#i need peace and quiet i need to be wonderfully comfortable right now please

[jackalhadrurusluvr]

the problem is that when i go out i have fun and everything but the next day im so in pain and overstimulated and exhausted that it doesn’t feel all that worth

[yanderes-galore]

Animatronic or android/human, does not matter for this concept 😊 There are barely any Glamrock Freddy GIFs lol

Yandere! Glamrock Freddy Concept

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Yandere behavior, Implied stalking, Obsession at first sight, Delusional thoughts, Robot sentience, Kidnapping.

- Glamrock Freddy is a Yandere that can either work platonic or romantic.

- The bot is naturally caring and kind towards others, even naive sometimes.

- In this case, you can either be a new employee or guest at the pizzaplex.

- Everything goes fine at first, the show goes wonderfully and you're delighted to watch everyone perform.

- Then you notice the bear's blue eyes shift to you once the performance is over.

- You think nothing of it, deciding to continue what you were doing.

- It isn't until later on that you notice the bot following you around the atrium.

- As STAFF this isn't too concerning, as a guest you're a little concerned.

- "How'd you like the show, superstar?"

- No matter how you meet he still insists on calling you superstar.

- Freddy seems nice enough but you're confused as to why he keeps trying to single you out.

- Awkwardly you say you enjoyed it, a small smile on your lips before you try to wave him off and continue on your way.

- You get a little peace and quiet before you encounter Freddy once again.

- "Are you having fun, superstar?"

- Another hesitant response comes from you.

- "Yeah...as much as I can be- You can stop calling me 'superstar', now."

- The bot's puzzled.

- "What would you rather me call you then?"

- "(Y/N), I suppose."

- "(Y/N)? What a super name! I hope we can be great friends."

- You nod softly, trying not to make eye contact with the bot.

- His friendly smile brought little comfort.

- "...I do believe you're needed somewhere else."

- He gives you a confused expression before you gesture behind him, kids jumping up and down to meet the bear.

- "Oh, it appears you're right. I hope to see you again, (Y/N)!"

- With that the bot thumps off.

- It wasn't like you hated Freddy, you just felt odd that he...fixated on you so much.

- A robot was attached to you.

- You thought he asked for everyone's name.

- Freddy did, but didn't follow guests or staff around like he did with you.

- It got to the point where you had to make excuses to leave the bot.

- Like going to the bathroom, or hiding in the STAFF room.

- He appeared to be sad when you'd leave, but reluctantly allowed it.

- "It's best you take care of yourself, (Y/N)... but please be sure to hurry back to the atrium!"

- You tried not to be in the atrium long....

- Freddy's programming must be bugged.

- Soon you have to go home, STAFF or not.

- You aren't on nightshift either way.

- "Superstar!"

- You turn, seeing the bot stop in front of you.

- "Where are you going?"

- "Home, Freddy. I don't belong here at night. Doesn't your coding tell you that?"

- Freddy goes silent, a saddened expression on his face.

- "Freddy...?"

- "Right, yes, I understand. But before you go, don't you wish to take a picture with me?"

- You're puzzled, Freddy soon holding up a small pass.

- It read 'Freddy Photo Pass'.

- Before you can decline, the pass is pressed into your palm.

- Freddy doesn't seem to want to leave you alone, so despite you wanting to bolt out the door, you accept the offer.

- Only to wake up after hours within the Pizzaplex.

- Your heart accelerates, your body laying on an orange couch.

- "You're awake, (Y/N)!"

- Your eyes shift towards the large bot standing over you.

- "Are you comfortable? I made sure the couch was comfortable. Are you hungry? Maybe bored?"

- You only blink at him, still processing your current situation.

- "What...? Where am I? I need to go home...."

- Freddy shakes his head.

- "You're in my room on Rockstar Row! I'm here to take care of you!"

- It clicks, you shoot up in your seat.

- "There's no way you just-"

- You've been abducted, by a robot.

- "You have to be malfunctioning!"

- "Malfunction? Whatever do you mean?"

- "You kidnapped me! Prevented me from going home!"

- "I only felt you'd be happier here...."

- You're seething.

- "Why?"

- He smiles.

- "You're with me! Your friend! Don't you trust me, superstar? We'll be perfect together!"

- Even if you managed to escape Freddy's room without him knowing, it becomes a game of chase.

- You're trying to find a way out without being caught.

- Except unlike with Gregory, you're running from Freddy.

- "(Y/N)...? There's no need to run! It's dangerous here at night! You're meant to stay in the room, with me!"

- The chase may not last long, but you'll try to last as long as you can....

[ot7always]

In the Dead of Night

banner courtesy of the wonderfully talented @dee-ehn​ !

Word Count: 14.5k

Pairing: Vampire!Jin x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, friends to lovers, smut, fluff

Warnings: dom!Jin, sub!Reader, non-gory blood and knife injury (it’s there, but mostly humorous and/or with very little specific description), biting (like actual biting), vampire compulsion (nothing concerning consent-wise), marking, hair pulling, grinding, size kink, spanking (hand), fingering, praise, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare

Rating: 18+

Summary: Courtesy of my roommate, who summarized my story much better than I ever could:

A/N: It’s finally here! I meant for this to be about half the length and be released more than a week or 2 ago, but as you very well know, things don’t exactly go as planned in 2020. Regardless, I enjoyed writing this fic a lot, so please let me know what you think!

--

Saturdays at 3 am were supposed to be peaceful.

Well – at your apartment, that is. You couldn’t account for whoever elected to roam the streets of downtown at night.

But what was definitely not supposed to be happening was being awoken from your deep slumber by furious pounding on your front door.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

When you glanced groggily over at your alarm clock and saw the time, you could have screamed.

Just as you reached for your phone to call the cops on whatever psychopath was probably waking up your entire floor, your screen lit up with a text.

Suckjin [03:19]: plz open ur door

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Sliding out of bed, you hissed as your bare feet hit the cold hardwood.

This had better be fucking worth it.

Plodding out of your bedroom on tiptoes to avoid as much contact with the floor as possible, you made your way to the front door without even bothering to throw on shorts under your oversized t-shirt.

Whatever. You were sure that brat has seen thighs before.

While the knocks had thankfully quieted for a moment, he started up again just as you reached the door.

Before he could even dare bang his fist against the wood again, you were turning the deadbolt and whipping the door open, readying your fiercest glare for the broad man standing before you.

Right as you opened your mouth to start cussing him out, he sprung towards you, hands pushing you further inside your apartment and shutting the door before you could even blink.

When he turned to face you again, hands on his stomach, you prepared for the verbal onslaught you were about to send his way.

“Just what in the absolute hell do you think you’re-”

When your eyes naturally followed the path of his arms down to his stomach, what you saw there shut you up immediately.

Wide-eyed, you took a step back, eyes never leaving the sight before you. He-

As your breath quickened, a (miraculously clean) hand shot out to cover your mouth gently, though you were sure he was ready to clamp down at a moment’s notice.

“Please don’t scream.”

When you were finally able to break your gaze from his abdomen and look at his face instead, pleading eyes locked with yours, his skin paler than usual.

As frightened as you were, you calmed some when you processed the fact that he seemed to be standing before you just fine, albeit the fact that his eyes appeared somewhat unfocused.

You nodded, reaching a shaky hand up to remove his from your face, shivering at how cold and clammy he felt.

When you could speak again, you spent a few moments collecting your thoughts before you opened your mouth again.

“You - you have a knife in you!” you hissed, stepping closer to move his jacket aside to get a better look.

It wasn’t that gruesome a sight, especially not when he was wearing a black t-shirt, but it was no less jarring to have your friend show up in the middle of the night after seemingly being stabbed.

“I know that!” he hissed back, slightly exasperated, muffling a groan when you tried to inch his shirt up to glance at the skin beneath.

“Why the hell do you have a knife in you?” you whispered furiously, pulling him by the arm to settle down onto your couch.

He plopped down with a sigh of relief, his head lolling back momentarily. You hoped he knew that he was paying your cleaning bills if he bled all over your loveseat.

“Now, now, didn’t anyone ever tell you not to remove the knife if you get stabbed?” he said with a pained chuckle, sucking in a breath at the movement it caused.

“Seokjin, now is not the time to joke around,” you said, panic rising in you because you had absolutely no clue what you were supposed to do with a vampire who had a knife embedded in him. “Why did you come here?”

“Well you were the only person I could think of who would answer their door at 3 am-”

“Seokjin!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You didn’t tend to call him that unless you were genuinely annoyed, and he seemed to drop the humorous demeanor immediately.

“Why didn’t you go to a hospital?”

“I can’t go to a hospital.”

“What?! Why not?”

“Okay, correction – I didn’t want to go to a hospital.”

You let out a groan of frustration, fingers rubbing circles into your temples. This man was going to be the death of you. You had no idea why vampires seemed to have such an aversion to hospitals, but you supposed you could never understand. Despite their existence being generally accepted in society so long as they didn’t leave trails of bodies in their wake, there must have been some other reason nobody had ever shared with you.

“Seokjin, I really don’t know what to do here,” you whispered, an ounce of desperation and unease making its way into your tone. His expression softened at the sound, reaching for your hand. As much as he might have been trying to comfort you, the feeling of his hand unusually icy against yours only scared you more.

“I...” he trailed off, trying to figure out a good way to phrase this before settling on being straightforward. “...need blood.”

“Huh?” You furrowed your brow. “You literally have blood at home.”

“No, I, uhh...” he paused. “I need fresh blood to heal something like this.”

You froze. He needed fresh blood? He showed up here because he wanted... your blood?

“Aren’t there places you can go for blood?” you asked, tensing up at the notion of being bitten. It wasn’t that you were so totally opposed – it was no secret that people said it felt good. But you had never been bitten before, and you didn’t know what to think about Seokjin showing up here for that reason.

“I came here because I trust you the most,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Please. I promise I would never do this unless I had to. But please – you can say no, but tell me right now, because this hurts so much.”

Seeing his pained expression and feeling the way his fingers gripped yours like a lifeline, there was absolutely no way you were letting him back outside to roam the streets. You had no idea how this really happened to him, but despite their general acceptance, vampire hunters still existed. Like hell you were going to let easy bait walk right into their hands.

Especially not Seokjin.

“I – okay, I just – I don’t know why I’m nervous.” Biting was a pretty private, intimate thing. Most vampires drank bagged blood, with live donors only in carefully-controlled emergency clinics or heavily guarded clubs.

There was, of course, the cases of vampire-human relationships or hookups, but most people didn’t tend to share the ultra-specific details of their sex life.

Not that you had never attempted research on your own, but anecdotes you found on the internet varied so wildly that you had to wonder whether they were even telling the truth.

“I promise I can control myself. I would never put you in danger.”

“No, I know, it’s not that,” you mumbled. “Just... will it hurt?”

“Oh. No, it shouldn’t.”

“It shouldn’t? I don’t know how reassuring that is,” you chuckled nervously. You weren’t about to back out now, but you had at least hoped that he would have a straight answer for you.

He took a shaky breath, and a pang of guilt went through you for asking so many questions.

“The more attracted a vampire and donor are to each other, emotionally and physically, the better it’ll feel for you.”

“And you?”

He smirked, and curse him for making it look good despite his unfortunate... situation. “Me? I’m a vampire, it always feels good.”

Right. You might have facepalmed at the stupid question that left your own lips, but his voice momentarily distracted you from doing so.

“Anyway, I know my face isn’t a problem, so unless you secretly hate me or something, you’ll be okay,” he grinned.

“I’m so glad you can joke around right now,” you snorted derisively. “If I secretly hated you, you wouldn’t be here, would you?”

“Fair.”

“Anyway, I’ll do it, just,” you winced. “Don’t call me a donor. It feels weird.”

“Deal,” he said quickly, pulling you closer to him. “Thank you for this. Really, I owe you.”

You sighed. “I can’t just let you bleed out somewhere in the world, can I?” You allowed him to pull you close enough that you were hovering over him with your legs touching his, and you stood awkwardly in silence. “Uhh, what should I do?”

He patted his lap in invitation and your face warmed at the notion, but you straddled his legs before your brain had time to dwell on it.

He raised a hand to nudge the collar of your shirt away from your neck, his icy fingers and the sensation of his nails on your skin sending a shiver down your spine. When his thumb rubbed gently against the warmth of your neck, you had to suppress a gasp at the surprisingly intimate touch.

When you focused your gaze on his face, his eyes were not fixed on your own, but rather on the movements of his own hand, his pupils obscenely dilated. You’d never seen him look so lustful, so hungry.

Heat undeniably flared in your core (much without your consent), and it was wishful thinking to hope that Seokjin didn’t pick up on your quickening breath or rapid heartbeat.

“I...” he whispered, trailing off before he’d even begun.

“Hm?” you answered, already feeling dazed before his fangs had even touched you.

“I need you to pull the knife out.”

Well, that certainly broke you free of your trance.

“What!? Me? You – I – me?” you stuttered in a very flattering display of eloquence.

“I’m... not sure I have the strength right now,” he admitted ruefully, and you could tell that if it were really up to him, he would be doing it himself.

Just what have you gotten yourself into?

“Fine,” you murmured, raising both hands to grip firmly at the handle of the blade. “Just – don’t bite me until I put this knife down, okay? We don’t need any more... accidents.”

He failed to hold back a laugh at that, and you managed to crack a grin in response. “Okay, okay.”

To think he had you so utterly flustered and at his whim only moments ago.

“On the count of three,” you breathed, bracing yourself for something you certainly never expected anyone to ask of you. “One... two... three.”

When you reached three, you flinched your eyes shut, pulling as hard as you could in one quick burst, desperate to have this all over before it started.

The sensation was something odd and unspeakable, and you turned to toss the knife on the table behind you before you could register the uncomfortable warmth on your hands.

But the exact moment the sound of metal clattering on glass reached your ears, your head was being wrenched back by large hands, plump lips and hot breath coming into contact with your neck before you realized he’d moved.

You could barely suck in a gasp before a hand moved to grip tightly at your waist, and fangs sunk into your skin.

White-hot pain lanced through your body like electricity, and for a moment you were thinking you were done for. Seokjin was wrong, maybe he lied, and you definitely lacked the strength to push off a dying vampire determined to drink.

But just as you opened your mouth, whether to scream or cry or whatever else, you were immediately silenced, a breathy groan soon pulled from your throat.

The sudden onslaught of pleasure flowing through your limbs had you weak, your body falling limp into sensation immediately.

Clearly prepared for this outcome, Seokjin only pulled you closer to him, the hand on your waist supporting your body, a hand fisted near your scalp keeping your head back. The casual display of strength pulled a whimper from you, your body feeling hot all over.

Your eyelids fluttered closed, and you had to wonder when you had opened them at all, because you couldn’t recall processing a single thing visually since his fangs touched you.

You thought that would be as good as it gets, but the pleasure only kept building and building. It rendered you almost completely immobile, your world reduced to Seokjin at your neck, the broad planes of his body below yours, and the myriad of bliss flooding your veins. Heat was throbbing in your cunt, your nipples hard and almost pained as they rubbed against the roughness of your t-shirt.

You raised your hands that were sitting idle at your sides to fist into Seokjin’s shirt, giving no thought to the fact that he was gravely injured in that spot only minutes ago, fingers feeling almost numb and not registering the wetness that was there either.

“Ah - Jin,” you cried loudly as the bliss only built, tossing your head back to bare more of your neck.

He growled ferally into your skin, the sound going straight to your core. He pulled you closer still, enough that your breasts pressed harshly into his chest, your hips slotted together.

Sighing happily at the pressure right where you needed it most, you ground desperately against whatever you could feel against you. When you felt the undeniable hardness of Seokjin’s cock against your cunt and its delicious friction against your soaked-through panties, you moaned obscenely.

You felt rather than heard his gasp in response, his grip around you tightening even further, enough that you felt out of breath.

You whimpered at the restriction, his strength keeping you from grinding against him no matter how hard you tried.

You cursed him internally, but there was no way you were going to formulate words at this point, your mind completely lost to euphoric delirium.

It felt as though you were floating, head thrown back as sparks flew up your spine relentlessly.

Despite the lack of proper friction against your cunt, you could feel pressure building in your abdomen. You were close, so close, so undeniably close-

Fangs retracted from your neck, and the sudden loss was like ice water being thrown over your head. You shivered.

The tight grip on you loosened, Seokjin leaning into the back of the couch and groaning.

When you opened your eyes you almost fell over at the way the world spun, dizziness and blurry vision almost distracting you from the orgasm that seemed only moments away.

Almost.

Blinking furiously until you managed to fix your gaze onto Seokjin’s face, you sucked in a harsh breath at the sight before you.

Irises swimming with crimson, pupils blown out, chest heaving, dark hair mussed, lips painted red, fangs still visible past his parted lips – he looked the very picture of sin.

Fuck.

Though if you had a mirror, you would see that you looked just as ruined – eyes wanton and desperate, teeth gnawing into your bottom lip, dark bruises colouring your neck. If temptation were a person, it would be you, sitting in Seokjin’s lap with your soaked panties still pressed against the bulge in his pants.

As you stared at each other, it was as though time froze. Neither of you moved an inch, seemingly content to remain in some kind of intense, sensual staredown for the rest of time.

But you’d never claimed to be a patient person, and when you finally felt confident that your body was yours again, you acted.

If he wanted to push you away, he could have. His reflexes always seemed to almost predict the future, and you were positive that if he didn’t want this, he would have stopped you. He was never one to avoid voicing his discontent, even if it was masked as a self-deprecating joke. Some part of you deep down expected him to end this before it had even begun.

He didn’t.

Your lips met his in a depraved frenzy, too far gone to make any attempt at starting slow. It was rough, and it was messy, and it was desperate, and you loved it. His fangs scraped at your bottom lip and you gasped, fisting your hands into his hair as your body remembered how it felt the last time those fangs breached your skin. But as you ground your clit into the sizeable bulge in his pants again, he froze.

Just as you were about to pull away to see what caught his attention, he pushed you away first, hands firmly on your shoulders.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he gasped, and it very much looked like it took all of his willpower to break away.

“What’s wrong?” you asked weakly, your head still spinning, body absolutely overcome by lust. In fact, he was looking a bit blurry again with how fast he moved you, and it took several moments of rapid blinking before you met his very concerned gaze. Nothing ever escaped him, and you were sure that your semi-weak state was very obvious to him right now.

Not that it affected how much you wanted his touch, his cock.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Your brow furrowed. “I do know what I’m doing,” you said firmly – or at least, you tried, but it took far too much effort to wrap your tongue around the syllables, almost as if you were drunk.

“Y/N-”

“Why don’t you believe me?” you whined, this time sounding a bit more coherent. You tried to push toward him, but his hold was too strong. “You want it too, look at your face.”

He sighed, looking to the ceiling as though it held some answer on how to make this easier. “It’s not about whether I want it or not. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Jinnie,” you whimpered needily, reaching your hands toward the waistband of his pants. If he didn’t touch you soon, you swore that you would scream. “Please. I want it. I want you. I promise-”

He moved to snatch your hands before you could touch him, and your mouth clamped shut at the grip. His expression was almost pained for a moment before his eyes glazed over with a look that would have had you on your knees immediately.

His hand shot up to grip your chin firmly, ensuring that you couldn’t look away. Though, you didn’t think you could look away if you tried, drawn to the unspeakable darkness you found there, crimson still invading the rich brown.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and sleep for me?”

“Wh-what?” you choked out, but it was as though you’d lost control of your body, feeling as though you’d been awake for days without sleep. Your eyelids fluttered shut, but you forced them back open, groaning weakly when your vision fell upon Seokjin, his expression still dark and hungry.

You were about to open your mouth again, but something about his eyes was so captivating. Something about the red pulled you in, left you unable to think. Were his eyes always this beautiful? You wracked your brain, but came up blank. You wanted to open your mouth and ask him, but you couldn’t move a muscle. Even still, your face drew closer to his as though pulled in by a magnet.

His eyes roved over your face before meeting your gaze once more, and you missed the flash of sympathy that was present for only a moment. You were relieved when he looked at you again, fingers twitching with the urge to cup his face. You were content to look at him for the rest of time – if there was anything Seokjin had, it was time, right?

Attention focused on each other, he parted his lips, and you could have sworn your ears buzzed, desperate to hold on to every word.

“Sleep.”

Your vision went black.

--

You awoke to a hand scratching gently at your scalp, a great contrast to the relentless hammering of your head. You groaned, shoving your face further into your pillow, blocking out the light that was already worsening the ache of your skull, even with your eyes closed.

You were so comfy, so relaxed at the touch that you almost drifted right back to sleep.

Wait.

You lived alone.

Sitting up all in a rush, you gasped as the world spun. It only got worse when you forced your eyes open, a pained whine leaving your lips as even the limited light in the room only introduced more pain behind your eyes.

“Woah! It’s just me, it’s just me.” Seokjin’s voice came out in a rush, sturdy arms lowering you back to your pillow as he pulled the sheets up to shadow your face.

Right. Seokjin.

Your heartbeat calmed, recalling his arrival late last night. Though, what came next was all a blur you couldn’t bother trying to remember right now.

You heard him step away quickly, the sound of your curtains drawing completely closed having you let out a sigh of relief. His footsteps neared you again, his cool touch returning to stroke gently at your face, before moving to massage at the base of your skull.

His touch was so delicate it almost baffled you. You didn’t think he’d touch anyone like this, his displays of affection more inclined to loud compliments and playful roughhousing.

But you couldn’t deny that it felt incredible, your neck arching almost imperceptively as you leaned into his touch. The chill of his skin against yours sent a shiver through you, and you tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest.

“Are you cold?”

Blood rushed to your face at the observation, though you only gave a noncommittal noise in return. He didn’t need to know what was going on in your mind.

“My head hurts,” you mumbled quietly, a pout overtaking your lips. Seokjin had to force himself not to laugh at how cute you looked then.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he replied softly, lulling you back into a half-asleep state with the gentle motions of his hand on you.

You couldn’t tell how long it was before you opened your eyes again – it could have been 2 minutes or it could have been two hours. You couldn’t even tell whether you’d drifted off or not.

It was fortunately much darker than the first time you opened your eyes, much to the relief of your headache that had faded some, but was still thudding away.

What you didn’t expect, however, was to be greeted by the golden skin of Seokjin’s chest, the shadows of the room only making it look more unreal.

You blearily blinked several times before determining that yes, that was Seokjin half-naked and perched on a kitchen chair. You tried to get words out and failed, clearing your throat before trying again.

“Where are your clothes?”

He grinned. “A bit ruined, if you recall.”

Right.

At least his pants were still on. That was best for your sanity.

“Why does my head hurt so much?” you asked, luckily able to keep your eyes open now to look at him without the pain multiplying tenfold.

He winced, his chest aching at the pained expression on your face. “I’m sorry. That’s my fault.”

“What do you mean? Because you bit me?”

“No, not that.” He raised his free hand to scratch awkwardly at his ear.

“Huh? Why then?” All of this was so confusing. Maybe you should have done more research on vampires in your life, though you never expected to be in this sort of situation.

“I, uhh... compelled you.” He gnawed nervously at his lip, but rather than the lashing out he might have expected, you only looked at him in confusion.

“You what? Why?”

“What do you remember from last night?” he posed to you instead.

As much as you tried to recall, you couldn’t focus on anything with the state your head was in. You remembered him arriving at your house, a bit of stupid banter, getting on the couch, sitting in his lap. Then, he bit you.

Then what?

You honestly didn’t know, and you couldn’t help the fear that crept its way through you at that realization.

“You bit me...” you trailed off, looking away from his face and instead staring into the sheets near where your hands laid.

He hummed in affirmation, clearly urging you to continue.

“And then, I don’t really know,” you whispered, an edge of panic in your voice.

He sighed. “That’s what I thought. Don’t worry, it’ll come back.”

“Did something bad happen?” You tried to wrack your brain for possible scenarios where he would have had to compel you to do something, and you came up blank every time. What could you have done? Attacked him? Or did he go crazy at the taste of your blood and attack you? No, that didn’t make any sense – you were lying in bed feeling perfectly normal besides the headache.

What the hell happened?

“Nothing bad happened. I just... made you sleep before we did something stupid.”

It felt like the more he told you, the less you knew. Before you did something stupid? As in, did something stupid together?

There was something about the way he was choosing his words that led you to only one conclusion – in fact, he sounded an awful lot like Taehyung bemoaning his drunken hookups.

There was no way you almost fucked... right?

You’d have to know, right? There was no way you would have gone along with that... right?

It wasn’t as though you’d never had a spur of the moment one-night stand, but with Seokjin? There was absolutely no way you would’ve let that happen. A person had to protect their heart, after all.

“Stop overthinking right now, you’ll just make the pain worse.”

“I’m not,” you protested, though you didn’t know why you even tried lying. It was a bit hard to trick someone who was both a vampire and your friend.

“I can literally hear you freaking out. Please just try to rest, you’ll remember when the headache goes away.”

You sighed, trying to ease the tension in your body you didn’t even realize you had. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said confidently, his hand trailing away to rub firm circles into your shoulder instead.

“Mm.” You might have said something, but proper words evaded you at his touch. You tried focusing on him rather than the thrum of your skull, and you had to force yourself to keep your eyes open.

The expression on Seokjin’s face was one you hadn’t seen before. His eyes looked into yours with a softness that felt unfamiliar, a soft smile overtaking his lips when he saw how exhausted you looked.

“Sleep if you’re tired, princess,” he murmured, pulling the sheets up higher to cover you more. “Do you want another blanket?”

You could feel your heart speed up in your chest at the pet name and his tenderness, and you cursed the fact that there was no way to hide anything from him. At least he was polite enough not to tease you like he did your other friends.

You were so momentarily flustered that you almost forgot to respond, only nodding in response as you curled further into yourself. If you were any braver, maybe you would have asked him to join you instead.

It was only moments before he was tossing the throw from your living room over you, and it almost startled you. Sometimes you forgot how eerily fast he could move, considering he usually slowed himself to your pace whenever you were together.

You let out a contented sigh as you snuggled into the additional warmth, already feeling only half-conscious. You had just enough energy to let out a mumbled ‘thanks’ before you were drifting off again.

--

When you awoke this time, it felt as though you were an entirely new person. For starters, your head felt blissfully quiet. You were sure you would have cried if you woke up to just as much pain. There was only so much you could take in one 24-hour period. Seokjin had really done a number on your weekend, hadn’t he?

Speaking of Seokjin, he was nowhere to be seen in your bedroom. Though you were sure he was still somewhere. It wasn’t quite his style to disappear without saying goodbye, and you were even more doubtful that he would just leave after biting you.

Biting you.

At the thought, images flooded your mind faster than you could process them.

His fangs at your neck.

The relentless pleasure that invaded every fibre of your being.

Your lips on his.

Your brazen grinding against him.

And, your refusal to stop despite his words.

Holy fuck.

Was it possible to go back to when you didn’t remember and you could ignorantly lay in bed with Seokjin stroking your head?

You sat up only to bury your head in your hands, letting out a loud, embarrassed, frustrated groan while you were at it. If Seokjin didn’t know you were awake before, he surely did now. But merciful as ever, he allowed you to wallow in your mortification alone.

Was there anything worse than trying to mindlessly and basically drunkenly make your way into your friend’s pants and get denied? Your friend who you maybe found a little bit (extremely) attractive in every way, shape, and form?

Well, of course there were worse things, but to you in this moment, it certainly felt like a new low.

It took you a moment to find your footing once you’d hopped out of bed, but luckily you felt good as new otherwise. If you stayed in here alone too much longer you would certainly lose the minimal nerve you had and never leave.

In your rush to make use of your bravery, you remembered at the last moment that you were still in just your panties and shirt with no bra.

When you made it to your dresser, you paused at your reflection.

It was almost... startling how normal you looked. Though, what should you have looked like?

Baring your neck and squinting at the image in front of you, you had to scratch at your neck yourself to verify whether you were imagining it.

Aside from bruises that already seemed to be fading, there were no marks on your neck. Did it really heal that fast?

Maybe you should have been a bit embarrassed that you were so clueless on the whole subject. But in your defense, information on the internet didn’t seem to be very reliable, and vampires, for some reason, seemed to love their air of mystery. Based on the few you knew well, you were pretty sure they got a fair amount of amusement out of the misconceptions flying around.

Finally fully dressed for the first time since Seokjin showed up unannounced, you flung your door open with all the confidence you could muster.

Which is to say, you cracked your door open just enough for you to stick your head out. Much to your dismay, your eyes met Seokjin’s on the couch almost immediately, your face ducked toward the floor as you slinked your way over to the living room.

You stopped on the opposite side of the table, the sight of the stained knife there definitely not helping in your hope to distract yourself from what a fool you’d made of yourself the night before.

Out of curiosity, your gaze shot up to examine his abdomen.

You didn’t know why the perfectly smooth and unblemished muscle you found there was of any surprise to you after the night you’ve had, but it was. There wasn’t a single trace of any injury or blood on him – in fact, he looked much cleaner than when he got here. Did he use your shower?

A throat clearing had your eyes instinctively locking with his, an amused smile playing over his features that shot embarrassment through your veins. Of course the one time your ogling was purely scientific, he had to catch you and make fun of you.

You couldn’t stop your sight from drifting back down, the concept of there being absolutely no trace of anything happening to him boggling your mind.

“You really...” you trailed off, eyes darting back and forth across his bare skin one last time just to be sure. “You really healed, just like that?”

He only nodded, tapping the unbroken skin for emphasis. “You can heal me, I can heal you. Convenient, isn’t it?”

You nodded back in response, silence taking over the room quickly. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do to fill it. You’ve never experienced an awkward silence with Seokjin before, his charming nature always keeping everyone around him comfortable. This sort of energy in the room with him... it was unsettling.

“Y/N,” Seokjin called out once the silence went on a moment too long for his liking. “Can you come sit with me?”

He scooted over to make plenty of room for you, but you felt almost frozen in place. Did he really want your company after you’d pretty much jumped him? Was he sitting you down so he could let you down easy, tell you that this has been real, but he refused to associate with someone with so little self-control?

You must have stood there staring for longer than you thought, because an unreadable expression crossed his face before he spoke up again.

“Are you scared of me?”

Huh?

“No!” you blurted out, your volume clearly surprising him. “Well, a little?”

“Oh.” If you weren’t paying such close attention to him, you would have missed the hurt that flashed in his eyes. But you didn’t.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant,” you said hurriedly. You wanted to smack yourself for being such a blatant mess. “I’m just... scared,” you finished weakly.

His gaze softened immediately, and he had to restrain himself from hopping over the table between you to pull you into his arms. You looked like you were trying to shrink into yourself, your shoulders pulled towards your chest, hands wringing nervously in front of you.

“Did you think I would be upset?” he asked softly. He leaned forward, earnest expression on his face.

That was an understatement. You could live with “drunkenly” coming onto someone, but you didn’t know what you would do if it ended up costing you your friendship. Maybe you were being overly dramatic, but you never claimed to be the most rational person.

You nodded slowly, your vision dropping to stare at the floor, hands wrapped around your middle, squeezing as you struggled to maintain composure. You didn’t know why your heart was beating a mile a minute, your palms uncomfortably sweaty. You usually didn’t feel this level of fear when confronting a mistake that, to a normal person, shouldn’t be such an obscenely big deal as you were making it. But Seokjin was certainly not a normal person to you, and any situation that lowered his opinion of you was one you would do anything to avoid.

“Hey.” The sudden gentle hand on your chin made you squeak, and you would have stumbled in your rush to step backward if not for the steadying hand on your shoulder.

You always seemed to forget that he could move so quickly and silently. Your heart might stop at this rate if he wasn’t careful.

His thumb stroked at your jaw as if he hadn’t just seen you nearly fall flat on your ass, softly tapping under your chin until you met his gaze.

“I promise I’m the furthest thing from mad right now. Nothing is even your fault, okay?”

“But-”

“No buts. Let’s talk, but I’m not upset. Okay?” he urged, eyes not leaving yours until you nodded. The smile he gave in return made you feel warm, the tenderness in his gaze doing things to your heart, the hint of a smile ghosting your lips.

The hand on your shoulder nudged you toward him, the other opening wide to welcome you into a hug.

You went easily, your arms wrapping around his bare waist as you tucked your face into his chest. The relief you felt at his reassurance was immense, and you melted into his touch. It was almost strange how well you fit together.

“Let’s sit,” he said, kind yet firm. He led you over to the couch, settling himself down into the spot where he seemed to have spent much of the past day in.

You didn’t know what possessed you to straddle his lap in the way you did last night. Maybe it was the way he looked at you warmly without judgment, or the way your body craved his nearness after getting a taste of his touch. But whatever it was, he didn’t push you away – rather, he reached for your hands, interlacing his fingers with your own.

This position wasn’t the most “innocent” to begin with, but with the memories of last night rushing through your head, of his teeth at your neck and the pleasure you felt, your breath sped up.

With the expression on Seokjin’s face, you were sure he must have been thinking the same thing, hungry eyes flickering from your lips back up to your waiting gaze. Unlike you, however, he didn’t seem at all embarrassed.

“Are you confused?” he asked suddenly.

Caught off guard by the sudden question, your brows furrowed. Though you didn’t know just exactly what he was referring to, what will all that happened, but your answer was still the same regardless.

You nodded hesitantly, but he didn’t speak, your puzzled expression telling him that you were still working things out in your head. The silence stretched on until you finally spoke up again.

“You didn’t tell me it would be like... that.” Euphoric. Dreamlike. Intense. No matter what word you used, it still didn’t feel enough to encompass what you experienced the night before. You’d never experienced white-hot physical and even emotional pleasure like that, not in all your years of life.

You dropped your gaze down to your joined hands, watching the way he fiddled with your fingers as he pondered his next words. It felt unusual to have a conversation with him in this way – you both tended to be people who said what they thought without thinking on it too much, with friends at least. But it was reassuring to see him so serious, to see that he really did care.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it was a possibility,” he finally said. He sounded confident in his words, but you found it odd that he was fidgeting so much. He hadn’t stopped moving his hands since taking hold of yours, and even his legs were starting to shift beneath yours. Why did he seem so nervous?

“What does that mean?”

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” he responded instead, leaving you staring at him, baffled.

“Huh?” you replied, immediately defensive.

You didn’t have the smallest idea of what that question meant, but he fixed his gaze on you inquisitively. Did he think you had some big secret or something? Sure, he didn’t know everything about your life, but there was nothing so exceptional about you that not mentioning it would be some sort of betrayal.

“Uhh, never mind.”

“What do you mean, never mind? You can’t just ask me something like then and then say that,” you huffed, lips forming a thin line.

“Sorry I just thought – do you remember what I told you when you asked if it would hurt?”

You swore he was going to give you whiplash with his questions, but at least this one was easy to answer.

“Sure, you said the closer two people are the better it feels. Something like that, right?”

“Right, so, uhh, it wouldn’t normally feel that intense, you know?”

The fact that he definitely seemed to know exactly what was going on and kept beating around the bush was more than a little bit frustrating. Considering he was normally as straightforward as a person could get, though, you opted to simple stare expectantly at him. But if he didn’t cut to the point in approximately 20 seconds, your annoyance would just about outweigh your concern.

“It shouldn’t feel that way unless you liked me back,” he finally said, all in one breath.

You could only blink blankly as you processed his words, but when it clicked, you went from mildly annoyed to incredibly flustered all in the same second.

“HUH?! Wait, back?” You could almost feel your headache coming back with how many directions this conversation has taken in less than 15 minutes. Your hands were starting to feel disgustingly clammy in his, but neither of you moved to separate them.

“I know this is so sudden, and I didn’t expect to be outed like this either and it doesn’t have to mean anything, like I know I like you a lot, like a lot a lot, but I don’t really know how much you feel about me or if it’s even that significant or just a passing attraction because either is possible and I’m really sorry if this made everything awkward-”

His ridiculously fast words were cut off by your newly-free hand clamping down over his mouth, plump lips tickling your skin as he stared at you, wide-eyed. You were sure if you tried this any other time he would (playfully) smack you, but he only stared.

“Really?” you whispered. To be completely honest, you never realistically considered a relationship, or even just a hook-up with Seokjin. You found him wholly and insanely attractive, but didn’t everyone? And it wasn’t that he was a vampire and you were a human – it was laughable to believe that you’d think that long-term anyway.

No, you just never saw him being that into you. He was almost ethereally beautiful, got along well with everyone, and had one of the most charming personalities you’d ever seen. His physique wasn’t even something that needed to be mentioned. With all that considered, all you ever cared to do was admire him from afar, content to have him as a close friend. It wasn’t as though he’d ever sent you hints that he wanted otherwise, either.

So to hear that your stupid little harmless crush could actually amount to anything?

You thought things couldn’t get any more unexpected.

When he nodded his confirmation, you couldn’t keep the grin from overtaking your face.

The giddiness clear on your face and the adorable sparkle in your eye sent unquantifiable relief through him, and the second you removed your hand, he opened his mouth to speak.

But somehow you were quicker than him, your lips meeting his before a single syllable could be uttered.

Unlike last night, you didn’t kiss him like you wanted to devour him, or like your body would light on fire if you couldn’t get as close as possible. This was calmer, slower, but it didn’t take long for that to change.

His fangs weren’t out this time, but that didn’t change the fact that you gasped as soon as his teeth dug into your bottom lip. Sparks shot up your spine at the sensation, your mind unable to stop thinking about what you felt the last time you were in this same position. How good it felt to be helpless to the pleasure battering down on you, held in place by strong hands and strong arms.

He’d probably ruined teeth for you for the rest of your life.

You let him do whatever he wanted, and he groaned into your mouth when you tangled your hands in his hair. Hands gripped your ass tightly and squeezed, pulling you in closer to him.

His hands didn’t even wander much further than that, but heat flared in your core regardless. When he raised his hips to brush the bulge in his pants against your aching centre, you could only moan and grind down onto him.

The pressure against your clit through the thin material of your shorts cut off every possible train of thought, and you were pretty sure that after all this, these panties would never recover.

You felt goosebumps raise on your flesh when a hand rose, nails scraping against your scalp. You arched your neck back ever-so-slightly, and Seokjin didn’t miss a beat in detaching from your lips to mouth at the skin above your collarbone instead.

He wasn’t gentle in the way he sucked bruises into your skin, a firm hand holding your head in place while the other held your thigh, his confined length rubbing languidly into your core. You whined and tightened your grip in his hair at the brush of teeth against skin, but much to your displeasure, he pulled away from you before clothes even started coming off.

“Wait.”

“Whyyyy?” you whined petulantly. Was he really going to do this to you again? You knew he was definitely in the right to stop things last night, but there was only so much you could take.

He bit back a smirk at your neediness, thumbing gently at your protruding bottom lip as he resisted the urge to tease you for your cuteness. This soft and pouty side of you was new to him, and he swore something fluttered in his chest.

“You should eat something, princess.”

“Huh?” you blinked, confused. You were about to protest when he spoke up again.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh... dinner last night? Maybe 7? 8?”

He leaned in toward you, but rather than kiss you again, he reached for the table behind you. You craned your neck to see what he was doing, and frowned when he grabbed for his phone. Your bewilderment at what he was doing didn’t last long, however, his phone screen displaying the time for you in large, white font.

5:32 pm.

“Holy shit, I slept for that long?” You stared at him wide-eyed. No wonder he took a shower and everything. You were surprised he was sat there waiting for you for all those hours without complaint.

He looked a bit sheepish, tossing his phone to the side and leaning back into the couch, tugging you with him comfortably. At this point the fire you felt had been dimmed, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still a bit irritated at being denied twice in a row.

“Ah, that would be my fault... the compulsion really gave you hell,” he winced, stroking gently at your cheek with the back of his fingers.

“It’s fine, I feel okay. Wasn’t that my fault anyway?” Your face felt hot thinking back to your behaviour and the lack of restraint you showed, hand rubbing nervously at the back of your neck.

“Of course not,” he assured quickly. “It’s not exactly something easy to resist. But if you regret it, I’m really sor-”

“I don’t regret it!” you cut him off, immediately wanting to pinch yourself for being so loud. And hasty. And embarrassing. And horny. “I’m... I’m happy right now.” Your volume seemed to die as confidence left you, but Seokjin only beamed.

“I’m happy too,” he said simply, tone laced with sincerity. “But you need to eat, I can practically hear your intestines screaming from here.”

“What?!” Strange tension successfully killed, your hands covered your abdomen instinctively as though you could shield yourself from his vampire ears. “Can you actually?”

He let you stare at him in alarm for only a few seconds before he couldn’t hold his giggles back anymore.

“Not really, but you should have seen your face. Why are you so worried about it?”

You huffed, shoulders deflating at his teasing. “I don’t know! That has to be a breach of privacy or something. Who gave you the right to listen to my intestines?”

“I can already hear your heart just fine, would it really matter so much?”

The smile dropped from his lips within a second, and the sudden intensity in his gaze had you frozen. The energy in the room shifted in an instant, and you were at a complete loss for words.

You thought he was going in for a kiss when he leaned closer, but instead his nose went to nuzzle at your neck, trailing up into your hairline. The warm air he exhaled into your ear made you shiver, pressing yourself ever so closer to his bare chest. You didn’t know how he managed to work you up within seconds, but you felt so hot despite his cool touch, baring your neck for him.

“I can hear the way your heart speeds up when I get close...” he whispered, mouthing lazily at your soft skin before sucking harshly. Unsure of what to do with yourself, your nails dug into his biceps, breath unsteady.

“I can hear the way the blood rushes through your veins, the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” A hand rose to palm at your breast, bare beneath the worn cotton of your shirt. You arched your back as he harshly rolled a hard nipple between his fingers.

“I can hear the way you lose your breath, your tiny little gasps...” You couldn’t hide the way you twitched when sharp fangs scraped against your skin, a whimper nearly making its way from your throat. “Just like that.”

“And just so you know...” His voice was like honey, warm and smooth and sweet, and you hung onto his every word. “I can hear the way your stomach is growling right now too.”

The noise you let out that moment was inhumane, somewhere between a squeak and a scream of disbelief.

He broke away from you with a blaring laugh, shoulders bouncing beneath your grip.

You moved to slap at his chest, but your hand was caught easily, and his laughter only continued. God, you were going to kill this man. Again.

Your face felt obscenely hot, and you could feel a pout overtaking your lips at the sight of him still giggling away in front of you.

“Jinnie,” you whined, choosing to display your discontent by breaking free of his grip and hopping up out of his lap.

Which was definitely not the correct choice, because you swore you could feel the rush of blood through your ears before a strong sense of vertigo washed over you, groan escaping your lips. You were sure you would have fallen face first into the floor if not for Seokjin’s steadying.

“Woah, do you feel okay? This is why I told you to eat,” he sighed, maneuvering you to lay down comfortably on the couch, sticking pillows under your head. “Just stay here and I’ll make food, okay?”

“No, wait, I can make it-”

As you attempted to push back up off the couch, he only gently pushed down with a quiet ‘tsk’ and shake of his head. As you opened your mouth to further protest, he leaned in close, the softness of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Be a good girl and let me take care of you, hm?”

Your breath hitched at his sudden words, only able to stare wide-eyed when he pulled away from you enough to take in your face. The look in his eyes could only be described as devious – amused yet hardened, and you didn’t know if you were imagining the crimson bleeding into the brown of his irises.

“There goes that heartbeat again,” he murmured as though sharing a secret, the tender motion of his hand on your cheek in stark contrast to the want etched into his expression. “You’re going to be so much fun to ruin.”

--

For someone who didn’t really need to eat food to survive (though you’d been told time and time again that eating was fun), Seokjin made one hell of a good cook. Granted, egg fried rice wasn’t the most difficult nor time-consuming dish to make, but that didn’t make it any less tasty. In fact, you were grateful for such a simple and light dish, because you learned quite quickly that after an entire day without food, rushing to eat only brought nausea and discomfort.

Leaning against the armrest of the couch, the inside of your bowl was all you could see with how close you were holding it to your face. In your defence, though, you were greatly disinterested in the possibility of needing to clean a stain from your cushions.

As you took your time eating, Seokjin opted to tidy up a bit, dishes clanging in the kitchen before you heard him rearranging his shoes at the front door.

Thankfully, his efforts included removing the knife from your table and putting it god-knows-where, but you were just glad it was out of your line of sight. Maybe he thought that it was better for your appetite to remove the thing you’d literally pulled out of him.

You tried not to let your mind linger on just how... strange that felt.

He somehow managed to clean up before you’d even finished eating, the couch dipping beside you as he settled into his spot. Vampire speed truly was startling.

If you didn’t have your entire field of vision blocked, you might have noticed Seokjin’s fond look as you ate your meal at what could only be described as a forced snail’s pace. He had to suppress a chuckle at how antsy you seemed to be, clearly wanting to just shovel food into your mouth, but knowing you would only suffer for it. How did one person manage to be so cute and yet so seductive?

When you were done, you set the bowl down on the table with a satisfied sigh, jumping in surprise when a glass of water was placed into your newly-emptied hands almost immediately.

“Thanks,” you smiled shyly, face feeling hot at his attentiveness. You didn’t know how to react at having a man like Kim Seokjin doting on you. It was almost – no, it was – unbelievable, and your poor heart didn’t know how to act. It was one thing to have him kiss you like he was going to devour you, and another to be this sweet and this caring and this soft.

Setting the empty glass next to your empty bowl, you leaned back, unsure of what to do with yourself now that you were entirely unoccupied. Seokjin’s presence beside you made you increasingly aware of the awkward shifting of your hands and your uneasy breathing. He wasn’t that close to you and yet you could smell him – you didn’t know how he managed to make your floral scented shampoo smell sexy.

“Why are you so nervous?” he said lowly, nudging you into his side and tossing an arm around your shoulders. It was a simple move, and yet all you could think was how big he was, how easily he completely enveloped you in his hold.

“I-I’m not nervous,” you stuttered, and you could feel the blood rush to your face. You wondered if he could hear that, too.

A hand lifted your face in his direction, and you were met with an expression that very clearly read ‘are you really going to try lying to a vampire?’

“I don’t know why I’m nervous,” you amended, biting into your lower lip. His gaze followed the motion, eyes clouding over.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly, his thumb raising to release your lip from your teeth, the movement intimate enough to set your stomach aflutter.

“Are we asking that now?” you responded smartly, grinning when Seokjin only huffed a laugh.

“Let me be clearer then,” he said lowly, the abrupt commanding tone having you sit up straighter. “Can I kiss you, strip you, take you to bed, taste that sweet pussy on my tongue, and then fuck you?”

Heat flared in you at the words, your fingernails scratching against his chest before remembering he wasn’t wearing a shirt for you to yank him closer. You settled for making a beeline for his mouth, but a quick movement to grip your hair at the scalp kept you from getting close enough.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, holding you still as he nuzzled his nose against your neck, humming in content when he brushed right against the spot he bit you yesterday. “Tell me yes or no, princess.”

You nodded with what freedom you had left – not much, with how tight his hold on you was, tiny pricks of pain sending sparks up and down your spine. His other hand pulled you closer to him, your hips halfway straddling him as he mouthed at your neck, acting as though he hadn’t noticed your response. It was clear that he was waiting for you to say something.

“Yes,” you said quietly, nearly forgetting what the question was from the way he was sucking softly at your neck. At the scrape of fangs against your skin, you only pushed back against the hand in your hair, exposing more of your neck with a soft sigh.

“You can’t stop thinking about it, can you?” he taunted, pulling you fully on top of him, his hard cock right against your core, and you wished that clothing wasn’t separating you.

He pressed those fangs against the soft skin below your ear, hard enough that the pain had you wincing, but not enough to break skin.

He was teasing you, and you were putty in his hands.

“I can’t stop thinking about it either,” he breathed, tonguing lazily over the stinging marks he left behind. You could only whimper and squirm in his hold, hands tangling in his silken hair. You didn’t know whether you wanted to pull him away or push him closer.

“To have you moaning in rapture right in my lap, so desperate for my cock, the taste of you on my lips...” His voice was so low you could barely hear it, barely process it, but the absolutely lust in his voice only spurred new waves of arousal in you. “Hearing you beg like that, fuck-”

He cut himself off with a sinful moan as he shifted his hips to rub himself right against your cunt, and you shuddered in response.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone so bad,” he sighed, breathing unsteady as he used his grip on you to rock you in time to his movements. “I’ve never had such a test of self-control. Maybe I should punish you.”

This voice was teasing, but your reaction was real, and there was no way to hide the way a moan escaped or the way your nails dug crescents into Seokjin’s smooth skin.

“Oh, you like that, do you?” he chuckled darkly as he leaned his head back into the couch, the grip in your hair tightening even more. A helpless whine left your lips, and you became uncomfortably aware of the way your panties were sticking to your folds.

“Tell me, do you think I should punish you?” he asked, his honeyed voice lulling you into a state you couldn’t even begin to explain with words.

You tried nodding again, hissing at the flash of pain when you tried move your head from his grip.

“Princess, haven’t you learned to use your words? I think I’ll bend you over my knee right here. What do you think about that?”

“Please,” you gasped without hesitation, freezing when you fluttered your eyelids open to meet his gaze.

If you weren’t sure whether his eyes were laced with red before, it was evident now. It only made him all the more enticing, and your vision fell down to his mouth instinctively when he ran his tongue over his teeth. A pang of heat went through you when his fangs bit into his lip, and before you were thinking about it, a hand rose to brush against his mouth.

Your thumb grazed a fang almost reverently, and Seokjin only watched on fondly at the wonderment on your face. You supposed it might have been strange to touch your friend’s – boyfriend’s? – teeth like this, but you had always been curious. Hell, you hadn’t even seen fangs in person before last night. As far as you knew, they only extended when feeding or when feeling strong emotions, and neither tended to be something you could casually see on the street.

You bit at your lip when sharpness pushed into the pad of your finger, but his next words broke you free of your reverie.

“Bend over then.”

He released you from his grip dizzyingly fast, leaning back to watch you.

You were surprised at yourself with how quickly you situated your ass over his lap, the self-consciousness you would’ve expected to be feeling wholly absent. Seokjin was just that captivating.

You wiggled your way into a comfortable position, sticking a cushion under your head. Now that your ass was sticking out right into his view, you felt more vulnerable than ever, knowing that his eyes and ears were trained on your every movement and reaction.

Hands pushed your long shirt up over your hips, fingers trailing lightly over the globes of your ass, separated only by the thin fabric of your shorts. But not for long.

Fingers reached under your waistband and tugged down before you could react, yanking your shorts and panties down in one go.

With air suddenly hitting your sodden pussy, you could feel heat rise to your face at how exposed you found yourself. But any thought of shifting and hiding was erased when you heard Seokjin’s loud groan.

“Shit, you’re soaked, smell so fucking good,” he hissed, fingers reaching to push messily through your folds.

You couldn’t see him putting his fingers in his mouth, but the depraved moan he let out afterward had you squirming in his lap.

After your shorts and panties were pushed onto the floor, a large hand ran tenderly over the skin of your ass, fingers digging in slightly.

“Is ten on each side too much for you?” he asked. There was no hint of teasing in his tone, his voice firm. He continued his soft stroking as he waiting for an answer.

“Uhh... I don’t really know?” you responded meekly. Sure, you had been spanked before, but it was never this... structured? To be honest, you didn’t really know what “a lot” would be in terms of numbers.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “We’ll work our way up and see how it feels. Is that okay?”

You nodded at first, but quickly let out an ‘okay’ when you remembered how firm he was on a proper response.

“This means I’m trusting you to be honest and tell me to stop if it’s too much. I want you to feel good.”

“Okay.”

You released tension you didn’t realize you’d had at his reassurances, allowing your limbs to loosen as you adjusted to lay more comfortably. The sensation of his hands on you made you feel safe and secure, and you knew for a fact that for all his hard words and cold stares, he was still always searching for your approval.

You twitched in surprise as a few light swats came down on each cheek, almost as though he was testing the motion. But after being briefly taken off guard, you relaxed under his hands, body already warming up at each light blow. You barely felt anything aside from a faint sting, but you could already feel your cunt throbbing, anticipation having you dig your nails into the cushion beneath you.

But even despite his preparation, the first real blow had you gasping. Not because it was overly painful – in fact, those pinpricks of pain were laced with pleasure, radiating outward from where his palm had firmly struck you. No, it was more that with the control and precision he showed, another realization struck you at that moment.

He really knew what he was doing.

This wasn’t just a college boyfriend who wanted to experiment with things he saw in porn, or a random bar hookup who thought he was more than he was.

No, Seokjin was the epitome of calculated control, had you eating out of the palm of his hand with one simple word. One look and you were his.

And fuck, if that didn’t make you melt.

You sighed happily as a hit came down on your other asscheek, another wave of arousal soaking your cunt.

“Do you want it harder?” he asked, voice low. The tone felt almost like a personal attack, honeyed words piercing your eardrums.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Yes or no. Don’t just agree to do things because I suggest it,” he scolded, punishing you with a swat to your upper thigh that stung sharper than his previous blows.

“Yes, I want it.”

“Hm,” he hummed, nails scratching over your skin, just barely missing the heat of your core. “I think I would be more convinced if you begged.”

As much as most of your embarrassment had already faded, what with being bent over Seokjin’s lap, it took so much more to put your desires verbally out into the world. But the throbbing in your cunt was fierce, and the warmth from his previous strikes was already fading. And you wanted more.

“Please,” you whined weakly before taking a deep breath to amp yourself up. “Please, Jinnie, I want it harder.”

You barely had time to process the tiny chuckle he let out before his palm came down on you again, the additional force behind it making you shiver despite the warmth that spread through you.

You didn’t know exactly how many more times his hand struck your ass, but your quiet moans were interrupted by his voice once again.

“Harder?”

As much as you felt good, it still wasn’t enough. The sting wasn’t enough, the heat wasn’t enough. You wanted more, needed more.

“Yes, please.”

“Mm, there you go. Maybe I should do this more often if you’re going to be such a good girl for me after.”

He punctuated his statement with a harsh blow to your ass, the strength of it forcing a moan from your lungs. A hand stroked tenderly over where it had struck, before doing the same to the other cheek. You whimpered as you felt another gush of wetness spill from your cunt, squirming as another strike rained down.

Yes, this is what you wanted.

The feeling was heady, your mouth open and allowing all the sounds to spill from your lips. Every cell in your body felt hot, from your fingertips down to your toes. You were certain you must have been making a mess of his lap with how wet you were.

You didn’t realize how heavily you were breathing until the smacks stopped, fingers gently kneading at the raw skin instead. Your skin felt almost burned, but more than anything, you needed those hands to slip between your legs. Now that there was nothing else to distract you, your neglected pussy was desperate for something, anything.

“How are you?” he asked several moments later.

His continued soothing touch dampened the fire of your skin before long, but that only furthered your arousal, shifting in his lap in search of some relief. You itched for some pressure on your clit, but it wasn’t possible in the position he had you in.

“Good,” you breathed, pressing back into his touch.

“Good.” He let his fingers creep ever-so-closer to where you needed him most, rubbing against where your wetness had spread, just beside your outer folds. “I think you deserve a reward. What do you think?”

“Please,” you whined immediately, but luckily, he didn’t seem interested in making you wait any longer. Maybe it was the fact that he had been waiting just as long, or that he was just tired of your constant fidgeting in his lap.

A finger slid in without resistant – unsurprisingly, what with the way you could feel the air hitting your slick skin. Your walls clamped down on the intrusion immediately, and another finger slid down to rub tiny circles onto your clit.

You whined in relief, but Seokjin unfortunately held you down to keep you from thrusting back onto his hand.

“So fucking wet,” he murmured, slipping another finger in when he felt how easily you took the first.

As much as one didn’t feel like enough, two of his fingers was so much bigger than your own. The stretch had you gasping, the friction against your walls and clit making you moan out.

As he scissored his fingers inside of you, the slight burn had you hissing, though the constant ministrations on your clit made sure the pain never became your focus.

“Mm, are you sure you can take my cock?” he mused, smirking at the way you were already whimpering, increasing the pace of his thrusts as your moans got more frequent.

“I can!” you blurted out, sounding almost offended. He had to stifle a laugh. You had always been fun to rile up, and sex was no exception.

“Hm, okay,” he hummed, amusement colouring his tone. You almost called him out on it before his fingers pulled out of you abruptly.

“Jin-”

Before you could question him, beg him to come back, hold him against you – three fingers started easing their way inside of you.

You tensed up almost immediately at the harsher burn at your entrance, the stiffness of your body not doing you much of a favour. He paused all movement at your struggle.

“Relax. I’ll take care of you, okay?”

His words had you feeling more at ease, a reminder that he was here, he wanted you to feel good, and he only kept on making that fact clear.

You made a noise of agreement, forcing your muscles to relax despite how much they wanted to clamp down. You wanted his cock, after all. You could take his fingers.

He took his time with you, slowly easing his fingers in and scissoring them apart, all the while his other hand resting beneath your abdomen, rubbing into your clit. You keened under his continuous murmured praise, moaning as he began to thrust his fingers.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his own breaths beginning to get heavy as he watched you twitch and whine at his hand.

Once the discomfort passed, your pleasure crested ridiculously fast with how long you’ve been waiting to be touched, filled. He stretched you open so wide, and you clenched around his digits at the thought of those fingers being his cock instead.

You were easily giving yourself away with how your walls were clamping down more and more, heavier gasps leaving you. The stroking at your clit wasn’t getting any slower, and soon enough you felt like you were going to snap.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, princess?” he asked roughly, his voice showing an uncharacteristic lack of control as he spread his fingers wide again.

“Please,” you said feebly, all other words having left your available vocabulary long ago. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you, baby.” The crook of his fingers took you by surprise, and with one, two, strokes against that spongy spot within you, you were gone.

Your orgasm stole the breath from your lungs, your legs going weak as waves of bliss hit you everywhere at once. His hands on you didn’t stop their motions, only sending new waves up your spine, shivers wracking your body as you grasped the closest object tightly – your nails digging into the cushion beneath you.

He only stopped when you started to squirm away as pain took over the pleasure, a whimper escaping as his fingers were removed.

If you thought you were getting a moment to breathe, you were wrong.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” he growled.

Before you could blink, you were on your back, his lips attacking yours in a frenzy.

The grip he had on your thigh was sure to bruise, his still-clothed cock rocking into your sensitive pussy as he consumed your every thought, every desire.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, the realization only building the fire that had already been relit within you.

You allowed him to pull the shirt from your body, your skin left completely bare beneath his.

His gaze was somewhere between reverent and demonic, and he looked almost ready to pounce back on you before he paused.

“Bed?” His voice sounded strained, and you thought briefly back to what he said about how much self-control the past day has required from him. You glanced down at the bulge in his pants, and you had to keep yourself from grabbing at it, eager to give him his pleasure the same way he’d done for you.

“Okay.”

You didn’t think your lips formed the second syllable before you were being scooped up, your arms looping around his neck to steady yourself from the abrupt movement.

The walk to the bedroom was somewhat of a blur, your stomach lurching at the speed with which he moved. You’d known the man was quick, but experiencing it firsthand was partly unsettling, and partly... strangely sexy.

Your back hit the sheets with unexpected force, your body bouncing back up from the impact. You’d never considered strength to be such a significant turn-on, but combined with everything else about him, it seemed to make Seokjin the most dangerously attractive man you’ve ever encountered.

You thought you were about to get fucked into the mattress – the hunger in Seokjin’s stare only cementing the thought – but it seemed that he had other ideas.

“Jin-”

You were about to beg him to touch you, fuck you, do literally anything – when his hands wrapped around your ankles, spreading your legs apart enough that you could begin to feel the strain in your thighs.

The way he was gazing at your fully exposed core almost made you self-conscious before you took in the way his breathing was heavier than you’d ever seen it, the crimson completely having taken over the brown of his irises.

“I have – I have to taste you,” he groaned.

He sprung on you in an instant, plush lips wrapping around your clit and sucking before his tongue moved down to lap at your arousal.

While you were still a bit sensitive from your last orgasm, the discomfort was nothing in comparison to the bliss lighting up your nerves. You were a slave to pleasure under his tongue, hands holding you down as you attempted to buck up into him instinctively.

His tongue attacked you like a man starved, his unabashed moans into your heat leaving you gasping.

But as much as he was successfully making you lose your mind, you didn’t want to cum like this.

“Jin, fuck-” you whimpered, body aching to grind up into his face despite your next words.

He only hummed into your pussy at your noises, motions not pausing whatsoever.

“Fuck me, please,” you begged, a hand winding into his hair in an attempt to pull him off you.

You almost thought he was pretending not to hear you when he didn’t react straightaway, but not long after, he pulled off of you.

He didn’t even say a word in response, only shucking off his pants and boxers with a heaving chest.

You swore your pussy throbbed when you saw his cock, only moreso when he fisted it with a hiss, lips that were glistening with your arousal widening to reveal sharp white fangs.

“I have to be inside you right fucking now,” he snarled, dragging your body down by the thighs to meet him where he knelt.

You felt almost feverish, your hands reaching to yank Seokjin by the shoulders, the need to be closer taking over your every thought.

He kissed you frantically as the head of his cock rubbed against your clit, your back arching up into him, his closeness still not close enough for you.

You were so close to pleading with him not to draw this out, but he settled himself against your entrance, his other arm supporting himself by your head. When he started to push in, you could only whimper.

You knew he was big when he grasped himself in his hand only moments before, but for all his preparation, it felt like you were being split open.

You clung onto his biceps as he rocked himself forward at a snail’s pace, nails digging into his skin as you clamped down on him reflexively. It burned, but you wanted it so bad. As much as the discomfort was intense, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, unable to stop panting into Seokjin’s mouth.

You whined as he nibbled at your bottom lip, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles into your thigh, the other in your hair. But when you felt fangs puncture your lip ever-so-slightly before he sucked it into his mouth, all breath was stolen from you.

It was only the smallest fraction of the pleasure you felt the night before, but that was enough to have your head thrown back, hips raising to meet Seokjin’s.

It almost seemed that he wasn’t expecting you to thrust upward onto him, a strangled groan leaving his throat as you shoved more of him inside you.

The stretch remained overwhelming, but the pain felt like a distant memory, new arousal making the glide smoother.

“Good?” he gasped against your collarbone, hot breaths hitting your skin as his hair brushed against your face. The arm holding him up was trembling at your side, the fingers on your thigh tightening their hold as if to physically hold himself together.

Part of you just wanted him to lose control.

“So good,” you moaned, shoving your hips up again, volume increasing exponentially when he allowed you to push him in to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he growled, arm moving to form a bruising grip on your other thigh, his chest moving away from yours. “Are you that desperate for it?”

The question was accompanied by a sharp snap of his hips that sent you reeling, too breathless for any sound to escape.

He spread your thighs apart even further, a hand beneath your left knee lifting your leg towards his chest.

The next quick thrust hit you even harder at that angle, a choked-out whine escaping you. Your fingers dug into the sheets as he ground himself into you, your pussy feeling split so overwhelmingly wide.

You were wound up so tight, you thought you were going to go crazy. It was impossible to think straight when he only did quick snaps of his hips at random intervals. You didn’t think you’d ever been hornier than this moment, and you swore you could feel the arousal leaking from your cunt.

You could see sparks of light behind your eyelids with how tightly you had them shut. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, the flesh still tender from Seokjin’s bite.

His thrusts became slow and deep, tiny gasps leaving your open mouth.

“Look at me,” he snarled suddenly, the sheer command in his voice sending shivers up your spine, gaze snapping onto him immediately. It took a moment for your vision to focus properly, still drowning in the sensation of his cock still moving within you.

If you thought he looked fierce, hungry, dangerous – you were his polar opposite.

To put it simply, you were a mess.

You were too lost in it all to notice the stutter in his hips when he locked eyes with you, but he almost stopped breathing entirely.

Your eyes were glazed over in pleasure, the tears just beginning to gather there only making their colour all the more enticing. Your expression was slack, and it looked like you couldn’t decide between clamping down on your bottom lip or leaving your mouth wide-open. You looked so vulnerable, so willing to put all of your trust in him to take care of you, make you feel good.

And fuck, if it wasn’t the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

His movements after that caught you off guard, his abrupt rough thrusting engulfing your body in flames of bliss, loud moan leaving you. As much as holding his gaze made everything feel so much more intense, you just couldn’t. Your head fell back onto the pillow, back arching as much as he would allow you to move in his tight hold.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice sounding almost helpless and he continued his movements, his arms the only thing keeping you from shifting up the mattress. As his gasps transitioned to groans and then loud moaning, you could feel yourself nearing your peak again.

He slowed his movements, the heavy panting reaching your eardrums and having you clench around him instinctively. The choked-out groan in response told you he was close, too.

“Jin,” you called out, the word so breathy that you almost didn’t recognize it despite it coming from your own lips.

You raised an arm to weakly grab at his body, hoping he got the message himself. You wanted him close, but highly doubted that you could manage to form the words right now.

Luckily, he seemed to know exactly what you wanted, dropping your leg and moving to hover over you, your breasts brushing his chest. He started thrusting slowly again, his head dropping to your collarbone as a hand wound into the hair at your scalp.

With him right on top of you, his pubic bone was brushing against your clit, the added stimulation having you whine loudly and dig your nails harshly into the skin of his back.

He didn’t seem to mind, a loud groan leaving him as he started mouthing at your neck, sucking bruises into the flesh.

But when you felt fangs briefly scrape over your skin, only one thought came to mind and refused to leave.

You wanted it, wanted his fangs to sink into you, wanted to feel that again. Now.

“Bite me,” you whimpered, pushing your head into the pillow and arching your back, eager to give him free reign as your orgasm inched closer and closer.

You expected him to protest, expected him to deny you, expected him to pull away.

But he did none of those things.

Instead, fangs sunk deeply into your neck with a feral growl, almost as soon as he heard the words leave your lips.

That same immense burst of pain rendered you motionless for a split second before that all-consuming euphoria descended on you.

You vaguely registered Seokjin moaning loudly above you as his hips stuttered, his lips locked on your neck. But you felt almost disconnected from the world, as though every nerve in your body was firing, your cunt pulsating around him as you reached the strongest high you’d ever felt.

It felt almost instinctual to grip at his back tightly, pulling him close, as if he’d ever want to leave. You didn’t even realize how loud you were being, your peak only going higher and higher, to the point of being overwhelming.

Tears streamed from where your eyes were clamped shut, moans turning into sobs as Seokjin ground against your overstimulated clit, your pussy clenched around him tightly.

You were so far gone you didn’t even notice the warmth spilling into you as he groaned loudly into your skin, his movements slowing before he pulled his mouth from you.

The crash was almost immediate, exhaustion and soreness taking over your limbs as you gasped for breath, the hands on Seokjin’s back falling limp. It felt like all the strength was sapped from your body, your consciousness half-absent.

You thought you heard Seokjin fussing over you, his hands wiping tears from your face, but to be honest, it was all a blur. He disconnected with you easily despite your mumbled protests, dropping a kiss on your forehead with a soft command not to move. You didn’t think you were capable of such a thing anyway.

You hardly registered his absence before he was back with a wet cloth. You didn’t know if that was because of his speed or because you were too tired to pay attention.

The next thing you knew, he had rolled you to lay on top of him, your face tucked into his neck as he stroked at your back. Normally, you might have complained about how much colder he was than you, but your skin was still so heated that the coolness was a relief.

You could tell that he was saying something quietly, unsure whether he was asking you something or not. His voice only brought you warm comfort, your arm moving to wrap around his waist.

You honestly weren’t too sure how long you laid there until your senses started coming back to you, but the hand on your back never stopped its soothing motions. The realization made you strangely embarrassed, wondering how long you’ve been out of it.

“Did I fall asleep?” you mumbled, nuzzling into the softness of Seokjin’s neck.

“Not really, it hasn’t been too long,” he responded, though the way he paused made it seem that he had more to say. It took a few moments before he got the words out. “Did I go too hard? Was it too much?”

Despite the low volume of his voice, he sounded almost frantic, and your brows furrowed. Why was he so worried?

“Of course not. I asked you for it, I knew exactly what I was getting into.”

He sighed heavily, his hands on you pausing. “I know, I just – I got worried when you were barely responding to me. I guess I was just afraid that you would be scared of me after.”

You felt a tinge of guilt at his concern, but logically it was nobody’s fault. As much as you wanted to take his face in your hands and tell him that you don’t regret anything and there wasn’t a world where you could ever be scared of him, you doubted your ability to do so right now. Instead, you hoped that simple reassurance could be enough.

“I loved it,” you said plainly, sleepiness clear in your voice. You were fighting past the fog in your brain to talk to him, wanting to make sure he knew where you stood.

“I loved it too,” he whispered before bringing up the blanket to cover both of you. “You sound tired. Why don’t we sleep?”

“Wait.”

“Hm?” he hummed in response, his confused expression hid from your view.

“Are you my boyfriend?” Your words sounded almost slurred with how close you were to unconsciousness, but his chest bouncing as he chuckled told you that he heard you just fine.

You were dangerously close to dreamland, but you caught his answer right before you fell asleep in his arms.

“Yeah, I’m your boyfriend.”

[sylvies-chen]

Taking a nap together on the couch + Brettsey

They don't really intentionally keep their relationship secret from the house and yet somehow, it manages to get out in the most awkward way possible.

She's in the break room while on shift. It's starting to get late, the sky outside turning from deep blue to pitch black as they relish in their free time between calls. Stella rifles for a late night snack in the fridge, Gallo and Ritter play a game of cards (too tired for their usual bickering too, which Sylvie's grateful for), Herrmann and Mouch are in the brief room using the spare time to go over some finances for Molly's. The Squad guys are out at their table on the app floor which just leaves Violet scrolling through her phone at the table. It's one of those wonderfully mundane and quiet moments, the ones that occur rarely in their line of work but never go unappreciated. Which means Sylvie doesn't waste a second before sitting herself in front of the TV and re-watching some good old fashioned House Hunters.

"Mind if I join you?" She hears Matt's voice coming from next to her and her head whips around to meet his eye.

"Hey," she beams. "I thought you'd be in your office."

"Nah, the paperwork was getting boring so I thought I'd see what you were up to," he shrugs.

"Well please, have a seat."

He sits next to her and looks over his shoulder. No one's paying attention, too tired or too caught up in their own lives to care, so Matt risks it and slings his arm over her shoulders, his elbow resting on the back of the couch as his hand rubs circles on her far shoulder. They don't normally do public displays of affection in the common room but no one's really paying attention anyway so Sylvie lets her heart race, doesn't bother fighting the giddy smile that spreads across her face.

"They're going to see," Sylvie points out quietly.

"It's not like we're trying to keep this a secret, right? If they find out, they find out."

"Fair," she shrugs, because she can't argue with that logic. They hadn't exactly wanted to make a big deal out of announcing it but they didn't want to sneak around either so they'd agreed to take a more laissez-faire approach. Let things happen naturally, she'd suggested. So she gnaws at her lip, leans her head on Matt's shoulder and sighs happily.

"A late-night House Hunters binge?" Matt asks. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Predictability never killed anyone," she argues. "Besides, I'm too tired to focus on anything new right now. I just need something easy, something fun."

"It has been a pretty exhausting shift so far," he agrees. "I'm surprised we've had so much quiet time tonight. But if you're tired then maybe you should go to the bunk room, get some shut-eye."

"No, no way," she insists, stifling a yawn. "We're just getting to the good part. Look! They're just about to do the dream home reveal to this sweet married couple."

She shifts her head, burying it further into Matt's shoulder as she makes herself comfortable. Matt keeps rubbing circles on her arm briefly before his hand moves to pull her in closer and then grab her hand. Their fingers gently intertwine, gripped together as loosely as possible. It's so warm and comforting and a wave of fatigue washes over her. Suddenly, it registers to her how late it is. The TV in front of her starts to look blurry and she's snuggling in so close to Matt's side that they start to slant so everything looks crooked. She gives her head a gentle shake to try and keep herself awake but it's useless. Her body is finally caving to the fatigue. She feels Matt's breathing slow down as the rise and fall of his chest against her cheek becomes gentler, and thinks he's getting pretty tired himself.

Man, she's really tired. Maybe they should both get some shut-eye, if only for a five minutes. Yeah, only five minutes...

The sound that wakes her up isn't the same raspy voice of her boyfriend she finds herself next to most mornings. Instead, it's an abrupt clearing of a throat. Her eyes squeeze further shut for a second, registering the sound with confusion before opening them slowly. Everything still looks really blurry, and she can't make out her surroundings.

The first thing Sylvie notices is that she's completely horizontal. Like, her whole body-- and Matt's-- is stretched out across the couch. That, she certainly didn't intend to do. The second thing she notices is the TV that's still running but blocked by a figure. It's the source of the throat-clearing, she thinks. After she nuzzles her in Matt's chest to wake him up too, she rubs at her eyes to clear her vision and attempts to sit somewhat upright without pushing Matt right off the couch. Matt groans next to her but slowly wakes up too, sitting up and giving more space to do the same. When they both do though, horror and shock strikes over their faces.

Mouch stands in front of them, Herrmann off to the side but still watching with an amused grin on his face. Sylvie feels her eyes widen like a deer in headlights and her muscles completely freeze up. Suddenly, she's very awake.

Because things can never go completely smoothly for Sylvie, can they?

"You two are in my spot," Mouch points out after a while, pointing to the end of the couch where his pillow is being covered by hers and Matt's feet.

She blushes, looks over to Matt and sees that his cheeks are redder than hers, and winces awkwardly. "Right, sorry," she offers meekly, her hand resting on Matt's shoulder as they both sit up and shift to the other end of the couch.

Her hand instinctually finds Matt's and their fingers interlock, more firmly this time. They give each other a glance as if to say shit, did this really just happen? Then their eyes turn to Mouch, who's now sitting next to them, and to Herrmann who's still standing next to the glowing TV.

"You two are together?" Mouch asks as he settles into his usual spot.

"Yeah," Matt admits.

"Good for you guys," he nods casually. "Just don't nap in my spot next time. I get the temptation-- believe me, no one likes napping on the job more than Randy McHolland-- but the embroidered pillow is here for a reason."

The others are looking too, but are either giving small approving grins or just minding their business. Sylvie smiles a little, even fights back a laugh. Because of course the only thing Mouch is worried about is his spot. What else would it be? Her worries about the house finding out were useless and it's sort of hilarious.

"How long were we out?" Sylvie asks.

"Half an hour, give or take," Mouch responds.

Her eyes go wide for a second time. "And you didn't wake us?"

"Why would we? The bells didn't go off and you both looked so peaceful. It would have been like kicking a puppy," Herrmann argues.

"Ok that's it," she sighs, turning to Matt. "I'm never napping on the job again. Like, ever. Your chest is too comfortable, you know that?"

He furrows his brows and retracts his neck in confused skepticism. "So this is my fault now?" He asks teasingly.

"Yes, 100%," she confirms with a nod, saving face as she sticks her nose up in the air.

"Ah, welcome to the club, Casey," Herrmann says with a chuckle and a grin that looks a little too excited. "Get used to sleeping on couches."

"It's true," Mouch adds. "It's just like me and Trudy, and Herrmann and Cindy. Get used to it, pal. The woman will always be right. It'll always be your fault. There's no way out of it."

Sylvie doesn't know how they got from being chastised to being compared to two solid married couples, but it causes a flutter in her chest as Matt blushes and chuckles.

Who knows: maybe sleeping on the job isn't so bad, right?

[kiame-sama]

🥀Beauty and The Beast (Yandere!Uvogin x Reader)(Lemon)🥀

Feast, my Lovies~! Feast! @ramwrites @luesi @prettycutebunny @cherry-witcher

Warnings; Lemon ahead, dirty talk, yandere behavior, yandere tendencies, yandere relationship, Uvogin is hung like a horse, cute moments, animalistic behavior, Oral, pillow theft, and the agreed upon comfiest position to be fucked.

You lay in your quiet room on the large bed you often shared with your lover. He was absent at the moment, meaning you had the whole bed to yourself. Of course, that also meant you didn't have your large heater and comfortable bear hug either.

Even with the giant bed all to yourself, it felt more empty than usual as you found yourself cuddling into your lover's pillow. His masculine and overwhelming scent covered his side of the bed and it soothed you to have that bit of familiarity. Wrapping your arms and legs around the pillow that you held firmly in your grasp, you were content to sleep.

A sudden flash of light drew you from your deep slumber, making you sleepily respond in a whine of confusion. Blearily blinking open your eyes, you yelped with a sudden shot of fear as you saw the looming shape standing over you. The deep and familiar chuckle gave you pause as you focused on the dark visage more intensely, seeing the familiar grin of your lover.

"Uvo, don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry, Princess. You were way too cute and innocent to not take a picture for later."

A red blush enflamed your face as he turned the screen of his phone to show you the photo he had taken. You were clinging to the pillow much like a koala would, cheek pressed firmly against the soft bedding. Your face was peaceful and it looked like he had been holding the blanket up to get a good shot of your whole body.

"You're cute as hell when you sleep, you know that? So adorable and soft squished up on the pillow."

The large man was still grinning as you pouted, knowing he was going to tease you relentlessly about it. Taking the pillow with you, you slid over to your side of the bed so Uvogin could sit down and join you. After a moment of hearing clothes shuffling and dropping, you felt the large man lay on the bed next to you.

"That's my pillow, you thief."

"Mine now."

"Oh, really? What would it take to get it back, Princess?"

"Hmm... A back rub?"

You didn't miss the gleam of mischief in his eyes in response to your suggestion. Usually, it didn't take long for you and Uvogin to wind up messing around when he got back from his 'business trips' far away from home. The man was near impossible to resist and the problem was that he knew it too.

You always enjoyed his return even if it usually leaves you bed-bound due to the intense nature of the reconnecting session of love-making. He said it was business trips he was going on every time he disappeared, but you knew him better than that. Uvogin was not the kind of man to settle for some pencil-pushing job or a completely domestic lifestyle.

As far as you figured, it was likely something to do with a gang or crime organization given just how often Uvo returned with new marks om his sun-kissed skin. You knew better than to ask, so you just left it at that, content to be in the dark regarding what it was exactly that Uvo did. Any benefit that may come from knowing the truth was completely overshadowed by the risk.

When you turned over to lay in a more comfortable position, Uvogin was already on top of you. His large hands pressed in the best spots with just enough force that you almost moaned in delight. His hands were rough to the touch but he was still wonderfully gentle on your sore flesh.

You couldn't stop the desperate mewl that left your lips when he pressed on a particularly stubborn knot. The whining moan made Uvogin chuckle, knowing you were aching for attention after a few days given how much he usually gave you.

"Already? You gonna cum just from my hands, Princess?"

His low voice was a husky rumble in his throat against your body, feeling something large and warm slowly sliding up and down your back. He gripped your shoulder, moving you onto your back underneath him. He only gained more confidence than he already had now that he could see your burning blush and pleasured expression.

No doubt, it was intimidating being underneath the large man, especially given the heavy cock laying between your breasts. His large hands came up to cup your breasts and press them together around his straining length. It was clear he was starting to get lost in his own haze of pleasure, licking his lips.

"I know you can't take all of me into that little throat of yours just yet, but you can take the tip just fine."

He watched you hungrily as you leaned your head towards the bulbous tip, taking the head of his large cock into your mouth. The moan that ripped through his lips was only made more pronounce by the sharp buck of his hips, forcing more of his length into your mouth. The combination of the friction from your soft breasts with the wetness of your warm mouth was enough to make precum start leaking from the hot cock in your mouth.

"Mmm... Fuck. Just keep looking up at me, (y/n). I'm gonna show you who you belong to..!"

You could only whine and hum around the head of that large cock as he thrust his hips against your soft breasts. He let out loud unabashed moans, gritting his teeth as he stared down into your lightly watering eyes. A grin pulled at his lips when your hands came to rest on his hips, your nails biting down into his flesh but barely noticeable to him as he pounded away.

"Ngh..! Gonna cum in your throat-! Fuck..! Have you ride my face so I can eat as much of you as I want..! Fucking starving..."

You rubbed your legs together for some kind of friction as you tried to breathe between each rough thrust. You were more than a bit hot and bothered given the appeal of the large man riding your chest. It almost seemed like you could feel his heartbeat through the shaft of his cock deep in your chest, leaving you breathless.

You knew he was close to cumming when you felt his thighs tense, putting pressure against your ribs. His pace slightly faltered as he let out a deep moan, thrusting as far forward as he could and shooting his hot seed into your throat. He was only slightly panting at that point, already mostly recovered from his orgasm and ready for another.

You gasped deeply as he pulled away from your chest and out of your mouth, giving you a moment to rest. Uvogin let out a pleased hum of satisfaction, as if he had been pent up and waiting for that moment of release to be able to relax.

"Come on, Princess, I know you have more than that in you. Up. I want my dinner."

You yelped when he lifted you up and set you so you were kneeling on the bed, clearly not wanting to wait any longer for you. You shivered slightly from the sudden cold on your back instead of warm blankets, but even that didn't matter once Uvogin lay back with his head between your thighs. That's the thing about Uvogin; if he says he's starving, he's gonna eat like he's starving.

"A-ah, Uvo~!"

You yelped and squeaked with pleasure, as each tongue stroke was stronger than the last. A wet noise met your ears, paired with the slurps and moans of bliss from the large man beneath you. There was no question to if Uvogin was enjoying himself, his desperate grip on your thighs and the way he pulled you down to smother him was enough. His deep moans only made sinfully delicious vibrations hum through your body, feeling every time he sucked your clit into his mouth.

You had reached the point of gasping and panting breathlessly, your voice already up several octaves. The constant pleasure shooting through your body quickly began to feel like it was too much, frying your already abused nerves. No matter how you tried to pull away for a moment of rest, those large and heavy hands held you securely in place.

You felt your entire body tense up as the electrifying pleasure suddenly broke loose, scrambling your nerves. You reached a much higher pitch as you cried out in bliss, needing something to channel your energy into. After you nearly screamed your voice out, Uvogin let you pull your overstimulated and pulsing pussy away so you could have a moment to recover.

"Mmm~ Best damn meal I've had in days..."

You were still shivering and gasping lightly as the large man grinned, licking his lips much like a predator would after a feast. He sat up slowly, clearly getting hard again when he saw your blushing and flustered form, curled up by the pillows.

He moved up the bed slowly, gripping your soft hips and pulling you towards him with that grin that meant trouble. You were about to let out a breathless complaint before you found yourself on your knees, chest resting comfortably against the bed with your hips raised up. Probably Uvogin's favorite way to take you, and likely one of the most comfortable ways to take him.

He had stamina that far outclassed your own and it took some time to fully satisfy the beast of a man. Being able to lay on the bed and just let him go wild on you was always good, and the fact he could fully get himself inside of you due to the angle was an added bonus. It also made it easier and safer for you to just bliss out as he jackhammered into you for hours on end.

"Ready for more, Princess?"

"Ple-please, Uvo..."

"Please, what? Tell me what you want."

"Just fuck me senseless, Uvogin! I need you in me right now!"

"So demanding."

Despite his teasing, he positioned himself behind you, slightly raising your hips given how tall he was. You gripped tightly at the sheets, feeling his large length slide into you inch by inch. As desperate as you were for him to just fuck your brains out, you appreciated the slow way he eased into you.

He was NOT a small man and his cock was just like him; big, thick, and intimidating.

Once he was fully seated inside of you, you mewled pathetically, wanting him to start moving. He let out a low hum of amusement as he watched you squirm, trying to move your hips enough to get some of that delicious friction. With a relaxed pace, he slowly pulled out of you until he nearly completely left you before slamming back in.

"You're so damn spoiled. You know that?"

"Ah~ Yes, Uvo~!"

"Good girl."

His pace remained that torturous slow rhythm for longer than you wanted, a long whine escaping your lips. You couldn't see his face, but you knew he had that wide grin of his. Each slow drag of his large cock inside of you making you jerk with pleasure.

Just as you opened your mouth to whimper at him to go faster, he suddenly increased his tempo and he began to pound into you. You felt your legs give an involuntary jerk with every increasingly paced thrust, his large cock rubbing up against every sweet spot you had. He knew your body like his own, and you fit beautifully around him.

"(Y/n)..! So good! Your little pussy is so damn good! All mine... No one else gets to fuck your tight cunt, only me."

"Only you!"

"My spoiled little Princess..."

Each of his heavy thrusts into you made you moan out in pleasure, relaxing in his grip and allowing him to move your hips as he pleased. It was just as well, you felt boneless already in his grasp so you truly doubted you could do much other than lay back. Like a winding pressure in your body, you felt your orgasm creeping up with alarming speed.

The increased tightening around his cock made it clear to Uvogin just how close you were. He adjusted his grip to press his hand against your lower stomach, feeling the moving bulge of his cock inside of you. The pressure his warm hand put on your body made his constant thrusting feel even more intense to your heightened senses. You were gasping for each breath now as your eyes involuntarily rolled back.

You managed to get enough of a breath in before the growing pleasure snaps, washing over you in waves of bliss as you cry your little heart out in ecstasy. Every following movement making your entire body jerk as you rode out your orgasm with Uvogin pounding relentlessly into you. You got your only reprieve when he tensed up, growling out a long and baritone moan as each pulse of his cum painted your soft insides.

Just as he had before, he quickly recovered from his orgasm while you were still floundering in pleasure. His grin was downright feral as he gave little bucks of his hips, watching your cute reactions.

"Try and save that sweet voice of yours, you're in for a long night."

As he began to move with full strokes once more, you were content to lose yourself to the bliss that returned in full force. Some part of you felt badly for your neighbors, but you honestly couldn't find it in you to care. Uvogin's deep moans and grunts of pleasure mixed rather wonderfully with your own lighter and breathier mewls, knowing he would make damn good on his words.

Well, looks like you won't be walking any time soon.

[cora-vizsla]

I miss Paz and Cabur too! ❤

I've really been into soft lately and I saw a couple soft prompts that I really like because they're about admiration and Paz can say them to Cabur and vise versa.

I feel like I could watch you all day. Everything you do has a touch of magic to it.

I sometimes wish you could see yourself through my eyes.

Please don't feel obligated to write anything if you don't feel inspired.

Paring: Female!reader (Cabur) x Paz Vizsla

Rating: Uh, teen maybe? Nothing explicit.

Warnings: Fluff. Like your teeth are rotting out this is so sweet fluff.

AN: I'm gonna try to do this without any angst. Let's see if I am capable of it. (Okay I kind of failed there was a touch of angst in there but not between our two favorite love birds)

Your least favorite part of your job was going different places to meet with new groups. Din wanted all Mandalorian to feel welcome on Mandalore and that was a chore in and of itself. He trusted you the most to be able to work through any situation that could arise and knew you were more than competent in taking care of yourself should you need to. That didn't stop Paz from putting everything on hold to make sure he went with you. Part of you was annoyed that it seemed like he didn't trust you to take care of yourself, but Din reminded you that you would be with him if the roles were reversed.

Paz stood in the back of the meeting hall with his arms crossed over his chest. Any time voices were raised towards you, your eyes glanced over to make sure he didn't have his blaster drawn. Most of the meetings were calm but there were a few of the leaders of different clans that were defensive about needing to follow a Mandalore that they had never met.

"I understand your hesitance. The Mandalorian have been driven apart time and time again. All I am asking is that you send delegation to the planet. You can see first hand the work we have put into rebuilding our planet so that all Mandalorian can thrive the way we should be."

"And how do we know this isn't a trap? You're a child of the watch."

"A child of the watch that is here asking for peace. You think I would have sat down with you if I wanted war? Don't mistake my civility as weakness. I am a warrior just as you are."

"I can't even see your face."

"No. There are only two people in this galaxy that can see my face because I choose to live my life that way. I do not think less of you for taking your helmet off. I ask for that same respect."

The warrior stood up but his partners hand shot out, grabbing his arm. He instantly sat down and looked at them. You had known the warrior in question wasn't the one in charge but hadn't quite put your mind to recognizing the smaller pregnant Mando next to him was in charge.

"Do you have children?"

You nodded once and relax back into your chair.

"I do. A daughter. My riduur and I took her in when her village was attacked."

"Does your clan respect foundlings?"

"They are our greatest asset. There is no future without them. Our Mandalore risked his entire life and creed to protect his foundling. He didn't fight to take the dark saber for power; he was protecting his ad'ika."

Their leader nodded once and sat back.

"It is decided then. I will go. I trust that you are comfortable with me bringing an escort."

"You may bring the entire clan if it was what you want. We only want you to see what we have created and offer you all a place there."

The warrior huffed but stood up to help his partner. She motioned for him to leave with everyone else, staying in front of you.

"You risked your life coming here."

"I understand that."

"Is that why your guard has been staring at you the entire time?"

You laughed and nodded, smiling under your helmet at Paz.

"That is Paz Vizsla, my riduur."

She turned and gave Paz a soft smile which was met with a nod. She turned back to you and placed her hand on her belly.

"I will be honest, part of me is being selfish with going to see the planet."

"Is there something wrong?"

"I am force sensitive. I always have been but I had people who could help train me. I was trained to keep it quiet and hidden away. I don't want that for her."

"You know it's a girl?"

"I do. I can feel her thoughts just like she can feel mine. I have heard rumor you have a Jedi temple there."

You nodded and smiled.

"Our Mandalore has a foundling that is force sensitive. He sent him away with the Jedi to be trained so he would be safe. We arranged to have the temple moved to our city so that families could still be connected with this children, regardless if they follow our creed or not."

"That is wonderful."

"I can arrange for you to meet with Master Skywalker on your visit. Although I am sure he will sense the moment you touch down. Force sensitives are welcome there. Everyone is that believes in our cause."

"Thank you. Let me show you to your lodging for the night. No need to leave right away. It's been a long day."

You nodded and followed the woman, Paz moving to walk next to you. He gently touched his hand on the small of your back making you look up at him. Even without seeing him, you just knew he was smiling down at you. The leader stopped in front of a large tent and smiled at both of you.

"There is food, supplies and a fire set up for you. Please let anyone you find know if you need something. We can hash out the final preparations for our visit in the morning. I'd like to follow you back if that is okay."

"Sounds wonderful."

You walked into the tent and sighed as Paz shut the flaps and tied them shut. He walked over to you and pulled your helmet off, cupping the side of your face.

"I am exhausted."

"You did wonderfully, mesh'la."

"I feel like I argued all day."

"You did but for the right cause. I'm not sure I could have stayed that calm with that di'kut spouting his mouth off constantly."

You huffed out another sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed, putting your face in your hands.

"What is wrong, ner riddur?"

"This just feels hopeless. Every time we find more of our people it is just a fight to move on from he past."

"Is that what you think is happening?"

"I know it is. I'm exhausted from all of it."

"That isn't what I see. I see you fighting for a cause that you believe in. I see you building a future for all the children, even the ones not born yet. You're one of the strongest warriors I know and yet here you are using your words to bring us all together. I feel like I could watch you all day. Everything you do has a touch of magic to it."

He pulled your hands off your face and you saw that he no longer had his helmet on now that he was kneeling in front of you. You smiled at him and let yourself relax slightly.

"I sometimes wish you could see yourself through my eyes."

"I probably wouldn't like what I see."

"Impossible, ner kar'taylir darasuum" (my love)

"Wonder if the other warriors would be as afraid of you if they knew what a sap you are."

"A sap that would rip them to pieces just for looking at you wrong."

You smiled fully as he leaned in to kiss you. Once he pulled away you started to pull his armor off, stacking it neatly at the end of the bed. He watched you intently, a soft smile on his face until you both had your armor off.

"Let's get some sleep."

"How about you lay down so I can bring you some food. Then we can lay in this giant bed together until you fall asleep."

You hummed playfully and made a face like you were thinking.

"I guess that is okay."

"You guess? That's how it is?"

You giggled as he picked up you and tossed you back down on the bed making you laugh even harder.

"Just lay there, ad'ika. Let me take care of you."

"Don't need you to."

"I know."

"But it feels nice to know that you always will."

"Until my dying breath, mesh'la."

Tag List

@mapplestrudel @computeringturtle @the-lady-of-stars @mrsdaamneron @janelongxox

[kominum]

rewatching old sailor moon and thought of like... disgruntled tuxedo mask!corpse but with unrequited love because i’m a glutton for angst

wc: ~2.2k 

warnings: death of a minor character, implicit knowledge of sailor moon lore, modern twist, unedited

please send in ideas you might have that i could write short blurbs for! this was honestly fun to write. 

It’s a scratch he can’t itch. It’s what has him waking up in cold sweats, confused and moderately annoyed that his hard-earned sleep has been so rudely interrupted. He hates the cape, he hates the itchy suit, he abhors the top hat – and the only things he doesn’t really hate are his baton and endless supply of darkened roses.

The first time he transformed, he was half-asleep and struggling to understand why he was speeding down the highway and parking two blocks away from some random back alley. His pain was relatively dulled, which was surprising, and his body suddenly possessed a world of fighting skills that felt foreign yet familiar. All he could recognize was a slightly disheveled woman cursing and just trying her best against some odd form of demon spawn, and before he knew it, he’d thrown down a dark purple rose and engaged in combat. Once said woman found an opening, she took off her headband/tiara, performed a throw that would put professional frisbee players to shame, and the monster disintegrated into dust.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted, body hunched over and hands on his knees. “What the fuck was that?”

“More like who the fuck are you?”

“Fuck if I know,” he muttered and dusted himself off.  

“What’s with your get-up anyways?” She failed to hide her snickering. “You’re 3 decades behind.”

“Do I look like I want to fight in a suit? Plus, you’re fighting in some rendition of a schoolgirl uniform.” Her black thigh-high boots were killer, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

“You should’ve seen what it was before, but I was able to make some changes. Good heads-up for you and—”

“Sailor Moon, are you okay?!”

Oh. So she’s got a talking cat, too. What in fresh hell was going on? Did he take something? But also—“Your name is Sailor Moon?”

“We’re working on the name change,” she grumbled, bending down to let said feline jump up her arm and settle on her shoulder. “Anyways, uh…thanks. I was kind of in a bind, but I’m usually not I swear. Good timing, I guess?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it.” But she was already in the wind, hopping from roof to roof with no inhibitions, and left him completely dumbfounded.

His silly attire dissolved back into his previous clothing as he ambled back towards his car, thought not exactly at his own will. But he shrugged, slid into the car seat, and dialed the only person he could think of who would readily pick up at this ungodly hour of…2:37AM. That was just the start, and he can’t tell if things went downhill from there.

-

He should backtrack.

He met you almost two years ago at a hospital.

You had been waiting anxiously for your boyfriend to come out of surgery after being in a bad car accident, biting your nails, occasionally pacing back and forth, smoothing your hands worriedly against your jeans, and gnawing your bottom lip to death. It was midday, sometime after lunch, and he’d come in for some routine checkup he can’t remember what for now, and sat a few seats away from you in the tiny hospital coffee shop. He’s no therapist or expert, but he highly doubted that any caffeine would alleviate your anxiety. Yet you sat there with two to-go cups and a granola bar wrapper, and something told him to stick around for now.

He’s never been one for a lot of small talk, but you looked to be about his age and no one else was with you. Tragedy tasted most bitter when alone, and some force of the universe told him to at least say something, anything. So he stuffed his hands into his hoodie and shuffled awkwardly to your table, tentatively asking a, “Hey, uh…is everything okay?”

You’d looked up at him with wild eyes on the verge of tears, heart battering against your chest, and the only intelligible thing that left your mouth was a “Huh?”

And he’d casted a gentle grin, eyes laced with a mixture of pity and concern, and asked again his first question. “My boyfriend’s in surgery. He got in a bad accident. There’s um…roughly two hours left, I think.”

“And you thought coffee would make it better?” He jutted his chin towards your large cups.

“Hot chocolate,” you chuckled. “I’m not keen on torturing myself like that, not now at least.”

“Well, I’ve got an appointment soon but I should be done before his surgery’s over…want me to come check up on you?”

Dumbfounded was the best way to describe your expression, and he was so close to retracting his offer before you gave him one of the most thankful smiles he’d seen in many years. “I’d really appreciate that.”

He nodded. “Sounds good then. Give me a sec.”

At the counter, he paid for another cup of hot chocolate and added in a chocolate chip cookie for good measure before bringing it back to you. “I hear chocolate helps.”

“Thank you, again. Go, don’t want to make you late.”

But an hour and a half later in the waiting area outside surgery, the doctor came out with a solemn expression, and you all but collapsed into the plastic chairs, tears leaking like waterfalls from your eyes. Part of him wanted to bail and go because there wasn’t much he could do, but it wouldn’t be right to leave you to drive home now. He wanted to make sure that you were calmed down, all cried out, and breathing properly so you could at least operate a vehicle safely.

The same unknown force had him offering you his number in case you needed anyone to talk to, yet the conversation sat empty for weeks until curiosity and guilt ate at him. He tapped out a message, deleting it, then another one, more deleting, before he settled on a plain, “It’s the guy from the hospital. I know it’s been a while but…how are you?”

Your reply was almost instantaneous, to which he worried if he’d accidentally woken you up at 4:13AM. First, it’s a casual, “hey, thanks for checking up on me! I’m doing okay,” but he knew better. And the other shoe dropped in the form of a simple, “I miss him.”

It’s a quiet, heartwarming friendship. You know nothing specific about him – he’s incredibly vague on any identifying information. Hell, you’d be willing to bet that the name at the hospital was a fake one. Nevertheless, he’s one of your closest friends. You know he mainly works online, has a lot of trouble sleeping, is chronically ill and has a number of medical conditions, his general disposition and feelings on things, but overall, just wonderfully easy to talk to.

Yet something just feels wrong about falling in love with him. It’s a horrid combination of guilt and disbelief. Are you rebounding? Are you subconsciously searching for your dead ex-boyfriend? Are you so desperate for romantic connections that you’ve twisted yourself into believing you love a man that you’ve seen fewer times than the number of fingers you have?

You come to peace with it when his custom ringtone chimes softly on your nightstand in the middle of the night. Rain or shine, stars or none, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. Nothing has ever woken you up so quickly, not even alarms on interview days. “Hello?”

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Kind of, but it’s fine. What’s up? Wait,” you interrupt yourself and listen carefully to your speaker. “Are you…driving?”

“…yeah.”

“Should I ask from or to where?”

“I…honestly don’t know. Something felt off, felt like I had to get out of my place and just fucking do something. So uh, I drove somewhere and just started driving back home.”

You curl up under your sheets on your side and plug your earbuds into the phone. “Well, did it get rid of whatever you were feeling?”

“I think so? Honestly couldn’t fucking tell you. Still really bizarre to me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you murmur. “Well, feel free to call me whenever you feel like that again.”

“I don’t wanna fuck up your sleep schedule though. Feel like it’ll happen more often than I’d like.”

“How about this – if I don’t pick up, it’ll just be my nice way of saying ‘fuck off, too busy sleeping right now’?”

A soft, deep chuckle warms your chest and cheeks. “Sounds good. So how’ve you been?”

“Well, you know…”

It’s the same night that you think you might have a chance at love again. You fall asleep with his voice weaving stories and tales in your ears and wake up to a message that says, “Wow, didn’t know I was so fucking boring that it made you snore so loud.” The hope that creeps through your veins is dangerous and thrums urgently whenever you get a call or message from him.

And as bright as a star, it all comes crashing down in a firey blaze.

You crash into a girl as mysterious and serenely beautiful as the moon with a talking black cat one afternoon. She exudes a gorgeous amount of confidence in her stance as she protects you from a creature that looks like it’s out of a horror video game, and you can only stare in awe. The cat from before yells instructions at you, throwing what looks like a pen with a red cap on it and you blindly follow them. Your subsequent red heels feel incredibly comfortable and you can’t remember the last time you wore a skirt – but there’s no time to ponder as you push the girl you were admiring out of harm’s way and somehow manage to direct fire at them from your fingertips.

The monster burns and screams in agony before getting hit with what looks like a glowing frisbee. Your savior wipes the dust off her outfit before extending a hand out to you, “Welcome to the club, Sailor Mars.”

Say what now?

“There’s gotta be a better name than that,” is the first thing you say as you get pulled up. She throws her head back and lets out a charmingly obnoxious laugh. “We’ll work on changing it. I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.”

“Her name ended up being a rip-off of my name,” the cat quips and receives a scowl from the supposed plagiarizer. “I’m Luna, and this is Sailor Moon, or Lunaria she says.”

“You gotta admit, that’s cutting it a little close,” you agree and Lunaria flips the bird. “How the fuck am I going to change Sailor Mars? Also, can I do anything about this outfit?”

“We can go shopping tomorrow for sure. Luna and I can fill you on everything and – oh, before I forget, there’s a guy—”

“So it looks like you don’t need my help?”

You freeze in your steps, startled by the familiar baritone approaching you two. He was involved in all this?

“I told you, I don’t need your help—”

“Is she new?”

“Yeah, which means, we really don’t need your help. She’s got actual fire power. Literal fire.”

“That’s pretty fucking cool,” he accepts. “Good to meet you.”

You spot a set of veiny fingers that appears in your peripheral and you tentatively turn in his direction, hoping that your hair will obstruct your face as much as possible. “Same,” your throat manages to squeak out as his warm hand engulfs yours in a firm handshake.

“Get out of here, Corpse,” Lunaria chides and lets go of you to push a finger to his chest.

“I’m only here because you fucking needed saving. Now you’ve got another person dragged in.”

“I told you, I’m not some fucking damsel in distress,” she hisses. The mirth in his visible eye only causes the infuriation to grow and swirl more vigorously in her gut.

You watch the exchange from the sidelines as Corpse’s teasing only increases and provokes Lunaria further, disheartened that you’ve never heard him laugh so much in one exchange before. Dread from deep within your veins begins to freeze around your heart, something so set and undeniable that causes your brain to realize that falling in love with him was a mistake. It was the kind of mistake that would strike you with pain for years and the intense foreshadowing has you spinning on your heel and bounding through an alleyway. Your outfit shifts back to what you’d been wearing before, the characteristic weight of your phone in your back pocket seeming heavier than ever.

You call him that night, holding in a deep breath when the dial tone breaks midway. A rustle, a breath, and then, “Hey what’s up?”

Oh god, you scream to yourself as your heart shatters at the bottom of your chest. His voice, again, cannot be misconstrued as anyone else’s – the inflection, the tone, the volume, everything belonged to him.

And the universe told you then and there that he, undoubtedly, belonged to her.

[riversongg]

Destiel Coda to 15x20: Carry On. Major spoilers ahead. Whisper Read on AO3

Dean slowed the impala to a stop at the edge of a wide, open field. He turned off the engine and took a deep breath. The window was down, and he could feel the gorgeous spring breeze brushing against his skin, the sun warm and comforting. He could hear insects buzzing all around, bird song carried through the sky. He smiled. Yes, he thought. This is perfect.

He had been in Heaven for a few days now. Bobby was right, time did work differently up here. It had felt like home right away, peaceful and calm. There was no rush to do anything; he had all the time in the world.

He hadn’t seen anyone yet besides Bobby on that first day. Dean had needed some time alone. His life on Earth was over, and it was over too soon. Dean had wanted to live, to really do something and become someone other than the killer that he had always felt fated to be. He felt sad, sure, and he knew that it would take him a long time to come to terms with the loss of the possible life he could have led. For the first time ever Dean had wanted to live, and he wanted to live for himself, and it was taken from him.

It’s a sad kind of peace really, bittersweet yet inevitable.

He had been driving for days that felt like hours that felt like years. No time at all had passed, yet it felt like a lifetime. Dean had been thinking, being, waiting for the perfect place to stop.

And here he was. This field would do wonderfully.

He took another deep breath and got out of the car. He felt nervous, jittery, the feeling when you’ve been looking forward to something for a very long time, but now that it’s here you’re afraid it’s not going to live up to your expectations.

He shook himself. Come on Dean, he told himself. You can do this.

“Uhm,” he said. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to begin. Whatever I say won’t feel like enough but, Cas, if you’re listening, if you can hear me…” He paused. “Castiel, I’d really like to see you.” He closed his eyes, held his breath. Damn, he really hoped he’d show.

A minute passed. Then a minute more. He looked around at the serene calm surrounding him. “Come on Cas,” he whispered. And then he heard it.

“Hello Dean.”

A wide, brilliant smile took over his face. Oh how he had longed to hear those words just one more time.

He turned around with tears forming in his eyes. “Hey Cas,” he said and he took in the sight of the angel in front of him. Castiel was smiling with a sadness in his eyes he understood all too well.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to speak to me,” the angel admitted. “I thought it best to give you some space.” He stepped forwards. “I’m glad you reached out Dean.”

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. “Me too,” Dean said. His feet had felt planted, solid, immovable, but now he was moving forwards so fast he couldn’t get to Cas quick enough. He pulled him into a tight hug and buried his face into Castiel’s neck. “God I missed you so much,” he said, holding back tears. Castiel held him tight. “I’m so happy to see you. I’m so happy, I-“ his words got caught in his throat. They pulled away from each other, slowly. Dean kept one hand on Cas’s shoulder. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

“I’m here now, Dean,” Cas said softly. “Though, no offence,” he said, leaning forwards slightly, “I had hoped it would have taken you a little longer to get here.”

Dean let out a small laugh. “Yeah, me too.” He nodded. They looked at each other, an eternity stretching out before them. Dean shook himself. “Who’d have thought I’d be taken out by a friggin’ vamp.”

Castiel laughed. “They were always your favourite.” Dean couldn’t argue with that.

“Listen man,” Dean started. “I… I have some things I need to say.” God he was getting nervous again. He let his arm fall from Cas’s shoulder and he cracked his knuckles. Let’s do this.

“You don’t have to say anything, Dean,” Cas interrupted. “I understand.”

“You understand shit, Cas. Let me speak.” Cas looked a little taken aback. Okay, maybe not the best approach.

“You know I’m no good with words,” Dean started again. “So please forgive me for not giving you the incredibly epic speech you gave me.” Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. “I love you.” Breathe out. “I love you Castiel. I am in love with you.” A tear fell down his cheek. He hadn’t realised how much he had needed to say those words. This felt like the finale release, the final piece of freedom he had never been granted. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, and I am so sorry I never had the courage to tell you while I was alive.”

Castiel stood, his mouth agape.

“Please say something,” Dean urged.

“You really mean it?” Cas whispered. Dean nodded his head fervently.

“You’re it, Cas. You’re the love of my life.”

Castiel smiled his wonderful, earnest smile and Dean’s heart swelled. He had never felt so warm, so at peace, so loved. He took a shy step forwards, so close to Cas that their feet were touching. Dean carefully placed his hand on Cas’s cheek. He looked into the angel’s eyes, drowning into the blue. Castiel took the last leap and joined their lips together.

It was soft and quiet at first, a whisper so tender. Dean’s hand moved to Cas’s hair and Cas cupped Dean’s face, and suddenly the kiss was moving, growing stronger and more desperate.

“I love you Cas,” Dean moaned into the angel’s lips.

“I love you Dean.” They smiled, foreheads pressed together, catching their breath. “I always will.”

“Always?” Dean asked coyly. He pressed another kiss to Cas’s lips.

“Until the end of time.”

They joined their hands into a solid unity, firm and unwavering.

They turned towards the Impala.

“Let’s go home.”

Read on AO3

[echo-three-one]

Hey, sorry to bother but could you please do Mason with a male reader? Where the reader was a Soviet who helped him escape when he was captured, and after that the reader start working for Adlers team so they can be close to each other? If your not comfortable with a male reader you can do gn ♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱

HELLO anon! Sorry it took me a while to finish this. If you noticed, I was working out on a multichapter fic. But here is your request.

I hope you liked how I did this. I tried my best to make it a nice read.

Step 8 : Freedom

You happily pant as you finally see the outside walls of the horrible prison compound. Thanks to Reznov, you managed to escape hell in your own way. As havoc began around the prison, you planned to take the road less traveled. Away from the gunfire and chaos, your own personal safe route. It worked.

"It worked!" you screamed from the top of your lungs raising your fists up the sky. From the distance you see a train chugging its way along the tracks.

"Bingo." You smiled and laughed at the luck you're having today. One big leap and you're finally free.

You leapt and quickly held on to the train's ladder climbing up to the top and holding on to dear life. A few meters ahead, you see a truck with a turret making it's way toward the side of the train.

A person jumped over the train and reached his hand toward the car. Much to his dismay, the car quickly rerouted away from the train and the man who escaped yelled.

"REZNOOOOV!!!!"

You frown at the thought of Reznov not making in out. He was one of the key persons why you're here right now. You slowly crawl toward the man who started to mourn at the loss of his friend.

"I'm sorry." you console the sad man as he looked at the spot where he last saw Reznov, followed by the sound of cars and gunfire.

"NO!!!!!" he yelled, you manage to cover his mouth with your hand as to not raise suspicion to the people inside the moving train.

"We can talk about him later if you want, for now we just have to find a way to safety." you hush him as he slowly realize that your words make complete sense. He then grabs your hand and puts it down, turning to the peaceful river beside the train tracks.

"Reznov told me this train stops on a nearby settlement. We could drop there and use the crowds for cover. But I'm pretty sure no one will be after us. Reznov did his best to divert all attention away from me." he mutters, you could barely hear him through the chugging of the train but his lip movement guided you to understand him clearly.

"So, what brings you to Vorkuta?" Alex turns to you, his face still looks sad from the mourning and you think it's appropriate to divert conversation away from the center of stress.

"Oh, you know. The usual." you chuckle, avoiding memories you didn't want to recall.

"What about you? What's your deal?" you ask back. He looks like he was debating whether he'll answer honestly or not, and you accept the fact that he's not going to trust you that easily.

"Same as you, I guess." he replies. You could see the lie from a mile away, as it was impossible that he did the same offense as you, but you still nodded to him in agreement.

"Your accent... It's different." you notice, even his build is different. It makes you wonder from what side of the world he originated and how he truly made it to Vorkuta.

"Yeah." He replies, turning his head toward the horizon, his hair blowing against the wind. You quickly find solace in his company, sharing the same experience of hell for the last few months, you find his presence comforting.

"There's our stop." You tell him, raising your voice enough that he could hear it. He nods in thanks and turns his head back to look at the view.

~

After your signal, you both simultaneously jump to the small mound of soil, it's texture felt familiar for you as you once stepped on this exact ground years ago. You look at him with a smile, showing how excited you are to be finally free.

Alex Mason pats his hand to wipe off the soil on hands, and lookz at you while you're staring at him.

"Hey, Is there mud on my face?" he looks at you, concerned at his appearance. This surprises you and you shake your head, looking down as fast as you could trying to hide your facial reaction. This man is clearly making you feel different things. Things beyond your control.

You take a deep breath and clear your face as you look at him to tell him you know someplace you can stay while you make your next plans.

"I know a place. You could make a few calls there, you know, home." You say as he follows beside you.

"What about you, where will you be?" you turn to him and see his curious face. Trying hard not to smile at how cute it is.

"Me? Wherever the wind brings me." You reply with a smile, slightly rolling your eyes to see if he's looking at you. He just hums, maybe thinking of your open ended answer, or maybe just thinking of what he'll do once he gets home.

~

You plop yourself onto the hard wooden platform you once called a bed, sighing in relief once you felt your muscles relax. Holding on to a metal bar for a few hours was exhausting, especially after you fought for freedom just moments before it.

You take a peek at the suspected American, who you tagged along, who happens to take his shirt off and stare at his visage in the mirror, splashing water on his face at intervals.

You knew it feels wrong, but you can't help but stare at his wonderfully sculpted back, how his broad shoulders tense when he raises his hand to wash his face, and you even catch yourself staring at a single drop of water slowly trickling down to his pants. Holy Shit. You thought to yourself as you quickly turn away and shift your position.

"So... uh.. I'm sorry I still haven't got your name. What's your name?" he says, making you turn to him, trying hard not to stare away from his eyes. You want to look down but you can't, you shouldn't.

"Y/N." You reply, gulping after the answer.

"So, Y/N. I'm Alex Mason. Thanks for the help." he smiles and reaches out his hand. Of course you trail your eyes down at his hand, catching a glimpse of something beautiful in the background.

"Yeah, sure. No problem." you shake his hand, feeling it's roughness, feeling it's warm grip against yours.

"So, where could I make the phone calls you promised?"

"Right by the reception. I'll lead you there." You stutter and quickly lead him to the telephone.

While making your way down, you told him that this establishment once housed you in your earlier years of living. He looks interested in your story as he provides you more questions about yourself, to which you answer truthfully. His communication skills are good enough that it makes you very open to him, leaving no story incomplete.

While he makes his call, you couldn't help but look at him mouth each word, like a spy of sorts but you are just looking at his lips. Yes. You think that you're being way too creepy but there's something about him that's magnetizing your eyes. Like an unstoppable force.

Evening came and you are both back on your room, he tells you that he's actually going back to the States tomorrow as his coworker arranged a flight for him. But what he says next would literally change the course of your life.

"I told him, I brought along a trustworthy ally..." he sits down on his bed, spreading his leg a little and crossing his arms. You remain quiet, you didn't want to get your hopes up, but whoelse would he bring but you? You could feel your heart thump faster.

"..that is if you agree to help us. Are you? You told me you have nowhere to go. I think that's enough of a reason to fight more. I don't know how you got to Vorkuta, but if you're housed there, you must be a brave warrior. Something we needed right now. So, what do you say Y/N?" he stood up and reach his hand out again, you look at him in the eye and felt that he too, was taking a big risk. A risk of letting you in and fight along side him, without knowing who you really are.

You slowly stand up, your eyes trail from his eyes to his reached out hand, as you reach out yours and shake it, feeling that same feeling again from earlier.

"Let's go." you say, smiling as you entrust your future under his guidance. Something you never expect to happen but a choice you made that you'll never regret.

[hawkland]

Destiel fic recs/what I’ve been reading (round #2)

I promised (eventually!) more fic recs and I figured I’d better do it soon before my list to talk about got TOO long. Also I’m just bubbling to praise up an amazing fic I read last night that literally has given me a fanfic hangover this morning and I need you all to suffer with me.

Starting with that fic in question:

Aria for an Angel (84k) by anyrei, mugglerock. I hurt all over from this one and I command you to do the same.

That said, DO NOT READ if you can’t stand the idea of Cas finding love/happiness with someone else (even if the fic is endgame Destiel). Also don’t read if you can’t stand your heart being shattered by pain before being carefully put back together again. Those warnings aside, this is one of the most stunning fics I’ve read yet in SPN fandom and I’m going to rec it at you no matter what. I’ve been feeling very pissy at Dean lately, as I’m on season 12 in my complete watch-thru, and with how much Cas has been suffering and getting beaten down for, like, SEASONS now. And it got me looking for fics where Cas gets some of the TLC/love/care that he needs from someone else, at least until Dean can get his shit together. Enter Mick Davies. Mick comes to Cas for help with a case that ends up involving a Grigori, and the two grow closer as Cas enjoys spending time with someone who genuinely expresses care and concern for him...but when Dean finds out will he have to choose between the Winchesters, his found family on Earth, and his new boyfriend? And when tragedy strikes, is it too late for a second chance at his first love again?

This story is funny, hot, heartbreakingly sad and just completely wrung me out emotionally. The characterizations totally worked for me, the growth they all went through was the kind of stuff I only wish the writers of the show could pull off. There’s just...there’s so much pain and love and some good stuff with poor Sam and Mary caught in the middle of this shitstorm and I wasn’t sure I could be brought back around to wanting Cas and Dean together in the end, but the authors pulled it off and everything about this story hurts, and heals, in the best possible way.

The rest of my recs in this round-up beneath the cut.

Seek to Know You Better (32k) by ahurston. Season 15 canon-divergence—so no Empty, no rusty nail, but things are relatively calm and settled in the hunter/Winchester world. As such Dean and Cas go on a road-trip together, investigate some minor cases, and gradually open up and really TALK via a “36 Questions That Lead to Love” article Cas finds on-line. One of those fics that just gives you a happy glow inside to read; it feels very believable and the characters have a maturity and adultness to them that just feels right. The little details of all the places they stop for food while talking are a delight, and it’s just the right amount of pining (for me) before they finally get things together.

Purgatory, director's cut (27k) by runsinthefamily. THIS IS THE ULTIMATE PURGATORY FIC (well, in my reading adventures so far.) Written (apparently?) before season 8 actually aired, it takes a very different - and weirdly creative and bizarre - look at what purgatory would be like. And if Cas stuck with Dean through it all.  It also posits that as a human Dean would be “allergic” to purgatory and need Cas’s grace to hold himself together...but the deeper they travel, trying to get out, the more precarious Cas’s hold on his vessel becomes. I love everything about this fic, the weird imagery, the way Dean just...rolls with everything happening to Cas and still loving him because it’s Cas, not his vessel, that’s important.

Grooming Instincts (26k) by jemariel. More wing!kink which...yeah. Gimme all the wing grooming/back massages and weird angel anatomy, please. Cas is grumpy while going through what he describes as “molting” only...it’s a bit more complicated than that. And Dean has no idea what he’s gotten himself into until Cas starts grooming him...and Kevin is able to translate/figure out what’s happened. Funny and hot and just...a yummy happy read with great bits from Sam, Kevin and Charlie for good measure.

Things that Leave Marks (23k) by thestoryinsideme. Canon-divergent from Season 9.  Wherein it takes Dean three years to find Cas after getting kicked out of the bunker. And when he does, it’s apparent he’s been through a lot, and he’s not exactly ready to or certain about going back to life with the Winchesters. This was sad and sweet and fluffy and angsty in all the right ways for a comfort fic read. (Also features Cas the budding artist! I love that idea!)

Wavelength-gasm (11k) by Mumble-Bee. The fuck or die trope gets a very fun twist when it involves needing to fuck an angel in his true form. Dean certainly learns this the hard way! This rec is for all the trueform!Cas-loving freaks like me out there...I’ve certainly never seen a smut fic embrace the weirdness of it all like this one.

Drive Faster Sammy (7k) by almaasi. Speaking of fuck-or-die fics, pray for Sam in this one. He has to listen to Dean helping when Cas gets struck by one (again) and they don’t have time to make it back to the bunker—so things get kind of graphic in the backseat of the Impala.

Love Burns Its Casualties (5k) by anactoria. Beautiful and bittersweet fic set during “The End”. Present-day Dean can’t sleep, and ends up invited by future!Cas to spend what he knows is likely his last night alive with him.  Features casual weed use (if that bothers you), some very hot shotgunning (if it doesn’t), and is just...a wonderfully written atmospheric story that I’ve already re-read several times. (It’s especially a good read when slightly stoned yourself. Um. Not that I’m necessarily advocating for that sort of thing, unless it’s legal in your neck of the woods. Um. Anyway...)

something quiet and minor and peaceful and slow (3.7k) by celeste9. Heaven fic, so don’t read if that’s not your thing. Also don’t read if you’re completely convinced John Winchester is an unredeemable homophobe and terrible parent all around. I, personally, liked this take a lot more as it shows a struggling but not horrible John confused about why this angel keeps popping over, asking Mary questions about what Dean will want in his little slice of Heaven. The title really describes the lovely mood of this little fic and I liked it a lot.

heaven, reconstructed (9k) by vaudelin. Another Heaven fic, more focused on Cas than Destiel (but that is endgame). Goes into what exactly Cas was doing, working with Jack to try to build a better Heaven while awaiting Dean’s eventual arrival. It’s a great fic for world-building (in more ways than one!) in the SPN universe and I like a story that explores Cas’s relationships with others beyond Dean and Sam. I’d add too that as a fan of The Good Place, I just in general enjoy stories that look at the complexity of what actually would constitute a “perfect” afterlife. So imagine Castiel as a TGP architect here if you will (I certainly did!)

The Passion of the Christ (and his angelic ex-boyfriend) (4.9k) by Bzzee. Another heaven!fic, but pure delightful crack. What happens when Dean and Cas run into one of Cas’s ex-boyfriends in Heaven’s roadhouse...who just happens to be Jesus Christ. Dean isn’t too happy with that knowledge (and neither is Judas). Just read it—heresy and all. For a crack fic it’s actually wonderfully smart and wicked.

Can't You Hear It Calling (4.7k) by imogenbynight. A “missing scene” from s8e32 (Sacrifice). Cas expects to never see Dean again once he (expects to, at least) close the gates of Heaven. As a parting gift, he takes Dean back in time to a Led Zeppelin concert...and then a motel room to spend a final night together. As a music lover, the description of the excitement of the concert (and the happy/sadness when the show is almost over) totally hit me in the feels...and it’s such angsty/beautiful smut when they get together.

You're Gonna Live Tomorrow (3k) by MajorEnglishEsquire, microcomets, orange_crushed. Cas doesn’t know a lot about being human (yet), but he does know one thing - he wants to marry Dean. Sweet, sweet happy fluff, just enjoy.

Who's Counting? (1.7k) by Annie D (scaramouche). Just some pure angel-powered delicious smut. Dean learns the hard way, over and over again, that angels have basically no refractory period.

[squiddybeifong]

Not-Quite Couples Therapy, Chapter 6

On Ao3 here!

--

Dr. Quinzel smiled at the couple as she leaned back in her armchair. Raven and Donna were practically curled up together in the center of the loveseat, both looking brighter now that they had apologized to one another. But there was still more to discuss; grateful that the couple seemed willing to listen and grow in their relationship, the psychiatrist got down to business, “So, it seems that you both know how to apologize properly. That makes my job quite a bit easier.”

Donna intertwined her fingers with Raven’s ring studded ones, the last bit of tension leaving both their shoulders at Dr. Quinzel’s words. The blonde’s face slid into one that resembled a benevolent schoolteacher as she began her first and most important lesson, “Okay, you two. In order to keep your relationship from deteriorating, you need to listen to your partner. That means not cutting them off and actually hearing what they tell you before you start thinking about how you’ll respond.”

Raven nodded, her chin tilting towards Donna as the rock climber hummed out, “Do people do that a lot?”

The blonde nodded, crossing her legs and folding her hands atop her knee as she explained, “It’s the difference between active and passive listening.” The green and red gems within her simple wedding ring gleamed as the psychiatrist motioned to the loveseat that they sat on. “You two were passively listening to each other the last time all three of us were here.”

A lightbulb was practically visible over the goth’s head as gray eyes went down to her lap. “Since I was more focused on trying not to think about my father than hear what Donna was telling me about her sister,” Raven softly realized, her words accompanied with an encouraging squeeze from Donna. 

Raven looked up at her date as the rock climber added, “And I was so focused on thinking that my issues with Diana weren’t as dangerous as yours with your dad--”

“My father,” Raven quickly interjected. 

While Dr. Quinzel did hastily write a few words down, Donna didn’t seem to be too fazed by the look that briefly flashed over Raven’s face, immediately continuing, “--your issues with your father. I was only listening to things that would let me win this…” Donna shrugged, not exactly sure what to call the roil of emotions that twisted in her stomach whenever family and competition intertwined.

Raven tilted her head to the side, “Character test, maybe?”

Donna smiled softly, both apologetic and thankful as she squeezed the goth’s hand, “Kinda, yeah.”

“It’s important to be self aware both during and after an argument,” The therapist spoke up in the brief lull in their conversation. She glanced down at her notes and met the couple’s gaze, ensuring that she had their full attention. “For your relationship --and I mean yours in particular, this is not just general advice-- but it appears to me that you both were somewhat… how to say… appealing to the authority in the room?”

Donna’s brows furrowed, the rock climber briefly catching Raven’s confused gaze for just an instant before all of their attention was back on the blonde. Dr. Quinzel tucked her notepad against the side of her thigh and continued to elaborate, “So instead of arguing completely amongst yourselves about the issues that popped up the last time we had a session, you were each also trying to put the other down in my eyes while you were arguing.”

“Were we really?” Raven’s voice was quiet and held an undercurrent of shame as she thought back to the last time the three of them were together in the office, trying to remember the totality of her words and actions.

“I mean, knowing us we might’ve but it wasn’t on purpose, right?” Donna seemed a tinge more worried, her free hand starting to drum against the outside of her knee as she also tried to think back on their fight.

Before either woman could get too far in her head, the therapist hummed out, “Oftentimes it’s not quite subconscious but it is a type of passive defense mechanism.” She motioned to the rock climber, her voice going up half a pitch as she drawled out, “Oh, it’s not enough that Raven’s father is a criminal, I need to keep reiterating to Dr. Q that I had no idea about that aspect of her past and can’t possibly be associated with or tainted by it.” 

Noting but not writing down the surprise that filled Donna’s eyes, Dr. Quinzel immediately motioned to Raven with her other hand, “Oh, it’s not enough that Donna feels inadequate compared to her sister, I must point out that it’s an ungrateful mindset when others have worse family lives. How could she say such things when my father is literally the target of a federal manhunt. Don’t you agree, Doctor?”

At the growing looks of shock and budding clarification on her clients’ faces, Dr. Quinzel relaxed her posture and gave the two of them a kind, knowing smile. A soft sigh slipped out as the psychiatrist leaned forward in her armchair again, clasping her hands together and lowering her voice back to normal now that her point had been made. She clicked her pen and placed her notepad in its customary spot on her lap. “I’d imagine with both of your… familial issues that you’re probably used to getting in your opinions after everyone else? If for any reason than to keep the peace and ensure that your voices were the last ones heard in the room?”

As she spoke out her observations, the psychiatrist’s eyes went from Raven to Donna, her face softening as she watched the way the two automatically leaned against each other as the conversation got more and more personal. Dr. Quinzel was pleased that both of them seemed to be genuine in trying to learn how to be better for themselves and each other; the pink tipped nails drummed against her knuckles as Dr. Quinzel considered how she’d get them to reach the conclusions that she wanted.

As usual, she decided to go with the obvious. “In my professional opinion,” The doctor began, “You both seem to want to be better than the expectations that you feel others have put on you. And while it’s good to have goals, you also need to ensure that those goals --those ambitions, really-- are something that you want.”

A small chuckle slipped out of the psychiatrist, “It’s a bit cliche, but you truly can’t be the best partner you can be in a relationship if you haven’t figured out what you as a person want.” Donna bit back a tiny smile and Raven rested her cheek on the tall woman’s shoulder, instinctively wanting to be closer. 

Dr. Quinzel considered the move and then added, “Now professionally, I’d like quite a bit more sessions with the two of you. When it comes to competition and measuring up to those expectations, it appears that both of you are prone to falling into a defensive state. That’ll have to be addressed, especially as you two set about setting boundaries in your lives outside of this office and your relationship.”

Her blue eyes were a bit remorseful as Dr. Quinzel hummed out, “I know it’s troubling to think about but Donna’ll have to speak to her sister about this festering insecurity eventually.” The rock climber tensed in a move so minute that Dr. Quinzel only knew it happened by the way Raven shifted, the goth’s other hand coming up to encase Donna’s hands within her own. Gray eyes were anticipating the uncomfortable truths that were headed her way, the goth’s face just barely remaining stoic when Dr. Quinzel added, “And Raven’s going to have to deal with any sort of fallout that occurs once her father gets caught.” 

Without waiting for them to speak up, the blonde couldn’t keep the smile out of her voice as she declared, “It’ll obviously be difficult, but you two have proven time and time again that you’re willing to work at this: whether it be therapy, your relationship, your own selves.”

Raven and Donna shared a quick look, a bit of wonder and a lot of hope plain on their faces. “Now, in my not professional opinion,” Dr. Quinzel grinned at them, “I think both of your values and goals are focused enough that this relationship can absolutely work. In fact, it should thrive if you two put even half as much effort into it as you do when you’re in counseling.” 

Raven smiled as she rubbed her thumb over the soft scars that covered where the gauze didn’t completely cover Donna’s knuckles when she sparred with Dick. Donna let out a small laugh and ran a hand through her loose ponytail, fighting the urge to sigh in relief at the psychiatrist’s comment. 

Donna and Raven had the same thought going through their minds, urged on by the fact that there was a chance that they could work. 

Without realizing what she was doing, Raven rested her head on her date’s shoulder. Feeling a bit exhausted from the emotions of their reunion and the sheer amount of learned behavior she and Donna would have to work on, the goth rested her other hand along the crook of Donna’s arm. 

Dr. Quinzel bit back a smile and scribbled something down when Donna lightly jumped at Raven’s move. The rock climber let a languid smile curl her lips, “Hey, Rae?”

Instead of speaking, the goth lifted her chin to rest on the end of Donna’s wonderfully wide shoulders. Donna instinctively pressed a kiss to her forehead, feeling rather than seeing as Raven’s eyes widened at the move.

A part of her realized how odd it was to be so comfortable and romantically open while in the therapist’s presence, but Donna brushed the thought aside; their relationship had been formed in such a weird way that that wasn’t all too peculiar, all things considered.

Donna aimed a bright, dimple-laden, slightly crooked smile down at the goth that still clung to her arm, “Did you want to go out sometime? Like a date?”

Gray eyes both widened and softened at the same time, Raven’s lips splitting into a genuine smile that brightened her whole face. The sight almost made Donna lean down to finally kiss her, but the scratch of pen against paper interrupted the moment. Donna glanced at Dr. Quinzel when her scribbling kept up for more than ten seconds, unsure if something was wrong. Raven tore her gaze from the rock climber’s face as the doctor hastily flipped between pages of her notes, the swish! of paper loud in the quiet air. 

A tiny chuckle escaped the goth at the obvious stretch of emotions that came over Dr. Quinzel’s face. The psychiatrist considered her previous sessions’ notes, a bewildered sigh escaping her as a set of wide blue eyes considered the couple. “You two weren’t lying, were you?”

They both sheepishly shrugged as Dr. Quinzel gaped down at her past handwriting, over half a decade of professionalism just barely keeping the flabbergasted laughter from escaping, “When you said ‘I don’t even know her.’ You were being serious, weren’t you?”

Donna had the good graces to look abashed as she answered, “We met here, yeah.”

Dr. Quinzel swallowed a sound in her throat as she palmed her face, uncaring as some of her pink gel pen wrote on the side of her cheek. The blonde let out a soft cackle, her disbelief at the turn of events morphing into amusement as she leaned forward, holding her notepad against her chest. 

With Dr. Quinzel obviously occupied, Raven, feeling bold, brought their hands up to her mouth and pressed a kiss against the back of Donna’s hand. 

The rock climber jumped at the contact, their proximity meaning that Raven could see the tiniest trail of goosebumps that ran over her date’s arms as she smiled up at her. “I never got a chance to say yes,” Raven softly murmured against tanned skin.

While Donna giggled out an excited “Really?!” Dr. Quinzel slyly glanced at the clock; seeing that she didn’t have too much time to lead their conversation into the next subject, the blonde sat up straight. 

“Okay, I have some therapy homework for you two.” Dr. Quinzel punctuated her words with a clap, her grin wide as she considered the couple in front of her. 

Her arms spread open, the blue flannel giving way to the crimson button up that the psychiatrist wore underneath. She pointed between her clients, “You two’ll have to discuss some of this while out of my office.”

Dr. Quinzel immediately squinted at the guilty looks that the two young women shared, a worried sigh filling her lungs, “...You two are talking about our sessions outside of this room, right?”

Donna blushed and looked away, her fingers tightening around Raven’s as she rubbed the back of her head. Fiddling with the elastic band that held her ponytail, the muscular woman admitted, “We don’t really talk much outside of this room, actually.”

Raven bit the inside of her cheek, watching the thoughts fly across their therapist’s face as Dr. Quinzel remembered her earlier realization of how consistently literal their answers were. The blonde scooted back until she was flush with the plush back of her armchair, professional intuition and common sense preparing her for the expected answer of her next question.

Dr. Quinzel crossed her legs and asked the obvious, “How much time do you two spend together?”

Raven tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, the barest blush reddening the tops of her cheeks as she admitted, “About an hour a week, give or take a few minutes.”

Donna continued, “It usually depends on how long it takes us to walk down the stairs.”

Dr. Quinzel clicked her tongue, a small smile curling her lips as she deadpanned, “The elevator’s been repaired for a few weeks now. Think you can make the time to talk a bit longer?”

She leveled a gaze over the couple that somehow blended serious professionalism and kindhearted teasing all at once. Dr. Quinzel’s suggestion was a demand, “Maybe go out on actual dates rather than interacting only in my office?”

--

As usual, their walk down the stairwell was quiet; the new couple held hands as they languidly made their way down the concrete steps, enjoying the quiet and the feel of the other so close. Raven tugged on Donna’s hand as they neared the end of the stairwell, stopping the rock climber before she could get too close to the door. 

“Dr. Quinzel knows.”

Donna raised a brow at the obvious, trying to follow the psychiatrist’s advice and listen to her date’s words instead of staring at how kissable her lips looked. She thought back to their second session and her cheek tingled as she remembered the warmth of Raven’s lips against the corner of her mouth where her dimple lay.

The goth took a deep breath, “Should we keep this up?” 

Raven quickly added at the brief flash of concern that slipped onto Donna’s face, “I mean with this ‘only talking while in therapy’ thing. Dr. Quinzel’s right. We should go on actual dates eventually.”

Donna tugged at her ponytail, “Well, it’s only 4. I’ve got the rest of the day off, you up for an early dinner?”

Raven smiled, nodding as Donna grabbed her hand to pull her close. She got a scant second to savor the press of the muscular woman against her then, getting the hint when Donna turned her face towards the door to the lobby, Raven once again pressed a quick, firm kiss against Donna’s cheek, glad that this time she didn’t have to rush out to see the adorable way Donna’s smile showcased her dimples. 

A quiet little gasp slid out of the goth when Donna leaned down to peck the corner of her mouth. The rock climber squeezed their joined hands as they stepped out into the sunlight, the lobby’s noise drowned out by the passing cars along the street. 

[asherranceoftheheart]

Raw Feelings - JSE Drabble

Archive of Our Own Link (<--- If you guys would prefer to read it there) Pairing/s: Heroaverage (Chase/Jackie), hinted Antiaverage (Chase/Anti) and AntiHero (Jackie/Anti), hinted future AntiHeroAverage (Jackie/Anti/Chase) Character/s: Chase Brody, Jackieboy Man, Antisepticeye Warning/s: Ego Shipping Summary/Note: Takes place in an AU that I may or may not write. Basically, Jackie and Anti were accidentally merged together by Marvin in one of his spells. Jackie was basically in a relationship with Chase and Anti who was slowly being accepted into the Septic Egos after Jack came back from the coma was pretty close with Chase. Chase was the person who accepted Anti first into the group which greatly surprised Anti and took him off guard and he grudgingly basically became close with the younger ego. Anyway, the merged form is generally a mix between Jackie and Anti but occasionally, one of the two would come out when there's no conflict and they're feeling rather strong individual emotions.

This is just a little fluffy drabble for Chase and the mixed Jackie and Anti with mostly hints of complicated emotions that hints at a possible poly relationship between the three in the future. If they could manage to get Anti to talk to them that is.

If you guys want me to write more of this please tell me lmao

Tag list: @ari-trash @taikeero-lecoredier @miishae

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He slowly stirred from the world of dreams to the sensation of something almost sharp tracing light circles on his cheek. The air was filled with the subtle sound of a quiet hum, reminiscent of that of an old TV playing nothing but white static.

His eyelids fluttered open and his sleepy blue eyes met a pair of flickering crying black voids that seemed to draw him into their depths like an eternal blackhole.

Most normal smart people would’ve been scared at such a sight and maybe back in the past he would’ve been scared shitless at waking up to this being tirelessly watching him. But he never claimed to be smart and most of all… He knows this person and he knew without a doubt, that they would never ever lay a single harmful finger on him.

Chase Brody reached up and cupped their warm cheek tenderly.

“Hey,” he whispered, unwilling to disturb the rare, peaceful air that was enveloping the normally chaotic being before him. “Did you just spend the entire night watching me sleep? That’s gotta be rather boring, love.”

And creepy, as Marv would’ve wonderfully tactfully said if he was here right now.

He pushed himself up on one arm and hooked his other arm around the other’s neck to pull them in so that he could bump their foreheads gently together in an affectionate act. The younger ego brushed his lips on the mixed ego’s cheek. They grunted before rolling them both over so that they could pin a smiling Chase’s body on the bed with theirs.

“You’re always interesting,” they rumbled as they plopped their much bigger body on top of his, making Chase wheeze a bit at the unexpected weight. “Morning.”

Chase could feel Jax (the name that everyone had agreed to call Jackie and Anti’s merged form) burrowing his face on the crook of his neck, their hot puffs of breath against his sensitive skin made him slightly squirm. He wrapped his arms around their waist and kissed the top of their head, wrinkling his nose and resisting the urge to sneeze when their fluffy brown hair tickled the inside of his nose.

“Morning love… What time is it?” asked Chase, not even attempting to lean his head over to get a glance of his digital clock. He was far too content underneath Jax’s body to move.

“Dunno, don’t care,” Jax grumbled, “Cat boy dropped by earlier to have me tell you that he wants to talk when you woke up.”

Chase arched an eyebrow at that information. Marvin dropped by? Normally, the other man avoided his room these days because Jax is still severely pissed off with him for causing this entire merged body fiasco.

“Maybe he’s got some news on how to separate you both,” Chase murmured. Being underneath Jax meant that he immediately felt it when the other being tensed at his words. “... Jax?  Is there something wrong?”

They only tightened their hold around him in answer.

“... ‘s nothing,” they mumbled against his neck.

… Chase knows that voice. He knows that sharp tone, those violent barbs that only emerges when he gets too close to a furiously protected heart.

Anti.

“Anti,” said Chase, soothingly trailing his fingers up and down the other’s spine, kissing the side of their head. “We need to talk about this. About us.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Anti snarled, about to pull himself away from Chase if it weren’t for the fact that the smaller man already predicted this reaction and had hooked his legs around him. “Chase.”

Anti threateningly growled, brushing his sharp teeth over Chase’s throat as a warning even though they both knew that it was an empty one. He could’ve broken out of the weaker man’s hold already if he truly wanted to get away from him and yet… He continued to lay painfully tense in Chase’s arms.

“... Let me go.” Chase’s heart ached at the hint of a plea in Anti’s voice. It was something that seemed so publicly uncharacteristic coming from the volatile glitchy being and yet Chase knew better. After all, this hadn’t been the first time Anti had bared his soul to him.

“No,” he firmly said. “I’m not letting go of you, no matter what.”

Jax… No. Anti shuddered in his embrace, clutching at Chase as if afraid or rather, expecting him to break the unsaid promise in those words.

“Idiot,” Anti choked out before he retreated back into the chaotic mix of his and Jackie’s soul, to try and hide away the unexpectedly pried open bars of his heart.

Chase resisted the urge to sigh. He felt more sad than frustrated at the currently complicated set of events. Feelings… Such a messy issue to straighten out.

He felt a kiss on his cheek and when he turned his head, his eyes met a pair of warmer, concerned voids. Chase gave Jackie a reassuring smile.

“I’m okay, love,” said Chase, kissing the tip of the merged form’s nose. “Can you… Can you check on him please? Make sure he’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Jackie nodded and then pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss, “I’ll take care of him.”

“Good,” Chase whispered against his lips. “Be gentle with him.”

“I know, sunshine.” Jackie nuzzled their cheeks together. “I will.”

And with that, he mixed themselves back together again. Jax reluctantly pried himself away from Chase but then slinked back into his hold when the younger ego pulled him back.

“Five more minutes,” Chase murmured as he hid his face into the other’s bare chest, pressing his ear above the erratically beating heart.

“... Five more minutes.” Jax repeated with a nod, wrapped his arms around Chase once more.

For now, the world outside of their shared room did not exist. For now… The three of them basked in each other’s comforting presence and allowed time to slide away from their grasps until they took hold of it once more.

[rmg91]

Meant To Be-6

I FORGOT LINKS THE FIRST TIME I POSTED!

*Creeps in* Heeeeey~ Look who's got an update for you?! Yes, it's been months. Yes, this is just something fluffy cause the muses didn't want to do something holiday themed. And yes, I'm still more invested in my RP with Autumn than writing more fic (even though I do wanna write more fic and Autumn's been busy with holiday things so I have time to write just have lack of motivation!) ANYWAY! Please enjoy this unbeta'ed bit of fluff.

Chapter Summary: Poppy's far too comfortable in Branch's arms to move right now.

Previous Chapter/Next Chapter; AO3;FF.Net (coming later)

@writerofberk-HAVE SOME FLUFF!

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“Surprise Hug Time!”

As her voice rang out loud and clear, trolls all around jumped eagerly into each others arms as the Queen's giggles echoed around them, the pink troll making a mad dash to her chosen partner and reason for the sudden activity. She was caught easily between strong, teal arms, the troll they belonged to swinging her in a half arc before he settled her on the ground. Poppy giggled happily, burying her face in Branch's neck as she squeezed him close. She felt him chuckle, that gentle fond one that always filled her with warmth, and she cuddled deeper into his hold, breathing a sigh of content. She loved being hugged by him, just like this, holding each other tightly, her arms around his neck as she rested her head on his broad shoulders, his own arms snugly wound around her waist and rocking gently side to side. She hummed and nuzzled her nose against his neck, making no move to leave his hold even though she had lots and lots to do today. But she was so comfy right here in his warm embrace, that wonderfully calming earthy scent of his invading her senses as she relaxed further and further into his arms. And it felt like forever since she last shared a long lasting hug with him, even though at most it had been a few days. So a few extra minutes wouldn't hurt, she was sure.

Branch meanwhile gently nuzzled his nose against the side of her head, holding her close as he rubbed circles on her sides with his thumbs, unconsciously rocking them side to side. He had known the moment they had spotted each other from across the field she would be racing toward him, arms held wide open for a hug. Though he truthfully didn't expect her to stay after getting her fill, he knew she was awfully busy today, but there she stayed in his embrace, slowly relaxing as she tried to nuzzled her way deeper into his hold. Chuckling gently, he carefully nudged his nose against her ear, calling her name softly, “Poppy. Poppy~ Hey, I think your surprise hug time is over.” Not that he really wanted her to leave, he just knew she had a lot to get through today.

“Hmmm....Five more minutes...” She drawled, voice soft and dreamy as she drooped against him, giving happy hum before her breath slowly evened out.

Branch stood there, blinking in astonishment. Did she-? Had she just fallen asleep in the middle of a hug time? He continued to stand there, still unconsciously rubbing circles into her side, trying comprehend that she had indeed just fallen asleep standing in his arms. He was there long enough for some of the Snack Pack to approach, staring confusedly at them. He quickly made a shushing motion with his hair, not wanting them to disturb the snoozing queen. Smidge came closer and gestured to Poppy, staring at her best friend with the same astonished and confused expression as he was.

“Is she really asleep?” The petite troll's deep voice rumbled.

“Yeah...” Branch nodded carefully, not wanting to move to quickly and risk waking up his girlfriend. Poor Poppy, she must have been exhausting herself again.

Smidge frowned, thinking hard as she crossed her arms before nodding once, “You know what she had planned for today?”

“Of course,” He had made up her schedule himself after all, hoping to help her out if she knew what needed to be done for the day or what trolls wanted or needed help. Carefully, having a feeling he knew what Smidge wanted to suggest, he weaved his hair between hers and pulled out her flowery clipboard. And then sighed at the evidence that she had added more to her day for written between his neat handwriting was various add-in's in glittery gel pen. Handing the clipboard to Smidge, he watched her read it before nodding again.

“We'll take care of some of these. You,” She pointed at him with a hard look, “Make sure she gets some sleep. She won't be any fun if she doesn't and will keep falling asleep in the punch bowl like last time.”

He was all for that plan, and truthfully was going to suggest it anyway, so he agreed and as the Pack went to go help with some of the things Poppy had promised or wanted to get done, he carefully hoisted her up in his arms, gaining only a little noise of complaint before she sighed and settled down in his arms. And off he went.

First he thought about taking her to her pod but knowing how excited the village could get, opted to take her to the bunker, where it was quiet and his darling Sunshine could get a well deserved nap. He knew she wanted everyone to have fun everyday and for that big project of hers to work out but some days she forgot she needed sleep in there too and she couldn't be any fun or help to anyone if she wasn't at her best self. Something he'd have to remind her of again but for now he would make sure she slept peacefully for a little while.

Taking the quieter paths around the village, he smiled and nodded to the few trolls he came across, quiet coos or gentle laughs coming from them as they saw the queen snuggled happily in the survivalist's arms. It wasn't long before they made it to his underground home and using his hair to open the hatch, he hummed softly to her to disguise the whirl of the elevator as it carried them down. Hopping off, he made his way to his bedroom, pausing only briefly as he contemplated on how to settle her in amongst his blankets and pillows. Once again using his hair to adjust some pillows and throw some blankets back, Branch braced a knee on the side of the bed to place Poppy closer toward the middle but she clung to his vest with both hands as soon he began to lower her down. Leaning awkwardly over, Branch tried to dislodge her so she could sleep in peace but she held on tightly, making a little noise of discontent that had him sighing.

So, standing back for a moment, the aquamarine troll then carefully crawled onto his bed on his knees, careful not to jostle his precious cargo too much before settling them both down against his many pillows. Maybe if he laid down with her for a few minutes she'd relax enough so he could slip away and let her enjoy her nap. And she did relax, a happy sigh came as he wrapped his arms around her and began rubbing her back, but she didn't move away, she only cuddled closer. Branch couldn't help but huff quietly in amusement, even asleep his dear Sunshine demanded his attention and what would be the harm if he took a few minutes to close his eyes himself? So, carefully adjusting so he could cradle her more fully, he buried his nose in her soft, strawberry scented hair and let her quiet breaths lull him into dreamland alongside her. And if when they woke up later and cuddled a little longer, sharing sweet nothing and soft kisses, who's to say the village would ever know?

~*~*~*~*~*~

Come on, you all know Poppy would so fall asleep during a hug time. It's just a Poppy thing to do. Also don't wait three days to actually write something when it yells at you, it gets a little rough in place XD Hope you enjoyed and maybe next time there will be some holiday fluff! No promises though XD

[amukmuk]

3 or 46 for foxiyo, for the writing prompt thing, if that's alright?

Of course!! Thank you so much @flyawaybluebirdie for sending a prompt! I actually ended up combining them because I love a challenge. 

For the Prompts Touch & Blanket | Ao3

One

Fox stands at the landing pad, ready to welcome yet another freshly elected senator. As if he doesn’t have enough to do as it is, he also serves as the resident tour guide for all the shiny senators. Beneath his bucket, he rolls his eyes.

As the ramp lowers on the Pantoran ship, Senator Riyo Chuchi appears. He has read her file, acquainted himself with her appearance to ensure that he isn’t welcoming separatist scum with open arms. But, for some reason, Fox is shocked by how small she is. She’s petite and blue and looks like she wants to be just here as much as Fox does.

“Senator. Welcome to Coruscant,” Fox greets. He stands at formal parade rest and prepares for her to brush him off because he’s just a clone, and that’s what every other senator does.

“Thank you.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Riyo Chuchi.”

He stares at her hand, her fingers are slender and are adorned with petite golden rings. Slowly, probably resembling a robot that he is thought to be, he takes her hand. “Commander Fox, ma’am.”

“Lovely to make your acquaintance, Commander.” She says as she gives his hand a few shakes up and down.

“Likewise, Senator,” he states and for the first time in his life, he thinks he may actually mean those words.

Two

There is a knock at his door and Fox instantly feels homicidal. If someone is coming in here to tell him that he is late on the paperwork he is filling out right now he’s going to kill them. He would have been done by now except he had to keep taking breaks to babysit the damned, shiny Senators. “Enter,” he growls.

“Hi Commander,” Senator Chuchi is standing at his door, holding a tin can of something .

Oh no .

Please don’t let this be a package she was delivered. They will have to lock down the whole area, the bombsquad will be called in and then he really won’t get this paperwork done.

Wearing a smile that only worsens his anxiety, she enters his cluttered, supply closet-sized office and stands in front of his desk.  

“Can I help you with something, Senator?” He bites.

Her smile falters. “I just wanted to say thank you. I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to properly thank you for showing me around. Without you, I would be, in quite the literal sense of the word, lost.”

He stares at her. Thanking him? Thanking him?  

She clears her throat and shifts her weight back and forth between her feet. “Anyway, thanks.” She thrusts the tin box at him. “I baked some traditional Pantoran cookies. They’re my favorite.”

Hesitant, he accepts the box from her, their fingers brushing. To his surprise, however, she doesn’t flinch away from his accident touch. Most senators do. “Thanks… This is very nice of you.”

She beams. “Anyway, I will let you get back to work. It was lovely seeing you again, Commander.” And she darts away, leaving Fox standing in his office staring down at a tin of cookies like they may hold the meaning of life.

Three

Fox breathes a sigh of relief as the elevator door closes. If he is being honest with himself, he is not doing well. He hasn’t slept in three days and he is getting really tired of senators referring to him as just ‘clone’ or whatever other derogatory terms they come up with. Finally, in the peaceful quiet of an empty, descending elevator - he is alone. He slouches, his back aching from standing impossibly straight all day.

To his absolute and total dismay, the elevator lurches and the doors slide open, revealing Senator Chuchi. Her face lights up immediately and Fox feels nothing but dread. Normally, he can partake in some chipper small talk that she likes to make, but he is tired and he just wants to get to his office so he can take a shot of brandy and fall asleep on his desk.

“Hello, Commander!” She chirps as she steps into the elevator.

“Senator,” he greets with a nod.

“How are you today?” He’s gotten used to her asking this question. The first time she had asked, his brain had almost stopped working altogether. Now, he has a canned response.

“I’m fine, ma’am, and you?”

“Doing well, thank you.”

Silence falls between them as the floors tick down.

“You seem like you have a lot on your mind, Fox. Are you sure you are alright?”

He looks over at her. He is always ready for everything, but Riyo always seems to catch him off guard. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I do not mean to pry, how rude of me.”

The elevator dings; they’ve reached her floor.

Placing a gentle hand upon his upper arm, she says, “I hope whatever is troubling you passes easily and without grief. Have a wonderful day, Commander.”

The doors are already sliding shut when he musters up the coherency to tell her to have a good day as well.

Four

Fox signs his number for the last time and exhales a heavy sigh of relief. Senator Chuchi had asked if she could stop by for lunch and while he had initially told her no, after about a week of her asking, he finally conceded. Now he finds himself rushing to get his work done so that she can still come by.

When she knocks on the door, he straightens up his desk haphazardly and calls for her to enter.

She stands there with multiple bags of food and a tray of drinks. “Good afternoon, Fox. How are you today?”

“I’m fine, thank you. How are you?” He pulls his chair around to the other side of the desk for her to sit in. It’s not the most comfortable thing, but it is a far cry better than his guest chair that has a broken leg and wobbles enough to make even him a little seasick sitting in it.

“I’m doing quite wonderfully now,” she smiles, and puts her bags on top of his desk, minding the datapads. “I hope you enjoy greasy diner food. Ahsoka showed me this place called Dex’s and while it is in absolute violation of every health code, his food is amazing. I got a couple things. I didn’t know what you liked.”

“I’ll eat anything, ma’am.”

“Fox, how many times do I need to tell you to call me Riyo? We’re friends!” She lightly smacks his wrist and he lets himself smile.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s a habit.”

Five

The unnatural warmth and claminess of his right hand pulls him into consciousness. Blinking awake, he is welcomed by the harsh fluorescent lights above him. He groans and rolls his head over to the right, eyeing the culprit guilty of ruining the first good night’s sleep he’s gotten in months. A small smile creeps to his lips when he sees Riyo fast asleep at the edge of his cot, his hand entrapped in hers.

“Riyo?” He whispers and she sits bolt upright, releasing his hand - much to his own dismay - and straightening her hair.

“Fox. I’m so glad you are alright.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” he huffs, suddenly aware of the ribs broken by the blast.  

“Good, you’re a very dear friend. I would be lost without you.”

He takes her in. She looks like she has hardly slept and her hair is sticking up out of her golden headpiece. He has an overwhelming urge to reach up and tuck it back to where it belongs. He has so many things he wants to say, like that she’s his friend too and that he would be lost without her too because she is the only good thing he has. “Thank you,” he whispers instead, hoping his meaning is still relayed.

Her eyes widen. “For what?”

“For staying,” he whispers, turning his hand over as an invitation for her to hold it again.

Luckily she catches on and does. “You’re very welcome.”

+ One

Honestly, she shouldn’t be surprised that their ship got shot down. When the gunship crashed into the snow, she had thought that it was the end - she had finally died. But then she comes to with Fox shaking her awake.

“Riyo. Riyo!”

She blinks a couple times. “I’m fine. I’m awake,” she swats him away.

He lets out a harsh exhale and his shoulders fall from his ears just a pinch. “We need to move out. Seppies may come to scout the wreckage.”

She nods. “Any survivors?”

“Just you and me. Can you stand?”

Easing herself up she gives him another nod, “Yes. I’m alright. Where do we go?”

“Scanners picked up some caves over to the east. If we move quickly we should make it by nightfall.”

“Okay. Lead the way, Commander.”

With a grunt, he heaves a pack onto his back and pulls himself out of the overturned gunship. She tries not to look at the twisted and contorted bodies at her feet as she accepts his hand and is hauled out. The icy wind of this planet takes her breath away and she gasps.

“Sure you’re alright?” He questions.

In the daylight, she sees the way he is hunched forward slightly, cradling one arm closer to himself than normal. His armor is significantly more scratched and some of the red paint has been chipped off. “I should be asking the same to you.”

He shrugs with the arm he isn’t cradling. “I’ll live.”

“Then I will as well. Let us find these caves.”

They walk in tense silence. When they finally reach an ominous opening to the belly of a mountain, he turns on the lights attached to his helmet and enters. “No life signs. We should be safe here for the night. I sent out a distress signal when we crashed. A squadron will be here by tomorrow morning.”

“That is good news,” she manages through a shiver. It is so, so cold here. Wrapping her arms around herself she tries to suppress even more convulsions.

“I have a blanket, and,” he trails off pulling his pack off of his back. “A small heater. It probably has enough juice to last until pick up. I haven’t seen anything around here that we could burn.”

Night falls quickly and it makes Riyo desperately wish for the sun. If Fox is cold, he isn’t showing it - at least not in the same convulsive manner that she is. She can hardly keep her teeth from chattering. They each have a blanket; she has knees folded up so that the blanket fully envelops her and he has his draped around his shoulders. Wordlessly, Fox rises, shrugging off the blanket, and begins pulling off his armor. He hisses a little when he moves his injured arm and then he is wrapping himself back up in the blanket and crossing the cave floor.

He eases himself down next to her and opens his arms. “Come here,” he grunts.

She doesn’t need to be told twice.

Oh and he is so warm. She drapes her blanket over their legs and he wraps his around their arms. He pulls her into his chest and she folds herself tightly around him. Never in her life has she felt safer than she has in his arms.

“This is nice,” Riyo murmurs.

Fox hums in the affirmative and runs his hands through her hair. “Yeah, this is nice.”

She falls asleep like this, curled in his arms, his fingers in her hair, and waiting for help to come in the morning.

[prolestariwrites]

Ten Years On [1]

Fandom: Nanatsu no Taizai/Seven Deadly Sins Characters: Escanor, Merlin  Warning: Major character death, Angst Rating: T  Part: 1 of 3

My first entry of three for @escalin-week Escalin Weekend 2020. Part 2 and 3 will be published this weekend.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Ten years on, Liones is healed from the Second Holy War. The kingdom is thriving as it welcomes its new king and queen, the losses mourned but not forgotten, the people finding new hope and life in the peace that has settled over all of Britannia. Even Camelot, to the south, is rebuilding and renewing itself, Edinburgh now open and cleaned of death, the Fairy King’s Forest thriving with magic.

Escanor lives a very ordinary life, and for that he is glad. His days had never been ordinary: rather extraordinary, in fact, but he is a simple man who wants simple things and this new life, his third or fourth depending on one’s count, suits him just fine. He has an ordinary wife and an ordinary job and their ordinary home sits in an ordinary town. They are booksellers now, with their own store and everything, paid for by the pensions Meliodas had insisted to give to them for being Holy Knights one or two lifetimes ago.

It had been Merlin’s idea to buy a printing press, and now they publish writings as well. It was a way for her to push him to publish his poems, but she claimed it as selfish so she could put her own work into books. Soon they were well-known publishers of fine fiction and nonfiction, giving them an ordinary but comfortable life in their not-too-big not-too-small town where they raise their daughter.

This life is the easiest so far, his favorite, more so than prince or monster or bartender or knight. It is fitting, he assumes, considering this life was the most painful to create. He had stood on the battlefield, dying, giving his last words to Merlin. She was his sun and his moon, his stars, and he had to tell her, she had to know before he was gone from the world that she was loved. It was all he ever wanted, to love her, to look at her and see that she knew she was loved.

But Merlin had other ideas. It had pained him for quite a while to know she had given up Infinity to save him; after all, what is Merlin without magic? But she waves him away when he opines on the loss she must suffer to this day, telling him that she too always wanted ordinary. They gave up extraordinary together, on that day when she took the power of the gods and used it to sew muscle and skin and bone and breathe into his organs, making him whole.

Whole, and human. Both of them, completely ordinary humans.

They did what humans do: they married. Perhaps the day was just like any other, the ceremony the same, the dress and the cake and the hugs from their friends. Perhaps that night was the same, when they joined the way humans had done since the dawn of time. Perhaps their life is the same, mending socks and buying bread and arguing over whose turn it is to shut the windows. It is an ordinary life, but in its simplicity is something more, more than Escanor could have ever dreamed.

Perhaps there is nothing more ordinary than finding a baby in your arms nine months later. Escanor had cringed a bit at the bright orange hair and brown eyes, having hoped beyond hope that their child would be the image of Merlin; but she had been so pleased, and the moment the baby was laid in his arms he was shocked at the way it stirred something so wonderfully ordinary inside him as love. He had written his best-selling book that very night, hours upon hours of poetry describing the joys of the ordinary.

They had named her Avalon, and the three lived their lives in happiness. Fatherhood was a surprising talent of Escanor’s; he had retained some of the height and strength of the day yet the gentleness of the night, thanks to Merlin’s cleverness with magic. He was the perfect combination of both, a blend of prince and knight and friend. And like any other ordinary human, he thought that it would never end.

Human lives are fragile. Human lives are finite. Unlike the goddesses and demons and fairies and giants who enjoy years unimagined on the earth, whose powers work constantly by soaking up the energy of Briannia and healing all wounds great and small, humans work differently. Their strength is in their mortality, Merlin had told him once; for knowing it all could be gone makes them work harder, care more, invest all. Humans have inherited the earth because they are the only ones who could lose it. Escanor had chuckled at that, only partly understanding, because humans are mortal yet they win over the gods? It was extraordinary.

Today is not ordinary at all. It starts out the same: Escanor rises from the bed, alone, as Merlin often is up with the sun to write or check on an experiment or fill any orders before opening the shop. He washes his face and teeth before checking the kitchen, finding the bread he had left to warm on a little shelf over the hearth and the tea things laid out, his ritual every night so Merlin will have them waiting and ready in the morning.

He stares for a long time at the bread that has grown a bit crusty and the spoon that sits perfectly untouched next to the cup. He does not know how many minutes go by until he shakes himself, deciding to let the little tableau stay for now.

Escanor moves back into the bedroom, his feet quiet on the floor, and begins to dress. Usually he wears a pair of brown breeches and a comfortable linen shirt and a vest over all. Merlin teases him for his plain sense of style, but he reminds her if she wanted to be married to a man who could wear the latest fashions then she ought to have made him a bit shorter and less broad when she rebuilt his body. Of course, Merlin would not change an inch on him, so they leave the bold fashion choices to her.

Today is not ordinary. Today he wears black. Today he does not put on a vest, but a coat, and he does not fumble for the reading glasses he needs now that he is human. Today he must wear a hat.

The shop will not open today, so Escanor sits on his chair, looking out the window. He had spent many days and nights just like this with Avalon in his arms, ignoring Merlin’s warnings he would spoil the child if he did not let the baby sleep. But Escanor didn’t mind, thinking he would carry her forever if needed. 

Where is Avalon now? He frowns for a moment, but remembers she is with Elaine. Yes, Ban and Elaine have the girl, staying with them at the Boar Hat. Ban is the proprietor there now, and even though he would not ordinarily approve of a girl of ten staying at a tavern, it is for the best, for now.

He watches the morning slowly unfold, wondering why the world is so quiet today. Do they know? Perhaps it’s his hearing, and he thinks he ought to see the doctor to check. He is getting on in years, after all.

A knock on the door breaks him from his thoughts. To his surprise, the Grand Master steps inside, but then Escanor remembers. It is a huge honor to be escorted by the Great Holy Knight, and as Howzer’s face turns to him with a sad kindness, Escanor remembers many things.

“Sir Escanor. I am so very sorry.” He strides forward, surety looking well on him. Escanor stands quickly as Howzer takes his hand. “This is a loss unbearable.”

“It’s fine,” he answers.

“Are you ready to go?”

Escanor nods. He lets the knight lead him out, thinking that Howzer will want to take care of him. They ride in the carriage in silence, until it becomes too heavy and Howzer begins to talk of things he remembers, the war they had shared. He is speaking of Istar when they arrive.

“Thank you,” Escanor says.

Howzer nods. “The others are waiting.”

Afterwards, it’s not so bad. Escanor sits at a table in the Great Hall and looks at his teacup. It is not unlike the one back at the house, the one untouched. Only this one has a fine mist rising from inside, and he watches it swirl with some curiosity.

The chair next to him moves and he looks over to see Ban folding himself into it. “You all right?” he asks.

There is a bit of whisky on his breath. Escanor nods. “I suppose I ought to—”

“You ought to do nothing but sit right there,” Ban interrupts. “You don’t do a thing until you’re ready, you hear?”

Escanor nods. “Good,” Ban continues. “I was sent over here to see if you’re hungry, but of course that’s nonsense. So let’s just pretend we are talking to keep the others off our backs, all right? Otherwise you’ll have Elaine and Elizabeth and Diane on top of you, and that’s a punishment you don’t need right now.”

“Of course,” Escanor replies.

Ban nods. He pours himself some tea, and Escanor spies the flask he pulls from his coat. A generous portion goes into the cup before he tops off Escanor’s as well. “There we are. That will help the bite.”

“Thank you.”

Ban drains his cup, but Escanor’s remains untouched. “It’s difficult, isn’t it?” he asks. Escanor glances over as Ban stares downwards. “Being human again, I mean. You and I, we were supposed to live forever. Merlin too, even though whether she was human or not to begin with I never really understood, if I’m being honest.”

It is startling to hear her name, but even more startling is Ban’s honesty. “Yes, it’s strange,” he agrees, not sure what to say.

“Our choices have been made long ago, and I would not take my power back for an instant, because it saved Elaine.” He watches as Ban pours another cup of tea, spiking it again generously before taking a sip. “You must remember that, Escanor. I would never, ever take that power back, even though it made me human. I would give up that immortality a hundred times a hundred to save Elaine.”

The words are registering, but they feel too distant to understand. “I’ll remember,” he says.

“Good.” Ban looks at him now. “We’ll keep Avalon for a while. She and Lancelot get along well, and it’s good for her to be around people. Elaine needs something to do anyway, seeing how the boy can’t stand to be mothered anymore.” He tilts his head a bit. “That all right with you?”

“Yes, yes it’s fine. Good. Avalon… she needs to be around people.”

Ban nods. He pushes to his feet and pats him on the shoulder. “That should keep the vultures at bay a while longer. Sit and stare at your tea, and let Howzer take you home. I’ll send him in a half hour.”

Escanor nods again, thinking in thirty minutes’ time, he’ll need to go home. He’ll go home and retrieve the bread and wash the cup and sweep the kitchen floor in case there are crumbs. He’ll remove his coat and store it away again, and then review the manuscripts waiting on the desk that he has neglected the past week. He will have an ordinary evening at home. 

[bananapajama87]

Bend-The-Knee or be Broken

@aphrarepairweek2020 Day 2: Thunderstrom prompt! Super late, but having fun anyway! A friend/crush fic for RusEng! I just love to think about the mechanics of Nations’ free will and I think (other than Germany) Russia is one of the best subjects for a study on it. I hope my ideas came through clearly :) Ivan Braginsky had a well-known and violently documented dislike for “friendly political visits” but the guest room in England’s lavish country estate had always been one of his least favourite personal hells. 

He paced slowly around his confines, inspecting the impersonal velvety decor that he had begrudgingly become familiar with over the centuries. Its careful design was facetiously inviting and desperate to be impressive. ‘Please, make yourself at home!’  the glowing fireplace seemed to say, echoed mockingly by the diamond chandelier who added ‘because I bet you don’t have things nearly so nice back at yours!’ Every country did this of course, but England always managed to be so wonderfully condescending.Ivan bristled. He never slept well in other Nation’s homes, but something in the night air was making him particularly restless. He hadn’t found the peace of mind to even sit down since he had arrived, despite his duties early the next day. Showpony duties, he thought, The dusty to be an amusing little beast, well-trained and pampered to show off how well his masters are doing. He gripped at the hem of the silky pyjamas he had been issued for trips like these. They were so unlike the cotton tank top and shorts that he wore at home. Ivan glanced around the room again and as usual, his eyes were tugged toward the monstrously large landscape painting looming above the mantle. It was a mirror image of the view outside the room's large window. Temperate, emerald moors bordered darkly by mysterious, hungry woods. He ran an ungloved hand over his scarred throat and thought about his own rugged taigas and unforgiving tundras. He shook his head. It was tacky of England to have a painting of himself in the guest bedroom, even if it wasn’t a portrait. He stalked out the door to see if he could find somewhere less here to be.

Ivan drifted through the hallways, careful not to step on any creaky floorboards. He was making a circuitous path toward the first-floor sitting room. If he remembered correctly, that fireplace was always burning and had comfortable chairs. It was disquieting to think about how intimately familiar Ivan was with England’s home although they had never really been on first name (or even last name) terms with each other. Not that he was with anyone else either… Maybe he could tire himself out reading old newspapers. 

The heavy oak door didn’t creak when Ivan pushed it open. The dying glow of the fire was filling the room with the heavy smell of a quiet night and casting long shadows on the opposite wall. They wavered gently, distorting the shapes of things and making Ivan unsure of where the floor ended and the dark began. Running his hands lightly across the furniture for guidance, he crossed the room silently, coming to a stop in front of the picture window that looked out onto the veranda, and beyond that, those green hills now inky black silhouettes. The moonlight fought valiantly to shine through the thick clouds but was diffused into a mere suggestion of itself. He could smell the humid scent of an oncoming thunderstorm brewing on the other side of the glass.

“Good evening, Russia. Is there something I can do for you?” England’s voice was soft and scratchy with fatigue, and though Ivan would not allow himself to show his surprise outwardly, he felt his heart pick up speed as he turned to look. England was standing in the doorway, hair more dishevelled than usual and an untied housecoat draped over his pyjamas. He was carrying a mug in his hand that seemed to be empty.“No not at all, England. Just trying to admire the stars, but as you can see, it is not my lucky night.” Russia smiled his diplomatic smile and put a gentle pep in his voice that he used for others. He was naturally soft-spoken but he seemed suddenly too loud for the room. England crossed the room deftly, and joined Russia at the window, not needing to try to avoid the furniture in his own house. The top of his head only came up to Russia’s shoulders. “Quite unlucky indeed. A storm’s coming. A big one if I’m not mistaken.” England said, and Ivan knew he was right. His skin had begun tingling with static electricity. They stood in silence, England sipping at the empty mug every so often. Russia sensed that he didn’t know what to do with his hands (or make a graceful exit from the situation now that he had engaged with Ivan). That man had never been able to stop himself from standing on ceremony even if it made him squirm with discomfort as it did now. Ivan chuckled.“What are you giggling about?” England asked, frowning up at Ivan. Ivan looked down at him, his emerald green eyes were glowing with irritation.“Your mug is empty.” Ivan pointed into the empty cup. England’s face went red and he set the mug down quickly on a coffee table and he stuffed his hands in his pockets. 

They were quiet for a while and watched the clouds gather.“Why are you awake, England? Surely you weren’t hoping to stargaze too?” Ivan asked, enjoying keeping England trapped here with him. He wouldn’t be only one miserably tired in the morning.

“Oh, you know. Insomnia. You being here and all, I have a lot on my mind. Lots of things being prepared for your stay and all that,” he said airily, gesturing vaguely with his hands. Ivan noticed the deep circles under England’s eyes and wondered how often he was struck with insomnia. He looked much more human now than Ivan had ever seen him in an official capacity. Stubbly, slouching, and underdressed. Somehow, he felt the need to reassure him.

“No need to go to all the trouble. If I am honest, which I seldom am, I hate the pomp. It is… insincere,” Ivan said, making sure to look away from England’s face before his subject could notice his staring. England ran his hands down his face in exasperation and groaned. 

“Don’t I know it. It’s tax money and organization and time being put into a show for the measly audience of one,” suddenly England realized what he had said and quickly added: “no offence, Russia.” Ivan couldn’t help but laugh again. England seemed to take that as acceptance and continued. “I don’t know of anyone who really likes that pampering. Except maybe Francis. And Alfred. Those two are a pair of egotistical layabouts if I ever saw some.” Ivan nodded, the first names not lost on him. He was reminded that despite England’s prickly disposition, he was in very good standing with the other Nations. Friends, even. “I mean, I don’t even want them in my bloody house but, you know how it is, the boss says you’re a bed and breakfast, you’re a bed and breakfast.” Arthur was leaning his shoulder on the wall now, looking more casual that Ivan had ever seen him. There was an impish smile on his lips, complaining about bosses and other Nations was clearly a favourite pastime. 

“Yes,” Ivan offered, “America has proven many times over the years to be a terrible houseguest, yet he is one of my most constant companions.” Ivan tried to match Arthur’s relaxed posture.

“Right? The boy carves his name into anything and everything he can lay his hands on, and thinks I won’t notice! Three hundred years I’ve had this little estate and he vandalizes the wall panelling! I don’t know how I could have raised him so poorly.” Arthur mimed strangling someone furiously and Ivan smiled.

“Is that what it says on the back wall of the closet in the guest room? I had always wondered. Terrible penmanship.” Arthur went a little red in the ears

“Alfred,” he growled bitterly. This time, when Ivan laughed, Arthur joined in. “Well, I guess, on the whole, being social isn't the worst thing our bosses have made us do, eh?” Arthur poked Ivan in the ribs with his elbow and winked. Ivan forced himself to keep smiling as his stomach dropped to the floor, he did not want to ruin the atmosphere.

“No, I suppose not,” he said, trying to approximate pleasantness in his voice. Arthur was not fooled.“Oh, sorry. The past is a better subject for a younger crowd.” He had his hands back in his pockets and pushed himself up off the wall. His eyes seemed to be trying very hard not to direct themselves towards Ivan's neck. “I’ve been talking to Alfred too much.”

Silence. 

The clouds finally broke and rain finally began to hit the window arrhythmically. For some reason, Ivan didn’t like seeing England feeling guilty on his behalf. Usually, it would be funny but tonight it was not. Unusual. He should say something.“Well,” Ivan tried to sound reassuring, “I suppose that even the past is preferable to America’s company.” Arthur let out a little puff of air that condensed on the cloudy window and smirked.

“You’re a mean son of a bitch, you know that?”

“Coming from you, England, that is high praise.” Arthur let out a barking laugh that made Ivan smile from ear to ear. His own shoulders shook with suppressed snickers. The room felt suddenly larger as if something oppressive had been banished by Arthur’s earnest smile. 

“Call me Arthur, Ivan. We’ve known each other for centuries. It’s ridiculous to pretend like we’re not at least well acquainted.” Arthur looked up at Ivan as he said this, his eyes shining a little from laughter. They were the same colour as the hills outside. Ivan felt warmth in his face that he couldn’t diagnose. 

“Oh, I thought… Well, we have not always been on the best terms, or speaking terms, I’ve been quite hostile to many of your allies, I-”

“Oh please,” Arthur interrupted, rolling his eyes, “that’s Russia. I’m asking Ivan to call me Arthur. Here,” Arthur stepped closer to Ivan and Ivan once again felt his heart hammering, “since I suppose I’m formally meeting Ivan Braginsky for the first time,” he held his hand out. “My name is Arthur Kirkland, hobbyist and amateur murder mystery author.” Ivan had no idea what to do, he felt nervous for the first time in a long time. Other Nations never tried to be familiar with him. Ivan stared at the hand, frozen until Arthur shook his proffered hand insistently.

 “I-Ivan Braginsky. Um, personification and official national ambassador of Russia,” he said. Before Ivan could take Arthur’s hand, it was snatched away.

“Everybody knows that. Tell me something about Ivan!” Ivan was speechless. He hadn’t thought about himself much outside of that in a long time. 

“Uh, brother and,” He felt like he was trying to guess a correct answer, “sunflower enthusiast?” Arthur seemed satisfied because he took Ivan’s hand and shook it firmly. And he smiled. Ivan smiled back.

 The two men stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, watching the rain run little snail trails down the window through which the two men could see the strengthening moonlight. 

“Do you really think that?” Ivan almost whispered. The crackling of the fireplace was setting the volume of the room.

“Think what?” Arthur looked over at him, equally quietly.  

“Do you think we are... real?” Arthur blinked and furrowed his considerable brows. “I mean,” Ivan paused to search for the words, “When your boss tells you to do something, do you decide whether or not to comply or do you just,” Ivan mimed a little salute and clicked his heels, “even if you would rather die than carry out the order?” Arthur nodded understandingly, his face seeming concerned, but what he said sounded like something he had rehearsed to himself. Maybe late on nights like this, where everything seemed small. 

“I have had to accept that I am not human and that here are some choices I don’t get to make. Not like the people I represent. I don’t get to say no, or yes for that matter, unless one of them leads me there. Boss says ‘the peasants are revolting’? I sharpen my axe. The people say ‘parliament rules’ and it’s the king’s head on the chopping block? I sharpen my axe. It’s that or I’m next.” Arthur shrugged. Ivan gulped. He remembered the weight of the gun in his hand and what it was like to point it at starving citizens one day and the royal family the next. “Obviously, we can’t die but, well, you remember what happened to Francis. During the revolution.” Ivan nodded. Everyone had heard about what happened to Francis. He’d pleaded with Robespierre to stop the violence in Paris and been guillotined by his own people. When he woke up, he was out in the countryside where he had first appeared centuries earlier, naked and revolutionary. “We don’t really ever get to choose. Most have decided it’s not worth the effort anymore. Not that I have to tell you that.” Ivan scowled. 

“So… you are saying that it’s bend-the-knee or be broken? That is our freedom? What makes Arthur Kirkland and Ivan Braginsky is - is - obedience with the addition of indignance?” Ivan clenched and unclenched his fists. The first fork of lightning flashed through the sky, for an incalculable instant illuminating the room in a cold white light. The thunder that came after was felt rather than heard. Arthur sighed. 

“It’s certainly not the most inspirational thought, but essentially, yes.” Ivan growled and his arm tensed, itching to hit something. To shatter something, anything. Just to make a difference to something of his own accord. But Arthur was looking at him with a pitying acceptance and understanding that Ivan knew could only ever come from another Nation. Ivan felt the fire inside him go out and he slumped against the window, the glass cooling against his forehead and his breath hot on the glass. 

“Are you alright?” Arthur asked, leaning next to him on the window, his hand dangerously, tantalizingly close to Ivan’s. Ivan closed his eyes and suddenly felt how late it was. He couldn’t summon the energy to open them again.

“This is not a revelation to me. It is just... disheartening to hear it from someone else.” Arthur huffed in agreement. 

“Don’t I know it.” They were silent again. 

 Rumbling from the outside rattled Ivan’s tired brain as he stood half asleep, just feeling the window on his skin and Arthur’s presence. That is until Arthur once again pushed away from the wall and Ivan felt the loss. He looked up to see the other man walking determinedly to the other end of the window. “You know what?” Arthur wasn’t whispering anymore.

“Arthur?”

“I may not get much to myself in this world, but I do get this. I get to be Arthur Kirkland, a stuffy, grumpy, brother, soldier, knitter, terrible cook, and,” He looked back at Ivan and nodded as he pulled a set of keys out of his housecoat pocket, “friend.” he jammed one of the keys in the lock of the veranda door and began to jostle it violently. 

“Arthur?” 

“And I don’t know about you, but I don’t have to be England until tomorrow morning, so tonight,” he threw open the door and was immediately battered by the violent wind and rain. The sound of the door slamming against the wall was camouflaged by another clap of thunder. “I’m gonna do whatever the hell I want.” 

“What are you doing? It’s pouring out there!” Ivan shielded his face from the wind with his arm. Arthur looked back at him with a half-crazed smile Ivan had heard about. It was a famous harbinger of-

“Who says we’re too old for a little teenage rebellion?” He cackled, once again holding out his hand for Ivan to take, inviting him to spend the night doing absolutely nothing but pretending they were going to die someday.

Ivan didn’t hesitate, he took Arthur’s hand in his own, pulled him close by the waist as if ready to lead him in a waltz and sent them both careening out the door and into the storm, their laughter drowned out by the elements.

--