you were still only visible from the nose up. And just like that, your plan had gone up in flames.

“Well? Are you going to say something or are you just going to hide in the water?” he speaks again.

“Indra, who are you talking to over there?” yells one of the men.

“I found some guy hiding over here. Varuna, clear the steam will ya?”

Suddenly, the dense haze of steam dissipates. You peek out from behind the rock and are confronted by five other pairs of intense eyes. The white haired man, who you gathered as Indra, gets down from the rock and joins the rest of the group. Among the men was a blue man with an elaborate headdress, a long, white haired man with some sort of weird mask over his face, a large, tan man with purple beads around his neck, a black, spiky haired man with four arms adorned with several tattoos, and last but not least, the one with the most intense aura of them all — a purple, four armed man, with a third eye in between his eyebrows. You gulp.

This isn’t good.

“Yo, who are you and why are you hiding?” says the purple guy aggressively.

He locks eyes with you as he approaches. You instinctively scoot back. As you watch him scrupulously, something in his demeanor and appearance tells you that this guy is Shiva. And if it you weren’t so unnerved and being backed into a corner by him, you’d say he was actually quite hot. Too bad he was probably going to snap you like a twig.

“I’ll ask you one more time before I force the answer out of you,” he asserts, cracking his knuckles to emphasize his point.

You feel your body slump in defeat. There was no way out of if it. You were out of options and better to maybe try and explain yourself instead of foolishly staying silent. You take a deep breath through your nose before standing up fully. It was the first time you felt truly blessed for being vertically challenged as the water was about chest deep on you, covering your goods.

Everyone looks at you with some degree of surprise and shock as they realize that you’re a human woman. Shiva specifically gazes at you hard. Something about you seemed familiar, although he knew he’d never seen your face before. He would never forget a human who looked as exceptionally stunning as you. But then it clicked. The broken arm, the (y/c) eyes — you were one of the Einherjar. He had witnessed your fight earlier, but your all black shinobi outfit revealed nothing but your eyes, thoroughly concealing your appearance. You had been introduced with only the first initial of your given name revealed which further added to the obscurity. He, the other gods, the humans, and the legends passed down about you, all speculated you were a man, but clearly history was very wrong. Regardless, he was too enamored in the battle itself to have paid any attention to the individuals fighting in it. But now that you were in front him, fully exposed and vulnerable, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He also couldn’t help but observe the way beads of water sensually glided down your body and into the valley of your breasts, disappearing into unseeable territory — territory he wanted to explore and conquer. And the way you shyly looked up at him through your lashes only made him curious to know what that pretty face would look like when he did it.

Shiva smirks. ”A human huh? You were that one fighting earlier weren’t you? (first initial f/n) (l/n) right?”

You couldn’t help but feel incredibly flustered from being basically naked in front of bunch of a men whose eyes were all on you. Especially Shiva’s. You could feel him unabashedly scrutinizing every inch of you, his eyes darkening with desire. Your face burns red, and you look away.

Damn, he has me so hot and bothered. Why is he so good looking?

“Yeah, that’s me…you can call me (f/n). Uhm, look I don’t want to cause any trouble so if you could just let me pass, I’d really appreciate it…” you manage to utter.

“Go right on ahead,” Shiva says, still smirking. He steps aside making way for you to pass. The other men follow suit.

Why does this seem too easy?

“Thank you…also, could you guys turn around?”

The other gods glance at each other and shrug and start moving at your request. All except Shiva of course.

“I prefer to watch,” he says impishly, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Your eyes widen, and you snap your head towards him. “But!” you start to object.

“You can walk out yourself or I can do it for you. Which one will it be, Miss (y/n)?” His smirk only grows wider. The other gods only shake their heads at his antics.

A shiver runs down your spine. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know what the latter meant (or maybe you did), but you had set your mind on getting out of there. Taking another deep breath, you start making your way out of the water. You put your good arm across your breasts as the water level curtails the closer you get to the edge of the spring. Shiva’s eyes remains fixated on you, not daring to miss a single moment.

Here goes.

Taking the final step out the water, the cold air swathes your naked body and you break out in goosebumps. You briskly rush to your towel in a desperate but futile attempt to cover your ass from Shiva who’s enjoying every second of it. You try to ignore his scorching stare on your backside as you finally grab your towel and wrap it around you, gripping it tightly with your good hand. You sigh heavily.

So much for not letting the gods see me naked. But at least I’m not dead and naked.

You’re about to head towards the exit when a hand grips your towel, jolting you forward into them. Your startled eyes come face to face with Shiva’s devilish ones. You somehow maintain the grasp on your towel, although it becomes dangerously close to being pulled off you. Your eyes unintentionally trail down, half relieved to see a towel around him, yet half disappointed. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Shiva who could only revel in the reactions he elicited from you.

What is wrong with me?

Normally, you’d never let someone toy with you like this, never mind this overwhelming sexual desire you had for this man. But the carnal look in Shiva’s eyes, his sexy smirk, his muscular physique, his tantalizing, brazen demeanor — it was enough to make you putty. You couldn’t imagine how you’d act if he touched you.

“(y/n), you know what? I decided I don’t want you to go. Why not stay with me from a while?” His grip tightens on your towel, his knuckles grazing your skin.

You shudder at the slight brush of his skin on yours. It feels like an electric shock has run through you and into your very core. As you consider the tempting offer, a little voice in the back of your head starts to emerge from the depths of your lust smitten brain.

No matter how hot he was, he was still a god. Someone who wanted the destruction of humanity and who undoubtedly would be participating in Ragnarok on the side of the gods. The answer is obvious. I should say no… plus I mean, like, a god and a human? Is that even allowed? There’s just no way. I can’t just do naughty things with him…right?

“I should really go..” you say half heartedly, clearly conflicted.

“It wasn’t a request (y/n),” he says, his eyes darkening as he pulls you against him.

Before you’re able to respond, someone clears his throat behind you. You both look to see the other four armed god, a pair of arms resting on his clothed hips and the other pair of arms crossed loosely at his waist. “Shiva, you should let her go. Don’t force her.”

You almost object to his usage of the word force but decided it would be best to keep your mouth shut.

“Ahh, Rudra. You’re always so serious. I was just having some fun,” Shiva responds light heartedly, loosening his grip on your towel. “But, I guess you’re right! You know best!”

Before you had a chance to protest, Shiva had already let you go and was headed back towards the water, a pair of arms nonchalantly behind his head. You stood there, stunned at the abrupt loss of his closeness and touch. Feeling disappointed would be an understatement. You turn and manage to mutter a thank you to Rudra who nods his head in acknowledgment before also heading back to the water where the other gods had silently been watching everything unfold.

You watch Shiva as he descends further into the spring, his back facing you. You sigh dejectedly. Steam begins to fill the air again, but before Shiva is completely engulfed, he looks back at you, smirk plastered on his face as he winks at you. Your face flushes, and you could feel heat rushing to your core. Something told you that this wouldn’t be the last time you would see him.

extra scene

You hastily leave the hot spring and into the locker room. As you start to change, you replay the events of what happened in your head. The more you think about it, the more increasingly irritated you become. You were unsure if it stemmed from pent up sexual frustration or from being cornered in a potentially perilous, but completely avoidable, situation. Whatever it was, you were peeved and wanted to take it out on someone, and you knew exactly who. Once you’re fully dressed, you storm to the reception area of the hot springs and furiously approach the front desk. The same teen who checked you in was still there, face still buried in the same magazine as when you had first arrived. If he had taken his eyes off his magazine for two seconds instead of just waving you over to the male side, you wouldn’t be in this mess.

“Excuse me!” you say sharply, slamming the key card down on the counter. This spooks the teen boy into dropping his magazine, face twisted in bewilderment and fear.

“Y-Y-yes ma’am? How can I be of service to you?” the young kid stutters, scared shitless by the cross look on your face and the intense aura you exuded.

“You waved me into the male side of the hot spring! Do you know the kind of mess you got me into?! Do I look like a man to you?!”

His eyes widen, mortified. He had only hoped nothing bad happened to you. He couldn’t afford to lose this job. His mom would kill him.

“I am so sorry ma’am! No, of course I don’t think you look like a man. I must’ve made a mistake when I scanned your key card!”

He was sure that all the key cards he had scanned today belonged to all males, but even he couldn’t deny that he never really paid attention to the actual person coming in and could’ve easily made a mistake. He takes the key card and scans it, scouring the information on the computer. He looks at the screen then looks at you then back at the screen. Well no wonder he waved her over to the male side. She raises an eyebrows questioningly.

“Is something wrong?”

“Uh, your name is (f/n) (l/n) right?”

“Yes, and?”

He turns the computer screen to you. A picture of you in your fighting attire served as your ID picture and in bold letters under “sex” read male. It suddenly all made sense. You can only snort at the revelation.

“I’m sorry ma’am! I believe there was a mistake when creating your key card! I can get that fixed up. We just need to take a new picture and change you over to female-“ but before he could finish, you snatch the key card from him.

“Nope, that’s okay! That’ll be all! Thanks!” you exclaim hurriedly, setting a generous amount of bribe money down on the counter before scurrying away.

Maybe I can “accidentally” run into Shiva again.

You smile giddily to yourself as you fantasize about your next encounter with the devilishly handsome god.

The teen watches you run away, dumbfounded. “I need another job,” he complains to himself. He gathers the money and slowly grins to himself as he counts the stack of bills you left. “Or maybe not,” he says to himself, tucking the money into his pocket. He had a feeling he would probably be “accidentally” waving you over to the male side again.

shoutout to those who caught the mean girls reference! sorry if you read this nonsense lol i kept editing and rewriting for days and eventually got fed up and decided to just post it. hopefully, i’ll get better at writing!

[peakyscillian]

Medicine | One Shot

Summary: Cillian and family time is the best medicine. Warnings: Fluff! Dad!Cill Pairing: Cillian X Fem!Reader Part:1/1 Requested: No - I'm just unwellll and would love a Cillian to come stroke my head. Notes - the part in italic are little flash backs of younger reader & Cillian! Also seriously unedited because I had the urge to write but no energy to edit.

Medicine | One Shot

Masterlist.

Medicine.

The muffled sounds of your three children floated through the closed door, you could feel the steam easing the pressure on your sinuses and head.

You'd spent the past week in bed, Cillian taking over the school run, your share of the house work and the cooking.

Just lifting your head from the pillow to accept bowls of soup and hot drinks was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

You were so glad Cillian was home, so you could rest and hide from the outside world, with tissue shoved up your nose and piles upon piles of empty medication packets, cough sweet wrappers and used tissues.

You heard the unmistakeable whisper of Cillian ushering the children from the room, before the bathroom door was opened.

"How you feeling love?" he asked closing the door behind himself.

"More human" you smiled, looking up at him, he gently pushed your hair back off your forehead, instinctivly checking your temperature like he would the childrens.

"The three mini humans are asking when they can cuddle mummy" Cillian perched on the side of the bath, you looked up at him "We could all climb into bed" you suggested.

Cillian smiled, nodding at your request, grabbing the loofah from the hook, you passed him the bodywash the scent he loved, when it clung to your skin as you slipped into bed next to him. The silence between you was comfortable after fifteen years of marriage and twenty years of being together you didn't need to fill them.

Cillian slowly washed your back his fingers grazing over your skin, the final remenants of a summer tan fading, the small tattoo of your wedding date on your shoulder blade.

Cillian smiled, you had looked mesmerising that day, the ivory gown flowing over your curves, the beaming smile you wore all day, the way you had fallen asleep curled into his chest moments after getting into bed, a mumbled i love you hubs leaving your lips as you drifted off.

You relaxed into his touch, as his hands replaced the loofah, massaging at your aching muscles, your eyes closed as he worked at the knots in your shoulders, you could drift off right there in the warm bath with your husband relaxing you.

"Don't fall asleep" he laughed lightly, you opened your eyes slowly to meet his gaze.

"So good with those hands, Murphy" you giggled, he smirked leaning to press a kiss to your lips something that had been banned for the past week, not wanting you both ill with three children running rings round you.

The kiss was slow, soft pecks then his tongue snaked into your mouth, you had missed him, missed the close contact of him, both mid forties and acting like teenagers all over again.

You'd met at your twenty first birthday, in some run down club in Dublin, Cillian had backed into you at the bar, spilling your red wine down your dress, you had a face like thunder as he turned round apologies falling from his full lips "My bloody dress ya eejit" you had shoved at his shoulder, before storming off.

Two hours later you were wrapped round him in the taxi rank, lips pressed together as you sheltered from the rain, he'd been mumbling about a new dress but you weren't sure you cared if the ruined one was going to end up on his bedroom floor anyway.

Cillian pulled away first, the need to actually breathe getting the better of him "bet the water is getting cold?" he asked, you nodded as he got up pulled the towel from the heated rack and held it for you.

"Come here" he wrapped you in the fluffy towel, pulling your body into him, dropping a kiss to the top of your head.

-

An hour and a half later, the children fed, bathed and in pyjama's you were all piling into the superking bed.

You and Cillian in the middle, Arabella between your legs resting against your chest, Finley on Cillians left side, Jackson, your oldest baby sitting to your right phone in hand.

You could feel your heart swell with love for the three children you and Cillian had bought into the world, Cillian was an amazing dad, god you loved watching him with the children.

Somedays you were convinced you could have a handful more babies with him, then you were reminded of the tantrums, the sleepless nights and the aching bones of being pregnant.

You were thankful for the sleep interuptions becoming less frequent, for the alone time you got with Cillian, but right now snuggled up in your bed, your husbands hand resting on your thigh, the sweet scent of your daughters freshly washed hair, the press of your teenage son leaning agaist your side, your middle son passing you the remote 'to chose a film because you've been unwell mummy its your turn', you were sure you could see another one or two slotting in perfectly.

Hours later when you're carefully moving your sleeping daughter to her own bed, Cillian carrying a half asleep Finley to his room and Jackson mumbling a goodnight before closing his door you knew you couldn't juggle another newborn.

When you slipped into bed next to Cillian, his hands wandering under the oversized sleep shirt, his lips peppering kisses across your collarbone, you were sure you wouldn't give up moments like this for nights covered in milk and rocking a teething baby back to sleep.

-

Taglist

@missymurphy1985 @heidimoreton @queenshelby @cloudofdisney @janelongxox @being-worthy @elenavampire21 @datewithgianni @magicalpieex @uchihacumdump @inkandpen22 @pocket-of-possibilities @radioheadgirl @vhscillian @lovemissyhoneybee @ysmmsy @alreadybroken-ts @anotherhitandrun @lyarr24 @blyanyan @gypsy-girl-08 @thomasshelbee @look-at-the-soul @runnning-outof-time @seleneshelby @allie131313 @flyingjosephine-blog @camilleholland89

[fieryhonesty]

“Story’s based on a request from a Nonnie and they are right! Our Xiao needs hugs and rest a bit.”

Words: 1910

Genre: fluff, f!reader

Xiao is always keeping things for him. He will never seek company to share his burdens. After all, there is no trouble which will last long enough, he says. However he can't deny there are moments when he is fed up. Be it the never ending war he fights or his own problems. Which are having roots back in history.

Sometimes there's too much to handle at once, yet he stands tall and faces it headon. Never argues or falters with decisions. As long as it means he can protect Liyue. 

To anyone who has never seen him or rarely, he looks like a strong and cold man. But is he really like this? He is an Adeptus, he has seen a lot and experienced some battle scars. Was Xiao always like this? Back in the days when all other Yaksha existed. 

Many things happened in his life. He can't even count or remember it all. But all those things made him who he is now. Although there are things which still surprise or confuse him. 

He never liked showing himself in front of mortals. There are just a few ones which he tolerates or even allows to talk to him. If he is in a good mood of course. The ones who know Xiao also know about keeping distance when he is upset.

But there's one mortal whose boldness or maybe stupidity never ceases to amaze him. He told you so many times to leave him be, added harsh words and yet... you didn't turn away. Instead approached and offered a companionship. 

He eventually gave up with chasing the silly female away. At first he didn't know why she was so stubborn. Mortals are strange but you are like one or two levels stranger than anyone else. Just why do you wish to spend time with somebody like him?

You are like a bridge between the silent and closed up Adeptus and mortal realm. Part of him is still hesitant and refuses to share his burdens. He might have allowed you to stay beside him, be it in silence or tell him what you did that day. What strange things happened or something. He would just sit there and listen. But none of this means he will let his guard down. He will always be fully aware of what's happening around. 

You are often asking yourself: does he ever rest? As you know him for a while you are able to recognize when he is really sad and you shouldn't say much. Or when he is quite alright and willing to listen to your rambling until you fall asleep. The fact you can peacefully sleep in Xiao's presence amazes him.

Today is one of those nights when he would have preferred to be just alone. But why does he feel this burning desire to pay you a visit? Is it because you didn't come for a few days and he got worried? No. That can't be it. Xiao has no attachment to anybody, especially mortals.

Truth to be told, he feels tired and despite feeling the way he feels. He decides to silently knock on your door. At first he thought he knocked too lightly. For a brief second he thought to himself to leave. Why is he here anyway? But then he heard your footsteps from behind the door. 

He feels so conflicted. He shouldn't be here, seeking anyone's company. Solitude and sadness are nothing to him.

When you open the door of your apartment, the cold is immediately making you shiver. Not wasting any second grabbing Xiao's wrist and pulling him inside. The cold is too much for you. How the heck he can just stand there and not shiver?! 

Be it anyone else touching him, he would have asked them if they do have a death wish. He got used to your touch at least a bit. You sometimes gently squeezed his hand in a friendly gesture. To assure him you are there, willing to listen to anything or just sit silently and observe the sky.

Letting go of his wrist and looking into his golden eyes. As usually his expression is the same but you can feel he is not alright. His shoulders are unusually down and overall his posture is different. 

"Is something wrong?"

You ask with a slightly tilted head to the side. You are not even aware of this, you do it automatically all the time. It's kind of cute but don't expect the Adeptus will say it out loud. He is already confused. He wanted to be alone, why did he come here. He is clearly delaying your bedtime. He should have never come. But the words escaping his lips are even more confusing him. 

"You didn't come..."

Is he really worried about a mortal? Didn't he promise to himself to never get any attachment to anyone? Not even to another Adepti. 

Your next move is really bold and unexpected. Xiao gasps in surprise as you wrap your arms around him.

"Y/n? What are you...?"

Perhaps embracing him would not be the brightest idea if you consider how little he knows about human interactions. But you couldn't help yourself. Feeling a bit guilty for making the poor man worried. He already has a lot on his plate.

"I'm sorry if I did worry you."

You said as you gently rubbed his back, drawing circles in a soothing manner. 

It took him a while to realize what was going on. He seen this act between other mortals but never cared what does it mean. It's just two people are in close proximity, touching each other. But there's something strange about the act. 

Your warmth. 

He didn't feel cold while being outside, he is used to it. But when he feels your warmth he can't help it but feel a bit at ease. When you pull back to check on him, he feels a little... sad? Perhaps he missed the opportunity to repay the act. 

"You know. There's something I had noticed about you, Xiao."

He lifts an eyebrow at you. Unable to contain the curiosity.

"How much do you trust me?" 

You ask while trying to keep your smile. Aware of how much the question doesn’t make sense with what you said before.

Xiao on the other hand is pondering over your question. How much does he trust a mortal like you? And why are you asking him in the first place?

"That's stupid thing to ask. You should have known the answer already."

There we go again. Xiao and his not so sugar coated words. Surely you know he has at least a bit more trust in you than other humans. But would he let you touch him even more? No matter how you put it, it will sound wrong.

"Well then... it just crossed my mind out of nowhere but. Uh... There's something that always bugged me. Do you ever rest or relax at all? I mean yes you do just hang around at Wangshu here and now. But I mean like a real rest..."

You had to stop yourself. Feeling how your monologue was getting worse by each said word.

"I don't need to-"

"Yes, you do." 

Oh no. It slipped out faster than you could think of it. He is silent, eyes slightly narrowed. Did you anger him? It's quite easy to do it after all.

"What do you propose then?"

"Eh?" 

"Don't 'eh' at me. If you think I need to relax then you should have an idea how."

You are finally on the same page. Sometimes you hate your brain to jump into way too fast conclusions. You motion for him to follow you to your living room where you both sit on the sofa. Telling him to sit turned back to you. 

You are sitting behind him. What are you planning? Ah! A gasp escaped his lips making him feel embarrassed. You just barely touched his shoulders. Not even using too much force, just a gentle squeeze to test waters. 

"So, can I give you something that my mom calls a medicine for tired muscles?" 

A simple massage. Just by a single touch you could feel how tense his muscles are. He nods. Being glad you can't see his face now. Biting his bottom lip. He didn't know how much his back actually hurts. Not paying attention to it anymore. But now, he is melting under your touch. 

You try to be gentle but also applying some pressure to help his muscles to relax. You had learned how to massage when you were teen as your mother always had back pain from her work. This was the fastest help, along with pain killers.

Xiao deeply exhales, closing his eyes. He hates to admit it but this feels good, maybe too good. Perhaps he could let his guard down for a bit, at least for now. Letting your skilled fingers caress him. Exhaustion and fatigue is slowly getting under his skin. And this warm feeling, he wants more. Just like when you embraced him a while ago. 

You noticed how much he relaxed under your hands. You can't help it but smile from ear to ear. The mighty Guardian, always so rigid can't endure the pleasant feeling. 

"If you are tired you can sleep over, I don't mind. Unless... you have plans to mess up your back just right when I fix them up?"

You had secretly hoped he wouldn't disappear when you are done. You know when he leaves your place he will go back to his stiff attitude again. 

"Somebody has to keep you safe at night. Take it as a payment..." 

You giggle as he says that. You could tease him about admitting he likes this but decided to rather not.

When you were done and brought him a spare blanket you noticed his blush. Not saying anything and just offering the warm cover. What you did not expect was him grabbing your wrist. 

"Xiao?"

"How can... I keep you safe if you are in the other room?"

Oh damn. Your brain is preoccupied with why he just won't admit he wants to keep you close. 

"Um, you want to move the sofa into my bedroom?" 

He groans. Why you must play dumb now? All he wants is more of your warmth. When you embraced him, when you touched him. He felt at ease  which is new to him. Is it too much to ask for more? Well, maybe he should actually ask and be straight for once.

"Just... stay close." 

"Oh-"

That escalated quickly. For both of you. You decided to spare him from more suffering as you could see his face was slowly turning to tomato color. And you? You weren't much better. Turning off the lights before sliding under the blanket. For once being glad to have a bigger sofa. 

As you are both laying on your sides you feel Xiao's hand hesitantly go over you to pull you closer to him. Don't even think of escaping when he falls asleep. He has you secure. And certainly he won't admit any of this the next morning.

He is tired and confused by his behavior but he decided to blame it on his fatigue. You better don't mention any of this. Not even the way he is having a firm grip of your clothes. Or how quickly he fell asleep.

[iwaisuke]

confessions; but not remembering it

ft. kita shinsuke, sakusa kiyoomi x sick fem!reader

genre: fluff

masterlist

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and then i rushed bc i was getting tired 🙃 also. sakusa's is a little ooc. sorry ab that

-» ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆

» the clean yet musty smell of rain filled the gym as the boys practiced. it was a surprisingly humid and rainy spring day today here in the country side of hyogo

» "achoo" you had been sneezing and coughing all day. you also had a terrible headache but took some medicine to see if it would help. the spring allergies really getting to you

» you didnt reay have the time to be worrying about yourself. As a 2nd year manager of the inarizaki team, (recommend by suna) and the boys working so hard practicing for nationals there was no way you'd let this little cold get in the way. you had to work just as hard as everyone else!

» "hold on, im about to hang up your jerseys to dry"

» "i got you guys some fresh towels!"

» "i can run and grab that coach. im headed that way anyways"

» the coach called for a short break to rest up for a bit. everyone was sore and exhausted from practicing every day. "here. i filled your water bottles up!" handing them to all the boys. "y/n you're all wet" akagi sounded concerned.

» "hm? oh its alright. I'll dry off in a minute. i took the shortcut to the drinking fountain to refill your waterbottles instead of taking the long way" you nonchalantly said. "so you ran through the rain like an idiot?" suna threw a clean towel over your damp hair and ruffled it. "suna!! stop!! you're gonna ruin my hair"

» "like i said. its alright" you reassured the boys.

» kita, on the other hand had noticed your fatigue. although he wasnt as perceptive on peoples feeling and thoughts as well as others, he could easily pick up signs like yours. he admired you dearly for how hard you always work for the team. how you willingly did anything to make them smile. how you always put others first before yours. needless to say, he had a bit of a crush on you.

» "l/n san. i think you should take a break too. there's no need for you to be running around for us while we're resting" kita assured you. "i still have a few things left on my list to do.. but afterwards I'll take a break!" kita let out a sigh. you were stubborn sometimes and kita knew you were the kind of person to not stop until you're finished.

» "I'll be right back. i gotta grab the laundry"

» making an excuse to leave, your heart was beating fast. you knew kita's words were the kind he'd say to anyone, but it made your heart feel fuzzy when he'd look out for you.

» the stone cold captain who you thought he was, actually was so kind. he was just a little awkward like you, and a little blunt with what he said sometimes. but you learned the great qualities he carries and how much he actually cares about others well being. he was a hard worker and you couldnt help but absentmindedly fall for the captain.

» running up the stairs to the second floor of the gym, you felt a shift in your step. head becoming dizzier than it was just 5 minutes ago. legs trembling, you started falling before feeling a presence behind.

» kita's arm wrapped around your waist, supporting you in efforts to not letting you fall over. "i told you to rest l/n san" kita said sternly. "you wont benefit anyone if you keep overworking like this."

» you knew kita was right, but you really didnt want to rest knowing you'll be letting the team down by not working hard.

» "i promise I'll rest as soon as im done with this one thing" pleading with kita. he let out a sigh, knowing you really wouldnt until you did finish so he allowed you to do so.

» finishing grabbing all of the dry jerseys and bringing them downstairs to pass out to everyone, you didnt really notice atsumu and osamu spiking volleyballs at each other until aran yelled

» "y/n! watch out!" honestly, you were too tired to move out of the way so you figured, it do be like that sometimes, and allowed the ball to hit you.

» or... so you had planned the ball to hit you.

» kita stood in front, blocking the impact of the spike that you had prepared yourself for. there was agitation in kita's eyes. more than you usually noticed when then twins were miss behaving. concern washing over, he looked you straight in the eyes

» "... is there something wrong kita san?" lifting up his hand to your forehead, he let out a sigh. "why didnt you tell me earlier you had a fever", then walking over to the coach meanwhile atsumu and osamu come over to apologise for being reckless.

» "get your stuff. we're going home" kita said bluntly.

» "huh? but practice is-"

» "please l/n san. for me"

» kita would only take yes for an answer this time. no if's ands or buts. so here you were, walking home with kita. only the sound of raindrops hitting your shared umbrella being heard.

» muscles starting to ache a little more and your legs becoming more tired than they were when you left the gym, you began to walk a little slower every step

» "get on my back l/n" "its ok kita san, i can walk. its already enough that you're walking me home" "i didnt ask if you wanted to. im telling you to"

» you couldnt tell if it was the fever that made your face warmer or if it was kita's words. nonetheless, you got on kita's back. he was a lot stronger than he looked and you couldnt help but stifen at being so close to your own crush like this.

» "relax. I'll make sure you get home." he reassured. you leaned into his back, warmth seeping in, your eyes began to feel heavy.

» "kita san" "yes?" "thank you for always watching out for me"

» a comfortable silence was met as the sound of rain filled your ears.

» "kita san" "hm?" "did you know..." your voice softened "i like you a lot kita san"

» did he hear you correctly? if he wasnt paying attention he wouldve missed what you had said, being drowed out through the pitter patter of water. now his heart thumping louder than ever before.

» "l/n san-" he was about to go on but was met with the gentle rise and fall of your chest and the soft snores of you on his back, knocked out from exertion. kita let out a light chuckle, finally relieved you were resting.

» you had missed the next day of school, but when you came back the whole volleyball team bombarded you with love.

» "WE'RE A FAILURE TO NOT NOTICE YOU FEELING SICK" atsumu cried. "how could we let our one and only precious manager get ill for taking care of us" akagi, clearly dissapointed in himself. "please let us know when we can take care of you too y/n" aran said.

» "its no big deal. really!" waving your hands in defense. "it was just a small cold. but i do have a question though"

» all the boys gathered around to hear what you had to say

» "how did i get home?? i really dont remember what happened after i almost got hit by atsumu"

» it shocked the guys honestly. you genuinely didnt remember a single thing due to your fever. "wait? you don't remember kita taking you home?" suna replied, your face becoming red. "k-kita san took me home-?" "yah. he left in the middle of practice to do so" osamu added.

» immediately, you got up to find the captain that apparently took you home the other day. he was in the storage closet cleaning and grabbing the equipment for todays practice.

» "kita san" "oh. l/n. glad you're feeling better" his smile brightened the musty closet. "about that, im sorry for troubling you and having you take me home the other day. i honestly dont remember what happened after i almost got hit by atsumu. my mind was really fuzzy that day, but im truly thankful for you going out of your way for me. it really means a lot"

» kita was dumbfounded. you really dont remember? "no need to apologize l/n. it was my responsibility as a captain. and afterall, what good would i be if i couldnt even take care of the person who means the most to me"

» your heart raced. 'person who means the most to me' ? cheeks blushing a rosy pink, you were internally thanking the musty store room from being dim.

» with arms full of equipment, kita walked by you and stopped.

» "by the way l/n san. did you know?"

» ears perking up at the vague yet familiar line

» "i like you a lot too l/n san"

» now we all know sakusa HATES germs and for the past week and a half, he's been telling you to keep up with washing your hands, wearing a mask at all times even when you eat omi it doesnt work like that. pls especially since you are prone to getting sick easily no matter how hygenic you are. your immune system just hated you. PERIODT

» you remembered sakusa scolding you for running out of hand sanitizer and then the next day you were out of commission. bed ridden with laryngitis, cough, slight fever, the whole works. it was like your body was making fun of you or something

» you texted komori, asking him to take notes in class for you and relay homework information while you were at home resting up. but there was one request you had and made komori PROMISE.

» DO NOT TELL SAKUSA YOU GOT SICK

» "he's probably gonna notice your absence y/n. he'll find out about it either way"

» "well if you dont tell him then he wont know. its not like he even cares about where i am like that"

» "thats what you might think. but i know he's gonna say something i can garuntee it"

» the next day at school, sakusa did notice your presence missing. it was quieter not having a 3rd person in the group of friends. not having you around to talk to him when komori was gone.

» pulling out his phone to text you, he asked where you were that day.

» "on a family trip :D !!! forgot to tell you, but I'll tell you all about it when i come back!" you wrote, attaching an old selfie of a different trip you went on to make it more believable.

» you had hoped this silly cold would get better in a day, but soon that day turned into 2 and then 3 and then 4... you pretty much missed the whole week of school at that point

» Friday rolled around and komori was on his phone all day. sakusa noticed his cousin fidget in his chair more than usual and it irked him to see him like that

» "what's with you today?" one eye raised, sakusa finally asked. "uhhh nothing really" komori wasnt very good at keeping secrets lets just start off with that, but he was trying his best.

» "well clearly somethings wrong. you're fidgeting." "well haven't you noticed somethings been different all week?" komori hinted

» sakusa sat there in thought. nothing's been different? he ate the same breakfast he usually does every morning. all his studies have been well. there were no tests this week so there was no reason to be anxious like komori was and even if there was, he would've done well anyways.

» "just tell me what it is." sakusa was starting to get annoyed. "y/n..." komori started. "y/n?" "do you know where she's been this week?"

» did you not tell komori about your family trip? you usually told komori everything, but then again you didn't tell him either until he asked you about it.

» "she said shes on a trip?" he nonchalantly said. komori's eyes started watering. "A TRIP TO THE HOSPITAL THATS WHAT IT IS" he blurted out. komori didnt mean to let it slip , he was just so worried about your well being.

» "hospital?? what are you talking about. did she get injured on her trip?" "no omi. shes been sick all week and her mom just texted me saying she went to the hospital today because shes had a fever for 3 days straight. there is no family trip"

» sakusa's heart shattered. you were sick and didnt even tell him?

» before both he and komori knew it, his legs were running faster to get to the hospital than he had ever imagined he could ever run.

» and there you were. fast asleep in a bed with an IV drip. your face flushed, forehead sweaty and shallow breaths escaping your chapped lips. you were a hot mess but sakusa didnt care. stepping to your bedside to greet your mother she explained to him that she had to go to work and asked if he could watch over you until she gets back.

» sakusa said yes without even hearing the whole thing. his heart and mind saying yes to whatever it took to get you to feel better.

» gosh how he hated hospitals, but what he hated even more was the fact that you were in the hospital and he didnt even know.

» the doctor came in for their evening round and ensured sakusa that you were indeed getting better! your fever had broken not too long ago and your body was working extra hard to heal itself up!

» "is there anything i can do to help?" sakusa asked. he felt helpless in this situation just watching your face distort in uncomfort every now and then, and coughing your lungs out.

» patting sakusa's shoulder, the doctor told him that just being here for you is enough. "you gotta be a strong boyfriend for her alright son? she'll be able to go home tomorrow first thing in the morning if her fever doesnt come back"

» sakusa slumped in his chair at your bedside, the doctors words ringing through his head. 'boyfriend huh?' he thought to himself. "if i was her boyfriend..." he whispered to himself, "i would be a failure for not even knowing my girl was sick..."

» to kiyoomi, you were beautiful. even now in this sad state you were in. deep down he locked these growing feelings he had for you inside of him because he always felt like you were a better match with someone else and after this stunt you pulled of lying to him about going on a family trip, it only made him feel worse.

» it was now night time and you finally began to stir in your sleep, the fever finally gone. sakusa reached out to move some hair that was stuck to your face, fingers tracing the outline of your jaw. your eyes slowly opened and met with his dark orbs.

» "y/n?" "saku- wait this is just a dream. omi wouldn't be here. he hates hospitals" you let out a forced laugh and then a sigh through your sore throat.

» you reached out to sakusa's hands that were resting on the side of your bed. "omi would never let me hold his hand because he'd say im passing germs to him so hopefully dream omi wont be the same" you were aimlessly talking to yourself, not even realizing that this really wasnt a dream.

» he squeezed your hand in return. hoping that you wouldnt let go any time soon. a funny smile appeared on your face just at the thought of him. "even if you're stupid for not realizing how much i like you... i cant wait to see you again omi" you whispered before falling asleep again.

» sakusa didnt know what to do. he sat there frozen in his chair. it was his first time hearing you call him omi. heck. you literally just confessed to the boy. his brain was running wild. groaning in distress he let go of your hand to step out for a breath of fresh air now that you were back asleep.

» it was 5am and your mother came back to the hospital and thanked sakusa for staying by your side. He left in a hurry to make sure you didnt see him there.

» Monday rolled around and sakusa was waiting outside of the school gates for you. he had planned on asking you about your "trip"

» "good morning sakusa!!" your bright and cheery voice rang through his ears. honestly he was trembling inside. the memory of you confessing to him still fresh in his mind.

» "how was your trip?" you stopped dead in your tracks. "haha... it was good !! sorry i forgot to get you a souvenir" you were trying to play it cool but sakusa could tell you were forcing yourself. "i wouldnt want a souvenir from where you came from so its fine" sakusa's words threw you off. "i - im not sure im understanding what you're saying sakusa?"

» you felt a tug on your hand. "dont you mean omi?" his voice husky as he whispered into your ear. cheeks flushed, your brain felt like it short circuted. you've always tried your hardest to not let it slip that you want to call him omi since he hated when people called him that.

» sakusa smirked at your cute reaction he got out of you. letting go of your hand he began to walk into the school leaving you at the gate dumbfounded. "and by the way. you're just as stupid for not realizing how long ive liked you too"

-» ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆

thank you for your order! enjoy~!

[buckyownsmylife]

Halo - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where this time, he was the one to save you.

Warnings: smut, oral sex (f), very light reference to past sexual abuse, vague description of dissociating. 

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: so this is for a request I got for touchstarved!Reader. It ended up becoming much more sentimental than I imagined, so not a lot of my dirty talk or the praise the original request had suggested, but I’m really proud of this work. Hope you guys like it. Shoutout to my cousin @whisperlullaby​​ for beta reading this for me! I love you very much!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

It’d been a week since the man with the blue eyes found me in the darkness. I’d been wary back then, too accustomed to the harsh reality that was all I seemed to remember when I thought about my life, so comfortable in the cold and in the pain that anything else seemed dangerous.

I feared growing used to this new life and having it taken away from me, and he seemed to understand that. Everyone else seemed to empathize with my situation to some extent, but no one looked at me the way that he did. Like my pain was his, too. As if he knew what it was like to have everything about you ripped away, only to be left with new parts that were only useful as a reminder of things you hated.

I didn’t know how to feel about that. Most days, I only felt numb, passively watching life play out from a different window than the cell I’d grown up in. Only the scenes here were lighter, the world certainly brighter than what I thought it was. 

Then some days I felt vibrant, powerful emotions that I didn’t know how to interpret, but he was always there to help me. He seemed to know exactly what I needed, and he let me cry against his chest or hit him as much as I wanted before he scooped me up in his arms and rocked me to some sort of sleep.

I don’t think he knew just how much it meant to me, even if he seemed to understand me so perfectly. Hearing his heartbeat against his chest reminded me that mine was still working inside of me. I was still here. Still alive. Still human. Despite what they did to me.

Today was one of the harder days. The patient man - Bucky, he insisted on reminding me of his name, even if I never tried to address him in any way - must have been busy, because I didn’t see him all day. And so I watched the sky change colours, admiring the view I never got to experience before - at least, not that I could remember - but when he found me, I didn’t feel like I was there anymore. 

I couldn’t explain it if he asked me to, but he didn’t. Once again, he seemed to know exactly what was going through my mind, as I hugged myself by the windowsill. “It gets better, you know?” He asked, kneeling before me as he waited until I managed to tear my eyes away from the landscape out there to see the color of the sky in his eyes.

It took me a while to be able to speak. His presence was overpowering to me in a way that didn’t make me feel defenseless or threatened. It was like he intoxicated me, pushed away the confusion and fear to make me believe in a future where I wouldn’t be like this anymore.

“How do you know?” I had to ask, and when he reached out for my hands, I positioned them inside his much larger palms. The way he rubbed his thumbs on my skin slowly radiated warmth up my body, making me relax against the white wall I was leaning on.

“Because I’ve been there before.” It wasn’t the first time he’d confessed that. Even if the details of his story still weren’t made clear to me, I implicitly knew what he meant, just like he knew I didn’t need to know more right now. It wouldn’t do me any good. I already had a lot of my own trauma to work through and taking his on wouldn't make the healing process any easier.

His words did comfort me, but there was only so much he could do. And so when midnight rolled around and I was still by that same windowsill, each hour having taken a part of me that made me feel like I was still here, in this bedroom, I decided it was time to accept his offer.

Every night, before he retreated to his own quarters, he made sure to remind me that his door was always open for him, just on the other side of the hallway. Four steps and I’d be there. If I ever needed anything. If I ever started to feel like I wasn’t there.

I didn’t need to say it when he heard the knock on his bedroom door. Just two beats and he was there, looking down at me. He stared at me for a moment, and then he was pulling me in, hands running up my arms in a way he hadn’t done before. No one had.

“Come.” I followed him without question, without hesitancy. I knew he had the answers to the questions I was bearing. He was the medicine that I needed, and it seemed like it was finally time to heal.

When we stopped by the foot of his bed, he turned to look me in the eye again, but still didn’t release my hand. There was a question in his gaze, but I couldn’t identify it without his help. So he knew he had to explain it to me.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” I automatically nodded, not understanding why he was asking. No one ever had before. But surprisingly enough, my instinctive reaction had him hesitating. He cradled my face in his hands and dipped my head back so I’d look him directly in the eye.

“I’ll need to touch you where they did.” My muscles tensed at the insinuation, and I knew he didn’t miss it. But it wasn't because of the memory of when I’d been touched before, by hands much less kinder and softer than his - it was by the question.

They never asked. They just took from me, parts of me I’m sure I’d never get to see again. And here was this man, standing before what I’d become, with all these scraps of metal and blood, and he wanted what was left. He didn’t just take it because it was there. He actually wanted it.

I just couldn’t understand why. And so I asked him. The look he gave me was so inexplicable I couldn’t even begin to describe it. He looked like he was physically pained to hear my question, and his thumb rubbed softly over my cheek, almost as if he was the one who needed it to calm himself down.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

I watched her carefully, trying to take in each and every part of her while also capturing the image of her entire person all at once. Was this what she had seen when she rescued me from Hydra’s claws?

I guess now I understood it. Why she stayed, why she cared when I was the broken one. Although we were in very different positions here - I’d fallen in love with her before she was taken, I knew who she really was. But looking at her like this, there was still so much to love. So much of the person I knew, but even the new parts were beautiful too.

“Because I know you need it.” It was the first reason I could think of, but nowhere near the only one. “Because you’re beautiful. Because… I’m the reason you’re this way. And I want to make you feel good again.”

When I leaned down to connect our lips, I didn’t expect it to feel this way. Sweet and innocent, like a true first kiss, regardless of the context, regardless of our entire history together. She didn’t remember it anyway. And so I was gentle, scared to scare her away, needing this almost as much as I knew she needed it.

I remembered what it was like to get out of that hole. I remembered how she pried me away from the fortress I’d built around myself, with soft hands and sweet smiles, until I was tender enough to accept her touch without panicking.

She whimpered when I pulled away from the kiss, and I couldn’t stop the smile that painted my lips at this clear sign that I was making the right choice. This was what she needed, and my touch would bring her comfort. I didn’t have to feel guilty about it.

But still, the feeling was there, bringing bile to my stomach as I kissed down her neck and slowly took her dress with me. Seeing her naked was enough to get me hard - being near her was enough to get me aroused - even if this wasn’t about me. I just couldn’t help it. To be near her again, have the scent of her skin, the taste of her so near me was enough to make my head swirl.

And when I looked up, there were conflicting emotions on her eyes too. Like being naked reminded her of those memories I wish I could erase, but my position elicited another feeling in her, one she couldn’t easily identify.

It was desire. I could never miss that glint in her eyes, because it provoked my body into an instinctive reaction, like it knew what was to come. It knew what I needed to do to satisfy both me and her.

And I wanted her. I wanted to bury myself in her and feel connected again, to finally acknowledge that she was really here, that I got her back. I wanted to occupy her thoughts with feelings provoked by me, just so all she felt was pleasure and nothing else, not the horrors of Hydra, just love and desire.

I needed to distract her, help her reacquaint herself with her own body. Even though I desperately wanted to fuck her pain away, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. I needed to give her cells the human warmth they so desperately needed.

I knew she needed this. I remembered what it was like to be in this exact position. And this was as impactful to her as it was to me, I realized as I watched her body twitch at the simple action of my hands spreading her legs further apart. It gave me an opportunity to reacquaint myself with her body, even if she wasn’t exactly mine again.

That day would come, I had to believe it. I thought I’d lost her forever, but I managed to find her. She was here now. I just needed to be patient. I needed to bide my time as she slowly readjusted to the real world, and hopefully then we’d get back to where we once were.

But I think no one could blame me for getting carried away. The second my tongue touched her, her knees faltered, and I had to lean her back on the bed just so I could properly lick her lower lips, collect some of her wetness so I could relish in the taste of her again. 

She was too perfect, too beautiful for words, as were the little sounds she released, little gasps and half-moans that she didn’t feel comfortable letting free just yet, but I could work with that. They were enchanting all the same.

It was easy to lose myself to the habit of it all. Swirling her clit, dipping my tongue in her warm hole, slurping every single drop of her juices as they dripped out of her. I’d always loved pleasing her. Being able to do it again was nothing short of a blessing in itself. And although I was dying to feel her hands on me, I knew she needed my touch more than I needed hers.

So I let my hands travel upwards, squeezing her breasts when I managed to reach them. That earned me another gasp and a jut of her hips, making me hum against her pussy. Delicious. It was sweet seeing her like this, so innocent, so uncertain. I was used to her being the one with more initiative - at least at first. It felt like I was unveiling a new side of her I hadn’t had the luck to know before we met.

It only made me hungrier.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I’d never been worshipped before. Or at least, I couldn’t remember anything ever coming close to this. He seemed completely devoted to me and this sinful act we were partaking in, but it didn’t seem that sinful with him.

No, it was almost holy, the way he was breaking me apart by glueing me together. His tongue spread out the liquid that seemed to pour from me, and was now covering the lower part of his face and the insides of my thighs. I had no doubt it was slowly coating the sheets underneath us, but if he wasn’t worried, then neither was I.

Just like he seemed to know what I needed without me verbalizing it, it was clear that he knew what I liked without even trying. And something inside of me told me that I had missed this, this sweet act of passion I couldn’t remember ever receiving, this feeling I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt before.

But when he asked me to watch him, I understood it. I understood it because I saw it in his eyes. This was some ancient ritual and we both had shared it before, in this life or in another one, I didn’t know. I didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was giving this to me now, teaching me that this body was here and it was mine, and it was capable of so much more than pain and violence.

With each swipe of his tongue, he taught me lessons I’d never uncovered by myself. And even so, he had the nerve to ask, in that poisonously sweet voice of his, “Does it feel good, doll?”

He knew it did. He had to know, because I couldn’t say it. And I didn’t know what else to do, either. I knew he expected something from me - I expected something from me, every part of my body was tense and taut, waiting for a snap to undo me completely, but I didn’t know how to let go.

“Don’t worry, I can wait,” was his only response. “It’s alright,” he whispered, face still hidden by my own body. “You’re right where you belong. I’ll bring you here anytime.” And this was the promise that had my world crashing down, and as it crashed, it clenched, thrashed, and throbbed and I couldn’t breathe. 

But I didn’t feel broken.

I was shaking when the waves let me resurface, and when he pulled away, panic threatened to make me scream or lose my voice altogether. Would he just leave me here?

The separation wasn’t long, despite my fear. He came back to bed completely naked and gently cradled me to his chest, and in the warmth of his skin against mine, I felt better than ever before.

“You’re staying with me from now on,” he reassured me in the hug. And entwined as we were, skin to skin, heart to heart, soul to soul, I knew I’d finally be able to sleep again.

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

(Because you know I’m all here for Bobby being forcibly perceived against his will) lobby or boggie nightmares/talking in his sleep

hi this is also sickfic because it’s you <3 ao3 link in the reblogs!!

i didn’t know just where i’d fall | 1.6k | lukebobby (platonic or romantic)

--

Luke's awoken in the middle of the night by Bobby muffling a sound into his pillow and kicking, hitting Luke in the back of the leg.

At first, Luke just feels disoriented, and mildly annoyed. It's very late (or potentially very early), and cold, and Luke has been sleeping poorly anyway out here in the studio instead of at home in his real bed, so he can forgive himself for starting out a little grouchy.

But then he registers the fact that Bobby's movement woke him up.

Registers that Bobby is sweaty and sticky and cold where his shoulder presses to Luke's, enough that Luke shifts back, feels his skin un-stick from Bobby's, and it's kinda gross but mostly concerning. Luke vaguely remembers Bobby looking exhausted the evening before, how Luke tried to kick him out to go back to his actual bedroom and Bobby had grunted, said, yeah, will soon and Luke had dozed off soon afterward. Now, Bobby’s whole body looks so tense, Luke sees as his eyes adjust to the dark, as Bobby twitches and kicks again, smaller this time, so Luke can dodge. Bobby's fist clenches in the blanket and he makes another sound — almost like a whimper.

The panic sets in, like ice down the back of Luke's shirt.

Obviously, he can see what the problem is. It's just a matter of what to do about it. But Luke isn't Alex, doesn't overthink things (sometimes doesn't even do the 'think' part, without the 'over'), so while it takes him a second to remember if not waking someone up is the rule for nightmares or sleepwalking, he's pretty sure it's the rule for sleepwalking. So he sits himself up, ready to flinch back if Bobby accidentally takes a swing at him, and says, "Bobby?" Then, a little louder, "Bobby!"

He gets no response. Bobby's breathing hard, but Luke still can't see his face, where it's buried in his pillow. After a moment, he assumes it didn't work. When Bobby makes another one of those awful, vulnerable sounds from the back of his throat, like nothing Luke has ever heard from him before, and Luke can't take it, the way his stomach lurches and his chest hurts at the sound. With as much strength as he can muster, he shoves Bobby's shoulder, hard.

Bobby gasps, coughs, scrambles, and sits up with a start, pressing himself up on one hand. His other arm shoots out and Luke was right to be ready to dodge, but the swing has no real direction, no heat, and Luke easily moves out of the way. Like it was muscle memory more than anything. Or like Bobby was aiming for something else, something that's not there anymore.

His face looks awful. He's way too pale, but flushed somehow, and he's covered in sweat, and trembling, and his eyes are wide. Now that Luke looks, really looks, in this light, he can see the dark bags under Bobby's eyes, the strain in his jaw as he clenches his teeth.

Then Luke remembers who he's dealing with. "Hey," he says, and does his best to keep his tone light and friendly, instead of terrified, and he succeeds on no counts because he's the world's worst liar. "You... okay?"

Bobby blinks, slow, like he's still trying to process what he's seeing, kinda like he's staring right through Luke. Then he blinks again, and looks... well, horrified, for just a moment, and then almost blank, like he used a towel to hurriedly wipe the expression off his own face.

"Fine," Bobby gets out sharply, and tries to push himself up further so he can get out of the bed, but he's shaking so badly that Luke instinctively reaches out a hand to steady him. Bobby really does feel warm, even through his shirt sleeve.

"You don't look fine," Luke mutters. Feels how Bobby's shoulders go tight and wishes he could eat those words right back up because it's Bobby he's dealing with, and he should know better. Less confident, Luke follows up, "Dude, what happened?"

"I just —" Bobby starts, and then stops, slumping back a little as his trembling arm gives way. "It's nothing," insists Bobby, and Luke would ignore it, but Bobby's tone is on the verge of pleading, and he ends it by coughing more into his elbow, a horrible, wet thing that makes Luke flinch back instinctively.

"Okay," says Luke, holding both his hands up in surrender. "Okay. Uh." Shit, what would Alex do? Luke’s own instinct is to flee, because there’s Feelings and Someone Being Sick and Gross involved, but he knows that’s not what Alex would do; Alex would suggest something helpful, without being too pushy, like… "You, uh. You want a shower?"

Bobby hesitates, and then grunts something semi-positive, shoving his sweaty hair out of his eyes and pulling the back of his hand across his nose. Takes a deep breath. When he gets up, he still seems shaky, and Luke can see the way his damp shirt sticks to his back.

They cooperate in silence. Luke runs the shower, gets it to a moderate temperature that hopefully isn’t too hot or too cold, though he knows he runs a little hot personally so he could be off. When Bobby gets in, he makes a groaning sound, and Luke hurriedly tells him, “Don’t change it, okay!”

He hesitates, not wanting to tell Bobby he thinks Bobby has a fever, because Bobby will get bitey and deny it immediately, do whatever he can to prove it’s not the case even if it means showering in hot water. So he doesn’t elaborate, and Bobby doesn’t protest. Luke digs around in the little bathroom in the studio for the spare towel he hasn’t really touched since he moved in, and leaves it on the counter.

Then, he goes out to rummage through his bag of belongings that he scavenged together before turning up on Bobby’s doorstep in the middle of the night a few weeks ago. He’s sure he has some flu medication in here somewhere, some Alex gave him the first day he moved out, when he turned up and angrily started slamming down a variety of bare necessities that Luke obviously needs, you moron on the table.

He also fetches a bottle of half-finished water from beside his guitar stand, and when he returns to the bathroom, Bobby has wrapped himself in the towel and is leaning on the counter wearily. His hair is wet with water, now, and he’s a slightly better colour, but the dark rings under his eyes are extra-pronounced. Luke offers him the water and the medicine, and Bobby raises his eyebrows, sceptical.

Luke does his best puppy-dog eyes. Please don’t fight me on this, he asks silently, because if Bobby gets worse Luke is going to panic and call an ambulance or something. Bobby rolls his eyes with a sigh and swipes the pills and bottles out of Luke’s hands. After he’s downed them, Luke says, “Should we… do you want to go back to bed?”

“No,” Bobby says, too fast. But his legs almost give and he fumbles to grab at the counter with one hand, Luke’s shoulder with the other.

“Yeah, okay,” says Luke, a little panicked, “let’s at least lie down.”

He helps Bobby back to the couch-bed, easing him down onto it. Bobby leans back against the pillows and huffs out a sigh.

Luke hops in next to him again, where he was before. Glances sideways at Bobby, whose eyelids are already drooping, but his jaw is gritted tight. They lie there for a few minutes, and Luke watches Bobby repeatedly doze off and then wake himself back up with force, shifting around and rubbing at his face. He looks so tired, more so as the flu medication must set in, his eyes going a little fuzzy and far-away, and so uncomfortable, and despite the help of the shower, Luke can feel the warmth radiating off him a little too much still.

“I think you should sleep,” Luke murmurs.

“Don’t wanna,” Bobby says, slurred. The flu medication was admittedly the strong stuff. And he’s still feverish.

Luke bites his lip. It’s so hard to make these kinds of calls, but it might be his only chance to ask, to make sure. So, he takes the chance. “Because of the dream?” he asks, swallowing his nerves down and keeping his voice relatively steady.

Bobby pauses, but only for a moment, to sniffle a little miserably. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Scared.”

It hurts Luke’s chest. Bobby’s never like this, never vulnerable or soft, is always the one who knows what to do. And if it’s not Bobby, it’s Alex. It’s never Luke left to manage these situations, because he’s too empathetic and too bad at understanding other people at the same damn time. “Can – shit, man, can I help?”

Bobby shakes his head this time, and curls closer to Luke, like he wants to … like he wants to cuddle up, but isn’t quite that bold. Luke breathes and opens his arms, an invitation. Almost right away, Bobby snuggles close, exhaling too-hot breath into Luke’s chest, tucking his head under Luke’s chin. He’s never seen Bobby like this, never expected to. But there’s something sweet about it, even if Luke feels bad for him.

“Just try and sleep,” Luke mutters, runs a hand up and down Bobby’s back, tries to think of what makes him feel better when he feels unwell and not about how likely it is that he’ll get sick after this, or about how cagey and embarrassed Bobby will be if he remembers any of this clearly tomorrow. Right now, though, Bobby shivers and relaxes against him with a little hoarse cough. He seems so much smaller than usual, but he isn’t nearly as tense as he was before. “I’m here. I gotcha.”

--

jatp taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed!): @queenmolina @nickalicious @bi-reginald @malecacidd @burntchromas @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @cinnamonstickrayofsunlight @chickwiththepurpleguitar @fairylightsandrainydays @joyandthephantoms @fighttoshine @michelangelinda @queenofthequillandink @random-nerd-3 @silent-silver-slip @apolo81 @evashmz @bagoffriedrice

[sylvanfreckles]

Fever Dreams

Summary: Castiel caught a bad chest cold and Sam stayed behind to look after him.

Just some soft times with these two, because I don't give them enough time together.

The Flare 'Verse, if you're not familiar with it, started Here and continued Here. Basically, Cas is human because Naomi burned his grace out in a ritual to elevate herself to a higher level. It's left him with scars and chronic pain, and the Winchesters are doing their best to take care of him. I'm still working on the first chronological story, but this one grabbed me and wouldn't let go.

...

Sam looked up from his book as the blankets on the bed rustled. He waited for a few seconds until the figure in the bed shifted around again, then set his book aside and gently pulled the blankets down enough to reveal Cas's tousled hair and pinched face.

He rested the back of his hand on the ex-angel's forehead, frowning a little at the temperature, then carded his fingers through the dark hair until he reached Cas's neck. The muscles there were tight, and Sam gently rubbed his thumb back and forth while he half-sat on the bed to be closer.

“Just a dream, Cas,” he murmured. “You're home safe. Just a dream.” It was just the two of them in the bunker at the moment—Dean was on a case, Eileen was meeting up with some old friends, and Jack was still trying to find something to help Cas's condition.

A sympathetic smile crept across his face when Cas's eyes cracked open, only to turn to a grimace of concern when the dark-haired man started coughing.

“Up you get, come on.” He slid one arm behind Cas's shoulders and gently pulled the other man up, then fumbled for the box of tissues to pass a handful to Cas.

The ex-angel might have muttered his thanks, but the tissues were pressed against his mouth as he leaned against Sam and coughed. Sam winced in sympathy and gently rubbed his friend's back, careful to avoid the sensitive scars left by Naomi's ritual.

“Ready to eat something?”

Cas shook his head and just leaned his weight against Sam. They didn't know if it was because of the way his grace had been burned out of him or just a consequence of taking human form, but Cas had trouble maintaining his body temperature now. He usually ended up curled up against the closest warm thing, whether that be a heating pad or a Winchester.

“C'mon, Cas,” Sam pleaded. “If you don't eat something Dean will never leave us alone again. He texted a dozen times while you were asleep, I'm surprised he didn't ask for a picture so he could make sure I was tucking you in the right way.”

That earned him a snort of laughter, and Sam gently pushed himself off the bed and started to lay Cas back down. “I'll bring you something, okay?”

“Wait,” Cas, voice still crackling with congestion, caught Sam's sleeve in one hand. “Not here.”

Sam raised his eyebrows high enough that he felt his hairline shift. “You need to rest, Cas. This is the best place for that.”

Cas shifted uncomfortably and stared up at Sam, somehow managing to look far too pathetic, even for a chronically ill ex-angel with a chest cold. “I need to move. I feel...confined.”

He understood that, a little. Dean could be a mother hen sometimes, and a chest cold rarely needed strict bedrest. Besides, the TV room had a deep, comfortable couch now, and Cas could rest there.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Sam offered as he helped tug the blankets away from Cas's legs. “We've still got the rest of that documentary series on deep-sea plant and animal life.”

They'd been actually really fun to watch together. When he'd been an angel, Cas had liked to venture to the depths of the ocean to study the patterns of life there, and there had been a few times he'd actually recognized the filming locations from personal experience. Sam had also ordered another set of documentaries on the ancient world, but that was mostly so Cas could point out the errors and explain everything the archaeologists were getting wrong. It was one of the things Dean rolled his eyes about and called them nerds, but they were all secretly pleased to see Cas's enthusiasm after those first long months of pain.

Sam started to hook his arm under Cas's legs to carry him out of the room, but the ex-angel waved him off and scooted to the edge of the bed on his own. So Sam stood back and held his arm out, bent at the elbow, so Cas could use it to pull himself to his feet and steady himself to walk.

“How is Dean?” Cas asked as they shuffled down the hall.

“He's pretending to be mad it's the library that's haunted and not the gym,” Sam said with a shake of his head. Dean took it personally when kids were in danger, and word of a poltergeist at a middle school had him out the door in less than an hour. “I think he's more relieved it's a spirit and not a psychic phenomenon.”

“And no one's around for his Ghostbusters references,” Cas added blandly.

Sam had to laugh. “Those too. 'Imagine, Sammy, a ghost in a library and it's not even an old lady',” he said, pitching his voice a little lower to imitate his brother.

“'He slimed me',” Cas whined, though it dissolved into a cough and they had to pause while the ex-angel caught his breath. “'They're here' might be more appropriate.”

“He's got to stop making you watch those movies,” Sam shook his head as they squeezed through the door to the TV room (not Dean Cave. Never calling it that). “This whole 'Hunting 101', it's not how it works. Real hunting isn't anything like that.”

Cas didn't answer until he was settled on one side of the u-shaped couch, sitting up in one corner so he was facing the TV with his legs stretched out along one leg of the couch.

“Isn't that what makes it entertaining?” he finally asked, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and leaning back into the cushions.

Sam bit back his first reaction. This was Cas. Cas had been an angel for millennia before his grace had been torn out of him and left him with this frail mortal body. As much as his friend might seem innocent or naive at times, he still knew how to separate fact from fiction. “Sorry.”

“Just don't let Jack see them,” Cas continued, and Sam had to laugh at that. God...or demi-god? Elevated nephilim? Something more? Anyway, powerful though Jack might be, Sam wasn't sure he could ever see him as more than that wide-eyed kid who just wanted his father.

“I'll be right back,” he promised, patting Cas on the shoulder. There would be cream of chicken soup and apple slices in the fridge, and that would be enough to satisfy Dean the next time his older brother checked in.

Maybe.

…

They were forty-five minutes into a documentary about the Great Barrier Reef when Sam noticed Cas was shifting uncomfortably in his place on the couch.

“Cas?” Sam paused the movie and half-turned on the couch to study his friend. “You okay? Need to go back to bed?” He was sitting beside him, close enough to touch if Cas needed help, but did his best to make sure his friend didn't feel too crowded.

Cas shook his head, but Sam could still tell something was wrong. He had drank the entire mug of soup and eaten almost all of the apple slices Sam had brought, so he probably wasn't hungry. He wasn't due for more cold medicine for over an hour. “Do you need to use the bathroom?”

There was a heavy sigh, then Cas slumped against the couch. “It's cold.”

Cold. They'd learned to hate that word. If Cas got too cold he could have one of those awful flares of pain, and end up curled up and miserable for hours. They tried to head it off by tucking him back in bed with hot water bottles and heating pads, but he'd actually been enjoying sitting on the couch to watch a movie so Sam was reluctant to pack him away in his isolated bedroom.

“Hang on, here.” Sam scooted closer and tugged Cas's blanket free. He slid one arm behind his friend's back and tucked Cas in close against him before spreading the blanket back over the two of them. “One Winchester heating pad, at your service.”

“Sam...”

“Hey, I have body heat to spare,” Sam teased. “Come on.”

Cas was still reluctant. “You might get sick.”

“I might get it anyway,” he replied. “Colds get passed around, Cas, that's the truth of it.”

There were a few more seconds of hesitation, then Cas practically melted against him. They spent a few moments rearranging themselves on the couch, ending up with Sam propping one foot on the side of the couch next to Cas's legs with his arm around Cas's shoulders, and Cas leaning his head on Sam's shoulder until his hair almost brushed the tall hunter's neck.

“This isn't personal space?” Cas asked. He probably didn't mean to sound so pathetic, it was just the cold making his voice croak like that.

“I don't have personal space,” Sam joked. “You think I could live in the car with Dean for so long if I did?”

Cas seemed to consider that, then nodded and seemed to relax even further against Sam. “He's very sensitive about such things,” he murmured sleepily.

“What's that?”

In answer, Cas mumbled something into Sam's collarbone. Sam glanced down, grinning when he realized Cas had fallen asleep almost as soon as they'd gotten re-settled. He left the documentary paused and reached for his book, figuring it was time to get a few more chapters in.

His phone buzzed on the couch beside him and he picked it up, seeing yet another text from Dean.

“Hey, Dean wants to know how you're feeling,” he whispered to Cas.

Cas grunted, face still buried in Sam's shoulder. “Sie koennen hier nicht Baseball spielen.”

Sam bit back a snort of laughter. “No baseball,” he agreed. Cas talking in other languages in his sleep was nothing new, though at least it was German this time and Sam could almost understand him. He texted back that Cas had eaten and was sleeping, then after another moment's thought held the camera out and took a selfie.

He looked the picture over with a smile before sending it off to Dean. In it Sam was leaning back against the couch with a big grin on his face, and Cas had his face squashed into Sam's shoulder, already sleeping so hard he was practically drooling.

Setting the phone face-down on the couch, he picked his book back up and ignored the repeated vibrations of his brother's reply messages. Cas was all right, Dean needed to focus on his case, and he really wanted to get through another chapter or two before he had to wake Cas for his next dose of medicine.

“No baseball,” he repeated, squeezing Cas's shoulders in a sideways hug. “Just get some rest.”

...

End notes:

The first two quotations Sam and Cas say are from the first Ghostbusters movie, and the second one Cas says is from the Poltergeist movie.

“Sie koennen hier nicht Baseball spielen.” - rough German translation of "You can't play baseball here". I used an online translator, so I apologize if it's incorrect. It's not a line from anything, I just wanted some random dream-talk. (Now corrected thanks to the lovely @slipper007! I couldn't do accents in my word processor, so thanks for the alternate spelling! I'll remember that!)

[binunus]

my tylenol when i’m in pain | moon bin

a/n when I got this request, the title of it literally came to me instantly so if you want some cute mood music while reading, listen to lemonade by jeremy passion sksksksk, 

thank you to the cutie who requested this !! I hope your migraines feel better love ❤️ you’re cranking up binnie on my bias list 👀

{request: i get really bad chronic migraines sometimes and I was wondering if you could write something where bin takes care of his s/o when they're not feeling well. if you're okay with that :)}

genre: the fluffiest

word count: 2.2k ________________________________________________

Your POV

It was absolutely beautiful outside. The previous night’s snowfall left a pristine blanket of white on the street. You looked outside your window to see several kids making snowmen or engaging in snowball fights.

Ahh the innocent ideal of the youth.

You wished you could go outside and join in on the winter festivities without any care in the world, but alas being a working adult crushed those wishes any day. And it didn’t help that you felt like complete shit right now. 

For the past week and a half, you were working nonstop on a project that had a heavy deadline submission which ended yesterday. You barely completed it on time, sacrificing your well-loved sleep and meals to have a presentable end product. 

If you were back in high school or college, your stamina could have easily bounced back from the lack of sleep and nutrition, but your body couldn’t handle the neglect right now—and the cold weather only catalyzed your impending sickness.

Trudging back to bed, you winced as you tried to make yourself comfortable under the covers, muscles aching with every movement. You were at least thankful that your boss granted everyone an off-day today because of the snow, giving you one less thing to worry about in your list of priorities.

Faintly, you heard the jingle of keys from your front door, a tinge of excitement filling you at your guest.

“Baby?”

“In my room.”

“Shit, you sound so weak.” Your boyfriend frowned as he entered your bedroom, removing his hat and coat and placing it on the table by your desk. He walked over to where you were laying, leaning down for a kiss when you ducked under the covers, “Binnie, I don’t wanna get you sick.”

He let out a chuckle, removing the blanket from covering your face and stealing a kiss anyway. You scrunched your nose up, “If you get sick, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ll take my chances, baby.” Bin said with a smile, taking a seat at the side of your bed. He softly caressed your hair, “Hmm, how are you feeling?”

“A bit better now that you’re here,” You said trying to sound positive, “but if you’re asking me physically? Terrible.”

“Have you eaten?? What about a shower? Taking one helps a lot, and it makes you feel clean.” Bin nagged, thumb rubbing your cheek. You pouted, lightly shaking your head, “I’m not hungry, and it hurts too much when I move. Maybe later Binnie, my head really hurts right now and I just wanna close my eyes.”

He nodded, immediately standing up to go over to the other side of the bed. Bin crawled into bed next to you, arm hooking under your shoulder as you turned to hug his waist, snuggling as close to him as you could get. He kissed your forehead sweetly, humming a little song as you started to get comfortable, his chest as your pillow. Rubbing your arm gently as he sang, it took you only a couple minutes before your breathing evened out, the pounding of your head dulling as sleep overtook you.

Bin nuzzled his nose in your hair, your scent giving him a fluttery feeling in the base of his stomach. A little nap with you was too good to pass at the moment. Just fifteen minutes, Bin thought as he closed his eyes, feeling his body relax against yours.

After a little while, Bin found himself stirring awake, much to his dismay because he loved his sleep. Blinking the drowsiness away, he glanced at you to see that you were still deeply in slumber, soft snores coming out of your mouth. He smiled unable to stop himself from pressing a kiss to your cheek. He almost felt bad untangling himself from your hold at the risk of waking you up.

Carefully, he got up and out of bed, making sure that you were still tucked in before heading to the kitchen, closing the door quietly as he left. Bin let out a huge yawn as he washed his hands in the kitchen sink, getting ready to prep some ingredients for the soup he was about to make. 

Bin played some music on his phone as he cooked, loud enough to give him entertainment, but at a volume so that it wouldn’t disturb you. He was pretty proud of himself after finishing the chicken soup, plating the bowl nicely on one of your bedside trays with some medicine and a glass of water. Bin even cleaned up the pots he used for cooking, knowing that it was better for him to wash it now while he still had the motivation. And there was no way that he would let you lift a finger while he was here taking care of you.

After washing his hands again, Bin went back into your bedroom, tray in hand. He set it down briefly on your table to wake you up, tapping your shoulder. “y/n? Wake up baby.” 

You groaned, eyes still closed as you turned in your bed, back facing your boyfriend. “5 more minutes.”

“Baby, the soup’s gonna get cold. C’mon, you have to eat even a little bit.” He reasoned, pulling the blanket so that your upper half was exposed. You nodded drowsily, struggling as you tried to sit up. Bin smiled, propping some pillows up for you to sit against. “I made chicken soup, after you eat take some medicine okay?”

“Okay,” You nodded slowly with your eyes closed, moving your hair to the back as Bin brought the tray over. Your headache wasn’t as strong as before, but your body still felt like it was throbbing a little, hopefully eating and the medicine would help cure you a bit. 

“Do you want me to feed you?” Bin teased, half jokingly but also you knew he would if you really asked him to. Again, you nodded opening your mouth obediently. Grinning, he took a spoonful of broth, making sure to blow on it so that it wouldn’t be too hot before feeding you. “You’re so cute, y/n. You really are my baby, hm?”

“Mm I’m sick,” You said finally opening your eyes, sleep still heavy on your lids. You weren’t really disagreeing with him though. “That’s really good Binnie, I can feel my sinuses clearing up a little.”

“I made it with love,” He said cutely, leaning over to kiss you quickly on the lips. You let out an amused chuckle, letting his greasy comment slide as you opened your mouth for more. 

The two of you conversed easily as he fed you, catching you up on the latest drama at his work and with his friends. Although Bin made the soup for you, you made sure that he filled his hunger a little bit too, making him finish the rest of the bowl when you felt full. He praised you like a child when you took your medicine and finished the glass of water, it was a bit endearing if you were honest. “Do you need anything right now? How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay baby, thank you.” You said getting comfortable again under the covers. “Cuddle??”

“I’ll just put this away and then I’m all yours.” Bin nodded with a smile, going to the kitchen once more. After a couple minutes, he returned with a towel and a bowl of water.

“I thought we were gonna cuddle?” You pouted looking at him. Laughing, he dipped the towel in the bowl and wrung out the water, bringing it to you and placing it on your forehead. “We are baby, let me just try and bring your fever down a bit, your skin’s burning.”

You nodded, your body basically dead weight as he helped you sit up again, cooling your skin with the damp towel. You hummed in satisfaction, the cold cloth a nice comparison to your hot skin. “We might as well have just taken a bath.”

“Do you want to?” He asked rubbing the towel around your back. “Bath and then cuddle after?”

“Mhm,” You said removing the blanket and getting up, Bin holding your waist as you two walked to the bathroom. He told you to wait a minute as he turned on the water, checking the temperature as it filled up the bathtub. After deeming that the water was at a good amount, Bin started to strip himself of his clothing, stepping into the tub soon after. “Do you want my help, baby?”

“In your dreams,” You quipped removing your shirt. “Keep your hormones at bay, Binnie, my sick body won’t allow it.”

Your boyfriend chuckled, grabbing his phone from the counter and playing some music. “You know sex can help with removing sickness, y/n?”

“Uh huh, ask me that question again tomorrow and we’ll see how I respond.” You said getting in the tub and nestling between his legs. You shivered a little as your skin made contact with the water, leaning back against Bin’s chest for warmth. He grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You relaxed in the cage of Bin’s arms, resting your head against his chest as he began to sing along to the song that was playing on his phone, rubbing the belly softly under the water. The two of you sat like that for a while, you cooling down in silence, content with listening to Bin’s voice. 

“Sit up for a second baby, let me wash your hair.” He said, lifting his arms from your body and reaching for your shampoo. He squeezed a generous amount onto his hand, first massaging it into your hair before using the leftover for his own. It was a bit of a struggle to wash away all the suds, the size of your bathtub barely enough to fit both you and Bin comfortably, but you somehow made it work. After deciding that dunking you both under water to rinse off the shampoo clearly wasn’t the right idea, Bin grabbed the shower head and opted for that instead, giggles coming from the both of you.

“Ah Binnie!” You whined as he started to tickle your sides, your boyfriend laughing as he drenched your head with water. “I’m cleansing you of your sickness, baby!”

That cycle repeated again, this time with conditioner, and by the time the two of you were done with your bath-turned-shower, the floor surrounding the tub was wet from all the splashes and Bin’s use of the detachable shower head. 

You shivered, arms hugging your body as Bin grabbed two towels, drying himself off first before doing the same to you. “I could have dried myself, baby.”

“I’m here taking care of you, and that includes drying you.” He shook his head. You chuckled, unsure of his logic but let him do as he pleased anyway. Bin smiled, eyes formed into crescent moons as he dried your hair, gently shaking the towel all over your head. Laughing, you went on your tiptoes, arms locking around his neck as you kissed him. He made a sound of contentment, moving his lips in tune with yours as his hands dropped down to your waist, leaving the towel on the top of your head. 

After a minute or so, you pulled away, a giggle leaving you as you saw Bin’s pout. You pecked his lips again briefly, before grabbing the towel and drying your hair again. Bin made sure to thoroughly dry the floor before the two of you went back to your bedroom. He changed into some shorts that he left at your place, deciding to forego a shirt since he usually chose not to sleep with one anyway. You, on the other hand, slipped on Bin’s shirt and a pair of pajama shorts, climbing immediately in bed after your hair was decently dry. 

He came to join you after getting another glass of water, encouraging you to drink it all before he cuddled you, knowing that the two of you were going to end up napping again. You finished the glass with ease, placing it on your bedside table, and turning to your boyfriend. He smiled, wrapping his arms around you again as the two of you laid down, finding yourselves in the same position as when he first came over earlier. “How are you feeling now, baby?”

“Honestly? Better.” You said, lips brushing against his clavicle. The medicine kicked in by now, but you were sure that Bin also had a lot to do with your slow recovery. “You’re all the medicine I need, baby.”

He let out a high-pitched cackle, squeezing your body a little tighter as he kissed your forehead. “If I get sick, will you be my medicine?”

“Of course,” You grinned, the tips of your fingers lazily drawing figures on his abdomen. “I love you Binnie, thank you for taking care of me.”

“I’ll always take care of you, y/n.” He said softly, taking in your scent as he closed his eyes. “I love you too.”

You drifted off to sleep listening to his breathing, a deep slumber overtaking you. By the next morning, you woke up feeling loads better, your temperature now at a normal level and your headache mostly gone. You turned your head to see Bin still sleeping, a smile on your face as you craned your neck to kiss his cheek. You sighed, relaxing yourself in his hold before closing your eyes again, sleeping for a little longer wouldn’t hurt. Especially if Bin was by your side.

__________________________________________

2-2-21

[sugar-petals]

BTS Scenario: Taking Care of Them When They Have a Cold

↳ ♡ NOTE ⇁ time for fluff. autumn season is coming, let me set the mood right here, we’re going cozy 🍂

warnings ⚠️ hurt/comfort, brief mention of sexual tension

⌈jimin⌋ ⇢ Jimin’s cold is unusually subtle. In terms of visible signs, it’d take some time to notice it for someone who doesn’t know him or doesn’t check just how heavy another person’s breath is going. But feedback? You will definitely get. Compared to how he’s pouting about it, which will melt your heart is what I’m saying, the symptoms are understated in comparison to the other members. Taehyung’s cough can shatter an entire neighborhood, Jimin sneezing is as graceful as a gazelle. Mind you, his nose is runny, and the slight fatigue of the first two days isn’t negligible, but the major thing to actively mend is more psychological than physical. In other words, his body does its thing, you don’t have to overextend yourself. 

That’s what you have to figure out first to really take care of him properly. After laying him down and bringing both snacks and liquids, talking is what he needs rather than ten thousand types of medications and cool towels all over him. Jimin doesn’t want to see you become sick as well so you don’t sit up close, but at talking range, and you text a lot during the day while you work. He’s worried about not being able to practice and hopes the cold doesn’t show in his appearance. You assure him it takes five days at best and he is okay again and promise a lot of kisses. With that prospect, healing is even sweeter. And, you know the guy, Jimin misses seducing you, so.

⌈taehyung⌋ ⇢ Absolutely enjoys being babied ten times out of ten. Nothing better than you preparing a hot herbal bath. Rosemary, thyme, camomile. The steam spiraling off the water surface looks so relaxing in the candlelight, the classical music you put on sways him into a trance, he lays there for half an hour just motionless. He gets a little tray of coconut cookies on the bed stand, you play the guitar to him, you massage his feet before he sleeps… Which, and he hates admitting it, makes it nice to be sick. By all means not because of the fever, but the extra attentions, the hot chocolate for bed. Taehyung thinks about that twice and concludes something. He doesn’t want to get a cold just to receive this treatment. Not for his own health nor to worry or overwhelm you, he’s not gonna guilt-trip you into being a servant. 

So, you agree for later: It’s good to treat him sporadically just because, whenever and wherever, cue Shakira. That Taehyung so enjoys a good healing and mending time and it just explodes when you both have a reason to, that’s rather something to expand to the whole relationship. Taehyung will do the exact spoiling for you, with a romantic twist the way you know him. It doesn’t need a sickness to resort to doing nice things for your partner. At the end of the day, the body will remember it and get sick again because it sees what it gets through being ill. That’s something to squarely avoid doing, a random gesture is good for its own sake, amen.

⌈yoongi⌋ ⇢ Grumpy, murmuring, disgruntled he can’t work without getting a headache, needs a lot of silence to recover so he curls up on his own with earphones in and fifty playlists on repeat. He’s like tch, only thing I need is tiger balm to whip me back into shape. Or… wait. Wait a second. A cup of steaming hot coffee with extra foam he will not reject. Or a plate of fried rice. Anything fried and super crispy, really. Yoongi likes those things, especially when prepared by you. Nothing is more honoring. Actually? I’ll change the initial statement. Yoongi does accept some help. You simply gotta find out his catnip I mean favorite dishes and either know the place to order it from or have some kitchen basics down. Nothing super fancy though, it doesn’t need a God’s Menu. The right seasoning does the trick already. 

He wants it mega spicy, sweating out the cold is the way to go said Yoongi’s mom back in the day so he goes by that motto. Love starts in the stomach for felines. If another BTS member drops take-out at the door, even better, that uplifts him greatly. When he munches, that’s the most gratifying thing in the world. Yoongi wants you to eat with him by the bed so that means chili in the bedroom but screw it. All that food and you cranking up the heater distracts Yoongi from his cold and some head pats have him on his way to recovery. And, by the way. He’s kinda turned on by you cooking for him so… the frustration is real, you’re gonna fuck like rabbits once he’s okay again.

★ ⌈namjoon⌋ ⇢ The friendly giant will stay in denial about his cough for at least three days and walk around with way too much medicine in his system. He begs for someone to relieve him, mostly himself, but all those sky-high standards are in the way. Responsibility! Hard work and endurance! Solve it in your head! What is the spiritual reason for colds? How many pills keep you awake for an all-nighter to write an album in one go? What’s next on the schedule? So it goes on, you know the deal with Joonie. You have to kick that leader butt so he finally enters the healing cave under the sheets. Don’t kick too hard though, he doesn’t have Jimin-level cushions. He topples over into his sheets fast anyway, he’s that level of exhausted from his own suppression. 

The story goes on, Namjoon feels extremely guilty for getting pampered and still ponders the reasons why he is ill rather than slowing down a minute and closing his laptop for a hot second. It gets a little awkward unless you figure out your secret weapon. What he feels better with is you reading him stories while he rests on the sofa. I’m not kidding. Or if you’re busy or he wants to be alone, audiobooks. That input is like a lullaby to Namjoon who gets knocked out by the soft whispering only to descend into 12 hours of sleep. Ah, he’s namjooning. Yep. His cold will force him into resting, but by the time he recovers, he is six books wiser and has had the pleasure of listening to your voice which he finds soothing. Thankful he is, anticipate an expensive present and flowers.

★ ⌈jungkook⌋ ⇢ Meal and fluid intake: Quantity explosion! Wow, wow, and wow again, the sheer amount that he can snack and turn into what seems even more muscle and more sweetness. Guinness World Record. He knows his system is currently resetting, he wants to hand it the building blocks, he knows the math. Yes, even sick Jungkook is the cutest foodie in the world. Yes, he will eat his veggies. He worries about not being able to work out so you at least help him stretch his legs ever so slightly in bed. He’s missing his boxing gloves like crazy, he wants to see the members in the practice room, he wants his milk. The latter is easy to get for him, and FaceTime comes in handy. 

Namjoon does a little motivational speech, and Jungkook feels better almost instantly. Later on, you have to scold him — well, just a little bit — for getting up in all that enthusiasm to do some of his routine on the second day, but he already knows it’s not good for him to get his heart rate up like that. He patiently snuggles in a cocoon of duvets with only his eyes being visible. Until, finally, his red lil’ nose goes back to normal and his lungs feel a lot lighter. Jungkook really hates being dizzy, so it’s a weight off his hunky shoulders all right. Then, he can join you at the dinner table for a double portion of extra Parmesan Spaghetti, and you settle on the couch to bingewatch romantic animes and any Studio Ghibli movie in history.

★ ⌈jin⌋ ⇢ It simply can’t be helped, he even wants to make this funny. Humor really is a never-ending well, Jin is Spongebob’s long lost cousin if you go by his amount of meme talk. He calls himself Rudolph the Red-Nosed Jindeer, stuffs handkerchiefs into his nostrils, draws smileys on his knees with the cream usually meant for a dry philtrum (he now has very hydrated knees, how about that), does impossible contortions to find the right sleeping or reading position. Honestly, you don’t really have to take much care of him nor worry, Jin will cure himself through laughter. The power of positive emotion. Entertainment is nothing to provide for, he’s a one-man show after all. Jin is the least bored when he’s sick among the group, however! It needs someone else to exchange with, you know. No punchline without an audience. Listening is the best thing. 

Sit, lean back, see what he has to say. The only thing you gotta actively do is stop him from choking on his own spit after a particularly dead-on joke. Maybe it’s introducing some room for serious time that helps Jin enter a different track. I can imagine that. Some talk about memories, talk about sorrows and issues. Jin is a complete man, but he still has plenty of ’em, demons don’t evade handsome people. And those need to be talked through in a silent minute. Jin also enjoys movie nights with a cup of tea in one hand and syrup in the other, that’s the go-to way to unwind. You can finally go all out and pour him his tea, bake for him, serve some self-made popcorn, extra sticky and sweet, oh yum.

★ ⌈hoseok⌋ ⇢ If Jimin and Hobi ever get colds at the same time, this will be the poutiest contest. They’re the most vocal about it in the group. Hoseok, and that will come to surprise you a little, becomes needy. Not at the beginning where he’s confused and emotional about what’s going on with him (someone who works this hard and needs a fully functioning body is thrown out of their lane even by the slightest symptom), but shortly after. You’ll come to understand how sensitive his body is, almost as perceptive as Jungkook’s actually. His body blows up with a strong fever, a hot man heating up even more is just an explosion of physics. 

He needs handkerchiefs, he needs tons of water, he needs music to distract him a little, he needs a heating blanket for his feet once the fever is gone. Granted, every sick person depends on those things, but Hoseok is someone who calls out of the bedroom often because he ran out. He’s not afraid to ask for things unlike Namjoon who would refuse out of overt politeness. You certainly have a lot to do because his cold comes in strong so it’s important you enjoy taking care of him and don’t do it out of obligation. Quality time is what we’re talking about here. It’s not about you doing the things, it’s about the presence. That’s why Hoseok will use his money well and always order proper take-out that’s not just classic fast food, you don’t have to cook or anything.

related: putting bts to sleep after a hard day 

© 2017-2020 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed.

[akvtsuki-ari]

Be Mean

Warnings: smut, femdom, degradation, sub!spencer, mild masochism, choking, generally mean shit lol 

Length: 5.3k (ik) 

Authors Note: uhh happy valentines day! not the fic anyone was expecting today and extremely self indulgent but valentines day is about self love too right? lmfao anyways, hope yall enjoy

Summary: Spencer was just a little too into the way you cuss people out and it was starting to weigh on him. You’re more than happy to help him out. 

Words were falling from your lips with grace. Your back was straight as you leaned into the table - the unsub just inches away. He was a narcissist, and his hatred for strong women became increasingly clear the moment you stepped into the room. He wanted to prove he was smarter, tougher, and better than you - but the challenge you reproached him with left his knuckles white. Teeth gritted, jaw clenched, and that same grace - analyzing and cold, never seemed to escape you. 

It didn’t take long for the arrest to fall through - his confession leaving him as he tried to express his pathetic anger towards you. He called you names but nothing creative, not as smart as he seemed to be but you couldn’t help but laugh at him. Soon after he delves into explaining his own genius and the pieces continued to fall together - it was a good case and luckily he didn’t get far after his first 3 victims. Not something that the BAU gets lucky with very often, you think. 

Spencer watched you in the interrogation - eyes fading over your body language carefully. You were unnervingly confident - always were no matter whether it was a killer or not. He took notice of many little things that seemed to make the details of your existence culminate further in his mind. You licked the inside of your lip when you were getting close to breaking the unsub, and your eyes would get a little lower when he started to speak. You rolled your shoulders when you watched him get escorted and that warm, sweet version of you returned to you with no trouble at all. 

It was easy for people to call you BAU’s resident sweetheart. You were charming, witty, and intelligent but also kind. When the team needed someone who people can trust, you were always up there on the list. Your skills of diffusion were particularly helpful, you worked homeland security for a long while and it showed. Your capabilities to ease a tense moment as well as interrogate a criminal in a provocative way has proved helpful time and time again - but who you were was always up in the air. It was a valuable trait to be mysterious in that sense. 

On one hand, Spencer really did like plain Y/N more than anything. You were always particularly kind to Spencer - you remembered his birthday and always texted him right at 12 beating the entire BAU, even Garcia. You brought him soup and cold medicine when he was sick because you were close by and he needed some company. You helped him babysit JJ’s kids because you could and you were fond of them. You were never too impatient and you let him work in silence rather than making commentary about his process. You just got him, and it all seemed to come naturally though you knew things someone could only figure out through careful observation. 

Y/N the Agent was different, though. Still you, when she needed to be. Any cases involving young children, or innocent people in general really showed the other side of you. But you had this moment in every case, where your hyperfocus became so sinister everyone in the department could feel it. They were different sides of the same coin, your traits manifesting themselves in different ways but Spencer had a very particular notice of it. For one, it fascinated him a lot. How could anyone not be fascinated by that? 

Of course though, that wasn’t the only reason but the other half of this whole spiel was a lot more embarrassing but - 

Spencer got unbelievably turned on when he watched you interrogate criminals and - listen he knows okay? He really understands how absolutely not good that is but the memory is so burned into his brain he can’t help but think about it every time it comes up. 

The team was in Arizona working on ritualistic killings from a small tribe, native to the area. You and Reid had been assigned to talk to important community members and there was a head elder dude there who was particularly scummy - though not the unsub. He was too cocky to pull off such elaborate and patient murders so he was ruled out early but he was hiding something and you needed to know what it was. When interrogations went on, you confronted the man about his use of testosterone injections - something forbidden in the community since they believed modern medicine was extremely harmful, part of the killers M.O. 

The conversation between the two of you was short-lived but memorable, to say the least. 

“What happened, elder? Were the village girls not working for you anymore so you sicked your friend on them cause you couldn’t get it up? Was it worth it?,” your voice was thick with distaste and the elder lost his shit. He ended up confessing that he had a strong hunch but he’d only tell if they kept his secret and the lead was correct. 

Spencer's mind hasn’t been able to let go of that moment and every single time a case comes up where you have to confront someone he finds himself having to relieve himself in a bathroom stall or strain himself to get it to just go away. It was killing him really. He had a crush on you sure, always has but his body reacting like he was a 16-year-old boy every time you spoke was not going to cut it but he didn’t know what to do either. 

He finds himself in that same position now, on the plane ride home with the thought of you and your demeanor keeping him from focusing. You were asleep across from him, wearing comfortable clothes that slid just over your shoulders. He couldn’t help the way his eyes lingered on his skin and he tried his absolute best to ignore and go to sleep.

_

When Spencer Reid arrived home, he was pleasantly surprised to see messages from you, asking to hangout in his apartment while your kitchen gets renovated. There was no way in hell he was gonna say no to that, so he tidied his things up and ordered thai food while he waited for your arrival. 

It didn’t take long for you to show, wearing black joggers and a tight tanktop that Spencer has never seen you in before. It looked good on you, accentuating the strength in your shoulders in back. He knew you were decently fit but this was surprising, even for him. You smiled wide as you stepped through the door, giving Spencer a tight hug. He can feel your boobs pressed up against his chest and he wants to kick himself for the shiver that runs off his spine as if he were a teenager again. 

“Hey, Spence. Thanks again for letting me come over today, hope I’m not intruding,” you say softly, as you settle down on Spencer's couch, phone in hand. He nods, smiling. 

“It’s no problem. The food should be here in a minute but do you want a glass of water or anything in the meantime? I also have some lemonade, if you want that,” Spencer offers. You readjust and Spencer watches the way your muscles tense. He shouldn’t be noticing something like that yet here he is. 

“Lemonade sounds great, thanks Spence,” you say, laying into the couch as you scroll through your phone. Spencer excuses himself to the kitchen, grabbing glasses from his cupboard and filling them up with lemonade before returning to you. He places the glasses on the table in front of you, before the sound of the doorbell alerts him. 

You get up, retying your hair as the smell of Thai food hits you. You let out an involuntary moan but Spencer just laughs. The food is set up in front of you, but its far too hot for either of you to eat so the both of you sip on your lemonade and chat instead. 

“Everytime we get a few days off, the paranoia of a case hits the ground running,” you complain, gently. Spencer laughs, nodding his head. 

“Oh definitely. I can’t imagine what it’s like not thinking about it all the time, though,” he explains. You nod your head in agreement. 

“Yeah, but time off is still time off so the plan is to spend the weekend alone with a glass of wine and some romantic films and relax,” you explain, sighing. Spencer looks at you curiously. 

“Didn’t take you for the romance type,” he states curiously. You sigh again, looking at him.

“I’m not for the most part, it kinda serves a different purpose for me than most women I’d argue,” you reply to him. Spencers intrigued by your comment and sits up a bit. 

“How so?,” he poses carefully. You place your lemonade down on the coffee table and scratch the back of your neck.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like being wined-and-dined like any woman. Romance itself is nice, love is wonderful - but the way I wanna be romanced isn’t exactly traditional,” your voice is airy when you speak, laughing at yourself but the revelation maes Spencers weak.

“Traditional?,” he manages to squeak out. You notice his shift in behavior, and you slow down for a moment. 

“We don’t have to talk about that kinda stuff, Spence. It’s more of a girls night thing I’d talk about with Garcia and JJ - though they already know about most of it,” you say lightly. Spencer chokes a bit as you continue to reveal details. 

“No, it's not that. I’m… interested?,” he says nervously, chewing the inside of his lip. You tilt your head, surprised by his curiosity. 

“Didn’t take you for a freak, pretty boy,” you comment, giggling. Spencer's face turns hot, but you reassure him you’re only kidding. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t really care for the whole subservient role, especially not in bed. I enjoy seeing someone do what I say, and having things go my way. I’ve always been like that, figured that out with my first highschool boyfriend, hah,” you say, sipping your lemonade. 

Spencer swallows at the realization that you’re probably experienced, very experienced in that department. He shifts in his set again and your eyes settle on him for a moment, neither of you making eye contact but rather observing each other

“I don’t know how to explain it all that well, but I like it when I can be just a little mean, you know,” you say, smiling. Your tone is joking but your words have weight to them. Spencer's throat is closing up as you speak but he smiles back at you fondly. You take notice but hold yourself back. 

“You sure you’re okay, Spencer?,” your voice is different this time. Knowing. Spencer's eyes flutter over to you and he’s aware rather suddenly of your being. The way your chest rises and falls as you speak, the smoothness of your lips around the glass, the way your hair falls over your face. He nods as you observe him. Your lips twitch up into a smile. 

“Spencer, could it be resident boy genius is a sub?,” you say incredulous. Spencers whole face flushes and you find your clit up at attention at the non-verbal confession. 

While he may be oblivious to it, you had a rather massive crush on Spencer. Something about his intelligence was remarkably sexy to you and knowing he was also a good person didn’t make the feelings any easier. Who could blame you for having a crush on Spencer, anway? Most people did - it was part of the reason you never told him. Based on his personality and dating history - it didn’t really seem like you were his type. You weren’t massively intelligent or particularly unique (at least you didn’t think so) so you couldn’t imagine Spencer having a crush on you. You were great, but you didn’t think you were Spencers type, thats all. 

However, that didn’t stop you from thinking about him - really the opposite. Every waking moment you’d catch him doing something absentmindedly you cute - your brain begged to see him fucked out and sleepy. He’d ramble about something for so many minutes and all you wanted to do was sit on his face and shut him up (and then let him continue because he was honest to god so cute like that)

The point was that Spencer really did something to you. You had countless lingering thoughts about him but to know that this was actually something he was into made your head spin. You couldn’t hold your expression back and maybe it was your own masochism that made you want to know more but god did you want to know more.

“How long have you known about yourself, Spence?” you interrogate. Spencer swallows and prays to every deity his mind can manage as he looks at you pleadingly but you can’t recognize what the pleading is really for. 

“How long have you been on the team?,” Spencer speaks before he can really understand the weight of his words, and the second he says the whole room stops. You look at him with delighted surprise and he shuts his eyes at contempt for his own existence. 

“No fucking way,” you can’t help the little inhale you do at the realization. Pure excitement just emanating from your being like nobody's business. You were genuinely going to lose your mind at this revelation. Spencer Reid discovered that hes a sub because of you? Were you dreaming?

If this wasn’t Spencer's apartment he would’ve run away. He just had to look at you instead and face the fact he just revealed his own sins. Your laugh at Spencer revelation made the little nagging voice in Spencers head just a little louder and that meant that - 

“You’re really into whatever you’ve been thinking of huh?,” you say, eyeing the hard-on in his pants casually. Spencer looks down and places a pillow on his lap, wishing to throw his entire existence into a fire and to never ever look back. 

“Shit,” he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s at total wits end with himself and is forced to deal with the repercussions of his horniness. 

On the other hand there was you, eyes full of delight as your mind raced with all the thoughts of what Spencer could be thinking about. Anything was good really, any level of him giving up his control to you was good. It all worked for you but whatever he’d been thinking about specifically had you itching to know. 

“What could it be? I mean - seriously, I have to know what has the beloved Doctor this flustered. You have to tell me,” you say smiling. Spencer just shakes his head. 

“Aww c'mon, do you want me to start guessing?,” you joke. Spencer looks at you that time and you realize that might be key. You look at him in surprise. 

“Okay, well let’s think. It started when we worked together which means it was probably when we were in the field,” you start profiling Spencer, which on one hand he’s not a fan of but on another he’s a little turned on by. 

You chew on your lip as you think for a minute. 

“The work I do on the field sorta depends, but mostly I diffuse situations,” you say softly, really to only yourself. “But also, I do a lot of interrogations, and with the way you reacted to that whole being mean thing, I’m gonna go ahead and place my bets on that,” you conclude. You look to Spencer for approval and his eyes are hazy as he nods a yes. 

You place your glass on the table, and move in front of Spencer. Normally your height isn’t all too important to him but right now your being towers over him and all he can do is look up at you. You wish you had the patience to do a little bit more teasing but you couldn’t hold back too much. Your knee is between his legs as you bend it and lean over him. Your fingers brush his hair back for a moment as you use your knuckle to pull his face up. He wants to refuse but he can’t so he lets you - looking at you tenderly. He’s cute like this. 

“Spence, you know I actually like you right?,” 

“No,” 

You laugh lazily. Your hands on the side of his face, brushing your thumb along his cheek as you look at him adoringly. 

“I like you a whole lot, probably a lot more than like - actually. So whatever we do after this - if you want to do something anyways, it’s because I actually like you,” you say softly. Spencer nods, blush staining his cheeks. 

“I - uh, like you too,” he says warmly. You chew your lip. 

“Can I kiss you, Spencer?,” the way you ask makes Spencer's heart melt. This was you, all at once. No sides of any coins, still kind and warm and thoughtful, but still mean and intimidating in the way Spencer likes. He wants to scream yes, but he nods instead. 

You brush your lips over his for a second, smiling as he moves forwards to gain some contact. You don’t hesitate to kiss him forreal that time, lips pressed to his as your hand lays at the base of his necks, fingers pressing into his throat as he sighs. Your lips are warm, your touch is soft and Spencer could cry with how gentle you treat him. You pull away and brush your nose against his. 

“For someone who kisses like that, I’m surprised you’re so into the idea of being degraded,” you chuckle. Spencer coughs and just looks at you shyly. 

“Yeah, I really am,” his voice is hoarse.

You straddle yourself in Spencers lap and move the pillow. All the sudden contact makes his skin flush and he looks at you needy. Your pants are loose but your tank top is tight, and he finds his eyes looking at your chest before he can think about it. You roll your eyes at him, leaning into his neck to press a kiss on it. He whimpers and you smile - he really is desperate.

“Perv,” you murmur to him.He laughs. 

“Can’t say you’re wrong,” 

“Before we go any further, I wanna give you a safe word. I wouldn’t normally be doing something like this the first time for the purposes of semantics but I want you too badly to wait that long. I want to make sure it doesn’t get to be too much for you, in a bad way at least,” you say softly. Spencer looks at you and kisses you, and you laugh. 

“We can do Red for Stop, Yellow for Slow Down, and Green for Go,” you explain warmly. He nods. 

“Okay,” he says it back to you as he buries his face in your neck. You pet his hair and place a kiss on his head. 

“Tell me what you want, angel,” you say first. Your voice is smooth like silk, the word angel rings out in his mind. It’s too pretty for what he wants you to do and maybe that's why he likes it so much. The juxtaposition to be something so pretty when all he wants you to do is ruin him. 

He wants so much all at once he has trouble verbalizing any of it. It’d come out so incoherent even if he tried but he wants it, whatever the case may be. He feels your hands on his chest while you stare him down. He makes eye-contact and when he tries to look down again your hands force his chin up. 

“Gotta look at me when you say it, baby. Otherwise, I won’t know who you’re talking too,” you say thoughtfully. Fuck - thats hot. Spencer swallows and nods, looking into your eyes as his mind racks itself with possibilities. 

“Wanna fuck you,” he can’t believe how it sounds. He has so much more that he wants - he wants to fuck you while you absolutely take away his ability to cum. He wants to hear your voice when you talk down to him about it - about how hard he is when you get like this, and about how dirty he must really be. He wants to hear you threaten him with the possibility of being blue-balled hanging over his head. He wants you to be so fucking mean to him because he knows it doesn’t matter - he knows all the choice is yours and he really does love to please you and he knows he’s quite the masochist for it. He doesn’t care. 

“I think you wanna do a little bit more than fuck me, Spence,” you giggle. Your eyes turn a shade darker as your hand moves to his throat. His hands are planted to his sides as your grip tightens around his neck - voice cold as you whisper into his ear. 

“I think you want me to fuck you instead, yeah? Watch your teeth sink into your lips while I sit on your dick and make fun of you for how easy you twitch when I move. You’re so easy, Spencer,” the words leave your mouth and spill like wine. The words stain his whole mind with lust - absolutely aching to hear more. Fuck did he want that. 

“Take your shirt off,” you don’t ask. He does so without warning and his eyes beg you do the same. 

“I’ll take mine off when you’ve earned it, unzip your pants,” you reply nonchalant. He holds back a whimper and does so, his cock stiff against his boxer-briefs. You stand up and slide your pants off and your wearing boy-shorts, making Spencer sigh. 

He looks up at you pleadingly, and you smile at him. You walk up to him again and smile, as he looks up at you. You let him lay his head on your stomach as he looks at you, your fingers tucked into his curls. 

You tug them as you force him to look up at you. He groans from his throat as your other hand is placed on the side of his face. His eyes are weary as he looks at you. Your hands threaten to place a hit on him. 

“You should get all that begging under control before there's a handmark on that pretty face of yours love,” you say softly. He looks at you with challenge.

“I don’t think I can, miss,” he says softly. You want to kiss him but you refrain. 

“Color?,”

“Green” 

You lift your hand and place a firm hit on Spencer's cheek. He relishes in the pain, the demand your fingers have in them. You command respect and he knew it deep in him. He groans at the feeling.

“Didn’t take you for the type,” your commentary is sly like Spencer likes it. It’s mean in a witty way, not degrading just to do it. It fits perfect with your demeanor and Spencer adores it. 

You grab a stool from near one of Spencer bookshelves and place it between his legs. You’ve picked up tie from the ground while you sit yourself in front of him

“Stand up and turn around, and put your hands together behind your back,” you say, voice laced with faux boredom. Spencer does as told as you tie his hands together. You stare at him like that, taking note at his figure. He’s slim and it’s cute to you. 

You pull his boxers down and spit into your hand, reaching around to wrap your hands around his cock. He hisses at the feeling, finding his hips rutting into them. He was so desperate for it. 

“There's so much to do with you, I don’t even know where to start,” you sigh. Spencers mind races as your hand moves across him, wrapping around his length tight and letting your thumb run over his slit - just so you could feel how it twitched. 

“I could make you cum like this, facing away from me - too focused on being degraded to care. You’d still get off on that wouldn’t you, angel?,” you say warmly. You stand up and place your hands under his chin. He looks down at it. 

“Spit,” 

He does as told. You drip it across his length and he shivers as you take him back into your pals, fingers curled tightly around his base while your other hand plays with his nipples. Your thumbs flick across them carefully and he whimpers, knees nearly folding at the sensation of pleasure. 

“You don’t seem like one for visuals but maybe it’d be more fun for me if I fucked myself in front you with your hands behind your back. All of what would be on your dick, slick on my fingers instead. If I were nice, I’d let you taste me,” you muse. Spencer throws his head back at your words. 

“Or maybe that type of torture isn’t your cup of tea. What’d you prefer Spencer? You cum so many times you nearly pass out from all the pleasure? At the end of all that, you’d have been so ruined that you’d have nothing to show for it when you came. Your whole body aching pleasure but with nothing left to give,” your thoughts come to you in phases but to Spencer the sound like holy scripture. Dry orgasms sound painful but Spencer was certainly intrigued. 

“I wonder if you’d cry for me, baby. When your dick gets all red and sensitive and it hurts, would I have to wipe the tears off your pretty face? Sounds nice,” your voice is light and makes Spencer want to smile. He didn’t take you for that much of a sadist but he finds himself pleasantly surprised by the revelation

Your grip on his shaft tightens rather suddenly and Spencer whimpers. His voice is shaky, bare chest rising and falling at the feeling of your hands gripped around him. 

“Fuck, please,” Spencer begs you to ease up but he doesn’t really want you too. You sigh, placing a kiss on his back. 

“Please, what? You want me to stop?,” you ask, knowing damn well that it was the opposite. He shakes his head. 

“Please let me fuck you, please,” the need in Spencer's voice was rather nice. You pull your hand off and tell Spencer to lay down on the couch. He does so without question but aches with how much he misses your touch. He moved against his restraints to try and get some friction but no luck.

He watches you as you pull down your underwear, giving him a view to how wet you are. A slick spot just sitting between your thighs, pretty as can be. Spencer's throat is dry, the urge to touch you sending his mind into agony. 

“You talk too much,” your actions speak louder than words as you position yourself over Spencer's face. His neck cranes up to get a taste of you, tongue flatly along your slit trying to get some friction. You groan at the feeling, as Spencer laps at you. Flicking his tongue back and forth along your clit, curling around before sucking it into his mouth for a few seconds at a time. 

“Jesus, Spencer,” you moan out to him, finger gripping in his hair. He wished he could verbalize how grateful he was, but he tried his best to show it instead. He could do this all day if you let him, and if his hands were free he’d wrap them tightly around your hips so you’d lean more weight on him. You could break his neck, honestly. It wouldn't matter to him, the way you had him feeling. 

You grind your hips, rutting against Spencer's tongue as you ride yourself closer to orgasm. The sound of you getting off mixed with the taste of you on his tongue made Spencer feel like he was living off of you and he didn’t mind. You were so good to him. 

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you,” is the last words you say before you cum all over Spencer face. Riding your orgasm out, you move and look down at Spencer, face flush. He smiles at you, absolutely ecstatic and you can’t help but laugh. 

“I’ll untie you now, you did so good for me baby,” you praise softly, untying Spencer's hands. The first thing he does is sit up and wrap his arms around your waist. He places kisses along your naval as you pet his hair. He looks up at you, your orgasm still clear on his face. You cup his jaw and kiss him, just a little messy. 

“You're soft, baby,” you note. He nods, seeming sleepy already and you wanna coo at him. He looks up at you again and shakes his head. 

“Be mean to me, please,” his voice is shaky. You’re surprised, leaning down to give him a kiss on the forehead before you agree. 

“Sit back,” you demand. He does so without question as you straddle his lap. He can feel his tip brushing back and forth between your folds as you look at him adoringly, face full of affection mixed with an urge to give him what he’s so kindly asked for. 

You wrap your hands around his neck as you sink down on Spencer cock. It stretches you out slowly, wrapped tightly around Spencer. He hits your cervix with ease. His breathing is labored, his hand holding your wrist as you choke him. 

“Look at you, my love. I’m taking your breath away, and you're giving it up to me just like that? You want me to wreck you that badly huh? I didn’t take your for such a slut,” you utter that last word with false confidence but the way Spencer adores every second of it gives you real confidence instead. He could cum right then and there - hearing you call him a slut makes him feel something rather unexpected. It’s an ultimate powerplay, because the both of you know that right now he’s only giving it up for you, but it implies something so much greater. He likes it so much, likes the sound of bombarding him with pleasure and degradation that when he moans, voice strained as the column of his neck gets squeezed - he doesn’t really know how to stop himself from saying again. 

“You like being a slut for me baby?,” you ask, bouncing up and down on Spencer cock, feeling the way he twitches in you. You let go of his throat, and he coughs before looking at you softly. His fingers run over the feeling of your hands. Your mouth moves to his neck instead, marking hickies into it as he holds onto your hips and fucks into you. He nods his head yes at your question. 

“You’re so needy, love,” you remark, pulling back and using your fingers to rub your clit as Spencer fucks into you. You cum again a second time, convulsing around Spencer's length as you moan his name.

“Please, please can I cum?,” Spencer asks politely. You’d love to tease him more, but you figure it may be too much for him so you just nod. You kiss him softly. 

“Anywhere you wanna finish?,” you ask. He looks immediately at your chest. You take off your tank top and bra and get on your knees for Spencer as he finishes on your chest, voice groaning your name. 

“Y/N - fuck, oh my god,” His eyes are shut in pleasure and you can’t help but smile at him. When he comes down from his high and sees you stood up, looking for your clothes - he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and pull you down to the couch. You giggle as he does. 

“You did so good for me, baby. You’re such a good boy,” the praises fall from your lips with ease as Spencer mutters a flushed thank you. You reach to the table for a tissue as you wipe the cum off of your chest, making Spencer snort. 

You turn around to be facing Spencer, naked bodies just holding each other. You play with Spencer's hair pressing constant kisses into his shoulders, or on his forehead. Anywhere you can get them really. 

“It’s time for aftercare soon, but we can sit here a little longer if you like. Just no sleeping until we’ve showered and eaten and you’re taken care of, okay?,” you say lovingly, tucking Spencer's hair back behind his ear. He smiles at you softly, the feeling of being pampered like that holding him close.

“Hey, Y/N,” he looks at you with adoration “Will you please be my girlfriend? Cause I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you,” he says with sincerity. You can’t help but chuckle as you kiss him slowly. 

“Yes, Spence, of course. I’m in love with you too, by the way,” you say back. Spencer simply smiles, hugging you tight and hoping to never let you go. 

______

taglist: @cynbx​ @skrrrrrrrrrrt​ @zephyr-studiesjp​ @reid-187​

[deputytrash]

Shotgunning

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)

Relationship: Javier Escuella/Female Reader

Words: 3898

Summary: Javier teaches you about how good smoking marijuana feels, among other things

Featuring period accurate underwear, the historically accurate spelling of marijuana and some inclusions of how I felt the first time I smoked weed (which was 100% less saucy than this reader's first time smoking).

Read on AO3

It was quiet around the camp. Darkness had long since rolled in as everyone settled in for the night, finished with their drinking and chatting. You'd drawn the short end of the stick on chores earlier in the day so you were just finally wrapping up. When you'd gone to Miss Grimshaw to bring her the mended and washed clothes, she had taken them and told you to "go on and do as you please then." You fully intended to do just that.

You stopped by your bedroll, stripping off your day clothes down to your underthings, a simple off-white slip of fabric over your bloomers, and made your way to Pearson's wagon. You were determined to spend what little was left of the night relaxing with a bottle and a book. You'd more than earned the lazy time, after all. You managed to find a bottle of whiskey in acceptable condition and made your way to the scout campfire. It was always quieter just a bit outside of camp, and you were eager to get away from the bustle of it all for a moment.

You started that way, noticed Javier lounging in the area. Nervous butterflies fluttered in your gut and you paused, considering turning back, if only for the sake of your nerves. You certainly weren't unhappy to see him. Honestly, you quite liked the man. Your instantaneous friendly affections had quickly developed into a pesky crush that had been frustratingly unyielding in your attempts to suppress it. His smooth words and warm smiles always managed to pull you back and get you terribly flustered.

Javier was settled with his back against one of the logs circling the fire. He'd slipped down to his union suit and pants, suspenders hanging off his hips and falling in the dirt. His long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle as he smoked. His movements were slow and languid as he glanced over at your approaching figure and gave you a lazy little smile. You smiled back.

Your grin faltered as you came closer, though, your nose picking up a strong, unfamiliar scent. You looked around searching for the source. "Javier, what the fuck is that smell?" Your eyes settled on the twisted cigarette between his fingers. It looked hand-rolled. Had he run out of regular cigarettes? "Are you sure that tobacco's still good? It seriously smells like rotten shit."

"Hey, that's not nice," Javier laughed, eyes red-tinged and mirthful. "And that's 'cause it's not tobacco," he said, cryptically.

"What the fuck is it then?" You wrinkled your nose, but you were already noticing the smell less as the smoke drifted off with the wind. He laughed again, shaking his head.

"Hosea is gonna give you a lecture on bad language if you keep that up," He teased. You blushed and rolled your eyes, but he wasn't wrong. "It's marihuana. I used to smoke it all the time back in Mexico. You want to try it?" He raised his eyebrows, offering you the twisted up cigarette with one blackened end.

"Marihuana?" You tested the word in your mouth. It sounded a lot weirder without Javier's smooth accent. "I've never heard of it." When you don't take the cigarette from him, Javier shrugs, bringing his arm back down to rest on his lap.

"Same thing as cannabis. It's in some medicines around here," he explained.

You shifted on your feet, embarrassed at your sheer ignorance on the topic at hand. "Sorry, I don't really know medicine stuff." You sat down on the other half of the log he was leaned against, movements somewhat stiff and awkward. "Been meaning to learn, but it's hard to know what's real and what's snake oil these days…Anyway, if it's medicine why are you smokin' it?" You hoped Javier wasn't sick or something.

"Well, It's not always medicine. It also just…feels good. Kinda like when you smoke too much tobacco, but a lot better and without the sick feeling," he said with a pointed smirk. You let out an embarrassed laugh, knowing he was thinking of the first time you'd smoked tobacco. It was a few years ago when you had, foolishly, tried to keep pace with Dutch's smoking and had ended up dizzy and green. You'd tried to play it off, making some excuse to shuffle away, but Javier had caught on. He'd stepped away from the group, making you promise not to throw up on him as he led you to your bedroll. Once there, Mary Beth had promptly shooed him away and insisted on taking care of you, herself; God bless the woman.

Javier brought a swiftly lit match back up to the cigarette at his lips. He inhaled, pausing and coughing on the exhale as he shook out the match, throwing the little wooden stick into the sandy dirt.

"Are you okay?" His cough worried you. "Does it hurt?"

"No, no." He coughed again, tried and failed to pass it off as clearing his throat. "Just…been a while since I've done this." He gave you a goofy grin that you couldn't help but return.

You looked down to take a drink of your whiskey. Was that too long of eye contact just then? You hoped you hadn't weirded him out. God, was a quick smile really all it took to muss up the entirety of your composure?

Javier called your name, breaking you from your thoughts. You looked over to find him with a curious smile on his face. "I've got an idea if you want to try this." He waved the cigarette in his hand. "Just to ease you into it. Don't have to, but I think you'd like it."

You thought for a moment, some nervousness building again before saying fuck it and nodding. You knew Javier would never rope you into something that might hurt you. "Yeah, alright. I'll give it a try."

"Come over here and sit next to me, then." You hesitated before gathering your bravery to settle down beside him. He smiled at you, noticing your tenseness. "Don't have to be nervous, I promise. It'll be fun."

You nodded, but you were more nervous about the proximity than the drug.

"Okay, so, what I'm going to do is get some smoke and breathe it out to you. You just breathe in, hold it for a little, and let it out, okay? And if you want to stop, just tell me." You nodded again, dizzy at the inherent intimacy of the proposal.

Javier took a deep breath off of the cigarette. He held the smoke in his lungs for a moment and motioned for you to move in closer to him. He managed to maintain a just on this side of platonic distance from you as he gently blew smoke to your lips. You breathed in as deeply as you could before, twisting away to hack out the smoke, forgetting about the holding it in part entirely. He laughed, patting your back as you relearned how to breathe.

"Sorry," you muttered, coughing, feeling embarrassed.

Javier was nonplussed. "'S no problem. You want to try again?"

"Gimme a minute," you replied. He nodded.

Your mouth was bone-dry and desperate for liquid. "Fuck, where's my whiskey?" Javier grabbed it, taking a swig for himself before moving to hand it to you.

"Here," he said, handing it to you. "Don't drink too much. I know you've got a good tolerance, but marihuana makes alcohol a lot stronger." You coughed again, taking a drink. You were really wishing that you'd brought some water up here.

It took a moment before your breathing settled down, lungs thankful for the return of regular old oxygen. You took another moment, preparing yourself. "Okay, I'm ready."

He followed the same series of steps as before, but this time you managed to hold it for a few seconds before hacking it back out. He patted your back again, settling his arm to stretch out on the log behind you afterward.

You felt yourself relax. Something distinctly not alcohol was working through your blood, plying your muscles and calming your mind. You blinked. Your eyes felt swollen and heavy. Everything felt like it was moving just a bit more slowly.

You looked over at Javier and he gave you a conspiratorial smile. "You starting to feel it? You look like you are."

You nodded, the simple movement spurring a heady, dizzy feeling. "Shit, I think so."

"Good. Let it settle in for a minute and I can give you some more." You nodded, again, eyes settling on the fire. It was beautiful. The chaotic pattern of the flames shifting and licking at the sky entranced you and, as you glanced at Javier again, you felt how absolutely beautiful he was as well.

He smiled lazily as he met your gaze. "You having fun? Feel good?"

"Y-yeah," You breathed, suddenly recognizing your staring for what it was and looking down at your hands wringing them together, embarrassed.

"Do you want some more?" He asked.

Did you? You felt good, better than you had felt in a while, despite the nervous thrumming of your heart in your rib cage. You nodded and watched him as he effortlessly worked through the same routine again.

He inhaled the smoke into his lungs and leaned in to breathe it out to you again. His eyes were heavy as he watched your lips drink it in. Fuck, was he closer? Your tongue was dry and sticky in your mouth as you tried to lick your lips, holding the smoke in your lungs. Your eyes fell closed on the exhale, mind wrapped in a warm swirling haze before you pulled away and coughed out the smoke into your hand.

His palm was rubbing your back now, cooing at you, softly working you through your hacking. Your inability to smoke without coughing was starting to feel more amusing than embarrassing and you choked out a laugh.

It was starting to get cold outside, now, as the night fully rolled in. The cool night air soothed your burning throat and chilled your flesh, the breeze raising goosebumps on your skin. Javier noticed, beckoned you closer. "Come here. You can lean against me if you're cold."

You shifted to move closer, dizziness hitting again as you fell into a fit of giggles. Your face felt ridiculous, like little bugs were dancing along the outline of every feature. You didn't want him to think you were laughing at him, but you couldn't hold it back. Everything felt hilarious.

"Hey, hey what's so funny?" He laughed nervously, ducking his head to meet your eyes.

You laughed again. You felt bizarre and goofy and light all at the same time. "I'm sorry, Javier. I ain't laughin' at you, but…I-I can feel my eyebrows." He gave you an amused but confused look as you bust out laughing again. "That sounds so stupid but they feel fuzzy." You reached up to scratch at your eyebrows, failing to hold back another giggle when the feeling stubbornly returned. You knew you were acting like a fool, but you couldn't seem to help it.

He laughed as well, shaking his head with a smile. "God, come here and get warm, giggles. You're ridiculous."

You shifted over obediently, laughter fading into a smile as you let your body melt into his side. He was warm and comfortable. He smelled like the smoke that still coated your throat mixed with something indescribable, but so distinctly him.

The weight of his arm settled strongly against your shoulders as his warm palm gently smoothed down the little bumps scattered across the skin of your arm. The texture of his hands against your skin was almost overwhelming as your hair follicles relaxed into the heat. Was this cuddling? Holy shit, you were cuddling Javier, you realized, belatedly.

"You're so soft," he murmured, fingers still brushing over your skin. Your cheeks flushed. Were you? You brushed your own fingers against your skin experimentally and found yourself strangely fascinated by the smooth texture.

"Oh shit, I am," you laughed and he raised his eyebrows, grinning down at you like you were the most lovely, silly, little thing he'd ever seen. You couldn't handle it. You pressed your face into his shirt, feeling sleepy and giddy and warm in too many ways.

"Look at me," he whispered. You peeked up at him with dazed, reddened eyes. "You're beautiful."

You hid your face again, picking at the skin of your fingers. "God, Javier you're not fair."

He chuckled, fingertips dancing lightly over your arm. Your skin momentarily pinched back up into little goosebumps before fading again "How am I not fair?" he laughed. "I'm sharing my marihuana with you. I'm warming you up. I even complimented you. I think I'm being very fair."

Goddammit. Your head was spinning. Where the fuck did he learn to be so charming? You wanted to tamp down this nervous energy bubbling inside you, get brave again. "Can I have some more?"

"Of course," he smiled. Flicking another match against the box, he readied the dwindling cigarette.

You were mere inches away this time. Javier's fingers moved to play with the soft hairs against your neck, rough thumb rubbing circles into your skin. Anticipation coiled in your belly, the thumping of heart louder than normal. Somehow, you managed not to cough this time, breathing the smoke back out to mix with his exhale. You met his eyes, felt the heat in them as he watched you. If your mouth felt dry before, it was the Sahara Desert now.

He leaned forward and kissed you. It was brief, quick, and chaste, but you felt like your world shifted, opening up before you. You stared at him before quickly kissing him again, the touch just as fleeting as the first. You stared at him, breathless, eyes searching his face, simultaneously frozen and utterly desperate for more.

He pulled you onto his lap, legs side-saddled, meeting your lips again. You were still riding an amazing high, body light and airy. He was warm against you as you deepened the kiss before pulling back for air. "I feel real good, Javier," you mumbled, breathless.

"I can make you feel even better if you want," he murmured, shifting to kiss down your jawline as his palm settled on the bare skin of your thigh. "Just say the word." Fuck, was this really happening?

"Please," you breathed, your voice knowing what you wanted before your thoughts had even caught up.

His teeth nipped at the flesh of your ear lobe as his palms felt over your body, his hands warm enough to feel even where your skin was still covered with cloth. He took his time, exploring you, slipping his fingers under the edges of your clothing to swipe over your skin, brief and teasing.

"God, Javier, I already said please," you breathed, overwhelmed and desperate.

"Patience. I want to savor you," he murmured against your cheek, kissing it. He worked your nightgown up until the bottom stitching fell around your thighs. "Spread your legs for me."

You shivered when the cold air rushed into the open crotch of your knickers as you shifted your legs. His fingers played with the fabric there momentarily, before lightly brushing over the hair covering your core. You stared at his every movement, fighting the urge to shove his hand further, press his fingers into you.

You looked up to find his eyes studying your face. Had he been watching your reactions this whole time? "I meant it when I said you're beautiful." You felt overwhelmed, tried to impress your feelings back with your lips against his.

You pulled back, hand resting on his cheek before pinching it lightly. He gave you a look.

"And I meant it when I said you're not fair," you complained, squirming in his lap, attempting to goad him into action. "Come on, Javier." You started to undo the line of buttons on his union suit, kissing his neck.

"Ay, I'm not fair, she says." he grinned, rolling his eyes, pulling your hand and mouth away from himself. "So impatient. I'll show you unfair."

He continued his gentle ministrations, escalating even more slowly than before. His palms worked over your breasts, squeezed over your thighs, fingers just barely brushing over your dripping slit. The frustrating heat in your belly grew heavier with every passing moment. Maybe you should've just kept your mouth shut.

"Javier," you groaned in exasperation.

"Yes?" he asked, mirthful and teasing.

What did he want? You were ready to do just about anything at this point, promise the man anything he wanted.

"Fuck, okay. You win. I'm sorry, Javier. You've been real nice to me; I mean it. Please touch me. Please," you begged, making no effort to hide your frustration.

Javier laughed. "Yeah? Where do you want me to touch you?" He spoke softly back to you. You resisted rolling your eyes. Of course, he was going to make you say it.

"My c-cunt," you squeaked out, lips embarrassingly falling over the word.

"Can't believe there's a word you're shy about saying," Javier laughed. "Come on, lift yourself up." He tapped against your butt. You raised up slightly as he worked your nightgown up past your hips. His fingers pulled at the tie on your knickers, loosening it and working them off as well.

"Shit," he hissed, palms immediately feeling over the revealed skin. "So good, you're so beautiful."

The warmth of his hands felt wonderful, but it wasn't what you wanted right now. "God, Javier, ain't I begged enough?"

His laugh shook against you. "You're so fussy." His fingertips shifted down to slip between the lips of your pussy as he groaned out a curse. You were soaked. You opened yourself wider for him, arm moving to grip behind his shoulder for balance. His fingers dragged the slick up to your clit and back down to your entrance before finally, finally pushing inside you.

"Oh, God, Javier," you whispered, more breath than words.

You clenched around his fingers, momentary relief at the stretch flooding your mind before he began fucking them into you, building you back up to desperation. The heel of his palm hit at the hood of your clit perfectly with each thrust as he quickly found the spot that made your legs shake.

"Never would've thought you'd be this needy," he laughed. "Always act so tough with everybody. You're real cute. I love it."

You buried your face against his shoulder, doing your best to stifle your whimpers and ragged groans. You gripped his shirt between your fingers, hips pressing back against his hand as wet noises echoed in your ears.

He shifted underneath you and you felt his cock, firmly pressed against your hip. He ground himself against you, hissing out a moan. "You make me fucking crazy."

"Fuck, Javier, I want you inside me," you whimpered, any resistance to begging left behind in the dirt. "Please fuck me. I'll do anything."

His teasing patience seemed to break at your words. He made a broken sound, hissing out a "shit" before pulling away to desperately wrestle with his belt buckle and the remaining buttons on his underclothes. "You have no idea what you do to me. You have no fucking idea how many times I've thought about you saying those words."

You lifted up, giving him room as he tugged his pants down just enough to pull his cock out. He shifted his body to a slightly more stretched out angle as you straddled his legs. His heated eyes jumped from your dripping pussy to your face. He looked dazed and desperate and you felt the same as you kissed him.

His hands gripped at your hips, tugging at you to move closer. "Come here, let me feel you."

"You sure I shouldn't show you some unfairness now?" you teased, palm wrapping around his cock to drag his foreskin over his tip.

The withering look he gave you was priceless. You didn't have any more patience in you either, admittedly, and, after a kiss on his frown, you clambered up his thighs, holding him at your entrance. He pulled you down to himself and you let him, sinking down to wrap yourself around him.

The fact that you were still a dizzy, inebriated mess really hit you once you tried to move in any cohesive way. Your rhythm was sloppy and unrefined as you ground your hips against his, hands gripping his shoulders for balance. The pleasant, heavy drag of him against you was building you back up, regardless.

You grew impatient, though, and quickly became frustrated with the nagging complaints of your muscles, already tired from the day. Javier must have noticed as he gripped your hips into the right position before planting his feet in the dirt to thrust up into you, hitting you at the perfect angle. He fucked into you with a far better rhythm than you had managed, hard and fast. The sudden change of pace had you whimpering out a throaty moan. He kissed you, drinking down the sound with a shushing noise.

"Gotta be quiet," he whispered, chuckling and obviously damn proud of himself. "Still got people on guard duty." You sobered up a fraction of an inch at the thought. You'd forgotten your surroundings, wrapped safely in your addled mind.

A well-aimed thrust from Javier had your attention snapping back to him and slipping back into your own foggy world. You struggled not to let out another noise, only somewhat successful. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. His hooded eyes focused on you, tracking every twitch and show of ecstasy that slipped over your face.

The tug in your core was becoming more and more insistent with every perfect hit Javier landed. You knew what you needed as you slipped two of your fingers into your mouth. You moved them to your clit, pressing against it and massaging it in rough, hurried circles. It wasn't long before you felt your body tensing and clamoring for the release Javier was pounding you towards.

Your lips stumbled over his name, eyes squeezed shut, too overwhelmed to add visual stimuli. "I'm-" was all you managed to skip out before your mouth fell open in a breathy, too-loud moan. Your pussy clenched tightly around him, falling into trembling aftershocks as he kept pace, chasing his own end.

"Fuck, yes, you're so good. You did so good. Feel so good," Javier mumbled, praise slipping out of his mouth mindlessly. His thrusts became deeper, less coordinated. He hissed out a final "fuck," fingers digging into your hips desperately before pulling out and jerking himself onto your thighs.

The pair of you fell to the dirt, exhausted and boneless and feeling so fucking good.

Javier picked up the cigarette from wherever it had landed, wagging it in front of you. "Still have a tiny bit more. You want to finish it with me?"

You grinned. "Fuck yeah, I do."

You wiped your thighs off with your knickers, settling in his lap as you breathed down the last of the cigarette with him, inhales interspersed with kisses and laughter.

Yeah, you were gonna have to find some more of this marihuana shit.

[thenightgazer]

Spark of Stardust

Chapter 1 : An Interstellar Quest It's not a date. Vergil insists upon it, even when he doubts himself as he asks Lyra to accompany him to search for a perfect birthday gift for Kyrie. But just like the dying star that sparks its undying stardust; the "date" is just a start for him to get to know more about Lyra, as the librarian reveals her "little, deepest and darkest secrets"

Warning : implied psychological and drug abuse

Part 6 of Tales of Apotelesma

You can also read this fic on AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

~~~

It starts with a soft hand that brushes his face. The fuzzy sensation wakes him up. The lamp on the ceiling is the first thing he sees when he slowly opens his eyes wide awake. His eyes linger to his surroundings— and that shocks him because he’s no longer in his bedroom at Devil May Cry. He’s awakened in someone else’s bedroom. The wall is painted with warm colours and there is a large bookshelf besides the bed. When he turns his head to his left, he spots toys and trinkets which supposedly belong to a little girl, and there sits a young woman who smiles at him.

Where am I?

“How was your sleep?” she asks him. Her soft hand ruffles his hair gently. “You look so peaceful.”

He’s speechless. Not because he doesn’t want to answer, but his mouth won’t cooperate with his head. His survival instincts scream at him to get away from this situation, but all he could feel is numbness.

“I brought you dinner,” the beautiful woman continues. He observes her cautiously; she is approximately in her thirties, with long brunette hair and brown eyes. She looks like the kind of woman who looks absolutely harmless. The way her body moves is delicate. Her voice sounds appealing as she tells him the menu and hopes he will like it. She gives him the same warm impression as his own mother, but this woman seems shady. Her eyes remind him of someone... but he couldn’t remember the person. The same cold, void eyes...

“The nurse said you haven’t eaten since last night. You refused to take your medicines. Why? Don’t you want to get better?” Her voice turns colder. “When I heard that you refused to eat, I couldn’t concentrate on my work. I’m afraid you won’t get better. Now you will eat and take your medicine for me, okay?”

He can’t follow everything she has said just now. Who is this woman? What medicines? What nurse? But his head nods automatically as if his body is controlled by someone else, and that little gesture makes this woman’s warm smile appear on her pretty face again.

“Good. Let’s eat! After that, I’ll read you something exciting. How’s that sound?”

He nods obediently, opening his mouth to eat the porridge. He can’t feel the taste, nor can he sense the texture of the food. But the woman looks at him as if she would blast if he didn’t eat. The sound of friction between the spoon and the bowl drives him crazy. She’s making sure that he swallows the food as she cleans up his mouth. After the bowl is empty, she proceeds to pour something from a bottle—medicine— on a small spoon and look up at him, opening her mouth as a command for him to mimic her gesture. She seems delighted when he swallows the medicine.

“Atta girl.”

What is this nonsense? What is that thing she put inside me?

But he knows he won’t get the answer.

It’s all just a dream, right?

The woman walks to the bookshelf. Her fingers run through the book until she finds the one she desires. She sits back besides him again and opens the book, her fingers scan through the pages.

“You don’t like Cinderella, so I picked up this one,” she shows him the cover of the book. “I guarantee you’ll like it! It’s called The Hobbit, an adventure story. Your favourite, right?”  

I do like adventure stories. But it isn’t my favourite. It’s Dante’s…

She starts her storytelling in a clear voice. “In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit...”

There’s something in her face when she reads. She seems more relaxed and softer than before, as if she got lost in the story. His suspicion is surprisingly gone while he listens to her and the familiarity strikes him again. She reminds him of his own mother when he was a child, reading him bedtime stories. Cambions in their early childhood needed a lot of sleep just like human children, but Dante and he always refused to sleep early and asked for more stories. There’s something peaceful about this familiarity. It calms him, then he decides to close his eyes again whilst the woman’s voice slowly fades away.

---

The dream shatters as Vergil’s cell phone rings loudly.

The hybrid lays still on his bed. He was sleeping for two hours just because he had no other options left to do aside from sleeping. Yet, even though his body doesn’t particularly need to sleep, he hates it when his slumber is interrupted. His hand reaches to find his phone and immediately pick it when he finds it on the desk beside his bed without seeing who’s calling him because he doesn’t bother to open his sleepy eyes.

“Dad?”

That familiar voice forces Vergil to open his eyes.

“Nero?”

“Yeah. You busy?”

“No,” Vergil throws a blanket from his naked chest as he moves his body to sit and brushes his hair. “What’s wrong, Nero?”

Nero doesn’t reply immediately. Vergil can hear a heavy sigh from his son and that makes him a bit anxious.  

“Nothing wrong. Just...” The young devil hunter lets out another sigh. “Today is Kyrie’s birthday. She invites you and the crews for dinner at six. Uh… six as in Fortuna time, which is an hour later from Red Grave time. Just in case you got lost in time again.”

“Of course. We will be attending the dinner. Thank you for the invitation.”

“It’s Kyrie who invites you, not me.”

“...”

“... but having you around here is not so bad. The kids were always whining whenever you and Dante left the house.” Nero’s response is almost excited and eager, much to Vergil’s relief.

The picture of Julio, Carlo and Kyle somehow makes Vergil grins. “You did very well taking care of those little rascals.”

“Thanks,” there’s a pause before Nero continues. “Anyway, I should get going. Nico needs my help to do some crazy shit.”

“I hope all is well for you.”

“You too, I guess...” the young man clears his throat. “And... thank you. For accepting the invitation.”

“It’s the least I could do,” The blue devil smiles, his anxiety is gone as their interaction goes smoothly. “Carry on, son.”

“Y-yeah— bye, then.”

Warmth fills Vergil’s heart as he cleans up his bed and folds the blanket neatly. Never in his life would he have thought that he’d become a father. Even though it was unplanned, having a son does change his life. He has no parental figures to ask advice from and those parenting books are not helping at all, but he learns at his own pace. Two years of effort of atonement is nothing compared to his sins, yet he wants the very best for Nero and is very protective to him.

Then the word stings him.

Birthday, huh?  

Ever since he was a little boy, Vergil has never understood the concept of celebrating birthdays. For him, birthday is just another day to pass. If anything, it seems like people love to celebrate the day when their life spans decrease. People are getting old, so what? Why do we celebrate that irony? Is that because of the presents and cake? Little Vergil never found the answer, but he did feel happy whenever he received presents and ate his birthday cake, even if that means he had to share it with his twin, Dante (he had given up the dream of having his own cake, since being twins means sharing almost everything). He didn’t even think about birthdays until Nero reminded him.

I wonder if he knows his birthday...

Vergil walks to the bathroom and washes his face. He looks at the mirror and the man guy in the mirror stares back at him. His reflection somehow reminds him of the strange dream. What was that dream about? It seems visceral, like it was my own memory. His heartbeat gets faster when he has a dreadful negative thought that it could be Mundus’ mind manipulation. If that was Mundus, it’s too pointless. He’d use my own memories to torture me, not with some kind of irrelevant vision.

“Mornin’,” Dante shoves himself besides Vergil and yawns. “I’m hungry.”

“Pleased to meet you, Hungry.”

Dante bursts into laughter. “Since when are you into dad jokes?”

“I’ll take the shower first.” Ignoring Dante’s question, Vergil picks up a dry towel and gets inside the shower cubicle.

Dante takes off his shirt and stretches his muscles. He washes his face and begins to shave his beard. “You said you fought Angelo demons at last week’s gig, right? Heard from Lady the same Angelo demons got sighted at another city. We still don’t have any information on who created and summoned them.”

Vergil wipes the droplets of water from his face. “It seems like those Angelo demons were none like all the artificial demons we have ever seen before. Their form, their abilities, their durability. They looked rather... futuristic, I'd say. I got an impression that the new Angelo was created mostly by advanced science rather than magic.”

“Another thing happened these past weeks. There are three outbursts at restricted medical facilities in different cities.”

“What medical facility?”

“Trish said that the three of them were research laboratories owned by Ravenhill Corporation.”

“Isn’t that the same corporation that won a peace award or something like that?”

“Yeah. The Ravenhills are an influential aristocrat with power over the health and security industry. Most of the health facilities in this world are sponsored and if not, owned by Ravenhill Corporation. They have a branch company here in this city too.”

“And do you think those incidents have a connection with the appearance of Angelo demons?”      

“Just a gut feeling, but that’s worth investigating, better safe than sorry, aight?” Dante brushes his hair and flips it back like Vergil. “Hey, I look just like you with this hairstyle! Perhaps I should go with this style from now on.”

“If you’re done talking, get out of the bathroom.”

“This is MY bathroom!”

“And I’m the one who cleans up the mess you’ve created in this house, Dante.”

“Fine~!” Dante chuckles as he cleans up the remaining shaving foam from his jaw. “Have you bought something for Kyrie’s birthday? Got missed calls and a text about the dinner party from Nero.”

“Not yet.”

“I’ve been thinking of giving her a fancy revolver. Heard from Nero that she’s quite good at using guns.”

“... do you really think that women fancy weapons as a gift?”

“Trish and Lady do. But hey! You can go ask our clever librarian!” Dante's face lightens up in exhilaration.

Vergil turns off the shower and wraps a towel around his waist as he opens the cubicle. “What do you mean by ’our’?!”

“Yours, then. She’s a normal civilian woman. Perhaps she can recommend you a perfect gift for Kyrie.”

No, if only you know that she’s not normal! “... you’re probably right.”

A teasing whistle comes from Dante as he takes off his pants and walks inside the cubicle. “As Yoda said, Verge, ‘ do or do not. There is no try ’. Call her and ask her out for a date.”

“I’m not taking any advice from a man who has rotten luck with women. And who is Yoda?”

“Call it what you want it. If you’re not asking her out, I’ll go ask her by myself.”

“Not before I step over your dead body.”

“Ha! Someone’s jealous for realsies~”

Vergil walks away from the bathroom before his inner turmoil tempts him to try to kill Dante… again. His insolent brother might have been teasing him too much, but in a way he’s right. He needs to find someone trusted enough to help him buy the perfect gift for Kyrie.

But she’s on duty today is her work day. I won’t make it right on time to the party if I have to wait for her shift to end.

He’s still thinking about it when he enters his room on the second floor and grabs his phone. Lyra’s contact name is showing up, but he hesitates. It’s still 9 o’clock. The library must have just opened.

After having a quite long internal battle with himself, he decides to call her anyway.

It takes a little bit long for Lyra to finally pick up her phone. Vergil catches the sound of her voice and a man’s laugh who Vergil assumes is Nate. “Bugger off for a minute, will you? — Clayton here.”

“Lyra.”

“Oh, hello Vergil!”

“Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all! Is there anything I can help you with?”

“... yes.”

“Are you okay? You sound like you want to cry.”

“I am certainly not,” Vergil groans at Lyra’s giggle. “Yet, I do believe I need your help.”

“Name it!”

“... it’s about a birthday present.” Vergil clears his throat. “Do you remember Kyrie, my son’s fiancée? She will be celebrating her birthday this evening. She invited Dante and I to her house for dinner.”

“I see.”

“Kyrie has always been there for Nero,” he continues. “She helped guide him to become the person he is now. She took care of him while I wasn’t there for him. She’s an important person to my son. That’s why... at least I have to show her some respect.”

“By giving her a decent birthday present.”

“Yes.”

“I think she will appreciate everything you give to her.”

“She will, certainly. She’s too polite to reject a present, but I don’t want her to think that I’m a careless father-in-law by giving her a gratuitous gift.”

“You’re right. I’d be delighted to accompany you to buy the present, but…I’m on duty right now. I’m afraid I couldn't help you any further.”

“That I know. That’s why I call for your advice.”

“I suggest something small, but meaningful. You told me she love to sing, right? Maybe a vinyl of classical music would — what in the bloody—! Nate! Give me back my phone at once!”

Vergil hears them grumbling and arguing at something. He considers to just hang up the phone given to his hunch that Lyra and Nate are probably having a fight right now, but suddenly he hears Nate’s voice as the young librarian speaks to him.

“Mr. Vergil? It’s Nate!”

This scoundrel's audacity...! “I recognize your voice, Nathaniel. What are you doing with Lyra’s phone?”

“Err... sorry for the interruption, but Lyra forced me to tell you this myself, or else you won’t believe her! I told her that I don’t mind if she wants to go on a date with you! My father won’t be checking on the library today!” Nate lets out a dry chuckle to break the ice, but since Vergil says nothing, Nate continues to speak. “She insisted on at least working today, so I told her to finish the duty earlier so she could spend her time with you. That’s all! Oh yeah, a little advice here; Lyra has a terrible sense of direction, means that you should hold her close— ouch!”  

A sound of a book slapped on Nate’s head comes to Vergil’s ear. The next is Lyra’s nervous voice talking to him. “Vergil? You heard Nate. So... we meet at three. How’s that sound?”

“I’ll pick you up at the library.”

“Okay!”

“Then... I’ll see you around.”

“Cheerio!”

Vergil hangs up the phone, unexpectedly feeling the queasiness after he recalls the word ‘date’ as Dante and Nate said earlier. Foolish. We are not dating. We are just going to buy a birthday present. That’s all. Stop this unnecessary disquietude. It’s just Lyra—

“Tell me you’re not gonna go on a date with your boring clothes!”

Vergil hardly glances to his side and sees Patty’s figure standing by his door. The twenty years old girl is wearing an apron and holding a broom in her hand. “At least wear something stylish! You and Dante are all hopeless! No wonder the two of you haven’t gotten married yet!”

“I believe that’s none of your concern, Miss Lowell. And although I lack what humans would consider common sense, the last time I know about human norms and etiquette, that it is rude to trespass on someone's private space and eavesdrop on other people’s conversation.”

“I’m not eavesdropping! I just happened to pass this room while cleaning this house because lately you are not present in this house and Dante is being a lazy bastard as usual! Show some gratitude!”

“Thank you for your help. But as you can see now, I am here and that means I will do the household job while you can go disturb Dante’s peace now.”

“Hey! I heard that!” Dante shouts from the first floor.

“Anyways, let me help you to choose better clothes for you!” Patty insists. “I don’t know who this girl is because Dante won’t tell me, but she seems special to you. You need to dress at your best! Impressing a girl on their first date is a must!”

“I’ll forgive your impudent attitude this time if you kindly close the door, Miss Lowell. I need to put some clothes on.”

Realizing that Vergil wears nothing but a towel wrapped on his waist, Patty flusters as she looks away and grabs the door knob violently. “Fine!”

The blue devil chuckles softly when he hears Patty goes downstairs and screams at Dante for whatever antics that he does right now. He searches through his wardrobe, pondering if Patty was right. And maybe she is. He’s about to blend into society, that means he needs to look less suspicious. He should wear something casual and humane.

Humans and their fashion. Even demons are much simpler.

He picks some clothes with a hope that he won’t look too ridiculous.

---

“Do you think he’s the type of person who brings flowers for a date?” Nate throws paper planes at Lyra’s direction, which she blocks it all with a book.

“Why do you insist that this is a date? We are friends. Friends go hang out sometimes.” Lyra says.

“Dammit, Lyre! You are older than me but I can’t believe you’re so clueless about this. Even idiots could tell that he likes you!”

Lyra groans desperately. “That’s it. That’s the problem of modern society. People nowadays confuse politeness with flirting!”

“Sometimes both work simultaneously! And that’s the case of Mr. Vergil. Sure, he’s polite to everyone even though he always looks like he wanted to kill someone. But he’s different with you; he’s not just polite, but kind. That’s two different things!”

Lyra half-heartedly listens to Nate’s babble; despite she already knows what is inside Nate’s mind. She knows what he means about Vergil being kind only to her, and Nate’s mind interprets how soft Vergil is whenever he’s around her. The thought of those forms of romanticism confuses her. Being a telepath, she has seen and listened into people’s minds for almost her entire life. She’s no stranger to the concept of love according to universal belief, yet she still doubts its existence.

Sometimes, what people think about something isn’t always synchronized with how they feel about it.

And speaking of which, I haven’t heard Nate’s thoughts since fifteen seconds ago...

“He’s here!” Nate declares as he looks up at the window near the front door. “Wait, uh... is it really him?”

“What?”

“He looks... different.” Nate mumbles. “And he didn’t bring flowers. Guess he’s not the flower type of guy.”

“On the contrary, he is.” Lyra takes a brief look at her appearance in the mirror and puts on eyeglasses before giving a wink at Nate. “See you tomorrow!”

“Now who’s excited about the date!?”

She giggles throughout her journey to the front door, only to be surprised when she opens the door and finds Vergil standing in front of her and about to open the door too. But today he looks stunningly different; he is wearing as black shirt beneath a navy-blue casual coat. His dark trousers make him look taller than usual. He changes his footwear into a pair of black chukka boots. Even with his usual warrior clothes, Vergil Sparda is already breathtakingly handsome. His casual look just enhances his majestic stature.  

Lyra has never really given any attention to fashion, but now she can’t take her eyes off of him. “What’s with the sudden change in your sense of fashion?”  

“You don’t like it?”

“I like it!” she blurts. “You look… so… normal”

“Is it just me or does it sound like an insult?”

“It’s a compliment!”

“... thank you, I suppose,” Vergil reluctantly scratches his nape. “Shall we go now?”

“Let’s!”

Lyra glares at Nate who’s giving her double thumbs up and loudly wishing her good luck before she closes the door.

“So,” the librarian walks side by side with Vergil. “Do you remember I mentioned that I purchased my devil arm at an antique shop?”

“Yes. What’s with that?”

“I think it’s a good place to start our quest. The shop sells antique weapons, jewelries, old books and trinkets. Perfect collection for Kyrie.”

“Very well. Where’s this shop located?”

“Nova Town.”

“It’s too far from here.”

“Lucky for us, you have Yamato.”

“I’m beginning to think that you see me as a mere means tool of transportation.”

“Maybe,” she winks playfully. “But you are too decent to be a mere tool, my dearest friend.”

The hybrid rolls his eyes, “Let’s find an empty alley first.”

---

“That was the first time I saw Lyra smiling like that,” Nate mutters at himself as he taps something on his cell phone. “Good for her! Ever since I saw their chemistry on the murder in the library weeks ago, I know they’re going to form a relationship soon!”

The twenty four years old librarian giggles at his own fantasy while drowning himself further into a mobile game he always plays whenever he has free time. He almost startled himself when the bell rings and a customer comes in. Nate abruptly pauses the game and greets the guest. “Welcome to The Literarium!”

The guest — a tall and ginger-haired man — returns Nate’s greeting with a nod. A suspicion arises in Nate’s head as he observes the man’s eyes that are covered with sunglasses. Why the hell does he wear sunglasses indoors? He continues to follow the man’s movement, which is also suspicious. The man seems detached from reality as he stares at one of the shelves quite long without really doing anything, not even touching the books. He walks slowly to another section, again without any interest in the books. The man seems eager to look for something as he repeatedly tilts his head to look outside the window, but Nate is certain that he’s not here for books. Then why bother coming here if he’s not interested in books? Nate clicks his pen anxiously. Paranoia begins to consume him. What if he wants to rob this place?!

The ginger-haired man approaches the sale section and finally picks a book. He looks at the cover briefly before heading to the counter. Nate fakes a polite smile when he scans the book— Lord of the Flies by William Golding— and forces himself to make a small talk. “Fine day, isn’t it?”

The man nods while giving Nate his money. “I agree.”

“You like allegorical one, huh?”

The man furrows his brow. “Sorry?”

Nate lifts the copy of Lord of the Flies . “You don’t know that Golding wrote one of the best allegorical novels all the time?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know. I only recognized it as one of the bestseller books,” the man chuckles. His laughter surprisingly sounds very friendly. “I picked it because the synopsis reminds me of the past.”

“Jesus, what a chaotic past you must have back then.” Nate gives him the book and his change.

“Quiet so,” the man flips the page, but Nate can sense he’s focusing on another thing. “By the way, the woman who wears eyeglasses… She came out from this place with a man about five minutes ago. Does she work here?”

Shit, another Lyra’s admirer. That explains my suspicion! “Yeah. You know her?”

“She looks like a person I used to know. Quite different, but I spot some similarities.”

“Maybe they are the same person?”

“The same person?” the man chuckles again as he closes the book. “That’s impossible.”

“Why?”

“She died years ago.”

“Oh, man… I’m so sorry...”

“It’s fine. She wasn’t related to me, just a person I knew. At first glance, your friend looks eerily similar to her,” the man’s face abruptly turns into doubt and anxious. Nate swears he can see his hands tremble. “I was terribly surprised when I saw your friend out there. I thought the woman I knew was alive again. What is the name? Your lady friend, I mean.”

“Louisa.” Nate lightly says his lie as soon as he’s aware of the man’s intention. I’m not doing anything wrong. Lyra told me to fake a name in case some flirty bastards ask me her name.

“Louisa, then. Pretty name,” the man seems pleased at Nate’s answer. “Thank you. Lovely library, anyway. Good day for you.”

“Thank you. Happy reading and have a good day!”

He’s different from any of Lyra’s secret admirers, Nate feels uneasy about the man’s strange attitude even though the man has already taken his leave. He makes a mental note to contact Lyra soon after he closes the library. “That guy looks like he’s about to plan something fishy. But I can’t disturb Lyra and Mr. Vergil right now.”

Nate grabs his cell phone and restarts the game with a hope that nothing bad would happen.

---

She’s strangely quiet today.

Ever since they arrived at Nova Town, Vergil catches something unusual from Lyra. She guides the way to the antique shop without talking to him but carefully watches her surroundings. But at the same time, she seems to lose her focus and sometimes stares blankly at something. They have been walking for almost 30 minutes and they haven’t arrived at the antique shop yet. Also, that’s not the only thing from her that is unusual... “You wear eyeglasses.”

“Huh?” Lyra automatically touches her eyeglasses. “Why? You don’t like a girl with eyeglasses?”

“I don’t dislike it.”

“You have a funny way to compliment others, don’t you?”

“I have never seen you wearing eyeglasses before. I thought I was looking at a completely different person when you opened the door earlier.”

“I always wear eyeglasses whenever I’m out to shop, just for aesthetic purposes. I’ll take it off if that makes you uncomfortable—”

“Please don’t. You look lovely with that.”

“Thanks!”

“You’re welcome. Are we getting closer to the shop?”

“… I think so?”

Vergil stops abruptly, “Tell me we are not lost.”

“W-we’re not!” she stutters in panic. “I’m just having a little confusion here, because this town looks different from the last time I came here. It has only been two years and the town is already changing...”

“Are you even certain that we are in the right town?”

“One hundred percent certain!”

“Then tell me,” Vergil curves a devilish grin. “Is Nathaniel right? That you have a terrible sense of direction?”

A light blush blooms on Lyra’s face. “Uh... yeah— but we are in the right town! For real! Just because I have a terrible sense of direction, doesn’t mean I’m an idiot!”

“Yet we are lost, aren’t we?”

“We are not! See that monument over there? It’s the town’s icon. We just have to turn left to that road and the antique shop should be on the right corner.”

Vergil watches the monument that Lyra mentioned before he glances at her again with doubtful looks. “Alright, then. But why don’t you use… what is it again... GPS?”

“Later. I’m practicing my sense of direction by practicing my telepathic ability.”

“Does your telepathic ability have something to do with your sense of direction?”

“Since the murder in the library, I’m practicing to read people’s mind whenever you’re around me because your magical defense blocks my telepathic ability. Normally, all I need to do is just focus on their minds and find out if some of them have knowledge of the place I’m about to go.”

“Why bother? You still can read minds by touching their body parts.”

“That’s impractical! Not everyone wants to be touched. Just imagine if I need to touch a person with haphephobia.”

“I thought you like it when you don’t have to read minds anymore.”

“Just in case of an emergency. Who knows if we would find any strange cases again, or if I’m stuck with Dante and there’s an urgent situation where I’m required to smuggle into someone’s head.”

“Hold on. Your telepathy doesn’t work on Dante too?”

“I guess the power of Sparda includes protection from telepaths.”

“I see. Now I understand,” Vergil scoffs. “The reason why you were awfully quiet since we stepped in this town is that you tried to practice your telepathic ability to find out the antique shop’s direction, so you won’t embarrass yourself in front of me because you have poor sense of direction and you think having to use GPS would make you look unreliable as a guide.”

Lyra hides her hands behind her back and stares at the ground, which to Vergil indicates that everything he said is true and that she’s embarrassed to admit it. To be very honest, he doesn’t think that Lyra does something wrong. He just wants to clarify things behind her unusual behavior, but it unconsciously sounds like he’s scolding her for her little secret.

“Just use the GPS if you need it. You have nothing to be ashamed of. That won’t make me think less of you.”

Lyra seems to hesitate at first, but eventually shrugs and takes her phone out from her bag. Vergil quietly smirks at her surrender.

“Fortunately, we’re on the right track!” She shows Vergil the map. “Thank you for your encouragement, Vergil. That’s the longest advice you ever said to me.”

He shrugs it off. “I guess that’s what friends are for.”

“Still, that means a lot to me.”

“Just forget it. Then how’s your practice going?”

“Still doing my best. The first time I tried to read someone’s mind without touching them whenever you were around me, it was all nothing. But now I can see blurry images and hear buzzing sound!” She smiles at him, her eyes beam as she points at the rustic shop at the corner of the street. “Look! We've arrived!”

When Vergil enters the antique shop, he expects the shopkeeper to greet them with unstoppable pestering offers like all the shopkeepers normally do. That’s why he hates shopping. Thankfully the shopkeeper is sleeping on the counter, like she doesn’t care if someone steals one of the items. The shop itself is quiet and the goods are all unique. The problem is, Vergil doesn’t know where to start searching. There are many items that Vergil puts a certain degree of interest in—necklaces, bracelets, clocks, paintings—but he doesn’t think that it would be useful or meaningful to Kyrie. He starts to think about Dante’s suggestion to give her a weapon for self-protection. It seems easier than this endless searching.

“Do you know the biggest dilemma when it comes to shopping? You expect to find a certain thing, but when you’re in the shop, suddenly you’re not sure what to buy anymore.” Lyra chuckles at Vergil’s confused expression.

“Evidently,” Vergil picks an antique revolver. “I think I want to give her a weapon.”

“Is Kyrie an excellent combatant?”

“She can take care of herself, though she still needs a lot of practice, but she won’t survive a second if she had to fight multiple opponents.”

“Mmmm... okay but... how about something for protection from the demons?”

“That will do. It’s way more practical and useful.”

“Alright. Let’s ask the shopkeeper.”

Vergil points his chin at the counter. “She’s sleeping.”

“I’ll wake her up.” Lyra fixates her focus on the shopkeeper until she slowly raises her head from the counter table and rubs her eyes.

Vergil almost couldn’t hide his amusement. She can wake someone up from slumber? How advanced is her ability actually?

The shopkeeper yawns loudly. “Welcome. How can I help y’all?”

“We’re looking for an item for protection from demons. Do you have anything suitable for that?” Lyra asks.

The shopkeeper looks straight to Lyra’s eyes, then to Vergil’s. She sighs as she walks to the weapon cabinet. “I don’t have much of that, but I have this one. Take a look.” she mumbles, handing Lyra a red music box. The music box looks captivating with a rose pattern carved on the box. When Lyra opens the music box, Vergil recognizes the box is playing Bach’s The Well-Tempered Clavier.

“Lovely, but I don’t see what’s so special about the music box,” Vergil mutters his doubt.  

“Easy, dude. Push the button near the mirror to open the secret room behind it.”

Lyra does the exact instruction until the secret room is opened and reveals a golden bracelet inside.

“What’s that for?” Lyra asks.

“It will glow red whenever there's demons nearby,” the shopkeeper lights her cigarette and walks back to the counter. “When the bracelet glows, you press it and close your eyes, because it will cast a very blinding light. It’ll blind and burn demons and that’s the best time for you to run away.”

Lyra glances at Vergil, who’s examining the music box and the bracelet. She holds her giggle when she notices that the bracelet glows in red when Vergil holds it and abruptly puts it back to the secret room behind the mirror before the shopkeeper notices it.

“I guess the bracelet couldn’t distinguish demons and cambions,” she whispers to him.

“This should be fine,” Vergil forms a satisfied grin. “It has both protection advantage and aesthetical function. Perfect.”

“You take that?!” the shopkeeper shouts eagerly.

“Yes,” Vergil replies. “Is there a money-back guarantee in case the item doesn’t properly work?”

“This is an antique shop, dude. Some items might not working at all—”

“I believe I don’t have to repeat myself.” Vergil insists.

The shopkeeper gulps at Vergil’s unspeakable death threat within his icy eyes, knowing that there’s no use to argue with a man like Vergil. “Dammit, fine! Now can I get my money?”

Lyra howls with laughter, “Blimey, you are a terrifying customer.”

Vergil grins in pride as he heads to the counter.

---

The birthday party will begin in an hour, but Vergil chooses to spend the rest of the time with Lyra at the Sparda Manor. During the day time, they only meet in the library. That makes their little adventure today seem rare... and fun. Lyra buys them ice creams at the end of their journey in Nova Town. She can’t hold her laughter when she catches Vergil’s eyes sparking in childish interest as he holds his ice cream once the magic portal opens its way to the Manor.

“The shopkeeper was different from the one whom I met two years ago. He was nice and helpful,” Lyra murmurs, licking her bubblegum ice cream. “Guess he didn’t work there anymore. We get a sleepyhead instead.”

Vergil says nothing as he examines his blueberry ice cream cone. His memory of V eating cheeseburger hits him. “Why do humans think that creating something messy is a good idea?”

“It’s called innovation, Vergil.”

“Messy innovation.”

“As long as people like it, it is considered as a great innovation.”

He finally gives up and chomps his ice cream. “This is not bad.”

“Tell me this is not your first time eating ice cream.”

“I might be inexperienced in human lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean I never tasted ice cream.”

It’s strange, Vergil recalls the moment when they used to be strangers before Almagest helped them to get closer. Now they stand side by side and talk about stuff like old friends to the point where he could never get enough of her companionship. He lets her wander around his childhood house, even if he barely calls it a house now. He lets out a silent chuckle when she lifts a pile of rocks up to the air just to see what hides behind it, only to find another ruins and she’s slightly disappointed.

“For a second I thought your father was Johann Sebastian Bach.” Lyra looks up at Sparda’s family painting.

“You are not the first person who said that.”

She laughs. “Oh look at you… stoic since you were born. And I already got a picture on Dante being impatient while the painter kept asking him to stand still.”

“Pretty much correct. He complained how itchy his feet were at the end of the session.”

“Your mother was gorgeous,” Lyra admires Eva’s angelic stature. “No wonder Sparda fell for her.”

Vergil forms a wistful smile. “She was.”

“This painting reminds me of The Picture of Dorian Gray .”

“Pray tell, why?”

“Dorian sold his soul to the devil for eternal youth, and it decayed his self-portrait painting every time he did a sin. Of course your family portrait is a different case, but you see, your mother’s face is the only one that didn’t get burned by fire. It’s like a sign that she was the only human in the family…”

“And the rest of the family members were cursed by the evil blood that ran in their veins. That’s why the faces of the three of us were burned. That’s a picturesque perspective.”

“I didn’t say that demon is always evil—”

“I know. Still, it’s a good metaphor. Haven’t thought of it myself.”

“Why don’t you take the painting with you? People keep their family portrait in their house.”

“Dante and I agreed to leave it here as a sign that this mansion once belonged to our family. Besides, I can’t imagine such a painting to be hanged on the shop’s soiled wall. It would be a disgrace for the painting itself.”

“Now that you mentioned it, I think you are right.”

Lyra continues to lift some rocks and put it back carefully once she finds nothing interesting.. “Have you been in there again after you escaped the Underworld with Dante?”

“To collect mementos, yes. Though, as you can see, nothing much was left since Urizen destroyed the whole city. Not to mention almost all parts of the house were destroyed or blocked by pillars and huge stones. We tried to remove them, but it’d cause a domino effect throughout the manor and demolish it completely.” 

“How did it feel to visit your childhood home again?”

Vergil swallows his ice cream at once. He puts a handkerchief out from his coat and wipes his lips. “It felt mostly heartbreaking.”

“I see,” Lyra nods and gives Vergil a light pat on his shoulder. “Not everyone could even come back to the place where their trauma began. Not that it’s necessary. I just found it encouraging.”

“Speaking of memento, what was the most valuable present you had ever received?” Vergil curiously asks.

“Oh, we start to have a small talk now?”

“I thought we agreed to trust each other, don’t we? Then we should start from mundane things.”

“Alright. Make sense. Let me recall it… mmmm… oh right! A lyre!”

“You play lyre? Amazing.”

“I thought you were about to say ironic.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“You know, a lyre plays a lyre.”

Vergil smirks, recalling her remark on their previous little adventure, “You’re right. It’s ironically amazing.”

The librarian rolls her eyes as she bites the ice cream cone. “My mum bought me one for my fifth birthday. It only lasted for two months before I asked her to give me a harp for the next birthday.”

“Did she finally buy you a harp?”

“She didn’t.”

“Why?”

“She died before my next birthday.”

Vergil immediately stared at Lyra’s sullen eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles at him, chewing the last part of her cone. “It was a long time ago.”

Lyra has so many things she hides behind her amicable demeanor, and Vergil should’ve feel relieved because after all these months, Lyra finally opens up a little bit about her family, yet he doesn’t feel it at all.

“Were you close with your mother?” Vergil’s tone is full of consideration.

Lyra taps her fingers on her chin. “I guess so. We only had each other.”

“… How did she… die?”

The librarian smirks at him. “If I told you she fell from the tree, would you believe me?”

“Only if that’s the truth.”

She goes silent for a while, seeming unwilling to continue her story. She opens an empty drawer, looking at nothingness for a while. “You might’ve heard about her.”

“Your mother?”

“Uh-uh,” Lyra nods calmly, but Vergil senses a slight hesitation. “Her name was Asteria Crescent.”

Impossible! “The award-winning astronomer?”

“Astrobiologist, yes.”

“I see. That explains your fondness of astronomy.”

The first time Vergil heard about Asteria Crescent was when he was eleven years old, still homeless and constantly moved out from place to place in search of power. Asteria’s groundbreaking research of modern astrobiology broke the news. Her discovery led the scientists to rethink human’s position in this world and question the exact location of the Underworld in the known universe, considering demons as an extraterrestrial creature with its own origin and evolution. Demons and magic are inseparable, but Asteria Crescent was brave to make a further step to explain demonology in a scientific approach. Science and magic are two sides of a coin , Vergil recalls her statements. Science just has yet to understand magic.

“Asteria was a Titan goddess of falling stars and nighttime divinations. That suited her very well,” Lyra chuckles bitterly, swinging her hand to lift a pile of ruins back to its place. “I once wondered why she didn’t name me Hecate, daughter of Asteria and goddess of witchcraft. Maybe at that time, she didn’t have a thought that someday I’ll develop this… psychic ability.”

“The media never reported anything regarding her cause of death. It happened all so sudden, they said.”

“They always spoke highly of her. But when she died, they turned the story into rumors and gossip.”

“So did she fall from the tree?”

“She did fall.”

“But not from the tree.”

Vergil’s demonic eyes catch Lyra’s body slightly flinching, but she maintains her calmness and fakes a smile. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you further about your private life.”

“You entrusted me your biggest secret. I intend to do so. I’m just… not ready to open up, but I know that I want to.”

“When I said that we should try to trust each other, I didn't mean that you should abruptly open yourself to me.”

“Too late. Now you know I’m the daughter of a dead astrobiologist.”

“Why did you change your surname then?”

Lyra stops and gazes at Vergil. She seems anxious while glancing at her surroundings carefully, as if she’s afraid that someone else would hear them. Vergil slightly bows his body when Lyra whispers in his ear.

“I’m being hunted.”

The furrow on Vergil’s brow is going deeper. “By whom?”

“Someone who wants to abuse my power. That’s why I need to change my surname and hang out around wearing eyeglasses, so people won’t find out about my identity.”

For a moment, they stand still there, staring at each other’s eyes to find some clues. It’s logical that Lyra’s unique ability would attract power-seekers, be it humans or demons. Vergil knows it too well; the danger of possessing a greater power. A part of him wants to believe her words…

If only he failed to spot a subtle grin on the corner of her lips.

I would be absolutely fooled by her deception, Vergil grunts discontentedly. "You are lying, aren’t you?”

Lyra’s laughter echoes throughout the lake.

Vergil snarls at her unstoppable giggle. "Quite a jester, I see.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

Vergil doesn’t bother to reply, because he knows it would lead to another bickering. He doesn’t try to hide his amused smile too, even though Lyra teases him about the ‘sly devil smile’. To be honest, he couldn’t care less. He just wants to see her smile, her true smile.

Like the way she’s smiling right now.

“Do you want to have a look at the lake?” Vergil offers, trying to lift the mood. “There’s nothing left to see here.”

“Sure!”

They sit on the cobblestone pier in the lake while admiring the twilight sky. It’s Vergil’s favorite place, ever since he was a child. This place has changed; there are no more Qliphoth roots left and there are several trees and wildflowers growing on the land. The lake no longer contains human blood. It’s mesmerizing how fast time flies and changes the entire city.

“I used to spend my days here, reading and playing with Dante,” Vergil says. “We loved being here more than staying indoors.”

“I can see the reason. It’s bloody beautiful here.” Lyra mutters her admiration. She taps her fingers on the cobblestone playfully, causing a small rift in the lake.

“Dante once pushed me to the lake because we fought over a chocolate bar,” Vergil recalls one of his precious memories. “I pretended to be drowned. He pulled me out of the water and cried, pleaded to me for not leaving him alone and that he’s sorry. Promised me that he won’t disturb me again. Right when he shook my body to wake me up, I pushed him to the lake but he managed to drag me with him.”

Lyra can’t hold her howls of laughter. She chortles until her stomach hurts and her throat gets sore. Vergil swears he never saw her laughing like this. “I’m sorry— I— HAHAHAHAHA!”

“Lower your voice,” Vergil grunts. He starts to regret his decision for rambling about his childhood antics just to get rid of Lyra’s gloomy face. “You might end up choking yourself to death.”

“ Pfffftttt!”

“Will you shut up?!”

“Sorry!” Lyra bites her thumb to hold her cackle but fails. “I just… bwahahaha! It seems that ‘never hold a grudge to the people who wronged you’ is true!”

Vergil pulls her thumb away from her teeth, caressing her reddened thumb. “A little deeper, you would bleed your thumb.”

The careful touch from Vergil distracts Lyra for a while. It’s the first time he holds her without gloves on, and it surprises her how soft his palm is despite the fact that he is a warrior who wields various weapons. Her thumb slips lightly from his palm. “Even if I bleed, I got your Lucy Pevensie’s cordial to heal me.”

Vergil sighs heavily as he removes some strands of Lyra’s hair from her forehead. “I gave it to you for an emergency case only. The cordial was made mostly from demon’s blood, mixed with rare herbs and some complicated spells to make it suitable for human’s bodies. Even the bottle was made from demon’s materials to prevent physical damage. Trish produced only a few bottles of cordial, so use it wisely.”

“I will,” Lyra picks out the cordial bottle from her bag and shows it to Vergil. “See? I haven’t used it since Capulet.”

“Put it back into your bag before it slipped from your hand and fell into the lake.”

“Alright alright! Why do you sound a lot like my mother?” Lyra puts the bottle back into her bag.

“You are clumsy and easily distracted. I have to keep my eyes on you every time. It’s rather distressing.”

“I can take care of myself!” Lyra lays a punch on Vergil’s chest. “Remember, I weakened Phantom last week, so you devil twins could kill that spider easily!”

The cambion smirks disdainfully to her weak strike. He puts something off from the back of his coat and hands it to Lyra. It’s an old book with a black leatherbound with the title engraved in a beautiful golden emboss. “Your payment for escorting me today.”

Lyra observes the front cover with beaming eyes. “The Poems of Edgar Allan Poe...”

“It’s one of the mementos I brought from the Manor. I reckon you would love Poe, given to your fondness of horror and mystery.”

“Then I have to refuse! It’s yours!”

“I believe I made myself clear when I said the book is for you.”

Lyra was about to refuse again, but quickly zip her mouth when Vergil glared at her with his terrifying and undeniable gaze. He won’t take any ‘no’ from her. She flips the pages, and something almost falls from the book before Lyra catches it quickly; an antique necklace with an obsidian pendant. She takes a closer look at the pendant and recognizes the familiar white, shiny dots pattern on it— the Lyra constellation.  

“… did you pick this one too from the manor?” Lyra asks carefully.

“… it was from the antique shop.”

“I didn’t see you strolling around the jewelry section.”

“It was displayed on the counter. Nothing special. Just normal jewelry. The pattern just reminded me of you—”

Vergil can’t finish his sentence because Lyra wraps her arms between his waist, locking him in a tight embrace. He can feel the strange, but comfortable warmth fills his body as he returns to hug her without hesitation. Her body is so small and shorter compared to his height that he needs to bow slightly in order to balance the embrace. He loves her scent— a strange mixture of peach, black tea and old roses— and quietly inhales the intoxicating fragrance from her hair. He feels like he could do this all day.

“Thank you,” Lyra’s murmur vibrates his chest. “I’ll cherish this forever.”

“It's just a book and a necklace.”

“These are the best presents since the lyre from my mum!” she chuckles. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually hug people around.”

“Neither do I.”

“So let us hug a bit longer, shall we?”

“It looks like I have no choices but to comply.”

For a moment, they banish their distrusts about each other, breaking the adamant barrier and wishing the time to stop ticking.  

---

Yesterday, Lyra dreamt of a boy who wanders around a big house.

She thought it was just a meaningless dream, at least until she realized that she was the boy himself. She looked at her—  his — reflection in the mirror; the little boy was handsome with swept back silver hair and a black pajama. His serious and grumpy expression reminded of someone she couldn’t remember yet. She— the boy —wandered off around a big and dark house. It wasn’t her own intention; like her movement was controlled by someone else. She opened a chamber and let herself in. There was a woman who lay unconscious on the bed. Lyra could see traces of tears on the woman’s sullen face. Her body forced her to lift the quilt to cover the woman’s body and tip-toed herself out from the room.

When she was about to go back to her room, she heard a wheezing cry and followed the voice to the main hall. It didn’t take her too long to find out the source of the voice as her hand reached to open a white drawer, where another little boy with the same silver hair cried inside it.

“Vergil…” that little boy stared at her with a turbulent sob coming out from his mouth. “Father… you… you d-d-don’t believe that he died… r-right?”

I am…Vergil?

Does that mean that this crying boy… Dante?

The next thing Lyra remembered was she woke up with tears stream down her face like a waterfall, soaking her pillow. She was sure the sadness she felt in the entire dream wasn’t hers, but Vergil and Dante’s. She was going to tell Vergil about her strange dream when she saw the exact same white drawer in her dream at Sparda Manor, but she thought she was biased. Vergil had told her about how devastated his family was when they heard that Sparda was deceased, and her dream must be just her brain playing a trick to her.

But then she thought, Vergil never told me that he found Dante hiding and crying in that draw…

Tonight, Lyra falls into another strange dream. Even weirder and scarier. A titanic, god-like demon tortured her in the most unimaginably painful way. Her entire body was chained and spiked. The demon was merciless. His face was full of disgust and hatred as he spat her insults and penetrated her head with dreadful illusions she couldn’t even envision. He kept calling her “disgraceful offspring of the traitor Sparda”. It was only then she realized that she wasn’t herself, but Vergil.

Lyra fights herself to wake up, and is barely successful. The dream is too visceral that she almost still can feel the pain all over the body as she opens her eyes. Her back is wet from her own sweat.

Why do I keep dreaming of him? Moreover, I never experienced this kind of pain…

Does it have something to do with our accidental mind link on that day? Strange things have happened since then...

Her wave of thoughts are interrupted by the sudden thirst in her throat. She snaps her fingers and the light from the lamp brightens the bedroom. The door cracks slowly to open its way for Lyra. The librarian walks with leaden steps as she rubs her sleepy eyes. She almost stumbled upon a chair when she entered the kitchen.

“A cuppa sounds delightful to cure nightmares,” Lyra mumbles at herself, swinging her hand to summon a cup from the drawer. The cup flies and lands right in front of her, but she makes no further movement but staring blankly at the cup. Her body is still shivering by the imaginary pain from her nightmare.

“From all the people in the world, why does it have to be Vergil? This mind link is vexing me...”

The harsh cry of a raven causes Lyra to glance over the kitchen’s window. She curves a light smile while opening the window and lets a little raven enter her house. The raven lands on her shoulder for a while before flying around the house and lands on the kitchen counter.

“Where have you been, Corvus? Haven’t seen you for days!” Lyra greets the raven.

The little bird tilts its head and squawks. Lyra giggles as she pats the raven’s head. “Hey look. My friend gave his poem book to me and one of the titles is The Raven. I like it, by the way. And I’ve been thinking about him lately, even dreaming about him. To be honest, it’s disturbing. Do you think I should invite him here and tell him the truth?”

The raven gives her a nod.

“You are right. A cuppa is best served with a friend, don’t you think?”

Corvus flaps its wings eagerly. The black bird flies around Lyra’s head before making its way outside the house.

“Leaving already? You haven’t eaten yet!” Lyra shouts at the raven. “Alright then, send my regard to your girlfriend!”

Corvus squawks something like a curse, causing Lyra to barks in laughter. She heads back to the counter as she turns on the radio to entertain her confusing state of mind, picking the channel telepathically until she finds her favourite channel. She listens to the song while summoning her phone from the bedroom, tapping the screen until Vergil’s contact name pops on the screen.

Down in the willow garden

Where me and my love did meet

As we sat a-courtin'

My love fell off to sleep

I had a bottle of burgundy wine

My love, she did not know

So I poisoned that dear little girl

On the banks below

I drew a saber through her

It was a bloody knife

I threw her in the river

Which was a dreadful sign

“By Jove, that song is sinister,” Lyra chuckles darkly. Her solemn face is turning pale. “As for the poisoned little girl… well…”

She clicks Vergil’s name, waiting for the devil to answer with fingers tangled between the black pendant on her neck, hoping half-heartedly that he wouldn’t pick her call.

~~~

A/N : the song mentioned at the end of the chapter is “Down In The Willow Garden” by The Everly Brothers.

Tagging : @drusoona @harlot-of-oblivion @queenmuzz @shiranyaaww @andieperrie18 @rubixa-seraph @blooddrop-palace (I honestly forgot who to tag, so if you want to be tagged just send you reply or DM me! XD)

Masterlist | AO3

[barbika1508]

Perks of an open Pool (Octopus/SeaWitch!Yoongi x Human!Reader/ Smut)

Word Count: 9,4k

Genre: Fluff, Romance, PWP

Pairing: Octopus/SeaWitch!Yoongi x Human!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Breeding Kink, Mating, Dom! Yoongi, Brief Dom!Y/N otherwise Sub!Y/N, Tentacle sex

Summary: It’s just your ordinary mated type of a couple, living together, loving each other and getting frisky as anyone does, with the exception of these two as a limb or two more might be involved.

Authors Note: It’s basically tentacle porn, simple as that! So, enjoy it and if you don’t there’s plenty other things to read! Anyways hope you’re having a good day :3

 Why am I getting agitated? I was fine not even an hour ago, completely calm and collected. My fingers remain drumming mindlessly along the side of my laptop, as I keep staring at the beat and the waves it has created, listening to the same part of the song over, and over again. The repetition is irking me, the missing part just growing and adding to my nerves. And going down and through the 20 versions I’ve made of the beat, it’s not sitting right frustrating me by this point. This is supposed to be a simple pre-chorus to lead the song into the main part but why in Poseidon’s name nothing is working right?!?!?!?!

Beyond my own little world, I pick up on other sounds deducting movement. Noises of moving furniture and footsteps aren’t quiet anymore. The agitation from before in my stomach lessens as I glance at the clock, but the irritation remains as I continue glaring at the screen in front of me. Letting out a heated exhale I switch onto another track completely, knowing I have 2 things to tweak, but instead for some reason this feels like an entirely different song with a different meaning than it felt the hour before when I was satisfied with it. I just let my mood sour even more, today seemingly being against me creative wise.

My concentration is easy to break as something above me falters to the ground, my mate adding onto my frustrations as she’s taking her sweet time of doing whatever she’s doing instead of directly coming down to greet me, like it is the usual. Turning my head to the left, I’m still left amazed time to time at the concept of the house and her idea which she conceptualized.

This was after all her childhood home, but she bluntly went ahead and demolished half of it transforming the lower part of the entire house, which was built on rocks, into an open pool area of sorts. To humans, it’s a chill barbeque/ relaxing era with the pool being directly connected to the ocean, opening up to natural causes.

The pool stretches outwards from her relatively small house, but it has a shallow area where I am settled with a laptop and my gear all kept on dry land, meanwhile my lower body is submerged underneath the water, two of my limbs working lazily time to time, by bringing the water upwards to keep me wet. The tiled floor is smooth and comforting in a way beneath me. I know exactly where they stop and natural rocks begin to cover the sea ground.

Summers are of course always the best times to hang out in this area. But it has switched for me as well into loving it, which is an oddity. I am cold blooded through and through, I come from the debts of the ocean, where no human has even reached or even been to, where sunlight can’t reach anything. So, the contrast of everything was monumental, the biggest hurdle being the sun that hurt my eyes, the brightness almost blinding me at one point. But I’ve preserved becoming stronger than I once was, my whole mood and liking of summer changing into one of enjoyment. And it’s all because of her. In summers it’s easier for my beloved to spend more time with me in the water, and on land as it’s warm enough for her to sleep here, and stay and work and do whatever she wants to.

Even though I don’t look like it but I crave skin to skin contact with her, at all times if I can. Having her close, at and in arms reach means I can easily protect her from any harm, and bad. Nobody will ever harm her on my watch, that is a promise I’ve made to the gods, an oath to them and myself.

Upon my train of thoughts drifting I stumble upon an idea, fingers quick to act and move along, dotting down notes, which quickly develop the said idea long, from a mere image to creating a sort of a universe on its own. With only half my attention on what I’m doing I focus the other part of my brain on my surroundings.

I can hear my mates’ sweet tone, as she speaks to someone words pronounced sometimes clumsily but the giggles make it up for it. Frowning slightly, it takes me a moment or two to figure out that she is speaking over her phone. Good. I’m in no mood to have company or wait for her to be done being all polite and give them her attention which should be on me most of the time.

Besides she didn’t greet me this morning when she left for work, our everyday morning kiss being skipped. I need to get back at her for that. And yes, she will probably say she left me be because I love sleep, I mean who doesn’t but that isn’t a good enough excuse for me not to get a kiss.

I quickly examine how I’ve went on with the inputs into the music program, the newly created song filling my ears as I press play still working along. Some of my limbs come to life, playing around the water, hydrating my skin but also fooling around my mood obviously haven lightened up at the new discovery and creation thanks to my very own muse. I’m not entirely sure how much time passes on, as I get easily lost but I am aware when my mate does decide to finally descent down, greeting me. I manage a mere nod, still working ahead. I will admit that I am ignoring her on purpose, giving a bit of the silent treatment, upon her actions this morning. My kind and I as an individual can be very petty as humans can be too, but we can take it to extremes if we want to.

It isn’t until she is suddenly right next to me, her legs in the view of the corner of my eye. I slightly twitch as she bends down, knees buckling. Before I can jump in an attempt to grab her from falling, she’s right there her warm lips leaving a kiss on my cheeks, my skin tingling not only because of the warmth from them but also because of the innocent gesture. Turing to look at her in disbelief she has a bring smile on her face. There’s no irritation in sight on her, as I’ve predicted there would be.

‘’Hey there Mr. Grump.’’ She teases seemingly in a cheerful mood. She should be upset that I gave her back some of her own medicine, knowing very well how she dislikes silence between us.

‘’I’m not grumpy.’’ I immediately reply frowning as she starts to giggle instead. I take her in for the first time today. She has already changed, wearing a big white t-shirt that reaches till her mid-thighs while a black garment which is probably a bikini is visible through the thin material easily so. Hmm.

‘’Uh huh. I’ll play along with you. I’m the grumpy one, obviously.’’ She continues happily, still grinning her eyes seeming warm. She shifts on her bent position, sitting back properly while she swings her bent legs, and submerges them into the pool right next to me. Automatically my body consciously or subconsciously gravitates towards her.

‘’I take it, you had a good day at work?’’ I ask sparing a glance at my limbs as they are quick to raise up and eagerly wrap themselves around her ankles, and up her calves. She wiggles her toes, her muscles tensing and untensing briefly as she relaxes one hand finding one limb, as she starts to play with it gently the others eagerly following and raise up higher over her two legs.

‘’Very good day. We’ve got more funding, meaning the cleanup is continuing successfully and will go on steadily.’’ She’s quick to explain eyes on me, while I slide the headphones off completely to listen to her, my mood to create diming as she’s finally back.

‘’Hmm, I’ve noticed there has been more halibuts swimming around recently.’’ I note glancing at her seeing her eyes spark up instantly ‘’You should still consider cleaning the north west side first before moving onwards elsewhere, like I’ve suggested. Start by planting close at first, small things. you’re gonna see the fish are gonna grow it all on their own into a healthy ecosystem…if nobody touches anything around there of course.’’

She claps gently along nodding her head, in excitement and is quick to assure me that she has told her boss about my plan. She always gets this spark in her eyes whenever she talks about her job, being a Marine Biologist, these kinds of stuff just entrance her. Her words do start to falter, as I save up my progress along the way. The silence we fall into after she’s done explaining their plan too briefly, has me turning towards her noticing the content but small smile gracing her lips, as she stares down into the water absent mindedly.

‘’Are you okay baby?’’ I ask halting everything and turn towards her, letting my right arm rest over her knee as I move closer taking her hand into my own eagerly. Her smile widens, free hand reaching up to cup my cheek which she starts caressing with her thumb. She is way bubblier than this, whenever she’s talking about future plans on her days in general actually. This calm demander is worrisome.

‘’I’m perfect my love.’’ She replies leaning closer ‘’Just perfect.’’ Her words do make my heart flutter even more so when she leans in to kiss me on the lips. It’s still a bizarre thing, this human interaction that is considered to be so intimate. Something simple as kissing, lips pressing against one another. It works though, there is this spark that kissing ignites even in my own cold blood. I quickly return my own affections towards her with shameless eagerness, as I’ve been missing her for more than half of the day.

She ends up giggling into the kiss once I swipe my tongue over her lower lip, and teasingly start to tug at her legs, and hands. The kiss gets broken thanks to me smiling as well, her laughter being one of my favorite sounds in the world.

‘’Are you done for now?’’ she asks leaning on her elbows her body positioned in an awkward manner but she doesn’t move away or show discomfort.

‘’Yeah, the project I was working on wasn’t good either way.’’ I point out lessening my hold on her. I turn to my laptop quickly closing everything off whilst she sits up properly stretching out her fingers and arms. I push everything technology wise away, as it’s all propped on a self-built pillow and wooden plank which she made for me a long time ago. It’s all prevention from things getting wet, and despite her meticulous waterproofing and calculation of risks I still make sure not to ruin anything or take chances.

‘’Liar, I bet it’s amazing.’’ She mumbles. I glance over just in time as she tugs the white fabric over her head, which leaves her in the two thin pieces of clothing which are very offensive. I don’t understand why she isn’t bare all the time. I prefer her that way and it’s just easier. Life is easier without those restrains and barriers. My eyes roam quickly over the expanse of her skin, noting how her skin has been sun kissed today meaning she has spent her time out in the open. Before I can drink her up, she’s sliding into the pool, submerging until her chest a quiet hiss leaving her lips smile never leaving her lips. I push myself backwards silently sighing in relief as I let myself sink into the water, my skin feeling rejuvenated. I keep 3 limbs on her, raising them to hold her around her waist, while I sink further into the water and backwards encouraging her silently to follow keeping my head above at all times, eyes not leaving her for a second.

‘’It needs work.’’ I reply watching as she shivers for a while the contrast of temperatures too sudden. She looks unbothered stepping forward and follows along, moving her arms around warming herself up automatically. Turning towards her properly I catch onto her hands, her giggles filling the air as I tug her into me immediately wrapping myself around her protectively and teasingly as she can’t move a muscle in any way, she wants to my limbs making sure to hold her still. I automatically grin upon hearing giggles, as she lets me move her around trusting me whole heartedly even as I almost submerge her, but manage to hold her above the water level ‘’This is what you get for calling me a liar human.’’ I mock jokingly and push us away swimming towards the open ocean, bringing her along with me.

The colder and warmer currents, have her shuddering but she simply musses at me ‘’I’ll repeat myself; You are such a liar Yoongi-yah!!!’’ She exclaims grinning her hands finding their way to rest over my chest, as I move her to partially straddle me, the tiles below us being replaced by smoothened out rock. Stopping mid-way across the pool I stop us, taking in the cooler water currents that brush over my back and arm, whilst I hold her where the warmer current is floating around ‘’One of these days I’m going to make you admit that!’’ I only chuckle at her behavior simply admiring her and press a kiss to her nose quickly ‘’Yah!’’ the exclamation has me laughing, and half submerging underneath which leaves me unbothered ‘’Lets move on okay, pabo!!! Where are you even taking us?’’

And there it is her immediate curiosity, as she looks ahead at the vast ocean eyes falling back to glance along the rocks that same spark I mentioned before just burning up.

Briefly let’s mention the pool again…it might seem to the naked eye that it is in fact opened to the ocean and that it is welcoming anything in. Technically speaking it kind of is, but there’s a specially built underwater gate that prevents animals and other intruders to just float in into my home. Otherwise the benefits besides that ones are that it lets in fresh water and takes out the so to speak old one. Pushing us into motion in no time we reach the gates, which I prop myself onto holding her easily as her legs wrap themselves around my body, giggling as I brush the tip of a limp just bellow her exposed thigh to the edge of the undergarment ‘’I didn’t mean it like that.’’ her hand is quick to brush the tentacle away and to give me a stern look which she fails at because of her smile.

‘’Hmmm what a pity.’’ I reply faking disappointment, while she wraps her arms around me lovingly and despite her statement and action, she still leans in to kiss me. I sigh into the kiss contently, living the rocking motion of the waves that rock us up and down gently, while her touch is everything.

But were we are settled currently the sun is beating down on us, and it’s making itself annoyingly present by warming my skin up, even though I’m submerged more than she is. I do recall the north side which is just in front of me, being perfectly shaded the sun being blocked by the house perfectly so across the rocks on that side of the house.

Knowing when she’s getting low on oxygen, I break away brushing a strand of a lose few hairs from her face ‘’Are you in a mood to explore, my love?’’ I ask her curiously knowing her well enough to predict what her next answer is going to be. There’s a reason why I stopped here.

‘’Not really…’’ she starts hesitantly, glancing towards the ocean again. I’m reminded constantly everyday how much I love her and why exactly I do, and this is one of the moments as I take her profile in. Her eyes are focused straight ahead, expression portraying a longing for something greater, something she wants and has wanted her whole life. She doesn’t know it yet herself what it is, but the ocean is calling for her I know that for certain ‘’…I’ll need to refill the oxygen tanks first, we can explore another time.’’ She turns to me, with a smile. I can just feel how the tension melts from her muscles, and note in her body how she relaxes completely. But thanks to that I can see the tiredness resurfacing knowing she gives it her all at her work and for others.

My heart aches because I don’t want her to be tired, or worried and stressed at all. If it was up to me, I’d happily provide for us, find treasures frequently to afford only the best things in life, wanting to give her everything she wants and wishes for. But I’m being completely blocked off by her human stubbornness, her desire to work to a certain point infuriating but to another understanding.

‘’Whatever you want, my everything.’’ I reply leaning in to kiss once more. It starts out slow, lazy even as I brace her against the gate and let my hands submerge from her back lower to take a hold of her under her thighs. I love her legs, not only because they fascinate me, but because of how they feel under my arms and hands. Her thighs are an absolute delight to grab and hold onto. Don’t even get me started on her ass.

I smirk as I feel her tongue prod at my lip. She’s isn’t being forceful but she is playing a game plainly teasing me. I let her struggle on purpose, letting my hands roam over her thighs, fingers touching everywhere I can, while her own hands are rooming my back, then my neck, until she is cupping my jaws. I almost purr when she let her right-hand slide under my ear and into my hairline, nails scratching against my skull. My limbs practically vibrate, and on their own they wrap themselves more and more around her legs, for sure leaving imprint in their wake, but she told me countless times she doesn’t mind.

Sensing her growing frustration, I decide to let her have her fun letting her have some control, her tongue quick and eager to intertwine with my own. Her hand repeats the motion she did briefly ago, nails skillfully scratching me perfectly, causing me to gasp involuntarily as I tighten my hold onto her trying to tug her even closer which isn’t really possible anymore as I’m already crowding the very air she’s breathing. I want to touch every inch of her, my blood starting to feel as if it’s boiling. I want her. I want to eat her all up.

Just as I swipe my tongue across the roof of her mouth she is pulling away. Reopening my eyes, I notice how flustered she has gotten, breathing deepened as she half pants staring at me with darker eyes. I smile proudly seeing how I affect her ‘’Hmm I’ve missed you.’’ I find myself admitting running my fingers sideways and around to grab a hold of her glorious ass, the flesh smooth and oh so perfect in my hands.

She snorts leaning in to nuzzle her nose against mine, the ministration always endearing even though I’m still missing the point of it ‘’Me or my ass?’’

I muse glancing downwards, but end up looking straight up at her exclamation and how quickly she tugs her arms backwards to cross them, which only brings her breast to the front more ‘’Both.’’ I reply honestly which has her gasping. Now she is acting dramatic.

‘’Pfff sure. I see how it is!!!’’ She rolls her eyes looking away from me still holding her arms crossed, legs still wrapped around me, body slightly turned away. She’s adorable.

I squeeze her ass instead as an initial reply ‘’Babe, your ass is glorious how could I not miss it!!’’ she turns to stare at me in bewilderment, but the blush that’s getting more intense over her features is a dead giveaway that she doesn’t mind my crude words. My words aren’t even crude we’ve both said nastier things. Foreplays can be very fun.

‘’You just want me for my bodyyy.’’ Comes a reply which has her bursting into joyous laugher. It’s an inside joke between us from a TV show we’ve watched a long time ago. I only stare at her in adoration, as she throws her head back, hair cascading down touching the water even though she has it tied up into a mess ponytail. My entire focus is on her face, admiring in fascination at the way the side of her eyes circle slightly, the way she is showing her blunt teeth, nose slightly and adorably so scrunched. I’m fucking rejoicing as her laughter graces my ears, her voice shooting in general, but it’s her laughter and her giggles that melt my ice-cold slow beating heart any time.

‘’It’s a little more than that love.’’ I say smirking as she ends up chuckling at the end eyes finally landing on me once more ‘’I’m here also for the food, and music equipment.’’ I end up whispering. She bursts into another fit of laughter pushing me away playfully at first but ends up wrapping her arms around me, and to my surprise I’m getting an onslaught of kisses peppered all over my face.

‘’Help somebody I am being attacked by this puny human!!!’’ I fake shout simply raising my voice, which gets her to bite onto my ear the cheeky human indeed that she is. I gasp staring at her in bewilderment when she leans back to look at me, and shows me her tongue briefly.

‘’You are really asking for it.’’ I state as she scrunches up her nose and then puts on this innocent expression eyes darting upwards as if she has done nothing wrong ever in her life. I let my limbs crawl upwards over her lower half, as I’m holding her around her waist hands still on her ass to hold her steady.

‘’I am innocent, I have zero idea what you are on about.’’ She goes on further making me giggle, a few ideas popping in my mind with what I want to do to her.

‘’The only innocent thing here are the fish.’’ I reply to which she simply snorts glancing around as if fishes are swimming near us ‘’You on the other hand…’’ I end up sighing heavily, as I’m coming up with a lot of ideas, I know I won’t be able to fulfil all at once. Her stamina isn’t like my own, even though since we’ve been together the first time, she’s gotten to endure a lot more than what she was used to.

‘’Uh huh go on.’’ she says teasingly both hands ghosting over my shoulders, fingers finding the vertebrae of my spine. It has my shuddering for a moment, limbs relaxing slightly around her but wrapping themselves higher up one peeking over her shoulder only now I notice. I can feel the edge of her bikini bottoms, and I subtly try to move them to the side which so far is working as my hands are simply holding onto her flesh. The key to this method is going slow.

‘’Are you going to work tomorrow?’’ I ask keeping on a cool expression not wanting to give anything away, as my excitement is rising. If she says no or yes.

‘’Depends. I could not go.’’ She sings teasingly bringing her fingers to the nape of my hairline. I’m trying very hard not to just purr our loud, it feels that fucking good when she does it.

‘’That wasn’t a yes or no, my little human.’’ I go on giving her a more serious look, as I reach up to cares her cheek. She visibly gulps, eyes fixating onto my own.

‘’I’ll take the day off.’’ she replies with a more careful tone which has me smiling widely leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead.

‘’Good girl.’’ I praise her, feeling how her heartbeat is beating quicker. Her skin is still warm against my own ‘’Now be good for me, and climb up.’’ as I speak I move us further out, towards where a boulder is settled, having been rolled and cemented into an empty sloth perfectly and is the best resting place for her on sunny days, and on rainy it’s my napping rock. But in heated moments like these its perfect for something else.

‘’Yoongi-ah, should we move inside first…’’ she starts glancing upwards and back towards the beach and other houses nervously while I’m already maneuvering her upwards which has her yelping briefly voice getting cut off once her perky ass lands on dry land.

‘’I don’t understand where this shyness comes from on some days I really don’t.’’ I speak out loud more to myself, all the while I grab the two strings that are holding the bottom of her bikini together and easily undo them. The top follows expertly as two of my tentacles snatch the garment away.

‘’Yoongi!!!!!!!!!!!!’’ she half shouts hands grabbing onto my wrists, which does make me glance up at her in question, her hold lessening but remaining on me.

‘’Are you intentionally pushing my buttons today baby girl?’’ I ask letting two of my limbs let go of her calves to get a hold of her wrists.

‘’I’m not! It’s just, the beach is crowded and…’’ she starts to ramble. I take the chance of her brief distraction and worried glances backwards and around, to tug away her hands, easily pinning them next to her body.

‘’If you are so worried about others, then I suggest you keep quiet to not bring attention. I can help you out with that if you’d like too.’’ I grin in the end, and let one tentacle raise up over her still clothed core, and upwards her tummy, following every curve along the way. Regretfully I pass her breasts and let the tip start ghosting over her neck as she snaps to look at me her jaw locked tight. I keep heavy eye contact as she glares at me and tries to struggle, attempting to break free which is of course completely useless.

‘’This is not funny.’’ She goes on looking like she’s mad. You’d think she’s pissed off. But ohhh I know what’s going on in that pretty brilliant head of hers. This is turning her on. I can smell her besides the sea salt in the air, her pungent heavenly smell. Its why my limbs are already tugging the flimsy useless piece of fabric away and chugging it away which leaves her lower part bare to my eyes only.

‘’Oh baby, nobody is laughing.’’ I comment smirking ‘’Now, be a good girl and stay silent.’’

While two of my limbs hold onto her hands, I wrap two more around her thighs lifting and bending her legs, holding them wide open, meanwhile I eagerly lean down, poking my tongue out as I lick a long stripe from down upwards over her delicious core. Her breath hitches loudly, as I eagerly lick over my lips, then just dive in for more at first just blatantly licking her juices.

I can hear how she’s trying to keep quiet, but is failing miserably as small but noticeably loud mewls are leaving from her. Getting more serious and of course eager, I use my left hand to spread her lower lips revealing her folds properly. Perfect color of pink and a luring warmth and smells has me entranced. Happily, I dive down sucking directly onto the little numb that was so foreign the first time we’ve done this, but now I know exactly which flicker of my tongue can send her off. Hence why I start doing everything, to build her orgasm up quickly.

It has her reacting flawlessly and just as I’ve predicted in my mind. Her noises stat to raise up in volume, body bending backwards as she lies onto her back. Letting go of her clit, I teasingly lick over her lips giving her a second and then I’m dipping my tongue finally into her hole knowing it turns her on for some reason. A load moan tears itself out from her, which has me grinning smugly as I raise my head upon an urgent call of my name ‘’Yoongi!’’

‘’Yes, my love?’’ I ask ready to argue in return but what I’m met with is a desperate expression, cheeks completely flushed as she opens her mouth, sticking her tongue out as if to show me it.

‘’Please.’’ She suddenly begs. The way she’s rendered, the visuals are just stopping my brain from functioning normally for a moment. My blood has speed up, and my nerves are starting to tingle more and more, as I myself get turned on and at attention, body buzzing.

‘’Please what? Use your words, you are my good girl after all aren’t you?’’ I tease her happily smiling wider at her eager nodding.

‘’I’m your good girl. Please, I want…’’ she pauses but doesn’t remove her eyes from my own ‘’I want you in my mouth.’’ She almost whispers. I don’t push her on, and accept it as good enough.

‘’You are a very good girl today, my sweet, sweet human.’’ I coo, tilting my head ‘’There you go, gorgeous.’’ I watch as the tentacle that I left at her neck, raises slowly. She raises her head looking absolutely greedy to have it in her mouth. Teasingly slow I hover it near her mouth, while my fingers absently play with her folds tracing her lower lips. The initial touch has her flinching briefly in surprise eyes darting down to meet my own, as the pads of my fingers brush over her clit. So easily distracted. While her eyes and attention are focused on my ministration I watch giddily almost as the tentacle slips down, over her lower lip and into her mouth filling it. The warmth sends a brief shiver to run over me, but otherwise the feeling of her throat closing in and the choked sound that arouses, has my hunger raising.

‘’That’s it.’’ I coo, pulling the tentacle out letting her regain her breath just to push it back in, her throat this time accepting it properly. Her glossy eyes remain on me, obediently so as I fill her mouth, and stretch out her throat more and more, keeping in mind that she needs to breathe now and then, slowing my ministration just for her. Setting up a rhythm, I smile hungrily as I look down at the redness that’s starting to replace the pinkiness. Closing my eyes, my tongue finds her heat, tongue eagerly once more scooping the gathered wetness, as I taste the tanginess of her juices.

At a particularly well aimed and manoeuvred tongue swipe, she mewls and chokes on the tentacle in her mouth, the sensation of her throat closing in around tightly, has me shuddering harder than before. Reopening my eyes, I watch my limb retreat her chest rising and falling as she catches her breath, eyes ready to spill with tears at this point. A trail of saliva is still connected with the top and from her lips. She is absolutely fucking gorgeous.

‘’Yoo-n-gi…’’ she manages voice slightly rough. I haven’t pulled my mouth of off her, so instead I simply start sucking, and licking, building up a combo while with my right hand, I slowly prod at her entrance, my fingers which have dried now getting coated in her flowing juices. More sounds spill from her parted lips, breathless and whiny ones, as I let the tentacle slip inside her mouth once more muffling those glorious sounds. I don’t force it in this time, letting her suck onto it, her tongue quick to dart around it. It tells me that she isn’t distracted enough, even though her eyes are shut tight eyebrows furrowed, her fingers and toes curled up.

I start to push my middle finger into her tight and wet heat slowly loving the way she clenches up, the sensation on its own has a rather violent but invisible to the naked eye shudder run down my human spine, which then spreads and vibrates briefly all over my limbs that freeze for a second, but then just tighten their hold onto her. My precious human. Everything has me boiling on the inside, the visual, the sensations, her smell, her noises. It has me restless, has me wide awake and feeling so alive. Every piece of me wants her.

Knowing her body, instead of teasing her further or going slow by opening her up gradually, I let my pointing finger slide in next, a tiny bit forcefully as I do meet some resistance. Her body tenses, as she half sits up her yelp getting muffled.

‘’Shhhh…’’ I coo smiling letting two of my biggest tentacles reach around her to hold her up in the half sitting position she has put herself into ‘’Relax my love, just relax for me.’’ I encourage her, watching the sweet delicious tears run down her cheeks as our eyes meet. They aren’t there because she is hurt, but because she is overwhelmed with all these sensations.

I tug my fingers out and push them back in while maintaining eye contact, and slowly raising myself up to be closer to her ‘’That’s it, my good girl, doing what I tell her to do, hmmm.’’ I hum in the end, loving the obedient and almost innocent look she gives me. She is starting to get really desperate by the on flow of whines, and thighs which start to tremble now and then.

As I pull my limb back from her mouth, it falls open droll dripping from her slightly bruised lip. Gathering strength not to hurt her, I push my body upwards to reach her mouth, eagerly licking over her lips distracting her as she chases my tongue with her own. Now half propped up I readjust my position on the edge of the rock, and haver her legs spread but around me, using my left arm to hold her up, while with my right I can finally start to finger her properly and the way she wants me to, curling them up and scissoring them once I slow down my thrusts.

She cries into our kiss, tensing up once more, as I aim for her g-sport which has her crying out, incoherent words spilling. I grin wildly and lean my forehead against hers holding her still and tight against me, absolutely loving how she has clenched around my two digits.

‘’Use your words my little human.’’ With that I slow down, the action itself has her immediately nodding eyes meting my own in clear distress.

‘’P-please Y-Yoongi, please I wanna…I wanna cum, please Yoongi, my love, please, please, please don’t stop.’’ She cries with more tears spilling down her cheeks as she starts to tremble, her high near but fading.

‘’Then cum for me, gorgeous.’’ I whisper letting go of her wrists so she wraps her arms around me, body tensing and straightening up, as I resume to finger her towards and through her high, maintaining it and intensifying it. Instead of shouting out, I feel her blunt teeth sink where my shoulder meets my neck, while her nails dig and drag into my back leaving red marks over my skin. I groan at the burn, the tingling in my spine and vibration from my limbs an indictor how I’m boding.

Not wanting to be cruel this time, I start to slow down, coming to a stop slowly her body mimicking my touches as she eases down. Pulling my fingers out regretfully so to be honest, her body suddenly all but collapses onto me. I start to hum a song I’ve learned a century ago, and just hold her close to me, loving how she radiates heat and projects it onto me warming my cold self-up.

We are left in a comfortable silence, even when I lower us down into the water after licking her juices from my fingers. A quiet hiss leaves her lips, but she doesn’t protest or makes an attempt to move, as I push us away and lower us until only our shoulders and collarbones are sticking above the water. I let my limbs caress her body, and trace her skin gently as the ocean current would. No surprise is that even though I’m trying my best to let her gather herself I am getting very impatient, with my own needs.

So, I start by portraying it, by pressing open mouthed kisses over her collarbones, enjoying also as I submerge my face under water. I can hear her chuckle, as I leave marks in my wake, but upon her more awakened state I start to raise up, still marking her up happily and let my hands cup her ass again, pinkies tracing the juncture of her legs towards her folds again.

‘’Every time I think humanly so may I point out…’’ she starts tone unhurried and not so husky anymore. I let two of my limbs raise over her hips, up her ribs in the meantime ‘’…I think; “It can’t get better than this.” But yet you always leave me…’’

‘’Fucked right out of your mind?’’ I finish her sentence smirking as I still remain marking the side of her neck. Regretfully so I will have to heal the marks, as humans are ridiculously so timid creatures at certain things. She chuckles at my statement, gasping at first which turns into a moan, as the two tentacles have wrapped themselves around her breasts, the tips now playing with her perky nipples.

I glance downwards watching them raise up and down, noticing how her skin breaks into goose bumps.

‘’Basically.’’ She breathes out looking down at me. I smirk to myself rolling my shoulders, as she leans in this time hands reaching up to cup my face, but she doesn’t kiss me. She presses a kiss to my cheek and leans closer, lips touching over my ear ‘’Fuck me, Yoongi-ah.’’ she whispers.

Another spark goes through my system, which has me vibrating practically, and changes my soft look into a hard one as I stare at her as she has moved back, and is now biting onto her lower lip. It’s a rule that she isn’t allowed to do that. Only I can bite her lick. (And no this is nothing like 50 shades)

‘’You need to rest my love, you…’’ she leans in to kiss me, stopping my train of thoughts all together. It’s not only me that has a huge effect on her, she can also completely change me, my thoughts, my mood, my everything basically. A mere human. She truly is something else.

Her kiss becomes demanding quickly, body leaning forward shoulders squared up as she takes complete control over the kiss. I’m surprised once she starts to move her hips. Tries to as she is entirely leaning onto me having no proper support around us. So, I help her slightly, by pushing her back against the rock again, one of her hand momentarily leaving me, so she can brace herself back against it. I can feel her smiling into the kiss, breaking it but she isn’t letting go, her right hand which has been supporting the back of my head, has her fingers curling and tugging onto my hair making me groan quietly at the tug and pull, meanwhile her other hand is quick to find its place over my chest, lowering down over my right nipple. Her touch is brief as she continues to move her hands lower.

‘’I should return the favour.’’ She says sensually her hand still lowering, ignoring the small tentacle that eagerly wraps itself from her wrist to her elbow just caressing her skin and holding onto her.

‘’We don’t have time for that baby.’’ I reply trying to stay calm. Even though she is my mate, and we’ve been together for what feels like an entire lifetime it’s still not completely easy to reveal all f myself to her. I still get nervous, when we’re intimate. But I’ve gotten good at hiding my feelings and nerves away.

‘’Alright then.’’ she sighs sounding disappointed but licks her lips teasingly and as if quietly saying ‘Guess you’ll be missing out’. I shudder as her fingers trace the front tentacles, not really intending to play with them. She does have to lower herself down to reach what she wants, but stops mid-way, face slightly lower than mine is as she readjusts herself and her hold on me ‘’Yoongi.’’ She whispers staring straight at me hands tightening their hold ‘’I want you to fuck me.’’ she states completely calm hand suddenly raising up cupping my cheek the coolness and wetness from the water slightly calming me down ‘’Do you want to fuck me, my love???’’ I simply blink staring at her trying to calm myself down as I nod at her question ‘’I’ll keep my hands here alright?’’ she goes on wrapping both arms around my neck, and intertwines her own fingers, while she wraps her legs around my body her knees tucked where my human hips would be ‘’Please, fuck me.’’ she whispers not doing anything ‘’I’m so wet and ready for you, my mate.’’

Even though I tried to hide my nerves, she saw right through me. My mate. I press her against the wall gently letting my limbs do the work as to anchor us against it, so we aren’t moving too much thanks to the reappearance of the waves that is making the pool unsteady enough so that with a small mistake something bad might happen.

Not saying anything yet I reach with my human hand up and take her right into my own, kissing the top part of it, before lowering both hands down underwater. Her expression does change into a surprised one at the beginning, mouth opening as to say something but she simply closes it, her gorgeous eyes focused onto my own. Even though we aren’t physically connected right now, we are one.

I watch as colour returns to her cheek, turning it into a more intense pink-ish colour. I can feel her body warming up, blood rushing through her veins, same as her heart spiking in excitement. A few shudders one after another just shoot down my spine, and it is a human trait I’ve learned, but fuck the sensation thanks to it, has me experiencing something no one of her own kind would, on the male side. Readjusting my grip, I cup her hand instead over the top part. I lean into her but this time, I rest my forehead in the crock of her neck, staring down watching our hands through the water. Finally, I move our hands forward stopping before my body. A short gasp leaves her lips as I just hover our hands close, meanwhile the pit in my stomach start to boil in excitement. My cock isn’t necessarily like my limbs, I can’t really control it per say. It has humanoid traits but it doesn’t act like a tentacle it’s hard to explain it. Letting go of her hand, I reach in to grab a hold of it feeling how much it has filled up and grown. I tug it forward to the front, past the cosy and safe confine of my other limbs. Some sort of goose bumps raise over my skin as well, as I feel very exposed and vulnerable, even more so when the tip of her fingers touches the head.

A gasp involuntarily leaves my parted lips, but she’s quick to press a reassuring kiss to my cheek, her right hand that’s been resting on my shoulder, kind of gripping it in anticipation or excitement, loosens up and reaches up to my hairline again nails scraping against my skull which has me relaxing slightly.

‘’May I?’’ she asks calmly, her breath fanning warmly over the side of my neck. I barely manage a nod but she understands it perfectly. Instead of grabbing onto my dick as I thought she would, her fingers touch my wrist instead at first. They gently caress it, and lower themselves down. I automatically tense up once, the tips of her fingers are touching just over the base of my cock where I’m holding it. It’s such a contrast her touch against my own and it’s not only temperature wise.

I start biting onto my lower lip, eyes closed and just feel, how she gently traces my dick as if she’s doing it the first time (She isn’t just let me clarify, but it is rare and special whenever I let her touch me like this). Her hand finally wraps itself around me, in the middle but pulls up towards the head, which is very sensitive and has me hissing, my dick practically twitching and following her warmth on its own.

‘’Hmmm Yoongi-ah.’’ She moans softly, fingers brushing the tip again which has me letting out a faint sob ‘’Shhh it’s alright my love…’’ her hand circles around my cock again, but lowers down towards my hand again ‘’Will you fuck me my love? Will you fill me up so that I’m leaking for days?? I want you to fuck me, so I won’t be able to walk tomorrow, I want to feel you in my womb, want you to fill it all up…’’ I’m surprised at the change in her, the submissiveness from before replaced by this strong and dominant presence she has put on.

And her words do have a tremendous effect on me. They have me buzzing, wanting her more, want me to fulfil every wish she has. Again silent, I grab onto her wrist and pull our hands upwards, at the same time leaning backwards noticing that the sky is setting, with the sun sinking over the horizon. But that doesn’t matter. When I look at her, her hair has dried up, cheeks not so pink anymore.

‘’Yoon…’’ before she can finish or properly start her sentence, I grab her by her throat and squeeze while at the same time, I grab onto my cock again and easily manoeuvre her how I like, by spreading her legs wide open whilst at the same time, I let another tentacle to raise up and slide into her mouth, letting go of her neck not wanting to actually choke for real. The two tentacles from before that have just been caressing her breasts now tighten as well, and another two joins to wrap themselves around her nipples. Two more make sure her arms remain under my control.

‘’Fill you all up huh?’’ I start with a deep tone readjusting half of my limbs and drag her backwards towards the shallower part of the pool and away from any unwanted eyes. The only lights that are always turned on are the pool ones ‘’You don’t want to walk tomorrow huh little human? Want me to fill you up so that you’ll be leaking, your womb filled up for days?’’ she eagerly nods at my word’s eyes glassing over as she reverts back into her sub state.

‘’I don’t think you can take it.’’ I challenge her, eyebrows furrowing as she turns to glare at me. I simply let the tentacle shove itself further into her throat, feeling it start to close in. But she still glares at me defiantly, like she wants to say something. With my right hand, I simply let it run over her exposed pussy. I let my middle and pointing finger trace lower to her asshole which has her body tightening up ‘’Your little human body, can’t take me whole darling.’’ She starts to properly choke pretty tears glittering as they fall down from her eyes. Pulling the tentacle out she gasp for breath, heaving. Meanwhile I finally find the perfect position and sit on the smooth ground. Getting a hold of her hips I straighten her up, arms locked behind her back tightly.

I grin widely as she looks at me ‘’I’ll split you wide open, is that what you wish for??’’ I ask casually while she stares at me still in defiance before something in her brain clicks and the desperation slips back in.

‘’Please.’’ Her voice is gone, but I understand the word she mouths.

I don’t even give her a heads up, as I raise her above me, bend her knees and plant them on the floor. I let some of my limbs attach themselves on her, as I take a hold of my cock and start to force it into her. She gasps and mewls her body’s natural reaction at first is to run away from the intrusion. We’ve been over this so many times. It’s all natural, as is the size of my cock which is above average, and I’ve put that into human terms, her quote directly.

My mouth falls open, as the head of my dick enters her, and eagerly wants to chase after the warmth. And yet despite the onslaught of pleasure that’s overwhelming me in waves, I hold myself back just to stare at the way her eyes roll back, and feel how her thighs and forearms tense up meaning her fingers and toes are already curling up. Her head falls backwards revealing her half marked up neck. I mimic a human way of mating which is; a thrust. It has me entering more halfway to be precise but she suddenly shouts out body jerking and then going limp only her hips briefly shaking until they stop. I smirk staring as her head falls forward, to which I cup her cheek and take a look at her. The moisture on her skin is from sweat, the sight bringing a chuckle to rise from my throat, as she continues to breathe deep eyelids half closed not leaving my own eyes.

I readjust myself slightly, and grab a hold of the bottom of my cock, to help and guide it properly into her. The waves of pleasure are still going through me, my spine tingling more and more demandingly. But I ignore my own pleasure at the moment in favour of making sure she’s alright. I set her hands free and take her weight off her legs, settling her so that she’s simply straddling me arms resting between us limply.

‘’Fucked out 2 times, another point for me.’’ I state as I sit up and start marking her left side eagerly loving the still unusual taste of her skin.

‘’It’s not…’’ she starts tiredly ‘’It’s not a com…’’

‘’Not a competition yeah, yeah.’’ I chuckle in the end, licking the shell of her ear before I look at her, at her heavy eyelids that are slowly rising and falling as my cock continues to pulse inside her ‘’Do you still wish to continue my love??’’ cupping her face I look at her with such adoration, because she is my everything. Truly she is the reason I’m living and alive. And I’d give anything for her to be happy an get whatever her heart desires.

She lets out a groan of what sounds of discomfort, and closes her eyes briefly. Looking at me a smile stretches across her lips ‘’So full. M just…’’ She trails off looking intoxicated making me grin and nuzzle my nose against her a trait that she likes to do to me, as it is considered childish.

‘’Hmm yeah? Are you feeling good baby?’’ I prod on, waiting for her to get comfortable enough to continue.

‘’So-o goooddddd.’’she practically purrs her fingers that are resting on my lower abdomen, curl up as she attempts to rolls her hips. And that is a sign to continue. I simply hum in agreement, and move her body up slightly so there’s enough room to start fucking her ‘’Ahhhh..’’ she gasps head falling forward again, but this time her eyes remain open as she stares down. I know for a fact that she’s trying to see through the water as much as see can to see us connected. I find myself getting breathless the more times I tug out and re-enter her, the tightness the heath, the feel of her velvety walls all around me, are starting to feel overwhelming. Giving in, I let her be as I lie back getting submerged all besides my face while I let myself get overwhelmed by everything.

It’s easy to succumb to pleasure, especially given how much she is giving me; because she is giving me literally everything. Everything starts to feel too much, but not enough. It’s never enough. I can hear her moans, how they roll of her tongue the sounds matching to those of an angel if you ask me. And through hooded eyes I watch as she moves her hand, placing it over her own stomach. When she presses against it, I can feel her hand. She tears her eyes away and up to meet my own, a goofy smile adoring her lips suddenly.

‘’I-I-I love y-y-you…’’ she manages out, those simple 3 words warming my cold heart every time she says them.

I push myself upwards bringing my own hand over hers  ‘’I l-love y-you too, Y/N.’’

Her thighs start to tremble again, hands reaching for something to grip onto, which again end being two of my tentacles that eagerly wrap themselves over her forearms. Her strength isn’t enough to hurt me at all no matter how strongly she squeezes. Meanwhile my hand remains pressed plat over her stomach, and I just remain half in awe as I feel myself move in her, reaching and brushing up against her womb. By this point she has gone quiet, breathless, and speechless from how overwhelming it must be. Glancing up I watch as and can feel as her orgasm hits her and takes completely over, her mind and body. As I feel her tummy, images of children running, and swimming some that look like her other like me, running around fills me up with joy and excitement. But the sight of her so undone and vulnerable that alone…it’s all because of me. The only person the only being I’ll ever be so open with, the only one I care about, my heart, my body, my soul all belong to her. Everything.

With those train of thoughts and the actually imagine of her with a big belly, it has me spiralling over as I finally let myself get washed away with the tide.

I still am aware on what’s going on around us, I hold her close to me feel her hand wrap around my back, hold me in return. I can fee her lips press kisses to my neck, my cheek, I can feel them moving and faintly can hear her sweet tone. She’s singing. Huh. A siren. I always tease her that she has sirens blood in her, but she always denies it. So, if not a siren she is an angel like I’ve mentioned.

‘’Yoongi-ah.’’ She whispers her tone clear. I spread my fingers testing out how my limbs work, my other limbs which are submerged in the water as most of my body has sunk down work normally still tingling all over. I reopen my eyes seeing her smiling widely. I don’t even remember closing my eyes let alone lying back down again, my mind having shut down for a while. She’s leaning above me, comfortably lying over my front and is running the pads of her fingers over my face, with this far-away look again in her eyes. But once they met mine its like she has found herself again ‘’I love you.’’ She whispers again, eyes crinkling as she smiles looking genuinely happy.

I find myself smiling easily in return at how ridiculous my human is, but look at her and remove my hand from her belly to cup her cheeks that are still warm ‘’I love you more, my sweet human.’’

Copyright 2020© by barbika1508. All rights reserved.

[thefanficmonster]

My Warrior

Daniel x Taylor (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope)

Warnings: !Spoilers!, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Summary: They have all made it out of there. They’re safe from the real horrors, but the scenes that have been imbedded into their minds keep haunting them. They are left with scars to their subconscious as well as scars on their skin. Marks to remind them of what they went through. What they survived. Taylor can’t stand them - the burn marks on her skin and the scars that night left on her. She’s struggling way more than she’d like to admit. But there’s someone who sees through her toughness.

Requested by @chairtiger Hello there my chaotic co-cult leader! Sorry to be posting your request so late 👉👈 hope you understand and forgive me for the long wait. I had a blast writing the fic and I hope you enjoy reading it. Anyway...SHIP DAYLOR FOR CLEAR SKIN EVERYONE...Love, Vy ❤

“Fucking hell, this is torture.“ Taylor groans as she runs a make-up wipe over her foundation-covered, bruised skin. Underneath all those layers of foundations are the marks she’s been so desperate to hide - the reminders of that night. That monstrosity that wanted her dead and wasn’t gonna stop at anything to make that happen.

But it didn’t happen She tells herself, I’m here, aren’t I?

She’s happy to have gotten out of there with her life as well as all her friends, but the feeling of the constant presence of that night’s memories weighing on her mind, and thanks to the marks on her skin as well, she has a hard time accepting that she was indeed lucky. Some fucking luck. If she were lucky she wouldn’t have even ended up in that predicament. But she did and it has taken a bite out of her sanity and will haunt her for good, physically and mentally. No doubt about it.

The first place they all went to after their return was a hospital. Scrapes and bruises and some open wounds along with Andrew’s concussion were the main of the physical injuries. No broken bones or anything permanent, thank God. 

Well, almost nothing permanent. 

Taylor had seen the looks the nurses and the doctor gave her when they saw the state of her skin - much like the others she had bruises and scratches here and there, the most serious of which still had dried blood on them. However, unlike the rest of the group, she’d be left with the burn marks for as long as the memories - forever. Of course, that’s not what the doctor told her, not directly, at least. He said to give them time and some treatment that wasn’t completely sure to work. She knew what that meant - “Be ready to spend the rest of your life like this or in covering it up.”

It’s been one month since that horrible night. One month of treatment for her skin. Lotions, creams, cleansers, foundation. Nothing has worked. She spends an hour going through the process of covering the marks up and an hour taking all that foundation off. No one has commented on them which may be either because she covers them well enough or they simply don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. She doesn’t care what others think of them, people’s opinions never bother her on any ground. The war she has with these burn marks is personal and has all to do with an event she wants to let go of and move on from. As if her nightmares aren’t enough, she also has to deal with flashbacks every time she looks in the mirror.

She hasn’t expressed her frustration to anyone. She has managed to hide it as well as the bruises themselves. It’s Taylor after all, she’s good at putting on an act so no one can read her. But, because it is indeed her, she’s not used to keeping her anger in. She feels like a ticking timed bomb. A bubble with tender, delicate walls that could burst at any moment. And God help the person who she bursts in front of. She’s never held her composure this long, she doesn’t know what will even happen if she lets go.

Now, looking in the mirror, about to take off her foundation and apply the new lotion the doctor prescribed her, she feels as fragile as ever. She’s feeling the lack of sleep more than ever as well as the pain of her tensed muscles that never seem to relax anymore. She doesn’t feel mentally prepared to go through the process of taking off the cover-up. She never feels ready, it always takes a toll on her on mentally, emotionally and even physically. She always feels so tired afterwards, so drained. Maybe because she always expects to see a difference when the foundation comes off. There never is, nothing but disappointment.

Today has been extra hard for her. Her mind has never been hazier from the lack of sleep. Her thoughts are all over the place, none of them clear. Her body’s almost shutting down. She feels like a ghost of herself. Like the real her is in a different location. Probably still stuck in Little Hope.

The foundation’s off, the same sight meets her, mocking her from the mirror. And that’s the snapping point she’s been dreading for a month now. She reaches for the new lotion she picked up on her way home.

“Useless piece of shit!“ she chucks it to the other end of the bathroom. The bottle is unharmed, it just hits the tiled floor with a loud thud. She however is in pieces, also dropping on the ground, her back against the wall, her knees tucked close to her chest, hiding her face between them, sobbing her heart out. It’s certainly a freeing feeling, but it only exhausts her more.

“Hey T...Taylor, what’s wrong?“ She hears the familiar voice and goes silent but does not dare lift her head, especially not now that her cover-up is off her, the burn marks on display. She remains sitting on the ground, face hidden from his sight.

Daniel feels her heart sink at the sight of the most important person in his life being at a low point like this one. He feels guilty for not taking action sooner. He saw the signs, the red flags in the form of fake empty smile, lack of sarcasm, colorless cheeks, eyebags, red eyes. Lack of Taylor, she was nowhere to be seen. She was far from the person he’s used to knowing and seeing every day. Knowing her, he expected prying to be a bad move but now he wishes he’d done it sooner. On time. Before she could crash like this.

“Do you know how to knock?” Her weak attempt at putting her tough act back on slips through the cracks in her voice.

Daniel is by her side asap, kneeling on the ground in front of her. “T, come on, don’t do this. Look at me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She knows better than to hide from Daniel. He know her too well. She trusts him too much. So, despite her previous determination not to let him in on the fact that she’s now a product of that night, she raises her head, resting her chin on her knee, still avoiding his gaze though. He doesn’t bat an eye though. 

Can he really not see what’s bothering me? It’s very fucking obvious

“I- I just feel like I can’t do this, you know. I can’t be fine like the rest of you. You’ve all moved on. And here I am with nightmares like a preschooler and these ugly things all over my skin. That night will permanently hold onto me, Daniel. I can never let it go if I’m reminded of it every time I look in the mirror.“ Her gaze travels to the lotion bottle on the an arm’s reach away. “I can empty as many of these bottles as I feel like, they never help. The doctor says they maybe would, big emphasis on the ‘maybe’ but, spoiler alert: they never do. I wish they’d stop stringing me along, every failed attempt is a hard-to-swallow disappointment.“ She chuckles humorlessly when Daniel takes the bottle from her, “And then there’s always the casually mentioned risk of it making them worse rather than better. You know, casually. Like, yeah this will either help you or fuck you up even worse.“ She ends the rant with a sigh, almost feeling like herself again.

Daniel sees it too, the fire in her eyes is fighting to light again. She’s so angry and yet she can’t express it to anyone. Anyone by him apparently. 

“So, you’re not gonna give it a shot?“ She shakes her head, “But what if it helps?“

“What if it makes it worse?“ She automatically replies, hugging her knees closer

“Let it be your last go. If it doesn’t do anything, or God forbid makes things worse, it’s on me. I owe you whatever you want. I know that’s nothing in comparison to what you’ll be dealing with, but...“ Sensing a speech is on its way, Taylor holds her hand up, shaking her head.

“Alright, spare me Mr. I-Don’t-Take-Medicine-Unless-I’m-On-My-Death-Bed. Give me the lotion.“

He shakes his head, stands up and takes hold of the hand she has outstretched instead. “Nah-ah, let me help.” The skeptical and downright humoring look she gives him when she stands to her feet almost makes him frown. “What? I’m not clueless, T. I know a think or two about skin care. You think this all came naturally?” He motions at himself cockily, stealing a genuine laugh from her.

“I knew nature couldn’t fuck up that badly. I suspected you had something to do with it.“ She narrows her eyes, meeting his also narrow-eyed gaze, both in on the fact that the other is messing around.

“Your skin is at my mercy. I wouldn’t talk smack if I were you.“ He playfully warns her, waving the lotion bottle in front of her.

She rolls her eyes, “Yeah whatever you say, tough guy.“ She opens a drawer under the sink and throws him a box of cotton pads.

Not wasting any time in fear she might change her mind, Daniel takes one pad out and puts a few drops of the lotion on it. He hesitantly brings it closer to the skin on the side of her neck while she stands as still as a statue, not breathing either. Despite all the bold talk, he’s still nervous. He really hopes this miracle liquid of chemicals works, solely because it will make Taylor happy. And to him, her happiness is all that matters.

She shudders when the cold, damp cotton pad makes contact with her skin and he immediately feels the need to apologize. Instead, however, he goes on to tell her exactly what’s on his mind, cause he knows there’ll never be a better time.

“What you call a reminder of that night, the horrors we endured, I see it differently...“ he trails off, looking at her reflection in the mirror out of the corner of his eye. “I see it as proof that we’re stronger than we know. And you, T...are the strongest of us all. Any of these scars could have been a lethal would but here you are, alive. And no, I’m not trying to say you’re lucky. None of us are. Lord knows what kind of fucked up luck we posses, but it ain’t right. No, you are brave. You went through it and fought to leave the battle with scars instead of dropping to the ground with a wound that is irredeemable. You’re a warrior, Taylor.” He pauses for a second and so do the movements of his hand. He hesitantly inhales before saying the last sentence he’s been holding back, “My warrior.” 

Taylor tilts her head to look at him, genuine surprise and warmth in her eyes. She’s baffled. Pleasantly caught off-guard by words she never thought she’d hear, let alone trust. She covers all this up with a smirk. Classic Taylor. “You weren’t really a pansy back there either, Dan.” She gently bumps his shoulder with hers.

His eyes narrow again. “I hate that nickn-“ It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t get to finish his sentence cause her lips are already on his, preventing him from ranting about...whatever he was about to go off about.

You know what they say: If you don’t finish saying it, it was never meant to be said in the first place. 

@artlovingbre  @megandaisy9  @sparrow-gg​