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snippychicke · 8 months ago

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Poppy Seeds --Part Two

Inspired by TooManyPsuedonyms work, which in turn was inspired by @semisolidmind fanart/cabin!Au for Playtime Poppy.

Dogday/Player!reader (attempting keeping it gender neutral)

Warnings: will touch on the after effects of trauma, but nothing is super explicit. Maybe some unhealthy coping skills (Dogday holding Reader on a pedestal) But otherwise we're giving everyone a happy ending. (Everything is wonderful and nothing hurts)

@twistedcece wanted tagged, anyone else?

Four: Water

It did end up raining later that afternoon. You had found Ollie a fresh change of clothes and had been showing the four around the farm. Thankfully, the day was warm enough that the cold droplets weren’t going to chill anyone too much, though Ollie squeaked as soon as the first droplet hit him.

It was just a light spring shower, but it was still tricky to convince Ollie to come out from the chicken coop he had taken shelter in. It wasn’t until you decided to join the others that he slowly peeked out, sunken eyes wide.

Kissy was twirling in the middle of the drive, her arms spread wide and her smile bright as ever. Poppy had her own arms outstretched, her face tilted up against the tickling drops and a smile on her eternally-painted lips. Dogday was brightly laughing as he pulled you out from the sheltered area to where several puddles were quickly forming.

Seeing you and Dogday stomping in the water looked far too fun for the boy to ignore, and soon he was brave enough to leave his place of safety (to the relief of the hens not used to the small child in their home). IT took him a moment to get used to the constant patter on his skin, but both you and Dogday were becoming him closer with open hands.

Laughter soon echoed in the air as the three of you would stomp from puddle to puddle. Kissy and Poppy didn’t join in --both not fond of getting muddy-- but enjoyed watching the three of you, two acting like overgrown kids and one finally able to act his age.

Things seemed perfect.

---

Later, Kissy and Poppy had corralled Ollie into the upstairs bathroom for a ‘proper’ bath. Judging from the splashing and outraged squeals from Poppy, the boy was still enjoying the new lease on childhood… or maybe Kissy had decided to join in the impishness. You weren’t sure, and was more focused on Dogday anyways.

Your bedroom had its own bathroom, complete with an old large clawfoot tub that Dogday was able to sit in, though it was a tight fit. So you had taken it upon yourself to grab a basin and a few washcloths to scrub his back that was still coated in sticky things you rather not think about while he handled the rest.

“I wish I could have done better on these stitches,” you offered as you gently cleaned around the sloppy uneven stitches where you had sewn his bottom half back on. The thread you had been able to find was a bright neon green and easy to see against his tan hair, and the ‘hide’ of his top half flapped over a bit of his bottom half since you had no idea how else to stitch the pieces together. Sewing has never been your forte.

You swore magic had to be involved, considering that a simple sewing together and undoing the tourniquet had somehow ‘healed’ the connection and he could feel and control his lower body once more.

“They’re fine,” Dogday reassured, currently scrubbing a stubborn stain on his arm. “The fact you were able to fix me in the first place is a miracle in itself, angel.”

“I know,” you whined, unable to stop glaring at the poor stitchwork. “But it’s green. And all wonky…”

He paused to look down at the stitching, a fond expression on his face (though you couldn’t see it.) “I like it that way. It’s a visual reminder of how much you cared.”

Your heart thumped at his words, and you bit your lip. It had been an act of desperation… but he wasn’t wrong. You had cared-- you had been terrified that you would do something to hurt him. To cause him to die no matter what you did. You wanted to save him-- to be able to save someone.

The memory threatened to overwhelm you, and you dropped your washcloth so you could wrap your arm around his shoulders, uncaring that you were getting your clothes wet by hugging him.

You had been so close to losing him. Close to losing your own life. Failing everyone yet again after you had failed years prior.

“Angel?” Dogday managed to shift, and before you knew it, you were in his arms, cradled against his body as you cried. “What is it?”

“I-I-” you stuttered, clenching your eyes as if you could push those memories out of your mind. Not just of him, but of everything. It was like a crack had formed and everything you had stubbornly ignored came rushing in.

“Oh Angel,” he sighed as if he understood, pulling you closer. “Sweetheart. It's okay.”

“How can you call me that?” You choked out. “I-I left all of you, ten years ago. I saw what they were doing and I ran away.”

“You were little more than a child yourself,” was not the answer you were expecting. As if he remembered just like Mommy Longlegs had. “Probably a bright-eyed intern or something, am I right?”

You weakly nodded your head. You had been so excited when your application had been accepted. Everyone was hushed about the project, but they were looking for brilliant minds to help lead the future. You had been chosen out of hundreds of others. You had signed so many non-disclosure and other legal papers you thought it was weird for a toy factory but dismissed it as corporate paranoia.

You didn't realize why until you stumbled upon that first file. Realized the toys looking after the kids weren't advanced animatronics. You hadn't discovered the whole story, but enough to send you running for the hills.

Literally.

You quit everything, and ran away into the woods hoping they would never find you.

“Besides, you came back. And now we're here. Safe.” His thumb wiped at your tears. “Cuddling in a bathtub.”

The last but made you laugh despite yourself and helped bring you back into the moment. You had to admit, it probably looked odd; giant Dogday squished in the tub with you--a full grown adult--more or less cradled in his arms. Both of you now thoroughly wet.

Your laugh made his smile widen faintly. “There we go. I know we'll all have hard days, but as long as we're here for each other, I think we'll get through it.”

Five: Wait

“I won’t be gone long, I promise,” you had said as you climbed into your truck. Without him. Dogday had all but whined at you, unashamed at the puppy-eye expression he gave you. “Day,” you had sighed, leaning out the window to cup his cheek as he leaned down. “I’m sorry, but the back is going to be full when I come back. And besides, who’s going to look after them?”

He should have pointed out that Kissy and Poppy were well able to deal with anything, the two girls were much more capable than they appeared. However, he had quietly conceded and stood back, allowing you to disappear down the steep drive.

That had been early this morning. Nearly five hours ago.

Dogday had barely moved from his spot, waiting to see the sunlight glint off your truck as it climbed the driveway. Or to hear its engine grumble as it approached. What if something happened to you? His sweet angel? He may have been trapped in the factory all those years, but he still knew the outside world could be just as dangerous. Especially to someone sweet and kind as you.

“You’re really whipped, aren’t you?” Poppy spoke as Kissy approached, carrying the smaller doll on her shoulder. “When I said they’d be our angel to come save us, I didn’t think you would take it this far.”

“They saved me,” he answered, his eyes still focused on this distance. He meant more than just his life, when he was strung up like a piece of meat for the miniatures to come feast upon. When he had been so blinded by rage and the need for revenge…

He could still see your eyes through the thick glass of the gasmask, begging him to stop. Your voice as you asked him to spare Catnap’s life because there had been enough death.

“If that doesn’t deserve loyalty, I don’t know what else would.”

“Loyalty. Right.” Poppy sighed, shaking her head. “You sure you’re not suffering from a bad case of puppy-love?”

Dogday paused, his thoughts screeching to a halt at her words. Kissy Missy giggled behind her yellow hand as he struggled with the idea. Puppy love? Certainly not. What he felt wasn’t all warm, fuzzy, yet superficial.

It was deep and all encompassing to the point it almost overwhelmed him sometimes when he looked at you. Whether covered in blood and dust with a look of grisly determination, or freshly showered and wet hair clinging to your face while you laughed, you were his angel. He’d do anything for you.

“Not puppy love… but I do love them.”

Just as the admission left his voice box, he heard the grumble of an engine, and looked down the road to see your old truck making its way up the zig-zagging path, the bed filled with things as you had predicted. His tail slowly started to wag behind him, belying his excitement and joy.

He loved you so much, and he didn’t care if you never felt the same. As long as you let him stay by your side day after day, he’d be happy.

Even if he had to wait sometimes.

Six: Memories

Ollie may have been naive to things you presumed as common knowledge, but when it came to technology, he was a veritable genius. Considering he had to use the old machines to often run and hide from the others in the factory, it wasn’t that much of a surprise.

The scrawny boy was able to help you hook up the various equipment you had brought home with you amongst the tons of groceries. A scanner, an old VHS reader, and an internet router with enough power to accomplish what you wanted.

You hadn’t left the factory empty handed, after all. Dozens of VHS tapes, hundreds of files and loose papers. You had collected every bit of proof you could. And you were going to finish Rowan's work.

“Are you sure about this?” Ollie asked as you popped the first VHS tape to convert into a digital file. “You’re going to be in big trouble if they find out…”

“I should have done this a long time ago,” you said with determination. “Besides, I promised everyone else. They’ve waited long enough.”

Poppy and the others were silent. This had been part of Poppy’s plan all along, after all. Bring the crimes of Playtime Co to light and assure nothing like this happens again.

Yet your hands shook as you scoured for the email address for every news company and journalist you could find. You remembered what Playtime did to Rowan, and while their factory had been decommissioned a decade ago, it was hardly the only one. They were still one of the largest companies on the scene.

Who’s to say that similar things weren’t happening there? More than one had an orphanage on site, after all.

This would certainly be their downfall, and they were bound to come after you if given half the chance. This little piece of heaven that you had these last few days would be stolen away from you…

Dogday leaned on you from behind, lanky arms wrapped around your shoulders while his chin rested on your head. The heavy weight was comfortable, as was the soft scent of vanilla that you had worked back into his fur after his bath the other day.

“Nothing is going to happen to Angel,” he growled softly. “Or any of us. We’ll protect our new home.”

“Our family,” Poppy added quietly, and got a determined nod from Kissy and a cheer from Ollie. You relaxed into Dogday’s embrace, wrapping your fingers around his arms.

--*--

Dogday and Catnap circled each other, growls and snarls echoing in the small chamber. Red Mist filled the air, yet somehow Dogday was still awake. Aware of what was reality and what was a waking nightmare.

Catnap had not expected to see his old friend again after ripping him in half and sacrificing him to the miniatures. All these years and he thought Dogday was with him--with the Prototype-- and only to learn he sided with her. Poppy. And you. The one Dogday called angel.

Dogday finally made the first move, swinging a broken pipe he had been carrying. Normally Catnap could avoid it, but his feet stumbled over the debris hidden in the thick red mist.

“Stop it!” You screamed, voice muffled by your gasmask as you suddenly appeared out of the mist. Dogday nearly slammed the pipe into you, but stopped a hairbreadth away. Catnap was just as stunned as his counterpart as you stood protectively between the two large beings.

“There’s been enough death,” you continued as Dogday lowered his weapon. “I know he hurt you. I know he’s done a lot wrong, but…”

“He doesn’t deserve your mercy, angel,” Dogday growled softly. “None of us do, but especially not him.”

You shook your heads, arms still stretched wide. “Maybe, but I’m tired of all this death. Everyone’s been wronged here. The horrors that you all went through, even before the Hour of Joy. It has to end, and I want it to end now.”

You protected him. Stood up against the Prototype when He came down and tried to end Catnap’s life and steal his body to integrate with His. Catnap vividly remembered the determined expression on your face as you faced off against his fake-god.

You… were merciful. Kind. Real. While the Prototype had stayed to himself, distant from everyone else, you walked with them. You had taken those four away from the factory, swearing to those left behind that help would soon come.

You would save them.

Catnap had to waitfor little less than a week before seeing your promise come to fruition. Not years, or another decade of pain and suffering. Less than a week and all sorts of people were swarming the factory.

You had made everything public knowledge, so the company or anyone else couldn’t just sweep them under a rug and dispose of them. He watched as humans cared for the little ones, offering the food and water that they had been deprived of for so long. PJ Pug-a-pillar, Huggy Wuggy, and others he didn’t know were still alive were pulled from the hands of death and into life. Freedom.

He could have stepped into the light and joined them. He knew the miniatures would be happy about that…yet watching one of miniature counterparts huddle close with its brethren, all of them with juice boxes and blankets, reminded him harshly of what he had done. He had done so much in the name of that false-god…

He had to find The Savior and do what he could to be redeemed.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday poppy playtime #dogday x reader #dogday/reader #dogday x player #dogday/player #poppy #kissy missy #ollie

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aegon-targaryen · 1 year ago

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Zelink Week Day 3 - Letters

read on AO3 | read on FF.net | @zelinkcommunity

Zelda sat at her desk, her only companions the crackling fire and the scratch of her quill against parchment. Shadows stretched long across the room. When a guard appeared in the doorway, he seemed afraid to breach the quiet.

“Forgive me for troubling you, Lady Queen,” he said, twisting his cap in his hands. “It’s likely nothing.”

She raised her eyebrows expectantly. Someone had once taught her the value of silence.

“We arrested a man at the gates. Seemed like some addled beggar at first—he kept asking to see Princess Zelda, as if you haven’t been queen for years. It seemed like he’d go quietly when we turned him away, but then he pulled a sword out of nowhere and knocked Brynn off his feet.” The guard barked a laugh, then smothered it at her look. “Brynn wasn’t hurt, mind you. And then this fellow dropped his sword and surrendered.”

“This winter has been cruel,” Zelda pointed out. “Perhaps he’s desperate enough to trade his freedom for a warm cell and three meals a day.”

“Perhaps, Lady Queen. Anyway—we weren’t sure if you’d want us to charge him. He’s probably mad as a full moon, but…does the name Link mean anything to you?”

Zelda went hot, then cold, then hot again. Her treacherous heart, persisting in the naivete that had cost her dearly in the past, pounded like a war drum. She wished powerfully that Impa was here to tell her she was being a fool.

Alone, Zelda couldn’t stop herself from striding past the open-mouthed guard and through the door.

The sight of her was a spear through the chest, one Link wouldn’t remove for all the world.

Her hair spilled down her black dress, glowing like spun gold in the sunlight that drifted through the cell’s high window. She had grown much taller than that girl he’d left behind in the summer garden so long ago. Link’s memory had glazed over details like her angular chin, the arch of her brows, her small, delicate nose—but he would recognize those wide blue eyes until he breathed his last. Maybe even after that, if the Goddesses were kind.

They weren’t kind, though. And the Zelda he’d fought beside was long out of reach. This Zelda had been allowed a childhood, and Link was a very small part of it: just a boy without a fairy who warned her father against Ganondorf and spent the following years coming and going from the castle, until he ultimately found himself unable to return.

Now he was finally home, and he’d always told himself that would be enough. Seeing her again would be enough, even if she had forgotten him.

The door swung open with a gust of magic that smelled like spring. Zelda stepped inside the cell, her hand glowing at her side, and said, “Link.”

His knees went weak. His back hit the cold stone wall, and he stayed there, pressing a hand to his mouth, because surely moving or speaking would shatter this dream apart.

“Your eye,” she murmured, reaching towards the bandage.

Link flinched on sheer instinct. She jerked her hand away though burned, taking a slow, shocked step backwards, until he burst out, “Zelda.”

She crashed into him, sending them both tumbling to the floor. She was warm and alive and real in his arms, holding him so hard it hurt—the sweetest pain he’d ever felt. He could have died there, quite happily; better that than waking up on foreign soil to realize this was one more cosmic joke.

Link had no notion of how much time passed before Zelda pulled back and said in a hushed whisper, “I dreamed of you.”

“I dreamed of you too,” he murmured. “And…of him.”

Her expression hardened in a way that surprised him, making her look more like Sheik than the gangly fourteen-year-old he’d left behind. “He’s dead,” she replied neutrally.

The other Zelda had stood over her Ganondorf’s crumpled body and called him pitiful. Link had wept when he’d dealt the killing blow. But that day felt so far away, and now all he could muster was relief that it wouldn’t happen again.

“We intended to keep him alive, mostly to maintain peace with the Gerudo,” Zelda continued. “He wasn’t the man you fought, not without the Triforce of Power, and after years in prison…I didn’t see it coming. But he was strong enough to escape one night and assassinate my father.”

“No,” Link gasped, a hot knife of pain sliding through him. I should have been here. This was exactly what he’d wanted to save her from. “I’m so sorry, Zelda.”

She shrugged—shrugged, as if it was nothing—and said, “We subdued him and sent him to the old desert prison to be executed. It was years ago.”

Years? That meant she and the other castle folk were dressed in mourning black for a more recent tragedy. Link had a hundred questions and a thousand apologies; he didn’t know where to start.

“Does your eye need medical attention?” Zelda wondered.

He shook his head. The remains of his eye were hideous, but mostly healed. Though he’d done his best to adjust to a world half in shadow, he certainly couldn’t fight like he once had—for that reason, as well as many others.

That was all well and good until Zelda levelled him with a stubborn stare, and Link—still unconvinced that this was real life—knew he would deny her nothing. “Okay,” he relented.

She smiled tentatively. Much about her had changed: the tall elegance, the air of authority, and something else he couldn’t identify, something not entirely attached to the simple passage of time. But that smile and the way it crinkled up her eyes still matched the memories that had sustained him for so long.

Zelda pulled him to his feet, dusting off her dark skirts. “Why did you get yourself arrested?” she asked with a meaningful glance at the guards on duty, who tried to pretend like they hadn’t been gawking at the scene. “If you had left your name at the gate, I would have seen you right away.”

Link followed her up the stairs, concentrating on placing one foot after the other until he could answer calmly, “I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she demanded, halting in her tracks to look back at him with an unfathomable expression.

“I just—I don’t know how long it’s been.”

Zelda resumed the climb as abruptly as she’d stopped, not facing him again until she pushed open the courtyard door. There, in the full sunlight of late afternoon, they studied each other. The realization that he couldn’t read her anymore came with a sudden, breathtaking swell of loss. Could she read him? Did he want her to?

“It’s been over six years,” she said finally.

Link shuddered, trying to make sense of how the time had played out. It was winter now, which made them both twenty—older than he’d been even after waking in the Temple of Time to a kingdom ravaged by Ganondorf.

“You didn’t know my father was dead,” Zelda observed. “You’ve heard no news from Hyrule, all this time?”

He shook his head.

“I see,” came her cryptic response as she turned away to convey a series of requests to a befuddled attendant. Then she led him through the winding castle corridors to her chambers—not the small plush bedroom Link remembered, but the monarch’s full suite, bigger than most peasants’ entire homes.

He had not seen luxury in a long time, and he felt filthy and incongruous in this lacquered study with its fine silk curtains. At the same time, everything screamed so loudly of Zelda—the papers strewn across the desk, the bow hanging on the wall, the flowers in the windowsill—that Link would have recognized her touch anywhere, even if she hadn’t been watching him wordlessly a few feet away.

A grandfather clock ticked in the corner. He swallowed at the sound.

Before either of them found anything to say, a guard delivered Link’s confiscated belongings, and the healer arrived seconds later. To his immense relief, Zelda stepped into her bedroom while the healer poked and prodded at his eye, leaving him with a tin of cream and a dark patch he stared at for a long time before tying another bandage around his head instead.

Zelda returned when dinner arrived, and finally they were alone, sitting on the floor around the low fireside table, as they had when they were children. Link struggled to stay polite in the company of juicy roast Cuccoo and lavish potatoes and those hearty marketplace rolls dotted with rich seeds, but it all tasted so much like home that he found himself wolfing it down. He was halfway done when he noticed Zelda picking listlessly at her own food.

The clock counted down and down, reminding Link that he was the one who had left, the one who owed her answers. Taking a deep breath, he said, “You’re angry with me.”

“I know you,” she replied woodenly. “And I know you were away because you had to be. So I have no reason to be angry.”

“But you are, and I don’t blame you.”

Zelda pulled her knees up to her chest, leaning against the leg of an armchair. Her black dress slid up to reveal her bare feet, making her look far younger than the queen who had ordered her attendants around with such confidence.

“Did you find Navi?” she asked.

“No.”

Her face fell even further. “I understood why you left. There was a grief in you that I was too young to grasp. It was why you had nightmares. Especially the last time you were here.”

The last time had been after Termina. Link tried to keep his gaze off the ticking grandfather clock. He had never told her of those three days with all their cyclic horrors, of how close he had gotten to letting the moon fall just so he could sleep—between that and the Lost Woods, he’d barely gotten home.

I should have learned my lesson, Link thought with fierce bitterness. I should have stayed. All he knew, after years of searching, was that Navi had gone where he couldn’t follow. Zelda was right here, and she’d needed him while he’d been stumbling from one land to the next, lost in every way possible.

“I understood,” she repeated. “But—six years, Link, and not one letter?”

The wariness in her voice broke his heart. Once, she had trusted his every move. Once, as a disguised Sheikah and a boy hero, they had operated like two halves of the same being. But that Zelda had sent Link away, so he’d abandoned this one before she could do the same.

“I wrote you letters all the time,” he said slowly. “I just had no way to send them. I was…in places where no one had even heard of Hyrule.”

“That far?” She tilted her head in confusion—then her eyes widened. “The Lost Woods sent you away?”

The grandfather clock chimed, and even though it sounded nothing like the one in Termina, it struck Link louder than thunder. He resisted the urge to cover his ears, but maybe Zelda could read him after all, because something made her rise and freeze the clock into stillness with one wave of her glowing hand. Then she knelt before Link, her skirts pooling around her like spilled ink, and waited.

“I wanted to come home,” he told her in the silence that followed. “The whole time, I was trying to come home. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that it took so long.”

“I believe you,” Zelda said. “And if it wasn’t by choice, then of course I forgive you, too.”

Link wasn’t sure he deserved that, but relief swamped him all the same. Her hands were curled in her lap, pale against the black silk, and he covered them with one of his own. “Thank you,” he breathed.

Zelda hesitated before taking the scarred ruin of his hand between her palms: the smallest movement in the world, yet it triggered a titanic shift inside Link. A—settling, of sorts. A realization that he wanted to stay.

A knock on the door made her frown. Releasing his hand, she went to open it, asking the newcomer a quiet question.

“Quiet as a lamb, Lady Queen, as always,” chuckled an old woman in reply.

Zelda thanked her, closed the door, and turned back to Link with a baby in her arms.

The room fell silent again. Twisting confusion froze him on the spot. She was just as motionless, watching him over the baby’s head of golden curls. Link had a feeling he knew why the court was dressed in mourning colors, and it took him a long moment to swallow down the cruelty of this world he kept saving, the world that had robbed them of each other.

“What’s her name?” Link asked quietly.

“You know it well.”

“Zelda,” he murmured, for no reason but to say it aloud.

“Yes. I needed allies to secure the throne after my father died. Marriage was the obvious choice. He was a good enough man, but his heart wasn’t healthy—it failed him last month.”

“I’m sorry.” Link could think of nothing else to say. He’d wanted so badly for her to have choices, this time around, but already they’d dwindled away.

She only shrugged. “We were only married a year. We had her, and we loved her together.” Shifting the baby in her arms, she added, “But I couldn’t have loved him, Link.”

“Zelda—”

“I couldn’t have.” Her eyes blazed with a surprising ferocity. “What about you?”

“There was someone,” he admitted. “She helped me. And I helped her. And…”

And that was all. She’d been brave enough to remind Link of his own courage; he would always be grateful for that. But neither of them had harbored any illusions for the future. He had lain awake beside her, thinking of Zelda’s eyes and Zelda’s voice and Zelda’s arms around him, thinking: It should have been her.

“And I couldn’t have loved her either,” he finished. There was a weight to the words, a rightness, that brought Zelda back to settle down at his side. Wordlessly, she lowered her daughter into his waiting arms.

The baby burbled sleepily. She was her namesake’s spitting image. Golden hair. Tiny little nose. Blue eyes; Link would recognize them anywhere. That was when he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt: “I’m never leaving Hyrule again.”

Zelda’s laugh wasn’t the girlish giggle he remembered from that day they’d met in the garden, but something softer, more cautious, more precious.

And he meant that promise. There were other people who had offered him sanctuary throughout his long, bloody life—the woman he’d just spoken of, Navi, Tatl, so many others who had kept the light burning when it threatened to gutter out. But with every meeting came a parting, and too many of Link’s partings had been permanent.

But not this one. Not ever. Some roots went deeper than any force could unearth, and some flowers bloomed despite the bitter cold. It wasn’t too late: not for Link, and not for Zelda. He could feel that in the way she watched him hold her daughter, a quiet smile gracing her lips.

“Will you tell me more about what I missed?” he asked.

“Yes,” she promised. “And I’d like to hear about your travels, in return.”

Link nodded, and there, with their shoulders pressed together and the baby sleeping between them, they began to trade stories.

#zelink week 2023 #zelinkcommunity #loz #oot #mm #oot zelink #zelink fanfiction #zelink #loz fanfiction #my writing

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softguarnere · 1 year ago

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Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 26: Out Of The Woods

Summary: Then, amidst all the confusion and chaos, he appears. A/N: Yes like the Taylor Swift song haha Warnings: death, grief, guns, war, language Taglist: @latibvles @liebgotts-lovergirl @hxad-ovxr-hxart @ithinkabouttzu @lady-cheeky @lieutenant-speirs

Belgium, 1945

Bill always made being a Staff Sergeant look so effortless. He was just the right type of person for the job. Caring about his men and knowing how to cheer them up when he made the rounds was as easy for him as breathing. Despite Zenie’s awkward shoe size, her friend left some big shoes – er, jump boots – to fill. Especially with Compton being taken off the line. That did nothing for the men’s morale. Neither did the horrific deaths of Muck and Penkala . . .

“You’re awful quiet today,” Shifty notes.

To be fair, he’s been quiet, too. It’s early in the morning. Later, they’re supposed to take the town. Foy has been staring up at them for the longest time now, mocking them, so close, yet so far out of their grasp and firmly in that of the Germans. And Dike, of all people, will be leading them into the fray. They’re both well within their rights to be quiet, to worry for the immediate future.

But it’s not that simple. Zenie hasn’t been able to get much shuteye. The shelling a few days before that took Skip and Penkala had started while she was sleeping. Now she can’t close her eyes without feeling like she’s going to be jolted awake to the sight of burning trees and the sound of screams and explosions. Shifty hasn’t admitted anything, but he’s been muttering in his sleep more than before they came to Bastogne. So now they both sit, staring up at the dark winter sky, waiting.

“I don’t like this place,” Shifty whispers.

“I would think you were crazy if you did.”

In the darkness, it’s hard to see Shifty’s expression. If Zenie squints, it looks like he’s biting his lip, deep in thought.

“Things’ll be better when we get out of here,” he says after he’s done analyzing his thoughts. “It’s so . . . strange here.”

“It’s a frozen hell,” Zenie blurts out.

Despite the darkness, Shifty manages to find her hand and gives it a squeeze. “You can feel them, almost. The dead.” He lets out a breath, a short gasp for air. “I had a dream. That boy from Brooklyn that I don’t get on with – the one who died a few days back? I thought that I killed him.” His voice is quiet on the last sentence, reluctant in a way that Zenie has never heard him before.

“You didn’t, though.”

“No. But I thought I did. I really thought I did . . .”

The thought of being able to feel the dead wandering around in this place sends a shiver down Zenie’s spine. Isn’t that what she had been thinking about the day that Bill and Joe got hit? If only it were a nice feeling in the “the people you loved will always be with you” way. With their luck, there are probably angry German spirits lurking everywhere.

Taking Foy could be a complete disaster. Yet for Shifty’s sake, Zenie takes the reigns of the conversation and tries to steer them to something lighter. “When we leave here, maybe they’ll send us somewhere warm.”

“The war wasn’t over by Christmas, you know, but maybe we could make it home for spring.” He nudges Zenie with his elbow. “Just in time to see all the spring flowers for your birthday.”

He must be able to feel the look that Zenie gives him – confused, delighted, and surprised all at once – because Shifty adds by way of explanation, “One time you said that your birthday was May the first.”

“You remembered?”

“Well, yeah. Zena reminds me of Zinnia, the flower. April showers bring May flowers, so your birthday is May the first. What?”

The breathy laugh that escapes Zenie’s lips is not aimed at Shifty. It’s almost a sigh of relief, or of surprise over the fact that someone took the time to make sure that they remembered. Her lips instantly connect with his cheek, though she’s smiling so wide it might not technically count as a kiss.

“You remembered,” she says again.

“Of course I did.”

“March the thirteenth,” Zenie says, proud that she also remembers Shifty’s birthday. She didn’t have a fun way to remember it – the date just stuck with her because it belonged to him.

For a while they sit in warm silence. Overhead, the first rays of sun lighten the horizon to a wintery grey. Nothing like the liquid sunlight that stains the world golden as it leaks over the mountains and through the trees back at home. This is a dull aesthetic for a day that has the potential to live up to it if things don’t go well.

“When we do get out of here, after the war, I mean, what do you want to do?” Shifty asks.

There it is: the question that so often rises to the surface of Zenie’s mind, only for her to push it back down when the cold, hard realization hits her. Almost all of these men will leave the army and go home, go back to their lives. Their families will welcome them with open arms and they will go about their lives as best they can. But Zenie . . . She will go home to what? Her mother said that she would stand up for her. Does she also expect Zenie to have a less than welcoming return?

“Shifty,” Zenie says, the words of hard truth slow to form in her mouth. “I don’t – I don’t think that I can ever go home.”

A pause. “Oh. Because . . . ?”

Zenie nods, only to realize that it’s too dark for him to see the slight motion. “Yes.” Somehow the one word loosens all the fears that have been slowly building up inside of her for all these years. “If I go home, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave. My mom said that she would protect me if I came back, but I – If I go back . . . Shifty, I feel like something horrible will happen and I’ll never get out again. Running away was a one-way ticket.”

Her last sentence fills her heart with dread. The morning that she took off, she had reassured herself that she would be back one day. Now she sees that that might have been wishful thinking. Wishful thinking from a teenager with a half-baked plan.

“Somethin’ horrible. You mean with your father?”

“Yes,” she admits. The word ushers in another terrible thought – the realization that Zenie is afraid of her father and whatever he might be capable of. “I don’t think he would let me leave.”

Back and forth, back and forth, Shifty rubs his thumb over Zenie’s knuckles as he thinks. He shifts his weight so that he’s leaning even closer to her in their shared foxhole, so close that there’s no chance of being overheard when he asks, “What if there was a way to make sure that you wouldn’t have to stay there?”

Is there a way? Besides running away again, that is. Surely Zenie would have found it by now. Any of the McGlamery siblings would have taken their first chance to get out if it were that simple. They’ve all made drastic decisions, though, with Matthew’s joining the Air Corps, Marilyn’s marriage, and Zenie’s disappearance.

“Zena,” Shifty whispers conspiratorially. There’s something of a smile in his voice when he asks, “What if we got married?”

Even sitting so close, it’s hard to see his features in the darkness. Zenie leans back, trying to gauge his expression. “What?”

“See, if we were married, then you would have an excuse not to stay there. When the war’s all done with, we can go visit your mama, see, and then leave. We’ll tell your family that you’re movin’ with me up to Clinchco. Hell, we can go anywhere you want! But you won’t have to stay there.”

“I didn’t tell you that for pity.”

Shifty’s thumb ceases its soothing motions over her knuckles. Without realizing it, he squeezes her hand, like he can transfer everything he means in the contact. “I didn’t mean it like that. Honest. I wouldn’t have said it unless I wanted to – “

The sentence break is so jarring, so un-Shifty-like that Zenie feels her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Shifty, for as long as she’s known him, has not been in the habit of saying things that he doesn’t mean. Zenie doesn’t want to speak for fear of ruining what he’s just said. He doesn’t move to finish the thought. Still, Zenie waits. She learned her lesson about assumptions back in the brothel so many months ago.

When Shifty still doesn’t speak, she finds herself whispering, “You want to marry me?”

“Yes,” Shifty says without hesitation. “If you would let me.”

Of course she would let him. She’s been staring after him and daydreaming about him for years now. And, after their misunderstandings were cleared up, loving him as honestly as she knows how.

After Beckie hit it big in the city, Zenie had once considered how she might get out of their town as well. A handsome man whisking her off to some faraway place out of love had seemed like a childish, unrealistic fairy tale. Yet here is a handsome man who is perfectly willing to do just that. Can it really be that easy?

Yet again Zenie finds herself in a place where Granny would know exactly what to do. Granny, Zenie has often thought, would have loved Shifty. She can’t imagine her grandmother objecting to this. Not if it makes her happy.

Can I say yes? Zenie asks herself.

Suddenly, an understanding hits her. Granny would have wanted to see her happy – Mama said so herself. Thinking about Shifty, how much Granny would have liked him, Zenie knows. She can feel the answer, somewhere deep inside her. Permission seems to be granted from deep in her own heart – that place that everyone says Granny still exists in. If Granny really is so much a part of her, she would not object to this.

“Yes,” Zenie whispers. The smile that spreads across her face could not be contained with any amount of effort. “If you would have me.”

Shifty squeezes her hand again. “Vv. Gvgeyui.” I love you.

“Gvlvgwodi.” I adore you.

Though the sunlight breaking through on the horizon is dull and grey, it’s somehow the most beautiful sunrise that Zenie has ever seen.

Whether fortunately or otherwise, Zenie is right there when it happens.

Rifle at the ready, crouched low, she hustles across the field that waits ahead of her, keeping her eyes open for any imminent threats as she tries to move toward some form of cover. The rest of Second Platoon does the same, encouraged by Lipton’s shouts of “Keep it moving! Keep it moving!”

And then suddenly, they’re all frozen, right there in the open.

Whispers of “What the fuck?!” pass between the men as they stare at Dike ahead of them. Their lieutenant practically collapses behind a hay bale. Some of the NCOs swarm to him as he yells commands for everyone to fall back.

Bullets pepper the air all around her. Wildly, Zenie’s eyes dart around. Men file past her, falling back as ordered, while others propel themselves behind hay bales, squeezing together for cover. Someone grabs her arm and tugs her forward. Gene, dragging her toward the hay bale where so many men are crouched around Dike, almost all of them demanding a plan, an explanation, an order, something.

“I don’t know, I don’t know, I DON’T KNOW!” Dike yelps. Over and over again. He doesn’t know. Why are they surprised? His helmet has fallen off and his dark curls tousled the way that they are give him a sort of wild appearance that is not helped by the sheen of sweat that has overtaken him. The lieutenant keeps tugging at his collar, like it’s choking him, as he spits out an order for Foley to attack from the rear.

“How’s that supposed to work?” One of the replacements near Zenie mutters. As if to prove his point, an explosion sounds off by their hay bale, spitting dirt and snow up into the air as the mortar hits.

A few men take off, trying their luck running through the snow. Wherever they’re trying to go, some make it, and some don’t – they collapse onto the ground. Their vacated hiding spots provide a little more room for those who stay behind. Zenie presses in closer to the other men.

It’s as if something in Dike breaks. He stops screaming at them and leans back against the bale of hay, hand in a death grip on his collar. Eyes wide, he stares straight ahead, not speaking, hardly breathing, in his own little existence.

“Je-sus Christ!” A slight pause in the German fire and Zenie takes her chance. She sprints out from behind the hay bale and slides to a stop behind another one that sits a few feet away. The men who are already there are trying to work out when to make their run to a nearby building, hoping that it’s stone walls will afford them better cover.

Then, amidst all the confusion and chaos, he appears.

The lieutenant from Dog Company – Speirs, she remembers – who everyone has been so weary of since D-Day, grabs Dike by the collar. “I’m taking over.”

The next thing that any of them know, Lipton is ordering them all to their feet, yelling for Second Platoon to move out. He grabs men by the webbing and drags them from behind their cover if he has to. For the most part, everyone begins to push forward before he has to order them again.

Mortars split the ground behind them. Several men stagger as they try to regain their balance while the shock waves rattle them and chunks of earth fly up toward the sky like a geyser. But at least they’re on the move.

Out of the field now, they all find cover behind stone walls and the sides of houses, waiting for whatever comes next. Whatever it might be, it doesn’t seem nearly so impossible now that they have Speirs running the show.

“Holy shit!” Malarkey exclaims. When he moves back from where he was peering around the edge of the building that they’re waiting behind, his face has an expression that Zenie has never seen before. After the mask of quietness that has settled over him these past few days, it’s like catching a glimpse of the old Malarkey again, as behind the look of wonder on his face, a ghost of a smile appears in his eyes. “I think Speirs just ran through the German line!”

After everything that has already happened, it almost seems too good to be true. But as Zenie joins the other men in singing for the camera crews after Foy is firmly within their grasp, the story seems less and less fantastical. If Speirs could charge in and take command of their company, of course he could charge through the German line and make it back unscathed. Why not? One more story for the shroud of unbelievable rumors that trail behind him like a cape.

She no sooner reaches this conclusion when the Bang! Bang! Bang! sends all the men scattering. Zenie herself scrambles behind a building with a group of other men.

Lipton motions men forward, “Come on, come on!”

Except for the occasional gun shot, the world has fallen silent as they wait. At least this time they have cover.

“Second floor, building on the right,” Lipton whispers. He turns to the expert marksman beside him, his voice serious when he says, “Don’t miss, Shifty.” A pause. “Now!”

Like Speirs before him, Lipton takes off running, leaving the safety of the building behind as he darts between the buildings. Shifty readies his gun and leans around the corner.

Bang! The report sounds from the sniper’s hiding place. Pressed with her back against the stone wall behind her, crowded amongst so many men, Zenie can’t see where the bullet lands.

Bang! Shifty’s own gun is fired. A beat of silence follows, followed by a cheer from men with a better view. His bullet found the mark, then, just like it always does.

They shouldn’t be surprised, really, when they see the body. For all the distance between them, Shifty managed to put a bullet right between the German sniper’s eyes. Awe sweeps through the small crowd that gathers around the scene. They’ve all seen Shifty shoot before. Zenie herself learned just how good a shot he was the first day that she met him. But this is different. This was achieved in the heat of combat, not firing at targets down a range. This is real.

McClung lets out a low whistle and claps Shifty on the shoulder. “Well, I’ll be!”

“It just don’t pay to be shootin’ at Shifty when he’s got a rifle in his hands!” Popeye exclaims.

Shifty lowers his head, just like he always does when he gets a compliment. It doesn’t hide the slight pink that highlights his cheeks, or the smile that tugs at his lips. “Well now, I just shot as best I could.”

“Shifty, if we could all shoot like you, this war would have been over a lo-ong time ago,” Zenie says.

McClung raises a hand. “Amen!”

The story spreads quickly, finding its way in amongst all the other events of the day. Dike’s hesitance in combat, Speirs’ legendary run, and Shifty’s fateful shot dominate the day. The Virginian takes it in stride, humbly, as always. Hopefully the story attached to him will treat him better than the rumors following the other two men.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #shifty powers #shifty powers x ofc #shifty powers x original female character #my writing #oc zenie mcglamery #like a girl (like a man)#hbo war #hbo war fanfic

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pukanavis · 10 months ago

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Plum Blossoms and Snowflakes | Prologue 2

Arashi: Ritsu-chan, I know I’m late to mention it, but you’re not usually active in the tea club around this season, right?

This time last year, you were practically inseparable from the kotatsu.

Ritsu: Yeah, I know. I happened to check the weather forecast yesterday and it said to expect 'a warm, spring-like day' so I exercised my power as club leader to call a meeting.

Nothing beats drinking Haa~kun’s tea on a warm sunny day.

Arashi: Is that so? Hajime-chan, it must be so hard putting up with Ritsu-chan’s fickleness.

Hajime: Oh, not at all. I’m happy to be doing an activity for the tea club ♪ The weather will be much colder by tomorrow too—

Not to mention, the third year students will be getting very busy soon.

Arashi: Oh…graduation season is fast approaching, isn’t it?

Ritsu-chan, do you think you’ll be able to graduate?

Ritsu: Don't worry, I've got it covered~. I’ve been working hard to make sure I can graduate with Maa~kun.

Arashi: That’s a relief then. I’m sure our fans would be outraged if you repeated another year.

Mayoi: Oh? Uhm, Ritsu-san, you’ve repeated a year before…?

Ritsu: That I have. Fufu, I'm seasoned with many life experiences, as you can see…☆

Arashi: Oh please, it’s not something to be proud of, now is it?

Ritsu: Yeah, yeah~. But it wasn’t all doom and gloom, you know?

I got to be in the same grade as Maa~kun and bask in all the extra time I had.

Haa~kun should follow in my footsteps and repeat a year too…♪

Arashi: Hey, don’t try to make it sound appealing. Repeating a year is a big deal.

Ritsu: I’m kidding, I’m kidding. It’s just a little Rittsu Joke ♪ Haa~kun isn’t going to repeat. Right?

Hajime: Yes, I believe I'll be fine. The teachers haven’t reached out to me about any problems so I should be able to move up a grade.

Graduation, huh? ...It hurts to think about everyone leaving.

Ritsu: We’re not really leaving though, are we? Setting aside the people that move overseas, the rest of us live together in the dormitories.

Arashi: True, but with how busy the third years get, you don’t think much of it at first.

But once it settles in, you get hit with a sudden wave of loneliness.

When that happens, don’t be afraid to get in touch with me anytime you want. Be it just to vent, or anything else, I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.

I’ll always be there for a hard-working boy ♪

Hajime: Ehehe, I appreciate it.

Ayase-senpai, I’ll refill your cup.

If you’d like, why don’t you tell me which flavours you prefer? We have quite the collection of tea leaves, so I’m sure we have something you enjoy.

Mayoi: You don’t need to go to all that trouble, I’m happy with whatever you’re willing to offer.

Arashi: Mayoi-chan, it’s better to be honest about your preferences during these types of interactions. Sharing each other's likes is the first step in getting to know one another.

Mayoi: Y-Yes, you’re right. Uhm, I like—

Akiomi: “...This is Mr. Kunugi. If I may have the attention of a certain student—”

“Ayase-kun from class 3-B, if you are still on the school grounds, please report to the staff room immediately.”

“I repeat, Ayase-kun from class 3-B—”

Mayoi: …Huh? …Huh?

Ritsu: Ohh, he said your name, Mayomayo.

Arashi: Kyaa! Even hearing Kunugi-sensei call upon other people gets my heart pounding.

The fact that it’s after school makes this feels like one of those dramas! Aah, if only it were me.

Mayoi: …

Arashi: Oh dear, are you alright, Mayoi-chan? You’ve gone pale?

Mayoi: …Hyah!?

My apologies, I was caught off guard and my mind just went blank.

Aah, the thought of being scolded makes me want to run for the hills…

Ritsu: Hmm, do you know what it’s about?

Mayoi: …I don’t, but I was a failure of a student until this summer so I’m sure I’ve messed up somehow.

Ughh, I wish I could unhear it and go home! Why can’t I just disappear!

Arashi: None of that will do you any favours. If you left now, you’ll just be summoned again tomorrow.

Mayoi: But…

Hajime: It must be shocking to be suddenly called out on the school’s broadcasting system.

It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s for a bad reason though. I’ve also been called upon before and it was only because my family had dropped off some things that I had forgotten.

If you can’t think of something you did wrong, then it’s probably good news, right?

Arashi: Totally. Kunugi-sensei didn’t sound angry either so you have nothing to be scared of.

Mayoi: I-I see…then there’s no reason to think that I’m going to be berated, and even if I run away, I’ll have to face it eventually.

I’ll try to be brave and go.

Hajime: That’s the spirit! Do your best, Ayase-senpai.

Since I wasn’t able to give you another cup of tea, I wrapped up some cookies for you instead.

Mayoi: Y-You’re too kind. Well then, I’ll be going now…

Ritsu: Bye bye~.

…Will Mayomayo be alright on his own?

Arashi: As his friend, part of me wants to go with him. I can’t stand the idea of waiting around here if it turns out to be something bad after all.

Just think of it as a little trial and do your best, Mayoi-chan.

ーSome time later

Mayoi: (...In all my reluctance to come here, I ended up dragging my feet.)

(I finally made it to the staff room.)

(Kunugi-sensei is right behind this door…)

(...Aah, I’m too cowardly to open it.)

(What could I have done wrong? I can’t think of anythi—)

(Ah, I know what it is! I’m a blatantly suspicious person that spends all his time in the ceiling…!)

(But nowhere in the school rules does it say 'No hiding in the ceiling!' and it’s not as if it causes trouble for anybody!)

(...Yet the fact that I feel guilty is proof that I recognise my wrongdoing…)

(Sigh…I’d rather not do this at all. Even now, I'm still fighting the urge to flee far away from here.)

(Ahh, no, I can’t think like that. You’ll never grow if you keep running away from your problems, Mayoi!)

(Overthinking isn't doing me any favours. I need to empty my mind and—)

(Hyah!? The door opened…!)

Back | Next

#mayoi #hajime #arashi #ritsu

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limabeans-babies-forthewin · 1 year ago

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Interdimensional Crisis Pt. 2

Second little bit to the mini fic I'm working on with Duck (my Rise OC) meeting Ronin from The Last Ronin! I'm contemplating putting all the parts together when it's done and making a one shot on Ao3 cause that sounds fun.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Part 1

"I am,” Duck agrees. “Donnie—my Donnie—was working on something. He said it was really cool and really secret, but he wanted to do a demonstration. Next thing I know, there was a. . . A whoosh!”

The turtle raises an eye ridge.

“And now everything hurts and I’m here. . . Well, technically I was definitely somewhere else until now. So I guess you did something.”

“You freaked out. I hit you. Now we’re here,” he sums.

Duck feels like they shouldn’t get so surprised about how casual he’s being about knocking them out. And yet they still are.

“You’re thinking Donnie sent you between dimensions?”

“Seems like it. It’s like everything I know, but slightly to the left. Unless he just sent me forward in time and now I’m stuck here with a different, older, scarier version of Raph.”

The turtle stiffens again, his time with the added bonus of audibly grinding his teeth. “Don’t call me that.”

A clear warning, one that causes Duck to involuntarily lean back then falter when his hand meets the air. Surprisingly, the turtle’s glare dissipates and he seems to lean forward in anticipation. Almost like he’s worried about them falling. Would he jump after them if they fell? Duck really doesn’t want to test the theory.

Once Duck feels more stable, they flash him a. . . Smile? It feels like they could be smiling, but they could also be grimacing based on the look Not-Raph gives them. They clear their throat and wrap their arms around themself. They don’t know if it’s from the nerves or the cold wind that whips around them.

“Sorry,” they say after the pause. “It’s just. . . You didn’t exactly give me a name. . .”

The turtle sits back. “That’s right.”

“. . . Are you going—”

“No.”

Duck nods. “Right. . .”

“You know my family in your dimension.”

Duck nods again. “They’re kind of like my family, too.”

Not-Raph waits.

“They. . . They found me when I was first mutated and kind of took me in.” Duck shrugs. “Mostly. I live with someone else now. But we hang out a lot. Like, everyday.”

“So that’s how you know our names.”

“Indeed it is.”

“Why do you keep calling me Raph?”

“Is Raph not the biggest in this place?”

“He is in yours?”

“Yeah! He’s—”

They pause to curl around themself when another gust of wind cuts them to the bone. They may be wearing a hoodie, but this isn’t a great winter article. In fact, they wore this one specifically because it was spring in their dimension and the weather was warming up. Either it’s winter here, or the weather is just cooling for one reason or another, but either way this definitely isn’t the correct hoodie for the day.

“He’s. . .”

They pause again when the turtle slips off his over layer, the leather jacket, and passes it over (confirming how easy it would be for him to shove them away should he choose). “Here.”

Now it’s Duck’s turn to stare at the turtle.

Who frowns back at Duck. “Look, I’m not in the mood to watch a child freeze. Take it.”

Duck does, immediately huffing in relief as they wrap themself in the residual warmth. “Thanks. And sorry. I’m not exactly used to getting help from people who. . .You know. Threatened to drop me off a bridge.”

The turtle laughs. It’s so low that Duck thinks they’ve imagined it. But no, there is the ghost of a smile on his face as he nods in understanding. “Sorry,” he says. “I was just. . . Rattled. ‘S not everyday you get called your. . . ‘S not everyday you get mixed up with your brother by a total stranger.”

He definitely left out a word there. Duck almost brings it up, but they swallow the question when the turtle seems to read their mind and level them with warning glare. So Duck holds up a hand in apology. “My bad,” they say. “My Rah is the biggest, so I kinda jumped to that conclusion.”

The glare relaxes to neutrality. “You were saying something about that.”

“I was. He’s an alligator snapping turtle.”

“Your turtles are snapping turtles?”

Duck blinks. “Oh no! God no! That’d be horrifying!” Another cold wind cuts through the space between them, and despite the oversized leather jacket they now have around their shoulders, they shiver. “They’re all different types of turtles.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm.” The temperature drops a bit more and Duck trembles. “Are—”

The turtle pushes to his feet with a grunt and Duck, again, leans back and falters when they’re reminded of the drop behind him. Thankfully, the turtle seems to have lost his desire to kill them and takes hold of his arm to haul them to their feet.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get home.”

Duck raises an eyebrow as they adjust to stand on their own and finally pulls the jacket on correctly as the cold becomes too overwhelming. Damn their cold-bloodedness. “What?”

“I have a place you can stay,” he explains. “’S not safe for mutants to wander the streets nowadays. . . Or at all really. Either way, I highly doubt you have anywhere to go, and I’m not exactly cool with hearing about a kid mutant being executed.”

“Cool. . . But—”

“Drop it.”

Duck snaps a finger gun at him. “Like you nearly dropped me off the bridge?”

Not-Raph frowns.

Duck makes a mental note to not imitate Leo anymore and clears their throat. “I’d be grateful if you let me stay with you,” they say with a shallow bow. “Thank you.”

They hear Not-Raph scoff in annoyance before he cuffs the back of their head while they’re bowing. Then he has to catch them when they stumble backwards in offence to keep them from falling. “Don’t do that shit,” he says once everyone is stable. “Just. . .Don’t be weird.”

"I can do. . . I can try.”

“. . .Not promising. But the sun’s coming up, so we need to move.”

Duck salutes as the turtle turns to head back into the shadows. Clearly without any other options, Duck follows. “You got it, Not-Raph.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Right! Right. . . What can I call you then?”

The turtle opens a door that’s light cuts a cold white rectangle through the darkness. His silhouette turns slightly to look at them over his shoulder. “Call me Ronin,” he says. “Now come on. I ain’t waiting all day.”

“Right!” Duck carefully makes their way over to the door that’s apparently always been there, making to sure to keep their center of gravity low and their arms spread wide to keep their balance. Once they feel safe enough, they do a little hop to reach the landing and fold their arms behind their back. “Lead the way, Ronin.”

#rottmnt oc #tmnt the last ronin fanfiction #the last ronin #oc fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles oc #fan character #fanfiction #my fic

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g0rerat · 7 months ago

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a small piece I wrote about the nuclear apocalypse, TW for destruction, sickness, suicide and death

The sky was on fire, hot and all encompassing. It all happened so fast, nobody could make heads or tails of what had happened. Just this morning I was seeing to the daily chores, washing, mopping, tidying; but now it seemed like it was all so futile. Is this was angels looked like? Were they supposed to burn your eyes and leave you weak at the knees? I had to wonder why anything godly would have to feel so painful.

The fire in the sky burned out as quickly as it came and just when I had felt relief, then came the rain. It was black and sludge like, staining my skin as I ran back inside. We must have been out of the immediate blast zone, only my windows were broken. I scrambled to wash the horrible liquid off of my body, throwing my clothes to the floor and cranking the faucet on. It thankfully still worked.

I clawed at my brain for any knowledge I could remember about what to do in this situation; how close to the blast did you have to be to be in serious danger from fallout? Was the rain I just got caught in a death sentence? I didn’t want to know. Maybe it was better not knowing.

The neighbors had a transistor radio, mine had been at the shop, it had been busted for ages. Static filled our ears as we huddled around the radio, desperate for any information. Nothing. Another channel on the radio yielded much the same, then another and another. All dead air. What about the rest of the country? Surely not everyone could’ve been hit, they had to be out there.

___________________________________

Days passed and I had taken shelter with the neighbors, living alone wasn’t safe. We decided to go into the country, pool our resources and hope to God that his wretched angels hadn’t gotten to there too. We took one car, thankfully there was a spare battery in the basement, and loaded in only the essentials. I took the gun you had left behind all those years ago, praying that I need not use it.

____________________________________

There were still people in the countryside, we had found plenty of them, some friendly and some not. We only stopped moving when we found a town that was plenty friendly, far in the mountains. It had survived the blasts and even had its own spring.

The five of us moved into an abandoned old house in town, fixing it up best we could. We each worked shifts helping the community as well, I even got to be of use fixing the town clock tower. The only thing this town didn’t have was an abundance of medicine and that became an issue when my former neighbors, now turned housemates, started getting sick one by one.

They may have had it the worst but it was clear the rest of the town was also suffering. A trip up to the spring told us why; it had been turned black by the dust storms that had now become commonplace. All of us had been contaminated.

I screamed that night for the first time since the sky caught on fire. It was hopeless, at least for this country. We didn’t go far enough inland, we lived too close to the blast areas, we didn’t know weather patterns. There was nothing we could’ve done. Maybe somewhere out there was bunkers, with its inhabitants safe and warm and well; or maybe there were areas where the weather didn’t carry the poisonous dust and all they had to contend with was the lack of sunlight. There was no telling, at least not for me.

_____________________________________

The gun was heavy in my hand as I sat in the forest. The animals chirped and chittered around me, at least they seemed fine. To them, nothing had changed besides a few weather patterns. At least something would inherit the earth once we were long gone.

The air was peaceful, the sky barely covered by dark clouds today. If I pretended, everything was normal again. I wasn’t sick, I hadn’t lost everything and I was just on a nice hike. The thought comforted me as I raised the gun to my temple. As I pulled the trigger my last thought was of how scared I was to meet the angels once again.

#nuclear war #nuclear horror #horror #writing

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thearchivistsjournal · 1 year ago

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Day 380,

I feel better after a night’s sleep and a morning’s breakfast. Things are still strange though. I’m writing this sitting at the kitchen table at home, morning sunlight coming in the window and the rest of a plate of fish and fruit Maiko gathered and Lin prepared for me just an arm’s length away. They’re over on the couch together right now. Cass and Vernon both said they’d be by sometime later. I’m starting to wonder if any of them are going to let me out of their sight again. Not that I mind.

I suppose I should start from the beginning. Try to cover as much as I can remember from yesterday. It’s not like I have any other plans for today, except maybe take a walk down to the beach for some sun.

The first thing that I was aware of, that I can remember, was the feeling of water rippling around my legs. Then the sound of rain. Not sure if the warm drops falling on me or the cool stone I was lying on registered next. Which is all a fancy way of saying I work up in a daze at the edge of the spring not knowing how I got there.

I was more than a little damp, soaking wet really. If I’d somehow floated up from the depths I hadn’t been lying there long enough to dry out, and if I’d come from the forest I’d been there long enough for the rain to inundate me. Not that I was quite lucid enough at the time to put that together, this is just me looking back trying to puzzle things out. I was naked. My only covering the furry hide of some beast, seemingly black but slowly washing out into the spring to reveal itself as white. Afraid to think too much on where I got that.

For that matter, I couldn’t (and still can’t) remember a great number of things, what had happened or where I’d gone chief among them. I wasn’t even sure how long I’d been gone. Had I just wandered out for the night? Had it been days? Years?

It didn’t help that my own body felt subtly off once I finally got up and tried moving. Like all of my limbs were trying to reflexively settle into a slightly different posture and gait than I was consciously used to. Not to mention the scratches and bruises all over.

Looking back, it’s probably a good thing I was so out of it at the time. I probably would have panicked pretty bad.

*******

Took a break from writing to do something I’d been avoiding since I got back. Took a look at myself in the mirror. I’m still me. Cried a little in relief. For some reason I kept expecting to find someone I recognized but wasn’t me. I think I worried Lin a little with it, but I told her it was a happy sort of crying. And it was.

*******

Back to yesterday. I only managed a few steps before falling back down. Soon, I heard a comforting wooden-ball-in-a-hollow purr-that-isn’t-a-purr. I let my eyes stay closed as I felt the nature sprite pick me up, fur cloak and all. As it carried me, an inner voice chuckled about how we matched now with the cloaks.

Wrapped in my mantle and gently rocked back and forth as we walked with the white noises of the not-purring and rain, I drifted off to sleep again.

I woke up briefly when it set me down. Just long enough to register that I was next to the rectangular pool on Siren Overlook and feel the nature sprite’s hands brushing my hair and cheek.

The sun was out when I woke up again. It was the voices that woke me up though. The voices and the shaking. Cass was shaking me to wake up. Lin, Maiko, and Vernon were standing behind her. I think one of them was telling her to calm down. Probably Vernon. Yeah, it was Vernon.

I faux-grumbled a bit, and sort of laughed as I said I was awake and getting up.

A whole lot of crying and hugging followed. All at once it hit me that, wherever I’d been, it’d been bad but somehow I was back and everyone was here and it was going to be alright. I tried thinking back more to what had happened. It seemed safer to do there, especially surrounded by the people closest to me. And they wanted and deserved to know too.

The parts I remember clearest are the Catacomb Depths. Being on the osseous shore of the black lake. In the throes of the hunting rhythm. Spike in one hand, club in the other. That other that I’d felt before, especially after funerals was there. I’m still not sure what it looked like, even though we finally found one another. When I try to picture it all I can think of is that blinding pulse of light and dark of those Depths. We tried to hurt one another. Did hurt one another. For a long time. Eventually I chased it into the lake. Or did it drag me in? Black and red and fear and thrill and pain and rhythm followed. That lasted even longer.

And then stillness.

My memory gets hazier still after that. It wasn’t always still, but it usually was. Sometimes I felt like drowning, sometimes like floating. It was never truly silent, for that rhythm never ceased, only rose and fell. At its loudest there was red too in the black and the sense of thrill returned. Then it quieted and I felt fear and revulsion. At its quietest the straining to make it out was maddening.

Mostly, I felt terribly, terribly alone.

Sometimes I didn’t though. Those were the times that felt most like floating. Those were the times I could tune out the rhythm.

And now I’m back. I have no idea if I somehow physically went to the Catacomb Depths and then floated back up through the lake and into the spring, or if I just spent two weeks feral in the woods with the nature sprite looking after me until I woke up, or something else altogether. And I’m okay with that. For now anyway. Some mysteries don’t need an answer. Some mysteries don’t have an answer. Some mysteries have an answer but may as well not because we have no way of finding out. I don’t know which one this is, and maybe later I’ll care, but that’s not what’s important right now.

Right now what’s important is that I’m back. I’m still here. All those things I said I was going to do and try to get better about I still have a chance. And everyone else is here too, making that possible. I don’t have to be alone. I never did. I never was.

But, big feelings aside, I should probably still give at least a cursory recap of the rest of yesterday.

As I said, much hugging and crying and relief happened. Then as we all finally took a moment to breathe my lack of anything besides the fur cloak I had wrapped myself in finally started to register. Embarrassment was had all around, but thankfully I don’t think anyone actually saw anything. Vernon didn’t have his mediator coat on him, but he still gave me his shirt, keeping his bright red face turned away the entire time until I had it on.

Afterwards, we all agreed that it was time to get out of there and get me home. Happy as I was, I still really didn’t feel like dealing with anyone else yet and we took the long way around the Village, off the main road and trails. We got back. I took a bath. Cass went to her house to bring back food. Lin examined my still-unidentified scratches and bruises and determined nothing was serious enough not to just let heal on its own. We had dinner. Vernon and Cass went home. Lin and Maiko spent the night. I tried to write a bit, and then I went to sleep. It was pleasant and dreamless.

And then it was today.

Vernon and Cass will probably be back soon, so I’ll try to wrap this up. Lin let slip something about a surprise when they get here. Something related to me having been here a year now.

And that’s a good point to wrap up on before I run out of pages in this journal. I’d wanted to make another milestone retrospective, but the way things worked out I missed the date.

So, one final note before I close out this volume to whomever reads this journal, whether a future archivist, a future outsider, or my future self. Or perhaps the nature sprite invisibly reading over my shoulder as I write.

To the my nature sprite: I don’t know that I’ll ever really understand you. Sometimes you’re awful and seem to exist only to torment me. Sometimes you protect me and get me through hard times. Sometimes you simply make life annoying. Sometimes you simply make life interesting. Sometimes I hate you. Sometimes I love you. Even still, I don’t think that I’ll ever be rid of you, and I’m not even sure I would if I could. I don’t know that I’ll ever really understand you, but I think I’m starting to accept you. Thank you.

To future archivists: I hope you’ve found some use, or at least entertainment, in all you’ve read. Please remember though, that I’m not a reliable narrator. This is not a record of events as they happened but as I experienced them. It’s not history, it’s the story I tell myself to make sense of things. I cannot hope to portray the full depths of anyone else’s personality or experiences. Even those closest to me I only ever see my own biased sliver of their lives at any one time. That’s the most any of us sees, but that doesn’t mean we can’t understand one another to some degree or that communication isn’t worthwhile. This isn’t The Truth (if there even is such a thing) but it is my truth. We all have one. What’s yours?

To future outsiders: Your experiences won’t be the same as mine, but I hope this still helped. By our nature we have at least some things in common. You might feel like you’ll never truly belong and that you’ll always be different in some fundamental way that keeps an invisible wall between you and even those you do manage to make a connection with. And maybe that’s true to some degree, on some level. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. And you’ll never know for sure if you don’t try. And just because you feel a little extra bit of distance that doesn’t mean the connections you make still aren’t valuable or worth making. The world is a big and confusing place, and it’s okay to feel lost. It happens. Sometimes for a long time, but you’ll find your way eventually. Or else you’ll make one. Or else someone else will find you. Don’t be afraid to take their hand when that happens.

To my future self: Look at how much of a mess you were at the start. Look at how much of a mess you still were a year later. Look at how much you grew in just a year. How much have you grown since now? Are you letting your friends help you yet? I bet they’re still there for you. Are you having a bad day? A bad year? I bet it wasn’t as bad as the week I just had. And you got through that. Did you ever make that trip back to the lake of stars? You should go again anyway. Have you made it to Cloud Tower yet? Or explore the old castle? Or some new island? The edge of the world? How was it? I hope you took lots of notes and made some good drawings. And made even better memories. What does Iole’s book say? How many classes of students have signed your book? Or has Cass kicked you out and taken over the library by now? Or is she a doctor now? I’m sure she’s insufferably great at it whatever she’s doing. Are Lin and Maiko still together? What am I saying, of course they are. I wonder what Maiko settled on doing with her days in the Village. Whatever it is, I hope she found something she has a passion for. Did Lin ever start humming again? I hope so. She always seemed so happy when she was doing that and I don’t think that was ever a mask. And how’s Vernon? Still his charming, perfect gentleman self I assume. I left things off with him kind of weird before I disappeared, but I’m glad you patched it up with him. What new stories have you and Pat shared? Any good local ones like The Girl From the Forest that you’ve transcribed? Have you made up any new ones? I’m sure you have. I can’t wait to find out what they are. And I know I was a little glib about it earlier, but if you’re in a rough spot right now - and I’m sure you’ve had a few since you were me - don’t lose hope. You’ll get through it. You’re loved. You’re surrounded by people that care about you. You’re not actually useless. You might feel broken, but that can be fixed. It hurts every time and it’s hard, but remember you’re not alone. You exist and that’s a wonderful thing.

One day I’m going to be you. I’m looking forward to it.

<==Previous ...

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magniloquent-raven · 5 months ago

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I'm always on my "Billy has body image issues" shit and I just. What if, once he gets a proper winter coat (Steve bought it for him when he got sick of watching Billy shiver in his leather jacket), he adjusts to the cold. And he finds himself toning down his workout routine a little. He doesn't feel the need to be lifting weights and doing crunches every damn day. Skipping meals just to look a certain way. Because like. No one can even fucking tell if he's putting in the work or not, so what does it matter.

And it's actually a huge relief. Like. The people around him start to notice how much more relaxed he is, it's that much of a difference there is.

As much as he loves the attention he gets when he's strutting around half naked, it's also stressful. Constantly wondering if he's the only one who can tell he's a little bloated today, or thinking about what position to sit in that won't make his stomach look pudgy, and keeping his abs flexed when he knows people are looking. It's tiring. Being tensed up, posed and on display.

He doesn't even notice how comfortable he's gotten until the weather starts to get warmer, and he has a full blown panic attack looking at his gut in the mirror. Realizing that when he ditches the coat people will see it.

He's been mostly ignoring the weight he's put on. It's not like it's made his ass look worse, and that's what he's been focusing on lately. Because obviously he's still showing that off, nothing can stop him from wearing impractically tight jeans.

But then spring creeps up on him. And suddenly he's all too aware of what he's been hiding under his shirt. And it hits him all at once. The stress he's been leaving behind in pieces for months.

Steve is the first person to notice how pissy Billy is all of a sudden, and he tries to cheer him up by pointing out that it's supposed to be super warm next week. Which is the worst thing he could've said. Steve's just surprised, okay? He's noticed Billy's been enjoying the winter (way more than he thought he would), but he figured he's still a Cali boy at heart, right? He's gotta be looking forward to summer.

**bonus HCs: A couple days later Billy's shirtless at home tryna work off the winter weight and Steve barges in on Billy being all sweaty and out of breath. And Steve's feelin' all kinds of (horny) ways about how much thicker around the middle he is now, because holy shit. He just. He looks GOOD okay. So good Steve doesn't really hear Billy bitching at him for interrupting, because his brain is melting out his ears, and what's left of it is busy trying to keep his hands from doing some really inappropriate grabbing.

(the grabbing happens later)

And years down the line maybe Billy moves somewhere with longer winters. Because somewhere along the way he stopped clinging to the idea that he'd move back to California, and started looking forward. But still to somewhere that isn't Indiana, because fuck Hawkins. Maybe Steve pulls some rich boy strings and gets him a job at a ski resort. Maybe Billy gets a dumb lovey husky mutt and they play fetch with snowballs (which do not survive dog mouth, but she tries to give them back anyways).**

Give me a Billy who fucking EMBRACES winter! Give me a Billy who dresses in warm clothes and loves squinting against the sun against newly-fallen snow and who is LETHAL in a snowball fight. Give me a Billy who soon outclasses everyone in Hawkins on a snowboard, because "it's like surfing, only I can't fall off the board!"

Give me a Billy whose only regret is that he can't snowboard shirtless (and who, when he's drunk, does it anyway).

#here u go 🥰#turns out my tags weren't just too long for u to screenshot they were also just. generally too long.#because tumblr cut off the last bit that i wrote 😂💀#fic reblogs

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running-with-kn1ves · 3 years ago

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A Different Scent

Male! Werewolf X GN! Reader

A/N: sorry for the hiatuses-- it's exam season and I'm trying to survive. This was inspired by a manga I've been reading and werewolf ASMR-- strange but hey it created this pile of soft (?) angst!

Synopsis: your werewolf boyfriend comes home to find another mans smell on you, leading him to become quite the insecure and suspicious lover.

TW: LOADS of angst, cheating accusations, jealousy, fluff, reverse comfort

"I'm home!"

A booming voice traveled down the hall accompanied by even louder footsteps.

"Where are you? Sweetheart?"

"In here!" You called from down the basement.

You heard his sigh of relief as he walked down the basement steps.

"What're you doing down there?" He bent down to avoid hitting the wooden beam near the door.

Wiping sweat from your forehead, you looked at your hard work.

"Oh just... spring cleaning."

There were piles of items ranging from old photo albums to unused car parts, thanks to the man across from you. He liked to store a variety of things down in the basement if he thought he would use them someday. He never did.

The basement had looked like a hoarder's home until you came into the picture.

"Cal, how did you let your house get this bad?" You stared in disbelief at your boyfriend.

He shrugged, throwing down his gym bag on the dusty floor.

"Dunno. Anyway, aren't you gonna say hi to me?"

"Hi." You deadpanned, returning back to the accumulation of items on the floor.

He pouted at the response.

"Awe that's no way to treat the man who you love."

"Are you sure about that? Maybe you deserve a bit of reprimanding for all this stashed trash."

Cal let out a playful grunt and pulled you into his arms. Lifting you off the ground he moved back toward the stairs.

"Wait! I'm not done in here-"

"And?" He hoisted you over his shoulder. "Aren't I more important than some junk?"

"That's not the point let me down!" You beat against his back but Cal kept walking. You could see his tail wagging from behind, excited you were in his grasp. He was so ready to squeeze something soft and warm after such a long day.

Sometimes, it was a real hassle having a werewolf as a boyfriend.

His ears twitched with excitement as he headed up the stairs to the couch. You grumbled, failing to get out of his grip.

"C'mon let me go!"

"Never." Cal muffled into your side as he kissed your abdomen. He tossed you onto the couch as you let out an "oomph!"

"I've been waiting all day for this." He grinned, looking down at you as you laid at his mercy.

He was often affectionate, but tonight was a whole other level. Without warning, he jumped on top of you as you cried out.

"No, I'm all sweaty! And I need to finish--"

He cut you off as he smothered you with kisses. "So am I-- but you don't see me making a big deal out of it." He inhaled your smell, traveling down to your neck. "m'just got back from the gym too. Don't cha wanna see how hard I worked?"

You covered your face, embarrassed at how he was slowly inching his shirt up. You pulled his hands back down and looked away.

"You're so embarrassing..."

"You're right," he pulls your hands towards his and entwines them with his own. "I want to smell you first before I go there.."

"No!" You cried out, embarrassed even more than before. But Cal didn't listen.

"Calhaun," you warned, using his full name to show your seriousness.

But he mischievously smiled, not listening to a word you said. Before you could stop him he pinned your hands next to you and buried his face into your chest.

You squirmed as he inhale your scent.

"Don't," you whined. "I've been cleaning all day I don't--"

He mumbled against your chest as you squirmed around.

"M’smell so good..." Cal removed his hands from yours and ran them down your body. "I've been waiting all day for this."

You tried once more to get up, but his weight was too much. He laughed against you and crept a hand up your shirt.

Sighing out of defeat, you looked down at him with a heated face.

"Don't try anything mister."

"Oh ye, of little faith."

He laughed and traveled down your abdomen, smelling each inch of you.

"Your smell... is so sweet.." he massaged your flesh and dug his face under your shirt. "But...what's this...?"

"What? What is it?" You feared for the worst, knowing all of Cal's senses were far sharper than yours.

"It's..." he lifted your shirt up further, his nose pressed against your stomach. "Something different, it's not your smell."

You looked at him with a perplexed expression.

"It smells like...another man."

"Huh?"

"Someone else's scent... it's musky. Barely there but I can smell it. "

Cal’s voice dropped in pitch as he began to grip tighter onto you.

"Why... Do you smell like that?" All playfulness in his voice left. "I thought you said you were home all day."

He climbed up from your stomach and moved to stare into your eyes. His expression was dark, giving you a thin frown and drooped ears.

"I was!"

"So why do you smell different, You were here with another man alone?"

"No-- I, I just had some friends over to help..."

"Male friends. Of which are always trying to get into your pants."

"They aren't like that.." you mumbled. Cal stared you down.

"They arent like that, really? Then tell me who came."

"Just.. the guys you met last week."

"Right."

Cal grit his teeth, his body tensing up."So the ones who were all over you. Touching you and talking about your ass all night."

You gripped Cal's hand that held pressure in your own. The dark look that washed over his eyes made you nervous.

"That's not true." You frowned.

"Yeah? Cause I saw them gawking at you the entire time. I heard the words come straight out of their mouths."

"They just came to help out!"

"You're too nice for your own good you know that!? theyll take advantage of you any second they get!" Cal shouted back.

You went silent, unable to make eye contact with him. His words had some semblance of truth. Some of your friends had tried to make a move on you, but you always thought it was a joke or just a friendly gesture.

"If you dont love me than just say it." He mumbled.

You stared in shock at him.

"What… why would you say that…"

"Forget it." Cal pouted, moving off of you.

"I mean if you were gonna cheat at least get that scent off before you see me." He said barely above a whisper.

"That's-- how could you say such a thing?!"

Cal looked guilty, uncrossing his arms.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean that…"

"Do you not trust me? Do you really think I'd hurt you like that!?"

"No I do trust you," Cal grabbed your hands desperately at seeing your bewilderment. "But I don't trust them. I'm..."

"What?"

"I'm-- gosh I don't want to say it!'' Cal lowered his voice. "I'm… intimidated by them..."

"...intimidated?" You could hardly stifle a laugh.

Cal? Intimidated? Your 200 pounds of muscle werewolf boyfriend was scared of your friends' intentions?

"I promise you there's nothing to be afraid of when it comes to them." You brought his face into your hands.

"Yeah I know I know," He fidgeted and looked away. "But I can't help it when everytime you smell like them, it makes me so... ugh."

"Awe..." you couldn't resist. He looked so cute pouting. "I dont think I've ever seen you jealous before." You teased.

"I'm..I'm not jealous!"

"You looked at him with your eyebrows raised and an emotionless stare.

"Okay, maybe i'm a little jealous. But so what! I'm allowed to be jealous."

You laughed and kissed his cheek.

Cal smiled into your hand and pressed his lips against your palm. Despite his small grin, the worry from his eyes didn't leave.

"That's not all, is it?"

"No," He muffled into your hand. "But it's fine."

Cal kissed your fingertips, moving down to your wrist then to the rest of your arm. His soft, wolf-like ears flattened against the side of his head.

"No, you can't just avoid the question like that,"

You tried to pull your hand away but Cal kept his grip. Your struggle made the werewolf take matters into his own hands, pinning your hands behind you as he pulled you into his lap.

"Let me go." You faced him defiantly.

"And why should I?"

Cal looked smug, pressing his chest up to touch yours.

But despite his cheekiness, an idea brewed in your head.

"Alright, fine. But if I have to stay here, you're going to tell me why you're still upset." You gave him a deep grin.

Cal rolled his eyes letting out a dramatic sigh.

"It's not all that important!" He looked conflicted, deciding whether or not to answer you. "It's just.. sometimes I think, maybe you'd want someone normal," He stares at the ceiling, holding onto your waist limply. "Yknow, someone who won't slobber all over you when he kisses you." He laughs sadly but it turns into a frown. "Someone who doesn't crush you everytime he tries to give you a hug, or is afraid of scratching you. "

Cal suddenly looked uncomfortable at the thought of touching you.

"Oh Cal," you say with pity in your voice.

"Don't do that." He puts a hand over his eyes. "You know as well as I do. You never stopped to think for a moment of how our future would be? What you're going to have to face?"

"Of course but I-" you swallowed thickly. "I never thought of it that way. It has never been a chore for me or a fear to be with you. I think of us with... excitement." You were desperate for him to look at you. "Cal, listen, I don't want anyone else. Look at me."

You cupped his cheeks and pressed your nose against his. "No one else. I don't care if you're messy sometimes or a bit too strong, I love those things about you."

Cal stared back, hanging onto every word, waiting for a 'but,' or a look of deceit. But neither came.

"Are you sure…?" He said in a low whisper.

"Positive." You ruffled his hair and looked into his eyes. "I love you, and nothing will ever change that."

Your sincere voice was like music to his ears. Cal smiled against you, grabbing your waist to secure his hold.

"Say that again?" He asked.

"I said--" you looked back down at him to see a triumphant grin on his full lips. "Nevermind."

"No no! Say it again, what was that?"

"Now you're just teasing me--!"

Your face grew hot with cal kissing your neck and pleading for you to repeat yourself.

It was the first time you ever spoke the words 'I love you' to him. His soft, animalistic ears flicked against your chin as he ran his lips down your body. Suffocating you with a hug, Cal's large tail flicked from behind, swishing back and forth like a happy dog.

"NOW you're gonna crush me--" you managed to choke out between his sloppy kisses and the squeezing fingers gripping you.

Cal's nails were dangerously close to cutting the dip of your back; his hold on you decreased as he whispered next to your ear. His hot breath fanned over face, lips threatening to consume you.

"I love you too."

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jedifarmerr · 2 years ago

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50 Shades Of Marcus

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader(she/her pronouns but no name or physical descriptions)

Summary: The 50 Shades of Gray trailer leads to an interesting conversation which sets off an unexpected chain of events.

Word Count: over 10k (seriously this is mostly porn 70% at least)

Rating/Warnings: E for Explicit (18+ seriously). Smut, Dom!reader (Pretty soft dom), sub!Marcus, language, ambiguous age gap, lingerie (while SavagexFenty wasn't around I take most my inspiration from there since it is inclusive), yearning. Again don't wanna give too much away But this is decently tame for a Dom/sub and if you have any questions or want a full list, you can either message me or check this on AO3.

I'm still new to writing this dynamic so please let me know if I got anything wrong.

A/N: Thank you everyone for the support on the first part, seriously never expected it!

Read Part 1 - here

Part 2: A Darker Shade

Marcus stood outside her door, a Redbox movie tucked under his arm and a to-go bag of Thai in hand. Glancing at the golden knob, a rush of butterflies hit him.

Would it feel different?

Was everything going to change?

Safe to say it was new territory for him. Always more of a relationship guy, the closest thing Marcus had to a friend with benefits – or whatever this was called – was in middle school when his neighbor Allie suggested they be the other’s first kiss.

It was like comparing apples to oranges. Or in this case a peck to a mind-blowing…handjob.

Obviously he’d talked to her in the past few days. A few texts here and there, mostly planning for tonight.

But, seeing her? That was a different story. Aside from Saturday – for the half-hour breakfast/run down – he’d seen her once, the other morning on the landing but the smile and wave as a proclaimed art connoisseur barked in his ear which barely counted.

Marcus wasn’t worried, per se, to see her, more anxious for the unknown. A tad nervous about how the new dynamic might bleed into what was already so great.

Well, there was no time like the present to find out.

Marcus took a deep breath then opened the door. At the sound of it, she jumped up from the couch.

“There you are.” She smiled, wide and warm. His mouth opened but nothing came out, his brilliant mind was suddenly replaced by a blank piece of scratch paper. The little voice in his head called through the void, screaming to say something – a simple hi or maybe a how’s it going would do.

But no.

In a dash of panic, the room filling with the pad of her feet as she drew nearer, he slapped a dorky smile on his face and lifted the to-go bag like a proud fisherman showing off his prized catch. The forgotten DVD slid from his armpit, crashing at his feet and all he wanted was to reverse just twenty seconds, a real life Click moment.

Marcus shook his head at himself and slung the sack on the table, before bending down to snatch up the case. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

She dismissed the ordeal with a wave of her hand and a shrug. “No need to apologize, happens to the best of us,” she said nonchalantly and plucked the DVD from his hand. “Let’s see what ya got – the Equalizer, huh? Ya know, I’ve heard good things.”

He let out a small breath of relief after spending ten minutes swiping through the movie selection; if not for the woman and her children waiting patiently, he probably would’ve been there all night.

“Ya know, Eric actually recommended it so I wasn’t too sure, but just thought ya know - why not?” Marcus tugged at the knot on the bag a few times until it finally loosened. She glided past him into the kitchen while he pulled out two entrees and an order of her favorite, spring rolls to share.

“Maybe Eric will be right this time.” He chuckled at her teasing of the co-worker he’d told her so much about. “Want anything to drink?”

She stopped at the fridge, twirling to face him and he swore – for just a moment – her eyes flickered across his shoulders and slim waist, hugged by his tight t-shirt. If so she didn’t have any shame about it, settling back on his face with a waiting tilt of her head.

“Water,” he croaked out, promptly clearing his throat while sinking down in the chair. “Please,” he politely added.

The fridge groaned to life, ice crashing in the glass cup. “Thanks again, by the way,” she said as the water hissed against the cubes. “For picking this up for us. Got a receipt? I think mine’s usually 12 dollars?”

He dismissed her offer like it was a gnat, but knew she had the persistency and stubbornness of a fly. She went to debate, but he beat her to it. “I insist.” Her lips pursed, studying him and he cocked his brow in defense. “Besides, I owe you for the pizza - and don’t forget Rocco’s.”

“Please, that was nothing.” She shook her head, handing him the glass.

“Yeah? Well, neither was this.” His voice and cocky grin left no room for argument.

She huffed, sliding into the chair opposite of him. “Well I got dibs on next time.”

“Hmmmm, I think I can live with that.” He smirked, plucking up a spring roll and taking a bite – a few pieces of cilantro falling from his lips to the container.

She popped open the lid, “Oooof, now this looks amazing.” She stabbed the noodles, twirling them around her fork then blowing off the steam before taking a cautious bite.

“Sorry it took so long. My meeting ran late and I wanted to chan-” His explanation trailed into silence as her finger shot up, swallowing.

“I swear, I’m gonna kick you out if you apologize again.” Her laugh was light, an empty threat.

“Sor - ah, won’t happen again,” he said, raising a hand in surrender. She nodded, giving her best serious face. The sound of chewing surrounded the table for just a few moments, Marcus sipped on his water. “Alright,” he set the glass down. “I gotta ask. How was that yoga class?” An annoyed, almost pissed off look flashed across her face. “That bad?” He asked.

She patted the sides of her mouth with a napkin. “Worse.”

Little did Marcus know he’d opened up a can of worms.

The yoga class she’d gone to with some co-workers for team bonding (not her idea) after breakfast on Saturday ended up being a fast-paced, hot yoga class instead of something calm and tranquil like advertised. By the end of the hour her mat was surrounded by a puddle and the coffee and croissant from earlier were dangerously close to making a reappearance. The only brightside seemed to be the prospect of a new friend.

Once she was done ranting, she spent the rest of the dinner focused on him. Asking him about his caseload, listening intently to his stories and almost falling out of her chair laughing at Eric’s countless shenanigans.

Both full and satisfied, Marcus popped in the movie and plopped on his end of the couch with her following soon after. Watching it with continuous commentary as if nothing had happened.

“So,” she said, turning to him as the ending scene panned out, “Come on. Whaddya think?”

“It was -” he shrugged, “Pretty good, yeah – entertaining, interesting enough.”

“Oh, here we go,” she teased with a playful roll of her eyes. “What was it this time? No wait, let me guess. Was it the fact that it wasn’t made before you were born? No - no, because it wasn’t on the classics list on google? Wait - I got it, it wasn’t black and white?”

He clicked his tongue, “I show you one black and white movie –”

“Nononono – don’t even. Don’t down play it, we both know it’s more than that.” He smashed his lips together and twirled his head from side to side. “Alright, there was – It’s A Wonderful Life -”

“Oh come on. That’s a holiday classic.”

“Pfft. Doesn’t change the fact it’s black and white.” She snorted and a smile broke through his lips. He motioned his hand in a circle for her to continue. “Then there was…Citizen Kane and oh - Casablanca.”

“Now, you liked Casablanca,” he said and she wagged her head back and forth.

“You’re completely missing the point. Look. Just admit it, old movies you give a pass to, but new movies – suddenly you turn into the biggest critic.”

Marcus crossed his arms against his chest. “What can I say? They don’t make ‘em like they used to.” Her laugh was soft, warm on her lips.

Shaking her head, she bounced to her feet and twisted from side to side to pop her back. “You’re impossible,” she said, then sauntered over to the TV.

Marcus cruised over her simple long-sleeve and black leggings. A nothing special outfit, yet it never failed to stop him short.

Honestly, he didn’t know what she looked better in. Marcus found her stunning in everything.

He loved seeing her so casual, bare face and cozy, but damn if he didn’t lose his breath anytime he saw her in those satin blouses tucked into power pants. Then that leather outfit, don’t even get him started – that actually ruined him; all week he wondered what else she had hidden away.

Always one to be respectful, he hated those guys who gawked and ogled women like fresh meat. But he found himself in a moment of weakness, unable to tear himself away as she bent over to hit the eject button. Those black leggings latching onto her thighs and the swell of her ass – not for the first time, he found himself jealous of an inanimate object.

Too distracted with the lower half, he missed that she was peering over her shoulder. “Like what you see?” She teased with a questioning brow.

His guilt-wide eyes shot to her and she giggled at the pink of his cheeks. Marcus scrubbed a hand down his face, “Fuck,” he mumbled, dissapointed in his lapse and feeling a tad creepy. How long had she been watching him, watch her?

“It’s alright.” Her words fell delicate, an innocent sounding whisper wrapped in a sultry coat.

She slinked back to him, and his gaze held to hers. He couldn’t believe this was happening, moments ago it was like nothing had changed but now, she was fitting herself between his thighs; his heart booming in his chest like a speaker blaring at a concert, loud enough he swore she could hear.

“I like when you look.” It dripped from her lips like water through a colander. As if she had no clue that such a simple sentence made his mind spin like a windmill in a tornado. He gulped, surprised and innocent.

Her hand reached into the space between, “Come on,” she said, tilting her head to the front door. Helped to his feet, a step behind as he followed her, the sentence wisping through his mind like a hypnotic spell.

Opening the door, she cradled the side of it as he stepped out into the landing. Inhaling the thin and untainted air in hopes to clear the fog threatening to take over his frontal lobe.

She handed him the DVD, “Make sure you return that.”

He slapped the case against his palm with a firm nod. “Will do,” he teetered back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Well, I had fun.”

“Yeah? Me too.” She smiled and damn it made him never want to leave. “Marcus, I know it’s been a few days but I um - just wanted to check and see if you’re still feeling alright about everything? I would’ve asked earlier, but since it was our first time hanging out I kinda wanted to keep it separate, if that makes sense.”

Marcus couldn’t help but wonder if she’d dealt with a situation like this in the past, but judging by the sound of her voice it seemed like this was relatively new territory and he wasn’t alone in feeling a tad anxious about tonight. However she did a much better job of hiding it or handling it.

“I get it.” Honestly, he did and appreciated her want and effort to maintain the friendship. “And to answer your question - yes. Uh - I still feel good, uh - really good.” His voice was sincere – earnest to a fault.

“Good,” she gave a single nod, then peered up through her lashes. “Then, are you still interested in –”

“Yes,” he blurted, his jaw clamping together immediately as her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Sorry,” his head dipped to the side. Lucky for him, she appeared to enjoy his eagerness, as the shock faded and her lips upturned on the sides.

“ ‘s okay,” she assured and to his surprise, inched closer. Brushing up against him, every hair on his body stood at attention as his breathing picked up into a steady pant in his ear. The effect she had on him was dizzying, nothing like he’d ever experienced with Teresa or – hell even Angela. “Do you have any plans on Friday?”

His head shook back and forth with a squeaked out ‘no.’ In the moment he couldn’t care less about playing it cool or acting like he needed a second to think, just to make it seem he had a semblance of a personal life.

“Alright, well.” Her finger brushed against his tummy, up his cotton-covered chest. “Would you wanna come over?” At her bare whisper, Marcus turned to putty in her hands – malleable.

“Mh-hmm.” His head moved like a flicked bobblehead.

“Good,” she said in a husky voice, eyes flickering to his lips while licking her own. “It’s getting late, I think it’s time we call it a night.” He whimpered as her finger trailed to his neck, across his bobbing Adam's apple. Making his body scream for more – of what, he wasn’t sure but knew he would’ve taken anything and everything she would’ve given, even the smallest crumb.

When she stepped away and into her apartment, he choked down a whiny gasp of air. “Sweet dreams, Marcus. Oh – and you should probably take care of that.”

His eyes dropped to the tent in his sweats. “Oh - shit - damn it.”

She shot him a self-satisfied grin and winked. “I’ll text you,” and with that, she closed the door.

Marcus stared at the dark wood for a solid minute, then muttered out a curse, palming his cock as he fumbled with his keys.

He was in deep deep trouble.

---

Jovial laughter and easy conversations broke through the glass pane walls of the usually stoic and serious conference room. They were celebrating a major bust in a decades-long case. Marcus was basking in the high spirits of his fellow agents. Everyone had really let their hair down, hanging their blazers over the rolly chairs and bunching up their sleeves.

Leaning against the wooden table, Marcus smiled at the agents coming over to check the empty pizza boxes and refill their cups from an array of two-liters. Turning back to politely nod along, using every bit of cognitive strength to focus on Shannon’s prattling.

Twirling a strand of auburn hair around her finger, Marcus peaked over at the clock above the door – once again. The hand ticking closer and closer to the time she told him to be over. He still needed to shower and change, but every effort to leave the conversation was thwarted by her refusal or inability to catch his subtle and polite hints.

“Hey guys.” Marcus’s eyes lit up at the Baltimore twang; Eric slung his arm around his shoulder. “How’s it goin’ over here?” Eric asked with a dopey wide grin.

“Fine,” Shannon said with a tight smile, the red solo cup popping under her perfectly french manicured vice.

Eric raised his brows, catching her hint. “Well, I won’t keep ya too long. Listen, most of us are gonna hit up Barney’s after this and from there, well. We’ll see where the night takes us. You down?” He pointed at Shannon first.

“I’m in.” Her bright green eyes stared hopefully at Marcus.

“Boss?” Eric raised his brows and the conversation dwindled around them as the other agents listened for his answer.

“Ahh, can’t tonight.” The group groaned in unison. “I swear another time and actually-” he flicked his wrist out, checking his watch. “Oooh, in fact - I need to get goin’ soon. It was great talking to you Shan, hope your cat gets to feelin better.”

A ghost of a smile played on Shannon’s lips as she shuffled over to another group in the corner. Needing to clean up, Marcus stacked the unused red solo cups. “Anyone want a refill?” He pointed to the two-liters.

Eric pounced into his line of sight, “What are you doing tonight?” Marcus glanced around the room and the agents prying eyes scattered to all four corners.

“Nothin really,” he tilted his head with a nonchalant shrug, “Just hanging out with a - friend.” His nose wrinkled at the word like it wreaked of sour milk.

“A friend, huh?” Eric twisted his lips to the side, hand flourishing in the air. “And how’d you meet this friend?”

If Eric was trying to be sly it was a piss poor attempt and Marcus scoffed. “She’s my neighbor.”

“Oooooh.” Marcus immediately realized his mistake. Eric leaned in, his voice low “That’s kinky.” He wiggled his brows and Marcus couldn’t help but chuckle, little did he know. “And is this neighbor, well - does she happen to be…attractive?”

It wasn’t like Marcus was against sharing aspects of his personal life with his colleagues. Hell, his poor secretary had to listen to him pour over his whole life – or at least the trail of failed relationships – at lunch for the first two months. Don’t worry, he bought her something nice for Christmas.

But with her it was…different. For one, he’d never talk about sex and especially not his kinks. Secondly, he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea or more so…for him to feed into it.

Ignoring the question, Marcus turned to the room. “Last call before it’s going in the fridge.” At the shake of heads, he gathered up as many bottles as he could carry and headed for the break room next door. Eric grabbed the rest and followed right on his heels.

“You’re not very slick, I see what you did there.”

Marcus shook his head, turning the corner. He knew he was a lousy liar and felt it best to not even attempt.

“Ya know,” Eric opened the fridge for him, “Avoidance is a form of admittance,” he said with full, plumped out lips as he packed the bottles in.

“Is that so?” Marcus nodded, then turned his lips down. Offering nothing further before heading back to the conference room.

“Yeah, so you might as well just admit it,” Eric spit near his ear. “Come on. Ya know I’m not gonna give -”

“Fine,” Marcus mumbled, cutting him off before he got a headache. Popping his hip, he smacked his jaw together as Eric beamed like an overexcited child, body jittering and eyes wide – full of hope. “Yes, she’s…attractive.”

Eric let out a gleeful gasp, “Now, was that so hard?” Marcus chuckled at the young agent, the youngest on the team. While some found him exhausting, Marcus found his energy and hopeful attitude refreshing – unless he was the object of his badgering.

“But don’t get too excited,” Marcus said, towering the empty boxes. “We’re just friends.” Marcus dreaded saying the words that acted as a pin, popping Eric’s boastful bubble and deflating him on the spot. Checking the time once more, Marcus went to grab his jacket.

Eric placed his hand on his chest, stopping him. “Now, slow down. Just answer me this, if she’s just a friend. Why don’t you reschedule, huh? I mean, she’s your neighbor - come on, you gotta see her all the time.”

Not nearly enough, Marcus thought but breathed out an easy laugh at Eric’s resilience. He quickly snatched his jacket and coat from the chair.

“And I don’t see you lot enough?” Eric rolled his eyes as Marcus bundled up. “Look, give me a date and I’ll be there. Promise.”

Eric cracked a smile, “Alright, but I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“Trust me, I know.” Marcus slung his briefcase over his shoulder and patted Eric on the back. “Have a good time and don’t get too wild.”

“I can’t make any promises there. Oh - don’t worry about those, we’ll get ‘em. Just go, don’t wanna keep your ‘friend’ waiting.” Marcus dropped the boxes back on the table, then said a quick goodbye to the other agents before rushing out the door.

---

It was a good thing Marcus was such a planner, leaving with enough time to shower and change along with an added extra ten minutes just in case. Of course, like usual all his best laid plans fell apart when two blocks in a fender bender put him at a standstill. Only to be followed up by a detour full of red lights.

By the time he threw his car into park, it was five minutes past and he bolted inside, up the stairs. Coming to an abrupt halt outside her door.

Marcus messed with his hair then cupped a hand over his mouth to check his breath. Pizza and Sprite shot into his nostrils and he cursed, swinging his briefcase around to fumble out a thing of tic-tacs, shaking a few into his hand.

Munching down on them like a beaver, he swallowed. A mint ice coated his throat, making him sputter out a cough as he headed inside.

“I’m here.” His voice was strained, sounding like he just smoked four packs in the car. He cleared his throat, locking the door. “I’m here. Sorry I’m late, there was-” His briefcase thudded to the ground, echoing in the empty room.

“In here,” she called from the bedroom.

“I’m comin’, be right there.” He ripped off his coat and toed off his shoes. “I’m so sorry, it was insane getting here.”

Balmed by the frenzy of traffic, a sudden spike of anticipation hit him along with the scent of vanilla as he walked down the hall. “Did you get all my tex-” The pointless ramblings fizzled on his tongue. “Wow.” He rubbed his hand across his mouth, down his jaw.

There she was, waiting for him on the bed with legs crossed, a languid sway of her foot.

His eyes ping ponged around her. From her thigh high stockings which clipped into a hidden clasp somewhere in the high cut, high neck faux leather leotard; a metal harness wrapped around her neck like a choker, then ran down the center of her slightly puffed out chest to outline her breasts and hide the easy access zippers there; the third zipper wasn’t so hidden, running from just below her navel to somewhere he couldn’t see just yet, but with his deductive reasoning skills had a pretty good idea.

Pursing her glossy stained lips and tilting her head, she pushed up with her hands and the shiny black pumps clicked on the floor. “You were saying?”

“I - uh - I.” The dreamy fog was already starting to creep from the back of his neck to the front of his cortex, he shook his head to try and clear it for just a moment. “Sorry.”

She hummed, “I know you are. It’s a shame though, really.” Her fingers clasped to the zippers at her breasts, a teasing sliver of skin left exposed. “I had these unzipped for you. Just waiting, nothing covering here.” The zippers growled completely shut and he whimpered at the excruciating sound. “But I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

His adrenal gland ignited at the sternness that trickled into her sultry tone. A tingle of suspension creeped across his spine, making his cock harden in his slacks. “Consider this, your first warning.” For some reason he found himself on the verge of willingly falling to his knees.

“I promise,” he rushed out, “It’ll never happen again. I’m so -”

She pressed a finger to his lips, “Oh baby, it’s alright. All is forgiven for now.” She worked at the knot of his red striped tie. “Do you remember the stop light system?” The tie slid from his neck, fast as a whip and the polyester glided around her hands, feeling it in her palms before dropping it on the dresser behind him.

“Yes, I remember.”

“Good.” She craned her neck back to take in his tailor-fit navy suit jacket with matching slacks, paired with a crisp white button up. “Mhmm, I’ve always liked seeing you dressed up like this. Look so handsome.” The compliment burned his cheeks. “So powerful,” she said while untucking his shirt and toying open the buttons. “So assertive. So…Dominant.”

She ripped it wide open and he gasped, only to swallow it back in as her nails grazed his newly exposed chest.

“But, we both know that’s not the case. Don’t we?” The look in her eyes from under her lashes and the power in her stature had his knees nearly buckling, hands shooting to steady himself on the dresser. “Tell me, Marcus. Who’s in charge?”

He gulped down the air in the room, tasting his own desperation on his lips and letting the word, “You,” slip with the breath he took. “You’re in charge.”

She hummed, low and pleasing and he inhaled it, like it was an aphrodisiac, smelling of dark chocolate and red wine. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.” Her knuckles glided along the sparse hairs at his navel and he keened. “But don’t worry, I’m gonna take such good care of you. That’s what you want, right?”

“Please, yes. God, yes,” he said, the neediness of it gleaming in his wide-brown eyes.

“That’s what I thought, now let’s get you out of these clothes.”

Desperation thrummed in her fingers, pushing off his shirt and jacket into a pool at his feet. The idea that she was eager to see him naked, that she desired his body made his cock pulse, begging for attention that she avoided while undoing his belt and tossing it to the side.

Suddenly, out of nowhere she was crouching (refusing to kneel) and his body went taut. She peered up at him, slowly licking her lips then eyeing his cock. Burying her nose at the apex of his clothed thigh, his knuckles burned as his palms dug into the wood, fighting the buck of his hips.

With a taunting hum, she pulled back and flicked open the button, carefully unzipping his slacks. Tugging them down, joined by his black briefs soon after. His cock nearly whacked her in the face as it sprung free.

“Much better.” She popped back up, and looked him up and down. “How ‘bout you get comfortable.”

Marcus’s brows pulled tight when she stepped to the side. He hadn’t realized when coming in – obviously distracted by much more pressing things – but her beed had been transformed into a relatively flat surface, no pillows and only the comforter and fitted sheet remained.

She motioned to the bed and he stepped out of his clothes, leaving them in a heap to sit at the edge. A box on the vanity caught the corner of his eyes – black velvet and no bigger than one for shoes. Following his line of sight, she smirked. “Oh, I see you found your present.”

His smile betrayed him, “You got something for me?”

“Mh-mmm.” A naughty grin quirked her lips as she tipped back the lid and pulled out a red rope that made him squirm. “You liked being tied up last time?” Aside from the small inflection and the waiting look in her eyes, her matter-of-fact tone hardly posed a question.

“Yes,” he squeaked out and she gave a short nod.

“Yeah? You looked so good tied up. Did so good for me. But I think you can handle a little more, don’t you?”

Suspense wracked his body as she gingerly put the red rope to the side and pulled out two separate restraints. Similar to the ones she used last time, a cuff at one end and a belt enclosure on the other, but these were connected by a short silver chain. She glanced down at his feet and he realized they were meant for his ankles.

His eyes shined at the idea, cock twitching for her to see. “I think - I think I can take it. I wanna try.”

“Baby, I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so good using your words.” She beamed and his neck went flush like a teacher’s pet. “Okay, go on lay back for me.” He obeyed her order without conviction. Laying flat on his back and taking each directive as she positioned him exactly where she wanted.

Her footboard looked like a golden halfpipe, a dip in the middle perfect for easy crawling access with a curve that led into a solid pole at each end – perfect for ankle restraints. It fit her needs to a tee and left him wondering just how long it took her to find it.

Propping up on his elbow to watch, she secured his ankles to the bedpost, tugging at her request and assuring her it wasn’t too much. As she snatched up the red rope, Marcus laid back and stared up at the ceiling. The mattress dipped under her weight and the scent of her rich perfume wafted over.

His breath hitched and he looked over, finding himself mere inches from the strip of satin running down the center of her thighs. His tongue darted out, imagining tracing it up the crease and further to her warm wet cunt. The memory of how she tasted tingled his tongue, and he groaned – ravenous for more.

“Clasp your hands together.” Her voice knocked him from his thoughts and he followed her model. “Just like that, now above your head.” The rope was surprisingly soft, made of cotton with an easy slip ring that had his hands bound in seconds.

His biceps flexed as she looped the rope over the headboard. Pulling, his muscles stung and he groaned at the feeling – but shockingly not in pain, but in pleasure. “Too tight?” She asked.

He gnawed on his cheek, confused by how his cock throbbed at the dull discomfort and he shook his head.

“Oh, did you like that?” She asked – a mix of shock and intrigue. A shy smile plumped his flush cheeks and she offered him another small tug – only a mere bit, but still had his head lulling back with a low moan; she rumbled out a sound of approval and slotted the information away for later.

With him securely knotted to the headboard, she stepped back to appraise her work like an artist finally seeing her muse on display. Actually, how she examined him made him feel like he was art, studying all the tiny details: the subtle twitch of his strained muscles, beads of sweat just beginning to drip down his browline, the weight of each heavy draw of his chest.

“So beautiful,” she said, as her eyes lingered particularly long on what being at her complete mercy inflicted upon him, cock red and pulsing for her.

Gaining a wicked gratification from it, a grin teased her lips. “Tug,” she ordered. He complied and a thrill ran down his spine as the restraints had him basically nailed to the mattress. Grabbing a small pillow and a thin, folded up blanket from under the bed, she put one to support his lower back and the other under his neck for both comfort and watching purposes.

He stared up at the ceiling, trying and failing to control his breathing as her heels clicked around the room. He’d expected her to crawl between his thighs but, instead she crawled in next to him. Pulling her legs up tight and stacking her knees, heels teetering off the edge.

“You’re so handsome, Marcus.” The raw honesty in her voice and the vulnerability of the moment left a salty taste in the back of his throat. Which was momentarily forgotten as her focus zeroed in on the parts she previously neglected; fingertips dancing along the pulsing vein of his neck to his Adam’s apple. “Did you take care of your problem once you left the other night?”

The realization of how utterly exposed he was stabbed at him like a splinter, a tinge of embarrassment crawling into his skin. He fought through his years of conditioning, of holding back. “Uh-huh,” his eyes rolled skyward. “I had to.” She frowned at the ounce of residual shame that wrapped itself around his hoarse voice like a cobra.

She caressed his jaw, “Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” he licked his dry lips. “Of course.”

“Then there’s no shame about it.” He let out a single breathy laugh at how her easy response seemed to ease the worry between his brows. He knew she wasn’t being flippant, but instead trying to show him there was no shame or judgment here, in her room. “Now tell me, did you think of me?”

“Always,” he choked out, “I always think of you.”

“Good,” she said, her hand went back and forth over his collarbone. “I want you to only think of me when you touch yourself.” The slight possessiveness in her comment made his cock twitch. “You wanna know a secret, Marcus?”

“Yeah” he whimpered.

She leaned in, a breath – then another against the shell of his ear. “I fucked myself thinking of you.”

A jolt of arousal shot down his spine at the thought of her in this very bed with her fingers deep inside her and his name on her lips. A helpless whine escaped him as his hips tried to surge upwards.

“I imagined you just like this,” her hand grazed up and down the center of his chest and the desire in the pit of his belly ignited in a blazing fire. “All tied up for me. With your cock buried inside of me as I barely rocked my hips, just keeping you right there. So hard and pulsing. God, it got me so wet, just thinking of you on edge, those sweet little sounds you make as you beg for release.”

The erotic words played like a porno in his mind and his eyes shut for just a moment to watch the fantasy. But suddenly her fingertips brushed his nipple and everything – the rustle of the comforter, the faint traffic floating in and his pathetic mewl – turned to radio static in his ears.

“Oh, you like that?” She repeated the motion on the other side and it shocked him how he keened, so sensitive. “Has no one ever touched you there?”

She continued her teasing ministrations, every word that reached his slumped open mouth turned into a soft gasp. “No,” he finally got the word out, shaking his head. “More - please. More.” The plea seemed to tumble out, unexpecting and unsure of exactly what he even meant.

Of course she did. With her fingers in a V-shape she teased around the colored flesh, every so often closing the gap to lightly pinch the skin – an uninhibited moan and a shameless bead of precum converging with each one.

He gulped for air, catching his breath as she maneuvered around him for a better angle. Strong thighs caging in one of his, clothed mound hovering just above his bare skin. She made a show of plunging her fingers into her mouth, sucking them down like it was a popsicle on a hot day. With a lewd pop, a dribble of saliva clinging to the edge of her lips. Spit-soaked digits coming to circle the area, his head slammed against the pillow as she leaned in, blowing on it to bump the skin.

“I bet that feels so good. Doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” he gasped.

“What about this?” She experimentally flicked her tongue across the flesh and his back arched for more.

“Fu- yes. Yes.”

She hummed into his heated skin, stroking it with her tongue over and over again. Switching sides, letting his broken off noises guide her. Her teeth grazed over the plumped flesh then sucked it into her mouth.

His body felt like it was vibrating, pleasure coursing through his veins. Gurgled noises clawed themselves from the depths of his chest, hips desperately bucking in a useless search for her barely out of reach thigh.

As she lavished his tender skin with her tongue, her hand came to work on the other – pinching and teasing the puffing flesh. The nip of pain and simultaneous pleasure had his body zinging with sharp, raw desire.

Desperately panting, gasping her name she kissed the purpled skin. Moving her tongue up into the divot of his neck. Licking the lines of sweat and across his collarbone until he was just a puddle – all dewy skin and sticky belly.

A need for her lips elsewhere bloomed in his chest like a weed. “Please,” he gasped. “Kiss me.”

Blown-wide pupils, doused in lust, met him. Her hand brushed across his cheek, diving into his hair. “Since you asked so nicely,” she hushed a breath apart. Her spit-swollen lips met his, perfectly slotting together in a deep and slow kiss that made the ache in his cock momentarily subside. Only to climb to new heights as it turned more heated – passionate.

Pliant under her, she tugged on his hair. A moan echoed around her mouth and her eager tongue swooped inside. Docile, his lips barely managed to move – hardly kissing her back as she ruined him for anyone else.

The hand in his hair wandered to his taut and stretched biceps, caressing the pulled muscles before dipping down to his cheek, throat and further to the top of his abdomen. The hidden muscles there flexed. “Please,” he groaned into her mouth and she flicked her tongue against his. “Oh God! It feels – so much. Please.”

“Always so polite,” she said, then nipped at his jaw and curled back into his side. The bedposts trembled as her fingernails scratched down his tummy. “Doing so well, baby,” she praised, hand stopping short of his cock to swirl her fingertips around the pearly mess.

“Fuck, look at you.” She showed him her glistening fingers, and his cheeks went scarlet as she spread them, the light shining on the drips slipping through the dips and down to her knuckles. “I love how messy you get for me, it’s so fucking hot.”

Honestly he had no idea his body was capable of making so much cum it actually bordered on concering. Where was it coming from? It was as if the years of repression had stored it all away in a bank, waiting until the day she finally came around.

“I’ve - I’ve never,” his sentence faltered into a high-pitched whine as her slicked up fingertips curled the fat head of his cock. A cry, nearing a shout of her name echoed around the room as she toyed with his slit, dragging her thumb across it – spreading it open.

“What were you saying?” She continued to tease the angry tip, somehow pulling more and more precum from him. “Come on baby. Tell me.”

His glazed brown eyes blinked up at her. “It’s - it’s all for you.” A satisfyingly wicked grin broke through her lips and she rewarded him.

Steady and slick, unhurried. Her fingertips dusted across his balls and skimmed the weeping tip with each long, drawn out stroke of her warm hand. “So pretty like this,” she said in a husky voice. Glancing at his pulsing cock in her loose fist and the wrecked expression on his face – lips broken apart, quivering and the lines of his forehead curled from his weighted brow.

Marcus wanted to memorize this moment, savor it forever. Greed hazed eyes drinking in the inky black outfit, painted to every dip and curve of her skin; her chest heaved, tight puffs of air showing him she wasn’t unaffected by it all.

The need to cum thrummed through him, balls drawing tighter and tighter as it threatened to swallow him whole. But the second he looked down at her tensing thighs and remembered her promise, a new desire roared to life.

“Fuck - please. Let me - taste you.” She bit down on her lip to trap a small moan. “Please. Wanna make you - feel good. Oh - shit, like you make me - Mhm - so good.”

Her hand slowed to a halt, “Is that what you want?” She asked, the piercing and primal look in her eyes sending a shiver down his spine. The loss of friction making him whine. Her hand traveling upwards. “You want me to sit right here?” She tapped his lips.

His tongue darted out, tasting and licking her skin like a reflex. “Fuck - baby, look at you. So needy for it,” she said and he muttered a soft, please, into the pad of her fingers. He whimpered as she ripped her hand away, eying for a moment to check and make sure to which he eagerly nodded.

“You did ask so nicely, baby,” her heels tumbled, one by one to the ground and his heart pounded in his chest like an animal trying to break free of its cage. Finally - so many nights spent fantasizing about this moment and here it was.

“You’ve been so very good so if that’s what you want, then that’s what you’ll get.”

She propped up on her knees, “So patient,” she cooed while unzipping the track from her lower belly all the way to the top of her ass cheeks. “And so sweet.” She spread it open, tucking the track inward.

Grabbing the headboard, she looped one leg around him so her pussy was inches away from his watering mouth. Just out of reach, but close enough to catch a whiff of her intoxicating musky scent.

“Fuck,” He growled, “Smell so good.” Ready to devour her, he wet his lips.

The groan he let out as her nails ran along his scalp, tugging to angle him right where she wanted, was sinfully deep, like it was siphoned through gravel.

He was fully surrounded by her, thighs pressing into his stretched out triceps, glossy and swollen slit just waiting for his tongue – he could spend his life between her legs and be perfectly content.

“Beautiful.” The rasp of breath hit her cunt and she shivered. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

Her lips twitched at his praise, “You gonna make me feel good?”

“Mh-hmm, I promise. I will.”

“Okay, hold on, be patient,” she said and he whined. He’d been patient, as patient as he could be – he was growing restless, throbbing and desperate for it. “If you need to stop, blink really really fast five times.”

“Got it,” he rushed out. She held herself there for a moment, then with a single nod carefully descended.

The moment her hot cunt dragged against his lips was indescribable. Tongue graced by her tangy arousal, he moaned, eyes fluttering shut for a moment to let it consume his senses.

She braced her hands on the headboard and started to slowly rock her hips against his tongue. Delirious from it, like a drug that shot liquid lust into his veins, the world around him blurred until a soft gasp of his name brought him back to reality.

Her heated gaze penetrated the mist in his eyes, he looked drunk – dopey eyed and tongue sticking out. There was a want to wrap his arms around her thighs, smash his face into her cunt until he was absolutely drowning in it. He’d fantasized about that very scenario, but being powerless – pinned down by her weight and the restraints was the most blissful torture he’d ever experienced and he basked in the small sounds she took for herself, lapping up the wetness of her already soaked cunt.

“You like me using you?” The sharp intake of breath between her words made his chest swell with pride and cock stir, a fresh bead of precum dripping from the tip. He grunted with a helpless bob of his head – his nose bumping her clit.

Her head dropped back with a moan and the sight of her in the throws of please was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. When she snapped back there was a glint of untamed want in her eyes. The pace started to pick up, extending the slide of her hips so her clit bumped the tip of his nose again and again.

“Fuck - you take it so well. Mhmm - feels - oh. So good. Fuckin’ amazing. Marcus.”

If he was supposed to close his eyes, he didn’t care. There was no way he was tearing himself away from her. Transfixed on how she moved like she was dancing through water; babbling praise and pretty moans dripping from her smeared gloss lips.

“More,” he groaned into her pussy. Her hooded eyes bore into him, waiting and watching for his signal as she took more and more – the bed squeaking as she fucked his face.

The feeling of her wet pussy took over and his brain melted away; he could barely register his own name, let alone the growing ache in his balls nor the small rock of his hips as his cock seeked out a single touch.

“Marcus, fuck. Fuck me with your tongue - yes! Just like that.”

Not needing to be told twice, his tongue dove in and out with surprising dexterity and stamina. Clit grinding against his nose, the musky scent of her arousal enveloped him. A sheen of sweat coated her skin, tinging the taste of her on his tongue.

Wetness dripped down his chin, shimmering just like his petal-pink lips. She was soaked, spit and slick and he knew he’d found heaven on earth and it was between her thighs with his wide, wet tongue sliding in and out of her pulsing walls.

The sounds of pleasure he pulled from her strained his flushed and angry cock, but he remained painfully oblivious.

Grunting and groaning, feral noises vibrated against her folds and made her thighs tense and muscles constrict.

“That’s it baby. Make me cum, come on.” Her words fell out frantic and messy and he whined into her pussy then shook his head back and forth to stimulate her clit further. As she edged closer and closer, the knot in his only belly pulled tighter and tighter.

Her cunt clenched around his tongue. “Marcus!”

A gush of slick hit his tongue and he gasped – the wind knocked from his lungs as his own climax smacked into him. His body curling along with hers.

Piercing and sharp, like nothing he’d ever felt before. Jolts of pleasure were coursing through his body. Cock weeping for friction, desperate and searching as his hips undulate in the air. His eardrums rumbled from tightly clutching his eyes shut, blocking out her face as his cum shot onto his belly and her leather clad back.

Once the waves of pleasure subsided and reality set in, his body burned in utter humiliation. A feeling of shame prickling the edges of his screwed shut eyes.

“Marcus, baby. Marcus.” Her voice sounded like he was underwater. His head insistently shook, unconscious of the movement as she called for him again and again – a soft whisper wrapped with worry as she undid the knot.

Still, he remained frozen, shocked and unmoving, hopeful it would all somehow go away.

“Baby.” Her light caress of his cheek burned like a hot coal.

Why? Why? Why?

Why did that happen? How? He’d never cum untouched. It would’ve been one thing at 15, but at his age? He’d never felt so embarrassed.

“Marcus, please look at me. Baby, look at me.”

After a few seconds and the initial shocked waned, he peeked out. Peeling one eye open to check if the coast was clear before slowly opening the other. Her shoulders relaxed a hair, a soft smile coming to her lips with a gaze full of concern and a dash of regret? – no remorse.

“I - I,” he couldn’t breathe. “I never - I didn’t mean to-”

“No - hey. Marcus.”

“I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes with a deep sigh, wondering why it had to be him?

“Marcus, look at me. Baby.” She gently coaxed his eyes away from the ceiling and to her. “There’s nothing to apologize for.” How could she say that when he could practically hear his cum dripping down her back? “Marcus, it’s okay. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He shot her a look that said, you can’t be serious.

She looped her leg back around to settle at his side like before. His elbows slackened, but his arms remained above his head, the rope loose around his wrists. Refusing to look down and see it, he instead looked at her and found some solace. “You might think it’s embarrassing.” He snorted, she could say that again. “But I think it’s sexy.”

His brows shot to a cinch. “Really?”

She bit her lip and nodded, “Marcus, I love how reactive you are to my touch. That you get so turned on by me – by bringing me pleasure.” Her eyes and fingers glided down his heaving chest, to the evidence of his untouched climax.

“You have no idea what it does to me, hearing the noises you make. How you shiver at just the smallest touch. You’re so good for me and I haven’t had an orgasm like that in - fuck. I don’t even know.” His breathing came hard and fast and he whimpered as she wiped her finger though his cum then sucked it off with the most lewd moan. “Mh-mmm, taste so good.”

“You do too,” he shyly admitted and she giggled, short and sweet.

“Marcus.” This time, she said his name with a serious tone. “I’m sorry for pushing you too far.” He opened his mouth to protest but she stopped him by placing a finger to his lips. “I may’ve not meant to, but I did. And I never want you to feel embarrassed or anything like that. I just wanna make you feel good -”

“You do,” he rushed out, then blushed. “Obviously.”

“But - I also want you to feel comfortable - safe.” She nuzzled into his neck and he let out a dreamy sigh. “I’m still learning and for this to work, we gotta communicate. Just like we are now.”

“Usually, I’m pretty good at that,” he said. Communication had always been a strong suit of Marcus’s – just not when it came to sex, but surely that would come in time. “I just - shit. I didn’t even realize. That’s never happened to me before.” She smiled against his neck then pulled back to look at him.

“Well, did it feel good?”

He let out an airy laugh and she couldn’t help but smile at the noise. “Yeah. Different, but good. Real good.”

“Good.” She looked down at his soft cock and he could tell she was contemplating by the way her lips shifted from side to side. “Ya know, I had planned on you finishing in my mouth.” His breath caught at how relaxed she sounded, and she peered up at him with a sparkle of mischief. “If you’re interested. I think you could get hard again, what do you think?”

“I am - but I don’t - I don’t know, I’ve never…” he trailed off and she looked shocked, and honestly a little offended.

“Don’t tell me no one has ever made you cum twice in one night.” He nibbled on his bottom lip and shook his head. “One day?” He shook his head again, and she tsked. “Oh Marcus, we gotta change that, do you think you can get it up again? Do you want to? It’s okay if not, it’s entirely up to you.”

“I’d like to try.” He nodded and her fingers swept across his chest, brushing his nipples and his mind and stomach swirled.

“That’s all I ask, baby. And I’m gonna give you the choice if you wanna be tied up or not. However, if I undo you, you gotta be good and not touch without permission.”

“I can’t promise that,” he said light-heartedly, clasping his hands together.

She shuffled off the bed, “I promise, you’ll learn,” she said, closing the easy slip ring around his wrists and tying the rope into a loose knot over the headboard. Honestly, Marcus didn’t really care if he ever learned – he loved being tied up and at her mercy.

After changing out the pillow for one with a little more cushion, making it easier for him to watch, she sauntered to the end of the bed and crawled between his thighs. His cock twitched, and his nose wrinkled from oversensitivity.

“So good, baby,” she whispered and leaned in to clean the mess on his belly. His gasp turned into a moan as she licked across his heated skin. Mumbling praises into his tummy with each swipe of her tongue until all that was left was a glisten of her spit.

She peered up through her lashes and licked her lips, then flicked her tongue over the tip of his cock. It was so precise – intense – an addicting edge that made him keen, unsure if he wanted more or for it to stop entirely.

“More.” His mouth answered for him, and she swiped her tongue against his tip a few more times, each one met by an intense shudder of his body.

Giving his cock a little more time to recover, she turned her attention to his thighs. “So pretty,” she cooed, kissing and brushing her lips along his sticky skin. Teeth grazing over the meaty flesh, sinking her teeth in and sucking a mark high on his thigh.

She repeated the action to the other, and a warmth bloomed in his chest at the secret marks of which only she and him would know of.

By the time she was crawling her way up, lavishing his chest and neck in sweet kisses, his cock was almost fully hard again. “You’re so handsome,” she kissed his cheek, “So amazing,” she kissed the other, “so perfect.” She kissed the edge of his mouth, then lingered her lips above his. “I want you to remember that.”

He shut his eyes – overloaded by emotions – and her lips met his in a tender kiss. Sinking into the feeling, he moaned at the flick of her tongue over the seam, parting to let her map his mouth in slow strokes.

After what felt like a lifetime, but still too short she tugged his bottom lip between her teeth. He growled at the tinge of pain and she released it with a grin. Quick to soothe it with a light suck while reaching down to palm his cock.

“See,” she said, “I knew you could do it.” He smiled through her chaste kiss. She moved downward with soft pecks, ravishing him in the attention he desired and adored.

“Such a gorgeous cock,” she flashed him a lippy smile, “Do you want me to put my mouth on it?”

He bobbed his head, “Please, need your mouth. Need to feel it.” Not wanting to make him beg too much, she licked from the base to tip, swirling her tongue then flattening it over the slit.

“Fuck,” he muttered from his clenched jaw as she traced the thick vein all the way down. “Shitshitshit.” Eyes locked on his, she went lower and his eyes nearly popped out of his head as she took one of his balls into her mouth and sucked.

The feeling was a foreign euphoria and his legs quivered at it. When she released it with a loud pop, he immediately missed it but luckily not for long as she took the other in her warm mouth.

Most women Marcus dated weren’t into giving oral, and he wasn’t the kinda guy to ask for it or pressure it – he liked his partners willing and eager. So it wasn’t shocking that no one had ever sucked on his balls. Actually, he wasn’t sure anyone but himself had ever really touched them without it being a slip of their fingers.

Her lips curled up at the side as she wiggled her tongue along his sack. A pearly blob of precum dribbled onto his belly as she mouthed her way back up, his hips grounding into the mattress as she licked it up, like it was precious and couldn’t be wasted.

“So perfect and all mine,” she praised and he responded with a whimper. “Does it feel good?” She curled her lips inward and took him into her mouth.

He moaned, a low rumble at the hot and wet feeling. Her eyes were magnetic, pooling with lust and his mind began to drift back into that place of blissful oblivion. “Feel - feels - oh so good. Fuh- fuck.”

She sunk lower and lower, but didn’t suck. Going as far down as she could until her throat constricted, then pulled away to take a deep breath before slowly working her way back down.

He’d never seen anything like it, she was working her throat open for him, repeating the action over and over again – each time going deeper than the last. By the time her nose brushed the coarse hairs at the base of his cock, he was a babbling mess. Singing her praise an octave higher, telling her how good it felt and how good she looked.

He had no idea what he did to deserve this, but he wasn’t going to question it.

As she took him fully in her mouth, his body trembled, using every bit of strength not to fuck up into it – not that he’d get very far but it was the principle of it. She sucked and his fingers and toes curled. “You’re amazing,” he groaned. “So - damn - talented.” Each word sounded as if it was punched from his gut.

She choked on a laugh at the compliment. Pulling off his cock, a string of drool connecting her glossy lips to the fat head. “Oh baby, you haven’t seen nothing yet.”

“God. I don’t know if I can handle it.” His smile was lopsided, dizzy with desire which turned to full on vertigo at her smug smirk.

“I know you can baby,” she cooed, kissing the junction of his thigh. “I’ll show you.”

He squeaked, “okay.”

She wrapped her hands around his cock, a firm grip at his base while the other moved the velvety skin across her lips and cheeks, smearing his precum before bringing him into her eager and waiting mouth. Taking him to the hilt in one swoop.

The air was punched from his lungs.

Her free hand came to rest on his hip, rubbing soothing circles as the other kept him from cumming. She swayed her head back and forth and his cock bounced around the back walls of her throat. Judging by the way her moans vibrated against him, she seemed to enjoy the heavy weight of him on her tongue, the salty taste steadily leaking from his purpling tip.

As she bobbed up and down, slow to drag her tongue along his taut length, swirling at the tip before sinking down till her chin hit her hand. His skin was glazed, sweat dripping down his back and collecting in his mussed up hair.

“Fuck, that - oh - feels so good,” he panted. The delicious pressure once again starting to build in his lower belly.

She took him in hand, slowly stroking as she took a few deep breaths. “Baby, I want you to try not to cum. Okay? Just hold out as long as you can, can you do that?”

“Mh-mmm,” he nodded. Both hands on his hips, she pressed to hold in place then wrapped her swollen slips around his cock.

His body and mind disconnected as she began to fuck his cock with her mouth, switching between shallow and deep thrusts. Expertely taking him apart with the most lewd sucking and slurping noises, it was like a porno in real life.

When she needed a breather, she slapped his cock against her tongue. He quivered, holding back. The bed shaking as he cried her name – like he was calling out for his savior which only spurred her on.

Tears pricked his eyes, falling onto his cheeks. He’d just cum, what was it an hour ago? Thirty minutes? Even less? He had no idea, time was relative in her room. The climax seemed to build from the other and coupled with the delayed gratification, the knot in his belly was twisting, unbearably tight.

“I’m - I’m close - I don’t think I can -”

She responded with a moan, glassy eyes telling him it was alright as she continued her brutally divine pace.

It was everything. Every cell and nerve in his body roused – electrified by the tight clasp of her warm mouth. White blobs spotted the blurry outline of her bobbing head, the hitch of her ass in the air. And finally, the tight wire in his belly snapped and utter ecstasy washed him as his vision went black.

The feeling of his cock pulsing, rope after rope of his salty cum surging into the back of her mouth made him gasp. Whimpering her name as she drank it down, sucking every last drop from him until his body twitched, plopping into a satisfied heap. A delirious and lazy smile curled on his lips.

“Oh baby, you did so good. So perfect, amazing.” She continued to praise him, quickly unfastening his ankles and releasing his hands. He couldn’t open his eyes and reached out for her and just like he hoped, she fell into his arms and on the bed. He immediately nuzzled into her chest, dragging his lips over her neck.

“See, I knew you could handle it. You did so good, Marcus.” He hummed at her praise. “Always so good for me – so perfect.” She kissed his forehead and the top of his sweat soaked hair as her nails massaged into it, down to the back of his neck.

The longer he laid there, listening to her praise, the heavier the blanket of sleep became. “You sleepy?” She finally asked and he hummed in response.

“Can I sleep here?” He mumbled into her embrace. She slightly leaned back and lifted his chin to bring his mouth a breath away from hers.

“You don’t ever have to ask.”

She cupped his cheek then tilted her head, going in for a quick kiss – similar to the one he shared at 13, experimental, just testing the waters. Her eyes flickered to his then back to his lips and she kissed him again.

It felt different, so unlike the previous kisses which were always shared in the heat of the moment. Even when those started soft, they always became desperate and filled his chest with something molten and needy.

But this was somehow better. Her lips just lingering on his and the action felt intimate –

No. Stop.

He couldn’t go down that road, don’t read into it, he told himself, just enjoy. He pushed away the flutter in his stomach, ignoring the warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest and melted into her touch.

The kiss was over much too soon and he fought the urge to touch his lips, feel where he missed her most since he’d been in this bed last.

She kissed the tip of his nose and brought him back to burrow into her chest.

He never wanted to leave.

#pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x f! reader #the mentalist

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angelicyoongie · 4 years ago

Text

Out of the Woods (III)

— pairing: wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, smut — word count: 11K — warnings: mentions of past abuse, explicit sexual content! — summary: Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it's only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.

Part I / II / III

Namjoon startles with a low growl at the knock at the door, ears twisting back as it opens to reveal the nurse alongside someone you haven’t seen before. “Mr. Kim, Miss Y/n, meet Yeonjun. He’s our hybrid shelter contact, and he has some information to share with you regarding Mr. Kim’s owner. I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be back shortly,” You give the nurse a small nod before she leaves, your attention straying back to the blue-haired man standing just inside the door.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Yeonjun says, a warm smile on his lips. The wolf hybrid’s growl grows louder as Yeonjun’s eyes find yours, Namjoon bristling under your touch. “Don’t worry Mr. Kim, I’ll stay right here,” Yeonjun leans back against the wall, his posture relaxed and open despite the snarl on Namjoon’s lips. You squeeze his wrist in warning, begging him to calm down. You have no clue what Yeonjun is here for, but you don’t want Namjoon to ruin his chances of a good home by making a bad first impression. Namjoon’s growl stutters at your tight grip, and Yeonjun looks amused as the wolf hybrid forces himself to relax against the pillows behind his back. Namjoon settles for glaring at him instead, and you take that as a small win.

“Sorry, you had something to tell us?” You say.

“I do,” Yeonjun ruffles through the folder in his hand, eyes squinting slightly as he reads off the information. “It says here that the legal owner of Kim Namjoon, Mr. Kim Deok-ho, filed a missing hybrid report five years ago. Is that correct?” Namjoon offers a stiff nod, his jaw clenched tightly at the sound of his owner’s name. Your eyes grow wide at the new information. Five years? Namjoon was by himself for that long?

”It appears that Kim Deok-ho passed away a year after the report, due to a sudden heart attack. Since he had no relatives and has not left your ownership to someone else, you’re currently an ownerless hybrid.” You let out a shaky breath as Namjoon’s ears spring up at the information, his tail doing a half-hearted wag beneath the covers. “Based on the nurse’s reports of the old scars and marks on your arms and chest, we have reason to believe that mistreatment and abuse occurred during the ownership, and so even if someone from Kim Deok-ho’s past step forward in an attempt to claim you, it will be denied.” You slump back in your chair, desperately blinking away the tears blurring your vision. Thank god. At least he’ll never have to go back there.

”I take it that you agree with those observations?” Yeonjun gives a small smile at the relieved whimper Namjoon lets out, the wolf hybrid’s raspy yes filling the small room. Namjoon flips his hand over to grasp yours, his long fingers intertwining delicately with your own.

“Good, we’re on the same page then. The next thing we need to settle is what’s going to happen moving forward,” Yeonjun flicks over to a new page, pen hovering over the paper as he looks up at both of you. “A newly formed pack bond isn’t hard to notice when you know what to look for. I take it that you have no interest in going to the shelter?”

Namjoon brings your hand up to his chest; shaking his head as he says, “Stay with Y/n. Please.”

Yeonjun’s questioning gaze flickers over to you, and you quickly scramble out an agreement. “Namjoon can stay with me for as long as he wants,” You try your best to suppress a chuckle as Namjoon’s tail start wagging at your words, a faint blush blooming in his cheeks at the heavy thuds against the bed.

“Great!” Yeonjun smiles as he fills out his forms, “We need to do some standard background checks and we have some protocols to follow, but I don’t think there will be any issues. Just fill out this form and give it to the nurse later, and I’ll get the process started.” He places a pen and paper down on the small table near the door, giving the nurse a nod as she pokes her head in.

“We’re all done, just let me know when the form is ready,” He gives you and Namjoon a quick wave before he slips out of the door.

“Well then, I have some news too,” The nurse says. “Thankfully the operation went well, and Mr. Kim’s recovery should be fairly smooth. He’ll need to stay here for a few more days for observation as he did lose a lot of blood, but we don’t think there will be any issues,” She smiles.

“Now, since hybrids heal much faster than regular humans, we’ll have to do a few more check-ups than normal just to make sure you don’t wear the cast for too long. You’ll likely be able to remove the cast after three weeks, and then keep a brace on for a few more after that until you’re back to normal. You will be provided with a pair of crutches, but you’re stuck with bed rest for the first week to make sure you’re not putting too much pressure on your injury.” You can feel your back ache at the thought of having to spend a few weeks sleeping at the couch until you can get hold of another bed, but it’s for sure worth it if it means Namjoon will recover well.

“I think that should be all, do you have any questions?” You shake your head, a smile curling at your lips as the wolf hybrid copies your movement.

“That’s good then, I’ll leave you two be for now.” The nurse bids you both goodbye with a nod, the room falling into a sudden silence as she closes the door behind her. Namjoon flashes you a dopy smile as you turn your attention back to him. The wolf hybrid clutches your hand tightly to his chest as he shifts his upper body as close to your chair as possible, his warm brown eyes never straying from your face.

“Before I sign the papers, I just want to be sure that you’re really okay with staying with me. I promise I’ll do my best to take care of you, but Yeonjun might have some foster homes that are better suited for your recovery. My apartment is pretty small,” You grimace. You really aren’t lying when it comes to your home. Sure, you might have two bedrooms, but one of them is hardly even big enough to be a closet. It will be a tight squeeze with Namjoon while he’s injured, but you’ll manage as long as the wolf hybrid is certain.

“It’s .. okay. Want to stay .. with you,” Namjoon frowns as he works to find his words, his gaze turning a little desperate as if he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he takes too long.

“Of course. I’ll bring you home as soon as you can be discharged,” You squeeze his hand comfortingly. You can’t help but feel a little flutter of excitement at the thought of bringing him back to your apartment. “I should go fill out the form then,” You smile. Somehow, you think Namjoon will fit right in.

“Careful,” You wince as Namjoon almost stumbles into a wall, the wolf hybrid’s grip tightening around your shoulders as you try your best to hold him up. If there’s anything you’ve learned over the last couple of days in the hospital, it’s that Namjoon is stubborn. And apparently, that stubbornness is only amplified when it comes to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use the crutches?” You ask as you try to fish up your keys from your pocket, the wolf hybrid’s tired breaths spilling across your neck.

“No crutches. Only need you,” Namjoon grumbles. You blame your stuttering heartbeat on the exhaustion you feel after practically carrying Namjoon from the hospital to your car, and then from your car to your apartment complex. Thank god you have an elevator, otherwise you have no idea how you would manage to get him up to the eight floor.

You let out a sigh of relief as you get your keys out, quickly shoving them into the lock to open the door. Namjoon’s ears spring up at the sight, his tail beginning to move behind his back at the pleasant smells that hit his sensitive nose. Everything smells like you, like warmth and comfort, and there’s nothing the wolf hybrid wants to do more than add his own scent to the mix, to make sure that others know that you’re taken. He hasn’t even been able to properly scent you since the woods, and the faint touches he’s been able to leave on your skin isn’t enough.

You help Namjoon step out of his shoes, carefully leading him down the narrow hallway of your apartment. “Here’s the second bedroom,” You nod to the first door you pass, “That’s my bedroom, and the last door on the right is the bathroom. The rest is an open concept living room and kitchen, as you can see.” Namjoon’s golden eyes carefully scan over your moderately sized apartment, his nose wrinkling as he picks up a scent he hadn’t noticed near the entrance.

“Dog?” Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he tries to hobble over to the couch. It takes you a second to catch on to what he said, the image of Sana and Jihyo cuddling on your couch a week back flashing in your mind as you struggle to hold him back.

“You’re supposed to head straight to bed,” You say, curling your fingers deeper into Namjoon’s side as he tries to wriggle out of your hold. “Namjoon, please,” You plead as the strain in your back begins to throb, your body definitely not made for almost carrying a fit wolf hybrid for an extended period of time.

Namjoon stops struggling at the tired tone in your voice, and you take the low whine that falls from his lips as an apology. You catch him throwing a narrowed look at the couch as he lets you lead him to your bedroom, and you make a mental note to maybe try to air the room out before he needs to use the bathroom. You didn’t even realize Sana’s scent would linger that long, but then again, she and Jihyo had spent all day glued to your couch.

“Here we go,” You carefully lower Namjoon down on your bed, helping him get situated and comfortable before propping his leg up with a few pillows. You sink down on the edge of the bed, a frown tugging at your lips as you notice how rough and threadbare the material of his clothes are. The only clothes Namjoon have are the ones he got from the hospital, but they’re obviously far from new. You were hoping to get him more situated before leaving him alone, but there’s no way you’re going to let him use clothes that seem like they might unravel at any moment when you have the funds to get him soft and better-fitting clothes.

“Would you be okay if I head out for a bit? I need to get–” Namjoon cuts you off with a pained whine, his hand closing firmly around yours as he says, “Please don’t go.” The wolf hybrid’s silver ears are flat against his head, another distressed noise rumbling out of his chest as he tries to tug you closer on the bed.

“It’s okay, I promise I won’t leave!” You say, your heart squeezing painfully at the panicked expression on Namjoon’s face. It’s too reminiscent of how he looked when you left him out in the woods, and that’s something you never want to revisit.

“We can order you some new clothes online and get them delivered here tomorrow! I’ll stay here for as long as you need me to. Is that alright with you?” Namjoon searches your gaze for a few seconds before he seems to find what he's looking for, the tension in his shoulders lessening as he rasps out a low thank you. “It's nothing to thank me for, it’s the least I can do,” You give his hand a soft squeeze.

“I’ll go make some dinner, you need to take your pain medication soon,” You can see the doubt in the wolf hybrid’s eyes, his hold tightening ever so slightly around your hand. “How about I leave the door open? You’ll be able to see me the entire time I’m cooking,” You say. It truly breaks your heart that Namjoon is so scared that you might abandon him, but can you really blame him? His first owner was abusive, and when he finally found someone – when he found you – who he felt strongly enough about to consider his pack, you had left him.

“Yeah,” Namjoon nods, his slender fingers slowly untangling from yours. The wolf hybrid’s eyes widens as you lean closer to fluff up the pillows behind his head, his tail doing a couple of surprised thuds against the mattress at the close proximity.

“Let me know if you need anything,” You smile. You can feel Namjoon’s gaze following your every movement as you cook an easy dinner, the position of your bed giving him a vantage point of both the couch and the kitchen behind it. Normally, being watched so intently would’ve made you feel a little uncomfortable, but with Namjoon, it almost feels reassuring to know the wolf hybrid isn’t letting you out of his sight. You don’t live in a bad part of town by any means, but it gives you that little extra ounce of protection you wasn’t even aware that you were craving.

“What about this one?” You only get a non-committal sound in response, and you shake your head with an amused huff as you add the sweater to your cart. Since all of Namjoon’s focus was on his food during dinner, it seems that he now refuses to look at anything that isn’t you, so that doesn’t leave you much choice but to pick out most of his clothes on your own. You had tried to keep a little distance between your bodies on your bed to make sure you couldn’t accidentally hurt him, but the wolf hybrid had gently tugged you closer with a displeased growl, not happy until your side was flush against his. You bite down harshly on your lip as Namjoon’s rough fingertips glide over the delicate skin on your wrist, the wolf hybrid seemingly more interesting in mapping out every inch of your arm, rather than what you’re trying to show him on the screen. You end up picking out some loose clothing, something Namjoon hopefully will like after not wearing clothes for years. You can tell he’s uncomfortable in the stiff hospital clothes, especially since the outfit seems to be a size or two too small. You do a last scan over your cart, happy with the assortment of soft earth tones you’ve picked out. Namjoon doesn’t strike you as a hybrid that would wear something overtly flashy, but if that’s something he wants to later, you’ll be more than happy to update his wardrobe.

“Okay, done! It should be here by tomorrow afternoon,” Namjoon perks up as you close the laptop in your lap, the wolf hybrid’s brown eyes flickering up to meet yours. You feel your breath getting caught in your throat as you take in how softhe looks, and you find yourself reaching out to brush Namjoon’s silver hair away from his lashes before you can stop yourself. Namjoon lets out a surprised rush of air at the contact, the warmth in his eyes almost scorching as he slowly moves his gaze around your face, taking the chance to drink in every detail of it. The wolf hybrid shifts his weight, and the loud creak of your bed is enough to make you hastily pull back, cheeks flushed as you stutter out a, “I-I uh, should probably get the couch ready.”

“Couch?” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Yeah, you’re taking the bed so I need somewhere to sleep too,” You say.

“Why? Just sleep .. with me,” The wolf hybrid frowns. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it aside from sleeping, you have done it before out in the woods after all, but your stomach flutters at the words before you can reel yourself in, warmth slowly climbing up the back of your neck.

“I can’t do that Namjoon,” You mentally pat yourself on the back for how steady your voice sounds, “The woods were different. We .. we can’t do that here.” Despite feeling like you might trust Namjoon with your life if the situation ever calls for it, you don’t actually know him. The past days in the hospital have been filled with tests and interviews with Yeonjun, and so you haven’t truly had the chance to really talk to the wolf hybrid yet. You have to at least be something akin to friends before you’re comfortable sleeping next to him.

“Oh,” The disappointment in Namjoon’s voice is obvious, his expression almost turning a little shameful as his ears begin to droop. “I’m sorry,” He mutters.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? You’ve been shifted for a long time, so it’s only natural that some things are a little different between human and animal,” Namjoon nods, but there’s something in his expression that looks a little closed off now – more hesitant. “Is there anything you need before I go to bed? Anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?” The wolf hybrid shifts his gaze around your room, pink lips parting and closing as if there’s something he can’t quite make up his mind to ask for.

“Can I .. scent you?” Namjoon murmurs. One of your childhood friends had a hybrid, a sweet little cat hybrid that always used to scent you when you came over after school. You learned then that scenting helps hybrids to calm down and feel more comfortable around new people and places faster, which lessened the shock when you first met Sana all those years ago, and it’s also why there’s not an ounce of hesitation in your voice as you say, “Of course.” The wolf hybrid’s head attention snaps back to you so fast you’re almost a little worried for his neck.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, his warm eyes searching your face.

“I am. It’ll help you settle in here faster, right? So I really don’t mind,” You smile. Namjoon nods, pink lips pressed into a firm line as he gently takes a hold of your hand. He brings it up slowly to his face, a look of deep concentration in his eyes as he begins to rub his cheek against your wrist, making sure that he covers every visible inch of skin with his scent. Namjoon’s hold loosens ever so slightly, but just as you think the wolf hybrid is done, he leans down to swipe his tongue over your skin, leaving behind a more permanent scent mark. You bite down harshly on your lips, desperate to stifle the surprised sound bubbling up the back of your throat. The hybrids you had met before never did this during scenting. Namjoon’s ears begin to perk up the more his scent lingers on you, a content noise rumbling in his chest they begin to properly mix. Maybe it’s just a wolf thing, you decide. After all, he had scented you out in the woods in the same fashion before, so it's likely just something tied to his species that you weren’t familiar with. You allow Namjoon to switch out your hands, letting the wolf hybrid scent both of them to his heart’s content. He looks visibly more relaxed as he places your hand back in your lap, his tail beating against the bed in a steady rhythm.

“Better?” You ask.

“Better,” Namjoon confirms, a soft smile on his lips as he shifts back against the pillows. You take that as your cue to get ready for bed yourself, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

“Can .. door stay open?” Namjoon asks as you scoot of the bed, his eyes flickering hesitantly between you and the living room.

“It can.”

As you settle down into your freshly made couch, you can help but feel soothed at the sounds of the wolf hybrid getting comfortable in your bed. Your apartment suddenly feels a little warmer, a little more lived in, with the added noise of another person. You stare up at the dark ceiling with a smile, and the pleasant fluttering in your stomach tells you that if Namjoon decides to stay, your apartment might actually begin to feel like a home.

“Did you pick a movie?” You take a seat next to Namjoon on the couch, placing the popcorn bowl careful down between the two of you. The wolf hybrid nods at the screen, one of the newer blockbuster films already chosen and ready to be played. With his broken leg, there really isn’t much for Namjoon to do except watch movies or read, but you thankfully have a wall of books, and unlimited streaming services for him to use. The first two days of having Namjoon in your apartment were more awkward than you had expected. But then again, maybe it should have been weirder if it hadn’t, considering you had to help someone you barely know clean up and use the bathroom. It had been a learning curve to say the least; your cheeks stained a permanent pink until you managed to work out a good system. Namjoon’s new clothes had arrived quickly as well, and the wolf hybrid seemed pleased at the colours and the loose fit of the items you had chosen. You praised your own choices too; the baggy pants and slightly oversized shirts made helping him dress and undress a lot easier.

Though, there is one thing you haven’t been able to work out quite yet. Namjoon. Despite the wolf hybrid’s initial distrust of the crutches, he seems to have really taken to them now, especially once he realized that using them meant he could just trail after you himself without you having to struggle holding him up around the apartment. It is cute that Namjoon has been glued to your side ever since you arrived at your apartment, but with how he’s straining himself to hobble over to the front door every hour despite the doctor’s request of him not getting out of bed, it’s starting to worry you. The behaviour reminds you of your time spent with him the woods, and how he would constantly scout the area you travelled through for danger. You need Namjoon to relax and heal, but it’s been difficult, especially since the hybrid hasn’t said much outside of yes and no for the last four days. Before you left the hospital, the hybrid doctor you had spoken with had made it very clear that it was important to engage Namjoon in conversation, as his speech would only improve the more he used it. It’s beginning to feel more and more like you’ve just brought home a guard dog and not a person, and it makes your chest uncomfortably tight to think that Namjoon might not feel safe enough in your home to let his instincts take the back seat and just be.

You’re startled out of your thoughts as you suddenly hear a howling laughter coming from the hallway. You know it’s just some neighbours finally getting home after work, but Namjoon stiffens at the noise, ears perked in the direction of your door. It’s obvious that the wolf hybrid has the urge to protect, one hand already reaching for his crutches – so you just hope you’ve read the signs right when you hastily grab Namjoon’s hand, tugging it into your lap to cover it with your own. Namjoon freezes, his jaw clenched tightly as he slowly moves his eyes from the screen to your intertwined hands.

“Do you mind? It seems like this part is going to be a little scary,” You gesture to the action scene playing out on the TV, plastering on your best sheepish smile as you hold the wolf hybrid’s hand tighter. You feel his fingers twitch in your hold as another round of loud laughter rings out in the hallway, but to your surprise, Namjoon only takes a deep breath before he settles back against the couch. He flips your hand, easily entangling his fingers with yours as his bright eyes travel back to the screen. For what feels like the first time in four days, you can sense Namjoon finally letting his shoulders drop, his tail doing a half-hearted wag against the couch as he relaxes. The rough fingertips grazing your knuckles at random intervals keeps you distracted enough that you have no clue what the movie you just watched was really about, your hand tingling with the sensation of Namjoon’s careful touches.

As the end credits begin to roll, you turn on the couch, facing the wolf hybrid more directly as you say, “Namjoon, are you okay? You’ve just seemed a little tense and closed off these last days. I just want to make sure that I’m not doing anything that’s making you feel uncomfortable.”

“Not you, just me,” Namjoon rasps, his lips pressing into a firm line, “Don’t want to be .. too much.”

“Too much?” You frown.

“Old owner wanted me to be quiet. No scenting .. Said it wasn’t natural,” Namjoon’s ears fall flat against his head. “Couldn’t help it, was too young. So owner punished me.” The wolf hybrid’s eyes briefly flicker up to meet yours, the usual warmth hardened and cold and sad as he lowers his head as says, “Sorry. You can punish too.”

“Namjoon,” You whisper, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. You can feel your chest crack, eyes growing blurry as you think of a younger Namjoon. You know that all hybrids need psychical contact to stay happy and healthy, and that it’s especially important for younger hybrids to make sure that they learn about their instincts and needs. Your childhood friend’s hybrid was never denied pets or cuddles, the cat hybrid practically always glued to someone’s side because anything else would’ve been inhumane. The fact that Namjoon was abused for wanting something as harmless as a hug, or a scratch behind his ears makes you want to bring his owner back to life just so that you can make sure he receives the proper punishment for his crimes. Death seems too easy of a way out of the horrible things he did.

“I will never do that to you. You never have to worry about being too much of anything. Wanting someone to talk to and touch is completely natural,” You hesitantly bring a hand up to cup Namjoon’s cheek, lifting his head enough to meet his gaze. Your fear of Namjoon not wanting your touch flies out the window the moment the wolf hybrid leans his whole head into your palm, nuzzling his cheek against your hand as the bushy tail behind his back picks up speed at the contact. It dawns on you then, that after the first night he scented you, Namjoon had withdrawn completely. Him following you around and checking the door was probably the best thing he could to do to feel close to you while still keeping his distance – because that was what he had been forced to adapt to. You softly clear your throat, keeping your voice as level as possible as you give him a gentle smile and say, “If there’s something you want, you just have to ask. I promise I’ll do my best to make it happen for you.”

Namjoon angles his head in your palm, soft lips brushing over your wrist as he murmurs a quiet thank you into your skin. “Can I … ask you something else?” You can’t help the way your heart flips as Namjoon tries to follow the hand you remove from his cheek, the wolf hybrid letting out a perturbed whine.

“Sure,” He rasps, clutching your intertwined fingers tighter to make sure you won’t remove them too.

“How did you get caught in the trap?” You wince as your eyes drift to Namjoon’s cast. Jihyo had made some calls while you were with Namjoon in the hospital, and it had turned out that the old owners of the cabin had left out multiple bear traps many years ago. It had been so long that they had forgotten they were even there. You're honestly surprised that the trap still worked considering how rusted and old it had looked clamped around Namjoon’s leg, but then again the wolf hybrid is big when’s he’s shifted. Not the same as a full-grown bear of course, but his weight was obviously enough to set it off.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Namjoon says. The dejected look on his face feels like someone has punched you straight in your stomach as he mutters, “Was distracted. Sad.” Because of you. ”Was going to leave when the trap stopped me,” Namjoon frowns. That explains why it took so long to find him, and why he had moved so far from where you first met him. If it hadn’t been for the trap, you likely never would’ve seen Namjoon again.

The wolf hybrid’s face is pinched as he tries to formulate the sentence in his head, the words a little jumbled but clear enough that you understand what he’s trying to say, ”Trap hurt, but you came back. So pain is okay.” For all the things you want to say, the only thing that comes out is just a saddened, “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head. The wolf hybrid’s golden brown eyes are warmwarmwarm, his voice dripping with honeyed content as he says, “Found you, so everything’s okay now. Found my pack.” Your body moves on instinct as you shift closer, untangling your hand from Namjoon’s to gently wrap them around his shoulders. The position is a little awkward, but you couldn’t care less about the weird twist in your lower back as the wolf hybrid collapses into your embrace with a low whine, his face tucked securely into your neck. The soft fur of Namjoon's ears brush against your chin as he inhales your scent, a shaky breath escaping his lips as your calming scent washes over him. He doesn’t scent you like you expected him to; instead, he just seems happy to be this close to you, his breath spilling across your neck as he tries to press himself even closer.

“Yeah,” You breathe. It seems you both have.

It’s almost too easy to grow attached to Namjoon. The last two weeks since you brought Namjoon home has passed without a hitch, the wolf hybrid finally having settled properly into your apartment. His speech has improved drastically since you talked that night, and he’s been doing better and better for each day as he makes an effort to ask about your life, or your work. With the way Namjoon’s face lit up at the mention of your profession, it felt like another puzzle piece was falling snuggly into place. You’ve never had someone be so interested and intrigued by your writing before, but then again, you’ve never met someone who devours books in the same way that Namjoon does either. The wolf hybrid breezes through a book in only a couple of days, and the sound of paper being turned alongside with Namjoon’s low grumbles as he finds something interesting has become your new white noise as you work. You were certain you wouldn’t be able to write with someone else in the apartment, let alone the same room, but Namjoon blends so seamlessly into your life that it’s far from an issue.

But, with attachment, also comes fear. You call Jihyo on your way to the grocery store, your mind busy and your heart even heavier as you make your way through the spring rain. Like the sky, you pour out all of the insecurities and worries you’ve kept bottled up, Jihyo only spurring your rambling on with a few encouraging noises.

“I’m scared,” You admit. “Is it weird how fast we’re moving? The more I get to know him the more it feels like he was always supposed to be there.” Jihyo lets out a low hum as she thinks.

“I don’t think so Y/n. Sometimes you just find people you click with, there’s nothing wrong with that. And it’s not like you’ve only been hanging out for an hour every now and then, you’ve been living together for two weeks. It’s understandable that you would grow close a little quicker than normal.”

“But that’s not all, is it?” Jihyo adds, as you keep silent.

“No .. I just don’t want him to regret anything. I’m the first nice human he’s seen in years, I’m just scared that his affection is a little misplaced,” You grimace.

“That may be, but Namjoon is still capable of making his own choices. The people at the hospital treated him nicely, and you don’t see him rushing to come home with them.” You can hear Jihyo’s teasing smile through the phone.

“I guess,” You mutter. Despite his initial hostility toward the staff, Namjoon had opened up after the first day there. He had stopped growling and trying to bite the doctors' hands off, and he had even offered the kind woman that checked upon him the most a sweet smile after she had brought him his dinner.

“There’s no guarantees in life Y/n. You don’t know if Namjoon will change his mind in a week, or a month or a year. But I do know that you would respect his wishes and let him go if it ever comes down to that. I think Namjoon knows that too, and that’s why he’s not afraid to open up to you. Because you genuinely care about him,” Jihyo voice is soft through the phone. “You have no guarantees, but some things are worth the risk.” You didn’t even have to think twice to know that Namjoon was worth it. You already knew.

You briefly glance up from your computer as a steaming mug is placed next to it, the wolf hybrid giving you a dimpled smile before he hobbles back to the couch. You raise the cup to your mouth; a relieved sigh leaving your lips as you inhale the strong aroma of the coffee Jihyo gifted you last month. You hold back a groan as you take your first sip, the strain in your eyes already feeling a little more bearable due to the hybrid’s sweet actions.

Namjoon does this a lot, you’ve come to realize. Even with his injury, the wolf hybrid tries his best to do little things for you. It’s everything from bringing you coffee when your energy starts running out, to organizing your scattered notes, to tearing you away from your unfinished chapters when the words just won’t flow anymore. Your cheeks are honestly starting to ache from the smile that seems to be constantly tugging at your lips. You take another sip of the hot beverage, nearly choking on the burning liquid as you notice the two new emails in your inbox. You open the hospital email first, the standardized note doing little to calm your nerves as you skim through the reminder of Namjoon’s appointment next week. You know the wolf hybrid is itching to get the heavy cast off in exchange for a lighter brace, so he’ll be happy to know that his leg is healing as it should be.

You push through the light tremor in your hands as you go to the next email, Yeonjun’s name creating a flurry of nerves to erupt in your stomach. You haven’t formally adopted Namjoon yet. The papers you signed were for a temporary stay while the shelter did more extensive research into your funds and background, so the notice you’ve been waiting for since you left the hospital is finally here. You’ll finally know if you've passed their tests or not. You hastily click the message before you can talk yourself out of it, your eyes scanning frantically over the page until you find the section you were looking for. You slump back in your chair, eyes growing wide as you read the same sentence over and over. You’re eligible to adopt Namjoon if he wants to stay with you.

“Hey Namjoon,” You grin. The gray ears on Namjoon’s head perk up at the sound of his name, the wolf hybrid’s bright questioning eyes meeting yours as you say, “How do you feel about steak tonight?”

“Smells good,” You swear you almost have a heart attack as Namjoon sneaks up behind you, the wolf hybrid sniffing the cooking meat over your shoulder. You have no idea how he manages to be this quiet with crutches.

“Good! They should be done in a few minutes,” You say as you flip the steaks over, turning down the heat to make sure they don’t get burned. You can feel the heat from Namjoon’s body lingering behind you, the wolf hybrid still rooted in place. You bite back a surprised squeal as Namjoon’s arm wraps around your waist, tugging you back a small step so that he can hook his chin over your shoulder.

“Is this okay?” You stiffen as Namjoon’s husky voice brushes against your ear, a shiver running down your spine at the close proximity. You’re no stranger to hugging or holding hands after living with Namjoon for two weeks, but this feels more .. intimate. Different.

“Of course,” You say. You suck your lower lip between your teeth as Namjoon’s fingers spray across your waist, the firm grip making your head spin as he begins to rub his cheek along your shoulder. Oh, you realize. He’s scenting you. So far Namjoon has only scented your wrists, and you understand now why he decided to limit himself to that, because this – this just feels like so much more. The wolf hybrid lets out a pleased huff as he moves to nose along your throat, his soft hair tickling your neck as he does his best to cover your scent with his own.

You can feel your eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touches, your head tilting to the side to allow Namjoon more access to your skin. You feel the rumble in Namjoon’s chest before you hear it, and it quickly dawns on you that you have once again barred your neck to the alpha, submitted, as teeth begin to nip at your sensitive throat. You clutch the spatula in your hand like it’s a lifeline, trying your best to focus on how the metal is digging into your skin rather than how Namjoon’s fingers have started trailing up and down your waist, leaving fires in their wake. You’re doing good, you think. Just don’t think about it. It’s natural, it’s okay–

Your eyes fly open as Namjoon’s tongue drags over the gentle bite marks on your skin, a choked whine escaping your throat. The wolf hybrid stills against your neck, lips resting against your throat as his tail wags furiously behind his back. You can’t tell whether it’s Namjoon’s or your own heart that’s beating so harshly against your ribcage, the wolf hybrid’s naturally woodsy smell making you feel lightheaded at how tightly it’s wrapped around you. You both stand frozen in place, embarrassment beginning to creep up your chest as Namjoon rubs his cheek against your shoulder one last time, his voice deep and raspy as he says, “You smell good.” You offer him a dazed nod, not trusting you voice. Your eyes stay locked on the slightly charred vegetables as the wolf hybrid pulls away. You can hear him clearly now, how he slowly moves his way back to the couch. You let out shuddering breath once you deem him far enough away, forcing your knees to stop shaking and the butterflies in your stomach to calm down as you finish preparing dinner.

“I have something to ask you,” You say. You figure you might as well bite the bullet considering you’ve only been pushing your food around for the last five minutes. Namjoon gives you an encouraging smile around the food in his mouth, his ears perked and attentive.

“I heard back from the shelter today,” You pause as Namjoon’s eyes widen, his jaw working furiously to get rid of the large piece of steak in his mouth. You stifle a snort, resting your chin in your palm as you wait for him to finish.

“Go on,” Namjoon swallows harshly. “Yeonjun told me that everything checks out. My income and credentials are good enough to officially adopt you,” You say. “That is, if you want me to?” You hastily add, a sliver of fear rushing through your veins as the wolf hybrid’s face becomes hard to read.

“Do you?” Namjoon asks.

“Want to adopt you? Yes. I know I might not have the most space to offer you, but there’s nothing I’d love more.” The thought of Namjoon leaving you makes your chest feel hollow and tight, but at the end of the day, it’s the wolf hybrid’s decision. Namjoon regards you silently for a few more seconds, his brown eyes searching your face one last time before his own crumbles with relief.

“Then adopt me. Please,” He rasps, “This is more than enough, I just want to stay with you.” You can’t hold back the smile that blooms on your face, a matching grin tugging at Namjoon’s lips as you say, “Deal.”

It isn’t until later, when you go to bring out your sheets from your closet that Namjoon stops you. The wolf hybrid is resting on the foot of your bed, his fingers loosely clasped around your wrist as he says, “Stay.”

He clears his throat at the confused look in your eyes, his ears shifting nervously as he nods to the bed. “I know your back hurts from sleeping on the couch, and I promise I’ll keep to myself. Just .. sleep here with me?” You cast an uncertain glance at your bed, trying to calculate just how much space there will be between the two of you. Your back is sore, and the long hours working at your desk don’t exactly make it better. You have ordered a new bed for the extra bedroom, but that has yet to arrive. You probably should’ve realized the website was a little shady considering just how good of a deal the bed was. You sigh.

“I’ll stay.” You’re tired of feeling like you’re seventy years old when you wake up, and your back really needs some proper rest. You help Namjoon manoeuvre under the covers before you get yourself ready for bed. It feels weird slipping into it with Namjoon already there, the wolf hybrid giving you an amused grin at the groan that escapes when your back hits the soft mattress. You can feel the tenseness in your muscles melting away as you drag the duvet up to your nose, your hand blindly reaching for the bedside lamp until the room is plunged into darkness.

“Good night,” You whisper.

“Sweet dreams Y/n.” The warmth and security of Namjoon’s body being so close to yours drags you under before you know it, and truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well.

You huff as you drag the heavy laundry basket from the spare bedroom. The new bed you ordered has been sitting inside the room for a week, but it has yet to be used. You and Namjoon came to a silent agreement to just forget that it’s even there. As you drag the basket into the living room, you find your gaze automatically drifting to the wolf hybrid. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch Namjoon lean against the balcony, the wolf hybrid bathed in golden light as the sun begins to set. Namjoon turns slightly, his ears picking up a sound you can’t hear from inside the apartment. The wolf hybrid’s eyes flutter as a soft gust of wind ruffles his hair, his tail wagging slowly at the fresh air. Still, you know it’s not enough. It’s the faint frown on Namjoon’s face that fuels your guilt, because despite his reassurances that this is all he needs, you know it’s a lie. He’s a wolf hybrid. He needs more space, he needs fresher air, and he needs the forest. He’s not made to live in an apartment in the middle of a bustling city, and especially not after living by himself for years out in the wilderness. This may be all he needs, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t happy.

Now that the weather has begun to grow warmer, Namjoon has started spending more and more time on your balcony. It’s been five weeks since the accident, so the bulky cast on his leg is switched out for a lighter brace, but his leg still isn’t strong enough to actually go for a walk outside. You think you both have started to go a little stir-crazy after hardly leaving the apartment for so long, but thankfully the doctor let you know at the last check-up that he can likely remove the brace and start using his leg slowly from next week. Yet, the parks around your area can’t compare in the slightest to the woods around Jihyo’s cabin. Namjoon is his own person, but with the papers you signed last week, he’s now also partially your responsibility. And you just want to do what’s best for the both of you.

You shake your head, huffing out a low curse as you bring the laundry to washing machine inside your bathroom. You chew mindlessly on your lip as you think, getting a little lost in your own thoughts as you watch the clothes being tossed around inside the machine. The soft flesh is almost bitten raw as you come to a conclusion. You don’t need the city in the same way that the wolf hybrid needs the forest. In all honestly, you’re starting to grow a little sick of the constant noise. The only thing you need is good Wi-Fi and well .. Namjoon. You close the bathroom door behind you with a firm snap, the guilt in your stomach slowly turning into excitement as you watch Namjoon push away from the balcony and make his way inside. You think you know how to fix this.

Namjoon lets out a strained huff as he shifts on the couch. You can feel your concentration slipping further with each movement, the words in front of you bleeding together as you lose your place for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. You know the wolf hybrid is anxious to get the brace off, but he literally only has to hold on for twelve more hours until it’s time for his appointment. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he keeps his book in his lap, his neck bent at an awkward angle as he tries to continue reading it. The wolf hybrid’s chest is falling and rising a little heavier than normal, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he keeps squirming, his gold tinted eyes nearly burning through the pages with the intensity in his gaze. You place your book down on the couch with a sigh.

“Namjoon,” You can feel your heart still in your chest as the wolf hybrid’s dark eyes

immediately fly up to find yours, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he has around the bound pages. “You know it’ll be easier to read your book if you– Oh,” Your mouth runs dry. You had snatched the book out of Namjoon’s hand to bring it up higher, but it didn’t quite cross your mind that maybe it had been placed there .. strategically. Namjoon is big, and the thick bulge straining against the gray fabric of his sweatpants leaves absolutely nothing to your imagination.

Your forcibly tear your eyes away, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you hastily flip the book around to get a proper look at the cover. It appears that Namjoon must’ve found the books you had stashed away in the other bedroom, those that are just tastefully decorated porn. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Namjoon’s voice is caught between a growl and a whine, the sound strangled and unsure as he reaches for his crutches, “I’ll just uh, go take a cold shower.”

“Do you want me to help?” You snap your mouth shut, horrified at the words that just bypassed your filter. The crutches scatter to the floor as the wolf hybrid turns back to face you, his voice breathless as he says, “What?”

You carefully place Namjoon’s book down on the couch, unsure if you should take the out he inadvertently just gave you. You know this is going into territory beyond just friends or roommates, but then again, your relationship is already a little too intimate to just call it that. But, you still don’t know if that’s because Namjoon has been depraved of human touch for so long that he’s trying to catch up to everything he missed out on, or because he actually likes you. You’ve already accepted your growing feelings for Namjoon, but you’re not sure this is a risk you’re willing to take. You should probably pretend that this never happened. You jump as Namjoon gently tilts your head up, his golden eyes dark as he says, “Y/n, what did you ask me?”

Or maybe, for once in your life, you should take a risk. The wolf hybrid’s gaze follows your throat as you swallow dryly, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you softly repeat, ”Do you want me to help?” The low growl that spills from Namjoon’s mouth makes your thighs clench.

“Fuck,” Namjoon curses, the dark look in his eyes growing wilder as he rasps out a strained, “Please.” Your knees hit the floor before you can even think about it, and another low growl rumbles in Namjoon’s chest as you look up at him.

“Your leg,” You eye the awkward way Namjoon has twisted himself, the wolf hybrid letting out an impatient huff as you wait for him to settle down properly on the couch. You slowly trail your fingers up his good leg once he’s situated, the injured one resting on the coffee table behind your back. You shuffle forward until you’re properly kneeling between Namjoon’s outstretched thighs, your hands resting on the firm muscles.

You keep your eyes locked on the wolf hybrid as you ease your hands up under his baggy shirt. You suck in a breath as you feel the taut and defined abs underneath your fingertips, the muscles jumping as you explore Namjoon’s body. You knew that the wolf hybrid was in good shape after being so active for many years, but the extra food and proper nutrition he’s been getting ever since you brought him home has really filled him out in the right places. You push Namjoon’s shirt up as your fingers trail higher, the firm skin making you bite back a moan. Namjoon is absolutely ripped. Goosebumps rise on Namjoon’s skin as he lets your hands slide across his stomach, the heavy breaths falling from his lips hitching as they glide down down down until your fingers are hooked into the waistband of his sweats. His hips rise off the couch enough to help you pull them off, and the wolf hybrid hastily works his good leg out of the material to give you more room. Namjoon’s hard cock is straining against his boxers, a patch of pre-cum already seeping through the material.

”Fuck, you’re big,” You breathe, biting down harshly on your lips as the wolf hybrid’s cock twitches at your words. Namjoon lets out a raspy whine as you press soft kisses to the inside of his thighs, not stopping until you reach the dark fabric clinging to his hips.

”Is this still okay?” You check, your cunt clenching around nothing as you look up to see how just wrecked Namjoon already looks. The wolf hybrid’s pupils are blown wide, and the veins in his arms look like they’re ready to pop out of his skin from how tightly he’s gripping onto the couch. Namjoon barely manages to nod before he throws his head back with a moan, your hot breath spilling across his skin as you lean down to mouth at his clothed cock. You lick against the already damp material, your nose trailing along the thick length. It doesn’t take long before Namjoon’s chest rumbles, his voice low and deep as he says, ”Y/n, no teasing.”

A shot of arousal travels down your spine at the wolf hybrid’s dominating tone, and you waste no time pulling his boxers down his legs, Namjoon quickly stepping out of it like he did with his sweats. Your nails dig lightly into the wolf hybrid’s thighs as you take in the sight of his cock, the thick and long length making your eyes widen. Namjoon is so big you can’t even properly close your fist around him, his shaft already glistening with pre-cum. You quickly rub your thumb across his slit as another drop forms, using it to coat the rest of his length as you lean in closer, just enough to press feather light kisses to the head of it. The wolf hybrid gasps at the contact, and you peak up to find his eyes shut tight, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he strains to hold himself back from touching you, tail wagging wildly behind his back. You press another kiss to the pinkish head of his cock, the pressure a little firmer as you open your mouth enough to take him in, swirling your tongue around the tip.

”Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon moans. His thighs clenches at the wet hotness around his cock, fingers twitching by his side as he digs them into the couch cushions. You begin to push down further on his length, trying your best to relax your throat as you slowly bob your head on Namjoon’s cock, hand stroking the rest of it to match the rhythm of your mouth. You moan as you feel the heavy weight of the wolf hybrid’s cock resting on your tongue, the slightly salty taste only spurring you on further as you tighten your lips around him. You slide your free hand up his thigh, grasping his tense fingers to bring them to your hair. You can tell Namjoon was itching to touch by the way he immediately gathers your soft locks between his fingers, curling them until he has a nice grip behind your head.

”Baby,” You look up just in time to meet Namjoon’s hooded gaze, a whine pressing up your throat at the desperate hunger in his eyes. The vibrations makes the wolf hybrid’s hips jerk, the sudden motion making you choke as his cock brushes against the back of your throat. The grip in your hair tightens as Namjoon tries to pull your back, but the apology dies on his lips as you deliberately swallow him down even further, refusing to let him tug you off.

“Look at you,” The wolf hybrid groans, ”You were made for this, weren’t you baby?” You can only hum in response, Namjoon’s words making your cunt throb with need as you futilely try to rub your thighs together to create some friction. The wolf hybrid’s hand follows the movements of your head as you up your pace, your lips coming down to touch the fingers wrapped around his base as you take him in faster. Your name rolls of Namjoon’s tongue like a prayer as he watches you swallow down his cock, his abs clenching as you don’t let up on the speed.

”Fuck, your mouth looks so pretty stuffed full of my cock,” Namjoon growls. Trying to not choke on the stiff length in your mouth has distracted you enough that you don’t notice the weight forming underneath your fingers until you’re staring down at a fully formed knot. You don’t have much time to think about it before you feel Namjoon’s grip in your hair tighten, his chest rumbling as he helps you swallow down another inch of his cock. You’re almost at the base, almost touching his knot with only a couple of fingers between the taut skin and your lips.

“I– shit, I'm not going to last.” Tears spring to your eyes as you hum around the wolf hybrid’s length, the vibrations making Namjoon’s breaths turn harsher, louder, as your determination grows. You can feel Namjoon’s impending orgasm before he even manages to stutter out a broken warning, the grip in your hair bordering on painful as you suck harder, your tongue dragging along his length one last time before you feel the knot under your fingers begin to throb.

”Oh, fuck– Baby,” You cling to Namjoon’s toned thighs, nails digging into his skin as you feel the first burst of cum hit your throat. The wolf hybrid’s hard cock pulses as he lets out a loud moan, the tail behind his back stilling as he releases his load. You whimper as you feel spurt after spurt trail down your throat, breathing becoming more and more difficult until you’re forced to pull back to swallow it down easier. You gently bob your head, hand once again stroking Namjoon’s length as you coax him through his orgasm.

“Y/n,” Namjoon whines, his legs beginning to tremble from overstimulation as you swipe your tongue one last time over the head of his cock, swallowing down the last of the salty substance lingering in your mouth. You can feel the wetness between your own legs as you pull back to press a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s knee, the wolf hybrid loosening the grip he has on your hair to gently massage his fingers into your scalp. A blowjob has never left you so turned on before, but as Namjoon’s gentle touches against the dull stinging in your scalp continues, the throbbing between your legs is forced to take a backseat as your heart overflows with fondness at how he always finds a way to take care of you too.

You glance up to find Namjoon’s warm eyes already looking at you, the hunger in them still there. ”Let me return the favour,” Namjoon rasps as the hand in your hair glides down over your shoulders, all the way down to the hand resting on his leg. You want it so bad, but– ”Later,” You wince at the hoarseness in your throat, gently patting Namjoon’s injured leg as you say, “Let’s save it for later when your leg has healed.”

”Hmm, you better baby,” The air gets knocked out of your lungs at the smirk Namjoon gives you, the points of his canines just poking out over his lips as he leans back to catch his breath. You take the moment to marvel at the golden skin under your hands, at how Namjoon’s muscles dance underneath your fingertips. Baby. It makes your head swim in the best way. You grin as you trail a finger over the wolf hybrid’s softening cock, Namjoon’s good leg kicking out in protest as you touch the sensitive skin. He’s still dripping, the knot at the base of his cock almost gone. You push up from your knees with a soft groan, but Namjoon catches your hand before you can leave, his gray ears pulling back.

”Where are you going?” The worry in his handsome feature is obvious, and you reach out to smooth the furrow between his brows.

”I’m just going to get a towel to get you cleaned up,” You smile. You can tell the wolf hybrid is still reluctant to let you go, but he eventually relents, squeezing your fingers before he releases it.

You almost grimace at your own reflection as you run the towel under the lukewarm water. You look absolutely wrecked.Your hair is a mess, and you quickly splash some water on your face to attempt to make yourself look a little more presentable. Namjoon cleans himself up quickly as you go to grab something to soothe the rasp in your throat, the wolf hybrid readjusting his sweats around his hips as you settle down next to him.

”Namjoon–” Your breath hitches as he suddenly leans in, the wolf hybrid’s hand reaching up to cup your cheek as he places soft pecks against your lips. You melt into his touch, eagerly moving your mouth against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers curling into the long hair at his nape. A pleased rumble sounds from Namjoon’s chest as you open you lips enough for his tongue to meet yours. You allow yourself to drown in Namjoon – the gentle touch on your cheek and the passionate kisses pulling you under until your mind grows hazy, your lungs screaming for air when you finally break away from his lips.

The wolf hybrid wastes no time moving his lips down your jaw, pressing gentle pecks against your skin all the way down to your neck. Namjoon’s tail wags steadily behind his back as he inhales your scent, the soft kisses turning into nips and licks as he marks your throat. You try your best to get your ragged breath under control as Namjoon takes his time scenting your neck. The wolf hybrid presses a kiss just below your ear; his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he murmurs out a fond, “I like you so much.”

”What?” You squeak, your eyes growing wide as you tug Namjoon back. Even if this is what you’ve been dying to hear, you can’t help but feel a little anxious. Anxious that this might be a mistake, that Namjoon’s affection might be a little misplaced, but still– ”I like you,” He repeats, the confidence in his voice wavering as he says, ”I don’t want this to just be a one time thing. I want this – us – to be more.”

You find yourself nodding along to Namjoon’s words before he’s even finished, a shy grin blooming on your face as you say, ”Me too. I like you too, so much.” Namjoon’s face lights up like the sun at your confession, his ears perked and his tail moving so quickly behind his back you can’t even keep track of it. The pure adoration you find in the wolf hybrid’s eyes make you flush, but Jihyo’s words keep you from pulling away. You have no guarantees that this will work out, but you know that you would be a fool if you don’t even try.

”Good,” Namjoon grins. You card your fingers through Namjoon’s silver locks, just high enough to scratch gently behind one of the wolf hybrid’s ears. Namjoon turns into putty in your hands, his head slumping against your shoulder to allow you easier access to his ears as he lets out a pleased noise. You let out a small giggle, brushing your lips against his cheek as you whisper, ”Good.”

“So ..” You extend your arm behind you, watching Namjoon intently as you say, ”What do you think?” The wolf hybrid’s head tilts as he takes in his surroundings, his gray ears twitching as he tries to pinpoint where all the different sounds are coming from. You’re standing in front of a quaint little cottage in the woods, about an hour drive away from the city and your current apartment. You had fallen head over heels for the property the moment you first saw it, the beautiful stone and wood building screaming your name as you had clicked through the photos. It does need a little TLC, but it’s nothing you and Namjoon can’t fix. The cottage looks like a dream with the lush trees and colourful flowers encasing it, and you can’t help but think that this is the home you’ve been waiting for. The wolf hybrid’s face is unreadable as his golden eyes scan the area, but you notice that his tail twitches, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from getting excited.

“What’s this?” Namjoon strides around the car with ease, no trace of his injury left as he intertwines your fingers with his.

“Well, it’s ours. If you want it,” You bite down on your lip in anticipation as surprise flickers across Namjoon’s face, the wolf hybrid quickly moving his gaze back to the cottage, and the dense woods behind it. “I do,” Namjoon breathes, a brilliant smile settling on his face, “It’s perfect.”

“Oh thank god,” You sigh dramatically, collapsing against the wolf hybrid’s side as he rolls his eyes. He quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you close enough to nose against your neck.

”But are you sure you want to leave the city?” Namjoon says, his tone a little worried at the prospect of you leaving everything you have behind.

You circle your arms around the wolf hybrid’s waist, shifting your position enough to allow you to look up at Namjoon’s face as you say, ”I can write anywhere. The only thing that I need is you,” You rise slightly off the ground, just enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ”And good Wi-Fi,” You add with a grin.

Namjoon snorts as he dips his head down to fit his lips properly against yours, the kiss lazy and sweet as the early summer breeze ruffles your hair. The last four months have thrown you for a loop you never could have expected, but as you stand here with Namjoon, you realize that maybe that’s the beauty of it all. Life might be uncertain, but what isn’t, is that you love Namjoon, and Namjoon loves you back. And that’s all you need to know.

a/n: it took some time but out of the woods is finally finished! i really hope you enjoyed wolf!namjoon’s solo story, he’s really just a big babie and he deserves the best. :( if you liked the story then please drop me a reblog/comment, that would mean the world to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! <3 and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 i would really appreciate the support!

#hybrid bts #hybrid namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #namjoon smut #hybrid!bts #bts au #bts fluff #bts smut #hybrid au #hybridbtsnetwork #out of the woods

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mtap-comics · 2 years ago

Text

Here comes the next fill in for my Bad Things Happen Bingo Card:

Fandom: My time at Portia

Pairing: Arlo x Female Builder

Summary: Elenya's day got off to a bad start, but then revealed a wonderful, albeit surprising, twist for her.

Word count: 4972

Prompt: Vertigo

Author's note: I apologize for the long wait, but I was attacked by the mean monster called Writers Block and couldn't get a decent sentence out for a while.

Warnings: Vomiting (It's not graphic, but it's there), you may get cavities again

Read on AO3: Link

How To Not Deal With Dizzy Spells - A Demonstration

On a warm spring day, Arlo sat on one of the benches in their front yard, admiring once again what his wonderful wife had done with the once small and rusty workshop from her pa. It’s been 3 years since Elenya arrived in Portia and life has been so much better since then. His life was so much better. He still didn't know how he was lucky enough to be able to marry this wonderful human being.

With a gentle smile on his lips, he let his gaze wander over the garden. Over the flower beds, arbours, and the little merry-go-round that Elenya insisted on. He found it a bit unnecessary at first, but just hearing the happy laughter from her was worth dragging it into their garden. What he liked most, though, was the big fountain, which was right in front of him. The splashing of the water had a calming effect and emitted a pleasant atmosphere.

But his relaxed mood was clouded by concern for his little builder. Elenya had not been feeling well in the last few days. She slept much more, had no desire to eat, and moved much more sluggishly than usual. Just yesterday she had bumped into a door frame, and although she was clumsy, she was not that extreme. He suspected she was having dizzy spells and just didn't want to tell him.

Arlo tried to get her to rest more, to take it easy for a few days, but just as he knew, she kept working because she didn't want to let anyone in town down. And while he loved her for her kindness, he wished she would take a little better care of herself sometimes.

Even today, she couldn't quite stop working. She had agreed to take a day off with him and enjoy the warm weather, but she still wanted to take care of her plants. Right now she was removing weeds from the apple and apricot trees that stood right next to the fence.

Concerned, his eyes kept wandering to her, but didn't try to linger too long. She didn't like it when he was hovering too much, but it was hard to suppress his protective nature. He tried to distract himself with the thought of what else they could do today.

Maybe he should prepare a nice picnic? She would surely like that and maybe she could relax for once.

Arlo was about to turn to Elenya to tell her about his plan, when a distressed "Woah" sounded from her. He immediately jumped up, but he wasn't fast enough. Horrified, he had to watch her sway in place before her right leg buckled and she fell limply to the ground.

He immediately knelt down next to her. Elenya was lying motionless on her side and carefully, he turned her onto her back. His gaze fell directly on the wound on her forehead, blood running down her face and his eyes darted briefly to the planter box in front of him, finding a matching patch of blood on it.

Damn! He knew he shouldn't have let her out of his sight.

Worried, he patted her cheek lightly. "Elenya, sweetheart, can you hear me? Please, open your eyes..."

At first she didn't respond and fear started to eat through him, but then a pained groan escaped her and green flashed from under her eyelids.

Relief washed over him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Fuck, why did her head hurt so much? And why was she lying on the floor?

Dazed, Elenya opened her eyes and blurry she could make out a head above her. It took a moment, but when her vision cleared, she was met by worried blue eyes.

"Wha...?" She tried to ask what had happened, but her tongue wouldn't quite cooperate. Thankfully, Arlo understood her the same anyway.

"You fainted and hit your head on the planter box. Please, tell me what's been going on lately. I'm so worried about you, darling." His eyes swam with concern.

She fainted? That had never happened to her before…

Through the headache, Elenya tried to remember what had happened moments before, and slowly the memories came flooding back. She had been kneeling in front of one of her apple trees, clearing the weeds, and just wanted to stretch her back out a bit. But as soon as she stood and raised her arms above her head, her circulation completely collapsed and her vision went black.

This had happened to her several times in the last few days, but she had never fainted. Usually she got dizzy for a short time, and then it passed again. She knew that Arlo had noticed that she was not doing so well and was worried, but she had still tried not to let anything show. Obviously, she couldn't do that any more.

"I'm sorry, Arlo… I always black out for a second lately when I get up too fast, but it's never been this bad." Apologetically, she looked up at him and his expression darkened with even more concern. "Can I finally take you to see Dr. Xu now? You're not feeling well and we need to find out why."

His right hand gently rested against her left cheek and surrendering, she nuzzled into his warm palm. “Yeah, I will go.” By now, she was also worried about what was wrong with her.

"Thank you, sweetheart. Do you think you can sit up?" "Yeah, I think so." She propped herself up on her elbows and carefully raised herself up, but that turned out to be a serious mistake. Immediately a sharp pain shot through her head and she felt terribly dizzy. With a painful groan, she let herself fall backwards again.

"Elenya!" Horrified, Arlo just managed to catch her head before it collided with the floor again, and tried to capture her gaze. It took a moment for the pain to subside enough for her to think again, and another groan escaped her. "God, my head ..."

"Let me see." Gently, he turned her head to the left to get a better look at her wound and drew in a sharp breath. "Damn, that looks worse than I first thought. I hope you don't have a concussion. Please lie still and I'll quickly get something so we can bandage your head. It's still bleeding really bad." He stroked through her hair once soothingly and then quickly disappeared into the house.

Exhausted, Elenya closed her eyes. Nausea had joined the headache and she feared that a concussion wasn’t unlikely. Time blurred before her and it felt like just a second had passed when Arlo returned.

A gentle touch on her cheek made her open her eyes again, pain clear in them and soft blue eyes looked down at her compassionately. "Hey, I'll just quickly bandage your head then we'll take you to Dr. Xu. He can give you something for the pain, okay?" His voice was soft, for which she was very grateful, as it didn't aggravate her headache.

"Okay." Arlo worked as carefully as he could, however, every little movement stabbed like knives into her head and she couldn't suppress every whimper. "I'm sorry, honey. I'll be done in a minute." Gently, he quickly wiped the blood from her face and then put the bandages back in the first aid kit.

"I'll just get Spacer and we can be on our way. Please try to stay awake for me, okay?" Full of concern, Arlo looked down at her. Her brain was getting foggy and she was struggling to follow what he was saying.

"Okay." Elenya wasn't quite sure what she was agreeing to, but she trusted Arlo. He would never do anything to hurt her.

The next 20 minutes passed in a blur. The only thing she was aware of was pain, nausea and Arlo. Arlo's warm chest against her back, his strong arm around her waist and his warm voice whispering soothing words in her ear again and again.

The next thing Elenya really noticed was when they stopped in front of the clinic and Arlo carefully lifted her off Spacer. Once she was safely in his arms, she buried her head in his neck with a soft whimper. The light of the midday sun had been piercing her head like nails the whole time and she wanted nothing more than to escape the pain.

"Shh, it's all right, sweetie. You'll feel better in a minute." Arlo squeezed her tighter for a moment and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, then walked with careful steps towards the clinic.

With a well-aimed kick, he opened the door and she couldn't suppress a small smile despite the pain, as she could still remember her first encounter with Arlo as if it had been yesterday. That she would eventually marry the handsome door-kicking man was definitely something she would never have dreamt of back then, but she wouldn't give him up again for anything in the world.

A startled exclamation told her that Dr. Xu hadn't expected anyone to kick down his door, but he seemed to regain his composure quickly, because only a short time after their entrance she could hear his hurried footsteps and concerned voice.

"Arlo, Elenya, what happened?"

Elenya kept her face buried in Arlo's neck, the bright light of the clinic almost worse for her head than the sunlight, but fortunately neither Arlo nor Dr. Xu expected an answer from her.

"She fainted and hit her head on her planter box. The wound is pretty deep and I'm concerned she may have a concussion." Arlo's voice was tense and full of concern, his grip around her tightening.

"She fainted? That doesn't sound good. But I'll take a look at her head first, then we'll deal with the cause of it. Please set her down carefully on the bed here." Dr. Xu also sounded very concerned, and guilt spread through her. She hated it when other people had to worry about her.

Arlo carefully set her down on the hospital bed and reluctantly she broke away from him. She didn't want to part from his warmth and protective darkness, but reason prevailed over her muddled brain.

Elenya must have made a protesting sound anyway, because Arlo gently hushed her. "It's all right, darling. I'm not leaving."

Supporting her head, he gently laid her down. But as soon as she was horizontal, she was overcome by such dizziness and nausea that, with a stifled groan, she reached blindly for Arlo's shoulder to pull herself up against him with the last of her strength.

The quick movement, of course, only made everything worse and, uncoordinated, she fell against Arlo's chest. The world continued to spin behind her eyelids, blood rushed in her ears, and only with difficulty did she keep the nausea at bay.

Oh God...

Again, her sense of time left her and she couldn't tell exactly how long it took until the roaring in her ears finally subsided and she was able to register something around her again.

She was still leaning sideways against Arlo's chest, his right arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, while his other hand stroked her arm soothingly. She could hear his stressed heartbeat under her left ear, and apologetically she raised her trembling hand to his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Sorry... I'm... okay. Just... awfully dizzy..." At her soft words, his grip around her shoulders tightened and he gently took her hand in his.

"There's nothing to apologise for. Just focus on yourself. Dr. Xu is getting you something for the pain and nausea right now, and you should feel better in a minute." His words were gentle and punctuated by a loving kiss on her head.

As if on cue, Dr Xu's calm voice rang out. "Here, this is a new mixture I have developed with the help of my master from Seesai. It helps with both pain and nausea." A small vial was pressed into her free hand. "Can you try to open your eyes for me, Elenya? I would like to look at them."

She really didn't want to, but it seemed she had no choice. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes and after her vision cleared a little, she was met by a softly smiling Dr. Xu.

"That’s good. I will now quickly shine a light into your eyes, which will be very uncomfortable, I’m afraid, but it will be over in a moment. After that, you can take the medicine and I'll take care of the laceration, okay?"

Before Elenya could react, a small lamp was held in front of her eyes and she involuntarily flinched to escape the stabbing pain. Arlo, however, held her upright and squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Okay, it's over already. You're welcome to close your eyes again if you like." Elenya didn't need to be told twice and closing her eyes, she let her head fall exhausted against Arlo's shoulder. Every heartbeat throbbed uncomfortably in her head and she could hardly wait to be back home in her bed.

With Arlo's help, she took the honey-sweetened medicine and let the rest of the procedure pass in silence. Fortunately, the head wound did not need stitches and Dr. Xu was able to close it with a few butterfly plasters after cleaning it thoroughly. A rectangular compress was applied to protect it, and then at least her head was taken care of.

After a short conversation with Arlo, he also took some blood from her, but she couldn't say exactly what they had talked about. Arlo had held her upright the whole time, stroking her arm and back reassuringly, and she just concentrated on his closeness and smell. He always had such a calming effect on her that she could forget the pain and fog in her head for a moment.

~~~~~~

15 minutes later, Elenya sat with Arlo on the edge of the hospital bed. His right arm was still wrapped around her shoulders and her head leaned against his shoulder. The medicine was not yet completely helping against the pain and she still felt light-headed and exhausted. Her eyes were still closed against the harsh light of the clinic, and Arlo was gently running his other hand through her hair.

"So, I have some good news and some bad news. Which one do you want to hear first?" At Dr. Xu's words, her eyes opened lazily and she looked up into the doctor's ever-calm face. Arlo took the decision from her.

"The bad one first, please." He squeezed her shoulder lightly and with a tense face, he looked toward the doctor. "So, Elenya has a mild concussion. She should rest for the next 2-3 days and definitely not do any heavy work. The best thing would be to sleep a lot and not strain her eyes, then it should pass without any problems."

Dr. Xu spoke about her as if she wasn't there, and while that would normally bother her, she was grateful right now. Thinking was still hard for her and she was quite happy to leave that to Arlo. The latter also promptly pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head and pulled her a little closer to him. "Damn, I shouldn't have let you out of my sight. Then I could have caught you and this wouldn't have happened." Guilt resonated in his voice and with a sigh she lifted her heavy head to look him in the eyes, exasperated.

"You know as well as I do that I wouldn't have let that happen. I have only myself to blame. If I had listened to you and snuggled up with you on the bench, this wouldn't have happened either." "But..." "No buts. It's not your fault, honey. You can't..."

"Now do you still want to know the good news?" Dr. Xu interrupted her mid-sentence. He had been watching the exchange with a fond smile. He knew the spectacle well enough, it was, unfortunately, not the first time Elenya had been hurt and the two always "fought" about the same thing afterwards.

Apologetically, Elenya looked up at the doctor. Her headache had become more bearable and her brain cleared up a bit. Arlo also turned back to Dr. Xu and they both looked expectantly at him.

"Well, the reason you haven't been feeling well for the past few days is..." Dr. Xu actually paused dramatically and confused, Arlo and she looked at each other.

She wasn't feeling well and Dr. Xu called this good news?

Arlo was already opening his mouth to probably ask the same thing when Dr. Xu finished his sentence with a smile. "You're pregnant."

Surprise rippled through her. She was... pregnant?

That announcement drove the rest of the fog from her brain and thinking hard, she tried to remember when her last period was. And sure enough, she was already a week overdue.

Why hadn't she noticed? Along with her symptoms, she should have figured it out for herself. The fatigue, the recurring nausea and the dizzy spells. Everything pointed to a pregnancy.

Elenya looked up at Arlo with big eyes and he looked back with just as big ones. Wonder was written all over his face. They had talked about starting a small family a while ago, but then both got overwhelmed with so much work that they didn't have time to plan further. And now she was pregnant!

She joyfully jumped up to embrace her husband, completely forgetting about her concussion and directly paying the price for it. Pain shot through her head, black dots danced before her eyes and her legs buckled.

"Woah, careful!" Arlo quickly caught her and pulled her protectively against his chest. Dr. Xu took a startled step toward her as well, but was able to drop his arms again in reassurance. "Hey, I'm just as happy as you are, but don't try to crack your brain open again right away, okay?" Arlo's voice was laced with both concern and joy, and after the dizziness and pain subsided a bit again, she snuggled happily against him.

"Sorry..." She let Arlo hold her weight for a while longer, until her legs were halfway stable again. Then she detached herself from him slightly so she could finally look him in the face properly. His clear blue eyes looked at her with a mixture of concern, disbelief and joy. "We're having a baby." He whispered joyfully and pressed a long, gentle kiss to her lips.

"Yes, we are." She whispered back just as happily after they broke away from each other and then rested her head against his shoulder, exhausted. The joyful adrenaline rush quickly left her and immediately Arlo's arms tightened around her.

"I think it's time to take you home, sweetheart. You need to rest." He pressed another gentle kiss to her head and a happy sigh escaped her.

"I agree. I think it's best if you come back in a few days so I can have a look at your head and so we can discuss what to do about the pregnancy. The dizziness and nausea will stay for a while until your body gets used to its new task, so please be a little more careful. As I'm sure you've noticed, getting up quickly in particular causes problems for your body, so keep that in mind." Dr. Xu rummaged in one of his cupboards for a moment, then handed them a bag filled with the vials of the same slightly greenish liquid she had just drunk.

"Here, for the headache you'll be feeling for the next few days. Don't take more than three a day, please. Otherwise the effect could be reversed. But now I'm dismissing you and remember: No hard labour for the next three days.” Dr. Xu's gaze was gentle yet stern and, sheepishly, Elenya hid her face a little more in Arlo's chest.

Building was her passion, she couldn't just get out of her skin. But as miserable as she felt at the moment, she would voluntarily take a few days off. Not to mention that Arlo wouldn't let her out of his sight, of course.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of that," came from him right away, too, as expected. He quickly tucked her medicine into his waist bag and then she was in his arms again. "Thank you very much, Dr. Xu. We'll come by again in a few days."

"No need to thank me. However, if her headache worsens or any other symptoms come up, please come back to me directly, okay?" Dr. Xu waved them both off and with a final thank you from her as well, Arlo carried her out of the clinic and got her back up on Spacer.

~~~~~~

Once home, Arlo carefully helped Elenya off Spacer again and lifted her up into his arms. Exhausted, she immediately buried her face in his neck and let his familiar scent envelop her. The excitement of the last 2 hours had completely drained her.

She still couldn't believe she was pregnant!

It felt so surreal that there was a little creature just starting to grow in her belly. That the concussion still hampered her thought processes didn't help either. She tried not to let it unsettle her, though, since she had Arlo by her side. Her wonderful, strong husband who always took such loving care of her and whom she loved with all her heart.

Who also just carried her straight to the bedroom and gently put her down on their bed.

"Here we are, darling. Would you like something to eat or would you rather try to sleep a little?" Arlo's right hand gently cupped her cheek and tenderly he caressed it with his thumb.

With a soft sigh, Elenya nestled into his palm. "I don't think I could eat right now. I'm still feeling slightly nauseous." Dr. Xu medicine had helped well, but her stomach still felt queasy and she wanted nothing more than to sleep right now.

"Okay, but you should at least drink some more water. You haven't had anything to drink since this morning." His words left no room for argument.

He quickly fetched her a full glass of water from the kitchen and made sure she drank it down to the last drop. Indeed, the water helped her stomach to settle down a bit and with relief she laid down.

"Hey, I know you're tired, but don't you want to put on something more comfortable?" Arlo's soft laugh sent a warm shiver down her spine, but she still couldn't help an annoyed grumble.

She didn't want to change, she wanted to sleep!

Another laugh came in response. "Come on, I'll help you. You'll feel a little better in it."

Before she knew it, she was dressed in warm sweatpants and a simple T-shirt, the covers pulled up to her chin, and Arlo's hand gently running through her hair lulling her into a light sleep.

For the next few hours, she alternated between a light sleep and dozing while Arlo read a book next to her, leaning against the headboard. When it was time for dinner, he cooked her crepes with fruit sauce at her request, since she had no appetite for anything else. In general, he made sure she had everything she needed and was as comfortable as possible.

Every time she woke up from her light slumber, he greeted her with a gentle kiss. Either on her lips, forehead or even the back of her hand. And when it was also time for him to go to sleep, he gently pulled her to his chest and started massaging her head until she actually fell into a deep sleep.

Unfortunately, the sleep didn't last as long as she would have liked. It was early morning, the sun not even up yet, when she was rudely roused from her sleep. Dr. Xu's medicine had worn off by now and her head was pounding terribly, but that was not what had awakened her. No, her stomach rebelled awfully and she quickly realised that she would not be able to hold back the nausea this time.

Luckily, she had rolled away from Arlo during the night, so she was able to get out of bed quickly. However, the world around her immediately began to spin, worsening her nausea, and blindly and uncoordinatedly she stumbled toward the bathroom. She fell to her knees in front of the toilet just in time for the first wave to hit her.

Sharp pains coursed through her head as her stomach contents emptied into the toilet, and tears leaked from her eyes. Cold sweat trickled down her forehead and back and she shivered.

God, she hadn't felt this miserable in a long time.

Outside the bathroom, the light came on.

"Elenya, are you all right?" Arlo's concerned voice rang through the half-closed door, but before she could answer him, the next wave overcame her.

"Oh, sweetheart..." A large, warm hand rested on her back and another took her hair from her hands, which she awkwardly held back. Another wave rolled over her and this time she couldn't hold back a light sob.

She had always hated throwing up, but now together with the concussion it was almost unbearable.

The hand on her back began to stroke soothingly up and down and Arlo's warm voice whispered soft words in her ear. After a fourth wave, her stomach finally seemed to have had enough and exhausted, she let herself fall against his chest with a whimper. Immediately his arms closed around her and half pulled her onto his lap. It had to be quite uncomfortable for him, but he didn't acknowledge it, instead wiping the last few tears from her cheeks with a gentle touch.

"I'm so sorry you are feeling bad, sweetie. Do you think you're done?" With one hand, he gently lifted her head and his blue eyes looked down at her lovingly.

She nodded. Her stomach still hurt, but the need to vomit was thankfully gone.

"That's good. How about you brush your teeth and I'll get you a vial of Dr. Xu's medicine. Then you should feel better soon, okay?" He waited for her to agree before closing the lid of the toilet and helping her sit on it. Quickly, he flushed the toilet and then handed her her toothbrush.

Getting the nasty taste out of her mouth helped her feel a little better and by the time she was done, Arlo was standing in front of her again, said vial and a grey bundle in his hand.

"Here, I also brought you my grey sweater. I saw you shivering and I know how much you like it." A loving smile graced his lips and she perked up at his words.

Oh, she loved that sweater!

It was soft, warm and always smelled of Arlo as she made him wear it regularly. It was almost as good as a hug from him. Eagerly she raised her arms and with a warm chuckle Arlo complied to her silent request and pulled the sweater over her head.

Momentarily forgetting her discomfort, she snuggled into the warmth of the jumper before accepting the opened vial of medicine from Arlo. She quickly emptied the bottles contents and was surprised to find that her stomach accepted the liquid without protest.

"Come on, let's get you back to bed." This time without waiting for her reply, he lifted her high into his arms and she snuggled happily against him. She would never admit it openly, but she loved it when he carried her in his arms. There she felt safe and secure and knew that nothing could happen to her.

After only a few steps, they were back in their bedroom. Gently, Arlo set her down on the bed and then helped her to lie down. He himself laid down on her right side, propped himself up on his elbow and cupped her cheek with his right hand. His gaze was filled with such tenderness and love that tears welled up in her eyes.

Damn hormones!

"I love you so much. Thank you for carrying our child, sweetheart. You’ll be a wonderful mother. I'm so glad we're taking this step together." Through her tears, she smiled up at her wonderful husband.

"You big sap. Don't thank me yet, though. You get to deal with my whining and mood swings for the next nine months."

Laughing softly, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "Don't worry, it's worth it. I'll look after you both, I promise." A single tear escaped her and touched, she replied, "I know. You always do."

Gently, Arlo wiped the tear away and captured her in a tender kiss. "You should get some more sleep, if you can. It will do you good."

"Will you stay with me?" She looked up at him with pleading eyes. The sun was rising by now and the time Arlo usually got up was approaching. She was still miserable, though, and didn't want to be alone.

"Of course, you don't even have to ask. Sam and Remy can manage without me for a few more days. You're much more important right now, especially until your concussion heals. I'll stay as long as you need me." "Thank you..."

Carefully, she turned on her side and Arlo immediately snuggled against her back. He gently slid his left arm under her head so she could use it as a pillow, and his right hand came to rest protectively on her stomach. It was nice and warm and helped her stomach relax a bit.

She still felt nauseous and her head hurt, but in Arlo's arms she felt safe and loved and exhausted she fell into a restful sleep.

(And because that game is so fucking cute:)

#badthingshappenbingo #bad things happen bingo: vertigo #mtap #my time at portia #mtap arlo #my time at portia arlo #mtap builder #mtap female builder #mtap builder elenya #mtap dr. xu #arlo my love #vomiting #concussion

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midgardianweasley · 3 years ago

Note

Oh please may I request a Natasha X fem reader where Natasha comes down with the flu & reader takes care of her. At first Natasha is in denial & stubborn about being sick but Reader is having none of it, especially for the woman she has feelings for. So reader carries Natasha to her room. For a week reader does her best to make the red head as comfy as she can. Then one night when Natasha is high on medication, confesses her feelings for reader. Just pure fluff! I will forever be grateful! ❤️❤️

of course! i hope you like it <3

Take care of you

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary/request: Natasha comes down with the flu & reader takes care of her. At first Natasha is in denial & stubborn about being sick but Reader is having none of it, especially for the woman she has feelings for. So the reader carries Natasha to her room. For a week the reader does her best to make the red head as comfy as she can. Then one night when Natasha is high on medication, confesses her feelings for the reader.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.8k

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Requests are open

It was another day in the compound, the early sunrise started to make its way into your window, dimly lighting the room and beginning to make you stir awake.

A quiet groan escaped your lips, arms and legs automatically stretching before relaxing immediately afterwards. You’d just come back from a mission a couple of days ago, it had been exhausting and cold. So, so, cold. So it was a relief to get into pyjamas and your blanketed bed with the heating up so the room was warm, but not a furnace.

Standing up, your toes curled into the fluffy rug as you picked up a grey jumper that had been discarded beside the bed, throwing it over your figure, falling just below your thighs which were covered with loose sweatpants.

You made your way out of the bedroom and towards the communal kitchen belonging to everyone that belonged on your floor, Tony had made an all girls floor for us, apparently we need the space to deal with our 'girly stuff', that man has a way with words. Tony stayed with Pepper on their own floor and the male Avengers had been split up in small groups across other floors.

Expecting the kitchen to have a few people inside either eating or just chatting, you were surprised to see that it was empty for as far as you could see. However, it was obvious that people had been in beforehand, with the odd plate and mug lying around next to the sink.

‘Must be in training’ you thought.

Before you could walk to the kitchen island and begin to make something to eat, you heard a sneeze coming from the doorway a few steps behind you. With a small jump, you turned to see an assassin whose nose was currently the same colour as her hair.

“Sorry for scaring you.” She snuffled. Obviously the cold hit some people a little harder than others.

“It’s alright, you okay though? You sound a bit snuffly.”

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just allergies.” Pulling some Frosties from the cupboard below her, exposing her side a little as her top fell forward.

You knew she was lying, she’d told you ages ago that she didn’t have any kind of hayfever or anything when you walked around the compound with antihistamines constantly in your back pocket during the spring time last year and she was making jokes about how screwed you would be if the Avengers had to fight against pollen. You weren’t impressed.

You decided to leave it be for now, let her keep up her little facade, even though you knew, and she did too, that you could read her like a book and you knew she was sick.

“Right. Allergies.” You nodded directly to your friend and teammate, walking towards her to make yourself some cereal too, smirking to yourself slightly whenever you heard her try not to audibly sniffle.

The thing about Natasha that you'd always found so bittersweet, was her stubbornness. She always stuck to her guns, always made a deal to let it be known she was correct, however it was never in a malicious way, or to make anyone feel bad, she just liked to make her point. While you admired her confidence and certainty in her words, it was also incredibly frustrating when she was determined she didn't need any help.

Back in the days when she was hesitant to trust all those around her, she wouldn't let anyone help her heal her wounds from missions she'd been hurt on. Always brushing it off with an 'I'm fine' or 'I can do it myself'. She's grown a lot since then, she even occasionally let's you braid her hair when it's fallen out or she just needs to relax a little and while you know it's mainly for practicality, you still pride yourself on the fact that she chooses you to do that for her. To help her.

"Achoo!"

You just wish she'd have that same trust in you to nurse her a little.

"Doing okay over there?" You directed to the redhead who now sat curled up into the corner of the sofa by the windows, slowly munching on her cereal and taking short, mouthy breaths

"I'm doing" sniffle "great" She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, it slowly appearing more red and irritated by the action.

You internally sigh, wondering how long it'll really take for her to fess up to you that she was coming down with something. Continuing to make your cereal and tidy up afterwards, you pick up the bowl and make your way over to Natasha.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?"

"Sure, but not too close"

"Why not?"

"Because i.."

"Because you're…?"

"Sneezing all over the place! I don't want to sneeze on you. You know how it is with your hayfever"

In her years of being a highly trained assassin, a black widow, you think that that has to have been the worst lie she's tried to pull off.

"I do, but I don't think you would"

"Huh?"

"You don't have hayfever, Nat. You're sick."

"I'm no-" she was interrupted with another sneeze, grabbing a tissue from the box sitting on the table beside her.

“Bless you.”

“thank you” she mumbled, soon beginning to realize that with every minute, her story begins to crumble and her ill health becomes more obvious.

“come on, i’m taking you to bed”

“you’re not even gonna ask me on a date first? classy.” she joked, although congested, her wit remained just as quick and just as sassy.

It was moments like these, where she made those flirty comebacks or comments that made you wonder if the feelings you’ve harbored over the past months are reciprocated. you’d always put it to the back of your mind when you’d occasionally see her and Bruce cosying up, or what appeared to be a loving gaze shared between her and Steve. You decided to put your feelings to one side, not willing to not only ruin something for Nat, but end up being hurt in the long run. It was best to stay friends.

If only you knew.

A playful glare was sent her way upon hearing her words, trying to silently communicate that try as she may, she isn’t winning this one. It felt like you were staring at each other for hours, realistically it was only a matter of seconds, minutes at a push, before she threw her head back in defeat and audibly groaned at the fact she’d lost.

“Okay. okay, fine, I surrender”

You rolled your eyes at the dramatics, all of this for some bed rest, meds and soup. Standing up from your spot, you lean down and swiftly lift the redhead up bridal style in your arms, cereal being long forgotten. One of the perks of attending Steve’s training sessions, you build up a hell of a lot of strength because that man does not go easy on you.

It was a short walk to Nat’s bedroom, her room only being at the end of the hall down from the kitchen. She was practically half asleep in your arms, her head had found its way burrowed into the crook of your neck, minutes away from falling asleep.

“Hey FRIDAY, can you unlock Natasha’s room please? Hands are kinda full.”

You heard a small click noise before the door opened slightly allowing you to gently kick it open fully so you could walk in.

“Miss Romanoff’s door is unlocked, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

Walking in, you already had an idea of what her room would look like, having been in once or twice before. Natasha liked to keep her things tidy and in order, clothes laid away, bed made, floor clear. So to see her bed covers ruffled into a ball, tissues in the bin and scattered around and laundry in a bundle in the corner, it took you by surprise. She must really be unwell.

You took her over to the bed, laying her down gently before pressing the back of your hand to her forehead, she felt like an oven to the touch.

‘Okay. definitely a fever.’

She was in between being asleep and being awake, so you decided to leave her covers off and tidy up some of the mess in her bedroom. You discarded the tissues, hung up some clean clothes that were yet to be put away and replaced the space in the basket with her dirty laundry. Turning back to see if the assassin had fallen asleep or not, you really took in her appearance.

Her clothes were just slightly on the big side, but you could still see a faint outline of her figure, hair was tied back into a loose ponytail, letting the odd few strands escape and frame her face. Her eyes were practically fully shut, but you could still see the tint of green in them, slightly covered by her long, dark eyelashes. ‘It’s unbelievable’, you thought, ‘Her body is literally shutting down, and she still looks angelic.’

You’d be riddled with envy if you weren’t so entranced by her. Times like this, you wonder how you manage to keep your feelings to yourself.

“What” cough “what are you doing?” A raspy voice asked.

“Oh, I was just tidying up your room a bit, I know you like it to be tidy and-”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. I wanted to.” You ensured.

“Thank you.” It wasn’t obvious, you had to squint to see it, but she attempted a half smile.

“I’m just going to put this stuff in the wash, do you need anything brought back for you?”

“I’m just too warm.”

Looking around the room, you looked for ways to cool her down. There was the obvious option of windows, but they were full length except a tiny rectangle at the top which wouldn’t be enough air. You racked your brain for another minute before an idea came to mind.

“Wait here, I’ll be back in a second.”

“I’ll time you.”

If you weren’t in a rush to get back as soon as possible, you would’ve made a comeback to her comment. You took the washing to the laundry room, quickly throwing it all into the machine and putting on a boil wash before dashing to your own bedroom. Eyes scanning all over the room, it didn’t take long before they landed on the desk fan sitting on top of your wardrobe. Reaching up and grabbing it, thankfully it was a small wardrobe otherwise it would’ve been an incredibly embarrassing fall, you made your way back to Nat’s room.

Entering her room, you could feel it getting warmer as time went by. The woman hadn’t moved from where you left her, still sprawled out among the sheets. You set the fan down on her bedside table, plugged it in and switched the ‘on’ button. Over the quiet whirring, you heard a faint gasp of relief leave Nat’s lips, her body visibly relaxing at the cool breeze.

“That feel better?”

“Mhmm” She murmured, shifting in her bed to get as close to the fan as possible.

“How’s your hayfever now?”

“Hmm”

You chuckled at her sudden calmness that overtook her, glad to have been able to help her out a little.

It wasn’t long before she fell asleep, the last of her energy disappeared within seconds and soft snores emitted from her. Pushing her hair back off of her forehead gently, you whispered a quiet ‘sleep well, love.’ before walking out to do some other things around the compound, reminding yourself to come back in an hour or so to check in.

You didn’t notice the affectionate smile that had made its way onto Nat’s face at your gesture.

__________________________

“Miss Y/L/N.” Friday suddenly announced, making you drop the wooden spoon you were using to stir the soup you’d made for Nat. You remember her mentioning a dish called ‘borscht’, something she used to have in Russia, it was one of her comfort dishes. It was either this, or pizza. The soup was probably the safer option.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes, sorry F.R.I.D.A.Y., what’s wrong?”

“Miss Romanoff is awake and asking for you.”

“Oh, thank you! Could you let her know I'll be through in a minute?”

“Of course.”

And with a chime, F.R.I.D.A.Y. went off to pass on the message. You hastily got a bowl out of the cupboard behind you, spooning a generous amount of the soup in and covering the pot up afterwards.

The room had considerably cooled now, the fan had been on full speed since you left, the only difference was the curtains were now shut and the corner lamp was on, dimly illuminating the room.

A small ‘hi’ could be heard, although muffled, still audible. You knelt down beside her bed so you could be at the same eye level and tugged the blanket covering half of her face down.

“Hey sleepy.”

“Did I sleep for long?”

“Only an hour. Don’t worry.”

“An hour?! Ugh. I said to Clint that i’d train with him today. I’ll get dressed.” She attempted to sit up, and while successful, she looked as though she’d just got off the twister ride at the funfair. You shook your head, putting your hands on her arms and lightly pushed her back, raising your eyebrows in response to her playful glare.

“I spoke to Clint, he said he’ll catch you when he feels better. He didn’t feel up to dragging your passed out body off of the mats today.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’d be-” She sniffed, well, tried to, and looked around the room curiously before her eyes landed on the bowl beside her and then darted between it and your face.

“Did you-” She pointed towards the food “make Borscht?”

You looked down sheepishly.

“I tried. I remember you saying you used to eat it and I thought it might help. But if you don’t like it then-”

“I’m sure I will.” She reached over for the bowl, hand clasping the tea towel I slid underneath it so as not to burn her hands.

Settling with her soup, she blew on her spoon, cooling the substance before eating some. You watched anxiously, hoping you hadn’t messed up too bad, you’d only made it once before when she taught you the basics of it, so this was the first time you’d made it alone.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding when you saw her smile, looking at you adoringly.

“I love it.” She rasped

“You do? Is it okay?”

“More than. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, making small talk here and there while she ate.

“Do you want me to set up a movie for you?”

“Sure.”

You walked over to retrieve her laptop, getting ‘Grown Up’s’ up on the screen. She’s recently been into Adam Sandler movies, it was a nice and easy movie to watch, it was really lighthearted. You nudged the laptop over to her, angling it so she could still see it properly when lying down. When you got up to leave, you felt a weak grip on your wrist, encouraging you to turn and meet those shimmering, slightly droopy, green eyes.

“Need anything Nat?”

“Can you stay? Please? I like your company.”

Your stomach suddenly became home to a zoo full of butterflies, as it often did when you spent time with Natasha. You’d both spent time together before obviously, but it was usually due to missions or as a group, only occasionally getting the chance for it to be just the two of you. So to have her openly request your company, it was heartwarming. Unbeknown to you, Natasha had the exact same feeling in her stomach, and it wasn’t because of the Borscht.

You gave her a nod, trying to hide the smile trying to force its way onto your face as you settled yourself down next to her, in the meantime missing the smile she was giving you, the kind where you smile with both your mouth and your eyes with a slight sparkle in them.

You looked up eventually, causing her to snap her head back towards the screen, a smile still clear as day on her face, only getting larger as you maneuvered your arm so it was behind her neck, allowing her to get closer, which she did. So close that you could feel her ragged breathing on your chest.

If you had to use one word to describe how you’re feeling right now?

It’d be warmth. The air may have been cold, the bowl left on the side will inevitably be the same. But all you can feel, is the warmth of the blankets spilling over the bed. The warmth from the laptop. The warmth radiating from the one who you admired so dearly beside you. And most vital of all, the warmth running through your entire body, making your heart feel full. If you had the chance, you’d bottle this feeling and treasure it forever.

__________________________

A week went by, and Natasha was almost fully recovered, just having to take her medicine and rest when she can, but she’s now able to walk around the compound more often. However, although she’s had this freedom returned, she doesn’t appear to long for it as much as she did a week ago.

When she woke up in the morning, she’d roll her eyes when you’d told her she couldn’t go and train, she had to stay in bed. Unimpressed with not being able to go about her day as usual, she’d try and convince you that you were being dramatic.

'I don’t need to stay in bed.'

'You're worrying over nothing!'

'Let me leave my bedroom.'

'I’m perfectly able to go and train.'

She wasn’t, and was soon proven wrong as she collapsed back on the bed with a cracking headache.

But now, after the last 7 days of eating with you, watching movies with you and just generally indulging in conversations until she fell asleep with you, she started to feel like she didn’t want to feel better, she wanted this time with you to last forever. If she didn’t have feelings for you before, she most definitely did now. Or more so that she recognised it more now. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Maybe it was the way you took the time to make her favourite foods, or maybe it was the way you always made sure to check in with her and how she was feeling. Although, it also could’ve easily been the way your eyes lit up at the funny scenes in a movie, similar to the way they did whenever you made eye contact with her.

“Nat? Earth to Nat?” Lost in her thoughts, Natasha blinked a couple of times to focus back on the girl in front of her, smiling as always.

“Sorry, daydreaming.” She chuckled, her face feeling warmer as a blush appeared on her cheeks.

“Don’t worry” You laughed. “I was just letting you know that I'm gonna go and get your Nyquil, it should help with the headache and sore throat.”

“Ah, so I'm getting the good stuff now?” She winked

“I think you deserve it, plus, you’ve blown through the last of the ibuprofen.” You gave her a playful glare, both of you knowing that you’d have to go and buy some more, but you didn’t mind, you’d have gone to all 50 states for it if you had to.

“What can I say? I’m sick” Pulling the puppy eyes, not being able to last a minute without bursting into a grin, which you responded with a dramatic faint for an exit out of the room, leaving to go and get the Nyquil.

Getting her to take it was easy enough, dealing with a sleepy Nat, not so easy.

“Y/NNNN”

“Yes?”

“I don’t like this movie.” She grumbled, pushing her face further into the pillow as her sign of protest.

“What’s wrong with this one?”

“It’s stupid.”

“You love this movie!”

“No.”

“Right, what would you like instead?” You asked, already clicking out of the movie to go and pick another one for the fourth time.

“I don’t wanna watch anything anymore.”

“Okay. I’ll turn it off then. Still want me to stay?”

“Please”

“Alright.”

You shut down the laptop, putting it to the side and lay down next to the redhead who was trying to fight sleep. You reached forward to put some hair that was in her face, behind her ear, trying to ensure she was comfortable. It must’ve worked because before you could pull your hand away, her face nuzzled into your palm, eyebrows easing from their furrow.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” She whispered so quietly that if there was any other noise in the room, there’s no chance you would’ve heard it.

“It’s my pleasure Nat.”

She opened her eyes fully now, instantly meeting yours, they were cloudy with sleep. There was a comforting silence surrounding the both of you, neither one of you daring to break eye contact, I hadn’t taken any medicine yet I was still falling asleep with how peaceful it was. I woke up more when she started to murmur again, this time, it was incoherent.

“What was that?”

“I like you.”

“I like you too, Nat.” You smiled warmly

“Noo, as in, I like you.”

You could’ve sworn you felt your heart stop. Is she actually- Is this- what?

“You’re just tired, love.” She shook her head

“m not that” Yawn “tired.”

“Tell you what, get some sleep and then tell me in the morning when the meds have worn off, okay?”

“m’kay. I will y’know”

“I believe you” You were hesitant with her words, unsure about whether this was a moment she’d forget tomorrow and it’s not her true feelings, or if it was true and the circumstances had just convinced you otherwise.

But, true to her word, the next morning when you woke up, still groggy from the sleep, she was laying there almost wide awake with a toothy grin.

“morn-“ And before you could finish your word, her lips were on yours. They felt like the perfect fit, moving against yours at a gentle pace, though still not enough to let you process what was actually going on.

“Morning” She pulled away.

“That enough confirmation for you?”

more than enough.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

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