#huddled in my desk chair in the dark with a blanket wrapped around me

[crmsndragonwngss]

Well, don't lean on me 'cause I am falling, Please don't fall with me I really need you here, Yeah, I need you, so don't leave And don't count on me 'cause I am drowning, Please don't drown with me Just hold me in your heart, Let the ocean take me Let the ocean take me

[cityofdreams-writing]

Master Knows Best

Rating: E

Pairing: Cat Hybrid!Hyunjin x Cat Hybrid!Felix x Cat Hybrid!Minho x Dom!Human!Male!Reader

Word Count: 3.5K

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Shameless smut, swearing, cat hybrids/maids, foursome, maid kink, cats in heat, mentioned shower sex, bondage, safe word use but happy ending, I think that’s it.

Author: @cityofdreams-writing

Description: Hyunjin, Minho, Felix are catboy maids in heat. (Y/N) can help with that.

Notes: For noona, thank you for being my first online friend. For sticking all the way to the end. @guksauce, happy birthday.

Soundtrack: None

Hyunjin, Felix, and Minho are all in heat. All together. This usually doesn't happen because their cycles are janked up to all hell, but once in a blue moon their cycles come together. Kind of like an eclipse. It happens only a few times in a few years. Obviously it’s not that rare, but still. You help them out when they need it, sort of like a maids-with-benefits relationship but they're catboys.

They aren't exactly extremely horny when in heat, but for one in particular—Hyunjin—you can say differently.

You're in your room, working (as per usual) when Hyunjin wanders in, fully wrapped up in a blanket, black hair matted with sweat. 

You hear his footsteps on the wooden floor and the slight jingle of his collar and turn to look at him, spinning your desk chair to face him.

His plush lips look bitten and swollen, a very pretty red and slick with saliva. His eyes blink lazily, almost fluttering closed to reveal long dark lashes against milky pale skin. His black ears twitch and pop out of the blanket, along with his tail, which swishes lazily.

When he talks, his voice comes out broken. "M-master, 'm h-hungry!"

You roll your chair over and reach up to fondle his ears, cooing gently to soothe him, asking if he wants food (he says no, it's a different kind of hunger), watching as he mewls softly in pleasure and then you hear the buzzing. The telltale sound of a vibrator in him. That would explain the broken sentences.

Now, you're fine with vibrator play, especially during heat, but they have to ask your permission.

And no one had asked you.

"Jinnie…who did this~?" Your voice is as soft as silk, but as dangerous as a double-edged razor, sending shivers down his spine. 

"M-Minho-hyung, master…" Hyunjin whimpers against your skin, kissing your neck softly. You can tell he's telling the truth. His body language says it all. He's being vulnerable with you, something that is normally rare from him.

"Be a good boy and tell me everything, baby. You'll be rewarded." 

He knows you aren't lying. You give amazing rewards, but only to those who deserve it.

Minho, Felix and Hyunjin were all talking on the couch. Random stuff, really. They were watching a movie and huddled together under blankets with snacks, their maid skirts spread out around them. They'd finished all of their duties and were waiting for master to come home. 

Minho's hand was wandering a little too far up near Hyunjin's crotch to be friendly, and he noticed. Under the skirt, too.

He wasn't wearing underwear either. None of them wear underwear, generally, when in their house. 

And then it hit. Minho wrapped his hand around his cock and started jerking him off. While Hyunjin was distractedly trying to push him off under a haze of pleasure, he sneakily slipped a vibrator in, turning it on. 

Felix was oblivious to the whole thing, focused on the movie he was watching. He didn't even hear when Hyunjin started moaning loudly.

"So you're saying Felix and you were being good boys?" You ask, lovingly stroking his ears and watching as his eyes fall shut in pleasure, feeling a soft purr vibrate through him.

"Y-yes, master…we were so good for you~"

"That's a good boy. Come here, I'll reward you. Actually, how about I reward you both and punish Minho at the same time, hm? Sound like a good idea?"

Hyunjin nods, biting his lip.

"Felix, Minho! Come here please!" You call down the stairs and then walk back to the room, where Hyunjin's already stripped himself down and sitting on your bed.

"Aww…looks like Jinnie read my mind~!" You pet his tail, watching as soft pants fall from his red lips.

"You're such a good boy, you know that~? Always such a good boy for me." Hyunjin whines happily and buries his head in your shoulder. You give him gentle head scratches, feeling loud purrs vibrate through his whole body. 

He looks up at you with big sparkly brown eyes and parted lips, whispering three words.

"Kiss me, please."

You oblige. He has very nice lips after all. "Open your mouth, baby boy." You whisper against his lips, and he obediently opens with a shiver down his spine. You gently lick into his mouth, coating his lips with your saliva and making him moan. 

"M-master~! I-it feels so g-good~!"

You let him go just in time to see Felix and Minho arrive and dip into deep bows. 

"Master? You called?" Felix says, confusion present in his pretty face.

"Felix, come here please." He comes closer, gasping when you pull him into a heated kiss, licking into your mouth and whimpering softly. 

"W-what's all this about?" His ears perk up, twitching in sensitivity as you gently stroke them.

"You’re my good boys, both you and Jinnie." You murmur softly, kissing his nose.

"He told me everything. Our Minho deserves a punishment, don’t you think?" You smirk.

Felix nods, looking at Minho and making a helpless face at him.

Minho glares at him, then arches a brow and has the audacity to smirk at you.

You grab a rope and tie it around his wrists to the back of a chair and make him sit, fully naked, on it. Before you turn the vibrator off and pull it out of Hyunjin, you snap it all the way up to the maximum speed for a just a few seconds. Hyunjin screams (met with a confused look from Felix and a smirk from Minho), vision blinking white, knees buckling, and mind going numb with pleasure. You smirk and pull it out, earning a whimper from him. The amount of slick he's leaking is…copious, to say the least. It turns you on and you just want to devour him right then and there, but you have to deal with Minho right now, so you turn back to him.

"If you can cum untouched to the sight of your dongsaengs getting rewarded, then I will let you go. If you can't, you're getting the vibrator all night until the sun rises, got it?" You snap before turning to Felix and Hyunjin, cooing and stroking their heads, watching as they purr and push gently against your hands for more.

You look back at him, watching as he strains against the rope and your gaze softens. "Minnie, what's your color?"

"Green, so fucking green!" Minho answers enthusiastically, excited by this prospect. Your gaze hardens and your demeanor changes. 

"You better have cum. Got that?" You force his chin up and smack his cock, which twitches under the force.

"Y-yes master!"

"Worthless slut." You mumble, loud enough for him to hear, apparently, because he whines a little bit. 

"Do you want to do anything in particular to me?" You say, stroking Felix's cheek. 

"P-please master…can I eat you out?" Hyunjin's the one who pipes up first.

"Of course you can, Jinnie. Come here. Lix?"

"Want you to fill me up, master, please." Felix looks up at you with big eyes.

You smile softly. "Sure, kitten. I have a request to make of you both, okay?"

"Yes, master?"

"Can I mark you both?"

"Yes, please master, mark us, make us yours!" Both whine, cocks twitching.

You smile and straddle Hyunjin's lap, licking at his sweet spot, feeling him whimper softly in pleasure and throw his head back. He puts his hand over his mouth to stifle his sounds, but you grab his wrist and lower his hand. 

"Don't, kitty. I want to hear your pretty sounds." You whisper against his skin, eliciting a shiver from him. 

"Y-yes master~!" He full-on moans when you suck on the same spot. You move down and flick his nipples experimentally, watching him jolt under your touch and moan louder.

"Master, master, please, p-please be gentle, 'm sensitive!" Cries fall from his lips, ending in a loud moan as you press a kiss to his sensitive dick.

"I'll fuck you both tonight, how's that sound?" Felix's blonde tail swishes around happily at that, wrapping around Hyunjin's chest and playing with a nipple.

The new sensation has the black haired hybrid keening, cock twitching as he moans. 

"O-oh, Felix, baby, t-that feels so good~!"

You smirk and let Felix play with him and turn your attention to Minho, who's staring at them both kissing with a death glare. Their moans ring across the room, no doubt making him green with envy.

"What's wrong, Minnie? Jealous, are you~?" He grumbles and looks away.

"Only good kitties get what they want, got that?" You slap his thigh before returning to Felix and Hyunjin, who've already become messy with saliva dripping down their chins from a sloppy kiss.

"Aw, my boys are all messy…my sweethearts. Hyunjin, you first. You can eat me out. Felix, you can do whatever else you want to me."

Hyunjin obeys and starts licking your rim, positively drooling at how you taste. He can feel slick leaking out of him, the wetness sticking to his thighs. He moans against you, spit coating his lips and tongue as he gently fucks it in and out of you. You groan loudly as he brushes against your prostate.

"Ah, Jinnie, it feels so good, keep going baby, you're doing so good for me~"

The sounds you make have him seeing stars, dizzy with pleasure as his hole clenches around nothing. Likewise the wet sounds and the quiet, breathy moans are just another source of pleasure for you.

"So g-good, feels s-so good, master…" He murmurs and you groan, turned on by his husky voice, reaching behind you and finding his black locks, giving it a tug and hearing him moan sweetly.

Felix, meanwhile, had dropped to his knees and first ran his tail over your dick, you squirming a bit at the odd sensation before he took you directly into his mouth. You throw your head back at the double stimulation from both ends, Hyunjin eating you out and Felix sucking your cock. 

His tongue runs the length of your dick, tracing a throbbing vein and swirling around the sensitive head, earning multiple curses from you at how good he’s doing.

"F-fuck, I'm close, make me cum~!" You stutter out, bucking your hips into Felix's mouth and feeling him gag and moan around you.

The kisses that Hyunjin leaves around your rim are wet, purely filthy, and long, lingering even, kisses that make your head spin with pleasure. You bite your lip at the loud, breathy moans he makes before diving back in to eat you out again. The sounds are just so sinful that you clench harder around his tongue, hearing a yell of pleasure escape him.

The way he softly murmurs compliments against you as he continues to leave dirty kisses all over your clenching rim has you arching your back, his raw voice sending you over the edge. The contrast could not be more different.

"Master, can we cum, please?" Felix asks, muffled by your cock.

"Yes, you can cum whenever you want." You moan, climaxing in his mouth, pulling out your cock after he's swallowed it all. He's created his own puddle of cum on the floor, ivory spurts dribbling out of his cock.

You look over at Minho with a concerned gaze. Minutes had passed and there was absolutely no activity coming from his side of the room, which was quite unusual for a normally shit-talking Minho.

"Minho, do you want to stop? What's your color?"

"Y-yellow…I'm sorry, master…" Tears form in his eyes, knowing he spoiled the other hybrids' fun.

"Shh…no, don't be sorry, my lovely kitten. Here, let me untie you." You shush him and wipe away his tears, untying the rope around him. He rubs his wrists and hugs you tightly. You embrace him and kiss his forehead, stroking his sweaty hair. "Let's talk. What's wrong?"

"I…I don't feel good, being ignored like this. It makes me feel useless, like I'm some toy to be played with and then tossed aside." He frowns, brown eyes boring holes into the ground, his resolve cracking bit by bit. Hyunjin soothingly smooths a hand down the taut muscles of his back, watching his hyung for any sign of discomfort. Felix lays down on Minho's lap, gazing up at him. The older man’s hand automatically finds Felix's hair and strokes it for comfort, relaxing a little when he hears him purr.

"What do you want to do instead, Min?" You caress his cheek gently, feeling him lean into your touch.

"Y-you can still play with them, just…go rough on me afterwards. I wanna be involved too, y'know?" He shrugs helplessly, trying to communicate as best he can and trying not to get upset. Fortunately, you understand.

"Of course. Do you want the ropes still?" 

"N-no…they feel a little uncomfortable, but I'd rather use handcuffs." Minho smiles a little at that. You smile softly, putting the rope away and clicking a pair of black fluffy handcuffs around his wrists. He sighs in relief.

"Does this feel better, kitten?" You murmur softly, feeling a shiver run through him as you trace the dips and curves of his stomach, kissing his scar and making his breath hitch.

"Mm…so much better, master…"

Hyunjin twists his hand around his cock, thumbing over the slit once as his lips twist into a smirk. Minho moans softly. 

"Still rock-hard, aren't you, hyung~?" Felix murmurs quietly in a husky voice, seeing his cock twitch in Hyunjin's grip.

"Y-yes, p-please help h-hyung, will you, Felix?" His thighs clench and rub together, but you gently force them apart again, making him whine.

Felix smirks. "No, because you were a brat. I don't help brats." 

The look of (fake) betrayal on his face has you biting your lip to keep laughter at bay. Hyunjin's chewing on his lip, a barely hidden smile on his face. As for Felix, the smirk only grows wider.

"Aw, fuck you." Minho's tone is exasperated and directed at Felix as he rolls his eyes.

"Ah, I almost forgot about that, thank you for reminding me!" You reply smoothly, smiling sweetly at him. 

"Hyunjin, play with him. Ride him, but don't let him touch you." You command.

"Yes master!" Hyunjin smiles excitedly, the smile twisting into a smirk as he thinks about all the ways to torture him. Minho groans in response, knowing he's going to get blue-balled to no end because Hyunjin is a fucking tease.

"Felix, get on the bed, ass up, and your face down. You can rest it on the pillow, okay?" You direct him towards the bed. He bites his lip, tail swishing and ears twitching in excitement, and dutifully gets on it, laying his body down and resting his head on the pillow.

You groan softly, thinking about the feeling of sinking into his tight, wet heat. You stroke his tail, hearing him moan brokenly. "Mmh…master, please, don't tease me~!" 

His eyes flutter shut, dark lashes against sunkissed skin. Slick dribbles out of his fluttering hole, running down his leg. You lick it up, making him whimper softly. He tastes sweet, and you voice the thought.

"Mm, Yongbokie, you taste so sweet…" 

Shit, now he's really turned on. You use that only during sex, and that means that you are going hard tonight.

He moans at that, his hole clenching. "Master, fuck~! Please, fuck me, don't hold back, I want it rough tonight. Breed me, master!"

He knows you well, playing off your breeding kink. But to be fair, it might just be his heat talking. 

You enter smoothly with no problems, then shoot a glance at the pair of cat hybrids on the other side of the room. It's a sinful sight to behold.

Hyunjin fucks himself on Minho's cock at a fast pace, moaning loudly, almost drowning out Minho's somewhat loud grunts and groans. His eyes are closed, head thrown back and mouth open in a perfect O shape. He pulls all the way out and slams back down, clenching down on his dick and making Minho throw his head back. He's got him shaking, just begging to touch and being denied every time. Hyunjin growls degrading praises and teases—something along the lines of "Do you like that~? Like me fucking you like the whore you are~? Yeah~? Too bad you can't touch." Or "It's like your cock was made for me, such a good slut."—in his ear (you overheard) and Minho flushes a bit, turning a creamy pink and whimpering loudly. Sweet-smelling slick coats his cock, making a sticky mess of his thighs and the chair, dripping onto the floor. Good thing the chair doesn't have a cushion. Minho's slick leaks out of his hole too, the mess of both of their scents on the floor somehow creating a smell that's somehow deliciously sweet.

The room smells like chocolate—Hyunjin's scent—strawberry—Felix—roses—Minho, and just sex in general, which is you.

You kiss down Felix's neck, feeling him sigh in pleasure against you. Tracing the muscles of his back, you stroke his ears until he's moaning from even the slightest touch to his body. The thing about him is that soft strokes, anywhere, but especially his ears, make his entire body sensitive.

You gently trace his spine, hearing him whimper just a little bit before you gently knead his ass, feeling soft, smooth skin and hearing soft whines of "master" coming from him. The sounds he makes are beautiful, absolutely stunning. Nothing like the pornos. It's honestly adorable, how shy he gets when he makes those sounds. 

You slowly start to move, licking at his sweet spot. The blonde haired hybrid's eyes fall shut, freckles standing out against flushed cheeks and mouth open, soft moans spilling from lips red from kissing. His velvety walls clench gently around your cock, breath hitching as the head of your cock brushes against them as you pull out and slowly push back in. His slick coats your cock and some drips out, so you take it on your index and middle fingers and put it up to his mouth. He eagerly sucks on them, moaning at the taste of himself on your fingers. 

You start building speed, drilling into the spot that drives him crazy. The hot, wet kisses you trail down his neck are dizzying bliss, making him moan loudly. Groaning loudly, you growl in his ear. "Shit, you're so wet for me, aren't you, baby?" He whimpers at that. "Y-yes master, so wet, just for you…"

The way his skin slaps against yours and the resulting filthy sounds that ensue makes you growl and go faster, drilling into his prostate with every thrust. He screams, gripping your arms and holding you impossibly close, leaving red crescent-shaped marks on them. Your muscles flex as you slam back up into him and he whines incoherently. (Your muscles are always a turn-on for him.)

He screams out a warning that he's going to cum, and you wrap a hand around his cock, pumping the shaft and seeing him bite his lip as he cums with a euphoric sigh.

"Does that feel better, my kitten?" You coo in his ear, feeling him nuzzle his head against your neck.

"So much better, master…thank you so much…" 

"I got you, honey. Just relax for me, okay? I’m going to be right back, hm? Just rest." You stroke his hair and kiss his head, smiling softly as he lifts his heavy head to kiss your cheek.

He falls asleep, his heat broken, as you stroke his hair and coo sweet nothings to him.

Hyunjin and Minho's moans ring across the room, you walking over to see that they've cum at least once already, considering there's white on the floor and on their cocks.

"How many times did you cum, boys?"

Hyunjin stops bouncing, unintentionally edging Minho and earning a frustrated whine from him.

"I came once, hyung came twice."

"Good boy, Hyunjin. You think you can give me one more? Do you want me to touch you or can you do it?" Your tone is caring as you stroke his plump bottom lip with the pad of your thumb.

"P-please touch me, master…" He whimpers softly, nuzzling into your arm.

"Such a good boy. Of course I will, Jinnie." You turn to Minho with a wickedly biting smile. "And you, you aren't going to cum again. Not in Hyunjin. The next time you'll be coming is in the shower untouched. Got that?"

His breath shudders in a moan as he nods.

Hyunjin bounces up and down again, making Minho cry out in pleasure, tears rolling down his cheeks. You tease the head of his cock, making loud cries of yours and his name fall from his plump lips.

"Hyun-" Minho's eyes roll back, signaling that he'd cum soon. You grab the base of his cock, stopping his impending orgasm and ripping a disappointed groan from him.

Hyunjin finishes with a loud, high-pitched whimper, his heat decreasing and slowly breaking. You coo softly as he pulls off and collapses into your arms. "That's my good boy. You've done so well for me, I'm so proud of you."

He smiles, whispering softly. "T-thank you, master…"

"Of course, sweetheart." You lay him down on the bed and clean both Hyunjin and Felix with a washcloth. The blonde cat hybrid's tail wraps around the black cat hybrid's body, pulling him close and cuddling with him. He turns in his embrace and falls asleep.

"Your turn, kitty."

It's going to be a long night for Minho.

[emeren]

bloodlust ☤ 1

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“The devil and I get along just fine...”

Pairing: Fem!reader x Vampire!Eren 

Word Count: 5.1 k 

Chapter Warnings: Blood, anxiety

Chapter Summary: Reader, a nurse, finds themselves facing a fanged beast, unsure what to make of the world. But this devil with dark hair may not have the intentions you think. 

☤ this work of fiction deals with vampires. in turn, there will be discussions of blood and minimal gore. it will also include nsfw content in the near future. all chapters will be marked appropriately☤

Moonlight soaked the path towards his freedom. It danced and reflected off of the dew coated blades of grass. Each one emulated a life he planned to save, with the destruction of his  people and the protection of the person he cared for most in the world. She had yet to materialize into something more than the soft breeze of a memory.

He was hungry; the tortuous cry of his instinct to ravage told him so. However, years of training and restraint had yielded him more than capable of swallowing his own desire. The one thing he sought most weighed heavier than impotent monstrous actions. For his goal, he could resist the craving to release his sharpened fangs.

He allowed his eyes one last glance over the house he’d called home for the past four years; dark and gloomy against the stormy night sky. Soon, those who’d chained him in shackles and dragged him to the cellar would be amiss in panic. Wrought iron bars that once caged his devilish soul would be found empty. A beast was on the run.

He felt brief sorrow for those he would hurt in the process of securing their freedom from a pained existence. But he’d made up his mind. All that was left to do was to head north.

His nimble hands pulled the dark hood of his coat above his head. He took one deep breath, the entrancing smell of rain and dirt wafting through the air.

North, to the person that occupied his past, present, and future. To freedom.

☤    ☤    ☤

You considered yourself well suited to the role you’d decided to serve for the rest of your life. Time spent meticulously memorizing health patterns and disease characteristics had broadened your sense of confidence. Doubt rarely ever plagued your mind past the childish decision of what to eat for breakfast in the morning.

Nursing had not always been your final destination in life; the unprecedented scared you enough to mark healthcare as a profession to avoid. Losing two parents unexpectedly in high school due to a mysterious illness had been enough to change your once convinced mind.

Your rain jacket was slick with the slight precipitation clouding the late night sky as you entered the hospital locker room -- a weak cup of coffee in hand, marred with a ring of chapstick residue against the lip. Night shifts were often greeted with unrelenting misery on your behalf.

“You look excited to be here,” The familiar tone of your coworker hummed from behind you. There seemed no force strong enough to concur surprise in your unrested eyes. Historia was someone who lacked a certain fear factor in most aspects of her being, anyways.

“I didn’t see you when I came in, Historia,” You answered, eyes glancing over your shoulder to take in the blonde-haired nurse. Despite having walked in the rain the same as you, her demeanor was much more spritely.

She gave you a smile, following you towards your adjacent lockers. “Ah, I came in the back entrance today.”

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who’s working the night shift,” Your half-assed attempt at being friendly mingled with the clammer of your locker. Historia chuckled softly from behind her door.

“I prefer the night shift, actually. Isn’t this your third night on?” She asked. You slipped your wet jacket from your shoulders, shaking it slightly before hanging it in the metal box.

“Yeah, it is. Can’t say I enjoy it as much as you do,” You lightly closed the door, Historia doing the same. Overt kindness wasn’t a trait you claimed when burnt out on work; she knew this and gave you no foul for it.

Her blue eyes crinkled in the ghost of a smile. “Not a creature of the night, hm?”

“I’m no vampire, that’s for sure,” You chuckled. Historia’s smile faltered slightly. It came as no surprise that she was afraid of monsters and ghouls. You decided to change the subject in her favor. “Speaking of, I hear it’s a full moon tonight.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widened, coy smirk wiggling its way back onto her blushed cheeks. Despite your adverse to the unknown, you enjoyed indulging in childish hospital rumors. The notion that weird cases spiked on nights when the moon was full in the sky was a tale as old as time; strange people flooded the hospitals, with even stranger injuries and illnesses. Or so that was what people said, not that you’d ever experienced it yourself. “I wonder if anything crazy will happen tonight.”

“Doubt it,” You stepped aside, allowing her to match your stride as the two of you headed towards the conference room for a briefing before the shift. She hummed in agreement, the rest of the walk done in a comfortable silence.

The room for debriefing was a mundane conference set up. The walls were a bleached white; anatomy posters and warnings about the harmful nature of cigarettes decorating the walls. An oval desk surrounded by blue, plastic chairs took up most of the room. It smelled like microwaved Kraft, courtesy of a nurse scarfing down a last helping before their shift started.

“That’s odd,” Historia frowned, blue eyes tracing the room. Staff sat around in quiet huddles, most silently waiting for the briefing to start. She glanced down at her watch before nudging you in the arm. “Where’s Doctor Smith? We start in two minutes.”

The tall, burly man was never late for a briefing; his stoic nature didn’t allow room for such a lack. He had never given you a reason to doubt his trust, but something about his demeanor made you uneasy. He commanded a room with such conviction that your coworkers fell to his feet with unadulterated respect; you, a mindless sheep following their lead. Rational thought would’ve placed your discomfort on his position of power and his role as your boss. Simply put, however, he gave you the creeps.

The plastic chair skidded against the polished floor as you took your seat at the table beside Historia. The older staff coughed and occasionally grumbled, filling the tired silence with a sense of annoyance. Your blonde coworker sensed your gripe, elbowing you in the ribs and leaving a crease in your lilac scrubs. You suppressed a smile.

“Pardon me,” Doctor Smith’s commanding voice echoed through the room before he stepped in the doorway. Your muscles tensed; back straightening as if to give the illusion that you hadn’t been hunched over, looking exhausted and miserable. His blond hair was perfectly sculpted; not a strand out of place and not a wrinkle in his blue dress shirt. His lab coat was almost a sickeningly bleached titanium. “Sorry for my tardiness; I was dealing with an emergency back home.”

Historia shifted beside you.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” He gave a terse smile before picking his clipboard off of the table and flipping through the papers. “Looks like we’ve got the regular scheduling for this evening. As usual, the night shift staffing is lighter than our other shifts, so remember to be vigilant and take action without being told to.”

You tended to tune out the mundane precautions and warnings that were part of a pre-shift briefing. Outside the window, rain pattered against the glass pane. The shower provided a sense of comfort; rain often preceded a night spent inside, wrapped in blankets with a mug of hot tea. Though your current schedule didn’t allow room for such indulgence, you took a small delight in the weather condition.

Historia bumped your knee with her own under the table. You glanced at your friend, slightly alarmed from your daze. She leaned over, attempting to discreetly whisper in your ear. “He looks distracted tonight, hm? Wonder what that’s about.”

Your eyes glanced at Doctor Smith, who was reading through the clipboard with a staccato like urgency. Not wanting to cause any disturbance, you nodded your head in agreement.

“We’ll follow through with our regular assignments. If you don’t know where you’re located this evening, I suggest checking the bulletin in the locker room. As for this meeting, you’re all free to go,” His blue irises scanned the faces of all the employees, searching for confusion or questions to be answered. You averted your gaze, following suit as the rest of the room erupted in moving chairs and shuffling scrubs.

You already knew where you were working for the night; the same place as the last two, over in the geriatrics wing. This night would be the same as the others, not that you were in any place to be upset about that.

“Y/N!” Historia’s voice called you to look over your shoulder, barely out of the conference room. She had a slimy smile on her face; the kind that reeked of favors and avoidance. You felt the need to control your eyebrow from rising in annoyance. “Can I ask you something?”

You exhaled from your nose. “Shoot.”

“I have a patient in room 702 that I was assigned to,” The slightest batting of her mascara slicked lashes, blue irises working their hardest to win you over. You raised your eyebrows, urging her to continue. The other staff shuffled by you, sparing nosy glances. “I was wondering if you could take it? I’ll work in the geriatrics wing tonight for you.”

You had to give it to the tiny woman; for all she was worth, she was great at getting people to do what she wanted. You valued her responsibility and reliability, and she’d proved to be a friendly presence in the workplace. However, that didn’t stop you from seeing the selfish underbelly of her prosperous actions.

“What’s the patient in for?” You humored her. Even if her request was self-fulfilling, you figured might as well use it to your own advantage. Almost anything beat another night in geriatrics changing diapers and administering pill dosages.

“A blood transfusion,” She responded, smiling softly at you. “I’m not very good with bloody things, you know. Easily squeamish.”

You pretended to ponder whether or not to take her up on her offer. It was an easy choice, really. “Yeah, sure. What blood type are they?”

☤   ☤   ☤

The stand rattled unpleasantly against the tiled ground as you stopped in front of room 702. The thick bag of blood shook slightly from the sudden stop. How Historia had ever become a nurse when grossed out with the concept of blood, you weren’t sure. It seemed that her sweet disposition often aided her in whatever situation she needed to change for the better. You were an adult woman though, so whatever her motivations might’ve been didn’t concern you.

You gave the cart a once over, making sure all the necessary tools and items were there: a needle, an IV, gauze, those sorts of things. Blood transfusions were a typically fussless procedure; tediously watching the red liquid pump itself into the body.

Your knuckles lightly knocked on the door. “Hello, I’m here to give you your blood transfusion!”

Silence, beating through the empty hallway of the hospital. The lights were dimmed and eerily abandoned. You waited for ten seconds before opening the door to the sleepy room.

The heavy door creaked open, revealing he who was to be given blood. Historia had mentioned he was a John Doe, lying unconscious on the bleached sheets. You turned back to grab your cart, not bothering to be quiet. He’d be awake soon enough, anyway.

As you wheeled it in, your back was to the patient. The cart squeaked and rattled, stopping at the foot of the bed. You turned around, ready to rouse him from his slumber.

Beautiful.

You’d had attractive patients before. Both men and women who floated by life with the easy wings of accurately placed facial features to boost them up. A pretty face often had heat rising to your cheeks, but professionalism stopped you from thinking any further. Natural biological responses couldn’t be helped, after all.

Never had a patient left your lips parting in awe, heart drumming up it’s own beat of excitement in your chest. His face was slim; sharp jawline and a large, broad nose peeking out into the air. Pale cheeks barely dusted by the pink of an almost intangible blush. His eyelashes were long and thick, jutting out against the purple hue of his impossibly dark circles. Hair the color of old driftwood swirled and bunched on his pillow. He had to have been one of the most attractive people you’d ever treated, let alone seen.

What color were his eyes? Were they a dark brown, one to match the nature of his hair color? Or were they green, contrasting his pale skin? You began to feel eager to find out, more excited to know and learn as your gloved hand gripped his broad shoulder. You frowned at the frigid temperature of his skin.

“Excuse me, sir,” You gently shook, trying not to give away the way your body was reacting. There was no place for hormonal displays in your line of work, and despite his undeniable beauty, you were determined to remain professional.

His eyelids snapped open with such a speed you had to compose yourself not to trip backwards. Contrary to what you thought, his irises were a pale, almost sickly greyish blue. They held no gleam; no life behind them. Disturbance washed over your brain, warning bells going off in your mind. He looks slightly… feral?

He jolted upwards, confusion knotted on his once peaceful face. You stumbled backwards slightly, hip clipping on the cart.

“Who are you?” His voice was gravelly, as if it hadn’t been used in quite some time. Blue eyes stared at you with such an uncertainty it made your head spin.

“I’m your nurse, I’m here to give you your blood transfusion,” You gestured towards the cart and stand, a red bag hanging from it like a token of peace. Despite his prickly reaction, you weren’t frightened.

“I feel like I’ve met you before,” He said, eyes squinted. Analyzing you, trying to pick apart your being, yet there you stood before him, a marvel to be held. He briefly glanced to the side; not more than a millisecond were his eyes off you before they were back, filled with unadulterated panic. “Where- where is Historia?”

You frowned, a little perturbed. “She asked to swap-”

“I need you to leave, now.” He growled, voice deep and authoritative. You widened your gaze, taken aback by his demanding request. The sheet fell from around his shoulders, bare chest exposed. Large hands raced to his face, hiding the features you’d once considered beautiful. “Get out of here!”

“Are you alright?” You panicked, stepping closer to the bed. His large form began shaking, knees drawing towards his chest from under the blanket. He appeared to be in pain; like a wounded animal.

“Fuck,” He yelled, breathing becoming labored. There wasn’t time to ponder. Was he having a panic attack? Was he going into shock? Questions didn’t need to be asked, you just knew that you needed to act. “I said leave!”

“No, I need to help you with whatever-” His hand shot off of his face, long, black claws sharpening from his fingers. You became fear stricken, his palm connecting with your chest. It sent you stumbling backwards, tripping over the wire to the heart monitor and slamming into the wall with your back. Tendrils of pain clamored up your spine.

“Close your eyes,” He rose from the bed, both hands dropping from his face. You couldn’t see his eyes, fist clutching your scrubs above your heart. Uncertainty. Terror, facing death like this. A monster stood before you, created by the devil himself. Tall, foreboding, chest heaving. His neck snapped upwards; wide, red eyes piercing into your thinly veiled soul. He spoke something like a garbled beast. “Promise me you’ll close your eyes.”

You didn’t respond. There were no words to be spoken. Between his pink lips glinted a pair of large, sharp incisors. “Promise!”

You reverberated with his words, wincing and shutting your eyes involuntarily. He didn’t want you to watch as he slaughtered you. “I-I promise!”

The loud clamor of metal colliding with the polished floor had you breaking your promise mere seconds after it’d been made.

He stood, illuminated by the fluorescent bulbs like an angel ascending to heaven. The bag, once an object you’d believed to be a healing beacon, clutched between clawed hands. His teeth, bare to the world, puncturing the thick plastic as though it were paper.

His adam’s apple bobbed rhythmically as he swallowed mouthfuls of thick, red blood. It was as if he’d been starved; knees buckling and desperate blood sucking so intense that his legs could no longer support his body weight. He knelt on the once clean floor.

The twine that connected your sense of reality and rationale had been pulled taut -- pieces of the frayed string snapping and threatening to drop you into depths unknown. Uncertainty had always been a foreign concept; you’d been given the option to study your circumstance and fully conceptualize it before going head first into a situation.

That’s what had intrigued you about being a nurse; though the job seemed like a bull in a china shop, you’d learned every reason why or how that bull ended up there and what exactly you needed to do to get it out.

You lacked the expertise or even the understanding to handle this particular situation. What studying could’ve been done? Reading horror stories or watching Twilight as a teenager with your friends? Even then, the probability of this happening to you felt like it should’ve been a zero percent chance.

You liked knowing what to do. Thrived on it, actually. This man, tall and dangerous, presented you with no opportunity to know. There was no textbook on how to handle a vampire, as childish as it felt to recognize that that’s what this was.

You’d been so sure. So convinced that there was no possibility of this heinous monster being an actual thing to walk the same crusted earth as you. Yet here he was, dawning the shape of a man and the face of an angel. How could someone so beautiful be so terrifying?

The hospital wall was cold against your back, the distant hammering of an organ that no longer felt placed in your chest rang true against your clenched fist. You felt the chilling call to move, to rise from your place and run. You didn’t know where, but the muscles in your thighs screamed a silent symphony.

He made quick work of the bag, like it was nothing and had never been anything in the first place. Who had donated that blood? They were probably asleep somewhere, lying in a bed and dreaming of a different world. A world where their charitable donation wasn’t being consumed by a devil before your terrified soul.

The red liquid oozed from his lips and dripped onto his barren chest. You hadn’t moved since you’d collided with the wall what felt like an eternity ago. Your ears rung rapidly with the obnoxious blood flow to your overstimulated brain.

Eyes the shade of a blue jay traced from a pair of blood soaked claws up towards your face, following the path of destruction. Though shock and fear reverberated through your every nerve, the softness in his gaze dulled a small part of your terror. He looked guilty, holding his dripping hands in front of his face like he’d just committed murder.

“You promised to close your eyes,” A voice so small, as if he’d known you your whole life and you had just witnessed a character altering situation. Something echoed in the back of his words, something that sounded like resentment. You couldn’t tell if it was directed at your prying eyes or himself.

“I- I didn’t, I mean, I tried not to but,” You were at a loss. A loss for a way to communicate how you were feeling, a loss for sanity in the world. The monster before you scowled, as if scolding a child who’d disobeyed their parent. “What are you?”

He brought his bloody hands to the floor; you noted that the claws were gone. “I figure it’s pretty obvious at this point. Can’t you tell?” He whispered.

“But vampires aren’t-” His steely gaze hardened at your choice of words. “They aren’t real, are they?”

“They are,” He responded, looking at you with such a strong emotion that you shifted uncomfortably against the wall. What was he thinking? Those eyes looked like they were fixed on someone he cared deeply for, not someone he’d met mere minutes ago. “But you weren’t supposed to know that, which is why I asked you not to open your eyes.”

“You started drinking a bag of blood right in front of me!” You whisper-yelled, brows knitting together to display your slight frustration. The wonder and fear still laid active in your chest, but something about him was familiar and comforting, despite his gruesome actions. You couldn’t explain exactly why you knew he would bring you no harm. “Of course I was going to open my eyes. If I’m not supposed to know, why would you do that right in front of me?”

His scowl deepened. “I tried to warn you. I haven’t had any blood in awhile and I lost control of myself.”

“What happens now?” Your question came out smaller than intended, unfamiliarity rising in your abdomen. The thick stench of blood was beginning to make your intestines twist in disgusting unease.

The question sought to strike a chord in the young man’s features; a grim and saddened look swept across his sharp attributes. His hand came up to pinch his temples, unperturbed by the bloody fingerprints left in its wake. “We have to get out of here, and fast. If we don’t, the people who are after me will kill you.”

“Kill me?” The word had a different sense of fear wafting over you; the kind that pricked your eyes with the sensation to shed tears. He looked pained. “I can tell them that I didn’t see anything, I can promise that I never saw you and-”

“It doesn’t work like that,” He snapped, glancing at you with irritation. His harsh tone forced your pleas to die unsaid in your throat. “The people following me aren’t rational. One of them will also be able to tell you’re lying.”

“So then, what am I supposed to do?” You cried, allowing the bottled up and suppressed emotions to spill over the thin wall of resolve that his comforting presence provided. He didn’t flinch but remained in serious tranquility. “I’m supposed to leave here and hit the road with some random man, who is a fucking vampire, and what? Hope for the best?”  

He looked away from you, blood-covered face staring at the hospital bed that he’d once occupied. “It’s my fault you’re stuck in this now. I owe you enough to protect your life as best as I can.”

You were in hysterics. What sort of ultimatum was this? Stay and die or leave and risk dying? Another predicament that couldn’t be solved with the aid of literary education. Resentment was beginning to build in your own chest. Diving into an unexplored depth of the ocean, brimming with creatures and lore that you had never predicted to be real.

“Hey,” You snapped back to reality. The man before you scooted forwards slightly. Though his face was that of a devil, soaked in another’s blood and deathly pale, his movement had your chest tightening in something other than fear. “I won’t let them hurt you. I promise, if you come with me, you’ll be safe until I can get them off our tail. Then I’ll take off and they’ll follow me, leaving you alone.”

Sticky tears trailed down your cheeks, eyes burning. When did you start crying? “How -- how can you be so sure? How can I trust you?”

He was on his hands and knees in front of you now, sharp nose half a foot away from your face. Any call to breathe was put on hold, teary eyes widening slightly at his stare. It was soft and open, trusting in the strangest way. His dark hair hung around his face.

“My goal is to rid the world of demons such as myself. That’s why they’re after me, and why they would take your life to guarantee silence. When I’m finished with what I want to accomplish, I will be dead and so will they. I have nothing to gain by hurting you. I promise to keep you alive long enough to see the end of this.”

Your lips parted in awe. The conviction in his tone was that to lead an entire army into battle; to create religions and cult followings. Blessed be the demon who wished to take down his own kind.

You had spent years convincing yourself to trust in what others told you to follow. Self-intuition wasn’t enough to breed a successful nurse; you needed the expertise of studies and procedures done before you. You required the necessary tools that others had used and approved of. Your heart’s certainty had no place in medicine. It had no place in the tried and true.

The man slowly rose one freezing hand towards your face, apprehensively watching for your reaction. You sat unmoving, owl-eyed. His palm caressed your chin, cold thumb swiping the tear from your cheek, smearing blood in its wake. “Find it in your heart to trust me.”

The conviction of his words rang lightning through your veins, mouth speaking without precedented thought. “Okay.”

He rose from his crouched position, offering a red hand to help you up from against the wall. You shook your head. There had been enough blood sharing for the evening, sanitation crossing your mind as you shakily slid along the rough plaster, bracing yourself to display a toughness that you weren’t sure you contained.

The rule of thumb not to trust those whom you don’t know played a soft melody in your heart. Mothers’ warnings and fathers’ lectures. Apparently all you had been told fell upon deaf ears, clouded with the hazy judgement of a life threatening situation. But in circumstances such as these, did the general rule apply? You were left to ponder.

“Hey, wait,” You frowned, a dumbfounded feeling crossing your mind as the man stepped towards the opposite side of the room. He stopped and turned, sharp jaw jutting against his mane. “What even is your name?”

“Oh,” He turned back towards the other side of the room. You didn’t follow. The door was the opposite direction, so whatever business he had over there did not concern you. “It’s Eren. And you?”

You felt a slight heat rise to your cheeks at the confession of his name. It was beautiful, feeling somehow appropriate for his physical appearance. “It’s Y/N.”

“Ah,” He responded, as if he already knew. You scoffed inwardly at his tone, still anxiously pressed against the wall. His blood stained hand rose to the latch on the window, attempting to open it.

“Why are you opening the window?” You questioned, noticing a beep from out in the hallway. The door stood open, allowing passersby to witness the blood on the floor and your cheek, as well as this man called Eren, who appeared straight out of a horror movie.

Closing the wooden door meant deciding with certainty to trust him; to follow him and hope that whatever tales of murderous vampires he’d shared had been truthful. To step away from the knowledge and the comfort of your current life. It implied that no one would see you in there with him and come to your rescue.

They will kill you.

Your hand gently clicked the heavy door into its place.

Turning back to Eren, you noticed his hand wrapped around the latch to the window. He was frozen in place, watching you make your final choice.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You reiterated. Eren turned back towards the glass. His reflection wavered slightly in the shine.

“This is how we’re getting out of here,” Eren responded, pulling the latch and shoving the window open as far as it would go. It stopped at about two inches, for safety reasons.

Disbelief once again danced across your mind, pulling you into what was beginning to feel like a new equilibrium. “If you’re planning to leap out of that window, it only opens that far.”

He ignored you, bringing his bloodied palms up against the glass. It appeared as though he merely shoved it; so light that it shouldn’t have budged. It shouldn’t have moved at all. The heavy window snapped at its industrialized hinges, pummeling down towards the ground below.

He glanced at you from over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised semi-smugly. You gawked back; simultaneously impressed by his strength as well as put off. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll die if I jump from here,” You scoffed, still not moving from your place. Eren stared back emotionlessly. He stepped towards the bed, reaching beneath it and pulling out what appeared to be a black hooded jacket.

He swung it over his shoulders, pulling the hood above his head. “I know. If you ride on my back, you won’t die.”

“Are you always this mundanely serious about fucking supernatural shit like this?” You spat. There was a warmth beginning to settle in your face as well as your core; heated by the idea of being so close to him.

“Yes,” He retorted, walking towards you so quickly you thought your head would start spinning. “No time to waste with your endless questions.”

He reached down, abruptly swooping you up from behind your thighs, effectively gripping you bridal style.

“Eren, put me down. Put me down!” You started squirming as he thundered towards the open window. You hated heights as much as the next person; they were fine in retrospect, but made you dizzy when in close proximity. Eren seemed unbothered by your quiet cries of protest.

“Eren, I swear to god,” You brought your fist to his broad chest. He ignored you, stepping onto the ledge of the window. Against any better judgement you still retained, your eyes glanced towards the drop. Your stomach sank, becoming a heavy boulder in the bottom of your abdomen. “Fuck, put me down!”

He stared down at you. A gaze so tranquil that the rest of the scene seemed to fade away. You became hyper-aware of his bare chest which you were pressed against; that unfamiliar churning in your core spreading towards your limbs.

“Hold still, or I’ll drop you.”

☤   ☤   ☤

next chapter >>

tagging: @sunshinedragonofthewest​ @ryukatters​

[bowandcurtsey]

How about the BC boys with a s/o who is affraid of storms, like really strong storms? Protective and comforting BC boys are my weakpoint, especially with your texts.

Ahhhh, storms.. I kinda love the, they're therapeutic in their ways. But I do know people that are terrified of them, but nevertheless, we'll always need protective and comforting BC boys, regardless. ⋆ ˚｡⋆˚⸜(♡ ॑ᗜ ॑♡)⸝ ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

Yami | William | Nozel | Fuegoleon x f! reader

Yami Sukehiro

A lightning bolt split in the middle of the night sky, almost breaking it into half itself, the thunder that followed shook even the grounds you were on.

You let out a whimper as you squatted down from where you were, trembling in fright.

Yami knew you were afraid of storms and when he saw the flash of lightning, he started to look for you in the huge base.

He sensed a weak and frightened ki, from one of the hallways in the second floor.

There he found you, crouched beside a pillar, hugging your own small frame, covering your own ears.

"baby." he said softly, so as to not startle you any further. "I'm here."

Strong arms wrapped around your shivering frame, lifting your entire being up as if you weighed nothing.

He brought you back into your shared room, the curtains were drawn so you couldn't see the chaos going on outside. He wrapped a nice blanket around you and pulled you close to his chest.

"how are you so afraid of the storms baby?" a low rumble escaped his throat. You could hear his calm heart beating, and that put your nerves a little as ease .

"I don't know.. They're loud and scary.." you buried further into his huge chest. Yami smelt so fresh and clean like he just came out from the showers; with a tinge of musk and cigarettes.

"heh, you mean you don't find Asta, luck and magna loud and scary, but you find a storm scary?"

Just like that, he made small talks with you until the fierce storm turned into a mere drizzle.

William Vangeance

It was a nice day actually, you even made plans with William after work ends, but the storm really came so suddenly that it caught you so off-guard.

The flash of lightning that made you see whites in that few miliseconds accompanied with the deafening clash of the thunder that followed after was enough to send you hiding under your desk immediately.

Your clumsy actions led to you knocking many things down, alerting William from inside his office to come out to check on the ruckus.

There he found you, whimpering under your desk hugging your knees close to your chest.

"Darling?" he kneeled in front of you, "are you alright?"

You didn't respond and you kept your face hidden in your knees. You felt a huge cloth cover over your frame as a reassuring arm drape over your shoulders.

You took a little peak from over your forearms. William was partially under the desk together with you. He took off his mask and showed to you his bare yet reassuring face. "Hope you don't mind me squeezing together with you love."

You huddled closer to him and he opened his arms to welcome you into his chest.

Another flash of lightning sparked the sky and William quickly covered one of your ears with his hand and pulled you close and tight to his chest. The thunder then ensued didn't sound as loud now that your ears were muffled by William's body and hand.

His other arm wrapped around your frame, as he hummed a gentle melody to calm you down. He continued humming a soothing tune to you as the storm slowly brew past.

Nozel Silva

He was just in his favourite arm chair by the fire place and you were laying on the couch, reading a book. You didn't notice the dark clouds looming by.

When the first blaze of lightning flashed through the room you jumped up from where you were laying and gave out a scream.

Nozel glanced over towards your direction and saw you huddling on the sofa covering your ears, your eyes shut tightly. He came to sit by your side, careful not to startle you.

He gently wrapped his arms around you, gentle yet assuring, and in one swift move, he pulled you into his lap. He gently pulled your hands away from your ears and leaned your head into his chest.

"Love, this storm too scary for you?" he kissed the top of your head and stroked your back. Your tensed muscles relaxed at his tender assuring touch. You nodded your head.

With a wave of his hand, he used his magic to close the window and draw the curtains. He put a record on his gramophone and played some music.

The sound of the storm could barely be heard now that the thick curtains that Nozel ordered just for this occasion would not let a sparkle of lightning come through and the gramophone drowned out the rumbling of the thunder.

You heaved a sigh of relief in your man's arms. "Thank you love," you mumbled into his chest.

He picked up your book and passed it to you, "you can continue your reading, I'm here my dearest."

Fuegoleon Vermillion

For the sake of the fic, just take it that projectors were already available in their era, okay? haha I believe it's actually called "magic lantern" or "episcope" But for the sake of convenience and understanding, let's call it projector. hehehe cheers.

Salamander growled at the looming clouds and flashes of thunders in the skies. The fire spirit wasn't too fond of storms as well.

"Are you alright y/n?" your boyfriend asked while he was examining the weather by the windows. He only turned around when you didn't respond after awhile.

You were not there on the couch that you were in awhile ago.

The crimson lion captain sighed, he knew you were afraid of storms and you'd hide whenever there was one.

He opened the door to the closet that you always hid in.

"Honey, you can't come hiding here whenever there's a storm.." he extended his hand to you.

"yes I can. Is the storm over yet?" You let out a squeal as you heard a rumble of the thunders again. You quickly brought your hands up to cover your ears.

"Come love, I'll bring you somewhere."

You took his hand and he carried you bridal style down to the castle's basement. He opened the door to a room and your eyes widened in surprise.

The room had huge fort and projector, lots of cushion, beanbags and blankets. It had books and films on the shelves of great variety and genres, from romance to comedy.

"Fue, what is this?" you asked in awe.

"A little cozy room for you love," he hummed as he carefully let you down, "for when the storms come and you need to hide. You'll be all safe and cozy here."

Salamander sauntered in and lit up the fireplace, immediately giving warmth to the room. He lay down and made himself comfortable on this huge carpet by the fireplace.

You both chuckled at salamander's actions.

"You like it, my love?" he tucked a stray hair behind your ears.

"I-" you took one look around the entire room again, everything was meticulously decorated for you, just for your fear of storms, by your beloved man, you felt your heart swell with so much warmth and fluff. You couldn't help but wrapped your arms around the man beside you, "I love it, my dear. And I love you."

-end-

EEEEKKKKK. I hope this was okay~ I tried thinking of different scenarios so I hope this kept you guys fluffy!

[pixy-stix-art]

Can I have hugs and maybe noms I'm really touch starved- anxious anon

Same anon. I almost cried the other day because my cat cuddled with me. Anyway….here’s a unedited really soft touch starved fic for ya. I’m surprised I haven’t written something like this before.

Finally safe

(Warnings: safe vore, talk of past trauma)

———————————————————————

Ranboo sighed as he huddled up in his bed in the walls. The weather was getting cold again. And even with all the extra blankets he had now, it was still too cold. He shivered wrapping the blankets around himself.

Ranboo wanted to be warm. And he knew he could ask Tubbo for help. But he already asked for so much, he didn’t want to be a burden. He had always been a burden to others. The other borrowers he had been raised with had made that clear. He was born differently, with half black and half white hair. Along with odd black spots on his skin. He was different and that was bad.

He frowned remembering all the harsh words and nights spent alone as a kid. After his parents had their accident, he was left to fend for himself. Never getting the hugs or affection he wanted so bad. He had gone this long without any, he didn’t need them. Once he was claimed to be old enough he was kicked out of the colony. He found a good home, but was then found by a cat. He moved again and found Tubbo’s home.

He was injured from his run in with the cat and passed out in the middle of Tubbo’s floor. He was lucky Tubbo didn’t step on him. He was definitely surprised to wake up, let alone wake up to a young goat hybrid hovering over him looking worried. He was scared but soon learned to trust Tubbo. Even after Tubbo scared him really bad that one time Tubbo’s dad almost found him….. that had definitely not been fun.

Ranboo did his best to be well behaved and and always laugh and joke around with Tubbo. He didn’t want him to regret helping him if he realized how broken Ranboo was.

Ranboo gave up trying to get warm sitting in his bed. He wrapped a blanket around himself and walked down the chilly, dark and dusty path to Tubbo’s room. If anything he could distract himself from the cold by talking to Tubbo.

He stumbled out of the small exit he had carved out underneath the bed in Tubbo’s room. He could already feel it was warmer. He walked out from underneath the bed looking for Tubbo.

“Tubbo?” He called out to the hybrid.

Tubbo’s was working on home work at his desk when he heard his name be called. He smiled recognizing the voice. Ranboo. He turned around to look down at the ground to his his little friend wrapped in a blanket.

“Hey, what’s up?” He smiled happily. He wanted to scoop up the borrower, but ranboo had said he doesn’t like being touched. But Tubbo thought otherwise with how Ranboo leaned into him anytime he did pick up the borrower.

“Not a lot.” Ranboo said walking closer.

“I’m just doing homework if you want to sit on the desk while I work?” He asked.

“Yeah. That works.” Ranboo nodded.

“Want a ride?” Tubbo hesitantly offered his hand to Ranboo.

Ranboo was going to say no but, he could feel the warmth comes off his hand. Maybe he could get a ride just this once. “Ok.” He nodded stepping onto Tubbo’s hand.

Tubbo was pleasantly surprised when ranboo stepped into his hand. He couldn’t help but notice how chilly Ranboo was though. He picked up and set back in this chair. He didn’t want to set down Ranboo with how cold he was.

“Umm… Tubbo?” Ranboo asked when he wasn’t set down like he thought he would be.

“Why are you so cold?” Tubbo asked getting to the point.

“W-what?” Ranboo stuttered. He shook his head. “No, I’m not cold.” He tried to hide his shivers.

“I can feel how cold you are. And you’re shivering….” Tubbo frowned.

“I- I guess it’s a little chilly…” Ranboo shrugged trying to play it off. “You don’t have to worry about me though.” He smiled.

“But I am worried, why wouldn’t I be worried about you?” Tubbo questioned.

“Because…..” Ranboo trailed off. They where friends why shouldn’t Tubbo worry? Is that what friends where supposed to do?

Tubbo frowned softly. “You ok boss man?” He asked gently bringing him closer to be held.

“I- I don’t know…. You shouldn’t have to worry about me. I probably already take up to much for your time…”

“Take up my time?” Tubbo shook his head. “No, that’s-” he shook his head. Is that really how Ranboo feels? “You could never take up my time Boo, I love spending time with you.”

Ranboo paused looking up at Tubbo. “Really? I’m annoying and useless though…” He mumbled.

“What?! Who told you that?” Tubbo curled up his fingers at the idea of someone saying such hurtful and untrue things to his friend.

“My colony, the other borrowers I lived with. I was different and I couldn’t borrow the right way…. So I was useless.” He said like it was a fact.

“You are not useless Ranboo….” He said sadly gently using a finger to pet Ranboo’s head. “And whatever else those people said to you, it isn’t true.”

Ranboo crumbled as Tubbo put a finger on his head. The soft pressure and warmth made him melt. He looked down at his hands realizing Tubbo really and truly cared about him. That fact made him start sobbing. But for once, it was happy tears.

Tubbo panicked as Ranboo began to cry. Had he hurt him?! “Boo?” He softly asked holding him closer to his face. He jumped a little as Ranboo latched onto his face giving him a hug. He gladly cupped his hands over his back hugging him back. He used his thumb to rub Ranboo’s back as he sobbed.

“It’s ok, I got you now. Your ok.” He mumbled softly trying to comfort his smaller friend.

Ranboo hugged Tubbo tight. He had needed this so bad. A hug, someone to talk to, and a real friend. He slowly calmed down. He pulled away from Tubbo. “S-sorry…” He mumbled.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Tubbo said.

“Oh….” Ranboo blinked looking at Tubbo. He almost said sorry again.

“It’s ok.” He smiled still holding Ranboo close.

Ranboo sighed leaning back in Tubbo hand. He let himself curl up enjoying the warmth.

“You are still cold though.” He curled his fingers around Ranboo.

“Better then before.” He replied.

“I still need to get you warmer Boo.” He shook his head. He hummed thinking of a easy way to keep him warm.

Ranboo didn’t want to be alone right now. And he just wanted comfort and warmth from Tubbo. He frowned getting a idea. Would Tubbo even be ok with that?

“You got a idea?” Tubbo asked seeing the look on Ranboo’s face.

“Kinda? I don’t know if it’s a good one though.” He shrugged.

“Well, what is it?” Tubbo asked.

“Um… you remember how you hide me from your dad that one time?” He said hoping Tubbo would catch on.

Tubbo froze realizing what Ranboo was suggesting. “Are you sure about that? You where so scared before.”

“I was scared because you just ate me. But now I know it’s safe and I trust you.” He smiled softly.

“Aw, you trust me that much?” Tubbo grinned. He was glad Ranboo wasn’t scared of the idea anymore.

“I do.” He giggled. “Plus it’s warm and I’ll be able to rest while you work.”

“True…” Tubbo nodded. “So you really want to do this?”

“Yeah I do.” He said making his decision.

“Ok, just tell me if you want out at any point.” Tubbo said before carefully placing Ranboo in his mouth closing his teeth behind him with a click.

Being gentle placed in was definitely better then how he was shoved in before. He smiled feeling the warmth from Tubbo. He was so focused on the warmth he didn’t panic like he thought he would.

Tubbo gently licked over Ranboo feeling just how cold the little borrower had been. It was like sucking on a ice cube. He slowly tilted his head back and swallowed Ranboo.

Ranboo froze as gravity shifted and he slipped back into Tubbo’s throat. He struggled a little but forced himself to be still not wanting to hurt Tubbo. He soon slipped into Tubbo’s stomach. He went completely limp at the feeling. He was surrounded by soft muscle gently hugging him as he leaned back. It was a amazing feeling.

Tubbo sighed as he felt Ranboo slip into his stomach. He pressed a hand to where he was. “You ok?” He asked making sure Ranboo was alright.

“Yeah….I’m ok.” He replied. He was getting sleepy from being so cozy. He hadn’t been able to really feel what it was like in here before, he had passed out from his panic. But now he was calm and finally warm.

“Ok, just making sure. I’m going to keep working. Let me know when you want out.” He really hoped Ranboo would want to stay for a while. He liked having him so close and safe.

“Mmhmm…” He hummed snuggling against Tubbo more. He didn’t have to worry about anything in here. He could just sleep and not wake up worrying about bugs or the cold. He was safe. With that thought he finally was able to sleep.

Tubbo continued to do his homework and smiled softly feeling Ranboo get comfortable. His small weight got heavier as he fell asleep tucked away deep inside where he could keep his friend safe. Tubbo hoped they would do this more now.

[knowltonsrangers]

chance

[Nathan Hale x reader]

Sometimes, it comes in random fleeting passes of intense questions, basically interrogating yourself if you handled something the right way.

Other times, it’s when you know you haven’t. Your phone continues to buzz, lighting up and illuminating the dark bedroom you’ve cornered yourself into. Watching the messages filter in, you hardly move an inch, feeling the itch of brimming tears and the tension gather in your shoulders.

Just stop.

Make it stop.

Please.

So you switch the phone to silent, grabbing it forcefully off the comforter and stomping into the living room. Crossing the floor, you peer around until your eyes fall on Nathan’s desk.

Sliding his top drawer open, you deposit your phone inside and slam it shut, retreating back to your room in a flurry of mixed anger and confusion.

When Nathan returns home, he simply thinks you’re at the library, or enjoying your day off elsewhere. He heaves a sigh, throwing his bag on his desk chair, noticing the tiniest bit of light filtering through his cracked desk drawer.

Odd.

He thinks, trying to think back to when he’s ever opened the top left drawer last. It’s full of rubber bands and thumb tacks, nothing that he would need on a daily basis.

So curiosity getting the better of him, he slides the drawer open and is perplexed to find your phone.

“y/n?”

Nathan moves quickly, snatching the device and stuffing it into his pocket, sock-clad feet sliding across the floor as he pushes onwards to your room.

“Where are you? What’s going on?”

Fear rises in his stomach, hastily reaching out for the knob, yanking on it with two hands.

It moves, but does not open.

“Since when do you have a lock?!”

He’s just about ready to throw his shoulder through the door, stepping back to get a good running start, when he hears the door open.

“I don’t,”

You say, staring up at him under thick lashes, huddled under a blanket that wraps around your entire body. Nathan breathes a sigh of relief, but the instant it leaves his lips, he’s propping his hands on his hips, trying to figure out what’s happened to you.

“I think the door was stuck…”

You’re speaking once more, trying to hide the warble in your voice, and as much as you try, Nathan catches it.

“Who’s hurt you?”

It’s a three word sentence —four, if you’re likely to count the contraction—and it makes the sob you had been suppressing come to life, hand reaching up to smack your lips with a shaky palm.

“My y/n, my absolute world, who has hurt you?”

In a display of strength that he in no way hides, Nathan swoops forward and scoops you into his arm, blanket and all. Holding you close, he tucks loose strands of hair behind your ear until you begin to speak.

“I thought I made the right choice,”

You cry, leaning into his warm palm with your rosy cheeks, sputtering out your woes.

“Is this about work?”

Nathan knows all to well about working his bum off, and he knows that you’ve been suffering after quitting one of your two jobs. At a place so crummy, no wonder the people who worked there were all the same.

He watches as you nod glumly.

“They been bothering you about putting your notice in?”

You bob your head once more.

“Love, do yourself a favor, for me, okay?”

Leaning towards your bleary eyes, he gently rests his forehead against yours, close enough that you can catch the beginning of his scar, and his piercing azure eyes.

“You don’t owe them anything. They can say all the nasty things they’d like, because no matter what they say, it doesn’t make it right. Delete all those messages. They aren’t even worth it for you to glance at.”

Nathan was always right. He always was, and no matter in moments of deep despair when you just wanted to push everyone away—his placid voice always beckoned you to do as he said.

“I can’t stand the sight to see you cry,”

He swipes a thumb across one of your tear-stained cheeks, nose brushing against yours in a beat of silence.

“Thank you.”

You whisper, hoping that it’s enough to convey how much he has helped you over the course of the past five minutes.

“No, no. I only take payment in smiles.”

As if you could sense it, his hand comes to your stomach, running cold fingers down your torso and hips.

Unable to contain it, you burst into a fit of laughter, twisting and turning to try and release from his hold. If anything, he squeezes tighter, jostling you as his flaxen hair bounces slightly to fall in front of his face.

“There’s my y/n.”

He exhales slowly, running the pad of his thumb along your cheek once more, sliding away any straggling tears.

“We’ll get through it together, just like we always do.”

And like always; you believe him.

[a/n: whehdjnejek I just want to be held by this man is that too much to ask?? 😞✊]

[spencerreidslove]

Hi! Do you know that one episode where the unsub froze his victims to death? I think they were meant to survive to join a cult or something like that, but yeah. I was wondering if you could write something like that (doesn’t necessarily have to be based in that ep) but the reader is kidnapped or something by the unsub and he starts to freeze her or idk and then the team arrives? Could it also be Platonic!Bau x reader, but spencer and reader r together? I hope that made sense. Thank you!!

A/N: I tried to stick to this episode as much as I could, but it’s been a minute since I’ve seen the episode so I probably went off from the actual plot. Also, sorry this took me 80 years to write!

————

Spending nearly a week in some random town in the middle of nowhere, Ohio was not how you wanted to spend time.

But that came with the job. The BAU has orginally been called in due to bodies that had been frozen to death. No new bodies had turned up and the team was facing a dead end.

You placed a hand on your husband’s shoulder as the rubbed his eye so hard you thought it might pop out.

“Spence, honey, look away from the board for five minutes.” You said.

“I need to finish this geographical profile.” Spencer muttered.

“Spencer. It’s nearly midnight, Hotch told everyone to go to the hotel nearly an hour ago.” You said, leaning into Spencer’s side and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“You go ahead. I’ll stay and work on the profile.” Spencer said.

“What did you say when you married me?” You asked.

“Huh?”

“Spencer, what did you say when you married me?”

“Lots of things. Be more specific.”

“About always being there. Be there by coming back to the hotel.”

Spencer laughed a little bit. “I think you’re twisting that a little bit. Look, go ahead and I’ll be there within half an hour.” Off your look he said: “If not, then I will owe you. Seriously.”

“Fine. Half an hour. I’ll be counting.” You said, grabbing your bag. You waved at Spencer as you made your way out of the precinct.

The hotel was nearby so you decided to walk. You were almost at the hotel when you heard someone call out from behind you.

“Excuse me? Ms?” The voice called out.

“Yeah?” You asked, turning around. Years at the FBI had made you cautious, so you kept your distance and crossed your arms so your hand was over your gun.

“Can you point me in the direction of 48th street?” The man asked.

You made a rookie mistake. You turned away from the man and looked at the road behind you. “I think it might be-“

You felt a sharp pain in between your shoulder blades; maybe a needle. Before you could figure out what it was your vision started to cloud and you felt yourself falling.

“Spencer.” You muttered before your eyes closed.

-

“Kid...Kid!” Morgan shook Reid’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t sleeping!” Reid cried, shaking himself awake. Morgan laughed. “Sure you weren’t. Did you sleep here?”

“I must’ve.” Spencer said, looking around at the table in front of him. “I was working in the geographical profile. I fell asleep.”

The rest of the team funneled into the room, and Spencer excused himself to the bathroom to splash some water on his face.

When he returned to the room, something was off. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked.

“We thought you knew.” JJ said.

“No, she left for the hotel late last night. I stayed here.” Spencer said.

“She wasn’t in the lobby this morning.” Emily said.

At that very moment, a uniformed officer walked past the room, holding a bag that looked very familiar.

“Sir.” The unie said, sticking his head in the room to talk to the detective in charge. “I was out canvassing and I saw this bag on the ground. You said it’s by where this guy’s looking.”

He held out the bag, handing it to the detective. The detective opened it, looking through the wallet. “This purse belongs to one...Y/N Reid.”

The world was falling from below Spencer’s feet. He must’ve fallen back into a chair because the next thing he knew he was sitting with his head between his legs.

“Breathe, Spencer, you need to breathe.” JJ said, rubbing small circles on his back.

“I-she was supposed to go to the hotel-and she-“ Spencer knew he was hyperventilating but he couldn’t stop.

“Reid, we’re going to find her but in order for that to work you need to calm down first.” Morgan said.

“I can’t-she...she’s gone.”

-

Cold.

It was the only thing you could feel. Maybe Spencer had turned the thermostat down again and had taken all the blankets with him.

“Spence...blankets. Hand ‘em over.” You mumbled, rolling on your side.

You tried to reach out a hand to grab them, but you couldn’t move your arm.

You furrowed your brows as you slowly opened your eyes. Then you remembered. You weren’t at home in bed with Spencer.

Man. Needle. Falling.

The thoughts came back to you slowly. When you finally opened your eyes you looked around, seeing you were in some sort of dark room.

It was freezing.

“Freezing...” you said. “Oh shit.”

You rolled your head back and looked down at yourself. Your hands and feet your tied together, explaining why you couldn’t move them.

The door to the freezer opened. “Good, you’re awake. It’s always so much more fun when they’re awake.” The same man who got you said.

“Let me go.” You said.

“No.”

“Look, you don’t want to do this. I’m in the FBI. You know what will happen if you kill me?”

“I know. I only took you because you’re a Fed.”

The man stepped closer to you. Grabbing you roughly by the rope, he made you sit up. He punched you. And then again. And then again.

-

“He has to have some sort of industrial freezer.” Hotch said, putting his hands on the desk.

Spencer still hadn’t fully calmed down. He had now swung the way of throwing himself into work. He stared at the same geographical profile he had been working on the night before.

Every time he looked at it, all he could think about was you telling him to come back to the hotel with you. And him refusing.

“Kid. Step away from the map. Let someone else take a look for a moment.” Morgan said.

“I can’t do that.” Spencer said.

“Fine. Then come with me to eat something. You need it.”

“I can’t do that either. Y/N is missing, so I’m not going to stop working.”

Morgan left his side for a moment. Then, he returned and took the pen out of Spencer’s hand.

“Hey!” Spencer called.

“You can get this back in five minutes. Take a break, pretty boy.” Morgan said.

Spencer sighed and followed Morgan out into the hallway twoards a vending machine.

The pair stood in silence for a moment. “It’s my fault.” Spencer muttered.

“Reid, what?” Morgan said.

“Y/N-she kept telling me to come back to the hotel. I said she should go ahead without me and I’d be there in half an hour. If I had just gone with her she wouldn’t have been taken.”

“Spencer, you can’t blame yourself for that. If you would’ve been there, you might’ve both been taken. You you could have been killed. We can’t go back and change last night, but we can work to find this son of a bitch. And to do that you need to be present, not nearly passing out.”

Spencer sighed and took the bag of chips Morgan was holding out to him.

A few minutes later they returned to the room, where the group was huddled around a table.

“We might have something.” Hotch said.

“Garcia, taking into account Y/N’s abduction site, how many people in that area have industrial freezers?” Rossi asked.

“Just one. A Stewart Hull. Sending his home and work to you now. Go get out girl back.” Garcia said.

-

You had been left in the freezer alone again. The man had punched you several more times and turned the temperature down. You were 90% sure there were icicles on your eyelashes.

The door opened again. “Well, Little Ms. Fed, our time has been fun. But I think it’s time to end it.” The man said. He was wearing a full snow suit and was holding some sort of machine.

“Time for the freeze.” He said.

This is it. You thought. And I’m never going to see Spencer again.

You closed your eyes, preparing for the cold to hit you. But, just as you thought it was going to happen, you heard a familiar voice.

“Stewart Hull, step away from the freezer.”

JJ? You thought. You opened your eyes again to see her standing across from the man.

Afterwards, when asked to recall what happened, you won’t remeber much, other than the feeling of cold, the man yelling, and then gunshots.

Soon, JJ was beside you, calling for a medic, and untying you.

“Y/N, it’s going to ok.”

“Cold...” your teeth chattered. “Spence...”

“He’s here, he’ll be here any moment, just hold on.”

Then the cold took you.

-

You woke up to beeping. As you’d lowly opened your eyes, you realized you were in the hospital.

You blinked a few times and turned your head to the side, spotting Garcia sitting in a chair next to your bed, typing away on a computer.

“Penelope.” You muttered.

She looked up from her computer, jumping out of the chair.

“Mrs. Dr.! Don’t ever scare me like that again!” She cried, wrapping you in one of her signature Penelope Garcia hugs.

“How long have I been out?” You asked.

“2 days. They said you had early stages of frostbite.” Garcia said.

“Spencer?” You asked, looking around your hospital room.

“The Boy Wonder is down the hall getting some food. Morgan practically had to drag him down there. He hasn’t left you.”

“Could you got get him please?” You asked.

“Y/N?” Your husband’s voice said from behind Garcia.

“I’ll give you two a minute.” She said, leaving the room.

Spencer looked like a mess, you probably did too. “Hey.” You said.

Spencer dropped his bag and came up beside the bed, wrapping his arms around you. “Please don’t ever leave me again.”

“Not if I can help it.” You said.

“I’m so sorry.” Spencer said, his shoulders shaking a little bit.

“For what?” You said, holding him tighter. He was crying, you realized.

“I should’ve left with you.” Spencer said.

“Never mind that. We’re both here now.” You said.

You both say like that for a while, Spencer and you embracing.

“However, I think you were more than half an hour late to the hotel, so you do still owe me.” You said, trying to make a joke.

“I owe you for the rest of my life.” Spencer said.

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Tags! (Open)

@rexorangecouny @magnificentmgg @zhuzhubii @just-damn-bored @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @andreasworlsboring101 @bxtchboy69 @atomicmassofcobalt @rachelxwayne

[benedictscanvas]

etched in permanent marker - spencer reid x reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: This is so fluffy it might make you smile, fair warning

A/N: Well, I worked super hard on this today because my love @justkurotingz​ requested it and I couldn’t bear to leave her waiting! Also, I just ADORE this idea of hers and couldn’t wait to get started. Thank you for all your wonderful feedback and for inundating me with requests! I will get through them all as quickly as I can. Enjoy lovelies :)

---

(ways to say i love you) number 12 = “take my jacket, it’s cold outside & number 14 = “can I have this dance?”

“You just add a sprinkle of turmeric, Julie, it’ll change your life!”

There was a chorus of tinkling laughter around the group, and you joined in as best you could even though you felt like you were slowly withering away. Strauss had waved you over to this little circle when you had accidentally arrived much earlier than your team had agreed upon, and now you were stuck here until they arrived. Strauss insisted as she steered you through the crowds that were beginning to form in the hall that these would be vital contacts as you worked your way through the ranks at the bureau.

If these were the contacts you would need, then you didn’t think you wanted to make your way through the bureau in the first place. You were perfectly happy with the BAU, regardless.

There was suddenly a hand on your shoulder and you turned to shrug off whatever FBI hotshot wanted your attention now, but relaxed when you saw Morgan at your side.

“I’m so sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but I just need to whisk Y/N away for a moment,” he smiled that charming smile, before turning you away from them without giving them time to respond and leading you with his hand still on your shoulder towards the rest of the team, whispering as you went, “You owe me one.”

“I definitely do,” you replied readily, with a little chuckle, “You saved my ass back there, I think I was about to fall asleep on the spot.”

Derek laughed as you both arrived at the little circle the BAU team had made upon arrival.

“Y/N!” Emily greeted you with a hug, “You look incredible! You were here early, I assume?”

“I was,” you groaned, “I didn’t notice how early I was when I came in.”

“Strauss caught you?” Hotch asked, a small smirk on his face as you nodded, “Bad luck.”

“Yeah, well, I’m where I belong now,” you beamed, “And the plan still stands right? Form a circle for the night and not speak to anyone else?”

“That’s certainly my plan,” Rossi said with a grimace as he glanced around the room, already sipping a drink even though you had no idea where he got it from, “You’re the only people I can tolerate in this room.”

“We’re glad you tolerate us, Dave,” you said, making everyone laugh, before you noticed a specific absence from the group that you should have noticed sooner, “Wait, where’s Spencer?”

“We assumed he’d arrive with you,” JJ said pointedly, raising her eyebrows and you pressed your lips together to suppress your grin at her words. You and Spencer were still a relatively new item, but the feelings you had for each other were anything but new. The team had been invested in you being together for years. So had you, if you were honest.

“He offered to pick me up, but I decided it wouldn’t look great to everyone else who was here,” you said shrugging, checking the door in the hopes of seeing him arriving. He must be late.

“Since when have you cared what these people think of you?” Derek asked, confused, as Emily nodded her agreement. You rolled your eyes.

“I don’t, trust me,” you said grimly, “But I also can’t be bothered with the questions. You know what some of them are like.”

“What some of who are like?” a voice came from your beside your ear and you turned to see the only missing piece in the circle, your face brightening of its own accord. You wrapped your arm around his back lightly, not enough to draw attention to the two of you and pressed a kiss to his cheek in greeting. He was grinning already.

“You look handsome, Doctor,” you said teasingly, straightening his bowtie one hand, the other still resting on his back as you shuffled to allow him into your closed off circle in the corner of the large room. He always looked smart, but you weren’t sure you had ever seen him in an actual tuxedo before. This event was far too fancy for both of your tastes, but you couldn’t deny that it was a silver lining seeing him all dressed up. “And you look beautiful,” he murmured softly, looking down at you before his eyes met yours with a newfound glint in them, “I think red is my favourite colour on you.”

You tried not to look too pleased with his compliment, instead just looking away bashfully and squeezing his arm before returning both hands to your sides again. You had maybe worn the floor-length strappy red number for his benefit. When you returned your focus to your team, suddenly aware of their presence once again, all you saw were amused smiles on their faces and a very large grin on Garcia’s as she nudged Morgan beside her repeatedly.

“Where’d you get your drink, Dave?” you asked, in a thinly veiled attempt to change the subject which of course your extremely accomplished profiling friends saw right through. Luckily, they were willing to switch topics too, as Dave waved down one of the waiters and everyone grabbed their drinks from the tray.

You talked about every topic under the sun, except from work, which Emily swiftly banned once Hotch had begun speaking about your latest case. JJ and Hotch talked about raising their boys, Emily and Morgan had an argument that you couldn’t quite work out the origin of whilst you, Dave, Spencer and Garcia talked about what books you had been reading (or in Dave’s case, writing) recently.

When Garcia began asking Dave about his experiences with crazy fans and you and Spencer were merely listening, you felt his hand on your back and his breath on your ear.

“You want to get some fresh air?” he asked lowly and you merely nodded as the two of you excused yourselves and ignored any knowing looks from the rest of your team. Spencer’s hand on the small of your back led you through crowds that had multiplied significantly over the last hour. You hadn’t even noticed how many people were in this room, having been so wrapped up in your own team and avoiding everyone else, but now that you had noticed you were glad to be heading out for a little while.

Just as you and Spencer made it outside and the cool air hit your bare arms, he was shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it around your shoulders.

“Take my jacket, it’s cold outside,” he said kindly and you looked up at him with grateful eyes, adjusting the jacket. It swamped your shoulders luckily, and there was no chance of it slipping off. Now that you were outside, you grabbed hold of his hands and linked your fingers together, laughing as he swung your arms between the two of you as you took the few steps down from the building, until you were stood in the car park.

“Look,” you whispered, pointing upwards as you stared at the map of stars above your head, twinkling amongst the beautiful darkness. There wasn’t a time in your life that hadn’t been made better by a blanket of stars in a clear night’s sky.

“I didn’t realise we’d been here so long,” he mused, staring up just like you, pulling you into his side a little so that you and your jacket covered arm huddled against his sleeve. When you took your eyes off the stars and looked at him, the awe in his eyes brought out the awe in your own, but yours was directed at him. Always at him.

“Hey,” you said softly to get his attention, and he gave it instantly, looking down on you with soft eyes and a smile that warmed you more than any jacket ever would, “Can I have this dance?”

His brow furrowed and he tilted his head at you.

“What dance?” he asked genuinely, looking around the two of you, “Y/N, we’re in a parking lot.”

“Can’t you hear it?” you asked right back, encouraging him to strain, “There’s always music around if you listen hard enough.”

He looked even more confused at that statement.

“I’m not sure that’s strictly true, angel,” he said, clearly unsure but you simply let go of his hand and turned to face him properly. You slipped your arms into the sleeves of his jacket properly before running your hands up his arms and winding them around his neck.

“Just-” you sighed contently as his hands found your waist, arms wrapping around you just like they were meant to, “Dance with me anyway? Music or not?”

“You know I’ll do whatever you ask of me, right?” it was a rhetorical question, one that only made you pull him closer and press your cheek to his chest, listening to the slightly unsteady beat of his heart. It made you smile, a little proud smile that you were the reason his heart was beating faster than usual. Yours was too, but he couldn’t hear it and you were thankful. If he knew just how much of an effect he had on you, just how much he meant to you, you weren’t sure how he would take it.

You loved him. Naturally. You hadn’t told him yet, not because you didn’t want to say it first, or because you were scared he wouldn’t return the sentiment but mainly just because it was too early to be saying such things in any normal relationship. But when had your relationship with Spencer ever been normal?

It hadn’t been normal when he span you around in his desk chair at work wildly when it was just the two of you left in the office. It hadn’t been normal when he fell asleep with his head on your shoulder and you had gotten so excited that he had become so comfortable with you that you nearly cried. It hadn’t been normal when he kissed you out of the blue on a case just because you’d made an incredible breakthrough and then instantly looked like he’d made a horrible mistake.

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves,” you said as you swayed together, still pressed against his chest with his chin resting on the top of your head gently, “William Shakespeare.”

“You know, that’s actually a misquote of Shakespeare,” he replied and you laughed into him, the feeling reverberated around his chest and leaving butterflies in its wake.

“Pretty misquote, though.”

“Yeah, it is pretty,” he agreed, moving his hands up from your waist and pulling your arms from around his neck, holding them both in his hands, “Not as pretty as you.”

He let go of one of your hands and held his arm up, laughing as you caught his drift and twirled underneath it, then returned to his arms like you’d never left.

With some coordination you didn’t really know he had, he span you out and away him, until you were stood at arms’ length to each other and staring into each others’ eyes, laughing the whole time, before he span you back into him, landing with your back to his chest. You returned to the swaying, with his arms wrapped around your waist and your hands resting on his arms as you closed your eyes and leaned your head back onto him.

“I love you, Spencer,” you said, sounding like you were in a dream, which part of you thought you might be. You never thought you’d say it first. There was a long drawn out silence and you panicked. Maybe you shouldn’t have said it first. Maybe Spencer wasn’t quite ready for you to love him yet.

Before you panicked for too long, which he could feel in the way you clutched his arms a little tighter, he turned you around on your heel so you were facing him and wrapped his arms tight around your waist, bringing you chest to chest and your feet almost off the floor.

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he mumbled, stealing a kiss, “I love you, angel. There’s no one else I’d dance in a parking lot with.”

“I know,” you giggled, leaning up to kiss him again, hands in his hair. He picked you up properly, a little surprised noise escaped which he swallowed with his kiss, pulling you as close as he could. When he set you back on your feet, everything felt like jelly and you were glad that he kept his tight grip on your waist.

“Any chance we can join you?”

It was Morgan. You looked over your shoulder, seeing as Spencer wasn’t letting go of you anytime soon and saw the entire team stood there, looking at the two of you with love in their eyes and, in JJ’s case, tears in their eyes as well. You shook your head at her as you laughed and she wiped them away with a laugh of her own.

“In our embrace?” you asked, eyebrows raised, “That would be a no.”

Morgan rolled his eyes fondly at you but Garcia took her phone out of her pocket and pressed a button. Soon, some smooth music began playing out of the phone speaker, which she turned up to the max volume and put in Morgan’s back pocket.

“Could we join the dancing then?” she asked excitedly and when you nodded, she grabbed Morgan in an instant and pulled him into a dance, slapping him playfully when he mouthed for you and Spencer to help him. He got into it quickly though, spinning Garcia around and laughing when she squealed with delight. You rested a hand on Spencer’s chest and leaned your head against his as you watched your friends.

Dave offered a hand to Emily, which she took with a teasing curtsy and they ended up in a very traditional waltz position which made Spencer giggle and you swatted him to stop him, whispering that it was cute.

Hotch was difficult to persuade, but JJ practically pulled him over to the others until he relented, and when he did, only you and Spencer saw his secret smile as he swayed with JJ. The two of you watched your friends for a few seconds, chuckling when they laughed and when they span. Eventually, Spencer turned you back to him.

“You see all this?” he made sure to speak softly so the others didn’t hear him, “Our whole team, even Hotch, are dancing to Garcia’s music under the stars in a parking lot because of you.”

You stared up at him and saw that same awe he held for the stars directed right at you. It was difficult not to just grin at him forever.

“I guess they are, yeah.”

“You know why?” he asked and you shook your head, “Because any regular day can be made so special just by you being there. It’s one of the reasons I love you.”

“One of the reasons?” you said, a little cheeky shimmer in your eye that made him kiss you chastely despite the rest of the team being right there. When he pulled away his eyes were a bit darker than they had been.

“I’ll tell you the rest when we get home,” he said lowly.

You giggled like a schoolgirl and kissed him again. But then you had a thought that made you pause.

“Spencer,” you said seriously, the tone shifting because you couldn’t help but say it, “Promise me you’ll keep this memory forever. That whenever I ask, you’ll be able to tell me every little detail.”

He grinned at you, beginning to sway to the music once again and revelling in the content sigh it earned him from you.

“Couldn’t forget it if I tried, angel.

[stanbillyhargrove]

Demons - The Rewrite

Chapter 26A: Your Body Looks Like Heaven

Steve's POV

My stomach was twisted into knots and my hands were clammy by the time we pulled up to the hospital and I was seriously contemplating staying in the car.

--

I came back to Cat's hospital room with Hop behind me. Stopped when we saw Billy on his knees.

Pleading.

"Put all our problems behind us and just leave..please? What do you think? Would you be happy?"

Cat smiled so softly, let herself dream for a moment.

B..." she reached out a hand to cup the side of his face and gently pulled his head into her shoulder, wrapping her arms around his back.

She locked eyes with me over his shoulder and I really believed that she would run away if she could.

And I couldn't let her.

"I..."

I cleared my throat, silencing her before she could agree, "Hopper needs to talk to you, Billy."

He pulled himself together a bit and followed Hop down the hallway.

I settled in the chair next to Cat's bed with a huff. She wiped her hand over her cheek, fingers stopping to curl over the tube taped there. The one going down her nose to feed her.

Her eyes widened a little, "is that-?"

"Yeah. Feeding tube."

"I don't like it, it hurts," she rasped, touching her throat.

And I was so fucking...hurt and angry. I couldn't stop myself.

"Good."

Cat dropped her hands into her lap, staring down at them, "so I'm being admitted?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "you are. There's a program in the city that they're going to recommend to your mom."

She hummed and tipped her head back into the pillow.

I needed her to live, even if she hates me for this.

"Could you, for once, think about the people you'd leave behind if you kill yourself? Me, Billy...your mom..Max. People love you, Cat. You need to try for us."

She opened and closed her mouth, huffing a little.

"I'm serious. Talk until you lose your fucking voice if you have to, but this shit needs to stop. I can't be here for you anymore if you stay sick."

"When am I going?"

"Couple days. We'll be here to see you off."

She looked at me, eyes cold, "don't come back, Steve."

And I hadn't talked to her since that day.

I knew she was pissed that I had brought her into a hospital, but what else was I supposed to do? When we found Cat, she was beyond just bandaging up and putting to bed and I had hit my breaking point. It had been now or never that night, our last chance to help her. But no matter how I justified betraying her, I'd still betrayed her and the thought had been building in my head that maybe we couldn't be friends anymore. Maybe she'd want nothing to do with me anymore and that was a hard pill to swallow.

"Steve? Are you home? I just want to talk to you.."

Cat had left multiple messages on my phone like that, but I could never bring myself to pick up. Didn't want to hear her say she hated me for what I did. So I never answered and never called back. I couldn't face what would happen if I did.

"Steve, man, Cat's worried about you. Hell, I'm worried about you, she says you won't answer your phone and you've been really spacey," Billy talked around his cigarette while we leaned against the front of my house.

We'd spent a lot of time together since Cat left, Billy would often show up late at night to smoke and have a beer with me. It was kind of nice, not being alone, I'd started to look forward to his company.

"Yeah," I mumbled, wiping my face, "just haven't been sleeping great," I tried to avoid the topic of Cat.

Billy didn't try to avoid it, he was his usual blunt self about it, "you're avoiding her."

My silence was enough of an answer for him. He grunted and flicked his cigarette out into the driveway, "Max and I are going to see her in a couple weeks. You're coming."

"No..I can't..I.."

"Steve," Billy clapped a hand on my shoulder, "she wants to see you. I'm fucking nervous too but I'll drag you if I have to."

--

"Steve!" Max clapped her hands in front of my face, snapping me back to the present, "come on!"

She was beaming, practically hopping around, she was so excited. I wish that excitement could transfer to me and take away some of my anxiety, the overwhelming sense of dread. I shuffled along behind Max and Billy into the hospital, past the front desk and into the ward where Cat was. I wanted to bolt, to get the hell out of here as fast as I could until I heard her.

"B!" Cat came flying through the hallway and threw herself into Billy's waiting arms.

He clutched her tight, one hand tight on the back of her neck and the other wrapped around her waist, and lifted her off the ground.

"God," he muttered into the side of her neck, "I fucking missed you."

Cat twisted her fingers into Billy's hair and a soft puff of air left her, like she wasn't sure if she was going to laugh or cry, "I missed you too."

She pulled away from him just far enough to splay her hands on the sides of his face and let out a wet laugh, a few tears rolling down her face as she kissed him. After a moment, Billy let Cat back down to the floor and she let go of him to open her arms to Max, who eagerly ran forward to fill them.

"I missed you!" Max sniffed, getting teary after being reunited with her friend.

"I know," Cat murmured, gently rubbing down Max's back, "I'm sorry, I missed you too, Max."

Billy cleared his throat after a second, "Cat."

When she looked up at him he nodded towards me, I'd been far enough behind them to go unnoticed until now.

"Steve?" She breathed, slowly letting go of Max.

I smiled tightly, felt my stomach kick up into my throat.

And I really wanted to bolt now. To turn around and get the hell out of here. Cause I couldn't handle it if she still hated me.

She stepped closer to me, arms wrapping around herself. One hand up to her lips to bite at her nail.

"Hey," I croaked past the knot in my throat.

She reached out, like she was going to grab me but dropped her hands, "can I..?"

Immediately, my eyes started getting dewy as I nodded and chewed the inside of my mouth. Cat grabbed the side of my face, gently swiping her thumb over the purple bags that had grown under my eyes before sliding her arms around my neck and holding me tightly.

"Oh, Stevie," she breathed, her breath hitching a little as she buried her face in my shoulder, "you never answered my calls, I thought you didn't want to see me."

And I hadn't realized how desperately I missed her. The soft way she called me Stevie, the light vanilla scent on her skin. It was like a part of me had been missing and when she hugged me the full force of that pain hit.

I tucked my head into her hair, inhaling shakily as I wrapped my arms around her back, "that's not..I'm sorry, Cat. I'm so fucking sorry.." I wrapped my arms tighter around her, fisted my hands against her back and let tears fall, "I'm sorry..I had to call, I had to..I thought you hated me."

"Stevie," she cried, twisting her fingers in the hair on the back of my neck, "Stevie, I don't hate you, you saved me."

--

"When do you get to come home?" Max asked.

The aching emptiness of Cat's absence no longer loomed over us and my face and chest hurt from how happy I was. The last time we saw her, her arms had been wrapped in bandages and there had been tubes feeding her, forcing her to live. Now, we could see flashes of thick scars when her sleeves moved but there were no more tubes. Cat's face had filled out a little, the dark hollows less prominent, she looked more colorful, even wrapped up in her usual dark clothes.

"I'm not sure yet," she smiled sweetly and wrapped an arm around Max to hug her to her side, "could be just one more month or could be two."

Billy's groan was barely covered by Max, "but you're better now, right?"

Cat hummed and reached over to lace her fingers into Billy's, "not yet. I need some more time. I'll be home for New Years though. I'll get to spend a couple days with you guys."

Max deflated a little, but then gave Cat a hopeful grin, "maybe we can have a sleepover?"

Billy snorted, "yeah, as if that would ever be allowed."

Max pouted at him, "why not? You sneak out all the time, just take me with you!"

"Yeah, B," Cat imitated Max's whine with a smirk, "you do it all the time."

Billy looked to me for help but was met with me trying to hold in my laughter and groaned, "you are gunna be the death of me. I will try to sneak us out, shitbird, but you better not get us caught."

--

Julie had let us hang out while she drove to the city so Billy, Max and I could surprise Cat when she came home New Years Eve. We had been planning these two days since we had gone to visit Cat. Max and I had picked out movies to rent while Billy was sent out to retrieve a list of food and snacks that Julie had given us money for. When they came through the door we had a mountain of blankets and pillows for us all to lounge on, snacks set out on the table and a stack of movies to watch. Cat had cried while she grabbed each of us for hugs. We got to catch up and hang out for a while before Billy and Max had to go home for dinner, leaving me with Cat and Julie. I was so used to eating by myself, it was nice to have people to talk to. The three of us got to relax together and chat for a couple hours until Julie went to work and then Cat and I huddled up once again on the pillow mountain.

"So," I started, "how are things going? I mean...are you actually better now?"

Cat rolled towards me, resting her head in her hand with a wistful smile, "not all the way, but a little bit. The beginning was tough, it took a while to find myself again, find the motivation to live, you know? Spent the first while tubed, on constant watch, couldn't even pee by myself," she huffed out a laugh, "but it started getting easier. Lots of talking, no more secrets."

I winced, picturing Cat lying in that hospital bed again, forcing her to survive. My eyes caught the thick scar running down her arm and stayed focused there for a moment.

"Actually, Stevie, you guys coming to visit made the biggest difference. You only get to leave if you're doing well in the program. And after you guys came, I didn't want to mess up coming home and getting to spend a couple days with all of you."

I smiled back at her, glad to have my best friend back. Thought about how much more alive she looked now, the spark in her eyes that had been missing a few months ago was back, along with the color in her cheeks. I felt hope bloom in my chest, wondered briefly if it was too soon to think everything was okay.

"I missed you, Cat."

"Missed you too, Stevie," she murmured, rolling to lay her head on my arm.

--

Billy's POV

Max had dressed for the occasion, I realized when she crept into my room late in the evening. She had picked out all black clothes and looked like she had walked out of a cheesy spy movie.

"Maxine," I smirked, "I think you hang out with those nerds too much."

She grinned and stuck her tongue out at me, "shut up. You ready?"

Slowly, we slid out of my bedroom window and crept to my car to make our getaway. Safe inside my car, Max couldn't stop talking and laughing, whooping like a maniac. We arrived back at Cat's house to join them on the pile of pillows and blankets in the living room. Steve and Max didn't even make it through the first movie before they were snoring loudly. Cat was leaning against my chest, resting her hand lightly on Steve's shoulder while Max held onto her leg. I wanted to lay here forever, basking in the moment, except I couldn't.

"Babe," I whispered into her hair, "can we talk?"

I felt her shoulders tense up suddenly as she nodded, "yeah, okay."

Cat carefully slid away from Max and Steve to follow me to her room. I sat down on the edge of her bed, eyes locked on the floor where Steve had been sobbing after cleaning the bathroom. Remembered how panic had taken over me when I saw her, how destroyed I'd been after.

"B, what's going on?"

She twisted her fingers together as she sat down, just far enough away that we weren't touching. She was guarding herself, thinking the worst.

"Cat, are you really okay? I just...I don't think I can go through that again.."

I watched the tension drop from her shoulders as she reached forward to grab my hand, "I'm okay, I promise."

Tears welled in my eyes, the image of her dying burned into my mind. I grit my teeth to hold myself back from sobbing, clutching at her hand as tight as I could. I didn't want to let go of her ever again, afraid of what might happen if she stumbled in her recovery and I wasn't there.

"Hey," she soothed, pulling me into her arms, "hey, it's okay. I'm getting better, I am. I wouldn't have been able to come home if I wasn't ready. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I hurt you, B, I didn't mean to. It wasn't your fault, you have to know that.."

Cat's small hand rested on the side of my face and gentled me up to look at her.

"B," she whispered, pressing kisses across my cheeks, taking away the tears that had streamed down, "none of this was your fault, I promise. I love you, I love you so much."

Slowly, she inched her lips closer to mine, dragging her soft skin across my cheek until her mouth closed over mine. I slid my hands up her back to hold her gently as I returned the kiss, wishing I could let how much she meant to me pour through my skin. Cat crawled forward to straddle my lap, making a low groan build in my throat.

I tore myself away, breaking the kiss to press our foreheads together, breathing hard as I tried to control myself, "Cat.."

"B," she breathed, "I'm okay," she leaned into me to kiss down the pulse of my neck, "I want you."

I sighed, turning my head to allow her better access to my throat and wondered if she could feel how quickly my pulse was pounding. Panic turned to heat, spreading throughout my body.

I twisted my hand into her hair when she started to leave a purple chain behind, "Cat..I-"

Cat shushed me softly and ran her thumb over my lips, mumbling into my neck, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, B."

I swiped my tongue over her thumb and slowly slid one hand down her side to toy with the edge of her sweater before dipping under it and grabbing her soft skin. She nosed up my jaw to nip at my earlobe, breathing heavily as she ran a hand down my chest.

My breath hitched under her fingers, "Babe."

Cat drug her lips across my cheek to kiss the corner of my mouth before leaning back to look at me, "yeah?"

"Are you sure? We don't have to.."

She smiled and nodded, gently running her nails over my side, "yeah, I'm sure."

A surge of emotions flowed through me as I leaned forward to meet her lips again and tightened my grip on her hip, holding her close. I had to really focus to keep myself in check when she rolled her hips into me, to stop myself from losing control and pushing her too far. Cat was breathing heavily when she pulled back to grab the bottom of my shirt and pull it off me. She ran her fingers up the muscles of my chest and stopped with the palm of her hand flat over my heart to hold my gaze for a moment. Gently, she pushed me until my back hit the blankets of her bed and then sat back in my lap. Cat let out a puff of air, bracing herself before pulling her sweater off so she was just in her bra. The last time I saw her without clothes on, she was so fragile, looked so close to death, but now, now the gaps between her bones weren't so prominent and she looked so much more alive. She crossed her arms in front of her chest to hide her scars, her eyes misting as she suddenly became self conscious under my gaze.

"Cat," I soothed, sitting back up to grab her hands, "Baby, you're beautiful. You don't need to hide from me."

"You don't think I'm...dirty...or broken?"

I pulled one of her arms towards me, kissing the middle of her palm and then slowly ran my lips up her arm, along the lifted pink scar until I reached her elbow. I raised my eyes to hers, my lips still on her skin when I murmured, "never. I love you, so fucking much..you know that, right? You're everything to me."

Cat smiled, her chin wavering a little as she watched me, nodding slowly, "yeah."

I slid my hands up to her face and pulled her over me as I leaned back down to the bed, bringing her lips back to mine. She breathed in shakily and wrapped her hands around my neck, holding me tightly. My tongue swiped across her bottom lip slowly before she opened her mouth to me, humming softly. Cat's legs hitched up to my hips to straddle me and I slid one hand down the side of her body to rest on her hip, toying with the waistband of her pants. Slowly, Cat's hand left my neck to trail down my chest, stopping when her fingertips hit my jeans. Her lips left mine to kiss down my face and suck a small bruise into the skin under my jaw as her hand slid into my pants to lightly grip my cock.

"Fuck," I groaned, my hips pressing up into her hand.

It's been so long since being touched, even longer since having sex with anyone and I realized now, when my cock kicked just from a hand sliding over it, that I was not going to last. A whine left my throat when she stroked me and I felt the puff of air leave her lips when she chuckled into my neck.

"Let me make you feel good, B," she whispered.

She pulled her hand out of my pants to slide down my body, lips trailing down the dip in my chest and over my abs until her chin touched denim. A grin played on her lips as she nosed along my hip before leaving another bruise as she undid my pants. Small fingers curled into my pants to tug them down, freeing my aching dick. Her hot tongue slid up my shaft, making me gasp when she flicked at the tip.

"Please," I whined, "fuck, Cat, please."

She hummed and wrapped her lips around my dick, slowly sliding up and down, coating me in her saliva. I gasped when I slid into the wet heat of her throat, quickly sending me careening towards release. My hand curled into her hair, trying to gently pull her off with a low whine.

Cat pulled off my cock, leaving it glistening deliciously with saliva and looked up at me, "it's okay, let go, B. Let me take care of you now."

It didn't take much longer when she took me back into her throat for me to be biting back my groans as I spilled into her mouth. She pulled off my cock and nuzzled her way back up my body, trailing kisses along my chest. When her lips reached mine, she rolled her hips into my half hard dick, making me moan into her mouth.

"You okay?" I panted against her lips, "you need to stop?"

Cat kissed the corner of my mouth quickly, "I'm okay, I want to."

I wrapped my hands around her shoulders and hitched up to roll us over, laying her down in the pillows. Her breathing started getting faster as I kissed down her body, trailing my lips between her breasts, over her stomach to the hem of her pants. I slowly undid her pants and started pulling them down, watching her face as I did, making sure she wasn't starting to panic. Cat had pulled her lip between her teeth and gotten dewy eyed by the time I had slid her pants off and dropped them on the floor.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," I soothed, moving up her body to hold her face, "you're okay. You tell me to stop and we stop, okay?"

She nodded slightly, and I knew she was just this side of panicking when I kissed down her neck to her chest. I slid my hands under her back to release the clasp of her bra and pulled it off her arms, dropping it to the floor to palm at her breasts.

"You're okay," I murmured into her skin, trailing kisses across her chest as I kept talking, "I love you...so much, Cat."

I trailed down her stomach, inching closer to her panty line, "you're everything to me."

I hooked my fingers into her underwear, my lips pressed to the light scars on her hip as I pulled them off of her. Her hands slid up to press the heels of her palms into her eyes with a shakey breath. My lips dragged over hips and thighs, kissing over her scars tenderly, keeping my eyes on her face and purposefully staying away from her most sensitive area.

"You with me?"

It took a moment for Cat to let out a shuddering breath and move her hands away from her face, wiping away the few tears that had pooled there.

"I'm here, I'm okay," she breathed.

I smiled against the inside of her leg, "what do you want, Baby? Keep going?" I kissed further up her thigh, "stop?" the sensitive skin before her core, "or I could keep this up.."

The corner of her mouth twitched up as she moaned, "come up here, B."

I pressed a chaste kiss above her slit before moving back up her body to nose along her wavering chin. Her mouth found mine as she pressed a hand to my shoulder, pushing me back until I was sitting against the headboard with her in my lap. Cat's breathing quickened when she rolled her hips against me and I reached a hand up to cup the side of her face, my other hand on her back, holding her close to me. If the last thing I ever heard was the moan that fell from her lips when she sank down on me, I would die happy. It was a sound that I could spend forever listening to, would have dreams about. Her eyes welled up with tears before she dropped her head to my shoulder, clutching at my shoulders as she kept her hips moving. I held her tightly as she whined and moaned into me, whispering curses and I love you's into her hair. Cat slowly calmed down, the tension leaving her body as she was brought closer to an orgasm. She bit into my shoulder as she came and I was soon to follow, a low whine in my throat as my hips thrust up into her.

We laid together for a while, limbs tangled and panting as we came down from our high. Cat started to shake when the high of her orgasm wore off, no longer able to push down her panic.

"Hey, hey," I soothed, smoothing my hand down her back, "you okay?"

Her head shaking was the only answer I got before I pulled her tight to my chest. Her hands balled into fists against me as I continued to rub her back and whisper to her. It took a while before she would slump against me, taking in deep shakey breaths.

"You with me?"

She sniffed and nodded, "y-yeah, yeah I'm okay."

"Wanna get cleaned up?"

Her arms tightened around me, not wanting to let go and I couldn't help the smile that came to my face.

"Alright, I'll carry you," I murmured, shifting my legs off the bed so I could stand up.

I carried her into the bathroom and managed to set her down on the edge of the tub long enough to start the shower water, though she was still clutching at my arm, not letting me go completely. With the water warmed up, I turned to gather her back into my arms and led her into the spray. We had sex again in the shower before going back to Cat's room and cuddling up on her bed, tangled in each other. She fell asleep in my arms soon after getting comfortable and I knew I should also try to sleep but I just couldn't bring myself to miss a second of her. I stayed awake as long as I could, just tracing the lines of her body and listening to the even sound of her breathing before I fell asleep.

Julie woke me up when she got home, early enough that the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. I groaned and wrapped my arms tighter around Cat, not ready to be without her again.

"Billy, Sweetie, you should get your sister home before anyone wakes up," she whispered, her soft hand on my shoulder.

I huffed and nodded, "thanks, Julie."

She smiled and ran her hand down Cat's hair, "you can all come back later. Spend a little more time together before I bring her back in the morning."

She started to leave and then stopped at the door to look back at me, "Billy?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For being there for her. You and Steve, you two are the reason I still have my daughter."

I smiled a little, not knowing what to say before she left me to get up. Cat was still half asleep when I pulled away from her and whined at my absence. I smirked and pulled a pillow down into her arms for her to nuzzle into before kissing her temple and sliding off the bed to get dressed.

"B..?"

"Ssh, go back to sleep," I whispered, bending down to kiss her forehead, "I gotta get home. I'll come back though, okay?"

"Okay.." she mumbled, pulling the pillow in tighter to her.

--

Max and I made it home in time, partially because I'd carried her to and from my car instead of waiting for her to wake up. Her eyes wouldn't stay open long enough for her to walk so when I pushed her through the window she immediately curled up in my bed and went back to sleep. I chuckled softly before pulling the blanket over her and settling in beside her.

--

Cat went back to the hospital the next morning and spent another month in the rehab program. But she eventually came home and was so much healthier and happier when she did. She came back to school with us and would have to do extra courses at home in order to graduate on time but she didn't mind. Steve and I were happy to sit and help her with the work whenever we could. We watched Steve graduate a few months later and gathered at his house with the kids to celebrate. He found a job at the mall a while after and started saving up to move out. The three of us would still be together as much as possible, we were basically inseparable until Cat and I graduated. Then the subject of moving came up again.

"Where do you wanna go, Baby?"

"I thought your plan was California, B," she smiled.

"Yeah, but is that what you want? We don't have to go if you don't want to, I'll change my plan for you if you ask me to."

She leaned into my shoulder, "I want to go with you...sit on the beach...lay in the sun...but.."

My shoulders tensed, "but?"

Cat looked down at her hands and twisted her fingers together, "I think we should ask Steve to come with us...it doesn't feel right to leave him behind."

Honestly, I was glad she asked. The three of us had been through so much together and I couldn't imagine one of us not being there. Steve was the only guy I could turn to and I didn't want to lose that, nor did I want to separate him and Cat. Moving across the country would probably be hard on Cat, not knowing anybody, if Steve came with us it would be easier. The three of us were each other's family now.

I exhaled the tension from my body and turned to kiss the top of her head, "we'll need to find a bigger apartment. "

@charmed-asylum

[hopeisour4letteredword]

personal furnace, ch1

Summary: Winter renovations at the inn in Zaphias leave Yuri in need of a warm bunk for the night. Good thing he can always count on his good buddy Flynn.

Read it below or at the AO3 link in the notes.

"It's freezing out there," Yuri complains, when he pushes in through Flynn's window. Flynn grimaces at the gust of cold wind through his room. It rustles through the papers on his desk threateningly.

"I'm quite aware, so if you could please get the rest of the way inside and close—thank you." He sighs with relief as Yuri slams the window closed behind himself. "I hope you realize that I was making a sacrifice for you by leaving that unlocked."

"You're indoors, you run hot and you have a fireplace, I don't feel sorry for you," Yuri says. He's shivering quite badly when Flynn looks up from his desk. Flynn frowns at him. When he rises from his chair, he scoops a blanket off the bed on his way past, and approaches to wrap it around Yuri's shoulders. Yuri makes a grateful noise. "Oh, fuck, thank you."

"You aren't in nearly enough layers," Flynn says. He fusses with the drape of the blanket and scowls down at Yuri's clothes. He's not so foolish as to be wearing his usual garb, but a full-fronted tunic and loose jacket are hardly a full winter kit. Yuri huddles into the blanket with a tight shrug.

"Wasn't so bad when I left Halure."

"Halure's always warmer," Flynn says, absentmindedly. He tucks the blanket all the way up against Yuri's throat. Yuri leans into it, eyelashes dipping against his cheeks when he sighs with relief, and Flynn has to swallow to stop himself from saying something stupid about how long they are or how soft the tender skin of Yuri's throat is against Flynn's knuckles. Gods, but he's always at his easiest to knock off kilter when they've been apart for a while. Sometimes he thinks if Yuri went away for long enough, Flynn would blurt out a confession just from seeing him again, because he'd forget how to cope with how beautiful Yuri can be.

"Sometimes by a great deal."

"Yes, well, I don't think about that when I travel."

"Have you got better jackets in your bag?"

Yuri grimaces. "Yeah, but I dropped those off at the inn. Speaking of..."

...Ah. The inn in Zaphias is undergoing renovations to improve their insulation right now. It had happened that furnace blastia had been compensating for more structural deficiencies than anyone had realized, and now the whole city is scrambling to prepare for the worst of winter. The Knights are helping wherever unskilled but professionally directed labor is of use, and Flynn had made certain that some of the Flynn Brigade was stationed in the Lower Quarter, but... renovating an entire building with the proper amount of care can't be done instantaneously, no matter how many spare hands you provide.

"The renovations," Flynn says, sympathetically. "They didn't get enough rooms ready?"

"I got the impression they'd already done an absurd amount for how much time they had," Yuri says, which is probably very generous of him. "But no. Seems like it's a little cramped. Mariam's sorting by priority right now, so the elderly and those who really need it are first..."

"You don't have to run through the list for me," Flynn says. "You wouldn't take a finished room now if Mariam told you to. I know you. You're waiting for everyone else to get their space first."

"Yeah," Yuri says. He rolls his shoulders back and straightens a bit to stare Flynn down, defiantly. "Of course. Who's going to handle sleeping out in the cold better than me? I mean, really. I've slept in the Drifts before."

"Right," Flynn says. He knows that, objectively, but he hates the thought of Yuri having to sleep in the snow and freezing winds of Zoephir. He can't begin to fathom what task brought Brave Vesperia there that was worth sleeping that way. It must have paid quite handsomely, or been quite important. "Well, that's very noble of you and all that. Yes, you can sleep here instead."

"That's not—" Yuri splutters. His cheeks are red, but Flynn can't be certain that's not just the flush of the cold air yet to fade. "I wasn't going to ask for that! Just if I could take any spare blankets off your hands until the renovations are complete!"

"I suppose you can if you insist," Flynn says, doubtfully. He still doesn't really enjoy the mental image of Yuri shivering under a pile of quilts in a room so drafty as to be frosty when Flynn is perfectly content to share his space. Not that he would have any problem donating some spare blankets to Mariam in the morning, for others who didn't have a warm space yet, but for Yuri... And anyway, Yuri has never slept well when he has to share his space with strangers. He has enough trouble getting to sleep without further complications. "But really, you can just sleep here. There's no reason for you to be cold."

"Mariam said it would build character," Yuri says, presumably just to be a shit, because that's pretty much the only reason Yuri has uttered the words Hanks said or Mariam said since they were seven.

"I don't think anybody would accuse you of lacking character."

Yuri grins, sharp and proud. "Why thank you."

"I didn't hear any real objections, so I assume you're sleeping here," Flynn adds.

"I mean, yeah, if you're serious," Yuri says. He finally reaches up and takes the edges of the blanket into his own hands, adjusting it around himself. "Like you said. No reason to make myself suffer as some weird exercise in stupid pride."

"Good," Flynn says, satisfied. "I can lend you some clothes to sleep in tonight, so you don't have to go back for your bags."

"Alright," Yuri says, easily enough. He shuffles along behind Flynn when Flynn heads for the dresser and retrieves some soft pajamas. He takes the clothes, and Flynn excuses himself to the desk again to let Yuri change. They used to share clothes more when they were children, which is to say that they treated most of their things as interchangeable when they were children. Flynn tries to remember that so he doesn't feel so embarrassingly warm and fuzzy about Yuri wearing his clothes. Yuri promptly sabotages this by saying, "We are the same fucking size, how do you stretch the shoulders out so much?"

"My shoulders are broader than yours," Flynn says. He stubbornly doesn't turn to look, because he knows the warm, fuzzy feeling will only get worse when he sees the shoulders of his shirt hanging loose on Yuri's leaner frame. Good grief. He has no right to feel any kind of way about Yuri wearing his clothes. "Stop whining. At least it's not the other way around, and you stretch all my shirts out when you borrow them. I'd never let you borrow anything otherwise."

"Sure you would. You'd just whine about it."

"My uniforms are actually meant to look crisp and fit properly, you know."

"Not your pajamas, smart-ass. Since when have I ever borrowed one of your uniforms?"

"When you were in the Knights with me as a rookie," Flynn says. He risks a glance back. Yuri has finished pulling the pajamas on, and wrapped the blanket back around himself as a cloak. "You stole my spare uniform a few times, remember?"

"Aside from that. You weren't that much bigger than me then, anyway. I didn't fuck them up that much." Yuri gives him a sour look. "And you certainly chewed me out for it enough at the time."

"Well, you knew better than to be stealing my clothes."

"Not my fault we shared a drawer. I didn't even realize I was taking yours half the time."

"I'm not going to argue with you about idiotic things we did when we were eighteen," Flynn says. Yuri could have just paid attention to which side of the damn drawer he was reaching into, but this debate is pointless. "You can go ahead and get in bed. I need to finish reading this."

"Don't stay up all night," Yuri teases, climbing into bed with the blanket still wrapped around him. Flynn wonders, with some amusement, whether he gave up the right to share that blanket with Yuri later by handing it to him now. But no. Once he's snuggled down under the covers, Yuri wriggles until he frees himself and can haphazardly yank the cloak-blanket out. It spreads mostly-evenly over the rest of the quilts.

That's one way to do it.

It doesn't take too much longer for Flynn to finish looking over his document, but it does take longer than it should. He keeps catching himself peeking over at Yuri, a glimpse of dark hair settled cozy and comfortable against Flynn's pillows, the quilt-softened shape of him under Flynn's covers. Flynn has to force himself to be responsible and complete his task rather than just following him to bed.

Yuri doesn't react when Flynn finally joins him. His eyelashes are a dark curve against his cheekbones, and his breathing is steady and even. Asleep already, it seems. Good. Flynn is glad he feels safe enough in Flynn's space to rest easily. He slides under the blankets as carefully as he can and settles down with his back to Yuri. For all that Yuri always says Flynn runs hot, he's putting off no shortage of body heat himself. It's nice and toasty under the covers as a result. Flynn has no trouble falling asleep.

---

He wakes up and smells citrus.

In the time it takes his newly-conscious brain to begin processing that that's confusing and unexpected, he realizes that his nose is buried in someone's hair. Silky, dark, soft hair, which smells faintly of citrus—

—Oh. Yuri must be buying new soaps in Dahngrest these days. He used to just use whatever plain soaps could be bought for cheap in the Lower Quarter. Flynn supposes that nicer, interesting-smelling soaps are the kind of luxury that a person might consider if they recently gained a consistent source of income. Somehow he still smells, in some unidentifiable way, like Yuri.

Because it is Yuri, of course. Yuri still huddled almost up to his own nose under the blankets. Yuri bundled tightly in Flynn's arms, his chest pressed to Flynn's chest as Flynn wraps around him like a clinging octopus. He's warm, very warm. Flynn can take comfort in the secure knowledge that he made sure Yuri was warm at night. Which isn't to say that this embrace was an intentional move to get him there. No, Flynn is just guilty of sleep cuddling, and now he has to try to undo that without waking his friend. There are several associated problems with this; the first is that Flynn doesn't actually want to stop cuddling Yuri, both because he's soppily in love and because Yuri is warm and Flynn can already tell the rest of the room is distinctly not. The second is the actual logistics of the maneuver. Flynn can't move him too much or he'll wake, but if he just moves himself without moving Yuri at all, Yuri might flop around enough to wake anyway. And even if he can avoid both of those, the frigid air that will sneak into the blanket roll when Flynn leaves it might be enough to wake Yuri on its own.

The third problem is that as soon as Flynn leaves the bed he's going to be haunted by every faint citrus perfume he encounters for the rest of the winter, remembering this moment of Yuri safe and vulnerable and content in his arms, but perhaps that's more of a new extension to Flynn's general in love with Yuri problem than an issue with leaving the bed.

Alas. He must attempt the thing anyway. He uses gentle, soft touches to Yuri's person and little shifts in tiny increments of his own. When he's finally extricated himself, he watches Yuri for a second longer just to be sure his stealth operation was successful. Yuri huddles down into the warm spot Flynn left behind, blankets still tucked up around his shoulders and tousled hair concealing his face from view. His breathing is still slow and even, the mountain of blankets falling and rising with every sleeping breath. Flynn sighs with silent relief and heads for the bathroom.

When he emerges, fresh-faced and dressed in his under-armor uniform, he walks as softly as he can over to his armor stand. Metal is still metal, but he tries to be quiet as he begins to assemble it.

The blankets rustle. Yuri says, hoarsely, "Oh, what the fuck, are you really getting up already? I thought maybe you just had to pee or something." Flynn looks sharply over his shoulder. Yuri has pushed himself up onto one elbow, and peers back, looking crabby and half-asleep. "I'm sorry. I was trying not to wake you—"

"You've gotta be joking. It's not even fucking light outside yet, Flynn. What's wrong with you? At least wait until dawn."

"It's the dead of winter," Flynn says. He snaps on the wrist-piece of his gauntlet that he was already holding and turns to face Yuri. "Dawn's still a while off. I have to get started on my day. I meant to let you keep sleeping, though." "I know you were still awake when I got here, and you haven't slept any more than I have. Seriously? You do this every night?"

"I think it's later than you realize," Flynn says, miffed to be lectured on his sleep habits by a known insomniac. To be fair, Yuri has the excuse that his sleep problems are involuntary, but still. "I don't—hang on. What did you mean, you thought I just had to pee?"

"What does it sound like?" Yuri groans, a rough, exasperated growl of a sound, and pushes himself the rest of the way into a sitting position. Ah, no. Flynn had been hoping Yuri wouldn't follow his example, and he would rest some more. It is difficult for Yuri to find peaceful sleep, after all, and he had been traveling yesterday, too. If he came through Halure, he couldn't have taken a shortcut by sea, either, nor been dropped off by Ba'ul. He has to be exhausted. "I thought you got out of bed to use the bathroom or something, not because you were getting up for real. I'd have stopped you before you got out of the blanket nest if I'd realized."

Flynn smacks down the tender, flowery ache that blooms in his heart at the conjured image of Yuri sleepily grabbing after him to keep him in a shared bed. "Since when were you awake?"

Yuri scrubs a hand through his hair with a grimace. "I don't know, whenever you started moving around? I'm a light sleeper."

"I know that," Flynn says, tightly. He tries to wrestle his voice back under control. "I—my apologies. For—"

For the cuddling. He can't quite force the words out, though, in a moment of spiked mortification and shame. Yuri squints at him for a few seconds in confusion before his expression clears, realization dawning on his face.

"What, for the cuddling? You don't need to apologize for that. It's fine. Is that why you got up? Good grief, you're an idiot. I don't care. You could have stayed."

"It's not why I got up, the clock says—never mind. Even if you don't care, I care, since apparently you refuse to do so for yourself." Yuri gives him an outraged look for that one, which makes sense, but which is also a point Flynn is willing to start real shit over, so good luck, Yuri. "If I'm going to offer to share my bed, I should be able to control myself enough not to invade your space and your boundaries. So—"

"I said it's fine," Yuri snaps. Flynn prepares to argue more before Yuri, red in the face and avoiding eye contact, adds, "You're really warm."

Flynn stops and stares at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're warm," Yuri repeats, sounding frustrated. "I've told you, you run hot. Hotter than me, anyway. Human furnace. You always have been. It's—it was helping."

Flynn has to stare for a few more seconds, stupefied, before Yuri rallies himself enough to glare back. Yes, Yuri had been a comfortable heat source in his own arms, but... Flynn finally shakes his head, slowly. "Well, I... Alright. Fine, then. If you're sure."

Yuri rolls his eyes and shakes his own head. He climbs out of the bed and begins gathering his clothes from around the room. "We've slept in beds together before, Flynn. I knew what I was getting into. I wouldn't have agreed to share the bed if I had a problem with it."

Flynn feels heat rush to his face. Yes, they've shared beds a few hundred times if they've shared them once, but the vast majority of those times were as small children. That is to say, young enough that cuddling was seen as cute and friendly and permissible, not invasive and creepy. Flynn knew before last night that he'd never lost his unfortunate sleep habits, had mortified himself on several past occasions bed-sharing as young adults by waking up to discover he'd wrapped his body around Yuri's as they slept. He had hoped that Yuri had slept through the disentanglement process, but if what Yuri is saying is true, Flynn failed at that particular task miserably.

"So I... every time...?"

Yuri stops with his arms full of his own clothes to stare at Flynn incredulously. Flynn can only imagine he's comfortable being dramatic instead of dressing because he's standing directly beside the fireplace. "You did know you do that, right? Hey. You did know? I need you to confirm that now, actually."

"Of course I—"

"Because you've been doing that since you were six, every single time, and if nobody else has bothered to tell you—" Yuri shakes his head again. "No, hang on, you're the one who always wakes up first. Did you honestly think I was the one who—?"

"No! I know it's—me, I know I'm the one who does that," Flynn bursts out, freshly embarrassed. "But I thought you slept through it when I woke up and tried to give you some space. You really woke up every time? Or did you just assume—"

Yuri looks amused now. "You think I sleep on the road where monsters might try to eat me and I don't have the survival instincts to wake up when someone is manhandling my body?"

Flynn doesn't know what to say to that.

"Yes, it's true. You aren't the stealth master you thought you were and I still knew you cuddle in your sleep. Sorry to be the one to break it to you."

His mortification must show on his face, because Yuri laughs at him. He turns away from Flynn at long last and starts stripping out of his borrowed pajamas to put on his clothes. "I guess I'll give you a little credit for the effort. It's kind of my bad for not making it obvious I'd woken up."

"Why didn't you?"

"Why do you think? I wanted to go back to sleep. And steal your warm spot, usually."

Flynn gives him an offended look. It's wasted on the back of Yuri's head. "You really have been using me as a human furnace for twenty years, then."

"Using you is such strong language. Appreciating you, maybe."

"You don't even run that much colder than me!"

"C'mere for a second," Yuri says, muffled as he finishes pulling a thick, woolen second tunic on over the first. That's definitely Flynn's, and Flynn's not sure when he stole it but he won't call Yuri out on it. He'd rather Yuri was warm on his way back to his bags than raise a pointless fuss. Yuri holds a hand out to Flynn and wiggles his fingers. "I wanna show you something."

"Absolutely not," says Flynn, who has known Yuri long enough to know when he's being threatened with cold fingers on his neck. Yuri grins wolfishly.

"No? It's for science."

Flynn watches warily as Yuri strides across the room, towards where Flynn's sitting at his desk. "It's not for science, you big bully."

"Aww. Don't be such a baby—" Yuri comes within an arms-breadth and reaches for him. Flynn bats him away, and Yuri cackles and climbs half-over the armrest of the chair, fighting against Flynn's protective arm.

"Yuri, I swear, don't you dare—"

Which is, of course, the moment Flynn's maid knocks and opens the door, Yuri balanced perilously on one knee and wrestling with Flynn to regain the advantage on the assault.

"Good—morning. Sir," Cecelia says. "Uh. Mr. Yuri?"

"Good morning," Yuri says, cheerfully. He yanks a wrist out of Flynn's grip and tries to shove it against Flynn's neck again. Flynn smacks him away again with a low growl. "What can we do for you?"

"Um."

"Ignore him," Flynn says. He finally gets a hold on both of Yuri's wrists at once, and after a brief struggle of pure brute strength, manages to shove him back so that he stumbles the step off the armrest and trips backwards onto Flynn's bed, laughing the whole way. Flynn strongly suspects he was only launched so far because he let himself be. Good grief. He tries to fight down his answering smile as he turns back to the door. "I'm sorry about all that, Cecelia. Good morning. Have you brought breakfast?"

"Yes, sir," Cecelia says. She dutifully presents him with a tray of food, which he accepts gratefully and moves to his desk. Tentatively, she adds, "I can... fetch more, if...?"

"Ah, don't bother," Yuri says. He sits up on the bed, stretching. "I should get a move on, see who needs an extra pair of hands in the renovations today. I'm sure someone will feed me when I get there."

"Come back for lunch if they don't," Flynn says, absentmindedly. Yuri makes an affirmative noise and shuffles around behind Flynn, locating his boots. "Is there anything else you need me to address at this time, Cecelia?"

"Why..." Cecelia starts, then turns pink. "Not anything I need you to address, sir, but why is Mr. Yuri here at this hour?"

"To be a pain in the neck," Yuri says. Flynn rolls his eyes.

"Literally, if you had your way."

"Ha! Maybe."

"The inn in the Lower Quarter is among those having emergency renovations," Flynn tells Cecelia. She nods. "They need re-insulation and fireplaces for all of the rooms. They were able to renovate enough rooms with urgent speed to house most of the people who need shelter there, but things are still cramped, and there wasn't a spare room for Yuri. So I offered to let him sleep here until the inn is sorted out."

"That was kind, sir," Cecelia says, slowly, giving Flynn a confused, almost studying look.

A thought occurs to Flynn. He tilts his head back towards Yuri, who appears to be putting on boots somewhere in the vicinity of the bed. "Now that Cecelia is here with breakfast, will you believe I didn't wake us up absurdly early?"

"No," Yuri says, without hesitation. "I'll believe you trained the poor girl to deal with you waking up absurdly early. Sorry about him, Cece."

"I think it's the standard time for the Knights, Mr. Yuri," Cecelia says, doubtfully. "I've seen other people about, and the kitchens have started, of course. I don't need to cook breakfast myself if I bring it now."

Flynn cranes his neck enough to be gratified by the comically horrified look on Yuri's face. He snorts fondly and turns away again. "You had to get up at this time for your stint in the Knights, too. Or have you repressed that?"

"I must have. I don't remember Niren inflicting this kind of suffering on me."

"Maybe you're simply cranky because of the dawn being late."

"The dawn's even later in winter in Dahngrest, too, they just handle it like sensible people and sleep in until it's light out." Yuri's heels thump against the floor, one-two, presumably as he stretches out after he finishes assembling his attire. "It's funny, up there, it's almost like the whole city's hibernating—I'll tell you some other time. You've got your stupid early Commandant stuff, I've gotta go convince Mariam I'm still worth feeding. Thanks for letting me crash here."

"It was the least I could do," Flynn says, sincerely. "Keep warm out there. Are you still interested in taking those extra blankets to Mariam?"

"Hm. Yeah, actually."

"Cecelia, would you mind terribly—"

"No, sir. Here, Mr. Yuri."

At the very least, Yuri's arms loaded with blankets force him to leave out the door rather than making an escape out the window. He bids Flynn and Cecelia goodbye and heads out.

"Sir," Cecelia says, after she finishes making Flynn's bed. "Will you be requiring two sets of breakfast tomorrow?"

"No thank you," Flynn says, after a brief moment of consideration. "We've no timeline for when Yuri will be able to return to the inn, so let's not waste the food in case he doesn't come."

"Alright, sir," Cecelia says, but she looks dubious. She takes her leave.

[whitewolfmoving]

Boston Burning Part One

Pressure

Summary: After the ceiling caves in leaving Nika Stan trapped and injured on an emergency call, she's ordered to take mandatory sick leave until her injuries heal. She can think of no better place to rest and recuperate than in Boston with her (and her brother's) best friend.

Warnings: very minor description of injuries

Word Count: 1459

A/N: Here's chapter one of part one of my two-part crossover series! For a setup chapter, I personally think it sucks a bit. But I hope you like it. This story was born of my love for firefighters, my need for d/Deaf representation, and dreams no one needs to know about but that I told one of my best friends of anyway (hehe). Happy reading!

New York born and raised, Nika Stan had always been her big brother's little shadow.

When 13-year-old Sebastian loudly declared one warm evening at the dinner table that he was going to grow up and be a firefighter like the one he'd seen on the way to school, a chubby-cheeked 4-year-old Nika proudly echoed, "Me, too!" And when her big brother leaned over with his dark ocean blue eyes to kiss her forehead and whispered gently in her ear, "Of course, you will, my little Sunspot!" Nika knew then that she was born for greatness.

For Nika, that greatness took the form of many things throughout her life; from saving kittens stuck in trees and helping her neighbor Mrs. Jenkins across the street after school, to following in her brother's footsteps all the way to the National Fire Academy. Sebastian always taught Nika that she could do and be anything she put her mind to, he was her number one fan and biggest supporter. Whenever she needed a little extra encouragement, he was right there to give it to her. Likewise, Nika did the same for him.

The call that changed their lives came just after 2 AM.

Sebastian was out of bed, dressed, in the car, and walking through the doors of Brooklyn General within the hour. It was late, the emergency room was empty save for the Squad, Engine, and Truck members huddled in the far corner of the waiting area. Before he could make his way to the reception desk to inquire about his sister's whereabouts, the Squad Lieutenant intercepted him.

"Hey, man. They're treating her now and Brooklyn PD is taking her statement. Chief's with her, but she's been asking for you. Straight back, first room on the left."

"Thanks. All of you, for being here. I'll update you when I know more."

The whitewashed walls of Brooklyn General were never Sebastian's thing; he belonged on the outside, keeping people from having to enter its doors. Now, though, he carefully wandered its hallways looking and listening for the one person he never wanted to see taking up residence in the massive building — Nika. The Chief had assured him that her injuries were minor but he wouldn't believe it until he could see her with his own eyes. He continued down the hall to the first door on his left, and knocked before heading in.

To Sebastian's surprise — and the credit of the doctors on call late that night — Nika didn't look too worse for wear. He breathed a sigh of relief and acknowledged Chief Jackson briefly, before he settled in the chair at Nika's bedside.

"Frate mai mare," she greeted softly. She looked up at him with glazed honey-colored eyes, no doubt a result of the mild sedative they'd given her to help with the pain. White gauze poked out from under the right shoulder of the clean hospital gown she wore, her wrist had been placed in a hard cast and propped up on a pillow in her lap. She looked so tiny beneath the blankets.

"Sora mai mică," Sebastian answered in kind. He gently pushed a hand through Nika's hair. watching closely as her eyes fluttered shut at the comforting contact. Once he was certain she'd fallen asleep, he turned to address the other men in the room. "Did she say what happened?"

"She was clearing the top floor, called out and received no response. When she turned to leave, the owner ambushed her from the next room. The ceiling came down on top of them," Chief Jackson told Sebastian calmly. "The only thing she remembers after that is waking up here."

Dr. Fuller handed Sebastian a copy of Nika's x-ray. He hated this part, they all did. Everyone loved the younger Stan sibling as much as Sebastian did, seeing her in any sort of discomfort put them all on edge. "She's got a broken radius and second degree burns on her shoulder and across part of her chest. We'll keep her overnight for observation, just as a precaution. She can go home tomorrow afternoon but it's in her best interest to keep her off duty until her wounds heal."

Sebastian chuckled. "She's not going to like that. Thanks, Doc, I appreciate it."

"Unfortunately, the owner of the house fled the scene before we got there. But from what Nika and a few of the guys were able to give us, we have enough for a rough sketch. I'll keep you updated when we have more information, Seb. We'll find out who did this." Detective Brighton firmly clapped Sebastian on the shoulder before following the doctor and chief from the room, leaving the siblings alone.

Nika slept soundly for three days which the doctors assured Sebastian was normal for the small amount of trauma her body had endured. On the fourth day, he was growing increasingly concerned for his sister's well-being. As he weighed the pros and cons of waiting it out against going to ask Dr. Fuller to recheck Nika's vitals, Sebastian paced back and forth at the foot of her bed.

"Bas, you're going to wear a hole in the floor," Nika said. Her voice sounded rough and scratchy from sleep, but at least she was talking.

Sebastian sighed, relieved. His fingers curled around the two small devices in his right jacket pocket, she wouldn't be able to hear him without them but maybe that was for the best right now. He withdrew his hands from the comfort of his jacket pockets, stood at the foot of Nika's hospital bed and braced himself for the flood of emotion and attitude that would soon pour from his sister like rolling thunder.

"Hey, Sunspot. Glad to see you're awake," Sebastian moved his hands with such a calm fluidity when he signed. He'd learned for Nika when no one else would, it often made moments like this a lot easier for them. "How do you feel?"

"My chest is sore, but it's not too bad. Ready to get the hell out of here, honestly. Hospitals wig me out."

"You're good to go today, but you're out of work until your wrist and burns heal."

Nika rolled her eyes and scoffed indignantly at her brother's instruction. Not working wasn't something she knew how to do, firefighting was in her veins. She sighed.

Sebastian chuckled. "Look, Nik, I know you don't want to hear this. But you need to take some time off, to rest, to heal. Do it for me. Please?" He knew he had her with those last five words; Nika would do anything for her brother.

Two days later, Nika stepped off the plane at Boston Logan International Airport.

She walked through the gate with the crowd, happy to be in a place where her brother wasn't for the time being. She loved Sebastian, loved that he wanted to protect her, but his concern lately had been stifling. Nika needed a break, needed a change of scene. As soon as they'd left the hospital, she called Chris and told him what happened. Without a second thought, he told her to come to Boston, said he'd be there when she landed.

She waded through the sea of people heading for baggage claim, keeping an eye out for Chris's tall frame. She was tired, sore, and just wanted to be somewhere she could relax without thinking of the accident for a while. She needed to take her medication, the dressing on her shoulder and chest needed to be changed, and she desperately needed a drink.

"C'mon, Evans. Where the hell are you?" Nika was just about to break down and call him, when she felt a strong hand wrap around her waist from behind.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to stand around by yourself in an airport?" Chris's smooth Boston accent said in her left ear. He had her backpack slung over his shoulder and her rolling suitcase in his hand. His bright blue eyes sparkled as he smiled down at her. "Ready to go?"

She nodded, signed back, "Ready for the pressure to stop. Thanks for letting me stay with you for a few weeks."

Chris grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, then kissed the top of her head. His voice met her ear once again. "Ah, Nik. What are best friends for, huh?"

Nika hummed. She missed her brother, but she knew she'd be safe with Chris, too. Being out of the game wasn't going to be easy for the youngest Stan sibling, she was used to the fast pace of firefighting; she counted on it as much as she counted on her brother to have her back. Without it, Nika wasn't sure who she was or who she could be.

Till The End of All Things Taglist: @arrowsandmixtapes @pinknerdpanda

[otomefoxystar]

After Hours

Fandom: Kissed by the Baddest Bidder

Pairing: Eisuke X MC

Warning: Smut 

Genre: NSFW

Word Count: 2,222

Written by: @otomefoxystar

She had to turn in her extra credit before the night ended and the campus closed. She came to the offices of the professors, but the lights were dim. She knocked on Professor Ichinomiya’s door, hoping he was still here” “ You may enter” _ _ _ turned the doorknob and came, and saw the professor writing on his laptop. He looked up from what he was doing. “ What can I do for you?” She inhaled deeply, he always made her so nervous. “ I wanted to give you my extra credit” He cocked an eyebrow and took the paper from her. “ This wasn’t due till tomorrow, and by the way you look you rushed to get this here.” “ Seriously? I thought today was Thursday!” He chuckled, and she blushed. His lip pulled up. “ Don’t be embarrassed, it’s just a mistake.” “ At least it’s turned in. I better get home.” Just as she was about to walk out the door when all the lights went out and everything went silent. It was pitch dark, and she couldn’t see. The professor got up from his seat and felt around trying not to run into anything. Finally, he found his way to the doorway where _ _ _ was standing. “ _ _ _? Are you alright?” “ I’ll be okay, it just startled me. There’s no way I’ll be going home if I can’t see my way through the campus.” “ There’s a couch in here. You can sleep there." “ But where will you sleep?” “ On the reclining chair, don’t worry about me.” She would be lying if she said she didn’t have an attraction towards the professor, but this is just awkward. “ Come with me” He grasped her hand and led her over to a futon couch. He used the light on his phone and pulled out the futon. He looked up at her confused face and smirked. “ I sometimes sleep here.” She nodded her head “ Maybe you shouldn’t work yourself so hard” he got some blankets and pillows and made her a bed with the little light he had. “ Thank you” She sat down on the futon and he patted her head. “ Get some sleep” he sat down on his chair and put the recliner out and pulled a blanket over himself.

She had trouble falling asleep knowing that her professor was sleeping not far from her. Eventually, she fell asleep. Eisuke woke up to her moving around and he saw her huddled in a ball wrapped up in the blankets, and he noticed how cold it was. He got up and sat on the futon. “ Hey _ _ _ wake up you’re shivering.” She groaned and opened her eyes. “What are you doing?” She asked still half asleep. “ You were making so much noise moving around it woke me up. Then I realized how cold it is in here.” He took off his shoes and suit jacket “ so we’re going to sleep together to keep each other warm.” What he was suggesting was a bad idea. He might be her professor and her his student. She was cold and her need for warmth overcame her common sense. He slid under the covers right next to her and felt how cold she was. “ You’re freezing, I guess it doesn’t help that you’re under the window. Come closer if we hold each other we should warm up.” She scooted closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his chest. She was cold to the touch, that thin blanket did nothing for her. His hand was right under her breasts, if he slid his hand any higher he would be touching the wire in her bra. She was nervous, but his breath on her neck was turning her on. She wasn’t the only one that was having impure thoughts. He moved her hair to the side and kissed her on the neck. She let out an unintentional moan, and let him kiss down her neck. “ Professor Ichinomiya...” He grimaced at the formality of her calling his name. “ It’s Eisuke, call me by my first name. We’re alone just a man and a woman leave the formalities for the classroom.” She turned to face him and he caught her lips in a fiery kiss of passion. She knew this was wrong, but it felt so good. She let his tongue ravish her mouth. “ You tease me in class, with the way you cross your legs and shake your foot as you write. The way you bend over to get your things, and purposely wait till you know I’m watching.” She gasped “ I didn’t realize you noticed me. I didn’t do those things to get you all hot and bothered.” He combed her hair out of her face. “ I have noticed you, it’s hard not to. I know it’s wrong, I’m your professor. For tonight lets forget about that fact.” The moonlight illuminated their faces, and he reached behind her head. Tangling his fingers in her hair. She stayed silent but didn’t stop him from touching her. He took a finger and lightly touched her skin and drew a line from behind her ear to her collarbone. Then hooked his finger at the top of her shirt. She was breathing hard partly from nerves and partly because her professor was making her have urges she shouldn’t be having. He looked into her eyes waiting for her to say no. He licked down her neck and kissed the top of her chest leaving goosebumps along the way. He reached down and slid his hand under her shirt. He skimmed his hand over her soft skin higher and higher till he reached the bottom of her bra. He kissed her lips as he pulled her shirt up above her breasts. There was no light, except the moon and city lights. He looked up at her with her chest rising and falling heavily. He slid his hand into her bra and cupped the swell of her breast. “ Ahh..Should we be doing this?” He pinched her nipple and rolled it between his fingers. “ Do you really want me to stop?” He pulled his hand away and positioned himself above her and pulled her shirt off. “What if someone walks in ?” He snickered. “No one’s going to walk in it’s pitch dark .” She laid there looking up at him, and he reached behind her and she arched her back. He unhooked her bra and slipped it off her arms. He threw her clothes to the floor and kissed her searching her mouth with his tongue. He kissed her ear and nipped at her lobe. He licked down her neck and pinched both her nipples. He looked down and latched on to her breast leaving a pink blooming mark. He took a nipple into his mouth and ran his tongue over the tip of the hard bud. He suckled and bit down gently. He pulled the skin with his teeth as he let go. “ I've never slept with a student before, but we need to keep this professional treating each other as we have in the past. Do you understand?” She nodded her head slowly. He kissed down her soft stomach, and unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them off. He looked her over, and she sat up so that they were both kneeling on the futon. She proceeded to unbutton his shirt, and take it off his body. She felt the hard planes of his chest with both hands, eliciting a moan from deep within his throat. He brushed his hand over her damp panties and pinched her clit. He rubbed his finger up and down. She immediately went for his belt, and he let her take off his trousers. He stood up and took them off and kicked them to the side. His excitement was obvious from beneath his black boxer briefs. She pulled down his underwear causing his hardening cock to spring free from its restraints. She touched the tip of his cock circling the head with her thumb. She stroked him a few times causing his erection to reach its full hardness. She sat down on her feet and licked him from the tip to the base, and back again. She took as much of him in her mouth that she could without gagging. She began sucking up and down his length bobbing her head, and twisting and rubbing at the base. He tangled his fingers into her hair as she pleasured him. She glided her tongue along his cock as she sucked. His hands gripped tighter at her scalp as she increased the suction at which she sucked. “Let’s not let this be the whole show ... unless you don’t want to have sex.” He said between ragged breaths. She slowed her pace and released his still hard cock from her lips. He latched on to her collarbone as he laid her down. Once he had her on her back he rubbed his nose against hers and kissed her slowly and meaningfully, while he massaged her breast. He kissed down her neck to in between her breasts and licked a line down to her navel. She arched her back, and he smirked as pulled her panties off. He inserted a finger inside of her and pumped it in and out, and he brought his finger up to her clit and used her sweet honey for lubrication. He rubbed her clit up and down causing her to moan. She grabbed the pillow above her head as his fingertip delved into her folds. He pushed his fingers inside her feeling against her walls and she bucked her hips into his hand. “ You want to come bad, don’t you? I’m not going to let you, not yet.” He withdrew his fingers from her heat. She whimpered at the loss of friction. He climbed onto the futon and flipped her over. “ Get on your hands and knees, I’m going to fuck you now.” She did as he asked and he smacked her ass. He got on his knees and entered her, grunting at the feeling of her walls stretching to accommodate his cock. He began to thrust while grasping her hips. all that could be heard was their heavy breathing and moaning.   “ Not too loud now, we don’t know who is in the office with us.” She tried to keep her moaning at bay for fear of getting caught, but every time he hit that spot inside of her she couldn’t help but let out a moan. Her breasts bounced from the force of his thrusts and his nail dug into her skin. He was by no means being gentle with her, but she rocked her hips to meet with his movements. “ Eis.. Eisuke I want to do it on your desk .” He chuckled as he continued to pound into her. He reached up and pulled her hair so that her head jerked backward. and withdrew his cock from her. He stood up and held out his hand to her. She followed, and he sat down on the office chair. She walked over to him and he stopped her from sitting on him, and lifted her on his desk and put his head between her thighs, and sucked on the inside of her thigh leaving a sizeable hickey. Then he spread her legs allowing his head to fall to her heat. “ I want to make sure, you’re still ready for me.” He licked from her slit to her clit, and she grabbed on his hair, he brought her clit into his mouth and nibbled and sucked. She pulled at his hair and he licked up and down her clit with the flat of his tongue. He entered two fingers and felt how wet she was so he stood up and climbed on top of her and laid his body weight onto her and entered her in one swift stroke. She wrapped her legs around his waist as she bucked her hips in sync with him. The wet sounds of their sex were heard along with skin slapping against skin. She wanted to make him come hard so she flexed her walls to tighten her core and he moaned. She grabbed his butt and started going faster. “Harder Eisuke!” He stood up and dragged her to the edge of the desk, and his hips were snapping into her. She was so hot during sex who knew she was such a vixen. With her legs still wrapped around his waist, she reached down and started rubbing her clit, until he started hitting a particular rough patch. She stilled as her climax came crashing down blurring her vision to white and causing her toes to curl while her whole body heated up. Her walls fluttered and Eisuke knew from her face that she was reaching her ecstasy, and he went faster trying to help her ride out her orgasm, but in the process found his own orgasm, and he thrust in her hard then quickly pulled out spilling onto her stomach. He grabbed some tissue from the side of his desk and wiped his essence off of her sweaty body. They were both breathing hard but he helped her up and they laid in the futon still catching their breath. “ I hope I sufficiently warmed you up.” He leaned over and kissed her lips.

[arya-skywalker]

Starved for attention Part 2 (Sanders Sides Fanfic)

Notes: Aiming for 3-4 parts total, hopefully. Sorry for the wait and hope you enjoy! This one’s a bit fluffier.

Also thanks to the TSS Fanworks Server for bouncing ideas around! Apply here to join.

TW: imprisonment, starvation, malnutrition, touch starvation, bathing (implied nudity, no details)

Part 1

~*~

Janus stirred and rubbed his eyes groggily. It was difficult to tell time down here, but something told him it was roughly morning.

“Hey, Fangs.” Virgil was in the cell with him, curled up a few feet away with pillows and blankets. “Lo said you’re touch starved?”

Janus stiffened slightly. “When did you get here?”

“While you were asleep, obviously. Logan let me in,” Virgil said with a half smile. “You look cold. Can I at least give you a blanket?”

Janus nodded slowly. “Yesss.... pleassse.”

Virgil edged closer and gently draped the blanket over his shoulders. “We move at your pace. It’s alright.”

Janus huddled under the blanket, nuzzling the soft fabric. God it felt good. He looked back over at the anxious side. “Sssit next to me?” he asked, hating how small his voice sounded.

Virgil nodded and did so, leaving a few inches between them. “You can... uh... lean against me if you want,” he said.

Warm warm WARM! Janus waited a few minutes to get used to the idea that another person was so close, then hesitantly rested his head on Virgil’s shoulder. “Mm. You’re warm,” he mumbled into the hoodie.

Virgil laughed softly. “Yeah. I know. Do you want my arm around you or nah?”

Janus nodded, closing his eyes and nestling close once he felt the comforting pressure. A good warm. “I misssed you.”

Virgil was silent for a moment. His body tensed ever-so-slightly, but he didn’t let go. “I’m sorry. I was... scared. And I didn’t know.... I didn’t think it would get this bad. How long have you been like this?”

“Sstopped keeping track,” Janus muttered, pulling the blanket closer. “Better not to know.”

“Jan. You know this isn’t good, right? You’re so fucking skinny, I could count all your bones.”

“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed,” Janus drawled, then hummed thoughtfully. “Can I move to your lap? Floor’s cold.”

Virgil sighed. “Sure, whatever.” He gently helped Janus onto his lap, holding him to make sure he didn’t fall. “You know you can’t stay down here much longer.”

“Mmm. You have a better idea?” Janus curled up on his lap, head on Virgil’s chest, soaking up the warmth. “This issss my room now. The ‘dark side’ commonsss are a messs. Any other room could corrupt me, you know that.”

“At least you’d be in an actual bed!” Virgil scowled, then bit his lip. “Unless.... unless we make this place more habitable?”

Janus hugged the pillow and squinted up at Virgil. “Thiss iss a cell. It’s not ssupposed to be comfortable.”

“Who the fuck cares? You’re hurting, Jan. You need help.”

Janus looked away, watching the chains sway. “It could hurt you if you try. I won’t die. I’ll be fine.”

“Janus, look at me. You’re hurting yourself and it sucks. Let us help you.”

Janus’s tongue flicked out, then he sighed and looked back at Virgil. “If the cell fights back, you stop. Clear?”

Virgil smiled grimly. “Yeah. Clear,” he said. “Roman should be able to make some furniture or whatever.”

“Ssstay with me. Pleassse.” Janus closed his eyes tiredly, clinging loosely to Virgil.

“I’m here. Just get some rest, alright?”

Janus wanted to protest, but it was so soft and warm.... He found himself dozing off before he could say another word.

~*~

Janus burrowed into the pile of blankets and pillows. Soft and warm. Exactly what he needed.

But Virgil was gone.

He frowned slightly and sat up, wrapping a blanket around himself. “Virgil?” Janus asked softly. But there was no answer. “Virgil!”

He’s gone. He left you again. He still hates you.

Janus shook his head, hugging a pillow tightly. No. He just.... went to get some food. That has to be it.

Footsteps. Roman’s footsteps.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!” Roman sang, twirling as he approached.

“Mmm. And what if I prefer to sstay coiled up in my nessst?” Janus countered.

Roman huffed. “I brought you more food! And some tea. You like tea better than coffee, right?”

Janus nodded slowly. “Did Virgil....?”

“Yes! He told me all about it! We’re going to make this place fit for nobility,” Roman said, beaming.

Janus shrunk into his nest of pillows. “Nothing too fancy. We don’t want to push our luck,” he replied.

“Ridiculous! You deserve the best, and I will give it to you!”

Janus groaned. “Roman, pleassse!”

Roman blinked. “Oh... you’re being serious?”

Janus glared at him. “Yessss I am.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “Jussst... baby steps. Ssee how the cell reactsss.”

“Well.... I guess,” Roman grumbled, then created a key and opened the cell door.

Again, Janus stared at the doorway. It was so easy for them to open it. Why couldn’t he just...? It wouldn’t hurt anyone... Maybe he could...

Roman strode inside, created a small table by the door, and set the food down. Then he clapped his hands and grinned. “Let’s get started! You’ll need a bed and a chair and a desk and a closet and a fireplace and—“

“Ssstop!” Janus held up his hands, then sighed and shook his head. “Sslow down, Your Highnesss. Remember, keep it ssssimple!”

Roman pouted. “But mon python, you deserve the best!”

“Thiss iss not going to work if you fight me every ssstep of the way,” Janus hissed, glaring up at him. Dammit, he felt so small.

He clenched his jaw, then carefully gathered his feet under himself and used the wall as support to stand. It hurt. His legs wobbled. His head spun. This was a bad idea.

Roman rushed over and caught him. “Whoa now! Careful, my frail flower,” he chided, holding him close.

Janus whined, but clung to him. This was embarrassing. He was Deceit. He was Self-Preservation. It shouldn’t be this hard to stand! “I’m fine,” he spat.

Roman scooped him up, which certainly didn’t help. “Here now, I’ve got you!”

Janus squeezed his eyes shut, hiding his face in Roman’s sash. Too fast. Too high. He felt Roman tense as the prince realized his error.

“Oh. Do you want me to put you down?”

“Mmm. Make a bed and put me down on it. A sssimple twin bed. Nothing fancy.”

“How boring!” Roman complained, but with a flourish he did so. “Fine. How’s that?”

Janus took a deep breath and looked at the bed, running his hand across the blanket. It was not too hard, not too soft. Certainly better than the floor and pillow nest. Luckily not too fancy either— light yellow cloth, metal frame with vague snake designs. “Thank you. This is perfect, my prince,” he said, resting his head on the pillow.

Roman beamed at the praise. “Oh goodie! What next?”

Janus hesitated, looking around the cell that had been his home for.... he didn’t even want to know how long. “I don’t need much, my prince,” he said.

Roman tapped his foot. “I know! Lights!” He snapped his fingers, making a large iron candelabra appear with half-melted candles, as well as twining fairy lights around some of the chains.

Janus sighed. “Very pretty, Your Highnesss, but I don’t—“

“Books! You like to read, right? You need a bookshelf!” Roman made a bookshelf appear. “What sort of books? Classics, of course....”

Janus felt a smile tug at his lips. “Forbidden love? With a side of anarchy?”

“Of course, charm snakelet!” Roman beamed, filling the shelves with various books. “What about music?” A record player materialized on top of the bookshelf.

“My prince, you ssspoil me rotten.” Goodness, when was the last time he had actual entertainment? He reached for Roman’s hand. “Come here, pleassse.”

Roman immediately knelt by the bedside and took Janus’s gloved hand, kissing it lightly. “I’m here, treasure,” he said.

Janus looked around the cell. It was already so much better.... but yet, the grime from before remained. “My prince?” he asked quietly.

“Yes charm snakelet?” Roman replied with a dazzling smile.

Janus blushed faintly. “I.... if you don’t mind.... do you think you could.... help me bathe?” He asked sheepishly. “I know I’m disgusting at the moment but...”

Roman snapped his fingers, making a claw-foot bathtub appear, already filled with steaming water and floral-scented soaps.

Janus sank into the bed. “Oh thank goodnessssss.....”

Roman gently helped him to the bath. “You’ll be shining like the sun in no time!”

“Mmmm.... thank you,” Janus murmured, carefully slipping into the warm bath. Clean. He would finally be clean again.

Roman’s touched was light, as if Janus were made of glass that could break at any second. But the bath was soothing as any massage. Once done, Roman wrapped him in heated towels before helping him change into clean clothes.

“Thank you, my prince,” Janus murmured, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

~*~

Logan visited yet again. “May I take your vitals now?” he asked.

Janus sighed. “We are imaginary. I don’t know what you think you’ll find,” he muttered.

“Your metaphysical state reflects that of a human. Well, in your case, half-human and half-reptilian. We cannot die, but we can become ill. If I find an issue that can be remedied, you will recover sooner.” Logan adjusted his tie.

Janus stared at him for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. “Very well. Do what you must.”

Logan opened the cell door and stepped inside. Janus looked away to avoid staring at the taunting path. He remained still as Logan checked his pulse, his lungs, his reaction times, and anything else that he could.

“I... have a hypothesis,” Logan said slowly.

“Do sshare with the classss,” Janus drawled.

Logan frowned. “There is no class—“

“Figure of speech. Continue, please.”

Logan cleared his throat. “I believe that observing some memories of when Thomas has utilized your function may help expedite your recovery,” he said carefully.

Janus blinked. “Watching memories of him lying and putting himself first and such?” he clarified.

“Yes, exactly.” Logan reached into his briefcase and pulled out a small box. “I have one here.”

“Does Patton know?” Janus looked at the box warily.

Logan adjusted his tie. “No, not yet. I made sure to choose a memory related to his education so it would be less suspicious.”

Janus took a deep breath and held out his hands. “Alright. Let me sssee it,” he said.

“Please tell me if you feel anything... strange,” Logan said, then placed the box on Janus’s open palm.

Janus opened the box, trying to ignore how much his hands were shaking. A warm light filled the room and the memory played out before his eyes.

Thomas, laying in bed, coughing— definitely a fake cough— begging his mother to let him stay home from school. Somehow she believed it. But as soon as the door closed, Thomas bolted to his feet and ran downstairs. He made himself breakfast of frozen waffles piled high with various sweets and put on the tv to watch The Office. A mental health day. Thomas was playing hooky to a day to himself. And apparently catch up on homework, but whatever.

Janus gasped once the memory faded and closed the box, feeling a burst of energy.

“Did it work?” Logan asked.

“I... think sssso,” Janus said slowly.

“How do you feel?”

“As if I downed an expresso with a chocolate pastry. A jolt of energy that will likely come crashing down in the not-so-distant future.” Janus tightened his grip on the box. “May I keep it?”

Logan wrote something down, then frowned. “Of course not. I must return the memory to Patton. Please hand it over.”

Janus hissed, recoiling with the box in his arms. “Sssay you losst it!”

“I will not engage in falsehoods if it can be easily avoided. Deceit, give me the memory, please.”

Janus glared at him. “Don’t want to.”

“You are being unreasonable.”

“Don’t care.”

“Deceit—“

Janus bared his fangs. “Get out!”

Logan took a step back. “I am only trying to help you without hurting Thomas or Patton. Surely you understand?”

Janus glared at him, holding the memory close to his chest. His tongue flicked out. “One day,” he said finally. “Let me keep it for one day. Then I will give it back.”

Logan hesitated. “You should not watch it too many times. Thomas might notice and begin obsessing over the memory.”

“Noted.”

Logan bowed his head and left, once again locking the door behind himself. Janus waited until the logical side was gone before rewatching the memory. His strength would return in time. He simply had to be patient.

[virtueangel]

limitless.

chapter four.

wc: 3,109. original publish date: october 7, 2020. 

JFK starts the car forty-five minutes later. He turns the key in the ignition cautiously, silently begging the car not to make too much noise. Van Gogh is asleep in the passenger's seat. The car whirrs to life and Kennedy doesn't rev the engine this time. He turns to Van Gogh and smiles slightly. He realises for the first time that the boy is wearing his old junior varsity cross-country jacket.

***

Van Gogh wakes up some time later. He stretches before opening his eyes. He rubs the sleep out of them as they adjust to the darkness. The cool outside air seeps in through the windows and suddenly he wishes he'd brought gloves. Gogh plunges his balled fists into the pockets of Kennedy's -- his -- letterman jacket. The boy inhales deeply through his nose as he takes in the scenery, seeing nothing but pine trees lining the outstretch of the quiet highway in front of them. There are no cars in sight. No buildings or houses or rest stops. There are a few white markers shoved into the ground next to the road, but most of them are bent or broken -- probably from swerving cars crushing them out of shape.

"Where are we?" He asks in his small voice, foggy sleep still tugging at his throat.

JFK turns his head ever so slightly, as if to make sure his best friend is really awake and he's not just hearing things. Satisfied with the reality of the boy, he nods toward the built-in GPS screen. "One hundred three miles outside of Exclamation!," he replies.

Van Gogh furrows his brow at the machine. "Yeah, but I mean where."

"I just told you."

Gogh gives up and sits back in his seat. He opens his mouth to nag Kennedy about turning on the seat heater, but the button is already illuminated. He smiles to himself.

"How long have you been driving?" He asks a couple minutes later, his eyelids weighing down again.

Kennedy scrunches up his nose. "Over an hour."

"I was asleep the whole time?"

JFK nods in affirmation. Van Gogh stares at his side profile, his eyes tracing his pointy nose and thin lips. His gel is wearing off, causing his brown hair to flop around his ears and the top of his head a little bit. Kennedy blinks slowly, and Gogh does the same, almost in solidarity.

"Are you tired?"

JFK shakes his head, but he's squinting.

"You're tired," Gogh decides. He's only met with a shrug.

"Let me drive," he tries daringly.

Suddenly, Kennedy is miraculously alert. He straightens his back and he opens his eyes up fully. "You can't drive, Van Gogh. You don't know how."

Van Gogh shrugs, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "You could teach me."

The car fills up with silence again, but it's a different kind than when Van Gogh was asleep and JFK was lost in his own head.

Van Gogh tilts the face of his digital wristwatch upwards to read the time. "It's 11:30, Kennedy."

"Is it?" He asks absently.

"We should stop somewhere. We could both sleep."

"I don't even know where we are," JFK protests.

Van Gogh rolls his eyes. "You're the one who said we didn't need a plan."

Kennedy nods, his motions sticking with the rebuff of tiredness. "I haven't seen any signs for miles. Think we should just get off somewhere?"

Van Gogh shrugs agreeably. "I don't see why not."

JFK pulls down his turn signal and the car hums with melodic clicks as he changes lanes. He slows down the vehicle each time he passes over the dotted white lines even though they have the highway all to themselves. He follows the rules when he's alone -- Van Gogh can't help but think that's something he was never supposed to know.

Kennedy exits the highway seamlessly, and stops the car at the intersection. The traffic light is glowing red even though all the other lanes are empty. Van Gogh always thought there was some sort of censor in the road that knew when cars were pulled up to the lines, waiting to be dictated through the intersection. He wonders when he'd started thinking that, who'd told him, if it was true. He pulls the cuffs of Kennedy's -- his -- letterman jacket over his hands and brings his knees to his chest, balling himself up in the warmth of the seat heater. Even with no snow on the ground, the town of God-Knows-Where is having as harsh of an April as Exclamation! is.

The town looks just like every common roadside stop -- clean sidewalks, towering lampposts with chipping paint, empty convenience store parking lots sprinkled with litter, barren gas stations lit by buzzing yellow lights. In the dead of night, the whole world freezes and the town looks like a photograph on a gift shop postcard. Van Gogh wishes he'd packed his camera so he could capture it in all its drowsily nostalgic glory.

Finally the traffic light glows green and Kennedy turns left, driving the car into the centre of town. There's a park with chemically green grass, visible even under the moonlight alone. In the middle of the lawn is a white statue that seems to be made of marble.

"That's just cement," Van Gogh says.

"Hm?"

He points out the window. "That statue. It's supposed to look like marble but it's not actually."

JFK nods, and then smiles. "That's kinda dumb."

Van Gogh smiles in return and sneaks a glance at the boy. "Yeah, it is."  

With a controlled turn of the steering wheel, the car glides blissfully around the park. Kennedy continues to drive, but slower than the speed limit. Van Gogh, balled up and shaking from the cold, still manages to stare out the window at the sleepy neighbourhood, wrapped in a blanket of the night. Some of the houses have their porch lights on. Some have cars parked in the driveway, others on the street. All of the houses look the same, and it reminds Van Gogh of his own neighbourhood, only posher. The houses are two stories and their porches are made out of poured concrete rather than splintering wood. The doors have brass knockers and the windows are French, full of panes and feminine glass. Van Gogh wouldn't mind living in a photocopied world if it was at least a picturesque one.

"Do you think there'll be a motel in this town?" JFK asks, penetrating Gogh's quiet bewilderment.

He turns his attention away from the window and onto the driver. "Probably not a motel, but maybe some small family-owned inn."

"I don't see one."

"That's because you're in the residential part of the town," Van Gogh scoffs, the magic of the anemoia wearing off. "It'll probably be back where the gas station and stuff was."

When Kennedy turns toward Van Gogh, he looks almost disappointed.

"You wanna look at the houses some more, Gogh?"

Gogh shakes his head, but the movement is mechanical. His eyelids drop and he has to blink fast to keep himself alert.

Kennedy sighs in serenity rather than exasperation and pulls into the driveway of one of the cookie-cutter houses to make a three-point turn. He reverses the direction of the car with ease and continues through the town, driving slowly enough to quiet the noise of the engine but quickly enough to get Van Gogh into a bed before he can fall asleep in the car.

The inn is small and the parking lot is empty of all cars. Unlike the convenience store parking lot, this one is clean, and the bushes along the sidewalk and the edge of the lot are perfectly manicured. JFK pulls into the spot closest to the long, wooden stairs leading up to the porch. The building looks almost like a house from the outside, only longer,  like a mansion made of common shingles and dusty edges.

The sign doesn't have a full or vacant indicator on it, but Kennedy guesses it's the latter due to the nature of the parking lot. He reaches over and rests a hand on Van Gogh's shoulder gently. Van Gogh blinks and looks up at him, his eyes wide with innocence. Kennedy smiles softly. "I found an inn."

Van Gogh unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the car door. JFK does the same on his side of the vehicle and they walk up the stairs together. The wooden porch groans under their weight and Van Gogh steps the rest of the way across it quickly, a nagging thought in the back of his mind telling him it'll break if they don't get off of it soon.

JFK pushes through the door of the inn first and holds it for Van Gogh. He huddles close to the taller boy as he walks, his stomach somersaulting with each step he takes. The inside of the inn is dimly lit and furnished with consonant floral wallpaper, every wall a different pattern and colour. The lobby itself isn't very large: room just enough for a fireplace decorated with pictures of past tenants on one wall, a congregation of chairs and a game table set in front of it; a wide, dark hallway across from it, where Van Gogh can just barely make out the white railing of a grand staircase; a tall bookshelf exploding with leather bound novels, complete with shiny gold lettering snaking down the spines on the third wall; and on the fourth, a bored woman collapsed against a desk, a clunky old computer in front of her and a stack of travel guides by her elbow. She's tall, lean, and pale, with short magenta hair and a face full of piercings. In this light, she looks like Joan of Arc -- but Van Gogh knows she's back at home in Exclamation!, probably spending her Friday night sulking.

The girl doesn't react even as JFK steps up to the desk. He leans against it, batting his lashes at her in his overly flirtatious nature. Van Gogh rolls his eyes and walks up next to his friend to ring the bell, stomping his heel down on it.

"Hi there. What can I do for you?" The girl drones in a monotonous voice.

"We'd like a room," Gogh says before JFK can make a snarky comment.

"Great. How many beds?" She asks, still in her flat tone.

Van Gogh can see Kennedy turn toward him to consult out of the corner of his eye, but impulsively answers the girl before he can talk to JFK. "Two."

The girl sucks on one of her snake bites as she punches the keys on the slow computer. Van Gogh watches her intently now, wondering if this is one of her anxious habits. She seems to fidget with her piercing the way JFK chews gum.

"You look like my friend," Van Gogh blurts suddenly, not sure why he felt the need to tell her, or why he referred to Joan of Arc as his "friend". He's talked to her once or twice on the teen crisis hotline (which Kennedy could never know about), and she's JFK's friend, but Van Gogh doesn't have time to think about making friends. John F. Kennedy is enough for him.

"Oh, yeah?" The girl replies absently.

Van Gogh doesn't say anything more. JFK's smile fades.

"Okay, here you are," she says, pulling a key off one of the nails stuck into the wall behind her and handing it to Kennedy. "Room one-oh-four."

"You have one hundred four rooms in this place?" Gogh asks.

The girl shrugs. "Probably not. I think the rooms start in the triple digits."

"That's dumb," Kennedy replies, and Van Gogh wonders if he'd said it himself since he'd opened his mouth.

Thankfully, the girl -- secretary? -- doesn't take offence. "Yeah, I think so too. But I guess there's more ring to the three-digit numbers than anything else."

"How much?" Kennedy asks, pulling his wallet out of the pocket of his letterman jacket.

"How many nights?"

"One," Van Gogh says before he or Kennedy can think.

"Like twenty-six dollars? I don't know. No one ever stays here."

"What town are we in, anyway?" JFK asks, swiping his card through the machine.

"Blackbox."

"Well, I'd say that's why no one ever stays here," Van Gogh retorts.

The girl's eyes narrow. "Why? Where are you two from?" She scrutinises the boys.

"Exclamation!," Kennedy replies.

"With an exclamation point on the end," Gogh admits.

The girl laughs. "Oh man, and you're criticising this town?"

Both boys stare at her blankly. She rolls her eyes and pulls a travel guide out from the stack next to her. She fishes a pen out of one of the drawers on her side of the desk and bites the cap off with her teeth. She holds the plastic piece in her mouth as she scribbles something down. When she's finished, she sets the pen on the desk and takes the cap out from her teeth before covering the pen with it and throwing it back into the drawer. She flips around the guide so it faces Kennedy and Gogh.

"This is Marshtown," she says, pointing at a circled spot on the map with her finger.

"Is there a marsh there?" Van Gogh asks. "It's a lazy name either way."

The girl takes a moment to think, sucking on her snake bite again. "I think so. But it might've gotten its name because it's foggy there all the time -- like, all the time. There's no ocean to blow a breeze over or anything. I think it's just like that. But anyway, you should check it out. Think this place is creepy?"

Both Kennedy and Van Gogh nod without looking at each other.

The girl smirks, and continues. "If you want a real kick, go there. I've been there with my boyfriend a few times."

"Oh, we're not-" the boys start to explain at the same time, their cheeks glowing pink and their temperatures rising.

The secretary girl smirks again. "Whatever. It'd still be fun to go."

Kennedy pulls his card out of the reader as it beeps. To the girl, he says, "thanks." He turns to Van Gogh, handing him the door key. "Go find our room. I'll go get our bags from the car."

Van Gogh opens his mouth to protest, but Kennedy is looking at him with his intense stare again. He decides to let it go. He nods, mumbles a quick "thank you" to the secretary, and heads toward the grand staircase. He shudders as he walks through the darkness, the cold suddenly burrowing deeper than it did when he was outside. He pulls Kennedy's -- his -- letterman jacket more tightly around him.

He climbs the staircase, the wood hard beneath his Keds. Van Gogh trails his hand along the railing as he walks, steadying himself as he observes all the gold-framed paintings hung along the wall. They're all oil-painted people he's never seen before -- very much different from Exclamation!, where he's met the clone of all the people in the paintings. These faces look respectable, but common, like they're only made to seem like they're important. Van Gogh exhales. Maybe it would be nicer here, where he isn't constantly reminded of how he'll never be the man whose DNA he shares.

Eventually, Gogh makes it to the top of the stairs and pries his interest away from the paintings. There's a sign tacked to the wall directly in front of him: rooms one hundred through one hundred fifty to his left, rooms one hundred fifty-one through two hundred on his right. He turns left and walks almost all the way to the end of the hall, turning to open the door marked one hundred four. The key slides into the lock easily, but the door takes an extra push to open.

Inside is the same hideously mismatched wallpaper as the lobby and atrociously unclean carpet as the hallways. There are two queen beds side by side with their headboards against the wall to the left of the door. Where the wallpaper peels, Van Gogh can tell that the room itself is painted a mossy green, which clashes with the already clashing patterned duvet covers on the beds. There's one window shielded by sheer white curtains and an old white space heater beneath the windowsill. There's no desk, but there's a stone fireplace on the wall across from the beds. Thankfully, there are no framed pictures of past tenants. Van Gogh couldn't sleep with them watching him.

The boy steps all the way into the room and closes the door behind him. In the space behind the door is another door. He pushes it open. It leads into a large bathroom, complete with a heavy mirror and speckled yellow tile on the floor and lining the shower wall. Van Gogh closes that door and looks around the room, feeling that there's something missing.

There's no closet or dresser. Great. Good thing they're only staying one night, because he'll have to live out of his suitcase. He can't stand to think that he'll have to refold all the clothes he rifles through after getting dressed each morning.

Gogh claims the bed closest to the window and sits in the middle of it. He's just begun to untie his shoes when the door pushes open. Van Gogh sinks in on himself, terrified of what could be trying to break in.

"Relax, relax! It's only me," Kennedy laughs, throwing his hands up in defeat.

Van Gogh scrunches his nose. "Took you long enough."

Kennedy pushes Van Gogh's brown suitcase and it rolls across the carpet to him. "Here. I thought you might want this."

"Thanks," Gogh mutters, pulling off his shoes and sliding off the bed.

***

By the time JFK and Van Gogh have showered and changed into bed-appropriate clothing, it's nearly 1:15 in the morning.

"We should go to sleep," Kennedy suggests, sitting up in bed and readying himself to go turn off the light.

Van Gogh shakes his head. "No. I'm wide awake now."

Kennedy gives him sleepy eyes, still holding himself up on his elbows. "How long do you need?"

In the low lighting, JFK is made of soft edges and rounded corners. His mound of brown hair is fully flopping over his face now without the gel, and every thirty seconds or so the boy has to push it out of his eyes. The collar of his grey Harvard shirt hangs off of his neck to reveal his collarbones, and his eyes are heavy with sleep. Van Gogh's pencil scratches against his sketchbook.

"Fifteen minutes," Kennedy mandates.

Van Gogh takes another look at the boy and smiles. "Fine by me."

He starts to draw.

[knowltonsrangers]

is enough, enough?

Nathan Hale x reader

[a/n: I offer you an extremely self-indulgent fic because,, I am literally in love with this man.]

Sometimes, it comes in random fleeting passes of intense questions, basically interrogating yourself if you handled something the right way.

Other times, it’s when you know you haven’t.

Your phone continues to buzz, lighting up and illuminating the dark bedroom you’ve cornered yourself into. Watching the messages filter in, you hardly move an inch, feeling the itch of brimming tears and the tension gather in your shoulders.

Just stop.

Make it stop.

Please.

So you switch the phone to silent, grabbing it forcefully off the comforter and stomping into the living room. Crossing the floor, you peer around until your eyes fall on Nathan’s desk.

Sliding his top drawer open, you deposit your phone inside and slam it shut, retreating back to your room in a flurry of mixed anger and confusion.

When Nathan returns home, he simply thinks you’re at the library, or enjoying your day off elsewhere. He heaves a sigh, throwing his bag on his desk chair, noticing the tiniest bit of light filtering through his cracked desk drawer.

Odd.

He thinks, trying to think back to when he’s opened the top left drawer last. It’s full of rubber bands and thumb tacks, nothing that he would need on a daily basis.

So curiosity getting the better of him, he slides the drawer open and is perplexed to find your phone.

“y/n?”

Nathan moves quickly, snatching the device and stuffing it into his pocket, sock-clad feet sliding across the floor as he pushes onwards to your room.

“Where are you? What’s going on?”

Fear rises in his stomach, hastily reaching out for the knob, yanking on it with two hands.

It moves, but does not open.

“Since when do you have a lock?!”

He’s just about ready to throw his shoulder through the door, stepping back to get a good running start, when he hears the door open.

“I don’t,”

You say, staring up at him under thick lashes, huddled under a blanket that wraps around your entire body. Nathan breathes a sigh of relief, but the instant it leaves his lips, he’s propping his hands on his hips, trying to figure out what’s happened to you.

“I think the door was stuck…”

You’re speaking once more, trying to hide the warble in your voice, and as much as you try, Nathan catches it.

“Who’s hurt you?”

It’s a three word sentence —four, if you’re likely to count the contraction—and it makes the sob you had been suppressing come to life, hand reaching up to smack your lips with a shaky palm.

“My y/n, my absolute world, who has hurt you?”

In a display of strength that he in no way hides, Nathan leans forward and scoops you into his arm, blanket and all. Holding you close, he tucks loose strands of hair behind your ear until you begin to speak.

“I thought I made the right choice,”

You cry, leaning into his warm palm with your rosy cheeks, sputtering out your woes.

“Is this about work?”

Nathan knows all to well about working his bum off, and he knows that you’ve been suffering after quitting one of your two jobs. At a place so crummy, no wonder the people who worked there were all the same.

He watches as you nod glumly.

“They been bothering you about putting your notice in?”

You bob your head once more.

“Love, do yourself a favor, for me, okay?”

Leaning towards your bleary eyes, he gently rests his forehead against yours, close enough that you can catch the beginning of his scar, and his piercing azure eyes.

“You don’t owe them anything. They can say all the nasty things they’d like, because no matter what they say, it doesn’t make it right. Delete all those messages. They aren’t even worth it for you to glance at.”

Nathan was always right. He always was, and no matter in moments of deep despair when you just wanted to push everyone away—his placid voice always beckoned you to listen.

“I can’t stand the sight to see you cry,”

He swipes a thumb across one of your tear-stained cheeks, nose brushing against yours in a beat of silence.

“Thank you.”

You whisper, hoping that it’s enough to convey how much he has helped you over the course of the past five minutes.

“No, no. I only take payment in smiles.”

As if you could sense it, his hand comes to your stomach, running cold fingers down your torso and hips.

Unable to contain it, you burst into a fit of laughter, twisting and turning to try and release from his hold. If anything, he squeezes tighter, jostling you as his flaxen hair bounces slightly to fall in front of his face.

“There’s my y/n.”

He exhales slowly, running the pad of his thumb along your cheek once more, sliding away any straggling tears.

“We’ll get through it together, just like we always do.”

And like always: you believe him.

[a/n: whehdjnejek I just want to be held by this man is that too much to ask?? 😞✊]

[an-absolute-travesty]

Royal Screw-Ups

It’s time, the final chapter is here 

*Sobbing*

I won’t get too sappy on you guys here, since I got pretty sappy at the end of thing on Wattpad

But yeah. Thanks if you’ve been reading this long. I have more plans for this world (i have some plans for a few oneshots) but for this moment, we are closing out this story

If you’re looking for the rest of the story, it can be found on my wattpad @ohwowhatethis, under the tags “kotlc fic” and “keefex” on my blog, or under the cut on my pinned post

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed, just for this story or as a whole): @you-are-the-vacker-legacy @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlykeefitz @percabetn @vibing-in-the-void @sewersewersewercouch @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @enbies-and-felonies @blxckh0les42​ @rainbowtay-11 @callas-starkflower-stew @impostertamsong @appalyneinstitute1 @stars-and-splendor @anna-without-an-e

Chapter 8:

Word count: 3,677

Warnings: swearing, cassi-ass being an ass, destruction, fire, chaos, etc.

Three months of planning later, servants scurried around the property in preparation for the ceremony the next day. A glass dome had been built in the center of the property to house it.

Tam and Linh had arrived soon after they had their first meeting, luckily Tam and Fitz weren’t as lovey-dovey in real life as they were in their letters. However, Marella and Linh very much made up for it. The moment they met the guard and the princess had a connection, the sweet talk was almost too much to bear.  

In fact, all of them had grown quite close over the past months. Who knew low-level treason could bring people together so. 

Of course, not nearly as close as he’d like with a certain person, but closer for sure. Every week they met back up at the library to work out bumps in their plan, clean up the absurd amount of paper Keefe used in drawing out his first plan, or just sit and talk. Today would be their last before the big day. 

Keefe watched over Dex’s shoulder as he made his final tinkers on the device he had been working on.  

“How’s it looking Techmaster?”

“Eh, having more metal makes everything easier but...it’s one use only, so I can’t test it. We just have to hope for the best.”

“Well, I have faith in you. Your genius brain could make anything.”

Dex rolled his eyes. Keefe wanted to subtly touch him to see if his blatant flirting had been noticed, but it felt wrong to. He had been stuck in the dark for the last 3 months. 

Everyone else ran their lines around the room. Everyone besides Sophie who, as typical of her, looked half way sick in the corner. 

Keefe sat down next to her on the floor.

“Alright, what’s up Foster, have you acquired a stomach bug?” 

She giggled. “No...it’s just…” She sighed. “It feels wrong, y’know? I mean...I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

“You’re really doing the opposite of hurting people though, I mean you’re making them happy.”

“Not happy, hysterical. Yeah it can be happy, but not in the way we’re doing it. Trust me, it’s not fun to watch.”

Keefe thought for a moment.

“Hey...your parents have that griffin, right?”

~*~

The sound of a wedding march echoed through the castle lawn as Sophie was led down the isle by her father. Keefe guessed she looked quite lovely in her dress, Biana, who stood as her maid of honor, was looking at her more like a husband would than him. He stood frozen at the alter, Fitz beside him as his best man and everyone else interspersed within the crowd for optimal dramatic effect. 

Sophie reached him at long last. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t look sickly this time. Her face steeled with determination gave him confidence. 

The guy marrying them together was one of Cassius’ officials. Keefe didn’t bother to remember most names anymore, but this one was a...Moland? Noland? Something like that. 

Everyone winced in unison as the man started talking, Keefe’s ears began to ring a bit at the volume.

“Lords and Ladies, we are gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of our young Prince Keefe Sencen and the lovely Miss Sophie Foster-Ruewen.”

Keefe only realized he was fidgeting when Fitz subtly reached out and held his hand down from where it had been tapping on his leg.

“We are honored to be joined by so many friends and family. The Goom and Bride are overjoyed you all could be here to participate in this most important occasion.

“There are few greater joys in life than finding someone we truly connect with. Creatives have many names for this, a spark, clicking, but let us say today what it truly is: love.”

Keefe looked out into the crowd, he caught the eye of Dex. The redhead’s brow was crinkled and his cheeks flushed slightly. He pat the pocket of his coat in confirmation. 

“Love is what these two young souls have found in each other. In love, our truest selves are revealed. We open ourselves up and break down our walls. The veil we present to the public is lifted so we can be loved for who we are, not who we pretend to be.”

Keefe struggled to not roll his eyes. He took a final look around the room, each person nodding as he met eyes with them.

“Over these months, our Bride and Groom have developed a strong bond. This bond will only get stronger throughout the course of their marriage. Let us revel in the joy and love displayed in front of us today. May we treasure these memories as Prince Keefe and Miss Sophie get set to begin their new life together.”

Keefe took a deep breath, knowing the next words out of his mouth.

“If anyone has cause to object the forming of this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

3, 2, 1…

“I object!” 

0.

Stina first. “This marriage was meant to be mine! She’s just a dirty commoner!”

“How dare you!” Fitz cut in before anyone else could. “I object because I love her! Sophie is meant to be with me. Maruca has admitted her love to Keefe, let her marry him!”

Biana gasped dramatically. “Maruca you snake! You knew I loved him.”

“You only loved his title!” She screamed, standing up to match the rest. “And Fitz, if you’re so concerned with what Stina has to say about Sophie, you should hear what Wylie has to say.”

Fitz walked in Wylie’s direction and he stood. “Why you little-”

Just then, Keefe heard it. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP.

BOOM.

An explosion burst a small part of the glass dome’s ceiling. Sophie let out an ear-splitting whistle and the griffin flew straight through the hole as the glass fell. Screams erupted through the room as the animal landed on chairs and destroyed the alter. 

The screams only got louder as the room was lit up as bright as the sun before swiftly being plunged into darkness. Those involved in the plan used the opportunity to gather themselves at the exit. With the exception of Biana and Marella who, if all went as planned, stood prepared by the very flammable reception tables. 

The darkness lifted and people quickly ran out, some of the more stuck up nobles guided by guards. Once everyone was out safely, Keefe watched as a red glow started and grew. Marella wasn’t visible, but anyone paying attention could see the two sets of footprints forming in the grass.

People ran farther from the dome swiftly filling with fire. It spread quickly, but before it could reach the outside, Linh yelled. 

“Everyone back up!”

She pulled water from a nearby pond, making a large wave that, while it put out the fires, crushed the dome in its entirety. 

~*~

Two hours later, the guests sat huddled in the ballroom of the castle, many wrapped in blankets and eating soup the kitchen served to recover from what they had been through. Through the window, Keefe saw the Ruewen parents attempting to calm their griffin after taking a long time to wrangle it. 

They were good at keeping secrets, they brought the animal here in the first place. 

Just as he started crossing the room to go talk to Dex, he felt a heavy hand grip his shoulder.

Cassius looked at him with a glare that could kill ten men. He wordlessly guided Keefe in the direction of his office and the prince obliged. 

When Keefe walked in the door, it was messier than he had ever seen it. Even his father himself was disheveled, his typically slick-backed hair uncharacteristically sloppy and his tunic smudged with soot. He sat down at his desk and heaved a sigh.  

“Do you know why I brought you in here?” 

“Because my wedding was destroyed?”

“Because we are going to plan a new one. I need you to collect everyone who had objections to get this idiotic drama cleared for the records. I’ve sent for Councillor Bronte, he can officiate you. You will have a wedding today, whether you get the ceremony or not.”

“One problem with that, Biana and Marella haven’t been found.”

Technically the truth. They were to hide in the Queen’s Gardens until further notice, but the Guard Force didn’t know that. 

Cassius was silent for a moment, his face hidden in his hands.

Then he started convulsing.

No, not convulsing.

Laughing.

“Of course!” He got up from his chair in one movement. “Of course they haven’t been found! Why am I even surprised anymore.” He threw his hands in the air. “Nothing ever goes right!” He spoke through his teeth as he pushed everything off of his desk.

“MY MARRIAGE” He cleared a bookshelf with one arm, dumping the junk to the ground. 

“MY LEADERSHIP!” He knocked over his chair.

“MY SON!” He grabbed the painting from the wall and threw it down. 

“ALL DISAPPOINTMENTS!” He pushed over his desk, it landed with a loud crash.

“And now this too? Nothing ever goes right! No matter how hard I try! No matter how much work I put in! Everything ends in failure!”

“It’s a good thing this was my wedding and not yours then.”

The door behind them opened without a knock. 

“King Cassius, is this a bad time?” Bronte looked at the office with contempt. 

“No, now works.”

Despite not being formally invited in, Bronte sat down on the overturned desk and pulled out a folder of paperwork. 

“So...we’re trying to do an emergency wedding, yes?”

Cassius nodded.

“And from my understanding, there were 1,2...4 objections that haven’t been cleared?”

Cassius nodded again.

“Then I’m afraid I can’t perform a wedding. Legally or morally considering the fact that fate itself seems against this union. It is traditional, when a wedding goes so badly, to accept that something in the universe is not accepting of the marriage and call it off.”

“I understand, Councillor. However, I am the goddamned king and you will do as I say!

Bronte was unfazed.

“Actually sir, with only a month until the coronation you have resigned some of your duties, as is customary. You don’t have full control over the law at the moment, you signed a contract.”

He pulled said contract out of his pocket, displaying the signature, before putting it back in.

“Prince Keefe and you now have split control, as you had when you had a spouse. You both must agree if you are to override a law.”

Cassius hid his face once again.

“Go. Get out of my sight.”

Keefe turned to leave but his father grabbed him.

“Just Bronte.”

The man shrugged and closed the door behind him.

“Keefe...do you know why I was so eager to get you in as king?”

Keefe said nothing. That was one thing he couldn’t figure out himself. 

“I am a shitty, shitty, king. I was never made to rule. Your mother? Yes. Yes she was. Me? No. Not at all. I thought I could do this job, I thought it would be cushy, I thought I’d have all the power in the kingdom as well as riches upon riches without having to work. I was wrong.

“I wanted to train you to do this better than I ever could. I wanted to make sure you were going to be prepared.”

“No.” Keefe’s eyes started to water in anger. “You wanted to train me up to take your job as soon as possible. You didn’t want the responsibility so you decided to hand it off to your child. It’s just like...it’s just like Mom. You were the judge and the jury but you were too much of a coward to be the executioner or even a mourner. You hand off all your problems for someone else to deal with. You’re a fucking coward and nothing else.”

“I cared Keefe!-”

“NO YOU DIDN’T.” Tears streamed down his face. “You never cared about me, you never cared about Mom, you never cared for anything or anybody but yourself. 

“I don’t love Sophie and I never will, but you tried to make me marry her because you loved the idea of the strong son with a quiet woman. That shows how much you care.”

“It was what I thought was best.”

“WELL YOU WERE WRONG.”

Keefe walked out and slammed the door. 

~*~

Keefe went to his room and sobbed. He rarely indulged himself in crying but today was one of the days he let himself. It was maybe an hour later, when he was out of tears and just laid staring up at his ceiling, that he heard a knock on the door.

When he opened it, no one stood there. Just a small note in scratchy handwriting. 

“Meet us at the library, midnight”

~*~

Keefe carefully sneaked through the castle halls, only the candle he held lit his way. He slowly cracked open the library door.

“SURPRISE!”

Suddenly a whole group of people attacked him in a hug, rainbow lights filled the normally dull room. 

“W-what is all this?”

“It’s a surprise party silly!” For the first time since he’d seen her, Sophie looked truly happy. “We don’t have to get married! And we got out of it without any serious injuries.”

Fitz pulled him over to a table. “C’mon, Bi stole some leftover cake no one ate from the kitchens.”

He looked around for Dex hoping to see his beaming smile and instead saw him sitting solemnly in the corner. He didn’t look Keefe’s way. 

“Hey Fee, are you okay?” Apparently Fitz just now noticed his still puffy face.

“Yeah um...just my dad being a jerk again. Don’t worry about it.”

Fitz shrugged it off, he knew about jerky dads.

Or he used to, anyway. That bastard Alden ran away a long time ago. 

Keefe tried to partake in the festivities but he found it hard. He was going to be king in a month, and hopefully a good one at that. Just about anything was better than Cassius. He should be celebrating right now. But...there was still something bothering him. 

It was approaching the wee hours of the morning as people slowly trickled out. Wylie had long since dropped the rainbow lights. They had been celebrating for hours, Dex was silent nearly the whole time. 

“Alright.” Fitz said through a yawn. “I’m tapping out. Night Fee. Last one standing has to clean everything up.”

Keefe nodded. When he finally left the room and they were all alone, he approached Dex. Still silent in the corner.

“Okay, what’s going on Techmaster? You seem down.”

“No it’s just...it’s hard to explain.”

“Take your time, if you’d like.” Keefe sat down criss cross in front of him.

His lips went pouty in a way that made Keefe realize he was staring at his lips.

“You’ll think I’m weird. And clingy. And jealous. Honestly I shouldn’t even be saying any of this right now but I make bad decisions at 3 A.M. I guess.”

“Hey, you can tell me anything.” Keefe started to reach his hand out to Dex before remembering he shouldn’t read his emotions. Dex grabbed it before he could pull away. A lot of sadness and hurt there. He quickly stopped reading, though their hands stayed locked. 

“It’s just...there’s this person. This guy. And...and I thought maybe he liked me but now I think he has a boyfriend. I’m not sure though.”

Keefe’s heart dropped. “Well...boyfriend status can be changed.”

Dex chuckled. “I don’t know, they have nicknames for each other and everything.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Looks serious.”

It was silent for a moment, then Dex spoke.

“Look...don’t worry about it, alright? It’s really no big deal. I’ll get over it, I guess.”

“Maybe he likes you back.”

“I highly doubt it. I’m...I’m not good enough for him. I’m just a servant. He deserves someone better.”

“Why does being a servant mean you’re bad? I’ve met some nobles that are real assholes. You’re way better than all of those fuckers.”

Dex laughed again, wow Keefe could listen to that forever. 

Dex sighed. “You know what? Screw it.”

He seemed to steel himself before saying his next sentence. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. 

“Are you dating Fitz?”

“What?” Keefe laughed awkwardly. “No, no, no. He’s just a friend.”

“Oh. Then...who were you talking about at the gardens? I- I thought it was Fitz and you guys got together and-”

“No, goodness no. Fitz is great and all but...well he’s just not my type. And he’s been dating Tam for a while now.”

“Oh I uh...I didn’t notice.” Dex’s face flushed furiously. “Who were you talking about then?”

Keefe met his eyes. “Depends, who were you talking about?”

He didn’t answer but his silence spoke more than any words could.

Keefe scooted closer and cupped Dex’s face in his hand. He looked into the boys periwinkle eyes.

“Dex, can I kiss you?”

“Please?”

And they did.

When Keefe heard descriptions of kissing the same gender, they always said that it felt wrong somehow. But this...this only felt right. Like he had been waiting his whole life for the moment when he met the gardener boy’s cracked lips. They weren’t soft, and the kiss was a bit awkward, but it just felt...correct. Keefe chased the kiss slightly when they finally had to pull away. 

A shy smile spread across Dex’s face.

Keefe leaned back in.

~*~

Keefe walked out onto the newly-built stage in front of the castle and looked upon his people. His ceremonial robe was itchy and too large for him.

Cassius was no where to be seen. He had just...run away. The day of the wedding was the day he broke. The kingdom had been sovereignless for the last month, coronations couldn't be rushed. 

Typically the previous king would place the crown upon the head of the new ruler. Because Cassius seemed to run away in the night with nothing more than a clump of riches, Keefe got to choose who would crown him. 

“Friends and subjects of the Kingdom of Eternalia,” Oralie started. “Today, we crown a new ruler. A ruler to put the people first. A ruler who will not sleep until every one of his people is fed. A ruler to unite us.”

Keefe never realized how long winded Oralie was. Looking into the crowd, he spotted Sophie. She wore a sour expression.

Sophie never was a fan of Oralie, she wouldn’t tell him why. 

“Prince Keefe has shown a care for his people deeper than any king before him.”

She could say that again. Keefe found Dex in the crowd, absolutely beaming.

“In the time I have had the honor of teaching him in my lessons, he has shown a willingness to learn. An ability to adapt. And a knowledge of the system as well as its successes and failures deeper than anyone else his age.

And yes, it is truly a shame that a king must be crowned this young, but I have no doubt that in time he will do right by our great kingdom.”

Oralie walked over to him, her pink flowy dress trailing behind her. She picked up the ceremonial crown off the pillow that a servant was holding.

“Prince Keefe of Eternalia, do you promise to uphold the law and do what is right for your people to the best of you abilities?”

“I do.”

“And do you promise to preserve the honor of our nation?”

“I do.”

A loud voice came from the crowd.

“AND DO YOU PROMISE TO NOT LET CASSI-ASS BACK INTO THE THRONE ROOM?” Keefe could tell it was Marella, but no one else had to know that.

He cracked a smile. “I do.”

Oralie chuckled too.

“In that case, Keefe Sencen of Eternalia, with this crown I deem you King of Eternalia. May you have a long and peaceful reign.”

The heavy crown was placed upon his head. The crowd cheered and chanted, his friends yelled the loudest. Keefe saw as Fitz lifted Biana on his shoulders, they all hugged and screamed excitedly. 

Who he noticed most of all was Dex. His bright smile in that moment was worth everything he’d been through. 

Maybe he had found someone he didn’t mind being with.

~*~

Like most days, it was a somewhat quiet day at the castle. 

Keefe looked up from his painting to study the gardens, once called the Queen’s Gardens, but that was ages ago. The wall that once surrounded the beautiful landscape was knocked down a very long time ago. 

Keefe smiled as he spotted Dex tending to some ivy that had grown on one of the ancient statues. Even being a king couldn’t keep his husband from assisting the gardeners. 

Tomorrow, some old friends were visiting. That in itself wasn’t particularly special, as they visited at least twice a year (usually more), but tomorrow was special because it was the anniversary of the Great Wedding Destruction as historians had come to call it. 

How many years had it been? 300? 400? One tends to forget. 

After 50 years or so, they admitted to planning the whole event. By then, Keefe had already convened with the councillors to pass same gender marriage and gotten married to Dex. The law couldn’t exactly do much, it had been a while and no one was injured so any fear of being charged with treason was history.

A few minutes later, Dex trudged into Keefe’s art studio. 

“Hey lovey, do you know where I put the high-power garden clippers?”

“I hope in your lab, but you might want to check the kitchens.”

“Why would they be in the kitchens?”

“Heard some buzzing coming from there and last time I saw the nieces they had frosting all over their faces.”

Chaos ran in the Dizznee family. 

Dex sighed as they heard a loud bang followed by an “Oops.” from downstairs. 

“Gosh if Rex doesn’t pick up his children soon...I won’t do anything but I’ll be sour about it.”

Keefe chuckled. “You might want to go check on them, wouldn’t want them to break your invention. If they haven’t already.”

Dex hummed noncommittally. “Whatcha drawing?”  

“Just a boring landscape...that happens to include a dragon.”

Dex leaned over the easel. “It’s a very pretty boring landscape that happens to include a dragon.”

“Thank you very much, dearest.” Keefe leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “Now you may want to actually check on the girls. I don’t think Elwin can heal severed fingers.”

“Yeah, okay.”

As he walked from the room that used to be Cassius’ office he yelled, “Emily! Leah! Please don’t be killing each other-”

Keefe just smiled. He did that a lot nowadays. 

He hoped these days would last forever.