#i am not awake enough to formulate ideas

[oatmealdaydreams]

Pairing Name for Hades/Homer?

Okay, so I've seen people ask what we should call the Hades/Homer pairing. This pairing amuses me greatly. I have an idea for them, so here's that!

Pairing Name Ideas

Wager Duo

It's very short. I apologize for that.

Anyway: feel free to add your own! All I can think of is when they did that wager thing. So yeah.

Hopefully, we can find a good name for these two :D

[cl3fairyyy]

hide and seek || edward nashton / the riddler x fem reader (nsfw !) ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

summary || your sex life recently with edward has been non existent. with him being so focused on his plans for gotham, you have found your needs being neglected. you decide to take initiative and plan a fun game for edward while he's at work.

warnings || SMUT!! there is plot but this is pretty much straight up porn lol. reader and edward role-play a kidnapping scenario but everything is consensual!! slapping, restraints, degradation, light knife play, overstimulation, p in v, pussy eating, choking, hunting(?kind of?), (fake) threats of violence, mentions of stalking, the suit stays ON during sex, some weird purity/ corruption stuff in this idk i think a demon possessed me halfway through writing this. minors please do not interact!!

word count || 4k i did not mean for it to be this long oopsie!!

notes || i haven't written smut in a LONG time so i am so sorry if this is straight up garbage pls go easy on me. recently reread year one and im seriously going insane the hyperfixation is so back guys. i love writing edward so much especially when it comes to writing some nasty porn about him LOL. i srsly had no idea how to end this so its kinda bad sorry D:

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★

In recent months, you have found yourself growing increasingly frustrated. For the longest time, you haven’t had the faintest idea of what has been causing this, and that has caused it to manifest itself in various ways throughout your everyday life. You have found yourself much more easily annoyed by the most minor inconveniences, and have had repeated warnings at work to stop arguing with customers over the pettiest of matters. 

One afternoon in late November, whilst attempting to share in your boyfriend���s body heat on the sofa of your freezing living room, watching the news and listening to him ramble about finally ‘revealing the truth,’ it hits you. 

Edward hasn’t fucked you in months. 

Even before this change, you didn’t have the most active sex life- you were both too busy holding down your day jobs whilst simultaneously investigating the corruption poorly concealed beneath Gotham’s cobbled streets. Still, you’d find the time every other week or so to take care of each other. 

You love having sex with Edward; he’s so gentle with you, handling you like a precious gem that will shatter if dropped. He always makes sure your needs are met before he even thinks of himself, worshipping your body with an obsession akin to a deeply faithful Catholic’s love for Christ himself.  

But sometimes... it can get boring. Not as boring as not having sex at all, but boring enough that you often find yourself lying awake at night, longing for Edward to keep up his Riddler persona for just a little while longer after he arrives home from doing whatever he does to have the coppery scent of blood soaking into the walls of your small apartment. 

You know your frustration will only worsen the longer you go without having sex, so you decide to do a small experiment. 

You take the next few days off work, pretending to be sick, and Edward, usually ever attentive to your every need, your Edward, who begins panicking if you all but sniffle the wrong way, barely notices. With your theory proven that his work has been turning him into someone who is evidently not your sweet Edward, you begin doing everything you can for even an ounce of attention from him. You give him shoulder massages after he returns home from a long day at work, cook him his favourite meals, run baths for him, at some point it evolves into you all but throwing yourself at him, and you have to take a step back to reevaluate your approach. Being that desperate for sex is not a good look, especially when your boyfriend is completely oblivious to how horny you are.  

You decide you need to formulate a plan to force him to focus on you. 

It starts with the lingerie. You scour the shopping apps on your phone for an embarrassingly long time, trying to find something perfect. You eventually come across a pretty lilac set, its sheer mesh bra framed with soft ruffles and feminine frills to accentuate your chest, and immediately order it, even begrudgingly spending a little extra for next day delivery. 

The next step of your plan is to come up with a simple puzzle, something stimulating but still to the point- you're so horny that you know the next time you’re in a room with Edward while he still has that Riddler costume on, it’s going to take some real self-restraint to stop yourself from ripping it off him.  

The final step of your plan is waiting for the perfect moment to put everything into action. You realise it isn’t the most complicated or glamorous scheme to ever exist, but if it manages to work and allows you to finally get some action, you won’t be complaining.  

One evening, when it’s well past 5pm, and definitely well past the time Edward should have been home from the office, you get a text from your beloved. 

hi honey, moved tuesday’s plans forward to today. got an opening with savage and cant miss it. will be home late- ill pick up food on my way back. love you. 

we’re finally making some REAL change : ) 

You almost leap out of your chair with excitement, rushing around the apartment to make sure everything is in place for your little game of hide and seek. 

When Edward finally returns home, the apartment is dark- it’s well past 11pm, so he figures you’re in bed. He sighs, setting down the takeaway bag on the coffee table and calling out your name, pausing when you don’t answer. You always wait up for him when he’s running his late-night ‘errands.’ When he thinks about it more, he realises you didn’t even text him back earlier this evening; you’ve been sick, too- what if you collapsed, or had complications, or worse?  

Before he can begin panicking, he finally notices the lit candle on the kitchen counter. Next to it is a piece of paper, which Edward gingerly picks up with shaking hands, reading the five words scrawled across it. 

‘Dear Riddler, 

Come find me.’ 

Confusion clouds Edward’s mind for a moment before he realises that he’s reading your handwriting, and the sweet flowery scent giving him a headache is his favourite perfume of yours. He stands still for a moment, rereading the note as the familiar feeling of want begins to curl in his lower belly. You’ve never actually addressed him as the Riddler before. 

He definitely likes it. 

You crouch uncomfortably in your hiding space beneath the dining table, straining your ears against the silence of the apartment as you try to gauge how Edward has taken your little game based off his breathing. You hear the rustling of fabric and the sound of something zipping up, and realise he must’ve slipped his jacket and mask back on because his breaths are definitely muffled now.  

He begins taking slow, deliberate steps around the apartment, his combat boots loudly thudding on the wooden floorboards as he does so. You suddenly feel very vulnerable in only your undergarments and wonder if this is how his victims must feel, a thrill tingling deliciously up your spine. 

You shift a little in your spot, trying to find a way to crouch comfortably while also remaining out of sight. Your heart pounds so hard in anticipation of being spotted that you’re sure Edward can hear it, especially when his footsteps begin to head towards your hiding spot.  

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the sound of your breathing to an absolute minimum; the silence in your apartment is deafening and, for the first time in all the years you have known him, you begin to feel almost weary of Edward’s presence. In this moment, you’re not just Edward’s partner. 

You’re his prey. 

So wrapped up in your own mind, you don’t hear Edward’s footsteps behind you. You feel two strong, gloved hands grab your hips and rip you out of your thoughts. You squeal giddily as Edward throws you onto the wooden dining table, biting your lip to stifle the giggles that threaten to spill out. 

Edward looms over you, his glasses glinting in the moonlight that seeps into the apartment through the cracks in the blinds. He is completely silent, save for the heavy breaths muffled by his mask. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and raspy, and the sound of it sends tiny shivers of excitement up your arms. 

“I’ve been watching you for so long. Every move you make, I’ve followed from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to snatch you up. Do you know how hard it’s been? Hearing your pathetic whimpers while you fuck yourself every night, and having to wait until it’s me making you unravel? But now I have you here, all to myself, and no one is around to save you.” 

The sight of him like this, so indescribably large compared to you, looking down on you like a lion that has captured its prey and is about to rip it to shreds- it sends sparks of arousal through you that pool in your sheer underwear. You look up at Edward through your eyelashes, smiling innocently. 

“Looks like you caught me.” 

With that, he drags you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads towards your bedroom. Your face burns, unsure of when or how he got so strong, and the anticipation of what he is about to do to you sends tingles of delight down your spine. 

Edward throws you carelessly onto the bed before straddling you. He wordlessly grasps your wrists in one gloved hand, holding them above your head while he rips off a piece of duct tape from the roll that dangles from his belt, and binds them together securely. He subtly tilts his head to the side, and you can read him so well at this point that you know he’s asking if your restraints are too tight. You shake your head, and he immediately melts back into character, sweeping his gaze down your exposed body predatorily.  

His gloved hands reach forward, roughly groping your breasts, pinching and rolling your clothed nipples between his fingers. You squeak, writhing beneath him, deciding to put on a bit of a show with it. 

“P... please, don’t...” you whimper pathetically, bucking your hips into his. You hear him groan under his breath above you, removing one hand from your chest to grip your chin harshly, squishing your cheeks together. “Shut up.” His voice is low and dangerous when he speaks, a complete contrast to the sweet voice Edward usually addresses you with. “You’re trapped here, and no one is coming for you. You can scream as loud as you want, it won’t make a difference.” 

“You’re so pitiful, dressed up like one of those whores on the street just to get my attention.” He breathes out slowly, slipping a gloved finger beneath your bra to massage your nipple. “I can’t say it hasn’t worked, but a whore is still a whore. You need to be cleansed, like the rest of the filth in this city, and the only person willing to do that is me. That’s why,” he pauses, the hand gripping your chin roughly yanking your mouth open as he leans over you, pulling up his mask slightly and spitting in your mouth, “you will take everything I give to you like a grateful little bitch.” 

He slaps your face, hard enough to sting but not enough to bruise, and you swallow the mixture of your saliva and his. You can’t stop the moan that slips out from between your parted lips, and he locks eyes with you, his pupils blown so wide with arousal that his eyes appear completely black in the low light. He leans forward again, pulling up his mask, and harshly kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his knee forces your legs apart. You whimper when you feel his erection brush against your thigh and he bites down on your bottom lip, hard. He moves his focus to your neck and collarbones, attacking the sensitive skin with kisses and bites, marking every inch of you that’s visible. 

“This is so,” he murmurs breathlessly between fervent kisses to your skin- and, Christ, is he smelling you?- “everyone knows you were fucked by the Riddler. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For everyone to know that you’re such a whore that getting fucked by a serial killer gets that pathetic cunt of yours completely soaked.” You moan at his words, arching your back to press your chest against his as you grind against his knee. 

“Such a needy little thing. One touch from me and you’re already at my complete disposal.” He leans back on his heels to look over you, your hair a complete mess, your lips swollen and as red as the flush on your skin. The strap of your bra has slipped down your shoulder and Edward’s breaths become haggard as he reaches for the knife on his belt; he cuts away the fabric hiding your breasts from him, much to your dismay (that lingerie set was pretty fucking expensive), and immediately takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before biting down lightly. You moan louder, squirming against your restraints and trying to pull away from him. 

He slaps you again, harder this time, running the flat side of his knife against the mark that begins blooming on your cheek. “If you don’t shut up and take it like a good girl, I'll have to hurt you.” He presses a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to ruin a face as pretty as yours.” 

You whimper, rubbing your clothed core against Edward’s thigh, feeling the arousal in your lower belly build from the stimulation. Edward certainly doesn’t miss this, his eyes widening slightly as he peels your underwear away from your pussy. A string of your own slick connects you to the mesh fabric, and you can hear the amusement in Edward’s voice when he says, “oh, I’m going to ruin you.” 

He cuts your underwear away, dragging his knife down your body painfully slowly. You shiver from the cool metal, whining from frustration when Edward’s gloved fingers spread your glistening folds, pointedly ignoring your throbbing clit. 

“You pathetic girl... so wet for me. No one else could get you to react like this from their words alone, could they?” You shake your head rapidly, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get closer to Edward’s fingers. “Say it, then.” He begins lazily rubbing circles into your clit, causing you to cry out with relief at him finally touching you. He runs the blunt end of his knife across your neck, twisting it in his hand so the tip presses into your skin, not quite breaching your flesh. “Nice and clear for me. Tell me that you’re my bitch.” 

You moan when he begins speeding up his movements on your clit, stumbling over your words. “I.. I’m your- your b-” He cuts you off with another slap to your cheek, and the action sends a sharp jolt of pleasure right to your clit, causing you to choke out a moan. “Not quite, pretty girl. Try again. Whose bitch are you?” Your eyes narrow with confusion for a second before you realise what he wants you to say. 

“I’m th- the Riddler’s bitch.” 

He nods, satisfied, pushing two gloved fingers inside of you while the other continues rubbing your clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast, whimpering and giving Edward a pleading look. 

He nods wordlessly and you unravel, your orgasm enveloping your body in a blissful warmth as your pussy clenches hard around Edward’s fingers. He breathes out through his nose, hard, as he watches you cum, his cock throbbing at the feeling of your pussy spasming around his fingers.  

Edward pulls his fingers out of you when your body finally finishes shaking, inspecting your wetness on them in the low light of your bedroom for several moments, before pushing them under his mask and sucking them clean. He moans at the taste of you, and you feel his dick twitching against your leg as he closes his eyes, savouring you. He sighs, opening his eyes. 

“I need more.” 

Before you can react, he’s gripping your waist with strong hands, dragging your body up against him, holding you up almost completely off the bed, and hooking your legs over his shoulders. Edward gazes at your drenched cunt with a hunger in your eyes that you've never seen displayed by him, his breaths deep and shaky as he smells the arousal leaking out of you. You squeak, thighs still quivering from your previous orgasm. 

“W-wait, Ed- Riddler, I... I’m still t-too sensitive for...” You cut yourself out with a cry of pained pleasure as he latches his mouth onto your pussy, pushing his tongue into your sensitive hole. You sob as he sucks on your clit, shocks of overstimulation wracking through you as you weakly kick your legs against him, your body growing limp. The sounds Edward makes as he devours your pussy are obscene, the room filling with echoes of your cries and Edward’s moans as he sucks and licks crudely at your sex. 

He pulls away occasionally, praising and degrading you in barely coherent pussydrunk babbles: “such a perfect girl for me,” “stupid bitch, such a needy whore for your savior,” “so pretty with mascara running down your face,” “any louder and I'll give you a real reason to cry,” “taste so good, i need all of you.” And it’s all so much, his tongue writhing so deep inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass, the cool leather biting into your flesh, the way he moans and ruts into the bed from the taste of you, and before you can even breathe you’re cumming again, and you’re cumming so hard your back lifts off the bed entirely, the strength of your orgasm rocking you all the way to your core. Your mind goes blank as a chain of choked moans and sobs spill from between your lips, all you can focus on being the way Edward continues to fuck you with his tongue all the way through your orgasm. You can feel your slick sliding down your thighs, and when Edward pulls away you can see it dripping down his chin, and you don’t miss the proud grin on his face as he pulls down his mask. 

He drops you back onto the bed, straddling you once more and wiping your slick from his chin with his finger, motioning for you to open your mouth. You obey him and he pushes the digit inside, motioning for you to suck it clean. When he pulls his finger from your mouth, his eyes darken, and you can practically feel the smug smile in his words. “Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you? No one can make you cum like I can... and I can still smell how horny you are for me. You’re so needy, yet you’re never satisfied.” 

He tilts his head, and the dim light from the lamp behind him illuminates him similarly to a halo, and you almost find yourself beginning to create a religion in your head just to worship him. 

“I don’t think you’re being very grateful.” 

You begin crying out words of thanks, rubbing your legs together to lessen the ache of overstimulation. Edward's knees cage you in, and he grips one of your thighs with his hands. 

“Quit your grovelling and stop fucking moving when I’m talking to you.” His hand travels to your face, cupping your cheek with a surprising tenderness as he sighs. “You’re still so filthy... look what this city has done to you. I suppose I’m your last hope.” 

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, finally freeing his cock from its confines. The tip is an angry red and leaks with precum, and Edward lets out a breathy moan as he strokes it. He spreads your legs, lining himself up with your sex and pushing into you slowly. He gazes down at you, a complete mess beneath him, and groans. “You’re so lucky... being fucked by Gotham’s salvation...” 

You can barely think, let alone speak, and when Edward begins moving his hips, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it, you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks. He moves in and out of your agonisingly slowly, and when you look up at him, you can make out that his eyes are closed as he savours the feeling of you. 

“Your virgin pussy is so... so fucking tight. Oh... h-how does it feel to be fucked by your saviour? Your God?” 

You sniffle beneath him, choking on your sobs as he speeds up to a punishing pace, his cock bruising your insides. He grabs at every inch of you, his hands finding refuge around your throat. 

“Oh, you’re so good. You were so filthy, but I will cleanse you. I will purify you; I will plant the seed of hope within you, and you will be saved.” 

He babbles on as he fucks you, squeezing his fingers around your throat, verging on crushing your windpipe but never quite gripping hard enough. You cry out for him, so cockdrunk and lightheaded from your sudden lack of oxygen that you find yourself looping your bound wrists around his neck, pulling him forward and crashing your lips to the rough leather of his mask. He makes a noise of surprise before his fingers once again find your clit, rubbing at it desperately as his hips begin to stutter against your own. 

Edward, ever the gentlemen, wants you to cum before him; you feel your cheeks grow warm at the thought, and pull away to look at him. You can barely keep your focus on him, your vision going hazy, and he begins assaulting your clit with more fervor. 

“Be a good little angel and cum for your savior.” 

Your vision goes white as the orgasm rips through you, your entire body spasming as your pussy clenches down hard on Edward’s cock. He has to stop moving to prevent himself from cumming as he guides you through your own orgasm, his fingers weaving through your hair as he coos at you. 

“Yes, that’s it. Such a perfect girl. So pretty cumming on my cock.” 

He begins speeding up again, his hips slapping against yours with a clumsy rhythm, his breathy moans growing louder and more desperate with each thrust. You lay, exhausted, whimpering incoherent words of encouragement to him as he chases after his own climax. 

You feel him begin to pull out and you weakly wrap your legs around his hips. “W-want you inside. Need... need you to cleanse me from the inside.” 

Your words are what tip Edward over the edge, and he whimpers loudly as his cum spills inside you, his hips grinding into yours as he relishes in the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

Thank God you're on birth control.

Edward slowly pulls out of you and cuts the duct tape that binds you, gently pressing kisses to the insides of your wrists. He pulls off his fogged up glasses and his mask, placing a gentle kiss to your lips as he smiles at you worriedly. 

“I didn’t go too far, did I?” 

There's your lovely Eddie.

You shake your head, laughing weakly and he smiles, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he helps you to your feet and guides you to the bathroom, letting you use his body for support. Edward sits you on the lip of the bath and dampens a towel, gentle cleaning you up and placing loving kisses to every bare patch of skin he can reach. He reluctantly leaves you alone to freshen up as he straightens up the bed, changing into his pajamas and finding your favourite t shirt of his to sleep in. 

When you re-enter the bedroom, with a slight limp that Edward definitely notices but refuses to comment on, he dresses you and tucks you into bed before lying next to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes. 

“Sorry I’ve been so... distant lately.” 

When you go to answer him, he rubs his thumb soothingly on your cheek and you get the message that he hasn’t finished talking. 

“We have big things planned, we both know that, but... it wasn’t right of me to not look after you when, now that I look back at it, you really made it obvious that you needed me to. I hope you can forgive me.” 

You smile, pressing a shy kiss to Edward’s lips. 

“Don’t apologise, Eddie. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can apologise tomorrow when I can’t feel my legs or sit down properly for a week.” 

He laughs and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.  

“I really love you, you silly girl. A-and..."

He pulls away from you but continues to avert his gaze, his cheeks pink and a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

"The, um, th-the lingerie was very pretty, you looked really lovely. I'm, ah, sorry about..."

He doesn't meet your eyes and you snort, bringing a hand to rest on his cheek with a fond smile.

"Yeah. That I'm not so quick to forgive. You have no idea how expensive nice underwear is when you're a woman."

Edward laughs shyly, delicately holding your wrist and pressing tender kisses to your palm that leave you melting. The heat in his eyes, however, is undeniable.

"I absolutely will not complain if you decide to spend all my money on pretty lingerie and then decide to model said lingerie for me."

"You're unbelievable."

You both laugh as Edward continues peppering soft kisses up your arm, then your bruising neck before finally meeting your lips in a tender kiss. He pulls away, and the way he looks at you with such love and adoration almost makes you tear up.

Edward twirls a strand of hair around his finger, pulling you closer to his chest. His fingers reach up and he begins combing them through your hair properly, whispering sweet praise to you as you find yourself dozing off.

[nicksbestie]

could you pleeeaaaaase do a agere!reader x johnnie? any prompt!!1 💗

awww yes!!! i loved this req ty so much <3 i hope you love it!

Bug

word count :

warnings : vomit, descriptions of being sick

pairing : johnnie guilbert/reader (romantic)

<3

There is nothing worse than being sick, especially when you have no idea what’s causing the pain. Johnnie hated being sick, and he hated it when others were sick, both feeling bad for them and also not wanting to catch anything from them. He wore masks 24/7 and avoided contact as much as possible, having a slight fear of illness. But when his little one was sick, that was an entirely different story. He would drop everything to take care of you, no worries in his mind at all about catching it. He saw no issue pressing kisses to your forehead, hugging you, helping you change, making you food, sleeping in the same bed with you, anything at all. 

And that was just in his nature as a caregiver. When you were sick, suddenly, him getting it seemed preferable. Because a sick little is always miserable, and while Johnnie didn’t mind, he knew that you didn’t enjoy a single moment of it. And that let you both to tonight, 2:53 AM, and Johnnie was gently rubbing your back and holding your hair out of the way as you threw up. 

“Daddy? Daddy! Wakes, pease! No feew good!”

Johnnie had been sleeping comfortably, arms wrapped around you, when your stomach started tossing and turning. You’d whimpered a bit, adjusted closer to him and tried to ignore it, but it continued to get worse, and now you were shaking his shoulder, desperately trying to get him to wake up. You were starting to cry, not wanting to scream at him, because yelling at Daddy isn’t allowed, (he would’ve made an exception, but you didn’t know that.), but him not being awake was causing you to panic and cry harder. Eventually, Johnnie sleepily opened his eyes, slowly coming to the realization of what you were saying and what was wrong.

“Aww, angel, what’s wrong, sweetie?” 

You sniffled back a few tears, holding your stuffie so tight to your side as you tried to formulate a reply. 

“No know, tummy no feew good, jus-” 

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before the nausea that had been slowly building caused your stomach to lurch and within a few moments Johnnie’s side, your shirt, and the sheets were covered in vomit. Neither of you had a chance to react before it happened, and this of course just made you cry so much harder, being so upset that you’d made a mess all over Daddy. You didn’t even get time to sob out an apology before Johnnie spoke. 

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m sorry you don’t feel good, little one. Alright, angel, Daddy will go get the bath started, we’ll get you all clean, and I’ll change my clothes and the sheets.” 

Unable to form words through the tears, Johnnie stripped off his shirt, (that was luckily the only piece of his clothing affected), and moved to the bathroom, reminding you not to move. He warmed it up, knowing you were feeling awful and didn’t want to be cold on top of it. Gently resting his hand on your forehead when he got back, he was happy to see you didn’t have a fever. It was probably something small, just a stomach bug, or you ate something bad without realizing. He picked you up, not even caring about the throw up touching him, and carried you to the bathroom. He didn’t stop whispering to you, comforting words, hoping it would help ease your mind, at least a little bit. He gently set you on the edge of the tub, knowing there was enough room for you to not slip and fall, even without him holding you up. 

“Arms up, my love.” 

You were that little that refused to wear pants. You’d be cold, so you’d take a million blankets, but no pants. So Johnnie only had to help you get your sleep shirt off, laying it out on the counter, half in the sink to take to the laundry with the sheets. He softly pulled it off of your body, making sure none of the vomit transferred from the shirt to your skin. He then ran a soft, sensory approved, washcloth under some cool water and gently wiped off your face, soothing some of your pain, and then cleaning the residue off of your chin and around your mouth, leaving a small kiss on your forehead before helping you into the tub. 

He knew you were exhausted, and he could tell just how sick you felt because even with some impromptu bubbles and toys in the bath to raise your spirits, you didn’t touch anything and just sat there, leaning against the cool tub frame, trying to breathe and slow down your crying. Johnnie didn’t make you do anything, he just washed you off with the water, easily lifting you out once you were done, and wrapping you in a soft fluffy towel. He gently ran his hands up and down your sides, adjusting when he needed to dry off the rest of you. He didn’t let you get cold, dressing you quickly as soon as you were dry, hugging you afterwards and picking you up. 

Johnnie had thrown the sheets, and both of your shirts into the washing machine as soon as you had gotten out of the bath, and he handed you a blanket to wrap yourself in while he remade the bed with fresh sheets, making sure there were multiple stuffed animals near the pillows for you. 

But as soon as you two had gotten back in bed, you’d immediately felt nauseous again. Except, this one lasted longer than the first time, feeling nauseous but not throwing up for twenty minutes. Johnnie felt so bad for you, and you were crying again, sweating from the exertion against your body, and he was gently holding ice packs against your forehead and face. 

He held your hair back every time you went to throw up again, changing out the trash bag without a blink of an eye and replacing it quickly so you didn’t throw up on anything else. He spent almost all night helping you, and he didn’t yawn or get annoyed once. He knew you needed Daddy’s comfort, and he was there for you the entire time. He gave you some medicine every now and then, but you just kept throwing it back up until the final time. It was around 6:30 AM, and you took your third dose, and Johnnie crossed his fingers that it would stay down. And it did. 

There was no more throwing up, and you fell asleep curled in his arms shortly after. He was so happy when you finally fell asleep, and he soon passed out after you, keeping his arms protectively wrapped around you. Your sleep and eating schedule for the next day was an absolute mess, but he was so happy that you weren’t sick anymore that he didn’t care. 

He gently reassured you when you cried before each meal, terrified of eating something bad and getting sick again, and he did the same when you would drink anything. He had checked the expiration dates for everything after you’d gotten sick, throwing out anything that was even close to its end date. He’d replaced them with fresh items, reassuring you every time that you were going to be just fine. Luckily, sleeping wasn’t a struggle to get back on track, because your body was so exhausted that you would fall asleep almost anywhere for the next day, and you would stick close to Daddy when you did so. Being sick with a stomach bug was a horrible experience, but having Daddy there to help had made it a lot easier.

[fyodoro]

->𝐔𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬

Part one here

After what should have been your end, you find yourself awake weeks later in a hospital bed. When all you want is to try again, you’re siblings arrive and…

Cw - attempted suicide,suicidal thoughts, strained sibling relationships, ooc tsukasa and saki (probably…) for the sake of angst, comas , self sabotage, reader is kinda two faced..

Genre - angst.

Platonic! Tsukasa&Saki x reader

A/n : giggled a bit writing this

Everything felt cold, freezing cold. It was as if someone pushed you into a icy lake during wintertime. You wanted to warm up, but it was impossible to move due to the severe injuries scarring you from the train station incident hours ago.

Was it hours? Or days… perhaps even weeks? You weren’t sure how much time passed, but knew it was a lot.

This was the most awake you’ve felt in your mind so far, perhaps today will be the day you wake up. Though, apart of you wishes it’s your last day alive. You didn’t know if you wanted to beat whoever saved you or thank them.

You didn’t know anything, not even what you wanted.

Did Tsukasa and Saki worry? Did they cry when they heard the news? Do they even know where you went and how it ended? These questions swarmed your mind more and more. You hated it. You didn’t want to think about your siblings right now, they’re partially to blame for all this after all.

There was one thing you knew, that was a lie. They aren’t to blame for this… all they wanted was to be by your side, and you pushed them away. You didn’t deserve siblings like them, they deserved a better sibling, one that wasn’t you. Since when were you so determined to feel like they were the worst siblings ever?

Sure, maybe what Tsukasa said to you was a bit mean, but he was also struggling. If you didn’t hold a grudge, then maybe he wouldn’t have either.

Of course, that’s just a maybe.

Saki was fresh out the hospital, excited to be a normal teenage girl. All you did was make her feel unheard when she expressed this. She had every reason to wanna stay away from you. Maybe if you tried a bit harder to express your emotions, she wouldn’t have backed away.

But that’s just another maybe.

“Miss… wake up?… I hope so…”

“It’s been… are you sure?… okay…”

You heard conversations around you, but could never make them out. You could only hear the words, not process them. If you could think right, it’d be irritating.

“Ah, I think they’re waking up! Someone get a nurse!”

Footsteps became louder and more frequent. Slowly, you were opening your eyes. The bright cold hospital light giving you an immediate headache as well as an rude awakening. You were in the hospital this whole time.

“Don’t crowd them- waking up from a coma can be very confusing and overwhelming. Give them a bit of space for a while.” Said someone who you could only assume was some kind of nurse.

Your eyes were open, but everyone was blurry. You were sure you looked like an idiot right now, looking around the room confusingly and squinting your eyes trying to make out faces. You knew what happened, but you didn’t have the heart to say anything about it. Despite your lack of vision, the atmosphere was enough to give you an idea of everyone’s facial expressions.

It was thick and tense, no one wanted to overwhelm you just yet, so they didn’t know what to say exactly. You weren’t sure if you should be the one to break the silence this time around…

“(Name)- I’m so glad you’re okay..!” Saki. Her chipperness sounded so… forced. You hated it.

“So am I, we were all so worried, you know?”

You weren’t sure if you wanted to punch your brother square in the nose or not. Tsukasa barley notices you walking in and out the house most days, how could he ever be worried about you?

You dwelled in silence for another moment, trying to formulate the right words for this… situation. It’s not one you expected to be in just a week or more ago.

“I don’t understand why you’re both here. You shouldn’t have even realized I didn’t come home, so why should you notice me when I’m in a whole fucking coma?”

Saki winced a bit at your harsh language, though she wasn’t surprised. This reaction was expected after all. Tsukasa on the other hand…

“We may have our differences, but deep down… we’re still siblings. All of us. And I’m sorry- for everything (Name).”

He’s sorry? He’s sorry?

“Bullshit- bullshit bullshit it’s all fucking bullshit! If I wasn’t in this damned hospital bed right now- you wouldn’t even glance at me. You don’t give a shit about me until I almost fucking died.”

Tsukasa backed away a bit, moving an arm in front of Saki out of protection due to your sudden aggression. Of course, he doesn’t know you, so he thinks your about to get physical. That seems about right.

You were slightly irritated no nurse noticed the sudden outburst, but also thankful. If they pulled the two out now, you wouldn’t get a chance to say what you’ve always wanted to say.

“I don’t know you. Either of you. We’re related by blood, but that’s as far as it goes. I’ve spent my whole life being outcasted in this family- do you have any idea how that feels? And no one, no one, has ever bothered to repair our bonds. So why bother now?”

They couldn’t deny it, you were outcasted. But it wasn’t intentional on their behalf, they just never knew how to explain it. They thought you’d feel better alone then surrounded by people who are nothing like you. But clearly…

“(Name)… we’re so sorry- if we knew before then we would have done something… but it’s never too late is it? I know what it’s like to be alone, I spent so much time in the hospital alone. I can start now by keeping you company, can’t I?” You wanted to scoff, this is not the place to fix years of damage.

“Just get out. Both of you leave, and don’t come back.”

“But-“

“Go.”

Tsukasa and Saki were clearly reluctant, but they knew they couldn’t change their minds. Slowly, they walked out the room, leaving you alone once again.

You wish things turned out differently. But you can’t have them around anymore after everything that’s happened. It’ll probably only hurt them more finding out how terrible you’ve gotten due to their emotional absence in your life.

But still, there was nothing you wanted more in that moment then to call out to them, just to beg them to come back.

[curatoroffiction]

hey curator!

I was wondering how you keep things organized in large stories (such as Deja Vu). I am having TWST au ideas, and I'm getting a little overwhelmed trying to figure out how everything would tie together and how to keep it organized.

seeing how well fleshed out Deja Vu is inspired me a bit to try my hand at writing. even if I never share it, I'd like to make an attempt.

Ah! That sounds really exciting! To all my followers looking for some TWST content, definitely keep an eye out on this person's stuff. As for organization, I have a few systems in place. First, to organize information, I have an entire document labeled "Stuff you want to touch on and don't want to forget" - And it's FILLED with information that's quickly and easily accessible to me. The series didn't start off with that though, so my disorganization might actually be easier to see in earlier chapters if you look closely enough! I did try to fix my major inconsistencies when I went through and re-formatted everything though. It really helps with organizing my thoughts and details so I don't have to re-read old chapters, which is what I was doing originally. It also makes sure to keep me from making major inconsistencies, because as I'm writing, I can go "Now wait a second, MC experiences time at a different rate than the demons in devildom. They wouldn't normally be awake at noon-" and I can make adjustments to the chapters I'm writing so they stay aligned with all the stuff I've already formulated. Things will still slip through the cracks with this method though, especially as your stories get bigger! I highly recommend organizing within your document, so you have areas appropriately dedicated to different segments of story details. Some good organization sections I recommend: - World Lore (Important details about the world and how it works, that aren't established in cannon) - Loose Ends (Things you've left hanging that you plan to pick up later, but don't want to make your chapters too long, or you want to do this in the background.) - Key Relationship Moments (Any moments that benefit or damage the relationships between characters, so you can make sure you're writing more consistent relationship dynamics and not forgetting any weird things you left hanging, or any important segments that need to be addressed.) (I would HIGHLY recommend organizing this one by characters, so you can skip over to "Has Riddle had any weird or notable moments with anyone that would be a fun callback in this chapter?" without having to re-read every character interaction you've ever written for that series, lmfaooo) You can definitely add more or less segments to fit your writing style, but these ones have helped me a TON. Secondly, the other organization system I have in place is how I write chapters. I save them all as separate chapters instead of writing into one massive document. This helps me organize my thoughts by the chapter instead of getting lost in all the other stuff I've written. This also allows me to reframe a chapter I've written as "First draft", "Second draft", ect.. and completely re-write the chapters without getting rid of anything I've written in case I want to use it. In a similar vein, I have a master document that holds ALL of my cut content from my Deja Vu series, which allows me to edit very strictly so that the flow for each chapter is a lot better than when I started writing, and I don't lose any of those things. There's so much that gets dropped on the cutting room floor for my Deja Vu series, which can be really hard for me, so I tuck it all away so I can always come back to it later. The last two are more of an "Organization for an easily-scrambled brain" kinda advice, but I do hope that helps you on your writing journey! Thank you for reaching out!

[scarletwritesshit]

Hypnosis Mic ⛝ Code 45 ⛝ Chapter 1: From Osaka, But Not With Love

The clock at the corner of the computer screen read 2:55 AM. None of the office cubicles were occupied at this hour, except for Jyuto’s. He had stayed behind in order to track a drug trafficking case that had been bothering him for quite some time now.

His apparent idea of tracking a case was to be lead in circles for hours at a time, always ending up right where he started.

Jyuto leaned back in his chair, taking off his glasses and wiping off his eyes in an attempt to remain awake. He wanted to shut his eyes and drift off to sleep, but there was no time for him to rest. Whatever time spent sleeping would be better used tracking down who is leading this annoyingly persistent ring. Unfortunately, his brain was feeling like a scrambled egg, and no matter what reasonable conclusion he could conjure, it always raised more questions than it answered.

He hadn’t looked away from his gathered evidence in hours, and so he figured that taking a short break couldn’t be the worst thing to happen to him. He thought about shooting Samatoki a text, but there was almost no chance he would be awake at this hour. He had been awfully quiet as of late; he hasn’t pestered Jyuto in a few days to bail him out, lend him a hand, nothing of the sort. The lack of distraction was nice for Jyuto to focus, but it was almost ominous without him cussing out “those damn Yokohama pigs” every other day. Instead of bothering him, however, Jyuto kicked his legs up onto his desk and opened up the internet browser on his phone.  

On the search engine’s homepage is where he got his answer as to why Samatoki hasn’t stirred up any trouble for quite some time.

He jolted back into a proper sitting position as the first headline he saw caught his attention immediately.

SAMATOKI AOHITSUGI FOUND GUILTY OF NUMEROUS CHARGES OF MURDER; TO BE HANGED LATER THIS WEEK

He read the title over and over again. Had the sleep deprivation finally consumed his mind? He tapped on the article to confirm the source, and much to his dismay, it was an official report from the Osaka division’s station. Desperate to find answers, he frantically skimmed the article.

…ruled guilty of multiple murders across at least 2 divisions…to be hanged later this week…final ruling…

Jyuto was at a loss for what to do. Once the Japanese court had decided on the death penalty, there was absolutely no turning back. Jyuto doesn’t have nearly enough power to reverse this decision in the first place. Pulling a few strings behind the scenes to bail Samatoki out is one thing. Saving him from the death penalty while he’s being held outside of Yokohama? Forget it. Samatoki was a lost cause.

There was no point in dropping everything to head to Osaka. All he could do was read the article in a shaking panic until all traces of anxiety faded from his body and he was left with nothing but a sense of empty hopelessness. He closed his eyes as he put his phone down on the table, letting out a defeated sigh. A million questions remained, but he could not even begin to formulate a reasonable conclusion for any of them.

Could I have prevented this?

Who will lead the Mad Trigger Crew now?

How did he manage to fuck up this badly?

Has Rio caught wind of this, or anyone else, for that matter?

Other than Rio, there was only two people that Jyuto was aware of Samatoki being in close contact with. Ichiro was one of them, but he doubted he would know anything, considering the horrendously bad blood between them.

The other was Sasara Nurude, who likely had better insight into the situation.

Jyuto frantically searched through his saved contacts for his number. The two had been in infrequent contact in the past, however, Samatoki was almost never a topic of conversation. Sasara was Jyuto’s number one source of information pertaining to any scandals and scams involving the infamous M.C. Mastermind and his victims. Even then, their conversations were few and far between, as not many Yokohama citizens fell victim often as Osaka, or strangely enough, Ikebukuro residents.

Jyuto scrolled past his contact numerous times, as both the tiredness and shock had taken a toll on his mental state. When he finally spotted Sasara’s name listed, he tapped numerous times to dial his number. The phone rang, but unsurprisingly, no one picked up this late at night. Truly at a loss now, Jyuto instead sent Sasara a short text message that read:

[Call back ASAP. I have something urgent to discuss with you.]

3:12 AM. Perhaps it’s…time for me to throw in the towel for the night.

He had promised the head of the department that he would have made considerable progress by morning, but with Samatoki’s execution looming in the back of his mind, Jyuto would be lucky to even be able to comprehend the task at hand. He decided that the best course of action for now would be to message his boss, briefly explaining that he was heading out for the night and would not return that afternoon.

After arriving at his house, Jyuto didn’t even waste time getting undressed. He trudged up the stairs into his bedroom and threw himself on his bed. He laid on his back, staring at the wall and lost in the scramble that was his innermost thoughts. He was beyond tired, but his mind was so overrun by his thoughts that falling asleep felt an impossibility.

He didn’t even realize that he had finally dozed off when he opened his eyes a few hours later to find himself still staring at the ceiling. It felt like a five-minute nap, as he was still drained from the night before. His glasses, now clouded and lined with smudges, were still on his face, and one of his shoes went missing amongst the tangle of blankets. He rolled around to the other side of the bed to check the time. It appeared to be sometime after 7; his glasses were too foggy for him to clearly read anything.

Barely 3 hours of sleep. He rolled onto his back and was once again fixated on the ceiling. Jyuto was in a state of absolute misery between the inevitable death of Samatoki and his lack of sleep…

Samatoki…

He remembered the unfortunate news that he happened upon last night and shot upwards. Jyuto remembered that he had texted Sasara late into the night, before he left the station. Although it was highly unlikely that he would have responded by now, Jyuto grabbed ahold of his phone to check to see if he had gotten any response.

His eyes felt like they were burdened with the weight of a thousand pounds of sleep deprivation, yet he was forcing them to stay open with a sheer desire for answers. As he blankly stared at his half-charged phone in his hands, he was startled by a sudden buzzing and the screen lighting up.

Without fully comprehending the caller ID, Jyuto answered the phone call and was greeted by what he could tell was Sasara’s hungover mumbles.

“Mmmmph…you wanted to talk to me so badly?” Sasara mumbled out over the phone.

“Ah…yes. Yes I did,” Jyuto said, struggling to put words together. “Have you seen the news recently?”

“Uhhh? There’s a lotta shit goin’ on in the world, bunny cop,” Sasara said. “Depends on what ya mean?”

Jyuto was usually annoyed by Sasara referring to him as a “bunny cop,” but he was both too tired and too preoccupied to challenge the nickname this time.

“About…Samatoki’s execution?”

“About Samatoki’s exe-whatnow?” Sasara said, suddenly sounding more awake. “Either the alcohol hasn’t left my system yet or you’re just straight up messin’ with me.”

“It’s the top story in Osaka right now…Samatoki is being held in Osaka for execution later this week.”

“Huuuh? You’re kidding me. I’m supposed to be the comedian!”

“I’m…I’m not,” Jyuto said. He could feel himself choking up on his words at this point. Tears were beginning to build up, and he was doing his best to hold them back. It was to no avail. Now, it was finally sinking in that his division leader’s, no, his close friend’s, time was running out. Attempts to save his life would be absolutely futile.

Sasara let out a loud, disappointed sigh. “Can’t say I’m even surprised at this point. Ever since the division battle three years ago, I heard he’d been getting himself in all sorts of trouble. How he made it out alive this long beats me.”

“And…and you’re not upset about that?” Jyuto asked, surprised. Maybe it hadn’t sunken in yet what happened.

But no, Sasara remained somewhat indifferent.

“We used to be tight back in the day, yeah. But that was a while ago. Hadn’t really been on the best of terms with him for a while now, and all I can really say is that he got what was coming for him.”

“I see. Just…thought that it was something you would like to know.”

“I mean, thanks for the update man, but what was left of our friendship is sort of a thing of the past. Honestly, maybe it’s for the best that someone put his rabid spirit to rest.”

Jyuto’s grasp on his phone tightened at these very words. He thought that Sasara and Samatoki were on at least somewhat good terms with each other. For him to just brush the news of his execution off like this, what exactly had happened between those two after all of these years?

What infuriated Jyuto even further was how he was on the verge of screaming into the phone while Sasara seemed to be half conscious due to being hungover.

He couldn’t even speak now. The words wouldn’t come out.

“Blegghhh, I don’t think I can last much longer,” Sasara babbled out. “Whatever the hell Rei bought over last night did a number on mmrrhrghhh…”

Jyuto hung up the phone on him, not even bothering to say a farewell. He probably wouldn’t have acknowledged it, anyways. 

He threw his phone to the side and laid back down in bed. As much as a pain in the ass Samatoki was to constantly bail out and keep under control, he was a crucial part of Mad Trigger Crew; not just as a team leader, but as part of the strong friendship the three had managed to form.

And just like that, one of Jyuto’s only trustworthy, living allies was to be taken away from him, with absolutely no chance of redemption.

History was repeating itself; first his parents, then his mentor, and now Samatoki. It always seemed like people close to him were doomed to fall one way or another. Reality of being an officer, perhaps? Or has life simply dealt him a cruel hand in this children’s game of fate?

Telling Rio about the recent developments was the one last thing that he could do for his soon to be fallen friend. Right now, however, he wouldn’t be able to face him with such cruel news when he couldn’t even process it himself.

Plagued with the thoughts that clogged his mind, Jyuto once again drifted off into a light sleep.

[lis-likes-fics]

Hey there I was wonder if I could have Carlisle x pregnant reader and he’s really possessive and protective of her and smutty please 😊

Author's Note: First of all, I am so sorry for my tardiness. This was requested like two months ago. Here it is now, again I'm sorry. I started writing it and took the longest time to keep coming to it. Procrastination is a bitch. Thank you so much and now enjoy reading this fluffy smut! ❤️

~~~

Possessive, Protective, and Pregnant

Y/N smiled as she waved to her brother, Sam. She'd stopped by the reservation today to visit her pack before returning back to the Cullens place, a container full of Emily's amazing chocolate muffins in her bag, eager to dive in.

"Don't eat 'em all in one night! You might also wanna talk to Carlisle, don't keep it to yourself too long!" her sister-in-law called.

Y/N nodded as she rolled her eyes a little. "Alright, Emily. See you later. Bye, Sammy!" Her big brother waved at her as she drove away. She didn't really know why she was so eager to have the muffins. She didn't usually like sweets and things all too much, but she couldn't wait to eat one - so much so that she opened the container and grabbed one, eating it in her car on the way back to the house.

Stuffing the container back into her bag, she got out of the car after finishing her muffin and headed inside. She was greeted by Carlisle, who kissed her cheek happily. "How was your day with your brother?"

"It was fun, I enjoyed myself," she smiled sweetly.

"I'm glad." He paused for a moment, taking a couple breaths in before asking, "Is that…chocolate?"

She shrugged, "Uh, yeah. Emily made some." She slowly pulled the box out of her bag to show Carlisle. He eyed her with a confused look, "You hate chocolate."

She shrugged, looking away a little, "I mean, I don't mind chocolate."

"No," Carlisle chuckled, "You told me you absolutely hated chocolate."

"Well, uh, people change?" she offered. He smiled as he shook his head, his hand on her waist. He kissed her gently.

~

Y/N fidgeted with the top corner of the page in her book, bored to death as she had nothing to do. Carlisle was in his office, doing some late work. He'd thought she had already gone to sleep - she did announce that, after all.

But to be honest, she was too bored and too awake to sleep. She'd thought reading the book would help, but she sighed and gave up on it as she stood from the bed, stretching her limbs.

Maybe cuddling would help. Just as she was going to do just that with Carlisle, she decided against it. He was working, she didn't want to disturb him.

So instead she decided to get a midnight snack - or after midnight snack. It was almost one-thirty.

She stepped lightly as she made her way to the garage, opening and closing the door quietly to not make noise. She didn't want to alert Carlisle. Living with vampires made her excellent at sneaking.

She pulled the box slowly out of the closet, keeping the noise low. She opened the lid to the box and smiled at her secret stash of sweets. She had no idea why she had it, but she wanted sweets.

She pulled out a chocolate bar, breaking off a piece and popping it in her mouth. She smiled as she sat there, savoring the sweet treat.

She was there for a while, divulging herself in her sweets. She didn't overindulge, but she didn't quite enjoy herself.

When Carlisle finished work for tonight in his office, he headed to the bedroom to see Y/N. When she wasn't in the bed, his brows furrowed and he started searching the house for her. She wasn't in the living room, or the kitchen. He checked the bathrooms that were unnecessary before she came but she wasn't in.

When he reached the garage, he opened the door and froze at the door with a confused look. "Y/N?" he asked.

She froze and slowly turned to look up at him, a hand held up to her mouth holding a cookie. She took a bite from the cookie and nervously said, "Hello, Carlisle… What's up?"

He blinked a couple of times, walking over to her, "What on Earth are you doing?"

She shrugged, dusting her hands off, "Uh…midnight snack?"

"You hate sweets," he accused again, "Why do you have a whole box of them?"

She sighed, "I dunno, I just want sweets."

Carlisle looked her over, taking the pack of cookies she began reaching for. She'd already eaten an entire sleeve. He set the box to the side, "Are you alright?"

Y/N chewed her bottom lip, trying to formulate the sentence she'd been so scared to admit. She tried to reach for her cookies, but he held them out of reach. "You'll get sick," he scolded, "Tell me what's wrong."

She sighed heavily before deciding just to blurt it out. Just rip it off like a band-aid.

"I'm pregnant."

Carlisle froze, and Y/N winced. She waited anxiously for him to react, to do something. Carlisle smiled and she calmed. Then he chuckled lightly and shook his head, "No, you're not. It's not possible."

A weight fell over her before she sighed, "I am. I'm a werewolf, so I can have kids, and well… maybe that's enough. Plus, I took a test three times. I didn't know how to tell you, I didn't want…"

Carlisle's smile had fallen. When she trailed off, he laid a hand on her cheek, "You didn't want what?"

"I didn't want you to leave me," she muttered, looking away.

He frowned deeply, cupping her face with both her hands now so she would look at him. She searched his eyes as he gazed into hers. "Y/N," he spoke softly, "I could never leave you. And you can tell me anything. You shouldn't have to be afraid. I love you, and I want the best for you. I'll never leave you."

She smiled and asked, "And…what about the baby?"

His smile grew again and her heart felt light. He told her, "Well, I've got to start thinking about names."

She chuckled as she hugged him tightly. She was elated by the fact that he was accepting her.

~

The next couple of weeks was spent with heavy preparation for the child. At first, everyone was concerned because the baby would be half vampire. Surely that had to be dangerous for Y/N, right?

But the child was also part werewolf and Y/N wasn't human. She was stronger than a human, she could handle a vampire baby.

The news was quick - too quick even - to spread across the town. The Cullens were having a baby.

They got lucky too - the baby grew close to the same pace as a normal one would. No one would be concerned about how quickly Y/N's belly would grow, Carlisle predicted six months. It was early, yes, but it was long enough that no one would question it.

Only two months in and Y/N realize just exactly what it meant to be Carlisle's mate. She knew he was protective, yes, but it truly surprised her just how protective he could get over her.

Especially when it was just some kid.

They were out getting groceries for the house when some punk kid walked past them. He saw her belly through her shirt and chuckled slightly, "Heh, that's a big one."

He was given no escape as Carlisle grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him over without hurting him. He let go of him and the kid looked between the two of them.

"Was that appropriate?" Carlisle asked as he looked down at the kid, the disappointed dad look written all over his face.

Y/N tried not to laugh.

"She's pregnant, not 'big'. Even if she was, that isn't something you need to be saying about anyone, regardless of the circumstance. I want you to apologize."

The look Carlisle gave intensified and she could have sworn the kid shuddered. He turned his gaze to her and spoke, occasionally glancing back at Carlisle, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I won't do it again, I swear."

She nodded, "Thank you. Go on before he continues his lecture."

The kid swiftly thanked her and left. She smiled up at Carlisle, shaking her head, "You know I'm a werewolf right?"

"Of course, dear."

"And that I know how to take insults and remarks?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you should have to," he kissed her forehead and they continued walking.

She laughed lightly as she kept walking with him. He told her gently, "I'll always protect you. Even if it is from punk kids calling you 'big'."

Y/N shook her head as she laughed, hand tight in his hold as she walked with him. He looked down at her, a smile on his face as he watched her. She looked up at him, "What?"

He shrugged, "You're glowing." She chuckled again.

Continue reading here...

Dr. Cullen taglist: @folkeverandalways

[shotorozu]

TITLE : hospital stay

PAIRING : bakugou katsuki x reader

SYNOPSIS : you’re in the hospital on your boyfriend’s birthday, and bakugou seems to have no issue with spending it in there.

WARNING(S) : MHA MANGA SPOILERS ‼️ (recent arc)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, a quirk similar to the avatar but that’s about it.

note(s) : so, it’s bakugou’s birthday. and i had this idea since march 20 😦 so i’ve been waiting for his birthday to come for literally a month but i didn’t want to post this way too early. alsooo i don’t know if this arc happened near spring but lets pretend it did for the sake of the story

When you woke up, the fluorescent lights were the first to hit your face

Following by the incoming beeping of a monitor, and the sudden throbbing of your head, the dryness of your throat evident.

Blinking slowly (or trying to, your other eye being a bit delayed.) you try recalling what just happened. You’re in a hospital, that’s one thing you know, but the specifics are still unknown to you.

Right. You remember now, you were fighting along side your classmates, and you managed to get blasted away when you thought that shielding Bakugou Katsuki would work. Yeah, you were sure that you were going to get an earful from him, if he—

You jolt when you notice said blond standing right next to your bed, vermillion eyes staring deep into your own, and somewhat— you could feel the weight and intensity in the stare

“S-since when did you get here?” You’re startled, and your voice is hoarse. Bakugou doesn’t formulate a response, and chooses to avoid the question as a whole.

“Finally you’re up.” He rolls his eyes. He looks much better than you remembered, despite having a few bandages on his forehead— he looked well. “It’s been 5 fucking days.”

“Five days?” You question out loud, your sense of time all disorganized. You clench your hand, just to see if your quirk was still working. Seeing air, fire, water, and just.. something, would relieve your worries— but a look from the blond shot you down quickly. You decided that it was wise if you didn’t try.

The blond seems to be done with the conversation, since he immediately walks out of the room. Actually, why was he here? You’d expect him to be laying down in bed, but despite being hit with that beam, he was walking around like everything was fine.

He comes back with a few other nurses, and they’re relieved to see that you’re awake— and even though they’ve bombarded you with questions with how you felt, you couldn’t brush off the feeling of a pair of ruby eyes on you.

Just, glaring. It’s nothing abnormal.

When the nurses finally leave you alone, giving you details of a few injuries— like your injured— well, burned eyelid that honestly stung (it came from the fire aspect of your quirk) you would’ve expected to be alone in your hospital room for the rest of your time there but Bakugou stayed.

“You’re going to tell me why you jumped in front of me?”

You were expecting to be questioned by him, after all— what you did didn’t exactly shield him, since he was also pierced. You didn’t expect the interrogation to be happening this soon

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to fucking know.” And he suddenly changes his mind, just like that.

You would’ve said impulse as an answer, but you doubt that he would’ve taken that seriously. And besides, you were kind of glad he changed midway that he didn’t want your answer. Your voice feels parched, despite chugging down a glass of water earlier.

“Did you check up on Deku?” You cringe when you hear cracks in your voice, and the dryness is unbearable to your throat, but he nods. “Idiot’s knocked out cold.”

He doesn’t mention the fact that you were one of the last few people that were still rendered unconscious.

“Your throat sounds like the sahara desert. Do me a favor and drink up.”

You blink owlishly at the glass of water that was set on the mini table, and when you drink up— it actually does something to relieve (temporarily) the dryness.

It was a consequence of your quirk after all, using your quirk too much would cause your body to feel sore, and everywhere to feel dry, and he knew that.

Bakugou was acting uncharacteristically, and you just don’t know why. Maybe it’s not so uncharacteristic of him, since he’s been less of an asshole as of recently, but you know that he would probably deviate from the question if you asked, so the both of you sat in silence.

—

It’s the next day, the same as yesterday— except it looked like dawn when you woke up. Bakugou also appeared at the side of your bed once again, almost as if he was there for quite some time.

“Nice to see you too,” You think to yourself, and you’re glad you didn’t actually say that out loud. You try to stand up straight, but Bakugou’s quick to push your back against the pillows.

“Don’t sit up, that’s idiotic.”

“Right, sorry. How did you get here? Isn’t it too early?” The parched throat came back. Though the ‘magical’ baku-water helped, it’s effects were only temporarily, sadly.

“You call 7am early?” Right, because for him— 7am isn’t that early, you even remember seeing him up at 6 sometimes.

“Actually, wait.” You blink, trying to recall what day it was, and what month it was. You recalled it being spring but.. was it March? or was it April already?

“What.. day is it today?”

It was almost like he was hesitant to say, “..April 20.”

“What the— April 20?” You’re appalled, because the last time you remembered, it wasn’t anywhere near April 20, but maybe it’s your 5 day unconsciousness to be blamed. “Isn’t it your birthday?”

“Shut up,” He mumbles, and he shifts around the room in search of something, but it’s too dim to be able to tell.

“Medicine. The nurses said you should take it now.”

You don’t reply.

“It’s for your Sahara desert throat. The other things are for your fucked up eye and injuries.”

That seems to be enough to convince you to take the medicine, and despite wanting to run away screaming from the bitterness, you take the medicine— not wanting to be met with any consequences

“Why are you spending your birthday here?”

“Do idiots like you ask that many questions?” He shoots back, and you’re unfazed by the fact that he just called you an idiot. You wouldn’t blame him.

“No but.. you seem fine.”

“A few days ago I was not, but now I am because I took medicine.” He walks over to untwist a few medicine caps, it appears to be for your eye.

“So, Does my eye look fine?” You bat your eyelashes just to mess with him, and he flicks your forehead with an ointment cap “No.”

“Sorry, sorry,” You laugh, choosing to completely ignore the sudden sharp pain when you laugh.

He bends down to reach eyelevel, “Can you see?”

“Sorta.” Your eye has this thin blur filter to it, that can’t be good— can it? Going blind in one eye, and having to wear an eye patch.

It was almost on cue, because Bakugou says “You’ll be rocking the pirate look if you don’t take your medicine,” Instead of handing the medicine for you to apply, he quickly applies a decent amount around your eyes— not giving you a warning whatsoever.

You wince slightly, but you’re glad it’s over. But why is he playing nurse with you? And why was he brushing off the fact that it’s literally his birthday.

—

Through out the entire day, Bakugou continued to act as if he had some responsibility over you. From helping you put on your medicine, to just monitoring you with eyes of a hawk. The fact that he chose to ignore all your protests was just a part of him.

His behavior was also very.. interesting. It would swing from being his usual self, to being this eerily quiet and calm Bakugou. You would’ve guessed that you were having a fever dream, if it weren’t for the fact that he wore his usual scowl on his face.

What remained consistent, despite it all— was that he stayed. He ate lunch in your room. He only left when the doctors and nurses asked him too, but that was only temporary. He stayed with you the entire day, even when the clock stroke 5pm.

But it’s quite literally his birthday? Why would he spend it in a hospital room with some extra? Or idiot? Let alone, why would he take care of said idiot/extra on his birthday? You don’t know because he refuses to tell you on why he spent it here.

“Did you at least get some cake or something?” You ask for the umpteenth time, Bakugou’s paced back and forth for some medicine bottles and bottles of water, and you could tell that he was scowling, despite the fact that he was facing the other direction, “Why the hell would I want cake? You’ve been asking weird shit all day.”

“Because it’s your birthday? Seriously— have you been brainwashed into thinking that it’s not your birthday?”

“What— fuck no. I haven’t been brainwashed.” He turns over to you, “I know today is my birthday.”

“Okay, so you know. Why aren’t you celebrating then? Did people forget? Or am I finally going insane?”

Bakugou chooses to stay silent. He stands up, and walks over to you— everytime he moves closer, you could feel your heart pound, luckily not at a dangerous rate.

“Birthday, birthday, birthday” He grumbles, quiet, but loud enough for you to hear. “That’s all you’ve been talking about. As if like you weren’t the one in the hospital bed as we speak.”

“Okay, is it wrong to remember your birthday?”

“Shut up, I didn’t say that.” He gets closer once again, almost to the point that your faces weren’t that far away.

“You’ve just been so concerned about my damn birthday, that you haven’t even taken a good look at yourself,” He gestures at you, by looking you up and down

You finally take observation of all of the gauzes, the IV tubes, and bandages, his words forcing you to look at what was reality.

“I don’t know why you did what you did, jumping in front of me like some kind of heroic bastard, it’s dumb. For all I know, I should be screaming at you, and wishing you the worst for that.” He clenches his fist when he recalls, the scene replaying in his head

“But what I am saying is that, you can give me a gift if you’re so fucking concerned about my birthday. It’s the least you can do.” His statement is solid enough for you to take him seriously. You wouldn’t have if he was scowling, but it’s quite.. different. An expression you’ve seen all day, but seeing it up close is a different story.

“And that would be..?” You gulp, anticipation bubbles

And just like that, he presses his lips against yours, the warmth of his lips sending shocks of warmth all around your body— the impact was abrupt, but the kiss as a whole was surprisingly gentle

Yet, it was also similar to his quirk, it sparked up spurs of need and sent goosebumps all over your body.

You place a hand on his shoulder, the tubes around your arms making it too difficult to wrap your arms around him as you deepened the kiss, Bakugou’s touch is cautious when he lays his hand on a spot that was the least affected, aware of your injuries. Pushing the small of your back with his hand quite gently, he kisses you like it’ll be the very last— even though you both know it won’t be.

When you both pull back, you’re taken aback— unable to think of coherent words, and a proper response.

But this damn bastard, he smirks at you knowing that he just sent shocks and explosions of intense feelings all around your body, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Wait, that’s unfair!”

“What?”

“I had no idea you even liked me!”

“For the fucking longest time I did, why the hell would I even be in some extras room, if I didn’t care about them?!” He tries not to yell too loudly but, the tone of his voice gets raised

You blink, “And you preferred playing nurse with your crush this entire time, instead of spending it properly like well.. everyone else?”

“Who the hell said— Fucking hell, do I have to kiss you again for you to understand?”

“Enlighten me,” Your mouth quirks up into a smile, which ultimately causes his cheeks to be set ablaze.

“Playing fucking nurse with you isn’t horrible. It’s one way to spend my birthday, even when you give me shit about it” His brows press together, trying to drown out his flustered expressions with a scowl, “There’ll be more birthdays to come, so why would I be ‘wasting’ it here? There, that’s it. You happy now?”

Silence.

“..More than happy. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your thing for playing nur—”

“Don’t you fucking finish that thought,” He says stern. “I’m going to get the nurses to check on you, and then— I’ll go home and come back again, tomorrow.”

He storms off, and when the blond is sure that he’s not in your line of vision anymore— he slumps against the wall

“Fucking hell, they’re driving me crazy.” He mumbles, recalling what he had pulled off earlier.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Insatiable

also on ao3

written for the Monster March prompt list this is just a little bonus, TECHNICALLY I already wrote an incubus fic but 

Geralt knows about Jaskier, but to anyone and everyone else, it's a well-guarded secret. It's never caused either of them any harm and he can protect Jaskier from other Witchers who might not be so selective in their killing of monsters. He's never seen Jaskier as a monster, barely even thinks of him as being an incubus most of the time - until he gets tired and crabby from being on the road for too long without sex. Geralt never thought it would get them into trouble in town.

But here he is in the mayor's house with the doors barred, being accused of bringing monsters into their town. Geralt fumes at the audacity of calling Jaskier a monster, but it does him no good.

The guards he incapacitates with a sharp hit to the back of the neck and the mayor backs down as soon as Geralt turns his swords on him. Geralt scolds him for his behaviour, assures him he will never be back, and leaves. His mind is racing as he heads back out onto the street. The mayor will surely call for more guards and Geralt left Jaskier back at the inn which means he could be anywhere. Fuck.

He asks around at the inn and is relieved to hear Jaskier's gone off with the innkeeper's daughter, which means he likely hasn't left the inn. Geralt follows his nose, easily catching the scent of lavender and lust, and makes his way to a room at the very back of the inn. He would have thought it was a storeroom if he couldn't hear the creaking of a bedframe from within. Sighing, he resigns himself to walking into the room, to seeing Jaskier in the middle of it. He opens the door and storms in to keep from thinking about it, but the reality is… much worse.

Jaskier's on his knees with his trousers down, his prick in his hand as he buries himself beneath the skirts of the innkeeper's daughter. Geralt's mouth goes dry at the sight and he has to force his feet to move.

"Jaskier," he whispers, harsh. Jaskier emerges from beneath her skirts, turning to look at him and his companion frowns and pulls herself up onto the bed fully. "We have to go."

"Geralt-" Jaskier says pointedly and Geralt knows. He understands. But this could be a matter of life and death for Jaskier and he needs to get him out of here without anyone else finding out.

"Jaskier," he tries again, "we have to go."

"I know, darling. Half an hour." He reaches up for his companion again and Geralt realizes this isn't going to be easy. If he strains his hearing, he can hear the sound of hoofbeats approaching and that means it's time for them to leave. Now.

He crosses the room in three strides, hauling Jaskier up by the back of his shirt. Jaskier squawks and writhes, but Geralt pulls him up over his shoulder, trying to avoid the fact that Jaskier's bare ass is right next to his face. It's hard enough dealing with the pressure of his cock jutting into the front of his shoulder. Geralt forces himself calm, focusing instead, on what they would do to Jaskier if they find him. It helps to quell his erection but only serves to worsen his fear.

Faintly, he's aware of Jaskier muttering at him and asking to be allowed to dress himself, but Geralt tunes him out in favour of getting away. It's not until they reach the stables that he sets Jaskier down and allows him to redress himself as well as possible. Geralt sets himself to readying Roach, then turns back to Jaskier.

"Geralt, that the everloving fuck-"

"Someone found out," he interrupts, lifting Jaskier gracelessly off his feet and onto Roach.

He climbs up in front of him, settling himself so Jaskier can slide up close behind him. He can feel the press of Jaskier's erection against the small of his back, even with the saddle between them and it drives him mad. He can't focus on anything else as he guides Roach onto the main path and spurs her forward.

By the time they make it to the next town, hours later, Geralt is exhausted and in desperate need of a good wank, but he's not willing to let Jaskier out of his sight. Jaskier is a little grouchy as they dismount and take Roach to the stables, but Geralt doesn't think much of it - he was interrupted before he got around to fucking, after all.

Geralt keeps him close as he pays the stablehand and guides Jaskier toward the inn to rent a room. Jaskier doesn't speak and Geralt feels terrible about it, but he knows it's better than Jaskier being killed.

They proceed with their nightly routine as usual, then turn in for the night early. Geralt doesn't want to stay here long and they'll need the rest for an early start. But when Jaskier climbs into bed, he keeps his distance and the guilt eats away at him. He knows he did the right thing, but Jaskier seems unconvinced.

Jaskier shifts again, clenching his fists. His skin burns and itches, his cock thick and aching between his legs. He's been hard for hours, desperate to come but unable to slip away. Up until now he'd been somewhat pacified, running on adrenaline and fear but now the need is hitting him at full force and his whole body aches.

And what is he supposed to do with Geralt lying half-naked next to him? Summers in the west are hot and humid and he can't exactly tell Geralt to put a shirt on, but his being shirtless is only making matters worse. Jaskier can smell him, the worn leather and clean sweat. The faint scent of lingering arousal that drives him insane. He squirms in place, then turns onto his back to try and relax, but it doesn't help. Nothing helps, nothing eases the need or cools his burning skin.

It has to have been an hour at least when Geralt turns to him and places a hand on his hip. Jaskier barely holds back a moan at the brief touch and shudders as Geralt leans in.

"Go to sleep Jaskier, we have to be up early in the morning."

"If I can't sleep, it's your fault."

"Look, I know you're mad, but would you rather be dead?"

"Yes!" Jaskier snaps, "you have no idea what this fucking feels like." That seems to stun him and Geralt pulls back, staring at him with wide eyes. "Geralt I feel like I'm going to burn alive. I need to- Imagine being so turned on you can't stand it and then just being told no."

Geralt's lips part and the faint scent of arousal spikes and that's too fucking much. Jaskier groans, pulling himself right to the edge of the bed and turning away from Geralt. He curls in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his fists. Geralt presses up close behind him and he could cry.

"Tell me what's wrong," he breathes, "tell me how I can help."

"You can't," Jaskier whimpers. "You stopped me halfway-" he groans, knowing Geralt's distaste for his exploits. "Earlier, you interrupted me and the innkeeper's daughter and I didn't get to finish. Geralt I'm not supposed to- it's bad for me to stop halfway, it becomes uncomfortable, painful."

"How can I help?"

Jaskier sighs in frustration. "Geralt you don't understand. You can't help, I need to come." There's a long pause and then Geralt shifts behind him.

"I understand if you don't want me to, but I'll help if you need it."

"Geralt-" he chokes, "I don't want you to feel obligated or think this is your fault, it's just the way I am-"

"I don't. I want to help." Jaskier winces. Geralt may be offering sex, but he doesn't know the extent of it, doesn't know Jaskier's feelings or how many nights he's lain awake thinking of exactly this. A firm but gentle hand rests on his hip, slipping forward to brush against his stomach. "Is this okay?" Geralt breathes, "I want to help."

Jaskier whimpers and nods his response, too overwhelmed by the softness in Geralt's voice to formulate a proper answer. Geralt shifts, tugging on Jaskier's hip for him to move closer and he does, shifting backward until Geralt's chest meets his back. He barely holds back a moan, pressed up against all that hot, bare skin and he rolls his head back, shutting his eyes.

Geralt immediately takes advantage of the position, pressing his lips to Jaskier's neck and kissing him softly. His lips drag against his skin, pressing up under his jaw and kissing along the curve of it. Jaskier's lips part, a soft sigh slipping between them and he's so focused on Geralt's mouth that he almost doesn't notice his hand sliding lower, smoothing down the side of his thigh and squeezing.

It sparks something in him, a desire he's kept so well hidden that he'd almost forgotten about it himself. But if anyone would be open to it, it's Geralt.

"Would you-" he starts, but his voice catches and he swallows back another groan as blunt fingernails drag up his skin. "Geralt if I let it down, would you- would you still help?" he asks warily, "if I let down my glamour?"

There's a spike in Geralt's arousal and a soft fuck muttered against his neck and Geralt's grip on him loosens, but he doesn't let go.

"What is it?" he asks and Jaskier shifts to lie on his back, holding up his hand. "The bracelet?" Geralt asks, running his fingers along the smooth surface. Jaskier's heart beats quickly, thudding against his chest and he's too nervous to speak as Geralt's fingers slip to the clasp.

Geralt unclips it, slipping it gently over Jaskier's hand and it's like a weight lifted from him. It's such a relief to have it off that for a moment Jaskier forgets that Geralt has never seen him like that and that he's spread out, fully naked, in front of him. Geralt just looks at him for a moment and Jaskier can feel where his eyes track from his horns all the way down. He squirms, suddenly wanting to hide himself away.

"If you don't want to now, I understand, I'll put it-"

"No," Geralt says, low and husky. "No, you look beautiful like this." He reaches up, running his fingers along the length of one of his horns and Jaskier nearly forgets to breathe.

Geralt's hand slips to his cheek, cupping it gently and brushing his thumb along his cheek. Jaskier's eyes flick up to meet his and Geralt barely holds his gaze for a second before dipping down to kiss him.

Geralt's mouth is hot and wanting and he shifts so the angle is better, deepening the kiss and groaning against him. His hand moves again, sliding down his chest and into the hair covering his hips. Geralt runs his fingers through it, tugging lightly and when his fingers brush the inside of his thigh, Jaskier moans.

"Oh," he breathes, "Geralt please." Geralt pulls back just far enough to speak, pressing light kisses against Jaskier's lips.

"Tell me what you want."

"Touch me, please."

Without hesitation, Geralt wraps the same hand around his cock. Jaskier's already leaking steadily against his hip and Geralt's fingers slide through the pre-come, slipping down his length. Jaskier's hips jerk instinctively and he throws his head back with a moan. It's good, so good, but he's sensitive after being forced to wait for so long and every touch is almost too much.

He bucks into every touch, whining with the intensity of it. It's all rather unfair, he decides, that after so many years, he gets Geralt into bed and he can't even focus on anything but how badly he needs to come.

"Please," he breathes, "please Geralt-"

"Shh," Geralt hums, "I'm here." He presses right against him, hooking one knee over Jaskier's and it's so much.

Geralt's knee bumps under his balls and his cock - fuck, his cock - is hard where it presses into his hips. Jaskier squirms and whines and he knows he must look like a mess, desperate for it and leaking steadily over Geralt's fingers as he strokes him. And just the feeling of Geralt's cock sends shivers up his spine.

Jaskier doesn't settle, he can't settle with the way Geralt hand works over him, not enough and still just this side of too much. His thumb slips up over the head, pressing along the slit and spreading pre-come over him and Jaskier's moan fades into a whine as Geralt's fingers, slick and warm, slip to the base of his shaft and back behind his balls.

The first press of Geralt's fingers has him whimpering and arching off the bed. He needs it, and he wants it more than that, but he can't ask Geralt to go that far for him. A hand is a hand and can be easily passed off as helping a friend; Jaskier knows about Geralt's younger days at Kaer Morhen with the other boys, but this is different. He isn't even human and he wants so much more than this.

Geralt's hand withdraws and Jaskier's eyes snap up to meet his, afraid he's done something wrong.

"Too much?" Geralt asks and Jaskier shakes his head silently. "Then what's wrong, you look sad all of a sudden."

"'M fine," Jaskier huffs, wrapping his hands around the back of Geralt's neck and pulling him down to kiss him. Geralt pulls away and Jaskier shuts his eyes. Fuck. He knew it was too good to be true.

"If you're uncomfortable with this, I could find someone. There's a brothel in town and anyone would be happy to take you to bed-"

Jaskier's fingers slip from his skin and Geralt looks down at him sadly. Jaskier squirms, turning away from him and curling in on himself. His cock throbs where it presses against his hip and he squeezes his eyes shut to force away the feeling. Geralt's fingers graze his skin, but he doesn't settle, doesn't touch him properly.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "I shouldn't have assumed."

Jaskier chokes out a humourless laugh and tucks his chin a little tighter against his chest. He wants to scream that all he wants is Geralt, that having his hands on him feels better than anyone else possibly could. But Geralt doesn't want him like that and Jaskier can't, and won't push him further than he's willing.

"We'll figure something out," Geralt hums and Jaskier feels when he settles against the mattress, close but not touching him.

"I don't want to," Jaskier blurts. He's tired and desperate and he feels like an idiot and having Geralt so close now just makes him want to scream.

"Jaskier," Geralt sighs softly, "you're suffering."

"It's fine," he insists, "it's not the first time."

"I'll find someone-"

"No," Jaskier says too quickly. "I don't want someone if it's not you." He doesn't think as he says it and it's not until Geralt shifts closer again and looks down at him that he realizes what he's said. He tries to backtrack. "I just- it's not the same with my glamour on and no one else-"

"You seemed so uncomfortable-"

They both stop at once and Jaskier inhales shakily. He casts his eyes down, shifting further onto his side to avoid Geralt's gaze. He curls in on himself and a shiver runs through him. The room feels cold without Geralt's body against him, despite the warmth of the summer night.

"I know what I am Geralt and I don't want you doing something that will make you uncomfortable."

Geralt shifts and then there's a warmth against his back, spreading up through his shoulders and neck. One of Geralt's hands settles on his hip, fingers slipping gently through the thick hair there.

"You could never make me uncomfortable," he says and Jaskier nearly whimpers with how badly he wants him. "Jaskier," he breathes, "if you need me, I'm here."

Jaskier nods but says nothing. He doesn't want this if it makes Geralt uncomfortable but he doesn't want anyone else. Not now that he's had Geralt's hands on him, now that he's had his hands on his body, not the mirage of a human one. He shifts, just slightly, and his cock slips against his stomach. He's so hard, his cock aching for the faintest touch, and there's nothing he can do about it. Perhaps once Geralt's asleep, he'll slip out and try to find someone, though the thought of putting his glamour back up is uncomfortable and disheartening.

He shifts again and a little mewl escapes his lips, low and painful, but this time there's a hand on his hip, settling him. It slips down his thigh, cupping his knee and spreading his legs apart as he's pulled onto his back. Geralt's hand slips to his thigh and Jaskier inhales sharply as his cock bounces against his stomach.

"Tell me to stop if you don't want it, but I hate seeing you like this. I hate seeing you in pain." Geralt's hand slips slowly upward, inching toward his cock and Jaskier tries so hard not to push, not to be too greedy for it, but the second he can feel the heat from Geralt's hand, he needs it.

He needs to come, craves the warmth of and friction of a hand wrapped around his cock and he shudders, arching up slightly as a wave of need rushes over him. He shuts his eyes, clenching his fist at his side and groaning.

"Please," he whispers and it's the softest, most pitiful sound he's ever heard. He winces at it, but Geralt leans over him, brushing his lips against his cheek.

Geralt's fingers brush against him before wrapping around, jerking him slowly. Geralt's mouth finds his, swallowing the desperate moans that spill from Jaskier's lips. He needs this, needs him and he can feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, the ache of desperation overwhelming.

When Geralt releases his cock, Jaskier heaves a sob, but then his fingers slip back between his cheeks. He's a little more aggressive than before, pressing more firmly and breaching the ring of muscle. Jaskier's whole body stiffens and then Geralt's slipping a hand under the back of his neck, brushing his fingers soothingly against the side of his neck.

"Shh," he breathes, "I've got you."

He pushes deeper and it burns a little, but the stretch feels like relief, and he relaxes as Geralt pulls out and back in again. He thrusts lightly but wastes no time picking up speed. He teases a second finger where the first breaches him and Jaskier rolls his head back with a groan, turning into Geralt's embrace.

"Please," he whispers, "fuck, Geralt I need it. Please."

"I know," Geralt rumbles, nose pressed to his ear, "do you have any oil? I don't want to hurt you." Jaskier groans loudly and Geralt huffs a soft laugh against him. "I'll only be gone a moment, is it in your pack?" Jaskier hums and nods, reluctantly letting Geralt slip away and off the bed.

He watches after him, eyes roaming over Geralt's ass as he bends to search through the bag. He's quick as he promised and when he returns to the bed, Jaskier groans at the prominent bulge in his trousers. Fuck. Geralt quickly unbuttons his trousers and shoves them to the floor, leaving him only in his shorts. The thin fabric does nothing to hide his erection and Jaskier can't tear his eyes away from him.

If Geralt notices, he doesn't acknowledge it and he crawls up from the foot of the bed. He settles himself next to Jaskier, sliding up against him and pressing his cock into his hip. He slides his arm under Jaskier's leg, slicking his fingers and circling his hole. He's gentle about it, too fucking gentle for how badly Jaskier needs it, but it feels… nice. No one else is so careful with him, no one else cares so much about how he feels.

Geralt rubs against his hole, slicking the ring of muscle with every pass of his fingers. He leans in, catching Jaskier's mouth in a kiss as his fingers dip in just slightly. Jaskier moans against him, whining when the pressure stops and chasing Geralt's hand with his hips. He wants to come so fucking badly, needs any sort of friction on his cock, but when Geralt presses two fingers into him and keeps them there, it's all he can focus on.

He loves the feeling of being filled, the feeling of Geralt moving inside him, working into him. He pushes deep, rubbing against his prostate and Jaskier yelps at the sensation. Warm breath dusts against his neck and Geralt huffs a soft laugh.

"Feels good?" he asks and Jaskier just whines, arching off the bed as he does it again.

Jaskier goes limp as Geralt's free arm presses under his neck again. He slumps against his chest, nosing at his collar bone as he shifts his hips, following the motion of Geralt's hand. He's stupidly close already, but after being pent up all day, he's too relieved to be embarrassed about it. And having Geralt wrapped around him, pressing inside him even in his own form is… there's not even a word to describe, at least not one he can think of at the moment.

He reaches up, wrapping both arms around Geralt's neck and Geralt allows himself to be pulled down over him, never once slipping in his rhythm. He presses his palm against Jaskier's balls and he thrusts into him quickly, his speed increasing as Jaskier's orgasm creeps closer.

Jaskier comes with three fingers pushed deep into him and Geralt's mouth against him, hot and eager. He kisses back as best he can, but pleasure sears through him and it's hard to focus on much more than Geralt's fingers and the press of his cock. Jaskier moans into the space between their lips, shuddering through his orgasm as Geralt holds him.

Geralt continues fucking into him until Jaskier whines with oversensitivity. When he draws out, he slips his hand up along the underside of Jaskier's cock, humming thoughtfully as it jumps under his hand.

"Feel better?" he asks and Jaskier hums.

"Yeah," he breathes.

"Good." Geralt dips down, kissing him soundly and Jaskier lets his hands roam, just a little.

But Geralt groans as he touches him, presses into the touch and Jaskier is encouraged. He wonders briefly how Geralt would react if he jerked him off, if he just slipped a hand beneath the hem of his braies and wrapped around him. Geralt's big and the thought of him hard because of him in any context is intoxicating, but to know Geralt got hard being able to see him fully? That's a special kind of thrill. One that deserves reciprocation.

He snakes a hand between them under the guise of feeling Geralt up and slips beneath the hem of his shorts. He's wet. Wetter than it should be, even if Geralt is usually wet - and that thought had his cock stirring again already.

Jaskier breaks the kiss and slips his hand to Geralt's hip, even as he rocks forward, chasing the touch.

"Did you come?" he asks, quiet and breathless. His cock twitches and Jaskier barely bites back a moan when Geralt's cheeks flush. Fuck, he did. That's… really fucking hot.

Geralt doesn't reply but Jaskier doesn't need him to go know the answer. He spreads his legs wider, pressing a thigh up against Geralt's crotch and Geralt's breath stutters as his hips shift guard.

"You're still hard," Jaskier says, flocking his eyes up to Geralt's.

"Mmm," Geralt agrees, "a side effect of the trials and the enhanced stamina. We can stop if you want, I'll be fine."

"You… want to keep going?"

Geralt laughs softly and noses under his jaw. "You've only come once."

Jaskier whimpers as Geralt kisses him again and then he's moving down the bed, shuffling out of his soiled shorts and settling between Jaskier's thighs. He kisses each thigh, pushing his nose through the thick hair and nipping at his skin and Jaskier shudders with the little jolts of pleasure.

Geralt shifts lower, sucking lightly on his balls before nosing under them. His breath is hot and damp and Jaskier squirms with need. He wants Geralt's mouth on him and he's so close if he just pushed a little further- But Geralt reaches up to hold his hips and Jaskier fists his hands on the sheets in frustration.

"Please," he whines, wiggling in Geralt's hold. Geralt knows he can wait, knows the worst is over and everything from here on is just for fun, but Jaskier's been waiting for this a long time and despite not needing to come anymore, he's feeling particularly desperate for it.

Geralt makes him wait.

He pushes Jaskier's thighs up, hooking his knees over his shoulders and he makes a point of kissing every inch of skin he can reach, including the shaft of his cock, but he refuses to touch his ass. His breath is a torment when he leans down again sync Jaskier is certain he'll be the one coming untouched if Geralt doesn't hurry up and fucking touch him.

Then, abruptly, Geralt pushes between his cheeks, licking a stripe over his hole. Jaskier lets out a little oh and Geralt's arms wrap around his thighs, holding him in place. His fingers dig into the hair on his legs and Jaskier moans softly, surprised to find that when Geralt tugs, it feels good.

He groans and rocks his hips down, encouraging the press of Geralt's tongue, the squeeze of his fingers. Geralt is enthusiastic, pressing wet kisses against him and letting his tongue drag over his hole as he moves up. When he pulls away, Jaskier presses his hips up, but Geralt just hums softly, nipping at the swell of his ass.

Sharp teeth graze against his skin and Jaskier's breath catches. Geralt nips and sucks at his skin, only teasing his hole with the faint brush of his fingers. The press of his teeth only makes his arousal burn hotter and it sits low in his belly, fiery and impatient.

Then, abruptly, Geralt's mouth is back on him again and Jaskier groans, rolling his head to the side and reaching down to Geralt. He presses his fingertips through his hair, slipping the strands through his fingers and he tugs. He wants to kiss him, wants to guide Geralt's mouth back to his own, but Geralt just moans at the pressure. Jaskier's breath catches.

Geralt doubles down after that, licking over him and pressing his tongue against his rim. When he pushes in, Jaskier rocks his hips, wanting more, wanting Geralt inside of him. His tongue, his fingers, his cock. It doesn't matter, he just wants it in him and he doesn't want to wait any longer.

Geralt doesn't make him wait long, pushing his tongue as far as it will reach before slipping a finger in next to it. He slides a second in next to it, stretching him and licking between his fingers, thrusting quickly into him. Jaskier rocks back on him and Geralt's fingers slip just a little, pressing deeper. He presses his nose to the base of Jaskier's spine, breathing heavily against his skin and pressing soft kisses there as his fingers continue working into him.

"I want to fuck you," Geralt hums, soft, into Jaskier's skin.

"Oh Geralt, please."

Geralt's free hand runs up his thigh, squeezing around his hip and as his other fingers withdraw, he shifts so his knees press under his thighs instead and he bends low to kiss him. Geralt's cock slides against his ass and they both groan, but he can feel the way Geralt smiles against him.

"Fuck," he breathes, "you're so good for me."

Jaskier just squirms, desperate for it. They can talk later. Later he'll talk Geralt off if that's what he wants but right now he just wants his cock. He winds his arms around Geralt's neck, holding him close and using him for leverage as he rocks his hips. But he doesn't have to try hard.

Geralt gets one hand around his back and pushes his shorts down with the other, letting his cock spring free. It bumps against Jaskier's thigh and then Geralt's shifting forward, pressing his cockhead against him and Jaskier rolls his head back, eyes squeezed shut as Geralt presses into him.

It burns a little. It always does initially, but Jaskier loves the stretch of him, loves thinking about Geralt sliding into him and the way his body opens to him. Geralt's bigger than any of the men he's been with recently, though this isn't news to him. Jaskier's seen him naked more times than he could count, has daydreamed about riding his cock or sucking him off under the table at a banquet. None of his fantasies ever started out this way, but he wouldn't trade the real thing for any of them.

He twitches at the thought and Geralt bucks forward hard, pressing right up against his prostate. Jaskier tries to keep it together, but he's doing a spectacularly bad job of it and when Geralt rocks forward again, he's overcome.

Jaskier comes with a soft cry, biting down on his lip and reaching for his cock in a belated, half-hearted attempt to stave off his orgasm. He clenches automatically and shoves his hips down, driving himself onto Geralt's cock. He's still coming, still working through it when Geralt lets out a low, "fuck" and then he's lurching forward, hands fisted in the bed on either side of Jaskier's torso.

It's not until he opens his eyes, sees the way Geralt's face is pinched up, that he realizes he's close. And fuck, if it isn't the hottest thing he's ever seen.

Without hesitation, Jaskier reaches for him, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him hard. It's uncoordinated and rushed, but Geralt kisses back with just as much enthusiasm, already rocking forward lightly. When he finally succumbs to the need to breathe, Jaskier draws away smiling, his hands still on Geralt's face.

"Fuck, Jask," Geralt huffs.

"Mm," he agrees.

He's happy, floating, and so long as Geralt doesn't do anything to get him wound up again, he'll be happy to curl up next to him and sleep. Unlikely considering he won't hear of Geralt going away without coming, but Geralt is already pulling out and slipping away - not that he gets very far.

Before Jaskier can even ask where he's going, Geralt is back between his legs slipping three fingers into him with ease.

"Thought you were gonna fuck me," Jaskier hums, his voice breaking on a whine as Geralt's fingers rub against his prostate. "Oh."

"I will," Geralt promises, pressing his nose into the join of Jaskier's hip and biting. "But you're so tight and wet I'm not gonna last. Think I can make you come again first, hm?" Geralt thrusts forward again, rubbing firmly against him and Jaskier's eyes roll back in his head as he goes limp against the bed.

He wants to tease Geralt about making him wait, but how can he complain when it feels this good?

"Yeah," he mumbles, "yeah okay, I think so."

"Good," Geralt hums.

He presses his lips to Jaskier's stomach, nosing at the soft skin as his fingers work into him. It registers when Geralt nips at him, but only barely. His mind is foggy with lust and he's so focused on the forward thrust of Geralt's fingers that he hardly notices anything else. Already, he feels the swell of arousal building, tight and coiling in his gut, but he isn't annoyed like he might be, because tonight coming again doesn't mean this is over. Geralt has promised to fuck him if he comes again and Jaskier is delighted.

He loves giving everything to his lovers, but there aren't many times he gets to lie back and be ravished. He loves to be fucked after he's already come, to feel that heady need of a partner who (most of the time) has already come themselves but wants to see him come again. There's nothing better. Except, perhaps, the way Geralt looks up at him with dark eyes, lips just slightly parted where they press against Jaskier's skin.

But Geralt is delicious in every sense of the word and Jaskier could fuck him every day for the rest of his life and still come back wanting more. He lets his fingers slip through Geralt's hair, running his fingers down his shoulders, brushing along taught muscles. He inhales deeply as Geralt shifts against him, the twin scents of their arousal combining into something that leaves him delirious.

He groans with it, shifting his hips in time with Geralt's fingers. He's fucked and been fucked more times than he can count, but there's something distinctly different about Geralt, something that's so much more than the others. It's his own feelings, he tells himself, it feels like more because, for him, it is. But when Geralt looks up at him with big, dark eyes, he's breathless.

"Gods," he groans, "just like that-"

Jaskier cuts himself off with a gasp as Geralt's teeth drag along his abdomen, scraping the sensitive skin directly above his cock. Geralt did it again and as Jaskier's fingers slip to the back of his neck, he licks a stripe up the underside of his cock.

"Oh," he gasps and then before he can even think anything else, Geralt's lips wrap around the head of his cock and he slides down the full length of him immediately.

Wet heat engulfs him and Geralt's fangs graze the sides of his cock and Jaskier's mind goes blank. His eyes roll back and he lifts his hips, encouraging. Geralt pauses when he reaches the base, nose pressed into Jaskier's stomach, and when he rises again his teeth press in a little more firmly, experimenting.

Geralt has always said he has an attraction to things that are bad for him and considering he's an incubus travelling with a Witcher, Jaskier supposes he's right. But the thrill of Geralt's fangs against his cock is a whole new level. If it was anyone else, he'd never let them get this close but this is Geralt and fuck, does it get his blood rushing.

He's so preoccupied rocking his cock against Geralt's teeth, that he nearly forgets Geralt's got three fingers inside him until he starts fucking into him again, slowly pulling back and thrusting forward hard. Jaskier gasps and shudders at the first thrust, pushing back into his fingers, but then Geralt's tongue runs along the underside of his cock, pushing it up against his teeth and Jaskier's overwhelmed.

Pinned between the two pleasures, he's not sure he'll survive long enough for Geralt to fuck him, after all. His cock throbs as Geralt finds his prostate again, and then as he sucks at the head, Jaskier's sure he'll come undone right there. He can smell his own pre-come dripping onto Geralt's tongue and he shudders at the thought of it, the thought that it's Geralt wrapped around him and inside him. It's almost too much.

Geralt pulls up to the head, ducking at the very tip of his cock and Jaskier moans, fingers digging into his skin. He's so close, just the barest touch is likely to push him over the edge. Then, as Geralt swallows him down again, the scent of his arousal spikes sharply and that's all it takes to have Jaskier thrusting forward and coming down his throat.

Geralt doesn't even stop to let him relax, just pulls off his cock and shifts lower down the bed. The hand that was inside him slips out to wrap around his cock and as Jaskier is squirming with oversensitivity, Geralt's tongue pushes into him. His entire body goes limp and all he can manage is a weak roll of his hips.

Geralt strokes him slowly, leisurely, and Jaskier loses himself in the sensation. He hums softly, broken by stuttered whines as though fingers slide beneath the head of his cock. But Geralt's tongue is what really has his attention, thrusting lightly in and out and licking over his hole and pushing back on without warning. It's hot and so it feels so ridiculously intimate that Jaskier could cry - though that's probably the overstimulation more than anything.

Geralt keeps a steady pace, refusing to pick up even when Jaskier's hips buck and he whines for more. Jaskier comes again with Geralt's tongue inside him, fingers stroking him slowly through it, and he feels like he's going to die.

His body could shatter into pieces and he wouldn't know the difference and he barely musters the strength to wrap his hand around Geralt's biceps. He can't pull him up, but Geralt seems to understand anyway, crawling up to lay against his stomach, lips quickly seeking his own.

Geralt kisses him slowly, deeply, but he's hard against Jaskier's hip, smearing pre-come over his skin with every little movement. Jaskier has seen Geralt when he's horny before, after a hunt that doesn't allow him to burn through his potions, or occasionally at a brothel, but never like this.

Here, with him, Geralt is unrestrained, rutting mindlessly against his hip as his kisses grow deeper, more feverish. Jaskier reaches down, brushing his fingers around the head of Geralt's cock. Geralt moans desperately against his lips and Jaskier realizes abruptly that he hasn't come yet. Not, at least since the beginning. He's lost track of how many times he's come (four, maybe?) but Geralt hasn't. The realization gives him a little burst of energy and he wraps one hand around his cock, keeping near the base to keep him from coming too soon, and slips the other through his hair, tugging gently as Geralt's mouth moves down to his neck.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," Jaskier mumbles, his voice rough with lust. "You're so hard love, you just wanna come, don't you?" Geralt whines against his neck but doesn't reply. His fangs graze the sensitive skin on Jaskier's throat and Jaskier rolls his head back.

"That's it," he coaxes, "you can bite me, I know you want to-" he stops himself abruptly with the realization that he never bit Geralt, all of his arousal, his desperation is just him. Geralt's teeth press into the skin of his shoulder, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to pull Jaskier out of his reverie - enough to leave a mark Jaskier will be able to look at for days.

"Fuck, Geralt," Jaskier whines, "gods, I want you. Still want to fuck me, darling?" Geralt growls against his skin and it sends shivers down his spine. "Mmm, I want to hear you say it."

"Fuck, Jask- I want to fuck you," his voice rumbles low, as he presses kisses over the bite mark, dragging his fangs as he pulls away. "Wanna feel you around me as you come again, squeezing around my cock." Jaskier whimpers but quickly guides Geralt's mouth back against his own, kissing him hard and nipping at his bottom lip.

"Fuck me," he breathes, "I know you want it and I want you so badly, darling. Please."

Geralt, evidently, does not need to be asked twice. He shifts so his knees are under Jaskier's thighs and presses the head of his cock against his hole. The head slips in easily, and Jaskier groans as he pushes deeper, stretching him open on his cock. Jaskier wraps his head around Geralt's neck, holding him close, breathing against his mouth as Geralt pushes deeper. He rocks his hips before he's fully settled, slow shallow thrusts that have Jaskier practically begging him for more.

When Geralt is finally fully seated, he pauses, propping himself up on his hands and dropping his chin against his chest. It's barely visible, but Jaskier can feel him shaking, holding on to that last little bit of control. He's aching for it and still, he holds off to let Jaskier adjust.

"How does it feel?" Jaskier asks, eyes shut as he focuses on the thick stretch of Geralt's cock inside him. His own cock fills where it sits against his hip and when Geralt speaks again, it twitches.

"Fuck. Good. Feels good." He rolls his hips back, thrusting forward hard and Jaskier nearly shouts as Geralt's cock bumps against his prostate.

Geralt sets a steady rhythm, quick enough to have him panting, but slow enough that Jaskier can still feel each drag of his cock. Then, abruptly, Geralt stills. His hand clenches in the sheets and his eyes squeeze shut and Jaskier knows he's trying not to come. He slips his hand to the side of Geralt's neck, tipping his chin up so he can look at him.

"Come for me," he breathes and Geralt whines as his hips shift, seemingly on their own, and he groans as he comes, fucking into him hard.

Jaskier holds him close as he drops to his elbows, tugging gently on his hair as Geralt moans into his neck. He winds his legs around Geralt's hips, rutting up against him, expecting Geralt to still against him, but he doesn't. Geralt doesn't even slow down after he comes, pressing his mouth against the side of Jaskier's neck and sucking marks into the skin. He snaps his hips hard and Jaskier moans softly, pulling Geralt's head back up so he can kiss him.

He bumps his nose against Geralt's, humming softly against his lips even as they part. Geralt shifts to one side, wrapping a hand around Jaskier's cock and stroking him in time with his thrusts.

"Think you can come again?" he asks and Jaskier nods instinctively. He knows he can, could probably come twenty times if Geralt's enthusiasm keeps up like this, but he doesn't say so because he doesn't want to push - as much as he would love the chance to spend all night with Geralt between his legs.

"Please," he whispers and Geralt snaps his hips hard.

It doesn't take much before Jaskier is writhing again, his cock sliding against Geralt's stomach with every thrust. The scent of lust and come consumes him and he arches off the bed, desperate to get closer to Geralt. Then, without hesitation, Geralt slides an arm around his waist, pulling him up into his lap.

His grip is strong and it's a damn good thing because Jaskier's limbs are still weak and all he can manage is to wrap his arms around his neck and kiss him, relying entirely on Geralt to hold him up. He works his hips as well as he can, but mostly just succeeds in grinding his cock against Geralt's stomach, smearing through his own come. Geralt fucks into him steadily, running one hand through Jaskier's hair as the other remains flat against his back.

Jaskier drops his head to Geralt's shoulder, shuddering as each thrust brings him closer and closer to the edge. Geralt's thighs shake beneath him, spreading further in the sheets to give him better leverage. He's close. Jaskier can feel it in every thrust, in the way Geralt's hand slips from his neck to hold him open for him, in how he nips at Jaskier's shoulder and groans against his skin.

Then, abruptly, there are fingers pressing against his hole, circling Geralt's cock where it sinks into him and then pressing in. Jaskier bites back a whine at the added stretch, but it's good. Geralt pushes in as far as he can, even as his cock bumps against Jaskier's prostate and stays there. He grinds into him and Jaskier loses himself in the overwhelming pleasure that zips through him.

He's so focused on Geralt's fingers and his cock that when he comes, it catches him off guard. He seizes up, thrusting forward to rut against Geralt's stomach as he spills all over it. His fingers dig into the skin at the back of Geralt's neck and his moans shift to soft cries, so engulfed by pleasure that he can't even think.

He's only vaguely aware of Geralt coming when he feels his come dripping down the backs of his thigh and cooling against his skin. Jaskier slumps in Geralt's arms, still wrapped around his neck and Geralt hums softly as he nuzzles against Jaskier's ear.

"Satisfied?" he asks and Jaskier hums.

"Mmhm. You?"

"Very."

Geralt carefully lays him down and Jaskier winces at the cold, damp sheets against his back, wishing they had somewhere else to sleep. But Geralt lays down next to him, presses up against his side and the sheets no longer matter. Jaskier shifts to get comfortable, tangling his legs with Geralt, who hums appreciatively and nuzzles close to kiss his neck. There's a beat of silence, in which Jaskier decides he's happy to fall asleep just like this and they can have a bath poured in the morning, but then Geralt stirs and breaks the silence.

"Jaskier," he hums, his voice already heavy with exhaustion, "you know you can come to me if you're suffering." He pauses, swallows hard and adds, "even if you're not."

"You seemed angry before," Jaskier shrugs, "I didn't want to bother you with it. Sometimes I can ride it out if I fall asleep." Geralt scoffs and props himself up, looking down on him.

"I wasn't angry, I was scared. Someone found out, Jask. I don't know how, but they knew what you are and I didn't want them to find you - I didn't know what they'd do. If I'd known what it would do to you, I would have made other arrangements."

"Other arrange- Geralt, don't be ridiculous. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause trouble."

"Don't be sorry. Just… come to me, next time. Tell me if it happens again and I can help. I don't want you to suffer."

"Geralt," Jaskier says softly, leaning in to bump their noses together, "if you're willing, there won't be a next time. I want you, I've always wanted you, but I never thought one person could be enough for me. I thought-" he winces and Geralt brushes soft fingers over his cheek, encouraging him to continue. "I thought if I tried to be with one person I'd kill them. And the thought of losing you-" his chest pulls tight and he shuts his eyes. "Geralt, I love you and I have always wanted you. I don't mean to put pressure on you, but if you'll have me at all I'd rather just… be with you. Not just as a last resort."

"Okay," Geralt breathes and it's not at all what Jaskier is expecting to hear from him.

"Okay?"

"Mm. I've wanted you too, for a long time but I thought if you wanted me you would have said something by now. It's not as though incubi are drowning in viable partners."

"Ah," Jaskier says, "I guess we've both been a little stupid."

"I'll make it up to you," Geralt hums, and before Jaskier can ask how, he's slipped out of bed and is dressing again.

All of Jaskier's instincts tell him Geralt is leaving, that after finally seeing him like this, he's had enough. But he forces himself not to think about it, to focus on Geralt's words instead, on his actions.

By the time Geralt returns to the room, Jaskier's cleaned up a little, reclasped the bracelet around his wrist and is sitting on the edge of the bed in only a shirt. Geralt frowns when he sees him and sets down the extra bedding on the chair next to the door before crossing over to him. He lifts Jaskier's wrist, rubbing his thumb over the thick gold band.

"A chambermaid will be up in a minute to fill the bath," he explains, "but when she leaves, would you take it off again?" It takes Jaskier a second to realize Geralt is talking about the bracelet and he looks up at him questioningly. "I'd rather see the real you," he whispers and Jaskier nods slowly.

Geralt dips down to kiss him and Jaskier lets himself get caught up in the moment, tangling his fingers in Geralt's hair and kissing him soundly before a knock on the door interrupts. Geralt pulls away with a smile and Jaskier can't help but return the gesture as Geralt turns toward the door.

He waits patiently while the maids fill the tub and then, once the door is closed and locked behind them, Geralt turns back to him. Jaskier is already fiddling with the clasp on the bracelet, but Geralt approaches and knees between his feet, taking Jaskier's wrist in his hand.

He unclasps it, gently sliding the band over his hand and Jaskier can feel the glamour lift. Geralt's palms smooth up his thighs and he stretches up to kiss him again.

"You don't have to hide from me," he says, "I want to see you." Jaskier's heart thuds heavily against his chest and as Geralt ducks his head, he winds his fingers through his hair, combing gently through it.

"I can't always," he says and Geralt nods.

"I know. I'd kill anyone who tried to touch you, but I know." He reaches up, sliding his fingers over the curve of one horn and he smiles. "You're beautiful," Geralt whispers. "At the inn, I panicked. I didn't know what I would do without you and I just hurt you more."

"You didn't," Jaskier assures him. "You saved me. And you'll do it again. And, come morning, I fully intend to repay you for that, Witcher." He smirks at him and Geralt huffs a laugh. "But first, I believe there's a hot bath and fresh sheets waiting for us." Geralt's arms wind around his waist and he lifts him off the bed, hands slipping under his thighs to hold him up.

"The bath can wait." Geralt tips forward, kissing the column of his neck and nipping lightly at the skin there. "I think those sheets have one more use in them."

[sky-berrie]

Goodnight - Damian

Summary: Damian pays you a visit at night ft. the one bed trope.

It was a typical eerie night in Gotham and as usual, you spent it alone in your room. You were completely engrossed in the murder documentary streaming on your laptop, the game of Tetris on your cell phone, and the barbeque potato chips you were shoving into your mouth. You were so unaware of your surroundings that you jumped right out of your seat and yelped when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Relax, Y/N,” said Damian, casually. “It is only me.” He was dressed in his Robin uniform. It was clean which meant that he was probably unharmed.

You scowled at him as your felt your heart beat wildly against your ribcage. Your eyes traveled to the open window. You were certain that you had secured the latch, added the anti-lift bar and activated the alarm not twenty minutes ago. Your newfound interest in murder mysteries kept you awake a night, so you amped up your security to give yourself some peace of mind. It should have been impossible for anyone to break in, but here Damian was, standing inside your apartment bedroom.

“Stop abusing your power like that,” you scolded.

“Stop leaving yourself vulnerable,” he countered, without missing a beat.

“I didn’t! Did you not see the steel bar and alarm?” you said with indignation. You had to wonder how he managed to slip in. In another life, he could be a magician, you thought.

“Indeed, I did notice,” he said. “It is quite the cute little system you have.” His smirk was as condescending as ever.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting a big reaction out of you.

Damian’s expression softened. “I am glad that you installed that, though. Now I do not have to worry so much about you when I am away.”

You had no idea how to formulate a response to a comment that was not an insult or sarcasm. You awkwardly changed the subject instead, “So… you need something or…?”

Damian looked at you expectantly as if he was waiting for you to continue. “Do not end your sentence with a conjunction,” he chastised you. “Proper grammar is imperative for effective communication.” You rolled your eyes again. Sometimes he was insufferable.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. And sometimes he was almost sweet.

His gloved finger gently tipped your face upwards so he could inspect it thoroughly. You found his concern rather considerate until he opened his mouth again. Damian’s face contorted into an expression of disgust before he said, “You are beginning to look like Drake.” Although Tim was very attractive, you knew how Damian felt about his adoptive brother. His statement was not to be mistaken as a compliment.

You pulled away and rolled your eyes again. “Got it. You came here to annoy me. Mission accomplished. You ready to leave now?” You pointed to the window.

“I am being serious, Y/N, you look unwell…” He looked around your desk space with a horrified expression. “And I can see why. When was the last time you slept?”

“Uh,” you blew a raspberry as you thought about it. “Yester…today?” you said, but it came out as a question. Damian looked unimpressed. “No, today. Definitely today,” you stated with more confidence.

You could tell Damian didn’t buy it. “What day is it today?” he challenged.

Your eyes roamed around the room in search of clues. The date and time weren’t visible on your electronics. You took a stab in the dark. “Saturday.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “It is Sunday night.”

“Oh…” you pursed your lips sheepishly. Sometimes the days blurred together.

“That is it,” he said with finality. He closed your laptop. “You are banned from watching murder mysteries videos at night.” He went for your phone next. He raised it up for you to see your game of Tetris disappearing as he powered it off. “I am confiscating your phone every evening from now on.”

“What?” you whined, lunging out for your phone. Damian tucked it away and out of reach in the inner pocket of his uniform.

“You are getting time limits. Blue light disrupts your circadian rhythm - no laptop or phone after 10 pm.” He grabbed the crinkly chip bag. “And these, well, you really should not eat these ever. Do you know how much sodium is in this bag? Your arteries will know.” He tossed the half-empty bag into the trash can beside your desk.

“No!” You protested. He had no right to order you around.

“Yes,” he asserted. You watched him fluff up your pillows, tuck the sheets firmly under the mattress, and smooth out the bed spread. “You are going to bed now. Get in.” He lifted the covers for you.

“Yeah, no thanks,” you chuckled humourlessly. You just wanted to finish watching the unsolved mystery of the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902 and be so terrified that you can’t sleep for the next three days.

“Y/N,” he said sternly, indicating that he wasn’t in the mood for an argument.

“Fine,” you grumbled. You knew Damian was stubborn and wouldn’t take no for an answer. You figured that you would get in bed to appease him and get rid of him, then you could resume watching your video.

You stomped extra loudly across your room to make a point. You huffed loudly as you crawled into bed. He pulled the covers up to your chin and tucked you in as if you were a little kid.

“Good night,” said Damian.

“Yeah, bye,” you replied impatiently.

Your eyes following Damian as he flicked off your lamp. Once your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized that Damian was taking off his Robin uniform. He stripped down to his undershirt and hung the tunic over the back of your chair before sitting down. “What are you doing?” you asked, raising yourself up on your forearms.

“I am going to stay,” he said, like it was the most normal sentence in the entire world.

“Um, come again?”

“I know you are afraid to go to sleep, so I will stay and make sure you feel safe… even though it is self inflicted fear and I ought to leave you so you learn your lesson. I do not know why you insist on watching murder mysteries knowing that you are going to be frightened.”

“While that’s a very nice offer, it’s also super unnecessary. I’m okay,” you lied. You couldn’t let him stay overnight in your chair just because you had an overactive imagination.

Damian raised a hand to silence your argument. “It is not up for debate. I will stay right here and you will get some sleep.”

“But you need to sleep, too,” you reasoned.

Damian shrugged. “I will make do here.”

Your throat was suddenly dry as you prepared to make a compromise. “You could… sleep… here… in my bed?” You prayed that he wasn’t repulsed by your invitation to share your bed. You and Damian were just friends but somewhere along the way your feelings changed. You caught yourself noticing things about him that you found attractive… like the way his eyes were so expressive and always told you what he was thinking… or how he carried himself with strength and confidence, even if it could be annoying sometimes.

You held your breath in anticipation. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. “Okay,” he casually accepted. While you were relieved that he wasn’t mortified by the thought of sharing your bed, you were a nervous wreck now.

You shuffled over to the very edge of your twin sized bed to make room for Damian. As he lay down, the side of his warm arm brushed against yours. You skittishly scooted away but tumbled out of bed.

Damian peered over the edge of the bed and his brows knit together in confusion. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, too quickly to sound normal. You tittered nervously as you climbed back under the covers. This time you lay on your side and faced away from him to put some distance between you two and to hide your embarrassment.

“Come closer, Y/N. I do not want you to fall off again.”

You shifted infinitesimally closer.

“Closer,” instructed Damian.

You inched towards him but left a good distance separating you two.

“There’s plenty of space here,” he encouraged.

You quickly came up with an excuse. “I toss and turn in my sleep. I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

Damian let out a hearty laugh.

“What?” you asked with indignance. You rolled over onto your back so you could see him.

“Nothing,” he denied, stifling his mirth.

“Tell me,” you demanded.

“The thought of you, in your footie pajamas, thinking that you could injure a highly skilled assassin, is quite comical. Don’t flatter yourself. Now, come here and go to sleep.” Damian patted the empty space beside him.

This time you listened and moved towards the centre of the bed. You were so close to Damian that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. The warmth was drawing you even closer to him but you reprimanded yourself and forced yourself to remain eerily still to avoid another accidental contact. Damian turned his head and you felt his eyes on you. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Y-yeah,” you squeaked. You bit you lip anxiously. Your hand played with a loose thread on the blanket.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” you said, this time more confidently although you weren’t fooling him.

“You need not be afraid of the dark, Y/N, especially when I am here.”

You knew that already. You always felt safe when you were with Damian, even before you knew he was Robin. There was something comforting about his self-assurance that made situations less scary. But that’s not what was making you jittery.

“Why do you bother watching murder mysteries? They always overlook clues and never investigate thoroughly. Besides, you have a real detective right here,” Damian said, with a tone of umbrage.

You shrugged and tilted your head. “They’re fun,” was your simple answer.

Damian cocked an eyebrow. “Being so petrified that you cannot sleep alone is fun?”

“I don’t know. I guess I admire you for being Robin.” You don’t know why you said that. You really shouldn’t be feeding his ego. It’s big enough as it is. You kept talking, against your better judgement. “Watching you solve mysteries and fight for justice got me interested in true crime.”

Damian only hummed in response. He was quiet for a while and you thought that maybe he had drifted to off to sleep. Finally, he said, “Would you like to know who committed the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902?”

You gasped and turned on your side to face him. You were only a few inches away from him now, but you didn’t even register his proximity. Your anxiety was long forgotten and replaced by curiosity. “You know who did it?”

“Of course,” he confirmed.

“How?” you breathed with skepticism. The case had been undertaken by several of the most high-profile detectives and private investigators over the decades and none were able to solve it. In fact, no new leads had been uncovered in the last eighty years.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Batman and Robin are, without a doubt, the best detective duo in history. Not to mention, that case was child’s play.”

You scoffed. “I don’t believe you. Show me some proof,” you said, calling his bluff.

“Very well, then. I will show you the file the next time you visit the manor.”

“If you’ve solved it, why don’t you tell the authorities then?”

“We have. It is connected to several active cases so the GCPD is not able to release any information to the public yet.”

You scrutinized his face, looking for any signs of a fib. He didn’t waver under your intense stare, but then again, he was accustomed to the batglare so your measly glare was probably ineffective. You decided to trust him. “Who did it?”

Damian turned on his side as well and propped up his head with his arm so that he could look down at you. He pretended to think about it, building up the suspense. “If you go to sleep now, I’ll tell you tomorrow morning,” he said, almost playfully.

“What?” you exclaimed.

“Better get to sleep right away,” he warned.

You couldn’t believe he would tease you like this. There was no way you’d be able to sleep knowing that the answer to the city’s most enigmatic mystery was lying right beside you. You huffed angrily and flopped back down onto your mattress.

Damian let out a deep laugh in response. You grabbed a spare pillow and tried to whack him, but he anticipated your attack and caught it. “Damian Wayne, you are the absolute worst.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

[solinarimoon]

Fields of Wildflowers - Chapter 11

Fields of Wildflowers 

Chapter 11

A Sihtric x OC story

AN: The story will start to get a little bit off canon/timeline here and in the final few chapters.  Just a heads up.  The previous chapters are here. And my master list can be found here.

Warnings: Typical TLK violence and drama but nothing else I can think of at the moment.

Word Count: 3366

Once the decision had been made by both Cwen and Eadith to travel with the company to Winchester, plans moved quickly.  Horses and provisions were purchased and goodbyes were made.

Lady Aethelflaed did not come to see the journeyers off.  She must maintain a certain level of propriety now and cavorting with her former lover would not rank high on that scale. Cwen also imagined it would be too painful for her to watch as Uhtred rode away.  But Aelfwynn did come, accompanied by Wyllath.  

Cwen said her final goodbyes and helped Aethelstan into the cart to ride alongside his grandmother.

“I am glad for your company, Cwen,” Lady Aelswith said once she had settled next to Aethelstan in the cart. “I would like to offer you a place in the palace to help me with Aethelstan, should you wish it.” The former queen’s words struck Cwen quite a shock. 

“My Lady, it is a very kind offer.  One that I do admit is tempting. But,” she trailed off.  Her eyes  gazed across the courtyard towards where Sihtric was readying the horses, “my future lies elsewhere, I am afraid.”

Lady Aelswith followed Cwen’s gaze and pursed her lips in disapproval.  

Before allowing her to make any disparaging statements, Cwen interjected, “Is there anything else I can do for you, Lady?”

After being given a tight lipped shake of the head, Cwen reached her hand to take Aethelstan’s own. 

“Once we are stopped for the night, would you like me to sing you another song, Aethelstan? Maybe one I can teach your grandmother?”

“Yes, please,” came his gentle voice as he smiled before turning his attention back to the book in his hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a full day's travel, the group settled on a place to make camp for the evening.  

Sihtric helped Cwen to dismount her horse and took the opportunity to steal a kiss from her.

The pair chuckled and Cwen hid her face in Sihtric’s chest when they heard Uhtred call,

“Sihtric, I saw that.”

“Sorry, Lord,” Sihtric called back, chuckling and landing another kiss along Cwen’s lips.

Cwen could not help the girlish giggle that came from her and the feeling like a bird was fluttering against the inside of her chest, trying to break free.

In all her years, she could not remember feeling as light and as happy as Sihtric had made her feel since they’re reunion at Aylesbury.  

On the road and on the run, Cwen had felt pulled to him.  But the feeling had been more dense.  Marred by something more grave, somber, serious.  Sihtric’s eyes had always been on her. Studying her and assuring her safety.  Cwen had begun to look for those eyes and found comfort and security in them.

But the dangers of their last journey had passed.  And that curtain, now pulled back from their relationship, shed light on entirely new and exciting aspects of each other they couldn’t wait to explore.

Since their night together in the glade, Cwen found her mind often returning to thoughts of Sihtric’s hands on her body, his lips on her skin.  Her body’s response to him being near her, to feeling his presence excited her.  

“I miss our night in the glade,” Cwen whispered as she looked up to meet his eyes. The look she found there left her knees weak.  

“Well,” the tembur of his voice rumbled in his chest, “while you’re out gathering wood for the fire, if you notice a nice secluded spot,” his words trailed off suggestively.

Swallowing thickly, Cwen took a step away from his embrace and replied, “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“What you do to me, woman.” Cwen heard him reply as she turned to stride away in search of firewood.  

Cwen had walked several paces when she found Eadith at her side.  The two women helped each other collect several pieces of wood before returning to the campsite only to be sent off once more since it would apparently not be enough for Lady Aelswith.

“It’s her way of showing she likes ya,” Finan told Eadith as the ladies walked past him into the forest again.  Eadith chuckled in reply and continued walking, while Cwen quirked her brow up at Finan.

“Well…?”

“Well what, Cwen?”

Sighing exasperatedly, Cwen replied “You still haven’t talked to her?”

“Hush,” Finan gestured with his hands for Cwen to quiet her voice. “And no… at least not yet.  Now go get more firewood, Cwen.  The Lady Aelswith is cold.” he chided her away.

Smirking and shaking her head, Cwen turned on her heel and followed after Eadith into the woods.

“So how does it feel?” Eadith pried after the pair had been silently collecting wood for several minutes.

“How does what feel, Eadith?” Cwen smiled over at her friend.

“Oh you know, just embarking on a new journey with a new lover?”

“Oh you cheeky..” Cwen trailed off after kicking up a small stick at Eadith and managing to not drop the pile of wood balanced in her arms.

“Honestly, Eadith, it just feels right.  It feels like I have found a piece of myself that was missing... that I did not even know was missing.  But now it is reunited with me and I am whole.”

“Well I am very happy for you, my friend.”

“Thank you, Eadith.  Now let us head back and see if this is enough wood for Lady Aelswith’s cold bones.”

Laughing, the two women turned to trek back along their path to camp, but their voices fell silent as they got closer and saw many horses and warriors surrounding their camp.

“What is this?” Eadith hisses while the two crouch low behind a tree.

“I do not know.  I can not make out any words.”

Cwen gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth as she watched men grab Aelswith and Aethelstan and march them over to climb into a cart along with Stiorra.

She can only watch in terror as the cart ambles away only to then have her attention caught again as she heard Finan cry out and the Dane’s crowd in around the men.

“What are they doing?” Cwen whispers harshly as their men are tied and strung upside down from tree branches.

Eadith does not respond, only stares ahead.

Cwen can see Sihtric fighting against his restraints and feels a steely resolve in her mind.

“They will die.  We must do something.  A..a..a diversion.” Cwen rambles as she formulates a plan.

“What sort of diversion?”

“Anything! Anything to bring the guards away from the tree.” Cwen hissed while she looked around for any sort of idea. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the tree, Sihtric struggled and fought against his restraints, only succeeding in wearing himself out and increasing his blood flow. 

His vision began to get spotty and he could feel himself beginning to fade. 

“Sihtric,” he heard Uhtred’s voice. It sounded far away and slow. “Sihtric, stay awake.”

“Cwen,” Sihtric groaned. “They can’t find her…” he mumbled.

But his thoughts were interrupted by Osferth dangling next to him from the tree. 

“Hey, it will be alright. They don’t know about her. Just stay awake, eh? Stay awake for her.”

At that moment, Sihtric heard a strangled, terrified scream come from the surrounding forest. As one of the Danes guarding the tree ran off to investigate, Sihtric felt the panic set in that it was Cwen screaming. 

Meanwhile In the woods Eadith was crouched over in the forest floor with her back turned to the approaching Dane. Cwen stood over her, clutching at her shoulders and feigning panic. 

“What’s this?” Cried the Dane as he got close enough to touch the two women. 

“It’s my sister. We were out collecting mushrooms and I don’t know what happened.  She’s with child and just fell and screamed. Please help us!”

Her pleading worked as the Dane rushed to Eadith’s side. 

Cwen stood back as he approached and allowed him to come between herself and Eadith. Once he was on a knee and therefore lower than Cwen herself, she grabbed a knife from his belt and before he could turn to learn what was happening, she plunged the knife into the side of the man’s neck.  Quickly, Eadith stood and backed away searching the woods for signs of the second guard.

Cwen pulled the blade out of the man’s flesh with a sickening squelch, but seeing him continue to struggle she forced the knife into his throat once more.  

A look of horror crossed her face while she watched the burly man fall to bleed at her feet, his mouth gaping open and shut like a fish.

“Orm…. Orm,” Cwen was startled from her horror as Eadith clutched at her and the two women knew they must move or else be found by the second guardsman.  Eadith grabbed the axe from the dying man’s belt as Cwen held on tightly to the bloody knife.

The ladies crept through the forest silently, skirting the edge of the treeline and avoiding the Dane.

As soon as they knew he was occupied searching in the distance, Eadith ran forward clutching the axe while Cwen rushed to Sihtric, cutting the bonds at his wrists.

As she cut, Cwen tried to rouse him, “Sihtric, wake up.  We’re cutting you down, so you have to wake up! Please wake up!”

Cwen breathed a little easier when she heard him begin to groan in response to her shouts.

“Eadith the axe!” Cwen gestured to the rope at Sihtric’s feet.

“Hold him steady,” Eadith rushed while swinging the axe upward, striking at the ropes.

After several cuts, Sihtric’s rope frayed and snapped and he dropped onto the ground and into Cwen’s arms.

Eadith moved on to help free Father Pyrlig next while Cwen tried to shake senses into Sihtric.

As he sat up, Sihtric gasped, regaining some of the feeling in his upper extremities.  

Then, before Cwen could register what was happening, the other Dane was back darting towards them.  Sihtric was up and moving away from her to keep the man back while Eadith continued to cut the men down.

But Sihtric had not fully recovered from being strung upside down.  The Dane overpowered him after a few moments, but it did not last long as Cwen tackled the enemy off of her lover.

By that time, Eadith had been able to free Father Pyrlig who rushed to Cwen’s side, forcing her away to safety as Sihtric grabbed the Dane and shoved him backwards, held tight against the tree.  Cwen watched as Pyrlig grappled with the man now too, restraining his arms while Sihtric used a knife to stab at his belly repeatedly.

Cwen turned her attention now to helping the others cut their ropes and regain the strength to stand. 

She was supporting Finan who was rubbing at his legs when she felt Sihtric’s hands grasp desperately at her shoulders.

He cupped her face then grabbed at her hands holding them up to inspect them, “Are you hurt, Cwen?  Did they,”

Stilling his panic, Cwen hushed his fears, “It is not my blood.  It is the first guard’s.  I...I killed him.” As soon as the words left her lips, Cwen could feel her own panic begin to rise. Her breathing became erratic and her eyes locked on the blood covering her hands and wrists. 

“Hey, hey, hey.  We are alive.  Breathe. Cwen, look at me.”

Cwen did as he said and found his eyes as they both continued to try and regain control of their breathing.  

Their moment was broken when Cwen realized Uhtred and the others were rapidly discussing plans.

“What happened? We could not hear anything. Only saw them take them.”

“It was Haesten, an old enemy who wishes me dead.  While we were all in Mercia, the Danes have taken Winchester.  That is where they are taking my daughter.”

Cwen could only stare in shock at this news.

“Lord,” Finan interjected, “they do not know who she is. They don’t know she is your daughter.”

Uhtred growled but Cwen watched as he immediately began to strategize.  Ever the lord and leader.

“Pyrlig, find Edward and inform him of what has happened here.  The rest of us, we go on to Winchester.  They will not take what is not theirs. Not while I live.”

The next moments are a flurry of activity as swords are retrieved and everyone begins a quick run following the route the enemies had taken.

Cwen grasps for Eadith’s hand who was still clutching the axe. 

“We have to move,” she breathed although the conviction in her own voice fell short.

As if breaking from a trance, Eadith meets Cwen’s eyes, nods and Cwen sees her resolve return.

Sihtric grasps her shoulder as he takes the axe from Eadith and they begin to run.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They seemed to run endlessly, hours and hours.  Cwen’s breath was ragged and her feet ached.  But she knew they must make it to Winchester.

There is a good chance that the Danes do not know they have Edward’s first born son as prisoner, but the idea that Aethelstan may be harmed or worse gave her the stamina to continue until nightfall and beyond.

Eventually they did stop for rest and to recuperate for a short while when the night became too dark.

Too tired to do anything more than flop to the earth, the group lay down, all panting, and stretching, and aching.

Sihtric moved himself to lean against a tree and Cwen placed her body between his knees, relaxing into his arms.

She felt as his hand rose to brush his fingers through her hair and he kissed the top of her head before resting his forehead against it and taking deep, steadying breaths.

“I can feel your heart,” she whispered softly.

“It still beats because of you, lady.” He replied, not moving his head, his mouth mere inches away from her ear.

Cwen smiled silently and focused her attention on listening to his heartbeat and continuing to catch her breath.

“You were wonderful, Cwen.”

“I was terrified,” Cwen revealed. “I still am.  If anything happens to Aethelstan,” she trailed off.

“I know.”  Sihtric did not try to tell her it would all be alright.  There was no way to know that it would be.  And Cwen appreciated him all the more for that.

Instead, Sihtric continued to stroke her hair as they both listened to their breathing returning to normal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After what felt like an eternity of running, they approached the gates of Winchester and took stock of the situation while regaining their breath under a large tree.

Cwen craned her neck to look up to the ramparts where men were pacing and spikes had been placed. Spikes with the heads of dead Saxon’s adorning them. 

This new Dane, Sigtryggr, seemed to be utilizing different tactics. It appeared the city was preparing for a siege. Something the Danes had not done in the past. 

Cwen sat and listened while Uhtred discussed ideas for what to do. 

“We are known here,” Osferth reminded them all. 

She felt Sihtric tense next to her, “Yes. Someone would give us up for their own safety.”

“But I am not!” Cwen spoke up forcefully. 

The eyes of her friends all turned to her and she felt Sihtric’s gaze burning into her. 

Cwen glanced his way for a moment before continuing. “I am not known here. I haven’t been back to Winchester for many years. No one will know me. I can find them and”

“We can find them,” Eadith interjected. Cwen turned to face her friend. “Neither of us will be noticed. Cwen is right. We could hold out in the siege. Keep eyes on our people. If possible let them know you’re here.”

“Exactly,” Cwen agreed. “When the time comes that you can enter the city and retake it, it will help to know where they are being kept.  And it will bring them comfort to know you are here.”

Finan looked at Eadith and Cwen in turn and Uhtred mulled the idea over.

“You do not have to do this,” Finan spoke.

“There will be no protection for you.  There is no way to know what you will find in there.” Cwen heard Sihtrics' low voice.

“You are right.  Both of you,” Cwen looks at the men in turn. “But we don’t really have any other options.  And if there is something I can do to help the people we love in there then I will do it.”

“You are sure, Cwen? Eadith?” Uhtred asks.

“Yes,” both ladies reply.

“Then we will find you some provisions to bring in with you.  You can not enter the city empty handed. Let’s go.” Uhtred finishes while standing and retreating back with the others to search for food or other useful items left along the road by those fleeing to the safety of the city walls.

As Cwen stands, she feels Sihtric’s hand reach out to take her wrist, holding her back as the others leave.

“I do not like this plan.” His words are honest and slow.  Cwen looks at him and has difficulty deciphering the tone of his voice.  

“I know you may be angry, but I can not stand by and do nothing.”

“Doing nothing might be better than doing something foolish,” Sihtric hissed while looking down at Cwen’s feet.

Cwen took a step back from him, the shock at his words written on her face.  Sihtric allowed her wrist to fall from his hand and he brought his eyes up to see the hurt in Cwen’s eyes.

“You are not the only one who can protect those you care about.” Cwen hissed in reply to his words.  “I have cared for Aethelstan as I did for Aelfwynn.  They mean the world to me and I meant what I told Lord Uhtred.  If there is a chance I can be of help inside those walls then that is what I will do.” Cwen’s words came out clipped and tight as she drew her arms tight around herself.  Farther from his reach.

She winced when she saw him scoff and run his fingers through his hair then down his face, leaving them resting in front of his mouth for a moment.

“You will need this on you.” He said taking a knife from it’s sheath on his belt.

“Keep it hidden but on you at all times.”  His words were methodic and instructive now.  The matter-of-fact instructions directed both of their attention away from the harsh words they had each spoken.

“If you need to use it, aim for one of the areas that is likely to do the most damage and allow you to get away.”

Sihtric brought his body close to hers now and demonstrated where to place the blade and how best to hold it.  

Once the impromptu lesson finished, the others had returned bearing a basket with a small amount of food and a large earthen jug.

“Thank you,” Cwen looked up at Sihtric through her lashes to find something unreadable on his face.  He spoke no more words, instead closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers.  A gesture Cwen had come to realize held special intimacy for her Dane and his companions.

Cwen breathed deeply hoping to quell the frustration in her head at his words earlier, but it only dulled the ache.  

After a few silent moments, Cwen pulled away and placed the knife in the pocket of her skirt before turning to head back to meet the others by the large oak, leaving Sihtric behind her and standing next to Eadith.

She took the jug, filled with water from Osferth’s grasp and then the two ladies walked towards the walls of Winchester.

Neither knowing what danger they may find inside.  Or what enemies may lie within.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list.

Tags: @maggiescarborough @pokeasleepingsmaug @nxrdist @mystic-shadows42 @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @lauwrite1225 @morosemagick @thebohemianpenguin @mrsalwayswrite @notyourwildestdream @obipoelover @ecarroll1978 @93xdiagonxalley @nobodys-business-world @evelynshelby @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

[fandom-monium]

For the Holidays - Part 2

Summary: In which Spencer doesn’t want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “It’ll be nice... having a friend there.”

WC: 1.8k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), insecure and in-denial Spencer, light cursing, (tbh with all the shit that happens in CM they should be cussing way more)

Spencer doesn’t text you. But he’s tried.

First thing he got home, he tossed his bag aside and ripped off his blazer before he threw himself on the couch, digging through his pockets for his phone. Screw reading, taxes, dinner. There are more important things at stake here.

But he’s been sitting there for an hour, glaring at the empty text box with disdain, willing for words to appear.

No such luck.

Spencer writes essays and academic journals in an hour but formulating a simple text? He curses the universe for only making him academically gifted.

He runs a hand through his hair. Maybe he should call? No, you said text. And he doesn’t trust himself enough to have a verbal conversation with you. He will get tongue-tied.

Shit, what does he even say?

It’s not entirely his fault, alright? He’s never been put in a position like this before, except when he goes undercover. And even then everything is planned for him with little contribution on his part⎼he makes small edits to better fit the profiles but that’s about it. All he has to do is scan the file once and in seconds he has his fake identity, his fake backstory, and whatever fake details make up his fake life.

But this. This is different. He has to be brave because it’s you, and he has to chill out because this is supposed to be fake, he reminds himself. Both are tasks within themselves. And yeah, he’s a genius but as Albert Einstein once said, knowledge has its limits.

Shit, his thoughts are so jumbled he can’t even quote properly. This is all your fault.

You.

He still has to text you.

Spencer groans and flops on the couch, the phone clattering to the floor. He doesn’t bother, laying there until there’s an imprint of his butt in the cushions. He stares at the ceiling.

He remembers that you were the one to say yes. He hadn’t directly asked you but you agreed anyway, which means you are willing to spend time with him. Which means you like him (enough). Which means you are friends, and friends help friends out when they are in trouble.

Like needing a fake date.

He rolls onto his stomach, lips pursed as he stares over the edge of the couch. His phone glints in the lamp light.

Just friends helping each other out. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Spencer takes a deep breath and picks up the phone.

He can do this.

⎼

He can’t do this.

“I’m so excited,” Next to Spencer, you nestle into the seat and adjust the fuzzy blanket over your lap, eyes gleaming. “It’ll be nice to see where you grew up.”

Spencer only offers you a tight smile. His eyes dart about as the other passengers settle in, switching seats and fiddling luggage into the overhead compartments. Some of them already requesting for airplane food. Who in their right mind actually wants airplane food?

Spencer really wants to be as excited as you, and he is; he finally gets to spend some time with you outside of work, without the rest of the team hovering (waiting for one of you to make a damn move). It’s almost nice.

If only he can enjoy himself.

His knee bounces nonstop. Against the armrest his fingers tap a rhythm matching the thrum of his heart. And his hair is even more wild having run his hands through it repeatedly before meeting up with you.

He isn’t used to this, being alone with you. Sure, you partner up at work, in cases⎼hell, you've even accompanied each other to a few events. But those were as friends.

Technically, you’re his date. His romantic partner.

Spencer’s never let himself delve deep into his fantasies; he’s imagined (more times than he’d like to admit) taking you on dates to your favorite places, you in his arms, him in your arms⎼you know, minus the imminent danger. All the sweet things that couples do. But they always seemed out of reach. So he’d cut them off, squash the ideas before they went any further. False hope only hurts if you give in.

But now you’re on a plane, rocking in your seat as you hum to yourself, genuinely thrilled at the prospect of seeing his hometown.

This is more than he’s ever imagined. He feels like his heart’s about to burst.

Someone needs to call the bomb squad, real quick.

“Reid.”

"Hm?"

"Are you alright?" You're looking at him, voice drenched in so much concern his stomach twists. He made you worry. He feels guilty.

“Yeah-uh-” He clears his throat, attempting a smile. It’s a sad parody of the real thing. ”I'm fine.“

You raise an eyebrow and scoff, "Okay, I think I know why you're being weird. At least, weirder than usual."

Spencer’s heart drops. He leans back as you lean across your shared armrest, catching the sympathy in your eyes. He stiffens, bracing himself for the rejection. He should have known sooner or later you’d notice his not-so-friendly affections towards you. Of course you did, he isn’t exactly subtle; all the lunches, the museum tours, the stars in his eyes when you wrestle down unsubs⎼

"You’re nervous about seeing your old classmates again."

⎼Or, he’s much better at hiding it than he thought.

Spencer can only watch in awe as you continue, “And it’s totally natural. I mean, I haven’t been to a reunion, but I’d feel weird too if I got to see my classmates after all these years. But have no fear, (Your Name) is here.” You cringe, suddenly abashed. “Unless I’m completely off the mark and now you regret bringing me along. Oh no, that’s it, isn’t? You’re uncomfortable with the whole couples act.”

Spencer shakes his head, and for the first time since take off, he chuckles, “What? No, I’m happy that you’re here. And I couldn't think of anyone better to play my partner.” A relieved smile from you and he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. He fiddles with his sleeve. “But yeah, you got me. I am nervous.”

Which isn’t exactly a lie. You're here, next to him. That's more than enough reason to be.

If he had to be honest, between you and organizing the trip, he almost forgot about the reunion. Then again, he never liked reflecting on his high school years. For obvious reasons.

But your perception is a bucket of ice water over his head. Now he’s wide awake.

You’re doing this because you’re friends. You just want to help.

Friendship never hurt so much.

“I didn’t mention it before, but I’m sure you’re aware I wasn’t exactly the most popular kid in school, being 6 years younger and all,” Spencer swallows the ache. You nod in understanding.

Bright, brown eyes meet yours. He bites his lip. “So, I appreciate you coming with me. It’ll be nice... having a friend there.”

A split second.

Spencer glances away as he says 'friend'. The word leaves such a bittersweet taste he has to hold back a grimace, look anywhere else but you. The word just doesn’t sit right with him.

If he hadn’t looked away, he would have caught the way your smile dropped.

You nearly forgot, though you’re on holiday, this is a mission of sorts. This isn’t about you or how you feel. This is about Spencer. You berate yourself, remembering you're not a teenager anymore; you're a fucking adult and mature adults don't squee at their coworkers.

No matter how cute and adorable they are.

“Of course,” You plaster on a smile and finger the edge of your blanket, unintentionally mirroring him. "Your welcome."

Spencer gives you that white-person smile you love so much. You have to bite back a laugh.

To distract yourself, you pull out your phone and open the Chess app, holding it out to him. "Now, how about that rematch?"

Spencer's face lights up like a Christmas tree.

And as you immerse yourselves into another close match, you feel your confidence grow with every move, chuckling as Reid grumbles about you cheating (you’re not, he’s just a sore loser). You’re an FBI agent, for fuck’s sake. You played spouse and romantic partners for weeks, months. A weekend is nothing.

You can manage playing pretend with a coworker. Just operate like this is any other undercover assignment.

You can pretend you’re in love with Spencer Reid. You can handle it.

You can handle it.

⎼

You can’t handle it.

As one would expect, it’s hard to not fall in love with Spencer Reid. Just as it’s hard not to show it.

It feels like only yesterday the lanky man quite literally stumbled his way into your world and you decided, ‘Him. I will protect him with my life.’ And while you’d totally do that for anyone on the team, with Reid, it hits different.

After you landed in Las Vegas, you had a couple hours to kill before the reunion started, and as the good friend and partner you are, you suggested he show you all the places he frequented when he was little. For research, of course. After all, you’re playing his partner, so the more you know the better.

It’s definitely not because you’re invested in his life. Because that would be unprofessional.

(The way he beamed at you was totally worth it though.)

Then one step in the direction of his favorite eatery and he slipped on a patch of ice. You caught him in time, but the way he looked at you, brown eyes wide and filled with awe, made you feel things you shouldn't feel for a coworker.

It only snowballed from there. Everything about him is just so… endearing.

But you’re at your limit.

Love and affection threatens to spill out of you. Your hands flex in your coat pockets, itching to grab Spencer’s pretty face. Even your chest aches from your heart having swollen twice its size. You feel like you’re about to explode.

This might be the most difficult mission you’ve ever worked.

But this is it, you realize as you stand in front of the closed auditorium doors. This is the final lap. Where everything you’ve practiced really matters. You just have to keep up the charade for a few hours, then you won’t have to struggle to fight back the hearts in your eyes.

Although, your clothes fit tighter than you remember and you’re trembling. Why the fuck are you trembling?

Next to you Spencer eyes the double doors, almost like he’s daunted by them.

Multi-colored lights filter into the dark hallway, silhouettes flickering and shifting from the crack under the door as cheery holiday music faintly streams from behind them, accompanied by shouts and laughter. From his old classmates. Who are most likely making jokes at his expense.

Spencer already wants to go home.

“Ready, Doc?” As if sensing his hesitation, you offer a smile and an arm to him. Your eyes gleam with resolve. It’s more than enough for the both of you.

You can do this.

A deep breath, he slips his arm into yours. “Yep.”

He can do this.

Together, you open the doors.

AN: 2/4?? 

note: don’t expect part 3 to come out as quick. it’ll contain panic/anxiety descriptions and id like to take my time to write it best :))) i hope you enjoyed the last bit of happiness for a while :))))

also i apologize that i havent gotten to all the requests!! the ones posted on my masterlist are the ones currently being dealt with, but i’ll get through them eventually thx for the patience :D

i remember seeing a post ab Hotch x Prentiss and I didn’t get it but watching CM over again 

i get it i so get it. when theyve both gone to each other’s homes? *tears up*

and my hate for seaver has been reinforced :)))))

[teenyweenynightghost]

The Fluffiest Alliance Chapter 1

A/n: So, I finally managed to write the first chapter. A round of applause please. I would like to say that I may have possibly ignored certain parts of the form i posted, but that doesn't matter. Enjoy <3

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing: Nothing explicit yet but it's fem OCs

Taglist: @fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @cheese-toastie-11 @messyhairday-me @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee @shehaddreamstoo @tiaamberxx @victoriadeangeliswifey @bidet-and-legolas @makapaka11 @juststalking @electra-phoebe

Efthalia woke up startled by the continuous knocking on the door, accompanied by muffled chatter. The sun peeked through the curtains, illuminating the room as well as her messy bed. She let out a deep sigh and stretched her arms, before sitting up against the bed frame.

“Come in!” She shouted out, mentally preparing herself for the day.

“Good morning, your highness.” A servant bowed, entering the room with a few other girls carrying food platters and amphoras filled with water. Every morning was the same, she would eat while her hair was being done, followed by clothes and makeup.

Today they had picked out a more elegant gown made out of blue silk. It had a boat neckline, falling down to Efthalia’s waist, where an embedded belt tightly accentuated her figure. It was one of her favorite dresses, as it brought out the few bluish specs in her eyes.

“I would like to know the schedule for today.” She queried Aethra, who nodded slightly before beginning to speak.

“His Royal Highness has decided upon the terms of the alliance with Lesbos, and he wished to announce them to you. Lord Ameinokles has also sent an invite regarding a joint participation to Elusinia.”

Efthalia pursed her lips and exhaled loudly through her nose, thinking about that damned man who wouldn’t leave her alone. Nonetheless, she had to remain calm and poised, so as to not cause any conflicts.

“Please tell the lord that I will be attending the festival, however I wish to respect the presence of Demeter and remain solitary.” She answered, coming up with an excuse.

Aethra nodded slightly before exiting the room, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts.

Heading to the balcony, she grabbed a lyre and began playing.

***

Walking down the empty hallways of the castle was never one of Efthalia’s favourite activities, especially not when she was surrounded by guards. The sun was in the centre of the sky, indicating that lunch was quickly approaching, however her father had called her in to discuss the alliance.

Having reached the entrance to the throne room, two guards dressed from head to toe in armour opened the doors as she made her way inside.

“Ah! My beautiful daughter, there you are.” King Iatragoras exclaimed, gesturing for his generals to exit the room.

“I would like to know about the alliance, father. Was it successful?”

“Not so fast, Αγαπημένος (sweetheart), trust doesn’t build in a day. Which is why-.” He took a deep breath, thinking of how he could formulate his words. “Which is why King Hyllus of Lesbos has required you to move there.”

Her breath caught in her throat, thinking about going to a foreign island which she has only recently had any contact with. Eftalia’s body heated up and mind went blank, as her hands started fiddling with the loose material hanging over her chest.

“I’ll be sending Lord Ame-”

“Don’t you dare say his name. I’m going alone If the only option is going with him.” The girl interrupted, horrified at the prospect of being stuck on an island with that stubborn cow.

He nodded his head slightly before raising from his throne, heading towards her.

“I know it is difficult, περηφάνια και χαρά μου (my pride and joy), and I know I am asking a lot of you, but this alliance will be difficult as it is, and we will all try to make it successful. Besides, I heard there are quite a few monarchs over there who could be considered...προβληματιστές (troublemakers). Who knows, you might get along.” He smiled, his heart breaking at the mere thought of sending his daughter away.

“Everything will go well, I can assure you of that, father.” She murmured, enveloping him in a reassuring hug. The king leaned into her embrace, the memories of the two of them throughout the years filling his mind.

She slowly pulled apart, sending him another smile before leaving the room.

***

The room was filled with an all too knowing voice, light and singsong, as Aethra grabbed a few glass jars from the mirror before her.

“The King told me about the alliance as well.” She informed Efthalia, while grabbing her chin and raising it, the mirror being filled with her soft reflection. The princess admired her own plump features as Aethra applied a reddish liquid to her lips. The scar tainting the lower part was prominent, even after years of having received it. She was a curious child, so, upon finding a shorter tree in the castle's garden, she attempted climbing it and hurt herself after she slipped. It brought back pleasant memories, those of a time when she had no worries, when her mother would cuddle her at every possible occasion.

“I have some news for you.” Aethra's voice brought her back to their world, as she met her gaze in the mirror.

“Oh?” A cunning smile forming on her face, being mirrored by the girl.

“Upon hearing your comment about the Lord may we not say his name,” she mocked, earning a chuckle from her, “the King has requested for me to join you in Lesbos.”

She shot up from the chair, turning to her, more excited than ever before, as she hugged Aethra so tightly she feared she would break.

“Oh gods, I’m so heavenly grateful for that!” Efthalia beamed, finally letting go of the woman to let her breath.

“My sentiments were the same as yours, your highness.” She bowed slightly, making her frown and pull her up by the shoulders.

“Enough with the reverencies. We are now official Travel Cronies, and we will address each other as such.“

The older woman chuckled, shaking her head at her foolishness before speaking again. “As you wish. Though I must say, I would rather be caught dead than be called a travel cronie.”

Efthalia snorted and rolled her eyes, heading towards a rack with a few dresses hanging from it. “We’ll find a name later. Point is, no more your highness or extreme politeness. For all I care, you can gossip about everyone in the castle with me.” She turned around at her words, sending Aethra a devilish smirk.

“Oh you have no idea how much of that I have.” Aethra began, dragging her by the shoulder and sitting her down again.

“Well please do share!” Efthalia inquired, but was shot down by Aethra’s strong glare.

“Once we get on the ship, and away from this island, I’ll tell you everything. But for now, you must act like a royal.”

Efthalia scoffed and rolled her eyes, continuing to look in the mirror.

Five years ago, when she was 13, her mother was struck by a dangerous disease, leaving Efthalia and her father alone. That was when Aethra came into her life. She was working as a servant, even though she was only two years older than her. They chatted a few times, growing more comfortable together each day, until, eventually, they became good friends. Aethra was like a sister to her; despite not looking similar at all. Efthalia was tall and curvy, long brown hair reaching down to her waist and bright green eyes placing their gaze on everything there was to see in this world. Aethra, on the other hand, was short and lean. Her dark skin was contrasted by her numerous scars. Efthalia had never dared ask her where she got them, but she could never help but gape at them. Her knuckles were the most bruised, almost white, and other large bruises on her shoulders. A shiver went through the girl as she imagined where she could have possibly gotten them.

“So, when are we leaving?” Efthalia wondered, breaking the silence.

“Tomorrow.”

“What?!” She screamed, her eyes widening in horror. Aethra stared back at her, amused, and continued braiding her hair.

“You see, the alliance was made one week ago. The fact that your father has only now mustered the courage to tell you is a different thing.”

Efthalia gasped, and sent the other girl a mock offended gaze, earning a smirk from her.

“Gods, Aethra, I did not know you could speak like this.” She laughed, faking a posh gesture.

“Oh you have no idea.”

Both girls kept laughing and chatting, as the sun slowly descended, being replaced by the luminous moon and trillions of stars.

Efthalia let out a melancholic sigh, now alone in her room, and took a seat on the balcony railing.

“Hear me, oh Hermes, the messenger of Zeus, the son of Mea, you that has a powerful heart and are inside all fights, leader of the people, lively, you that has many thoughts, director, killer of Argos with the winged sandals and friend of men and prophet to the people, you that gets joy from struggles and the targeted tricks and holds the snake in your hands, you are the one to explain it all. Hear my prayer, and give us safe passage on the voyage, and guard us once in Lesbos.”

She blew out the candles laying on the floor and shut the blinds before returning to her bed and falling asleep.

***

“Efthalia!” A loud voice shouted from on top of her, startling the poor girl awake.

“Gods! What?!” she shrieked, before seeing Aethra’s familiar face and calming down.

“Time to go, princess. You slept in while everyone got the luggage packed onto the ship, but now you have to get ready.”

Efthalia groaned, rolling her eyes and grumpily getting out of bed. She wasn’t interested in appearances at the moment so she sat down at a table and began devouring some fruits.

“Slower. You might eat me too.” The older girl chuckled, brushing out her hair.

“Shut up.” Eftalia answered, her mouth half full. Aethra braided the girl’s locks into a simple crown and decorated it with golden leaves.

Once she was done eating, she moved on to her makeup, applying some shimmery powder to her eyelids and a red cream to her cheeks and lips.

“Which dress do you want?”

“The lightest.”

Aethra scoffed and headed towards the rack, picking up two, and holding them up for Efthalia to see.

“One is opaque, one is short.” She informed her, raising her eyebrows.

“Short.”

In only a few minutes, Efthalia was fully dressed and prepared to leave. She was nervous, there was no denying. Her hands were shaky, she couldn't help but play with the few loose strands framing her face and her gaze scanned every single bit of her surroundings.

“Hey, It’ll be alright.” Aethra’s soft voice reached her ears, as she placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I know. You’ll be here with me.”

The two girls smiled at each other as they made their way to the docks, where the king was waiting, along with his generals.

“Father.” “Your majesty” They both spoke at the same time, sending each other a squint.

“Aethra, my daughter.” He responded, bowing his head to them. “I would like to thank you for helping the alliance. I will be sending messengers every week to check on you, and I hope the gods will protect you wherever you may go.” He spoke softly, addressing the two girls who had already become teary-eyed.

With another nod, they turned around and walked up the bridge, entering the ship. It was large and filled with sailors, as well as guards.

A loud sound coming from a horn filled the air, and the vessel rocked before beginning to move, leaving the island behind.

“I’ll bet you twenty gold coins he’s crying.” Aethra whispered in Efthalia’s ear, earning a snort from her.

“He most definitely is.” She answered, before looking out to the sea. It was calm. Peaceful. Perhaps it was the god’s sign that they will be safe.

Each wave passed the boat, replicated by thousands around it, forming a united outlook of the endless blue. Efthalia admired the sea, for hours on end, as the sun’s reflection on them kept changing angles, and occasional sightings of fish and birds reflecting on the surface of the water.

“Hey you.”

“What is it, Efthalia.” Aethra answered the girl.

“Nothing, I’m just bored.”

The older girl snorted and turned to look at her, her muscular arms crossed over her chest.

“Oh is that so, princess. You can sit in silence for hours, and now, when we have barely a quarter of the trip left, you decide to annoy me?”

“Oh. You think this is annoying? Just wait until you s-”

“Enough!” Aethra laughed, pushing the girl’s hands away, interrupting her from whatever attempt she had to mess up her hair.

“Fine. Tell me palace gossip.”

“No.”

Efthalia puffed and grunted, pretending to flip her hair over her shoulder and slumping forward.

“Oh how merciless. You promise me scuttlebutt and then refuse me. I am truly hurt and offended.”

“Oh poor princess. What will you ever do?” She sighed, looking into the horizon. “Efthalia look!” she exclaimed, pointing to the approaching land.

The princess gasped loudly, a hand covering her mouth, as she couldn’t help but light up in excitement. “Oh my gods!”

In front of them was a large island, bigger than theirs, that was for sure. Hundreds of boats were anchored around the shore, tiny specks scattered all around the platform, waving and cheering for them.

“Oh gods. That many people were waiting for us?” Aethra squealed, not yet believing her eyes.

“Oh no. That’s a tad too much socialization for me.” The other girl complained, causing Aethra to shove her slightly.

“Right, right princess. I’m sure that you, who has to be carried away from parties forcefully, will have a lot of trouble chatting with these people.”

“Oh shut up.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

A sudden screech accompanied with the boat slowing to a stop interrupted the girls from their banter, bringing their attention to the guards, who were now speaking to them.

“Come with us, please.”

The two girls obeyed, following them down the bridge and on the platform, where they were greeted by a man and a woman; their guess- the king and queen.

“Welcome, your highness, to Lesbos. We have been awaiting your arrival.” The man said, bowing to Efthalia along with his wife.

“It is a pleasure to arrive. Your island is truly a glorious place.” She responded, earning a chuckle from the queen.

“Oh, the sunsets are miraculous. You arrived just in time to catch them. My name is Adeia, I am the queen of Lesbos, and this is my husband, Hyllus.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Efthalia, and this is my most trusted companion, Aethra.”

They continued formal chatter, everyone saluting each other, as they slowly made their way up a hill, entering a temple, which had a large table in the middle, filled with food, drinks and candles.

“Now let us dine!” The king called out, as everyone sat down.

Efthalia couldn’t help but notice that four seats across from her were empty. She wondered if that was where the troublesome monarchs her father had mentioned sat. Her question was soon answered as four people entered the room, laughing loudly and soaking wet.

“Uncle!” One of them called out, a charming smile appearing on his face. He was well built, a facial structure anyone would kill for, and dark brunette curls falling to the middle of his ears.

She saw the King sigh loudly, shaking his head and gesturing for them to come over.

“Damiano. This is Princess Efthalia, and her πιο έμπιστο φίλο (most trusted friend).” He said, gesturing over to the two girls. Damiano made his way around the table, holding Efthalia’s hand as he bowed and kissed it, repeating his actions to Aethra.

“It is my absolute pleasure making your acquaintance, ομορφιές (beauties).” He purred, winking at them both, earning a blush from Efthalia.

“Stop, you dramatic ass, it’s my turn.” A deep, feminine voice came from behind him, and Efthalia couldn’t help but look at the owner of the voice. A gorgeous, blonde girl stood before her. She was short and petite, her piercing blue eyes checking Efthalia out shamelessly.

“My name is Victoria, but you can call me yours.” She winked towards the princess, enveloping her in a hug. If it weren’t for the closeness, Victoria could have seen just how pathetically Efthalia’s knees trembled at her words. When they pulled apart, she was at a loss of words, so she sent her a shy smile.

“Well, that didn’t take long.” Aethra muttered from behind them, a cheeky expression on her face.

“I’m Thomas! It’s lovely to meet you both!” Another boy talked, this time capturing Aethra’s attention. He was tall and slim and had the puppy-est eyes she had ever encountered.

“I’m Aethra. I love the hair.” she complimented, grinning when she saw his shaven cheeks enveloped in a lovely red color.

“Thanks. I like- umm, I like yours too.” He quickly responded before going to sit down at the table, followed by the two other people.

“I must apologize for my friends, your majesties, they are not usually like this.” A tall, brunette man informed them, sending the girls a polite smile and a bow.

“Oh it’s alright. They’re cute anyways.” Aethra answered, making sure Thomas could hear what she said, and taking pride when she saw him fiddle timidly in his chair.

The man let out a short laugh before nodding and heading to the seat himself.

“Now that you’ve met the troublemakers-” The King began speaking but was interrupted by a scoff.

“I’m sorry, your highness, but I truly do not remember a single time in which we caused any form of chaos!” Vic defended herself, proudly shaking her nose.

“Last week you descended from the mountains in a barrel and knocked over the fences to a chicken coup, thus forcing every single guard in town to go around and catch them all.” The Queen deadpanned, making everyone at the table laugh.

The girl’s cheeks heated up slightly before she leaned back down and picked up her half empty glass.

“If my memory serves me right, It was Damiano’s fault.” she stated, lifting her hands to prove her innocence.

“Oh hold up a second. The moment you get blamed for something you instantly turn into a saint, but whenever you’re with us you brag about being the most troublesome??”

“Indeed. Your perception skills have improved, I see. Must have been since that time yo-”

“Don’t.” He interrupted the girl with a stern voice, leaving no space for arguments.

Efthalia couldn’t help but enjoy their playful banter. Every once in a while, her gaze fell upon Victoria’s dress- white silk, she could bet, a fine material, clinging to her body due to the water still dripping out of it.

“Hey princess, my eyes are up here. If you want to undress me that much we can meet up after dinner.” She spoke, making Aethra choke on her drink.

Efthalia, on the other hand, was ready to sink into the chair and let it engulf her alive.

“I didn’t- I me-mean I wasn’t...no, not like thAT I me-” She kept stuttering while everyone stared at her, clearly interested in what she was about to say.

“I suggest you make a decision quickly, because everyone seems to be done with dinner.” Aethra spoke up, elbowing her lightly.

“I suppose she is right. The whole town is to your disposition, but for tonight I’m sure these four little devils would like to give you a tour.” The King said, rising from his chair along with his wife, before leaving the temple, along with the other guests.

The only people left in the room were Efthalia, Aethra, Victoria, Damiano, Ethan and Thomas.

“So, where shall we start?” Damiano asked, grinning towards his friends.

Taglist:

@fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @messyhairday-me @cheese-toastie-11 @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @juststalking @superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee @shehaddreamstoo @tiaamberxx @bidet-and-legolas @makapaka11 @electra-phoebe @makeavvish @perfectlyunbiasedobservation

Lol I actually wrote this a long time ago i just forgot to add a tag list

[cherienymphe]

Protect & Serve V (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: Cop!Steve, NON-CON, mentions of violence and murder and assault

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary:  escaping an ugly past, you have no choice but to return home. While much has remained the same, Officer Rogers is a new addition who has won over the hearts of the town in your absence. And no one believes you when you start to see him for who he really is

~

When you woke up, you felt like you’d slept for days. Knowing Steve, and having no clue as to what he injected you with, that might be true. You had dry mouth, that much you could tell, and your head still felt like it weighed a ton. Peeling your eyes open was rather difficult, but when you did, you realized that you were in a different room from the one before.

You pushed yourself up to lean on your forearms, looking around and listening. The house was quiet, a far cry from the last time you were here. You guessed that all of Steve’s guests were gone, and you didn’t know if you should be relieved or not. You didn’t know why you thought their presence would protect you when it wouldn’t. They had literally helped Steve recapture you after also watching your unconscious form be carried into his house to begin with. Maybe it was better that they were gone…

Now you could start formulating another escape without them around to catch you.

A stabbing pain struck you behind your eyes, and you squinted, bringing your fingers up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You cursed Steve to hell and back. Why had he given you the option of walking back with him when he was going to do what he wanted anyway? Did he get some sick pleasure out of it all?

Speaking of pleasure, you noted the soreness in between your thighs and wondered if Steve had done a lot more to you while you were out. He’d said that it wasn’t his style, but he couldn’t be trusted. You pressed your thighs together and winced, sitting up. Just as you considered what to do next, the bedroom door opened.

You sharply inhaled as Steve filled the doorway, heart rate picking up at the sight of him. Was it crazy that you were more terrified of him than you had been of your ex-husband? At least with Killian, you had grown to know what to expect. Steve had shattered every one of your expectations.

“You’re awake,” he said, stepping further into the room.

You didn’t know what to do, so you just stared at him as he approached. For your own sake, you needed to keep your eyes on him at all times. Escape was your top priority, and you had to think smart about it. He gripped your chin, turning your head to the side to gaze at your eyes, and hummed, clearly satisfied.

“You’ve been asleep for almost an entire day,” he informed you, grabbing your arm.

He helped you out of bed, and you let him. Your body was still fighting off whatever he gave you, and you stumbled. Steve was more than happy to catch you though, arm thrown around you, hand digging into your shoulder as he leaned you into his side.

He was patient as he helped you out of the room and down the stairs. The smell of food hit you, and you sniffed, stomach grumbling. Steve heard it and chuckled.

“I made breakfast,” he said, leading you into the kitchen.

A modest dining table was on the far side, and your eyes fell to the food laid upon it. You couldn’t trust him, having no idea as to what he wanted from you, so there was no telling what was in the food. However, you couldn’t afford to not eat. Steve turned his back after helping you sit down, and you glanced through the living room to look at the lake on the other side of the window. Getting across that lake was your best chance…

Too busy staring, you didn’t notice him approach until your hands were being handcuffed to the arms of the chair. You gasped, and he did the same with your ankles. Forgetting about your injury, you jerked your legs, only to cry out at the pain that traveled through your ankle. Steve hummed at that, sitting next to you.

“You gave Bucky and Sam hell. Thor too,” he added.

You watched as he picked up some scrambled eggs on a fork before bringing it to your lips. Realizing that you didn’t have much of a choice, you reluctantly parted them. The food tasted good enough, and he fed you again.

You licked your lips.

“You sound surprised,” you whispered, eyes meeting his.

A faint smirk was on his lips, and he chuckled.

“Not surprised…impressed. I like a fighter,” he said, reaching out to grab his glass of water.

He never broke his gaze from over the rim of the glass, and you blinked.

“…but I could tell that from the first moment I met you. So reluctant to accept a ride from a nice small-town cop-.”

“There isn’t anything nice about you,” you sneered.

Steve chuckled, nodding fondly.

“I suppose you’re right about that,” he agreed. “Nevertheless, the average person doesn’t pick up on that. Of course…you would…”

You glanced away as he fed you again.

“…tell me about him,” he eventually said.

You looked back to him with a frown. You knew who he was talking about, and your heart clenched. He pressed his elbows into the wood of the table, hands clasped together as he eyed you.

“Your ex-husband,” he elaborated.

You heaved a deep sigh, frustration coloring your tone.

“Why?”

“Because I want to know,” was his simple response.

You swallowed, a shiver climbing up your spine as you thought about the other blond man in your life.

“What…what do you want to know?” you wondered with a shrug.

He reached out to brush a finger down the side of your face, running it over your bottom lip.

“Tell me why you stayed,” he quietly demanded.

Figuring there was no harm in humoring him, you answered.

“I…was afraid. I had nowhere to go and…part of me…felt like I was being punished. Like I deserved it…”

“For what?”

“For leaving my family and friends behind,” you murmured. “For ignoring them for years…”

Steve nodded at that, pulling his hand away.

“I am sorry about your family. I meant that when I told you that. They were good people,” he replied.

You blinked. Of course, he had known them. How could he not? It didn’t sit right with you that someone like him had interacted with your family…especially while you weren’t around. You wondered how he behaved towards them, if he ever made any of them feel as uncomfortable as he did with you.

“The funerals were lovely. Was he the reason you didn’t go?”

You suddenly found it hard to swallow, and tears kissed your eyes as he brought that up. He reached out to brush a rogue one away, and you jerked away from him. Missing the funerals of your family was definitely your biggest regret. Every time you thought about it, your hate for Killian grew.

You didn’t have to answer because Steve already knew.

“Bucky told me that you thought he was the one at your house every night. He said that you had feared he would find you,” he said, making you frown at the mention of the brunette.

You looked down when his hand found yours, brushing circles into the skin with his thumb.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he murmured, and your frown deepened.

You clenched your jaw, biting back what you wanted to say, and seeing the look on your face made Steve laugh. You looked up at him, gaze cold.

“I know what you must be thinking…that I won’t get away with this…”

He took another bite, leaning back in his chair as he eyed you smugly.

“…but I will. Hell, I’ve gotten away with worse,” he chuckled.

Your brow twitched, and you narrowed your eyes at him, recalling something that Wanda had said.

“Peggy?”

You watched the way his face fell, and you continued.

“Wanda said she’d just…left right after the breakup. I never thought that seemed her style…”

Your tone was accusatory, and apparently with good reason. Steve slowly exhaled, straightening up as he rubbed his hand over his chin, elbow pressed into the table as his eyes gazed at something you couldn’t see.

“Peggy…was an accident,” he admitted, and genuine remorse registered on his features.

Remorseful or not, your eyes still widened as he confirmed what you had initially suspected but brushed off, convinced that your paranoia was getting the best of you. Now, you knew the truth. You weren’t just sitting with a kidnapper, but you were sitting with a murderer too.

“You see, I started having my fun before I came here. I’d help out unsuspecting girls in need. Sometimes they were homeless…sometimes they just needed a ride home…to the store…”

Horror filled you as he spoke, and you started to realize that you weren’t dealing with an amateur.

“They’d get in, and I’d offer them a bottle of water I kept inside.”

Of course, they would. Steve Rogers looked like the poster boy for good Samaritans everywhere. Those soft blue eyes could convince anyone. Said eyes met yours, serious.

“They’d always accept. Either out of genuine thirst or just to avoid being rude, I don’t know. I didn’t care. They’d be knocked out within minutes…”

You felt like you were going to be sick.

“…when I was done, I’d park at wherever they had wanted me to take them to. They’d eventually arouse, and I’d convince them that they had nodded off. None of them ever suspected, and if they did, what could they say?”

He rose an eyebrow.

“The friendly neighborhood cop, Officer Rogers, drugged and raped me?”

He scoffed, and you blinked away tears.

“…and Peggy?” you forced out.

Steve sighed.

“I got tired of the coldness and casualness of it all,” he said with a shrug. “I realized that I wasn’t getting any younger, and Peggy… She was so sweet.”

He sadly shook his head.

“Like every other woman in this town, she was itching at the chance to have me. But unlike the rest, she wasn’t bold about it. She was coy, and I liked that. It wasn’t long before I had her in the palm of my hands,” he chuckled at that. “Literally.”

Disgust churned in your stomach.

“She was everything I thought she’d be. Except…she wasn’t.”

When he looked at you again, his eyes were hard, face taut with tension as he recalled whatever memory you hadn’t been privy to.

“Peggy had plans,” he dragged out, voice low as he took another sip. “She wanted to achieve all of these great things…see the world…leave me.”

He huffed.

“We fought. Things got…physical, and the next thing I know, my hands are around her neck.”

You swallowed, tears spilling over now.

“Jesus,” he quietly scoffed. “I didn’t even realize until I let her go and she just…dropped.”

More tears fell, and he finally took notice. He reached over to wipe them, and you flinched.

“That’s right,” he hummed. “You grew up with her.”

He moved to feed you some more, but you shook your head, appetite lost. He let the fork drop before leaning back in his seat. He turned to look though the living room, eyes roaming over the lake through the window.

“She’s in that lake, you know. I think about her every time I look out onto it,” he quietly said, more to himself than you.

You sniffed, throat tight and chest burning. Fear gripped you, and you wondered if that was going to be your fate. Steve suddenly moved his chair closer to you, and you cried harder. He shushed you, reaching for you to wipe your face with his thumbs.

“That won’t be you. I promise,” he said as if reading your mind, hands resting on the sides of your face.

You shook your head.

“Why me?” you quietly asked him, no longer able to keep it in.

You had to know.

“I could see how broken you were,” he hummed, eyes roaming over your face. “…and I thought that I could fix you. That maybe we could fix each other, hmm? I give you the safety and security and love you’ve been craving for years, and you give me what I want.”

You frantically blinked, eyes searching his face.

“I could see that you wanted me too. Deep down, anyway. After all, I was a good guy. I’m sure Wanda told you something like that, didn’t she? That I would be good for you…and you had thought about it, considered it. I could see it in your eyes that night,” he continued. “Wondering what it would be like to be with a genuinely good guy…”

“I wasn’t ready,” you mumbled.

He took a deep breath.

“I know, but unfortunately for you… I don’t have much patience. At least not when it comes to something I know I want.”

“What…what do you want from me?” you finally wondered.

He let out a breath, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip as he stood, towering over you.

“I want you to look at me with complete adoration as I come inside of you. I want to come inside of you every night, calling you wife while I fill you with my children. I want to make love to you when you’re glowing and round with my child, but…right now…”

He reached for your plate again, bringing some more eggs to your lips.

“I want you to finish your food.”

Too stunned by his admission, you allowed him to feed you, fear gripping your heart at what would happen if you didn’t escape.

When you weren’t locked away in the room, and when you weren’t handcuffed at the table, Steve pretty much allowed you free reign. He was at your side at all times, of course, closely hovering. You figured it was best to seem cooperative. Of course, you didn’t think Steve was gullible enough to believe that you had accepted your situation. You both knew that you were just biding your time. It was only a matter of thinking of a way to escape before he thought of a way to stop you before you even tried.

You feared what he would do to keep you here…feared what he would do if he caught you trying to leave. You thought of Peggy, of how she had simply brought up the idea of leaving and had died for it. Steve’s desires weighed on your mind, and you knew that you only had so much time before he started to go through with them.

That second morning, you had woken up to the feel of a hard chest pressed against your back, a thick arm curling over your waist. It had taken you a moment to understand that the second room you had woken up in was his room. You had jerked in his grip, attempting to get away from him, but your movements had aroused him…in more ways than one.

His hold tightened, pulling you closer, and he groaned as sleep began to leave him. You could feel him poking against you, hard and hot, and you had panicked. You fought to get away from him, and he swiftly pushed you to lie on your back, settling in between your legs. Your hands, having attempted to push him away, were pinned between your bodies as he kissed you.

You gasped against his mouth, and his tongue slipped past your lips, tasting the inside of your mouth. His arms were pressed down on either side of you, caging you in, and you felt like you were suffocating. Steve paid no mind to your aversion, moaning against your trembling lips. One of his hands reached down to wrap around your wrists, dragging them above you until they were pinned just below the headboard.

His other hand slid down your side, kneading your skin as it descended. He ground himself against you, his hardened member poking at you through his shorts. You only had on a nightgown that he’d left outside of the shower the night before. You had briefly wondered if it belonged to Peggy. This very thing was a pressing concern of yours when you noticed the absence of underwear.

His free hand moved to make a home in between your legs, fingers brushing against and poking at you. You bit his tongue, hard, and you tasted blood. He ripped his face away from you with a hiss, and your satisfaction was short lived when he shoved two fingers inside of you to the hilt.

Your chest arched, a choked sound escaping your lips as he roughly fingered you. You turned your head away when he leaned back down, and his lips met your cheek.

“Do that again,” he whispered, lips moving against your skin. “…and I’ll make you pay for it.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his fingers glide within you more easily now. He hummed, mouth trailing down to your neck, sucking on the skin. You squirmed beneath him, trying to fight off the pleasure that was being forced on you. Your legs kicked around him, and he widened his, pushing his knees underneath your thighs to restrict your movement.

You pushed your wrists against his hands as he added a third finger, stretching you out. A moan threatened to bubble out of your throat, but you swallowed it down, whimpering instead. Steve wasn’t pleased with that. He continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, thumb coming up to brush against your swollen bud, and you whimpered again.

His hands tightened around your wrists as he sped up, almost painfully so, and he grinded against you. His lips attached themselves to your neck, pulling the skin in between his teeth, laving his tongue over you. He curled his fingers, and a broken moan finally slipped from your lips. He did it again and was met with the same result.

You turned your face as much into the pillow as you possible could, but Steve’s lips sought out your own, covering them in another kiss. He swallowed your moans, groaning into your mouth as your hips bucked against his hand. The hand that was holding your wrists down moved to intertwine with one of yours. You quickly pushed your free hand against his stomach, and when that didn’t work, you wrapped your hand around his wrist.

Your efforts were useless, Steve effortlessly working his fingers into you again and again.

“Stop,” you finally begged against his lips.

“Come for me, and I will,” he roughly replied.

He flicked his thumb over your bundle of nerves again, and you fell apart beneath him. He pulled back ever so slightly, your moans permeating through the air as he looked down at you. A few of his blond strands tickled your own forehead, and his nose kept brushing against yours as he worked you through your climax.

He looked down, eyes focused on the way you clenched around his fingers, hand a mess. Your chest heaved, breath shaky as he tightened his hold on your hand. You’d just woken up, but you felt tired all over again. He finally pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and humming.

“Good girl,” he murmured as he kissed the corner of your mouth.

He rolled off of you, and you caught sight of the large tent in his shorts. You looked away, hurriedly pulling your nightgown back down, disgust coursing through you. You didn’t move as he strode into the bathroom and turned the shower on. You only did so when low moans reached you minutes later, and you moved to exit the room, but it was locked. You noticed what looked like a key pad on the wall next to the light switch. You hadn’t noticed it the day before.

Realizing that you’d have to sit here and listen to him get himself off, you sat back down, covering your ears. You were still in that position when he finally exited, a towel loosely hanging on his lips. You watched as he walked into the closet and came back out with clothes that were clearly meant for you. Again, you wondered if these belonged to Peggy. He ushered you into the bathroom before you could give it any more thought.

Your time in the bathroom was quick. Your quick search of the cabinets turned up nothing useful for you. No type of medication or sedatives or anything. You would have loved nothing more to spend all day in the bathroom, but you didn’t want to give Steve the opportunity to check on you and see you naked. The clothes fit perfectly, and it was then that you decided they weren’t Peggy’s.

The idea that Steve found clothes that were perfectly in your size made your stomach churn.

He was waiting for you when you got out, and he reached for you as soon as you were near. One hand went to the back of your neck, holding you beside him while the other went to what you thought was the keypad. You watched in awe as he pressed his thumb against it, and the pad flashed green just before he reached to open the door.

“Buck and Sam are coming by later,” he told as he guided you down the stairs. “I don’t think I need to remind you not to do anything stupid, do I?”

You shook your head.

“Anyway, just in case…”

He stopped before the door of the basement. Apprehension filled you as he opened it and guided you in, his chest brushing your back as you walked. You walked down some stairs, stopping at another door. This one was sturdier and had a bar that fell across it. You watched as Steve lifted the bar and pushed you in.

You stumbled, tripping over your feet before straightening yourself. You could feel Steve behind you as you looked around, and your heart dropped. It was a room, furnished with a single bed, a toilet, and a sink. You swallowed in fear, taking a step back, recoiling when you bumped into him.

Steve wrapped his arm around you, lips at your ear.

“I don’t want to have to put you in here, but I will if you force me to. Is that understood?”

You gave him a shaky nod. His hand closed around your throat, and you gasped, reaching up to grab his arm as he lifted you, your toes grazing the floor.

“I want to hear you say it,” he whispered.

“I understand,” you shakily replied, and satisfied, he let you go.

He spun you around, one hand on your jaw as he tilted your head, lips brushing your cheek and then your ear.

“Be good for me…and I’ll be good to you,” he quietly told you.

He didn’t wait for a response before guiding you up the stairs. You reached the hallway again just as a knock sounded on the front door. He pulled you along, keeping you at his side as he went to answer it.

Sam and Bucky had grins on their faces and greetings on their lips when Steve opened the door. However, Bucky’s face fell when his eyes met yours. You took in the red marks on the side of his face, and you couldn’t keep the smug expression off of yours even if you tried. He let them in, hand sliding around your waist as he closed the door.

You flinched, and he tightened his arm around you. Bucky looked over his shoulder at you, lips curled into a cruel smirk.

“Like the new look?” he wondered, gesturing to his face.

You simply looked at him, and both Sam and Steve chuckled.

“Maybe if you weren’t slacking…” Sam’s words trailed off as they entered the kitchen, but Steve pushed you towards the living room.

He pressed his lips to your forehead before pushing you down onto the couch. You swallowed, watching as he joined Sam and Bucky in the kitchen. Sam’s eyes were on you, and he turned to Steve.

“She’s quiet,” you heard him say.

“No. She’s not quiet,” Steve replied, calculating eyes meeting yours before he ran them over you.

He smirked.

“She’s smart,” he argued.

He looked away, and so did you, eyes looking through the backdoor to roam over the lake. If only you could get to the lake. When the time was right…

Sam and Bucky didn’t stay for long. Steve had waved them goodbye with one arm securely around your waist. You watched them get back into the car, the police cruiser, and your stomach churned, still in disbelief that the supposed good guys were nothing but scum.

You wanted to know how they could be okay with what Steve was doing. You wanted to know how they justified it, and unable to keep it in, you asked him. He didn’t respond right away, instead heaving a sigh as he pressed one hand into the wall beside your head, caging you in.

“After Peggy, I went back to my…casual encounters…”

You frowned at how he worded it, and he chuckled at that.

“…not often like I did before, but just enough to satisfy me… They caught me one day…”

He smiled as if he were thinking back on a fond memory, and you were almost sorry you’d asked.

“They wanted in on it too.”

Your eyes widened as they met his gaze, and your lips parted as you registered what he was saying. He reached up to brush his thumb over your trembling lips, his own parting.

“Eventually Thor got roped in too. His brother Loki prefers to sit out on the festivities, but he doesn’t mind. I don’t think you’ve been properly introduced to them,” he added. “Loki is a lawyer, and Thor is a cop in the next county over. They come over from time to time. Usually for a game.”

Now you were positive that you were going to be sick, and Steve continued.

“Thor wasn’t exactly the most inconspicuous about it when he’s here…and the boss caught on one day. We’re the best cops in town though. We keep these people safe and crime is practically nonexistent, so… So long as we’re discreet, he looks the other way,” he told you.

You turned away from him, tears in your eyes. He pressed his lips to your cheek, inhaling.

“Do you see, now? You have no one to run to. No one will help you,” he whispered darkly, hand landing on your shoulder, digging in, the other trailing to cup your ass. “We run this town…”

He pressed a leg in between yours, and you pushed against him, but he was faster. He grabbed your wrists, slamming them against the wall as he forced his mouth on yours. You kicked at his legs, but it was hard to do when one of his separated yours.

He pulled you away from the wall, lips never parting from yours as he turned and forced you back. You stumbled and tripped over your feet, trying to put as much distance between you two as possible. When that didn’t work, you brought your knee up, and Steve pulled back with a grunt.

Slipping out of his arms, you ran towards the backdoor, but his hands in your hair stopped you. You screamed as your scalp protested his tight hold, and he yanked you back into his chest, one hand closing around your throat. His chest heaved against your back, harsh breaths in your ear.

“Remember what I said,” he whispered, deep voice threatening. “Be good for me…and I’ll be good to you…”

You hadn’t realized you were crying until he walked you forward towards the couch. Your face crumbled as he pushed you down, one hand sliding up the thin dress he’d given you to wear. His hand grazed your bare slit, and you cried harder.

As awful as Killian had been, he’d never forced himself on you. It was crazy to think that in all the years you’d experienced violence at his hand, none of it had ever been sexual. That was a line that he had never crossed.

Steve flipped you, and you immediately fought against him as he ripped at your dress. He caught your wrists, holding them away as he dipped down to wrap his lips around one breast, bud hardened from the cool air in the house. He moved his head to give the other the same attention, and you cried out, pushing against him.

He suddenly jerked your wrist, and you cried out, pain traveling down your arm. He looked up at you, eyes cold as both desire and anger warred within them.

“I will break both of them,” he harshly said, making you freeze.

You couldn’t swim across the lake with a broken wrist, let alone two. He let you go, hands hovering over your own for a while to make sure you would behave. Pleased, he swiftly undressed, and you looked away from him, eyes on the ceiling. He tsk’d, reaching for your chin to turn your head.

“Eyes on me,” he ordered.

Too afraid to defy him, you watched as he grabbed your ankles, spreading and lifting your legs as he moved closer. He was hard and throbbing, bigger than Killian was, and you shook beneath him. There was no warning, no teasing… Steve slid into you with one thrust.

Having been wholly unprepared, you yelped in pain, head falling back on the arm of the couch. He rested your legs on his shoulders, leaning over you as he forced your knees to your shoulders. All of your movement was restricted, and the only thing you could do was press your hands into his waist. A few tears escaped your eyes, and Steve kissed them away.

His breath was shaky, blond hair hanging into his forehead as he savored the feel of you wrapped around him. He rested his forearms on the arm of the couch, caging you in, and you felt incredibly hot being surrounded by him. His lips brushed the corner of your mouth before moving them down to your jaw, nipping at the skin there.

He slowly pulled his hips back until nothing but the tip of him remained inside of you. He was slow to thrust too, and you squirmed, nails digging into his waist. The position you were in didn’t allow for you to do anything other than lay there and take it. Steve gradually began to pick up his pace, and the couch trembled from the force of his thrusts.

You wanted to close your eyes so badly, but you were afraid of what he’d do if you did. His lips never stayed in one place, kissing every part of your face that they could. Occasionally, his hand would brush over your cheek or shoulder. Sometimes he’d reach down and flick his fingers over you. Unable to do anything, you had no choice but to accept the pleasure he was forcing on you.

His skin slapped against yours in the quiet house, and you whimpered as he rested his forehead against yours, blue eyes boring into your own. As quiet as you tried to be, he could see the pleasure on your face, and the corner of his lips curved upwards. He kissed you, slow and soft, and you hated it. His lips didn’t part from yours as his thrusts grew erratic and choppy.

Too many things were happening at once, it was too intense for you, and you turned your head. Steve snarled at that and fisted his hand in your hair, yanking your head towards him again. He kissed you harder this time, slamming into you as he did so. Tears streamed down your face as you felt your stomach tightening, toes curling while you clenched around him.

“That’s it,” he murmured into your mouth. “Come for me…”

You pressed your nails harder into his skin, trying to fight it off, but it was no use. Steve didn’t relent in his movements, and soon, you were coming around him. Your climax struck you like a punch, stomach aching as it tightened, core fluttering around Steve’s unyielding cock. You slapped your hands against him as he fucked you through it, tears in your eyes again.

“Be good for me,” he reminded you, and you shook your head.

You reached in between you to press your hands to his stomach, turning your head away. Steve’s breathing was harsh above you, chest heaving as he thrust into your soaking core.

“Steve,” you begged, pushing against him.

“You’ve got another in you, I know you do.”

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before he threw you head first into another, and your mind spun as a choked moan slipped out of your mouth. You couldn’t swallow it down even if you tried, and Steve groaned. One of your hands was on his chest, the other on his shoulder, but he wouldn’t budge. Your legs trembled, and you involuntarily closed them as you tried to stem the oversensitivity, inadvertently locking them around his neck.

“Steve... Steve, please,” you begged, out of breath.

His lips found yours again, and he growled into your mouth.

“One more,” he whispered. “Give me one more.”

You tried to duck your head, but he followed, lips brushing the corner of your mouth.

“Give me one more…”

Stars appeared behind your eyes as you came for a third time, choking his cock. Steve let out a low moan as you gripped him, the sound drawing out into a groan. You could feel the mess you were making, but Steve didn’t mind as he pressed kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your neck…

“Look how good you are for me. Such a good girl for me,” he mumbled, spilling into you.

You shuddered at the feel, and Steve fucked his cum into you, hissing. He sat up to move your legs off of him, and relief filled you as they fell limply around him. He pressed his chest against yours again, hands cupped underneath your thighs as he lazily moved within you.

“See how good I can make you feel…” he said, lips grazing yours. “…when you’re good for me.”

~

tags:  @xoxabs88xox  @darkficreposter   @mcudarklibrary @captainchrisstan @nickyl316h @buckybarnesplumwhore @harryspet @readermia @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @opheliadawnwalker3 @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21  @stargazingfangirl18   @lou-la-lou @izzfizzh @thatgirly81 @autty0314 @hinata7346 @lokislastlove @honorarytenenbaum @void-hoechlin  @autty0314​ 

[artxyra]

The Secret Life of MDC | Part 6

Part 6: Just let them fall

Part 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

Note: If you had read the original version on my website, I totally did not rewrite this entire part just to avoid a fight scene. 

The mission was simple: save the two idiot exchange students that don’t have any common sense. It was a frustrating task to even track them down. Base on the footage from security cameras and likely villains who are crazy enough to start drama, it is very likely that the dumb and dumber are safe but being hold over a pot of acid, fire, or water will killer animals. Who knows?

“You know, they just have given us an excuse to bring the Gotham miraculous crew back into action,” Andrena says as her bee-like wings flutter to life. Her eyes narrowly focus on anything strange.

To Gotham, Andrena is equivalent to Paris’ Melitta Bee (Chloe’s new alias once she was inducted back onto the team). Every member of Paris’ MT has a Gotham counterpart. For Ladybug it was Ladybird, for Chat Noir it was Lykoi. Then for the two missing members Viperion and Ryoku, there was Python and Naga. The only difference two their styles are more realistic and less magical.

“There is no time for play, Bee.” Ladybird walks out from the shadows, the current boy wonder walking behind her. She crosses her arms and lets out a heavy sigh. “As long as we are active in the fight any damage the two may endure could be undone. You know how I hate to bring out the team.” Everyone could see the tiredness behind the red and black mask that lies in her bluebell eyes.

“Tt. They deserve whatever comes their way.” Robin scoffs. From the corner of his eyes, he could see his siblings joining them on the roof. “What did you find?” This question wasn’t pointed to anyone directly, but they all knew there was one person with the answers.

“Red Robin—” Lykoi lowkey hums ‘Yum’ much to everyone dismay “—has appointed Oracle as our eyes, and together that have determined that the two missing students are located in one of five potential areas.”

“That does not help our case, Wing.” Nightwing would never admit it but a glaring Ladybird is a dangerous Ladybird.

Silence followed as everyone thinks of something.

 “Do we have to save them? They just made this worse on everybody.” It was Lykoi’s voice that surprisingly states this. Everyone turns to the cat theme hero with wide eyes. “What?”

“Normally under typical Paris standards, I would say no, but do to the fact that we are in Gotham and my job is on the line, I am legally obligated to say yes.” Ladybird pulls out her communicator and turns it on. “Everyone’s logged on.” A series of nods, groans, and yeses. “Good RR, what’s the plan?”

“Yes, but you’re not going to like it,” Red Robin could hear the impending groaning coming his way and he is not wide awake enough for this.

Which lead the Miraculous Team and the Bats to be split across Gotham searching for the two exchange students.

Ladybird and Robin’s location was empty. Nothing unusual about the location it was just an unused warehouse.

“I hate them.”

“Them being everyone or the two the idiots.”

“What do you think?”

Robin shakes his head and lets out a hefty sigh.

Lykoi and Nightwing’s location proved to be difficult to find. At first, that thought this was the place, but both heroes vigilantes were proven wrong.

“We both agree not to tell Ladybird.”

“Agree, she would kill us.”

“I heard that.” It wasn’t Ladybird’s voice that came through the comms. It was Oracle’s. “Don’t worry I won’t tell Birdie.”

Lykoi and Nightwing share a glance. It was better to be blackmailed by Oracle than be grilled by Ladybird—well that what they think anyway.

For Andrena and Red Robin, it was more of a battle of wits and smarts between the two. Actually, more on Red Robin than with Andrena (she didn’t want to be a partner with Red Hood).

“You better hope that one of the others found this fucking warehouse or I will kill you myself. These boots were expensive.” Andrena shrieks pointing to the mud that now lays pack on her boots.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll make it up to you.” 

Andrena rolls her eyes and opens her communicator, Red Robin does the same. However, the outcome was different for the two. On Red Robin’s feed, it was static, he quickly goes into work to scramble the information given. Andrena sees a message from Red Hood.  It reads, “Found it, suckers!”

“Hood found the warehouse.” Andrena places her communicator back on her person and looks to Red Robin. She could see the invisible sweat and sleep on his face through the cowl. “Let’s go.”

RR lets out a frustrating sigh, but as he types a last-minute code into his device the static slowly turns into quality footage. Not high quality but enough pinpoint what is happening. The room is dark but there is an ominous green glow at the lower half of the screen.

“Shit,” RR murmurs through it was loud enough to catch Andrena’s attention as an electric blue glow begins to grow behind her.

“What?” It was breathless yet concerning. Behind her, the portal fully develops causing her to let out a low growl and pushing RR in the direction of their “ride”. “Just explain it to the others.”

The portal closes and the first person they are meet by is a somewhat disappointing Ladybird.

“Hey Buggy,” Andrena sheepishly smiles, better throw RR under the bus, “RR found something interesting. Check it out.”

Ladybird makes her way over to the bee and the third Robin, she eyes RR practically asking him the question, “what he found”. Everyone waits with bated breaths as he shows her the footage. This time unlike the awkward murky background, it shows Lila and Alya tied together on a mini platform that is slowly lowering to the ominous glow below them.

“Is it sad that I want to see them fall.” The ladybug theme hero sighs into her glove-cover hands. “Alright, we need a game plan. Hood, what did you find?”

“There is a tunnel beneath the building. There’s no exterior access.”

“Oracle is sending us a blueprint.” Red Robin adds to which Nightwing nods and checks in his own portable monitor. Robin tsks and crouches down on the ground.

The planning process to a good minute to formulate.

“Is everyone in position?” The question ran through everyone’s coms as their trained bodies wait patiently for the cue. The Questioner (most likely Ladybird or Nightwing) took their silence as an answer. “Let’s go.”

The vigilantes are immediately greeted by darkness.

“Argh, my hair!” All movement ceased to exist. The Miraculous Team automatically knew that screech. It was Lila’s. “Please, I promise Bruce Wayne will make your life worthwhile. I’m very good friends with him.” Everyone, aside from Robin, felt a shiver go down their spines. Robin had gagged at the thought of Lila, his girlfriend’s tormentor, being friends with his father.

“Are you sure we can’t kill her?” Red Hood asks, well more like stated but everyone knows what he meant. He didn’t receive an answer.

“Better yet, who’s the person that decided to capture the two. There are only two heat signatures in the building.” Tim fiercely types against his device.

Nightwing kicks down the door. The large thud grabs the two teens' attention.

“We’re saved.” Lila cries out in delight. Her face literally brightens much to everyone (aside from Alya’s) dismay.

“Yes, I can finally get that interview just like you said, gurl.” Alya squeals her body wiggling on the platform.

Robin staggers in his footsteps. Interview? Like you said? Something isn’t adding up.

“Are you girls okay?” Nightwing typically heroic voice shines through as Red Robin rushes to what he believes to be the controls for the platform.

“No! We’re tied together, slowly moving to our deaths.” Alya shouts, “Ladybug?”

“Uh... no, I’m Ladybird. Now hold still.” Balancing herself on the platform in front of the two, she pulls out a knife and quickly goes cuts to the first layers of rope. “We’re the villain?”

“He was getting something to surprise us.” Lila’s voice squeaks a little. Everyone pulls back to face Lila, not including Alya.

“What do you mean?” Robin fakes a cough and glares at the Italian girl.

“No, no,” Lila begins to sweat. Her mind running multiple scenarios to get out of this. “We have no idea where he went. It was pitch black for us.” Tears forms in her eyes. Alya tries to comfort her bestie but couldn’t due to their bindings.

“Red Hood, stay on high alert, Lykoi, Andrena, follow his lead.” Ladybird cuts through the final rope. Alya shuffles her feet to get away…

“Ah!” The reporter’s foot slips.

“Merde,” Ladybird deadpans and lets herself fall.

Her right arm wrap around Alya’s waist as her left grabs for the yo-yo. It was a split second; her feet did touch the unknown substance in the large pool. She was expecting a burning sensation, but nothing happens.

“What the hell, RR, get off the control and test out the substance.” Ladybird safely places Alya down on the concrete flooring. Nightwing and Robin run over to the two for different reasons. Robin pulls Ladybird into his arms and checks for any injury while Nightwing does the same for Alya. The ombre haired girl is visibly shaking.

Lila remains on the platform above the pool screeching her head off. Andrena could already sense a headache forming and flies up to the platform. “Venom!”

Lila freezes, her screaming ceases to exist.

Rather than pushing Lila off the platform (the temptation was very luring), Andrena wraps an arm around the liar and flies to the ground floor. Suppressing a shiver, she pushes the girl out of her arms and into Lykoi’s much to his dismay.

“Seriously?” Lykoi’s glare said it all.

“I have informed Oracle that we found the missing students. She informed me that the GPD eta is ten minutes.”

“Good, that will give us time to search the premises for anything odd.” Nightwing states.

“Way ahead of you,” Red Hood shouts from afar. Eyes rolls but they all shrug in the end.

“What do you mean there weren’t any prints or such leading to the student’s kidnapper?” Commissioner Gordon asks, well he yelled but his face isn’t red yet, as the faces the Bats (aside from the large bat himself) and the Miraculous Team.

“What he meant to say, was that nothing in this warehouse suggested that there was third person let alone a typical Gotham’s villain.”

“So, you're saying this was an act?”

“No, I don’t think all of it was an act?”

“Hmm… This isn’t going to go well with explaining this to GA’s headmistress.”

Ladybird might as well say goodbye to her life and curl next to Robin in her final moments. If this was just a fake, Lila and anyone who was involved with this plan of hers are in for a treat and she’ll have front row access to it.

“Just make sure that girls are returned to GA safely, Gordon,” Nightwing instructs, they knew what he was going for. It was to them out of her and on patrol—well some of them at the very least.

~*~

Marinette curls into Damian’s chest, looking at the screen in front of them. After a night like that she didn’t want to think about the consequences that the liar had unleashed.

“You okay?” Damian presses his lips against her forehead, their hands intertwine fighting for dominance.

Marinette doesn’t say anything. How could she? There was so much floating around her mind that she couldn’t place what she was feeling at the moment.

They stay in silence until a loud thud disrupts the environment.

“Bad news,” Dick and the rest of the family file in. “Rossi confessed to the kidnapping being a ploy.”

“Goddammit, there went my morning and quite possibly my entire week.” Marinette groans collapsing next to Damian and covering her face with her hand.

“Well it’s not liked your exchange program can get any worse. You have like three weeks left of it anyway.” Jason shrugs trying to make the mood lighter… it didn’t help.

“Not now, Jaybird,” Marinette growls, causing the hairs on the back of everyone’s neck to raise high. It was rare to see Marinette angry and Lila has done the impossible. Kwami may help in the morning, especially when Marinette doesn’t get her coffee.

~*~

Mari Needs Coffee @MarinetteMemes Is it too late to push someone off the roof of WE?  🤔 #shemesswiththewrongsgirl #ineedcoffee

Tag List

 *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

THE SPECIFIC TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Permanent Tag List: @vixen-uchiha | @i-is-mysterious | @kuroko26 | @maribat-is-lifeblood | @marinettepotterandplagg | @loveswifi | @ladybug-182 | @novaloptr | @elijahcrevan | @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @rebecarojas07 | @nanakeid | @mystery-5-5 | @sparkle9510 | @aestheticnpoetic | @toodaloo-kangaroo | @more-or-less-human-i-guess | @crazylittlemunchkin | @softlysobbingpostendgame | @purplesundaze | @fantasyloversblog | @susiej1118 | @chocolateherringtacofan | @tog84 | @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss | @slytherinhquinn | @i-wanna-be-a-ninja | @abrx2002 | @agumon1123 | @coralloverwinnerwolf | @sam-i-am-0222 | @princessanimeangel11 | @k-poplunardreams | @constancetruggle | @esperiali | @starlightshield | @itspiper25 | @bluesimani | @fandom-trapped-03 | @kawaiigiantjudgefish | @pawsitivelymiraculous |  @kadmeread | @our-preciousss | @greenloverforever05 | @animegirlweeb | @souleateralicestein | @corabeth11

Unspecific Tag List: @g-arya | @jardimazul | @jeminiikrystal | @zalladane | @bluerosette23 | @dast218 | @midnighttreesgaming | @myazael | @pepelachanel | @storyecho | @thezestywalru | @dreamykitty25

Specifc Tag List:  @virgil-is-a-cutie | @thejustmesimplyme | @mewwitch | @tamoni112 | @goggles-mcgee | @bb-basbusa | @mochinek0 | @schrodingers25 | @jessigurl-design | @shamefullove | @mindfulmagics | @scribblinggraveyard | @clumsy-owl-4178 | @captainmac6 | @vivilakitty | @sonif50  | @emjrabbitwolf | @northernbluetongue | @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl | | @zebrabaker  | @readinganawfullot | @thebananathatwrites | @urbanpineapplefarmer | @hypnosharkrebeldreamer | @zerotosiki | @poshplumcot | @luciferge | @mariae2900 | @minightrose | @theatreandcomicfreak | @thequestionablyhuman | @thepeacetea | @never-neverland | @sassydepression | @multishipper1needshalp | @actual-disaster-human | @queencommonsense | @novicevoice | @vgirl-10123 | @lunar-wolf-warrior | @dahjokester | @ur-average-reader |  @gimme-more-caffeine | @reaperfeels | @interobanginyourmom | @elspethshadow | @my-name-is-michell | @redscarlet95 | @razzledazzle247 | @casual-darkness | @romanoff-queen | @7-sage-7 | @lily-codie19 | @two-faced-biatch | @spicybelladonna |  @heaven428 | @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry | @slytherinsheashire | @zazzlejazzle | @moonlitarchangels | @naclychilli | @dur55 | @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff | @scrumptiouslyelegantchaosqueen | @ravennightingaleandavatempus | @eliza-bich | @saltycolordonkeyclod | @thestressmademedoit | @queen-in-a-flower-crown | @elmokingkong | @wolf-for-life | @hoodiewitaboggie| @tellmeicantdothis | @frieddonutsweets | @k-poplunardreams | @moonlightstar64 | @sam-spectra | @bigpicklebananatree | @how-to-fuction-properly | @spookiist | @fidget-eep | @loysydark | @books-and-left-behind-journals | @paradoxal-occurance | @fantasiame | @swiftie-miraculer13 | @silvergold-swirl​

[tk-writer]

One Bed. [Haikyuu!! - Kagehina]

Kageyama and Hinata realize that they have to share a bed during training camp one weekend.

Word count: 2779

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“WHAAAAAAAA?!”

Hinata and Kageyama cried out in unison the moment they opened the door to their overnight room. Their outburst attracted the attention of their team captain, along with Karasuno’s third year setter.

“What are you two hollering about?” Daichi implored as he passed by, Sugawara following closely at his side. “Is something wrong?” 

In truth, nothing was particularly off about their assigned sleeping quarters, except for...

“THERE’S ONLY ONE BED!” The two underclassmen shouted in a chaotic harmonization, pointing their fingers in disbelief at the setup before them.

The third years looked at one another before looking back at their juniors in shared confusion.

“What’s the big deal? Sugawara and I only have one bed in our rooms, too.”

“Wait, what?!” The color drained from Hinata’s face hearing Daichi say something like that so matter-of-factly. He looked over at his now-roommate and saw him donning his typical frown. The aspiring ace paused for a moment, lost in thought as he imagined his team captain and the third year setter snuggling up together as if it were a normal, everyday thing. He wondered if Kageyama and him would end up doing the same...

He felt his cheeks grow warm, but shook it off before anyone else could notice.

“It happens every once in a while,” Sugawara said with a sheepish chuckle as he scratched the back of his head. “Sometimes the training venue is short on rooms, so some of us have to cozy up with someone else. If it’s an issue then one of you can just sleep on the floor.”

“But… but…” Kageyama started to protest, his own mouth agape with shock, but was shut down promptly by his superior.

“It’s only for the weekend,” Daichi cut him off, his displeasure increasing as the conversation went on. “If you can’t manage this, I don’t know how you’ll be able to work together when the tournaments begin. Maybe we made a mistake letting you first years on the team. You said you could work together, so prove it.”

His guilt trip was the final nail in the coffin. Hearing him suggest he regretted his decision, even if it was just a threat, felt like a spear to the heart for both of them. The two boys sighed in resignation as their next complaints faded away into nothing. Daichi and Sugawara walked away, looking over their shoulders 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sugawara whispered when they were out of sight. “They’re still getting used to one another. I’m worried they’ll argue themselves to death before our first practice game. Maybe I could switch with one of them?”

“They formulated their fast attack together. I think they can handle sharing a room for two nights,” Daichi replied. Although he spoke with confidence, deep down he was still a bit concerned for his younger classmates. 

He silently prayed for them to make it through the first night without killing each other.

~~~~

The sound of rapid, heavy stomps reverberated down the hallway in the late evening, starting from the bathroom and moving past the shared dorms, sending fear through the hearts of the resting Karasuno players.

Nishinoya peeked his head out from behind a door to see what was the cause of the ruckus and almost lost his nose when two determined athletes rushed past him. He watched as they continued blazing their trail, still feeling the afterwind from their movement all the way down the hall. Tanaka opened his own door and barely caught a flash of black and orange hair disappearing around the corner.

“What the hell are they doing?” the bald student asked the libero. 

Nishinoya shrugged, just as oblivious to their shenanigans as he was.

In the meantime, Kageyama and Hinata were neck and neck as they raced to their shared room, the latter with a small lead due to his superhuman agility. Their focus was on one thing and one thing only, and neither dared to break their concentration with stakes as high as these. When they reached the door, they pushed and shoved one another until they nudged themselves in the door frame, neither of them able to move an inch.

“I wanna sleep in the bed tonight!” Hinata whined as he tried pushing off Kageyama’s hand, which was pressed into his left cheek.

“Hell no! I called it first!” Kageyama yelled back, grunting after Hinata stepped on his foot.

“Well, I’m older than you, so I have superiority!”

“Well, I’m taller! I need the space!”

Their bickering grew in volume, echoing off the walls and down the quiet hallway until their scuffle was interrupted by a loud, booming voice that shook them to their cores.

“ENOOOOOUGH! Stop arguing and go to sleep already!”

The captain glowered at them from around the corner, putting a stop to the fighting at once. The two younger boys froze up before slapping their hands at their sides and bowing meekly.

“Yes, Daichi-senpai!!”

And that was the end of that. Daichi disappeared once more, and the duo glanced at each other before turning their attention back to the full sized bed. Somehow, it seemed like it was waiting for them.

“Well… maybe we could both… squeeze onto it?” Hinata suggested in a meek, quiet voice. Kageyama moved forward with a dissatisfied expression.

“Whatever. Just stay on your own side.”

“Huh?”

The setter said nothing more. He plopped down on the edge of the bed and sighed in exhaustion before rolling over to face the wall. Hinata watched him curl up into a fetal position, his long legs still almost reaching the edge despite his adjustments, and suddenly felt a little embarrassed. It already looked pretty uncomfortable for the taller boy, and he was sure it’d be even worse for him if he took up the remaining space. Maybe he should’ve just let Kageyama have the bed, after all…

“Uh, Kageyama, I…”

“It’s not a big deal. Just lay down and shut up. I’m tired.”

He realized that was Kageyama’s way to say “it’s okay” without sounding like too much of a sap. With that, Hinata hopped over and flopped down on his side, causing the mattress to shake and Kageyama to bounce a bit as he lay there. There was plenty of room at the end for his legs to stretch out, so it wasn’t too bad all things considered. He realized there was more space than he originally thought at first glance; if he didn’t stretch out his arms too much, he basically had a good chunk of it to himself.

The only problem was not stretching out.

He tried his best to stay still, he really did, but the habit of fidgeting in bed to tire himself out was impossible to break in a single night. An hour had passed since the captain called for lights out, and both athletes were still wide awake. Every time Kageyama felt himself drifting off, he’d be awakened by an accidental backhand to the face or an unwelcome knee to his side. Hinata was proving to be an extremely restless sleeper, and it was starting to get on his nerves.

“Stop moving around so much!” He barked out after Hinata elbowed him in the ribs for the seventh time. He rolled over to face his orange-haired teammate, who seemed just as frustrated by the predicament.

“I can’t help it!! I can’t get comfortable…”

“How do you think I feel with you hitting me every five seconds?! And get your feet off me!”

“I’m not even touching you right now!!”

“Yes you are!”

“Am not!!”

Kageyama mumbled something that sounded like a curse under his breath, then turned around to face the wall again. The truth was, Hinata wasn’t lying; he had curled his limbs back into himself after the last accidental bump, so truly no part of him was touching his crotchety teammate. Seeking revenge for being yelled at (while also experiencing a streak of somewhat uncharacteristic mischief), he took the opportunity to tease his taller classmate.

“I’m not touching youuuu…” he taunted in a childish sing-songy voice, one finger hovering right next to Kageyama’s side.

“Leave me alone, Hinata.”

“But I’m not even doing anything…”

A wave of misguided bravery suddenly overcame Karasuno’s greatest decoy. He moved in closer until his hand was right next to his companion’s side.

And then he poked him.

At first, Kageyama just flinched. He arched his back, tension spewing throughout his body, and the sound of a stifled squeal rang out through the quiet, darkened room. In a flash, Kageyama rolled over once again to face his former middle school rival.

“Hinata! You - AAAGK!”

This time, Hinata really caught him off guard by poking his side again. The setter’s arms immediately went to his sides, hugging himself in protection. The decoy’s eyes widened once he understood what was happening.

“No way! Kageyama, you’re-!”

He was silenced by two strong hands gripping both of his wrists in midair and one single, ominous word of warning.

“Don’t.”

Still unfazed, Hinata kept pressing him. A devious smirk was slowly creeping across his round face.

“Don’t what? Don’t do this?”

He slipped one hand out of his grasp somehow and pinched his side again, but this time Kageyama let out a small yelp before flinching away. He tried grabbing Hinata’s hand, but the decoy had learned from the first time and slid away before he could be caught. He tickled every spot he could reach, seeking out unprotected areas. Skittering on his sides, poking into his ribs, clawing all five fingers on his belly, he was always one step ahead of the setter.

As his tickle attack continued, he noticed Kageyama was having a harder time holding back his laughter. For the most part, it was still fairly controlled, but hearing some little tittered giggles break through every few seconds was satisfying enough.

“Nghh! Mmmph! Hhh… ha…! … Hinata…! Sto - aha! -op!”

Kageyama’s struggles became more determined and purposeful, and soon the tables were completely turned. After a brief struggle with all four limbs involved, Hinata found himself pinned to the mattress with both wrists above his head and a very cross Kageyama glaring down at him.

“Hey, wait!! Kageyama, please!!”

“You shouldn’t mess with people who are bigger and stronger than you.”

In one swift, fluid movement, Kageyama took hold of both Hinata’s wrists in one hand. No matter how hard the underclassman pulled, he couldn’t break free from his iron grip. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was much stronger. It was a terrible time to learn such a fact; Hinata had made a grave mistake letting himself get stuck like this.

He was laughing frantically before Kageyama even touched him, and his laughter only grew in pitch once his free hand started kneading his ribs.

“Wait, wait, wahahahait! Nononononononono-OHOHOHO!!”

Unlike Kageyama, Hinata didn’t have the willpower to hold back whatsoever. His giggles floated through the air freely, like musical notes from a singing choir. And it seemed like everywhere the setter touched garnered an intense, over the top reaction. Worming into his underarms made Hinata howl with laughter. Wisping gently over the now-exposed skin on his stomach after his T-shirt rode up his torso made him squeal like a little kid. And digging into his sides made him cackle like he’d heard the most hilarious joke ever told. On top of that, he was thrashing around as if being poked with hot coals. Even with Kagayama pinning most of his body down with his own large frame, he was still wiggling around quite frantically.

Kageyama’s lips twitched upward in amusement, only adding on to Hinata’s torment.

“KAGEYAHAHAHAHAMA!! Pleheeheeheease no mohohore!!”

“Nope. You started this. Now I’m finishing it.”

“Gahaahahaha! Noooooo! Pleaseimbeggingyouimgonnadie!!!”

Yet, Kageyama did not stop, making sure to hit every one of Hinata’s weak spots and tickling it until he was satisfied. He was proving to be one giant tickle button, screeching with wild laughter no matter where he touched. 

“Shorties like you should learn when to shut up and listen,” Kageyama gave him one last piece of advice before finally letting up on the ruthless tickling. His hand still held Hinata’s wrists down, but with a bit less pressure. His teammate’s involuntary spasms ceased, although a few leftover giggles still fell from his lips.

“You might... be taller…” Hinata gasped, doing his best to swallow as much as possible during his little break. “But I’m... faster!!”

Kageyama had let his guard down thinking he’d tired him out, forgetting about his high level of endurance, and Hinata took full advantage of that by yanking his wrists free and immediately clamping his hands in Kageyama’s underarms. He took him by surprise this time, which made the setter burst out into unrestrained laughter. He crashed down onto the mattress, causing them both to bounce as he tried shaking off the decoy’s hands. Hinata had to laugh along with him; he rarely saw his teammate show any sign of joy, let alone a full blown belly laugh, and he planned to soak it up as long as he could while he still had the chance. 

Kageyama attempted to squirm away, flailing each of his limbs aimlessly in an unsuccessful attempt to kick him off, but came face first with the wall and found himself stuck with nowhere else to go. Again, Hinata tortured him by leaping from spot to spot, relentlessly tickling all of his most sensitive areas without mercy.

“Nahahahahaoooo! Hinataahahahahaha!! I’ll kill you!”

“Take that! And that!! And this too!!”

Their little game went on for a few more minutes, Kageyama spluttering out empty threats through forced giggles as Hinata began to throw in a few “tikitiki” sounds while tickling the absolute snot out of him. However, their fun was soon interrupted by their less-than-pleased team captain, who practically knocked down their door aflame with rage.

“What the hell are you two doing?! You woke up the entire floor!”

Both underclassmen stopped dead in their tracks, mortified at the fact that others had overheard them. Fear struck through their hearts upon seeing Daichi’s irate expression. Dark circles lined his eyes, an unpleasant accessory to match his deep scowl.

“Uh…”

“Stop playing around and go to sleep!” He commanded in a disciplinary tone. “We’ve got practice games tomorrow!”

“Sorry senpai!! It won’t happen again!!” The two shouted simultaneously, once again bowing their heads in shame.

Daichi grumbled under his breath before making his leave.  When the door closed, the two of them collapsed back onto the mattress. Kageyama, still winded and out of breath, took a few seconds to calm himself while Hinata replayed the last few minutes in his mind over and over again. They sat there in awkward silence, neither one willing to speak of what had just happened.

“Sooo…”

“Not another word,” Kageyama silenced him swiftly, turning over to face the wall yet again. Suddenly, Hinata felt a bit lonely, twiddling his thumbs in silence for a little while longer before piping up one last time.

“So, you’re ticklish.”

“I said not another word.”

Kageyama’s order was final, but he sensed the shorter boy shuffling next to him and braced himself for yet another awkward conversation.

“Can I say one more thing?”

“Will you shut up if I say yes?”

Hinata sat up beside him, and as he spoke Kageyama could hear the smile in his voice. It made his next few words all the more flustering.

“You should really smile more often. It suits you better than a frown.”

The setter’s breath caught in his throat and made him choke, causing him to let out a few weak coughs as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. He felt a warm flush over his cheeks and thanked whatever deity was watching over him that Hinata couldn’t see. He clutched the blanket next to him and pulled it over his head, signaling that he was done for the night.

“Goodnight, Hinata.”

A few seconds passed, then he felt Hinata lay down beside him. He made a few more adjustments before finally settling down into a comfortable spot. Kageyama felt his eyes fluttering shut, but before he drifted to sleep he heard a small voice cut through the silence.

“Night, Kageyama.”

~~~~

When he woke up in the morning with sunlight in his face, Kageyama stirred a bit before realizing there was an arm wrapped around his waist. He glanced over and saw Hinata sleeping peacefully, his tiny body curled up into his own. Shocked at first, his initial discomfort settled down when he noticed his own body relaxing at the unexpected display of affection. It was a cute gesture, one that made his cheeks flush with warmth and his stomach erupt into a flurry of butterflies.

He knew that it was almost time for them to get up for practice, but he figured laying in bed for a few more moments wouldn’t hurt.