#i was busy being sleepy as predicted

[tatzlyip]

A new meet the artist! Go on and meet me in 2024 now!

[genderless-naper]

healing hearts

trafalgar law x gf!reader

↳ requested, sfw, fluff!

wc: 2.2k, lowercase intended!

after exploring a new island law finds himself having to care for you due to your weak immune system

⇣ credits to the original artist

the island the submarine docked at had a bustling town that was ready to be explored by the heart pirates. you followed your crew mates as they venture through the different stalls and try exotic foods. the overflowing of the townspeople caused you to lose track of your crewmate. you didn’t worry much, and decided to use this opportunity to do some solo exploration.

you talked with some vendors, played with some kids, fed the stray cats, and so much more. at the end of the day you met up with your once lost crew mates at the docked submarine. you all chatted and exchanged experiences regarding the now explored town. you found yourself engulfed in all the fun stories being told, and you hadn’t realized you had started coughing.

the cough wasn’t horrible. it was light enough to be brushed off without a second thought. the only person which the cough raised concerned for was your captain, and beloved significant other. he recognized the patterns of what he called your ‘weak immune system’. it would always play out the same; you go exploring a new area, you meet people and try new things, you seem fine during the moment, but then come down with some of the worst ailment law has seen.

just as he predicted you spent your night in a mess. your cough would become so aggressive it would jolt you both out of your sleep realms. your sneezes would fill the bed with used tissues. an extra bin was readily placed on the floor next to the bed in the situation where you might’ve a bad case of food poisoning and had to throw up. law always prepares supplies the nights he expects you to need them.

this wasn’t the first time your weakened immune system caused law to have to play personal doctor. these strange occurrences leave law to work overtime to be able to cater to your road towards a healthier reality for you. it was natural for him, and be wouldn’t want any other person to be the one to care for you. he made sure he was the only person in attendance to help during these times.

he rubbed your back as you blew into a tissue, “bad night huh? you need to drink some water y/n-ya.”

you blew one last time before responding in a slight raspy voice, “i cant drink anything. my throat hurts too much…”

you attempted to throw the used tissue into the trash, but ultimately missing causing you to sigh in frustration. law sits up in bed and rubs the sleepiness out his eyes. he uses his devil fruit abilities to move the tissues into the trashcan.

he got up to retrieve his kikoku in order to assess your symptoms correctly. he made his way back as he ordered you to lay down and get comfortable. he called out ‘scan’ as he hovered the kikoku back and fourth over your body. once he’s finished he put it away, “it isn’t horrible. it’s just some respiratory virus. were you near anything that could have caused it?”

“i don’t know.”

law didn’t expect you to know the exact cause for your ailment, “it’ll be okay. nonetheless it will take a week or so for you to feel better. maybe this might finally strengthen your immune sy-“

you interrupted the tattooed man as you started to cough up a storm again. law mentally accepted the fact that he would be quite busy for the next week.

throughout the week your symptoms seem to worsen. they would especially peak during the night. law could easily recognize the moments when you were unnaturally out of breath, had a runny nose, slightly puffy eyes, and especially when you’d sleep for hours on end daily. he pitied you because of how susceptible you were to getting sick. when the day for chores came around you protested against the man to let you out of bed, “i need to get my chores done! they’re my responsibility law.”

“i’ll have penguin and shachi complete them.”

you continue to object, “i’m not gonna drag other people into my messes. i’m gonna do them myself.” you tried your best to get out of bed, but in the end your struggles were meaningless. law sat right next to your laying position in bed, and gently rested an arm on your stomach to keep you down.

“you can’t finish your chores if you can barely get up yourself baby. i know you want to help, but as your doctor i need you to focus on getting better first.”

you huffed and shook your head to refuse.

law gave you a look which made you stop your antics. it was an earnest look which alerted you of his serious character, “you need to recover, not do irrelevant chores. you don’t listen to what i say.”

law was tempted to use his authority to command you to listen. the only thing stopping him was that he didn’t want to create a power imbalance between you both. he wanted to show you that he really did care for you instead of just forcing you to listen to what he has to say.

he leans down to your laying position and kissed your hair hoping it will lower your walls, “just let me take care of you y/n-ya”

“but i don’t wanna distract you from your work.”

he shook his head, “it’s not a distraction if it means i get to help you feel better.” he thought of a way to finally convince you, “don’t you always say i work too hard? well i’m taking a break to be with you while you’re sick.”

his logic was too good for you to fight against this time. as you tried your best to find a way to fight back law’s reasoning until a knocking came from the door. you both avert your attention to the door opening.

penguin and bepo poke their heads in. bepo speaks up, “captain! y/n! we were looking all over for you.”

penguin nods, “we’re planning ikakku’s surprise birthday party that’s tonight! you guys have to to make sure you’re there.”

law shook his head and spoke in a protective voice, “y/n is sick. she isn’t leaving from here. the submarine is too cold for her.”

both penguin and bepo whine to the captains response. you pout as you sit up. you gave look a law that could break his heart. it was the saddest puppy eyes he had ever seen you pull.

“but i wanna go to the birthday party…”

law had to stay firm in his decision, “i know you want to go, but we have to focus on you getting better.”

you tried to compromise knowing it would be the only thing to get the logical man to budge, “i’ll bundle up! and i wont have anything that could make me feel more sick! please please please law!”

your pleads were followed by penguin and bepo’s pleads as well. your begs fill the room until the tattooed man’s patience wears thin and he agrees, “you can only go if you’re with me all times. i need to make sure you don’t do something dumb to worsen your symptoms.”

as opposed to the idea as he might’ve seemed law wasn’t that against it. he wanted to make the environment you’re in as comfortable as it could be. that was a difficult task to do on his own since hospitality wasn’t exactly his strength. he figured being with the crew could lift your spirits.

you found the party fun even though your symptoms held you back from doing a lot of things. you couldn’t dance or sing with the members. you had to stay seated on law’s lap as everyone enjoyed themselves. the agreement you two made let law run wild on layering you up. when you questioned why you had to wear 4 pairs of socks he simply stated that he was not taking any chances of the symptoms intensifying. nonetheless you were grateful he cared enough, and agreed to let you have fun during this frustrating time.

your coughing continued their violent attacks. law was next to you during every battle you had against your symptoms. eventually you decided to try to move away from him in fear of infecting him as well.

he immediately pulled you back to him and holds you tight, “what are you doing? we had an agreement y/n-ya. you said you’d be with me the whole time.”

guilt was written all over your face, “i know but..”

“but what? what’s wrong? is something bothering you my love?”

you exhaled, “i just don’t wan’t you to get sick..”

law had to push away a chuckle that threatened to escape him, “not everyone gets sick as easily as you do.”

“hey! that was so backhanded law!” you felt your cheeks redden as the man next to you lets out a murmured laugh.

you crossed your arms and face away from him pretending to be mad, “you’re so rude law. is this how you treat your sick girlfriend??”

you hadn’t noticed a hat being placed on your head. you looked back at law slightly confused just to see law’s ruffled hair without his hat on. you felt the soft plush cover your head, and the brim of the cap hovering over your eyes. the hat looked oversized on you, so law adjusted it to help you see better, “your ears were red. we forgot to cover them up with the rest of you.”

law examined you now fully covered from head to toe (quiet literally). he was proud to see you like this. proud that he was the reason why you were being cared for. he was glad to be the one there for you when you needed it the most. he wouldn’t know what he would do with himself if he couldn’t care for you. it was moments like these he was thankful he committed himself to the research of medicine, and could be the one to care for his loved ones when they need it most.

he pressed a gentle kiss to your still reddened cheek, “hopefully you’ll feel a lot better by tomorrow my sick rabbit”

you giggle at his sudden affection, “sick rabbit? whats that supposed to mean?”

“your nose is red like one. it’s from all that wiping with those tissues.”

you giggled again and rested your body against your boyfriend thankful for the fact that he’s always caring for you.

at that moment you hear the members decide they birthday cake is about to be cut. everyone gathers around ikakku as she cuts the cake with ease. plates of cake were soon being passed around to celebrate. bepo makes his way over to you and law sitting out the way. he held two plates of cake, “i got you guys cake! it’s ice cream cake. we got it from the last island.”

you reach your hand out to take it until law speaks out, “you can have them bepo. ice cream won’t be good for her.”

you were upset, but knew not to argue against law. he was already agreeing to let you do so much when you should be resting in bed. you didn’t want to push his boundaries. disappointment painted your face as the mink rejoins the others taking the rejected cakes along with him.

law senses the shift in your demeanor. he knew he had to stick with his decision, but he couldn’t help to feel bad for you, “i’m sorry y/n. it’s just not the time to have ice cream cakes.”

you hummed quietly, “i know law..”

your shoulders visibly slump as you watched the crew rave about how great the cake is.

the guilt really pulled at law’s heart strings. he didn’t want you to feel left out because of things you couldn’t control. in that moment a lightbulb idea pops into law’s mind, “i’ll be right back baby. wait here for me.”

you were confused as you watched the tattooed man make his away out the room. nonetheless your attention averted back to the crew celebrating and having fun. you continued to eye the cake for a while until law suddenly appears next to you. you figured it was the work of his devil fruit and didn’t question it.

he handed you a mug. you looked at the contents of it. the warmth of the contents emitted steam from the surface which carried a thick chocolate smell. law sits back down in his original position, and pulls you to his lap, “it’s hot cocoa. i know it’s not what you wanted like ice cream cake, but it is warm at least.”

a smile crept onto your lips. although law would prefer you to take something more natural, such as some herbal tea, he knew that you just wanted a treat. sometimes he had the fight the doctor logic in him. he could tell that you’ve been feeling generally disconnected from the crew due to your constant illnesses. if having a treat that wasn’t the best suited for your conditions meant you could find that connection again, then law figured having to take care of you a little longer wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. he would do it as many times as he needed to as long as it was for you.

[littlefluu]

𓍯𓂃𓏧 E N H Y P E N F I C R E C S

AUGUST 19th, 2024 RECOMMENDATIONS

WELCOME TO A SMALL LITTLE COLLECTIONS OF RECENT WORKS I ENJOYED (I was really busy with uni so there isn´t that much new material here! For more recommendations check out my main masterlist) ⤷ GO BACK TO THE MAIN ENHYPEN MASTER LIST WITH EVEN MORE RECOMMENDATIONS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

ALL OF THE MEMBERS

love. f. moments where they realize they are in love or when they fall harder than they did before ᝰ fluff, short scenarios, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Maybe in another universe !? by @leaderwon a. enhypen members texts after you pass away ᝰ sad, angsty SMAU, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

LEE HEESUNG

teeth by @gyuuberryy f, sug. you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy. ᝰ enemies to lovers, vampire!heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

talk tomorrow by @soobnny f. drunken confessions ᝰ best friends to lovers, heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

predictable predicament by @timextoxhajima f,s. so you're best friends with the campus hottie who happens to be the quietest one in his group of friends. he's different with you though. ᝰ best friend! heeseung, fluff, smut in the least explicit way .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK JONGSEONG

7:18 AM by @ashtxrie f. jay surprises a very sleepy y/n with breakfast. ᝰ established relationship, pure fluff, heavy domestic content timestamp, jay x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Naturally by @ikeuverse f,s. ★ jay has always been very private about his love life and physical contact in front of his friends, but a comment from his work colleagues made him rethink some things. ᝰ established relationship, fluff, smut, domestic , chef!jay x fem!reader  .ᐟ₊ ⊹

How you get the girl by @jaylver f, a. ★ Beach parties are supposedly fun and exciting, aren’t they? Wrong. Experiencing college parties is rare for you, but you decided to give this one a go after your best friend’s constant pleas. Things were alright until everything turned sour when trouble found you and eventually you were roped into a fight alongside the campus’ famous hockey playboy. As if that wasn’t enough, the devil himself conjured up an idea that you found yourself being entangled in. It was all fun and games up until confusion arose, feelings being confessed and played, in the end, Jay had to learn how to get the girl, his girl. ᝰ strangers to frenemies to lovers, fake dating au, college sports au, romance, fluff, angst, secret pining, ice hockey player!jay x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SIM JAEHYUN

Car rides by @jlheon f. a sequence of events from your and jake’s senior year ᝰ neighbors to lovers, fluff, highschool au .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SOUL SISTERS f. where layla shows how much she cares about the growing life inside you. ᝰ fluff, heavy domestic content, husband!jaeyun x pregnant!reader, .ᐟ₊ ⊹

break the ice by @jaylver f, a. ★ Punching a guy in the club then kissing him not long after at a hockey game wasn't exactly a fairytale, but for you, it was your reality. The worst part of all it wasn't even the incidents that happened, but the fact that you didn't know him or his name. That was until another stir of events that happened which caused you and him to actually meet, so what was the best way to break the ice after a disastrous punch and a shocking kiss together? A date. It could be love at first sight, or more accurately, it was love at first punch, or … kiss? ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, angst, ice hockey player!jake x afab!reader.ᐟ₊ ⊹

Midnight train (back to you) by @jaylver f, a. ★ You declared to the world that this summer will be yours. Ever since you’ve left home to chase your dream further in Europe, you never dared to look back, leaving your friends and family along with the precious memories there, including your silent love for your closest friend. Years passed, you were making a name for yourself and chasing that fame, settling in perfectly fine and eventually moved on with life. All was well until the transfer window came, announcing a new addition to the men’s first team, who also happened to be your childhood best friend, Jake Sim. Summer in Spain wouldn’t be what it is without experiencing lots of rekindling, heartbreaks, fallout but also a shot at love. ᝰ childhood friends to lovers, college/professional sports au, romance, angst, pining, (slight) slow burn, pro-footballer!jake x pro-footballer afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK SUNGHOON

Insatiable by @moonhoures s. your vampire bf suddenly becomes clingy which can only mean he’s hungry or horny . . . or both ᝰ non-idol!au, vampire!au, smut, sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Fatal trouble by @gyuuberryy f. your roommate is hot. really really hot. and odd too. really really odd. after a strange experience with him, you slowly start distancing yourself from him. but, it becomes exceptionally hard with your feelings coming in the way. how are you supposed to protect yourself if you can’t resist him? the answer is you don’t need to. your fates are intertwined and there's no letting go. ᝰ roommates to lovers, vampire au, soulmate au, vampire!sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MS. & MR. President by @jlheon f. seeing your ex in public leads to hiding in a small photobooth with your annoying student council vice president park sunghoon ᝰ non-idol!au, frenemies to lovers, sunghoon x freader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE by @jaylver f, a. ★ Having a one night stand wasn’t your forte, but with the help of adrenaline, and most definitely not alcohol, you managed to rope yourself into one. Worst part of all was the fact that you didn’t even know his name! The only distinguishable part of him was his blinding white hair. You figured you will never see him again after, but you were so wrong. Your friend practically set you up for failure after convincing you to take her place on a blind date to try and drive the guy away, only for it to be the one you slept with, who also happened to be your mother’s best friend’s son that you met right before that.  ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, comedy, slice of life, angst, (attempted) he fell first but she fell harder, slowburn-ish, ice hockey player!sunghoon x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

RIKI NISHIMURA

supernova by @star-sim f,a,h. riki was the city's top hero, you were the top villain. when your archnemisis pulls up to your apartment late at night, all battered and bruised, you just sighed and took him in. you were a villain, not a monster! ᝰ hero! riki x femvillain! reader, superhero! au, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, a lil bit of angst .ᐟ₊ ⊹

duck by @jlheon f. you want a sonny angel hipper ᝰ Idol bf! nishimura riki x fem! reader, established relationship, fluff .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MY FAVORITE AUTHORS THIS MONTH @jlheon ★ @jaylver ★ @gyuuberryy

[the-teufort-nine]

Okay so I don’t know if you do part 2 requests…but if you do, an aftermath thing of the respawn fic would be sooo good.

I’m thinking it could be something w the ride home, or the few days after everyone gets home or maybe just the months after? And how the mercs treat the Chemist until everything is “normal” again?

If you don’t do part 2 requests that’s just fine!

The story is soooo good omg!!!

The Chemist Reader is back! This is part 2... OF THREE! That's right, I'm doing one more gn!Chem reader fic to finish off this little series. For now though, enjoy just over 9000 words of BLU Chemist and their attempt to get home!

Mercs x GN!Reader | Respawn Malfunction PART 2: The Long Way Home

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ Hurt/Comfort, Team Bonding | SFW, but it veers into talking about NSFW topics near the middle-ish to end| Cw: starvation, temp character death (yes, again!), vomiting, mentions of graphic death, mention of attempted date rape (nothing happens!!), self deprecation ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Featuring:

Everyone! Even Miss Pauling is here! Plus, a familiar, friendly(?) face at the end...

Scenario: After getting rescued from their unfortunate Respawn spot, the BLU Chemist embarks on a road trip back to New Mexico with their team. Everyone wants their attention it seems, but are they really worth all this fuss?

The smell of Engineer’s truck was very similar to that of his workshop; leather, oil, and coffee permeated the air, settling over you like a well-loved blanket. It was a stark contrast from the bitter, sterile cold air of the base you’d ended up in, which was far behind you now. You’d woken up a short time ago, content to simply look out the window in comfortable silence while Engineer drove. You lifted your head from its place on your seatbelt as you felt the vehicle begin to slow, arching a sleepy brow at Engineer. The Texan lifted up his goggles and gave you a comforting smile as he continued to park his truck.

“We’re makin’ a rest stop. You up fer some McDonalds?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

Predictably, you perked up, blanket slipping off your shoulders as you sat up straighter. Fast food had become a rare treat during your time working for Mann Co., and you weren’t about to pass on this opportunity. Engineer chuckled at your reaction and reached over to pat your leg.

“That’s what ah’ thought. Now, you stay right there, and ah’ll go ‘n grab ‘ya somethin’ tah eat.” Engineer said, before opening his door and stepping out into the darkness of the early morning.

As you busied yourself with readjusting your blanket, the door opened again, but it wasn’t Engineer slipping into the seat this time.

“Morning, sunshine!” Soldier greeted, pushing up his helmet slightly to look at you, “The grease monkey has tasked me with guarding you while the others retrieve breakfast!”

“Yeah? Well, I feel safer already.” You replied kindly, before yawning, “No one is dumb enough to mess with you, Sol.”

The man grinned and cracked his knuckles. “If you were not so weak, I would welcome the challenge! I have the strength of a thousand eagles coursing through my veins!”

You glanced down at your arms, missing the muscle that used to be there. You could barely hold the thermos Sniper had given you, let alone any sort of weapon. “Heh, yeah… guess I’m not going to be very useful for a while, huh?”

Soldier’s grin fell as he picked up on your despondent tone. Though he was far from being the smartest man on the team, even he could see that you were feeling upset. He looked at you, really looked at you, and realized that you were even frailer than he’d thought. You looked as though you were one strong breeze away from toppling over, and a surge of protectiveness shot through him. He’d failed you once, but he’d be damned if he allowed you to be hurt again.

“Wipe that sorry look off your face, maggot!” He lightly tapped you on the head, exercising more restraint than he ever had before, “We are a TEAM, and that means that we look out for one another! We will cover for your weaknesses until you have all your glorious strength returned to you, and you WILL get strong again!”

Soldier pushed a finger into your chest lightly, the pressure barely noticeable through your blanket and uniform. “You stared God in the face and then kicked him in the nuts! You clawed your way back from death and made Respawn spit you back out! The RED team will be crapping in their pants at the mere sight of you! Sun Tzu himself would be proud of you, son, and I am proud to call you my friend and teammate!”

Your vision went blurry as fat tears started to form in the corners of your eyes, but you were smiling as you wiped them away. That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to you, even if it was more shouted than said.

“Thanks, Solly.” You sniffed, giving your friend the best smile you could manage, which prompted him to shuffle closer and throw an arm around you, drawing you into his side.

You let your head rest on the space just above his breast, turning slightly so your cheek was pressed against his jacket. He shifted his hold, letting his arm curl around your midsection as you made yourself comfortable. Soldier reached up and took his helmet off, setting it aside for now. Normally, he’d be loathe to leave himself so vulnerable, but he needed to prioritize your safety, which meant insuring that he had the best possible range of vision. What if some communist bastard, or, God forbid, a member of the RED team tried to sneak up on you two? He needed to be prepared!

It was just a little hard to give his surroundings his full attention, though, when he had you resting on his chest. Normally, any kind of touch he got was rough, even if it was a friendly shove or tight, squeezing side hug. This, however, was different; soft and warm and different in a good way. You were totally relaxed, letting your eyes slowly shut as you sighed contently, grateful for the extra warmth. You felt very small in his hold, and that fact made Soldier's stomach flip flop about. On one hand, it was pleasing to know that you felt comfortable enough to fall asleep next to him while you were like this, trusting that he would keep you safe. On the other hand, it was almost terrifying to realize how vulnerable you were in that moment, how easily he could feel bone, where there had once been a healthy amount of fat and muscle. He was used to seeing you as a strong, capable fighter, and while he was sure you could still whip up one of your crazy little mixtures that made people’s faces melt off, you wouldn’t have the strength to use it.

Well, he supposed he’d just have to throw it for you.

Lost in thought, he missed Engineer’s approach, and startled when the driver side door suddenly opened. He cocked his free arm back instinctively, but just as quickly lowered it when he saw Engineer, who was holding an armful of drinks, fries, and hamburgers. The goggle-wearing man chuckled quietly when he saw the situation his normally gruff teammate was in.

You were halfway wrapped around him, cuddling up close in your sleep. Soldier had allowed you to position yourself how you wanted, and you had all but put yourself in his lap, tucking yourself beneath his chin and nuzzling against the collar of his uniform. He awkwardly lifted you up, shuffling into the passenger seat as Engineer slid into the truck next to him, setting down the food wherever there was free space.

“Looks like someone found a comfortable spot, huh?” He joked, unwrapping a cheeseburger and handing it to Soldier, who bit into it hungrily, “Can’t exactly blame ‘em for wantin’ a warm place to sleep, ‘specially after what they’ve been through.”

Soldier hummed in agreement as he swallowed. “I want to let them sleep, but I also want them to eat. They're… worse than I realized.”

Engineer frowned. “Ah know what ‘ya mean, Solly, but the Doc says we gotta be real careful about how much we let ‘em eat at first.”

“What? Why?”

“ ‘Parently their body is gonna need time to readjust to havin’ food in it, and if they eat too much, they'll just throw it right back up.” Engineer explained, “Really, we should be givin’ em a protein shake or somethin’, but ah think they'd choke me out if ah told ‘em they were gettin’ McDonald's, and then didn't give it to ‘em.”

Soldier snorted at the mental image of you grappling with the Texan, but froze up when you groaned and shifted, eyes blinking open. You yawned and rubbed at your eyes, before freezing right alongside your friend when you realized the position you were in. You blushed and leapt back as far as you could go, cursing when the back of your head smacked against the windshield. 

“SHIT!” You yelped, grabbing onto your aching skull as your vision faded in and out. A rush of nausea started tumbling up from your guts, and you all but vaulted yourself out of the car as coffee and hot bile splashed up out of your throat and onto the dusty parking lot ground below.

You gagged and spat, wavering in place as you fought to stay upright. Hands were suddenly on your back, steadying you and at the same time soothing you. The rough voice of your only Australian teammate reached your ears over the sound of your vomiting, and you instinctively leaned into his touch, grateful for the support.

“There ‘ya go mate, get it all out.” Sniper said softly, rubbing the space between your shoulder blades. “I'm surprised ‘ya made it this long without sickin’ up.”

“They alright?!” Engineer called from behind you, a tinge of panic in his voice.

“Yeah, just got a bit of an upset stomach!” Sniper called back, wrapping an arm around you as you finally finished getting everything out of your system. “Come on then, let's getcha’ lyin’ down, yeah?”

“But I'm hungry.” You whined, feeling your stomach growl at the loss of what little sustenance your coffee had provided.

“I know, Roo. I know.” Sniper said sympathetically, “But if ‘ya eat somethin’ now, yer just gonna yack it back up again.”

You grumbled and wiped at your mouth, straightening up as best you could as Sniper led you to his van. By this point, the others had returned from their journey to the holy golden arches, and had realized something was wrong. Scout, who was midway through his second hamburger, almost dropped the damn thing as he rushed over to your side.

“Woah, what the hell happened? I thought they was takin' a nap?” He frowned, before reaching over to fix a part of your uniform that had become uncomfortably tucked, “Yo, Chem, not to be rude or nothin’, but you seriously look like crap. You feelin’ alright?”

“Clearly not, garçon stupide.” Spy suddenly materialized from the darkness of the early morning, a cigarette in his mouth and a sneer on his face, “And I'm sure your incessant yapping isn't helping.”

“Your bloody second hand smoke ain't doin’ wonders either, Spook, so shut yer mouth.” Sniper growled, both to defend his friend and to piss off his teammate. 

“Chemist, would you like to come and ride in style for a while? I assure you that it will be more comfortable than the laborer’s rusted box on wheels.” Spy asked you, pointedly ignoring both Sniper's statement and Engineer's affronted yell.

You thought for a moment, considering your options. You were probably less likely to make a fool of yourself in Spy's presence, especially since you were sure the man wouldn't tolerate your strangely intense need to be close to someone, but on the other hand…

“Can I eat my McDonald's in the car?” You asked finally. Spy wrinkled his nose.

“That disgusting American grease slop? Absolutely not.”

“I'm going with Sniper.” You said immediately, allowing yourself to be led away by the marksman, who was grinning in a borderline feral way at the stunned Frenchman. 

Sniper showed him a very specific, very unkind hand gesture as he helped you up into his camper van. Heavy was sitting in the passenger seat, munching on a box of fries that you would kill a man to have right now. Demo was lounging on one of the kitchen chairs, but sat up when he saw you and Sniper approach. 

“Finally managed to steal ‘em away from Engie and Solly, eh Snipes?” Demo greeted, though his face fell a bit when he saw how heavily you were relying on Sniper. “Ack, what's wrong, Chem? Not feelin' too well?”

“Something like that.” You murmured, head lolling slightly. Now that a bed was in sight, another nap really didn't sound too bad.

“Here ya go mate.” Sniper gently lowered you down, making sure not to jostle you too much, “Now, I know you want yer Macca’s, but I've got some Vegemite an’ toast and some hot lemon with Manuka honey that you can have in a bit, and it'll stay down much easier, I promise. Me mum used ta give me that when I was sick, and it did wonders fer me.”

“Sounds good.” You replied, not even really taking in what he said. He was talking about giving you food, and that was all your sleepy brain needed to know.

A woolen blanket was pulled over you, and a warm, calloused hand ran itself through your hair before slowly lifting your protective goggles off your head, setting them aside somewhere. The hand returned for a moment, gently pressing against your forehead, lingering there for just a heartbeat longer than maybe it needed to, before slowly retracting. You frowned at the sudden lack of touch, but there was little you could do to call it back.

Admitting you needed it was a weakness you weren't quite ready to voice yet.

“Come on now, laddie, time to wake up. Yer breakfast is ready.”

You groaned and cracked an eye open, blinking slowly at Demo, who was sitting on the bed. You pushed yourself up, eyes gravitating towards the tray your teammate was holding. There was a plate with two warm, buttered slices of toast topped with a thin layer of Vegemite spread, cut into four individual triangles, and a mug of what smelled like lemon and honey, just as Sniper had promised.

“Can I please eat that?” You begged, uncaring of how desperate it made you sound.

“Well, it ain't for ye to look at.” Demo joked, startling slightly as you snatched a piece of toast and practically all shoved it into your mouth. “Jesus! Slow down there, Chem! You'll make yerself sick again.”

You growled at the demolition expert, baring your teeth when he moved to try and reach for your hand. You hadn't eaten in nearly two days, your body had been robbed of anything it could feed off of, and Demo wanted you to slow down?

Hah, fat chance.

The Scot held his hands up in surrender, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. Also, he didn't feel like losing a hand, not when Medic was riding in a different car.

You scarfed down the Vegemite toast, your body rejoicing as precious, precious salt finally entered your mouth. Normally, you'd turn your nose up at the salty spread, but at that moment, that piece of toast may as well have been a gift from God himself.

If you threw this up, you were actually going to cry.

With that thought in mind, you slowed down, taking the time to carefully chew your mouthful before swallowing. You let what you ate settle before you dared to try and ingest anything else. When your stomach didn't turn, you reached for the mug, blowing lightly on the liquid before taking a tentative sip.

It was very warm, but not so hot that you couldn't drink it. The lemon washed away the awful taste of vomit that lingered in your mouth, and the honey soothed your dry throat like nothing else. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to bask in the warmth and comfort.

“Holy shit,” you croaked, setting the mug down as you turned to face Demo, “that tasted so good. We need to have Sniper make dinner more often or something, because he clearly knows what he's doing.”

“He said his mum taught him how to make it, and mums always know how to make somethin’ that makes ‘ya feel better.” Demo said, handing you another slice, “Now, slowly this time. I mean it! ‘Ya looked like a bloody wild dog just now.”

“Cut me some slack, D, I'm literally starving over here.” You said as you bit into the toast, “I think I'm allowed to have some bad table manners, yeah?”

“Aye, I suppose ‘ya got me there.” Demo conceded, though he still looked concerned, “ ‘m just worried about ye throwing it up before yer body can digest it.”

You nodded, chewing and swallowing what was in your mouth before replying.

“I know. I don't wanna puke again either. It's just-” You took in a breath, ignoring how even that simple action was harder than usual, “I'm so fucking hungry. I feel like my stomach is going to burn right through my abdomen, but I know I can't eat too much too quickly, or I'll just be sick again.”

Demo patted your shoulder, giving you a pitying look. “It'll be alright, Chem. The hard part’s already over. Ye survived the impossible and made it back to us, now it's our turn to help ya get back to yer old self.”

“Yeah.” You said quietly, looking at your reflection in the mug’s liquid. A gaunt, pale mockery of your face stared back. You could hardly even recognize yourself, and a small, dark part of yourself wondered if you ever would again.

“My old self.”

The next time you all stopped, it was well into mid morning. Sniper had pulled into the parking lot of a motel, Spy and Engineer following after him. Apparently, the only people with valid driver's licenses were you, Sniper, Engineer, Spy, and Miss Pauling, and you were all either exhausted or in no condition to be driving. Therefore, you were booking rooms at this dinky little motel so that they could rest and not kill all of you by falling asleep at the wheel.

It was Heavy that led you into the building, letting you lean against him for support. He’d offered to carry you, but you wanted to preserve some sense of dignity, if you could help it. Also, you figured it might upset your team further if they thought you couldn’t even walk. Pyro already looked ready to pounce everytime you wobbled, and you weren’t oblivious to the concerned looks Engineer and Spy were giving you.

“маленький химик will be staying with Doktor. He wants to do check up, to make sure there is not any hidden problems.” Heavy explained, before lowering his voice, “Heavy knows you are tired, but please go along with it. Doktor is very worried, even if he does not say it.”

“Don’t worry, Heavy, I’ll behave.” You promised, “I could do with sleeping a little less anyway. 

Heavy nodded and led you to your room, handing you the key for it. You unlocked the door and pushed it open, smiling at Medic, who was unpacking various syringes and pills from a bag and placing them next to his Medigun.

“Ah, Heavy, Chemist, right on time!” he greeted, walking over to you two. 

Quick as a whip, he pulled up your sleeve and injected you with a clear liquid. You yipped in surprise, rubbing the sore area as he withdrew the needle. “Ouch! What the hell was that?!”

“Magnesium Sulfate!” he replied cheerily. “I also have a shot of Thiamine and Potassium I need to administer before I give jou more vitamin tablets.”

“Couldn’t I just have taken a magnesium tablet?” You questioned in a deadpan voice, unnamused with your colleague’s method of getting you to take your vitamins. Heavy patted your shoulder one more time before leaving the room, likely to go and find his own.

“Ja, but zhis is much quicker, und I know it vill actually stay in jour body.” Medic waved one hand animatedly, the other one reaching for another syringe, “Herr Sniper told me jou vomited earlier, und that jou didn’t finish your breakfast.”

“I couldn’t. I felt full after two slices of toast and a couple of sips of my drink.” You groaned, flopping down onto your bed, “I didn’t even get to have my cheeseburger. It’ll be all cold and gross now.”

“I’m sure jou vill have another chance to get one.” Medic comforted as he jabbed your arm with another needle. You winced, but said nothing. “Ve are still about 10 hours away from zhe base.”

“We are?” You asked, sitting up abruptly, “Jesus, how far out was I?”

“The base jou respawned in was in Montana. Currently, ve’re somewhere in Wyoming.” Medic rubbed his chin, thinking, “To be honest, I have no idea how or vhy jou ended up so far away. Jou should have respawned in a much closer location, or not at all!”

“Yeah, it doesn’t make much sense to me, either.” You said, rolling up your other sleeve as Medic produced the final shot, “Maybe that one was the last one that was activated? Are there… are there other RED and BLU teams that use them?”

Medic paused, considering.

“I… am not sure.” he said finally, gently taking your offered arm into his hands as he pressed the needle into your skin, “I haven’t heard of any other teams, but I suppose it's possible. It's as good an explanation as any.”

“Well, I’m glad it brought me back.” You said, glancing up at Medic, “I gotta admit, I was shocked to see you guys. I can’t believe you all drove to Montana just for me, especially Miss Pauling.”

“Vell, vhy vouldn’t ve? Jou vould do the same for any of us, ja?” Medic asked, putting a bandage over your injection sites.

“Well, yeah, of course.” You replied quickly, “But, wouldn’t it have been easier to just… get a new Chemist?”

Your eyes had flicked towards the floor, so you didn’t see the way Medic tensed up. The German curled his hands into fists for a few seconds as he took a deep, calming breath. “Vhat do you mean?”

“Well, there’s not really anything special about me. I mean, Scout can run faster than anyone, Soldier is completely fearless, Heavy is, like, the strongest guy ever, Sniper could shoot a bat out of the night sky, Pyro makes even the toughest men afraid just by breathing near them, Demo can make crazy explosives, Engie can make anything, Spy can be anyone, and you can successfully play God on a daily basis!” You said, listing off everyone’s skills, “And then there’s… me. I mix chemicals and throw them at people. Pretty much anyone could do my job.”

“Jou believe jourself to be disposable.”

You cringed slightly at Medic’s cold tone. “I guess. I might have said it in a nicer way, though.”

You watched as Medic took a deep breath in, said something quietly under his breath in German, and then walked over to his bag and retrieved a few vitamins before striding back over to you.

“Take zhese, und don’t move. I vill be back.” he said, before exiting the room.

You tilted your head and frowned as Medic closed the door behind him. You felt as though you had upset your teammate, but you weren’t exactly sure how. Nothing you said had been untrue, after all.

Popping the tablets into your mouth, you made yourself comfortable, positioning your pillows so they supported your back as you lay down. The covers of the bed were cheap and scratchy, but the room was slowly warming up, and you could deal with a little discomfort. After an embarrassing amount of time and effort, you managed to wiggle your way under the blankets. A TV sat on the dresser on the other side of the room, but you couldn’t see the remote for it anywhere. You’d have to ask Medic if he’d seen it when he came back from wherever it was he’d wandered off to.

About 10 minutes passed, and you were, annoyingly, beginning to nod off again, when suddenly your door opened once more. You leaned forward, eyes widening when you realized that everyone was walking into your room. 

Soldier and Demo came in first, making themselves at home at the foot of your bed. Scout, a very tired Miss Pauling, and Pyro came in next. Scout was quick to drape himself across the middle of your bed like a cat, while Pyro flopped down next to you.

Apparently, your bed was the best seat in the house to your teammates.

Sniper and Spy followed after them, both exhausted men scowling at each other but refusing to disperse too far into the room, both of them determined to stay near you. Engineer, who was holding a cup of shitty motel coffee, claimed one of the plush, cigarette-scented seats that sat in the room’s corners after he walked in. Finally, Heavy and Medic entered, with Heavy moving over to sit on his companion’s bed. The large man shot you a questioning look, but all you could offer him was an equally confused shrug. You didn’t know what was going on.

“Docteur, I assume you have a reason for interrupting our rest so early into our stay?” Spy groused, reaching for his cigarettes.

“Of course, Herr Spy.” Medic replied, before turning to Miss Pauling, “Fräulein Pauling, vhy did you go to retrieve our Chemist?”

Everyone in the room turned to look at Medic with a look of confusion. Why would the doctor ask such a thing?

“Wh- because they needed help?” the raven haired woman waved her hands around, “Why wouldn’t I go get them?”

“Vould it not simply be easier for us to let zhem die und replace zhem?” Medic asked, and you winced slightly, hearing your own question spoken in such a way. You hadn’t used the word ‘die,’ but it had been implied.

At Medic’s words, the room erupted into noise, your team wasting no time in jumping to your defense.

“Yo, Doc, what da hell?!” Scout shouted, pushing himself up. He quickly turned towards you, holding his hands up, “Don’t listen to that guy, Chem. He must’a taken too much of his own stock.”

“Now where the hell is this comin’ from?” Engineer spat, roughly slamming down his coffee. “We would never just- just replace Chem! ‘Specially not when we knew they were alive!”

The other mercenaries shouted out various forms of agreement, some of them looking just about ready to jump the man.

“Doktor spent many nights contemplating shredding application forms for new Chemist.” Heavy added, sending his friend a questioning yet stern look, “You should explain yourself, старый друг.”

“I vas simply asking questions zhat our Chemist asked me only a few moments ago.” Medic replied calmly, clasping his hands behind his back. “It seems as zhough they believe zhemself to be disposable, zhat zhey did not deserve to be saved, because zhey believe zhat ve could replace zhem easily.”

The eyes that had been on Medic shifted to look towards you, and you shrank down as much as possible. You would have felt more comfortable if they’d pointed a loaded gun at your head.

“Chemist,” Miss Pauling started, “do you know why the Administrator sent me to recruit you?”

You shook your head.

“Well, the first reason is because the DNA sample I took from you proved that you were Respawn compatible.” she started, pressing her hands together, “The second reason is because when you saw some guy trying to roofie me in a bar, you stole his drink, spiked it with a specialized mixture that you created, and then you convinced him to chug it by betting him five bucks that he couldn’t. Do you remember what happened next?”

“He went to the bathroom because he didn’t feel good.” You recalled with a smile, “Then he melted.”

“Yeah, because you spiked his drink with something that, upon contact with stomach acid, turned into fluoroantimonic acid!” Miss Pauling exclaimed, “A regular person could never do that! Hell, even an experienced chemist couldn’t do half the things you do!”

“Jesus Lord Almighty!” Engineer chuckled, pushing up his goggles to look you in the eye, “Remind me to never make you angry.”

“Point is,” Miss Pauling drew your attention back to her, “You are not disposable. It would be easier to clone you then it would be to replace you, because you are smart, talented, and just as batshit insane as the rest of these bloodthirsty lunatics. No offence, guys.”

Your team nodded along with her words, giving you reassuring looks.

“She’s right! Yer absolutely cracked, but yer one of us!” Demo crowed, lifting his Scrumpy bottle to toast you.

“HUDAH HUDAH HUDAH!” Pyro cheered, wrapping you up in a warm, tight hug. You grinned and shoved your face into their shoulder, tears wetting your eyes as you nuzzled the blue material.

“Congratulations, you have learned what everyone here already knew.” Spy said, patting you lightly on the back as you lifted your head to peek back at him, “I will be taking my leave now. Do not wake me again unless zhe building is on fire.”

“I hate to agree with Spoi, but, yeah,” Sniper nodded, reaching over to ruffle your hair, “I’m about to drop ‘mself. I’ll see you all at dinnah.”

“Ah’ll see m’self out as well.” Engineer said, getting to his feet, “Get some rest, darl’. We’ll get you somethin’ decent fer dinner.”

“Any chance we can have a sleepovah, Doc?” Scout asked, breaking out the puppy dog eyes.

“Nein.” Medic said firmly, planting his hands on his hips. 

“Worth a shot.” Scout sighed, giving you a fistbump as he slid off the bed. “Ey, Chem, no more talkin’ crap about my best friend, or I’m gonna have to lay down the hurt, understand?”

“YES!” Soldier agreed loudly, “IF I HEAR YOU PUTTING YOURSELF DOWN AGAIN, I WILL BEAT THE CRAP OUTTA YOU! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!”

“Yes sir.” You replied, giving him a salute as Pyro reluctantly pulled away. They reached into one of their pockets and withdrew a box of matches that had been decorated with crayon. Pyro tucked it into your hands and pressed their gasmask against your head in an almost kiss-like way.

The rest of the team and Miss Pauling shuffled out of the room one by one, each of them waving goodbye or acknowledging you in some way before they left. Medic fixed you with a kind, if mildly smug look as the last of your team left.

“Do jou still see jourself as disposable, mein Chemiker?”

You didn’t quite understand what his last words had been, but you managed to infer that he was saying your name, so you nodded, smiling. “No. Not at all.”

Medic matched your grin with one of his own, though the doctor’s showed far more teeth. “Wunderbar! Now, let’s get zhe rest of zhose vitamins in jou! Ve have so many to get zhrough!”

By the time dinner had rolled around and your team had started to wake up, Medic had given you enough vitamins and nutrient boosters to kill an elephant. He’d also done a thorough examination of your insides, which included him setting the Medigun to low, switching it to automatic mode, and cutting you open from collarbone to pelvis. He had been quite happy to inform you that your organs had not been affected by your turbulent trip through Respawn.

Thank God you’d insisted on laying in the bathtub.

Engineer had knocked on your door as you were finishing getting dressed, and when you opened it, the Southerner revealed that he had gone out and found you something that you could both eat and that wouldn’t taste like garbage.

“It ain’t smoked brisket ‘n biscuits,” he commented as he set down a banana smoothie and a small fillet of salmon, “but I reckon it’ll do.”

“Engie, I could kiss you right now.” You warbled, close to crying.

The man flushed scarlet and rubbed at the back of his neck, but you were too focused on the food to notice. Engineer and Medic stepped out to get their own dinners, leaving you to enjoy yours. 

The salmon was still warm, seasoned with a pinch of salt and a squeeze of lemon, and it yielded easily to your plastic fork. It went down easily and, more importantly, stayed down, even when you started to tentatively sip the banana smoothie. The smoothie was cold, smooth, and probably loaded in things that were good for you.

“I see zhat zhe laborer has finally managed to procure you a decent meal.”

You jumped slightly, scrambling to catch your drink as it slipped from your grip. Spy leaned against your doorway, arms crossed in a casual way as he watched you eat. He looked much more rested, the bags around his eyes having retreated.

“Do you feel sick at all?” he asked, arching a brow.

You shook your head. “Nah, Medic loaded me up with some stuff that's supposed to help me keep food down. You’d have to ask him exactly what it was, though.”

“Perhaps I shall.” Spy replied, “Come, mon féroce petit scorpion, you can finish your drink in zhe car.”

“But I thought I wasn’t allowed to have food in your car?” You questioned, wiggling forward towards the edge of your bed.

“I will make an allowance, just zhis once.” The masked man said, offering you his arm.

“Don’t want Sniper to scoop me up again?” You teased.

Spy’s nose wrinkled in displeasure. “Non. Zhe bushman does not look as zhough he got an adequate amount of sleep, and I will not risk your safety when we just got you back.”

“Awww,” you cooed, causing Spy to jerk his head away in embarrassment, “you big softie. I knew you loved me.”

“Dieu, sauve-moi de ma grande gueule et de mon cœur faible.” Spy muttered, pressing his free hand to his head.

“No idea what you just said there, pal.”

“Zhat is zhe point.” The Frenchman replied.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. I’ll just get Scout to translate for me later.”

Spy shot you a confused look as you stepped outside. “Scout? Please, zhat illiterate cretin doesn’t speak French! He barely speaks English.”

“That’s what you think.” You insisted, raising your eyebrows, “I’ve heard him singing in French sometimes. Sounded to me like he knew exactly what he was saying.”

Spy’s brow furrowed, and the two of you fell into silence as he helped you to his car. 

The interior of Spy’s car was just as luxurious as you imagined. Black leather seats were warm beneath your touch, and it was kept immaculately clean. You felt kinda bad even sitting in it, let alone bringing any kind of food or drink inside, but Spy had insisted, so you took your offered seat, which was the passenger seat.

“What kind of car is this?” You asked, carefully laying the blanket Spy had brought over your lap, just in case some of your smoothie somehow managed to leak.

“She is a Bizzarrini 5300 GT Strada.” Spy replied, reverently running a hand over the wheel as you whistled, “Gorgeous, non?”

“Absolutely.” You agreed, “I feel like I shouldn’t even be in this thing, it’s so nice.”

“You cannot possibly be a worse passenger than Scout.” Spy said, a hint of humour in his tone, “I can tell you are being careful. Relax, mon ami.”

You nodded, smiling shly.

Suddenly, the back doors opened, and Pauling, Medic, and Pyro all piled into the back.

“Herr Spy,” Medic started, “If jou wish to avoid a confrontation with Herr Sniper und Herr Engineer, I suggest jou start driving. Now. Zhey are not pleased zhat you whisked zhe Chemist away.”

“Well, zhey can, as Scout so often says,” Spy grinned sharply as the two aforementioned men burst out of the motel, yelling in the direction of the expensive car, “‘suck my dick.’”

You whooped in delight as Spy peeled out of the parking lot, laughing as a rush of wind blew against your face. Through your delighted giggles, you managed to buckle yourself in, grinning so wide your jaw ached as you saw both Sniper’s van and Engineer’s truck fly out onto the dusty road after you. Pyro laughed right alongside you, while Miss Pauling and Medic struggled to right themselves after gravity smushed the small woman into the doctor’s side.

“I didn’t know you were a speed demon!” You cheered, shouting to be heard over the wind.

“I do not often get to indulge, but,” Spy’s eyes twinkled with excitement, “yes, I do enjoy using zhe power my vehicle affords me.”

He adjusted the mirror, the orange light of the setting sun glinting in its reflection. “But even more so do I enjoy zhe thrill of a chase.”

Sure enough, both of the other vehicles were steadily gaining, and if you squinted, you could see both Sniper and Engineer gritting their teeth and glaring at Spy’s car.

“Why are they chasing us?” You questioned, confused.

“Because I have something zhey want.” Spy replied, shooting you a sideways glance, “Or, rather, someone.”

Your face suddenly felt very warm.

Maybe you had been wrong before. Maybe you really could have asked Sniper to keep his hand on your head. Maybe you didn’t have to leap off of Soldier’s lap, automatically assuming he was uncomfortable.

Maybe your teammates would be just fine with you desperately seeking their attention, their touch.

‘WOAH THERE NELLY!’ Your internal thoughts threw up a great big STOP sign, whacking you on the head with it, ‘Let’s change THAT line of thinking right now!’

Jesus Christ you needed to reread the dictionary definition of a ‘professional workplace relationship’ because clearly you had forgotten what it meant!

Quiet, ashamed, and unwillingly thinking about calloused hands brushing against your skin like some Victorian-era harlot, you returned to sipping your banana smoothie.

It was still very good. Just like the salmon Engineer had gone well out of his way to get specifically for you.

Stop stop stop stop.

Or like the blanket Spy had picked out and bought for you because he knew you would be cold, or like the hot lemon with special honey Sniper had made you, because he thought it would make you feel better.

STOP STOP STOP STOP!

‘They’re racing for you.’ A silky, pleased part of yourself whispered, ‘They’ve been fighting over your attention since you joined them, it’s just become much more obvious now. You could go right up to any of them, and they’d be more than happy to give you some attention.’

S H U T   U P

Suddenly, the car swerved, jerking you out of your inner torment. Your straw, which was still inside your mouth, jabbed into the back of your throat. You gagged on reflex, slapping a hand over your mouth as the urge to vomit washed over you. You grimaced, winced from the pain, and breathed slowly in through your nose as Spy swore out the window.

“Espèce de chauve-souris stupide et aveugle! Quittez la route avant que je décide de vous y forcer!” he snarled at a vehicle that had veered into the wrong lane, huffing as he leaned back. He glanced over at you quickly, his expression becoming more concerned when he saw the look on your face. “Y/N? Are you alright?”

You swallowed, and sighed in relief when your stomach settled again. “I’m okay. Just got a bit jostled.”

“Do you need me to stop?”

You waved Spy off. “No, I’m fine, really. Just, maybe slow down a bit? Just until we’re back in the country.”

Spy nodded and eased off the gas, Sniper and Engineer following suit.

“Zhat is probably for zhe best. Zhe last zhing we need is to start a police chase.” Spy conceded.

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be good.” You frowned, “I think at least half of us probably have warrants out for our arrest somewhere.”

“More than half.” Both Medic and Miss Pauling chimed in from the back.

You nodded, leaning back in your seat. You thought about that; about who might be wanted for what. It was a decent distraction from your previous thoughts, and you welcomed it. Turning to look out the window, you watched as the sunsetting twilight changed into a beautiful, starry night sky. Come morning, as long as things stayed on track, you’d be home.

Spoiler alert: things did not stay on track.

You had been making your way through Colorado when it happened. You and Spy had been listening to a local radio station while Pyro, Miss Pauling, and Medic snoozed in the back. You would have been asleep too, but something about the clouds that had rolled in made you nervous. Just as Spy had been reaching to change the station, a sharp, piercing alarm sounded out from the radio.

“Alert! A tornado warning is being issued for the Limon area! All residents are urged to seek shelter immediately! Please gather up all children and pets and make your way to a basement or interior room! Avoid all windows and objects that may prove hazardous if they fall! If you are in a mobile home, in a vehicle, or are outside, please make your way to the nearest secure building!”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” Spy gaped, looking frantically at the sky. The darkness brought an extra level of danger, and you felt your heart leap up into your throat.

“Is there even anywhere to shelter out here?!” You asked, your eyes darting about as you stuck your head out of the window. All that you could see was a flat expanse of fields that stretched out forever into the dark.

“Whuz goin’ on?” Miss Pauling groaned, rubbing at her eyes.

“Oh, nothing much.” You laughed nervously, “Just, uh, a tornado.”

“Was? Ein Tornado?” Medic said blearily, sitting up.

“Oui.” Spy confirmed grimly. He reached over to the radio and tuned it to a very specific frequency. “Bushman, laborer, I assume you have received zhe same warning?”

“Yeah mate.”

“Same here.”

“I suggest we make a break for zhe nearest town. It is only about a mile away.” Spy offered, pressing down on the gas pedal.

“Not like we got many options. We’re sittin’ ducks out here.” Engineer’s voice crackled through the car speakers. “You lead, we’ll follow.”

You put your window up and tightened your seatbelt, glancing back at the backseat passengers. “Can you guys wake Py up? We’ll wanna be ready to go once we stop.”

“Jawohl.” Medic agreed, reaching an arm behind Miss Pauling to gently nudge the firebug.

Spy treated the dark road like it was a professional racetrack, the engine of his car growling like a wild beast as he shot across the asphalt. You kept your eyes trained on the sky, cringing when a flash of lightning revealed a green sky. 

“Man, we really have just the worst luck, huh?” You muttered.

“It is starting to seem that way.” Spy growled, his gaze anxiously flicking between the road and the ever worsening sky.

“What do we do if we get to town and there’s nowhere to hide?” You asked.

“We keep driving and pray we can get ahead of the storm.”

You gulped audibly.

Soon, the silhouettes of buildings came into view. As you passed the town sign, hail started to pour down. The little pellets of ice crashed against the car, bouncing off the windshield and tumbling down the road as the wind swept them away. You peered out into the storm, searching for a suitable hiding place.

“There!” You exclaimed, pointing towards a small, rundown mechanic shop. The sign was in pieces and graffiti covered the garage door, but the building itself looked stable.

“It will have to do.” Spy said, pulling off the road.

You hopped out of the car once it came to a stop, grunting when a powerful blast of wind pushed you against the vehicle. Strong hands suddenly gripped you, and you found yourself pulled against Miss Pauling, who was going her best to dig her heels into the ground. Medic and Spy came up on either side of you, helping to buffer the wind as Pyro ran to the side door, axe in hand.

Your little group of four made it to the door just as Pyro managed to break the lock. The arsonist let you in, holding the door as the rest of your team made a run for safety. The inside of the mechanic shop was dark and dusty, but the thick concrete and steel was a source of comfort. 

“Is everyone alright?” Engineer asked, dusting hail off his shoulders.

Everyone made various noises of affirmation, fixing their own outfits and looking around the place. Scout skittered over to you and Pauling as a loud thunderclap rumbled outside, the runner not so subtly positioning himself next to you.

“Jeeze, you sure this place’ll hold up?” He asked, nervousness leaking into his voice.

“It’s better than being exposed outside.” Miss Pauling replied, before gently taking your hand, “Come on, Chem, let’s find somewhere to sit.”

You followed dutifully, Scout trailing along behind you. Miss Pauling managed to find some milk crates after many minutes of blindly feeling around in almost complete darkness before you remembered that you had been gifted a box of matches, and the three of you set them up in the middle of the room. You took off your blanket and shucked off your lab coat, laying them across the crates to act as a cushion. You could feel the chill of the shop creeping into your bones, but you ignored it, settling down in between Demo and Heavy. 

“We’ve got some absolutely shite luck, lads.” Demo frowned, glancing towards the barricaded side door, “We could’a been near home by mornin’ if this damn tornado hadn’t come outta bloody nowhere!”

“My thoughts exactly.” You murmured, “Hopefully it blows over soon. We don’t exactly have any supplies prepared.”

“Hrr yuh filn righh?” Pyro asked.

“Yeah, Py, I’m okay. I can’t eat for another few hours anyways.” You reassured the arsonist.

“You gonna be warm enough in here? It’s kinda chilly.” Scout said, shuffling a bit closer to Pyro, who was always a good source of heat. The pyromaniac let the runner lean on them, amusing themself by lighting matches that they kept producing from God only know where.

“I’ll be fine. I can suck it up for a bit.” You replied.

Medic tsked from somewhere to your right, and, after a few moments of shuffling, you felt something warm being draped over your shoulders. It was kind of heavy, and when Pyro lit another match, you caught a glimpse of Medic’s Class symbol on the arm.

“Thanks, Doc.” You smiled softly, slippin the coat on.

“Zhink nothing of it. Jou are lacking jour usual body fat, and thus require additional help to keep jourself warm.” Medic said matter of factly.

“Hey Chem, I can think’a somethin’ that’d help warm you up real fast.” Scout called in a teasing, flirtatious tone, the Bostonian laughing before someone’s elbow made its way into his gut at a rapid pace.

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’d like to be fucked for longer than 30 seconds.” You shot back, smirking when a chorus of ‘Ooooohs’ sounded out from your teammates.

Scout made a ‘pshh!’ sound and crossed his arms. “Uh, first of all, it wouldn’t be ‘30 seconds’, prick, second; whaddya mean you “think” you’d wanna be fucked longer than that? You a virgin or somethin’?”

“Scout,” Spy hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “use what few brain cells you possess and display a modicum of decorum, please.”

Your face turned a lovely shade of pink as you laughed awkwardly. “Well, uh…”

“Y’ don’t have to answer him, Chem. Lord only knows that boy needs to learn to stop runnin’ his damn mouth.” Engineer added, shooting a pointed look at Scout, who threw his hands up, exasperated.

“No, it’s fine.” You rubbed at the back of your head, feeling sheepish, “I am. A virgin, I mean. People didn’t exactly want to bang the weirdo who spent most of their time putting bugs in formaldehyde and playing with a kids chemistry kit, and then I started working with you guys, soooo… yeah.”

The room fell into a tense, awkward silence, broken only by the sound of the howling wind outside.

“I would.” Soldier said suddenly.

10 heads turned towards the helmet wearing man.

“What?” he asked, not a trace of shame in his voice. “The Chemist is a brave, capable, AMERICAN teammate who I have personally witnessed melt THREE RED bastards at once! The only way they could be more attractive is if they were the Statue of Liberty itself!”

Spy started to say something, but Demo cut him off.

“I gotta agree with Solly there, lads.” He nodded sagely, “Not about the statue bit, but yer a bonnie sight, Chem.”

“Too right.” Sniper piped up, his blush almost invisible in the infrequent matchlight Pyro provided.

“Sacrebleu, are you all truly going to salivate over our Chemist like a pack of wild dogs right in front of zhem?!” Spy yelled, gesturing towards you.

You were doing your very best impression of a well cooked lobster while trying to process what was happening at the moment, and thus did not really take in his statement.

“Now Spy,” Engineer teased, pushing up his goggles slightly to fix the masked man with a knowing look, “don’t go acting like you’re any better than these boys. You’ve either been struttin’ around like a peacock or poutin’ like a kicked puppy ever since we picked Chem up, and don’t think we haven’t noticed you always makin’ sure their spice cabinet and bakin’ ingredients never get too low.”

“Zhat is because sending zhem to Teufort is a death sentence and you know it!” Spy hissed back, “Besides, are you just going to sit zhere and pretend zhat you don’t invite zhem to dinner in your sacred domain just so you can show off all your little toys?”

“Both Spy and Engineer act like school girls with first crush.” Heavy said abruptly in a flat tone. “Is embarrassing. Please stop.”

“Nein! Please continue!” Medic clapped his hands, giddy, “Jour conflict is like eine Seifenoper!”

Heavy arched a brow at the German. “Doktor is worse than them! Is always circling Chemist like shark, waiting to take bite!”

“Augh! Zhat is not true!”

The team dissolved into arguing around you, leaving you and Miss Pauling as the lone outliers. The petite woman stealthily nudged her way through the group of arguing men and Pyro and made her way over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You, uh, you alright?” she asked in a low voice.

“I-” You started in a hoarse whisper, running your hand through your hair, gripping the strands, “I could have been getting fucked this whole time.”

“What?”

You put your head in your hands and let your head smack against your knees. “I have been living on a base with nine mercenaries who have been, apparently, thirsting after me and I didn’t notice. I am a fool, P, a blind, horny fool.”

Miss Pauling awkwardly patted you on the head. “There… there?”

“I’m so stupid!” You bemoaned, “How could this day possibly get any worse?”

CRRRRRACK-BOOM!

Everyone jumped as something slammed against the side door. The top of a utility pole lodged itself inside the doorway, live power lines lashing about like angry snakes as powerful winds surged inside, throwing the wires around. One of the wires was blown towards you and Miss Pauling, and you shoved her back on instinct, eyes widening in terror as a flash of white filled your vision. A sharp, burning sensation rocketed through your body, a metallic taste filling your mouth, before everything went dark.

The world came back to you in a burst of dull blue and gray hues.

A gentle pulse filled your ears, vibrating in your chest until it slowly waned, leaving you sprawled on a concrete floor. You gagged as your stomach turned violently, and you had to push yourself up onto your forearms to avoid choking on your own vomit. You spat, face curling into a disgusted sneer. 

Respawn never had left you feeling very good, but these last two times were really starting to make you yearn for a more gentle return to life.

Slowly, through sheer willpower and what little energy you had left, you managed to get to your feet. The air here was much warmer than your previous Respawn location, and it smelled faintly of… apples?

Confused, but determined to find a phone, you hugged the walls for support as you once again navigated an unfamiliar building, hand trailing across the blue corrugated metal. You weren’t afraid this time around, just pissed off. You had died again? Seriously?! You had been so close to home! You could have been getting boned in a few hours!

Okay, well, maybe not that last one, but still!

As you passed a window, something caught your attention. You stopped for a moment, looking out into the, thankfully, clear night. It was still dark, obviously, but you could hear the sound of birds chirping. Morning was approaching, but that wasn’t what was on your mind.

There were lights on somewhere in the distance.

If you were standing in a BLU base, then…

Gritting your teeth, you picked up the pace, making a mental note to thank Medic for giving you all of those shots and vitamins. If he hadn’t, you likely wouldn’t have even been able to walk.

A cool night breeze caressed your face as you stumbled outside, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, missing your blanket. It took a while, but you eventually made your way over to a homely-looking farmstead, adorned in a colour you usually hated to see. Taking as deep a breath as you could manage, you walked up the porch steps and approached the door, pulling open the outer screen door to knock on the solid wood interior door.

You stepped back a fraction as the sound of footsteps approached, your eyes drooping with exhaustion as the adrenaline that came with returning to life began to fade, leaving you with a mix of a pins and needles-esque numbness and an encroaching headache.

The door swung open, and you found yourself looking down the barrel of a sawed-off shotgun.

“Who the hell are-!” the voice of the RED Engineer held the same southern drawl as your Engineer, and his eyes widened in the same adorable way when he was caught off guard.

“Morning, friend.” You greeted, giving the man the best smile you could muster at the moment, “Do you have a phone I could borrow?”

[solarmorrigan]

steddie and 💗 for the kiss ask game!

Hello! Thank you for the prompt, I really enjoyed writing this one <3

💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft

Prompt from this post

-

If anyone asks, Eddie will say he prefers to work while standing because he thinks better when he can move around.

And this isn’t a lie; whether he’s crafting a campaign, working on a new song, drawing, or doing some writing, he has a tendency to get up and pace, or to run to grab something for a reference, or stand and try acting something out to see how it rolls, or– well. His desk chair doesn’t really see a lot of use.

So it’s true that he thinks better while standing; it’s just not the main reason he prefers it.

The main reason is that he happens to be a night owl, and his boyfriend—his beloved, his one and only, his baby—is a horrible, horrible morning person. Which means that he tends to go to bed earlier than Eddie. Which means that when Eddie works late into the night, eventually–

“Hey.” A warm, familiar weight drapes itself across Eddie’s back, arms coming up to circle his waist, the voice a sleepy purr in his ear as a chin rests on his shoulder.

“Hey.” Eddie smiles, tilting his head to the side just enough to bump it against Steve’s. “What’s up?”

Steve hums, the sound sighing out of him as he leans further onto Eddie. “It’s late.”

“Yeah?” Eddie glances at the clock; it’s just gone midnight, which isn’t that late, but he’ll play along. “Guess so.”

“I think I’m heading to bed,” Steve says, pulling back just enough to press a kiss to Eddie’s shoulder, before tucking his chin right back where it had been.

“So is this goodnight?” Eddie asks, pressing back into Steve a little.

“Mm,” Steve hums again, more contemplative than in agreement. “Doesn’t have to be.”

“You gonna stay out here with me, then, sunshine?” Eddie teases, and Steve leans a little more heavily against him in retaliation, just enough that Eddie has to readjust his stance so he doesn’t topple over into the desk.

“Bed’s cold without you,” Steve says, predictable as ever. “You should come with me.”

As if Steve isn’t the main reason the bed is warm when they’re both in it; Eddie’s own personal space heater.

“But what if I’m busy?” Eddie asks, nudging Steve with his elbow.

“Are you busy?” Steve asks.

And it’s an honest question, Eddie knows; if he tells Steve ‘yes,’ then Steve will let him be and he’ll head to bed on his own without any hard feelings. But he’s really just been doodling for the last half hour, and he doesn’t mind the idea of being convinced to follow Steve.

“I guess I could find a place to stop,” Eddie hedges.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, turning his head to press a few more kisses up the side of Eddie’s throat.

They’re slow, sleepy, gentle things; not leading anywhere, really, just affectionate. In spite of that (maybe even because of it), they still make goosebumps pop up across Eddie’s skin.

“For you?” Eddie says, wiggling around in Steve’s hold until he can turn enough to face him. “Anything.”

Steve’s bright smile paired with heavy-lidded eyes is probably one of Eddie’s favorite things.

“You’ll find a place to stop your super important doodling, just for me?” Steve asks slyly, and Eddie can’t help but laugh.

Busted.

“Just for you, baby,” Eddie says anyway, leaning in for a quick kiss that really ends up being more of a brush of smiling mouths.

“Well,” Steve says, his gaze warm and pleased, like Eddie’s done something great (the way he always looks at Eddie, the way Eddie will never, ever get enough of), “lucky me.”

[xxsycamore]

Afternoon Sun

╰┈➤ A needy Napoleon makes you take a break from your chores.

Napoleon Bonaparte/f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Gentle Sex; Kissing; Nipple Play; Cunnilingus; Oral Sex; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Sleepy Cuddles • wordcount: 2,631 • masterlist

"Okay, Napoleon, you can get me down already! I'm not going to run away or anything! Jeez!"

Your pleas fall on deaf ears as the man carrying you in his arms simply elbows the door open and takes you inside his bedroom. It's only when he sets you down on the soft duvet of his bed that he speaks again.

"Here you go."

You pout, but true to your word, you don't run away even as the chance to do so presents itself. However, that doesn't mean you give up on questioning him so easily.

"What's this all about? Coming and declaring that you're whisking me away from my chores? Poor Sebas is left tending to laundry all alone...!"

"I think he'll manage, Nunuche. You've been running left and right all day. I just figured you need a little break."

You watch Napoleon take off his coat and put it on his desk chair's backrest, his statement matter-of-factly and hard to refute. Especially when you've been secretly waiting for the day to be over so you can find yourself in the very same place as you are right now.

Napoleon rejoins you at the foot of his bed, now down to his comfy linen shirt, and pats his lap upon taking a seat.

Not seeing a reason to refuse such a nice offer, you crawl closer to him at sit sideways on his lap, enjoying the way his toned right arm immediately wraps around your shoulders to support your position. His gaze is soft when you meet it with your own, a smile playing on his lips, yet you can't help but think that he's being a little uncharacteristically quiet.

The staring contest is short-lived because he leans in for a kiss, all too soon. This is your "aha!" moment and you hurry to voice out your discovery - but not before placing a thorough smooch on his expecting lips, because you just can't help it.

"Napoleon! Did you take me here because I needed a break or because you were feeling lonely?"

When you take another look at his face, his brow is already furrowed in a little frown, likely from the unsatisfying contact. But it only grows once he actually registers your words.

"Why can't it be both?"

You chuckle at his honesty and give his lips another peck. As if he can be content with this.

Surprisingly, he doesn't push for a longer kiss as you'd predicted, so instead you have the chance to get a little more comfortable in his arms and take a breather. He looks as if he's carefully selecting his next words, so you give him the chance to while entertaining yourself by playing with the white ends of his hair. No matter how many times you try to smooth down the little silvery tuff, it keeps curling up on its own, sticking to the side of his face. It's adorable, especially in a moment where Napoleon is trying to be serious.

"It's just... you're rather busy these days. Getting up from bed so early, later running away as soon as you wake me up. I miss spending a quiet morning with you."

You try smoothing it down again, to no avail.

"Morning, you say..."

"Okay, fine, an early noon. You know what I'm saying, Nunuche."

That's your line, normally. He shouldn't be mad at you teasing him for his choice of words when it's so much like him to do the same to you.

But you don't feel like teasing him anymore. Your gaze moves from his smooth cheek to the intense emerald eyes staring back at you, waiting to be found. You can't get enough of him when he's being like that. Upfront enough with his emotions to make a bold statement and whisk you off your feet, taking you straight to his room. But at the same time afraid of acting selfishly. He'd stare at you as if begging you to say you feel the same way.

Which, you do.

You smile sweetly at your lover.

"So you want to cuddle in bed? Is this what you're saying? Let's do that, then!"

"Nunuche-Wait-"

It takes some effort to topple over a man of his build, but catching him off-guard does the trick. Laughter bubbles on your lips as you tower over him for a moment before rolling to the side, making space for him. Who cares if you're a little bit upside down, dialogally, in bed. Cuddles come in all angles and shapes.

He drags himself up until he's wholly on the bed, tackling you down despite your playful protests. Now he's the one on top, and you're about to say something about wanting to lay on his chest instead, when he suddenly meets your lips with his.

The earlier hesitation long dissipated, you're honestly happy to see him claiming his kiss now. You're glad you communicated your enthusiasm without taking the lead from him, and you're interested in seeing him express the neediness he previously showed.

"Nnnh..."

Oh, he's really getting into it. Trying to keep up with his tempo leaves you as breathless as he is, and the lewd sounds of the kiss make your belly tighten. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, and you let him toy with you as much as he pleases, enjoying his passionate loving show through the gesture, as if you're doing it for the very first time...

"Nunuche..."

At first, you're not sure if it simply fell out of his lips in the heat of the moment or if he's actually meaning to say something, so you just put a hand on his cheek to pull him down again.

"Nunuche, we... should stop."

Hazy but concerned, you look him in the eye with expectation.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted you to rest and now... if we kiss one more time, I would just want to make love to you."

You can tell that's not the reaction he expected to receive because you watch his brows go from being tightly knit together to rising up. You figure out you're smiling in this very moment, even if you're not doing it intentionally.

"I'm...not going anywhere, Napoleon."

Your hand finds his nape as you gently nudge him to shorten the distance again. But there's room for one more whisper before your lips connect again.

"I missed you too, you know..."

Now, you're aware yours seems to be a completely different way of missing each other from the one he talked about earlier. But you're not ashamed to admit it, nor are you ashamed of raising your knee just a little so that it presses firmly against the front of his trousers.

It doesn't really distract Napoleon from kissing you again. If he wasn't doing it with intention earlier, then he surely does now, until you can't help making those small noises into the kiss anymore.

"Need you."

The two words roll off his throat a little hoarsely, and it's so easy for you to slip inside the scenario where neither of you has started your day yet. The only difference is the too many layers between your bodies presently, neither of which being the soft bedsheets. But that too will cease to matter eventually, especially with the speed at which Napoleon works your shirt undone.

Arching your spine off the mattress to let him tug it free from your red skirt, your eyes widen as Napoleon can't wait to fully get rid of the piece of clothing before attacking your chest with his agape mouth. His tongue wets your sensitive skin, letting the air cool it so you start to miss the heat of his breath again.

It takes a couple of inpatient motions but your torso is now completely bare under Napoleon's eyes. He resumes his actions, suddenly being more than precise, as he takes a pert nipple in his mouth and suckles on it.

You toss your head to the side, fingers curling up in a fist with the desire to tangle them in his dark locks instead, all too easily. It will be a little embarrassing to admit you're more worked up than him, but you can't help it when he claims your weak spots like that.

Your composure completely crumbles when he flashes you a look without breaking off his ministrations, and he looks utterly needy at that moment, like he'd be offended if you were to tell him that's enough. The shiver that goes through you builds up into a powerful throb low inside your belly and between your legs, and you already want him inside. But you don't want to rush things, not when he's giving love to every part of you like that.

It's just unfair that you don't have much to do with your own hands while he's slowly making his way down your torso, removing your skirt and your underwear with one swift movement. You want to touch him too, to pleasure him, to show him how much you want him... even if your body takes care of the last part, being more than expressive.

"Nnnh-!"

Napoleon's strong hands have to keep your legs open as he tongues at your swollen folds, the strong currents of pleasure making you instinctively close your legs. Though it seems like he doesn't mind having his head sandwiched tight, his heavy breaths fanning over your heated center. The repetitive flicks of his tongue send your whole body shivering and you hope the whimpers coming out of your kiss-swollen lips are enough of a warning, because you can't for the life of you use your words to tell Napoleon of your upcoming climax.

Judging by the way he's going even harder at it, it's safe to assume he was able to read your body language like he always does. In no time he's sending your body into ecstasy, licking you through a powerful orgasm and letting you buck against his tongue, making a mess of his face.

When he emerges from between your legs, you welcome him back into your arms and you can't not notice he's a little red in the face. It gives you a rush of embarrassment that you gladly accept, coupled with the slight tang of your own juices on his tongue as he kisses you again, not waiting to stabilize his breathing.

You wrap your arms around his neck, similar to how you previously locked him with your legs, and the sound of his metal belt buckle clanking against the prong and suggesting that it's now undone is sending signals to your brain, ones that make the throbbing inside you intensify. Even after such a good orgasm, Napoleon is able to lower your recovery time to nearly zero just by a flick of his fingers. This is how much you need him.

Of course, seeing that he loses no time nesting himself between your legs, he's no better than you. Still, you don't trust him with the task of putting his cock inside you, because he likes to tease a little too much. So your hand slides downwards, between your bodies, and does it instead.

Napoleon looks at your face as he bottoms out in you, inch by inch, he doesn't even waste the time of a blink. There's a fire in his eyes when you finally open your own to gaze back at him, and you cry out his name when he starts thrusting.

"Ahhh...Napoleon!"

"I'm here, mon amour."

Withdrawing a little, his hands find the folds of your knees, holding you open so you can receive his thrusts as he picks up his pace. You're not sure if you're happy to trade his closeness with the delicious new angle of his cock moving inside you, but the latter becomes more and more important by the second. By the time you realize the two of you are being up to no good in the middle of the day, it's too late to care about muffling your moans. They already know.

Still, Napoleon is quick to notice the hitching of your breath, and he doesn't like it when you're too shy to express how he's making you feel. So he snaps his hips inside you in a particularly deep thrust.

"Ah!"

And again.

"Say my name."

"N-Napo...leon..."

Obedient as you are, he didn't need to pry it out of you too hard, and he rewards you with a series of nice and deep thrusts that are more of a pleasant grinding sensation against your deepest parts. You cry out again, ready to tip over the edge again so soon, especially when he lets go of your knees and meets you skin to skin, a part of his weight falling over you like a blanket.

"God, you're so tight and hot around me. Are you going to come?"

You lock your legs around his torso instead of answering, nothing coherent coming out of your mouth anyway other than moans that resemble a broken "yes". You envy him for the ability to tie together whole sentences like that, wishing to feel him throb inside you with a mere word from your mouth too.

"Nggh- Napoleon!"

Or maybe you can do that just fine. His cock swells inside you as his thrusts grow erratic until he lets the strong grip of your limbs completely immobilize him, knowing that you're pulling him as close as possible and he'll get to spill inside you no matter what.

The sensation of fingernails biting into your sides feels a little rough as he grips you harder in the heat of the moment, but it only heightens the feeling when your whole body is glowing with pleasure. You're sure you're leaving little crescents across his toned arms as well.

He erupts inside you, filling you spurt after sput as you spasm around him, milking him for every last drop. You begin to feel so full of his hot come, tears well up in the corners of your eyes. A sense of belonging overcomes you, strongly, as if you can make Napoleon melt into your chest if you hold him like that just a little longer.

He doesn't seem to be letting go of you anytime soon. The little readjustments of limbs that need to be made so he lies comfortable over you are making overstimulation spark all over but it's not unwelcome at all. It makes you clench your insides and feel him remaining there, where he belongs.

"I love you."

It's how you know he feels the same way. You might be having your own way of communicating it, as he always likes to remind, but you still deem it unfair to remain quiet just because you want to be completely still.

"I love you. I love you so much, Napoleon."

Your voice is a little hoarse from how deep in your throat those moans were rolling, but you think he might like the way your words come out. His soft humming sounds happy. And sleepy.

"Napoleon."

"Let me stay inside you for a little longer. Let's turn around."

The air gets trapped in your lungs for a mere second because admittedly, his wish does things to you. But you're able to let it out in the next moment, once you've settled nicely on top of his chest. Just like you wanted in the beginning when things were far more innocent...

"Napoleon.. you'll fall asleep..."

"Mmm."

You're not sure what that means. You just know the whole thing starts to resemble awfully much those late mornings you both missed, even if now it's the afternoon sun that peaks through the curtains to rest on your naked back, like the bedsheets that are missing. Maybe you'll rest your eyes for a moment too.

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[muffinsin]

Hey, me again, I wanted to request a marvel x Resident evil village one shot.

Could we get like Black Widow x R x Daniela? Like just them being a couple and doing silly couple stuff?

Hey hon! :) For sure! We'll see whether my Black Widow interpretation is any good XP

Let's get into it!

Masterlists

You hum to yourself as you walk, the sound of the lullaby Natasha would hum at times heavy on your mind. While you appreciate getting to stay busy while working at the castle, you can’t deny you miss your girlfriends at work- even as they usually find every possible excuse to find you.

Whether that is Daniela swarming by to "check what you’re working on now"- as if she wasn’t the main reason the castle gets a little messy sometimes, or Natasha coming by to check on you and "assess the situation"- whatever that may be. Somehow, the two always find a reason to be with you.

Now though, it’s been hours without them, and you smile to yourself as you finally get to head to your room, knowing you’ll find them there as you do on most days.

And, true to that, you smile as you see them on top of the bed, curled up together and basking in the warmth of the room. You tug at your collar and glance at the lit fireplace, then the shut window, then shake your head fondly. As you glance up you spot Natasha rolling her eyes, as though to tell you; she also can’t stand the heat of the room. But, much like you, she has made it a habit of standing the heat if only to make your girlfriend happy, who practically thrives off it.

You smile as you watch her, her golden eyes shut, her finger tangled in the younger woman’s reddish hair. Not quite asleep, not quite awake. You yearn to join them.

Shrugging off your clothes, you feel Nat’s eyes on you, scanning your every movement. You feel your cheeks warm up a little and a smile creep up on your face, and before you know it, you giggle; "Like the view?"

Turning, you see her only bite her lip, an answer hardly needed as her eyes flicker across your body. You notice her pull Daniela a little closer and smile as she makes some space for you in the pile of blankets and pillows and stuffed animals you’re sure the fly-mutant insisted on.

You eagerly move in towards them, laughing a little to yourself when even the slightest nudge of your arm against Daniela's has the woman whine and grumble in her near-asleep state, her flies buzzing a little louder as though complaining about the disturbance.

The moment your arm brushes against Daniela’s again, she predictably lets out a sleepy, drawn-out whine, her nose wrinkling slightly as she shifts closer to Natasha. You can't help but giggle at the sight, more whines drawn from your girlfriend as you lean closer to her and get more comfortable in the little nest of blankets she must have convinced Natasha to build for her.

"You're disturbing the princess", she teases, her voice low and smooth as her fingers absentmindedly comb through strands of auburn-ginger hair. Her lips curve into a smirk, and you can’t help but giggle softly. Like this, you could stay forever. You love the two of them so much, and you realize it every day. You feel a familiar warmth bloom in your chest as you turn your head, catching Daniela's furrowed brows and slightly parted lips.

"She'll live", you murmur, nudging both of them lightly. "Besides, how am I supposed to resist when you two look this cozy?", you tease again, well aware that the words will have the redhead roll her eyes, still a little unused to this softness even after years.

Daniela stirs at your voice, her golden eyes fluttering open briefly before she lets out a soft, content sigh. At last sensing your presence, she shifts, draping an arm and leg over you in a way that’s both clingy and endearing and utterly familiar to you by now. Her flies settle again, as if to approve of your presence, and you feel the faintest of hums come from them.

"You're too far", she mumbles sleepily, tugging you even closer. "Stay here… forever...", she sighs dreamily, her eyes slipping shut again already.

Of course, this too brings a giggle and chuckle from you and Natasha. "Careful, printessa, or they might start thinking they’re your personal body pillow", the woman teases, though she easily lets go of Daniela. You know what this means by now, know that the woman must have spent the day bugging her for cuddles and kisses. You're sure, this isn't quite where the infamous assassin thought she might end up one day. Not that she would complain, of course.

"Wouldn’t mind", the auburn haired woman replies in a drowsy pout, burying her face against your shoulder as she often likes to do. You giggle at the action, feeling her warm breath and cold nose against you. You're not entirely sure how she can possibly be cold still, but have long learned not to question your icecube of a girlfriend about this anymore.

Instead, you let out a dramatic sigh, your lips twitching into a grin. "Guess I’ve been demoted from partner to furniture. Should I be honored or offended?", you hum, shivering when Natasha leans over, her soft, but bitten lips ghosting the shell of your ear as she whispers; "Honored, obviously"

Alas, just as you’re settling into the peaceful bliss of cuddling, Daniela shifts again, her sleepiness giving way to familiar mischief as she lightly pokes your side. For a moment, you might think it was unintentional, just a little movement from your usually so energetic and restless girlfriend. Her little giggles against you tell a different story entirely, though. You twitch in surprise, glancing down at her.

"Oh, so that’s how it is?", you tease, narrowing your eyes playfully at her. Of course, her wide, golden ones find yours again, her grin widening as she pokes you again, this time with more purpose.

"What? I’m just stretchingggg", she whines, giggling when her finger once again pokes your side. You shriek, and her eyes flash momentarily with mischief and confidence.

Natasha snorts softly, catching this first. Before you know it, the playful pokes turn into a full-on ambush. Daniela’s hands find all your most ticklish spots with alarming precision, her speed outmatching yours by far, and Natasha, ever the strategist, takes advantage of the chaos to pin your wrists gently above your head. You shriek and squirm, laughing as one tickles you, the other holds your wrists in place and glances down at you with a far too self-satisfied smirk.

"Not fair!", you whine, squirming under their combined assault. "Ganging up on me isn’t allowed!", you try to complain, but none of them care. If anything, Daniela only giggles more, flies buzzing in excitement around the three of you.

"You started it!", she teases, leaning down to nuzzle her nose against your cheek. Then, it's your turn to laugh, when Natasha's free hand comes down on Daniela's back and pushes her down onto you, pulling a surprised shriek from the woman. Still, she giggles, squirming like a trapped bug- fly- beneath your lover's grasp.

"You’re both impossible", she grumbles, though she can't keep the smile off her face no matter how hard she seems to try.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

A Soft Place To Land

pairing: frankie morales x gn!reader

rating: F (this is really just 579 words of fluff, frankie strips but it’s not sexual)

a/n: the autumn chill is making me romantic for my fictional husband and this is what came of it

frankie masterlist

It was late into the evening when the headlights of Frankie’s truck shone into your living room window. It had been raining all day, autumn finally settling in with an icy chill. You knew how tired he must be, spending his day in the cold, damp body shop he co-owned with Santiago, dealing with cold, damp, impatient customers for the last ten hours.

You, on the other hand, had the day off and never once had to step foot outside the warm and cozy confines of your home. You busied yourself with chores, cleaning the house more deeply than you had in a while, maybe even since you and Frankie first moved in a year and a half ago. Now, fresh out of a warm-vanilla scented bath, you laid reading on the plush sofa Frankie insisted on buying despite it’s hefty price tag, feeling cozy in a pair of soft, fleece-lined sweatpants and a white, cotton long-sleeve.

When Frankie walked in, he looked just as glum as you predicted, a deep sigh leaving his lips as he kicked his boots off by the door while meeting your eye.

“Fucking cold out there,” he said, earning a frown and a nod from you. “You look cozy.”

“I am cozy,” you smiled, curling your finger at him to beckon him closer. Frankie obeyed, walking over to you and bending down to capture your lips for a sweet, icy kiss that left you shivering. “You’re freezing.”

“Let me in, then,” he said, yanking on the blanket covering most of your body.

“You’re dressed in your work clothes,” you giggled, batting his hand away.

“Fine,” he said, standing upright. You watched him with amusement as he started to peel off his clothes layer by layer until he was left in just a pair of black briefs and his socks. “Can you let me in now?”

“Fine,” you sighed, pretending to be burdened by his need to be close to you, when in truth it was what you loved most about him. Throwing the blanket open, you spread your legs to give him room to lay between them, Frankie’s head resting on your chest. You threw the blanket back over him and set your book aside to hold him for a minute, your fingernails lightly grazing the plains of his toned back while he slipped his icy hands underneath the dip in your back, hugging you closer to him. “How was it today?”

“Shitty,” he mumbled sleepily, his cheek squished against your sternum. “Got yelled at.”

“Cunts,” you spat, earning a chuckle from your husband.

“Missed you, baby,” he mused, turning his face to press a kiss over your heartbeat. “So warm…n’ soft.”

You couldn’t help the cheesy grin that spread across your face at the sound of his sleepy voice, your fingers lifting to lightly scratch at his scalp.

“Mm,” he hummed, squeezing you tighter. “Could fall asleep like this.”

“Go ahead,” you murmured, lightly tracing the ridge of his brow with your fingertip.

“Okay,” he said, nestling into you. “Wake me up if I get too heavy.”

“Mmkay,” you smiled, scratching his scalp once more before picking your book back up and resuming your place, Frankie’s soft snores the only sound in the world to you.

Though you wished he never had to face the cold at all, you couldn’t help but admit that you adored being the warmth he came home to every night.

A soft place for him to land.

[generic-sonic-fan]

Team Dark Week: Night

Summary: One member of Team Dark gets tired more predictably than the others. For @teamdarkweek

2,366 words, no content warnings

---

Shadow wasn’t nocturnal. 

The ARK was on a set clock, synced with a time zone called “Central Time”, with red-lighted digital clock faces in every major room aboard. Constantly blinking and changing. The one in the research lab was used to time the experiments. He still remembered the day where he’d run faster than that clock, the day that Gerald had hoisted him up on his shoulders to parade him around and-

In Maria’s room there was a peculiar object. Small, white, and round. Twelve digits spread around a circular face. A small, wide arrow that moved slowly, and a thinner arrow that quivered with every pulse of his heart. 

“It’s not an electronic clock. I think the word is. . . hmm. . . analog,” Maria had explained. “I’ve always had it. It’s probably from Earth!”

She slept with the clock beside her bed. He and she could count along with it to keep their minds off of the day to come.

Only these days, staring up at the ceiling while bound by Earth’s gravity, all was silent. 

Shadow wasn’t nocturnal. 

Shadow wasn’t nocturnal.

—

Rouge wasn’t nocturnal. Frustratingly so. GUN was a human organization, and human organizations worked with the sun, so she worked with the sun. 

It’s not like she hated the sun. The big ball of burning space gas wasn’t the top of her priorities by any means. She had much better things to hate in a much nearer proximity. But that didn’t mean she liked it. She was always, always sleepy while the rest of the humans seemed as bright and as chipper as ever. And of course, humans tended to relate more and thus spill more to those familiar to them, so she had to become just as alert as they were to do her job most effectively during the times that night missions were few. 

She’d gotten good at it by now. This was her world by choice. There was no higher-paying client in the business. Humans loved things like information and secrets on each other almost as much as she loved gems, which was saying something. She knew where she was most valuable, and it was here. 

So Rouge wasn’t nocturnal. Simple as that.

Rouge wasn’t nocturnal. 

—

Omega’s sensors registered motion in the hallway outside of his designated recharge room. His base programming ran through a pre-prepared checklist of possible sources of this motion, and determined the most likely cause to be either one of his organic teammates attending to their bodily functions. 

Omega’s sensors registered more motion in the hallways outside of his designated recharge room. His base programming ran through a pre-prepared checklist of possible sources of this motion, and determined the most likely cause to be either one of his organic teammates returning to their rooms after attending to their bodily functions.

Omega’s sensors registered voices in an indeterminate location outside of his designated recharge room. His base programming could not match this stimuli to any of the conditions on the pre-prepared checklist. This instigated the reboot of his short-term adaptive processing.

Omega exited standby mode. As he unplugged himself from his power cord, a notification popped up- energy reserves were still at a mere 14%. He looked at his power cord, the measly, pathetic, “UL-Rated” cord approved for use in civilian housing infrastructure, and imagined ripping it apart and demanding to be supplied with a more suitable industrial cord. 

His attention shifted when he identified Shadow and Rouge’s voices in the living room. He was too distant for his language programs to make much out of the vocals. He opened his door and traveled to the living room. 

His teammates’ voices went silent as he arrived. 

“WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE FOR AWAKENING AT 12:47 AM?” He asked. 

Shadow looked at Rouge. Rouge shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

“ORGANIC BEINGS REQUIRE A MINIMUM OF EIGHT HOURS OF REST TO FUNCTION. RETURN TO YOUR ROOMS.”

“No.” Shadow replied. “Go back to bed. This doesn't concern you.”

“THIS DOES, IN FACT, CONCERN ME. I REQUIRE MY TEAMMATES TO OPERATE AT MAXIMUM EFFICIENCY. THIS REQUIRES THAT YOU REST.”

“Oh shut up, would you?” Rouge crossed her arms. “Shadow and I are going out for a little night out and there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

“TRY ME.”

“Sure!”

“No fighting in the apartment.” Shadow parroted Rouge’s oft-cited rule. “Come on, let’s just go.”

“YOU WILL NOT LEAVE ME BEHIND!” 

“Fine.” Shadow said.

“Only as long as you keep it quiet and don’t complain about ‘organic sleep schedules’, alright?” Rouge added. 

“AFFIRMATIVE.” 

Rouge grabbed her keys, Shadow grabbed his jacket, and they left the apartment in short order. Their movement was normal as they descended down the stairs, but once they reached the pavement of the sidewalk, Shadow ignited his rocket footwear and Rouge took off from the ground. They grinned at each other before taking off down the empty streets. Omega wasted no time in activating his own rocket boosters to follow. 

As they raced through the suburbs and onto the 76 freeway, Shadow’s speeds crept further and further towards the sound barrier. His vitals were still within that of mild aerobic activity, whereas Rouge’s heart rate and rate of respiration increased rapidly. This strange, nonverbal race was pushing her limits. 

Building lights faded into the light of individual warehouses as they neared the edge of the city. Upon crossing the last city limit, Shadow gave a single audible laugh, before breaking the sound barrier, shooting off ahead of them into the patchwork of rural roads. 

Rouge shook her head and slowed, but Omega would not let himself be beaten. He increased power to his boosters and gave his own verbal “HA” as he caught the hedgehog, who’d stopped a mere twenty miles out. 

“I won.” Shadow smiled. 

“YOU DID NOT INSTIGATE A FORMAL RACE.” Omega replied. 

Rouge arrived moments later, huffing and puffing as she landed beside them. 

“Good pace.” Shadow said to her. 

He sat down in the middle of the gravel road, looking up towards the stars. Rouge joined beside him, her wings draped over her shoulders. 

Omega stood behind them. He did not need to rest. His rocket boosters did not get worn out and would not get sore. Such was the superiority of the Ultimate Robo-

An error warning popped up in front of his vision. Energy reserves at 7%. 

This was only enough for another forty minutes of operation. Less, if he were to activate his rocket boosters again. 

“Nice night.” Shadow said.

“Yeah.” Rouge concurred.

Omega queried his auxiliary power cells, only to find them empty. His memory banks not-so-helpfully reminded him that he’d spent them to get an extra boost of speed to pursue a fleeing Badnik three days ago, and he had yet to recharge them.

“I’ve been learning the constellations.” Shadow whispered. 

“Really?”

“What do you mean ‘really’?”

“No, not that I think it’s weird, hun.” Rouge said. “Just that, don’t you come from space?”

Shadow laughed quietly. “We couldn’t see the stars very well from the windows.”

“Why not?”

“The light from the planet was too bright.” 

“What light?”

“I’m not sure. I remember hearing something about how even the planet reflects the sun’s light.” Shadow picked up a chunk of gravel from the road, admiring it in his hand. “Or perhaps it was just the brightness of the solar panels. Either way, it blocked out the light from the stars.” 

“Just like city lights.” Rouge concurred. 

Omega engaged in a line of rationale that he never had to before- one that made his rage spike in his processor. He needed to preserve power for the flight back to the apartment. Every power-saving measure, no matter how humiliating, would help. 

He lowered himself to the ground and began offlining auxiliary systems. He reduced power to those that weren’t absolutely vital to his targeting and weapons operation, such as his optics, tactile, and audial sensors. Shadow and Rouge’s voices became muffled and the road ahead became shadowy. 

“That one’s. . . Cassiopea, I believe.” Shadow lifted his arm toward the sky, but Omega couldn’t make out much else in his motion.

“Looks like a ‘W’.” Rouge replied. “Seems a little fancy.”

“I didn’t name it.”

“Of course not. And I’m not one to scoff at sentimentality.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Okay, maybe a little.”

Omega’s rage flared up even further when he received another emergency popup. Energy reserves at 6%.

He tore through his own processor, searching for whatever errant function could’ve caused such a drastic power drain in a matter of minutes. He paused, however, when he found that the function consuming the most power was his own processing, followed closely by his cooling fans. 

He was going to think himself into shut down! How imbecilic! He needed to cease this processing immediately. 

“What are some other ones?” Rouge asked. 

“That one is a star cluster.” Shadow replied. “They’re called the Pleiades.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s what humans call them.”

“Know any more?”

A pause. “No.”

Rouge laughed. Shadow made some motion towards her that Omega’s limited vision could not determine. 

“Sounds like you need to get out more when you can’t sleep.” Rouge said.

“I don’t think someone would like that.” 

There was a pause in conversation. Good. The less Omega processed, the better to preserve power with. The fact that he’d let himself get this underpowered was a vital mistake. To use the appropriate vulgar terminology: fuck that power cable. It was imperative that he retrieve a new one!

“Guess he’s also enjoying the stars.” Rouge said. 

Energy reserves at 5%. 

Omega’s rage exploded within him. He simulated blowing apart the popup with his missiles, then tearing apart the cord with his claws. Of course, this simulation only consumed more power. 

“Omega?” Shadow asked. 

“SYSTEMS NOMINAL.” He snapped back, before diving back into the process of trying to reduce his rage.

A futile strategy, Omega admitted to himself.

“What’s on your mind?” Rouge asked. “Your cooling fans are going crazy.”

“SYSTEMS NOMINAL. LET US DEPART THIS LOCATION.” He instructed his legs to resume a standing position. 

However, his knee joints slowed, his motors whining from lack of power. 

“Something’s wrong.” Shadow hissed. 

“Don’t look at me.” Rouge replied. 

Omega turned and began walking down the road, only for his steps to sway. Locomotion protocols were among those he’d limited power to. 

“Omega! Answer me!” Shadow said. . 

It was time to retreat from this location, now. It was approximately fifty miles back to the apartment. He would have to fire his rocket boosters. . . slower, to have enough power to stay online at least. . . some of the way there. Even precise calculations were slipping form his awareness. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you tired?” Rouge asked. 

“I DO NOT GET TIRED!” Omega replied. 

Something landed in front of him, a blob of pixels lighter than the darkness behind it. “You’re walking like you’ve had one too many at the club. We didn’t wake you up from your much-needed beauty sleep, did we?”

“SILENCE!”

“What are your power levels at?” Shadow’s blob joined beside her. 

Omega lowered himself to the ground so he could shift enough power to his optics to make out their facial expressions. 

“You’re already weakened.” Shadow frowned. “Your attempts at hiding that have failed. Tell us what’s going on so we can help.”

A second of concern slipped onto Rouge’s expression, but she didn’t say anything.

“POWER RESERVES AT 5%.” Omega divulged. 

She regained her smile. “So you are sleepy.”

“I AM NOT ‘SLEEPY’! I AM ON THE VERGE OF IMMINENT SHUTDOWN!”

“Mhmm. We’ve all been there.” Rouge replied. “Could almost fall asleep standing up if you’re in a meeting with information ops. I don’t recommend trying it for yourself, though.”

“He needs to get back.” Shadow said. 

“Of course. I’ll carry him.” 

“You shouldn’t have come with us if you were this low on energy.” Shadow stared at him.

Omega couldn’t generate anything to reply with. 

“Alright, up you go, big boy.” 

Rouge grabbed his arms and took to the sky. With the landscape passing by beneath them without the need for his own locomotion, Omega entered standby mode to conserve power. 

—

He awakened from standby mode with his power reserves at 100%. His auxiliary power cells were even 33% restored. 

The first thing his optics registered was sunlight streaming through his window. He checked his chronometer. The time was 11:00 AM. Noise emanated from the kitchen of the apartment. 

Omega stormed out of his room to find Rouge gathering components for pancakes and Shadow crunching on beans from the Coffea Arabica plant. 

“Someone’s bright and chipper this morning.” Rouge pouted before rubbing her eyes. “Keep it down, would you?”

“I already offered to make you coffee.” Shadow said.

“Oh shut up, you.”

“YOU DID NOT WAKE ME WHEN YOU RETURNED ME TO THIS LOCATION.”

“Figured you needed the rest. Or, hmm, the power down?” Rouge replied.

Omega’s processor, now operating at full capacity, generated seventeen different insults to deny her charge with. However, none of them were persuasive enough to combat the strength of evidence she had to the contrary. 

“POWER PRESERVATION WAS INDEED NECESSARY.”

“Next time, tell us when you’re low on power, alright?”

“UNNECESSARY.”

“You insist on telling us whenever we do something against the best interest of our health. Allow us to return the favor.” Shadow added.

“I DO NOT HAVE ‘HEALTH’.” 

“Fine!” Shadow tossed the bag down, spilling the beans across the counter. “Allow me to put it even more simply: tell us when you can’t operate to your fullest potential. You’d expect nothing less from us, correct?” 

A brief search of his memory banks did confirm that he’d made Shadow and Rouge promise to disclose any organic weaknesses. Omega crossed his arms. “CORRECT.”

“Good. That’s that.”

“Pick up your coffee.” Rouge flicked a bean into Shadow’s lap. 

Shadow scowled at her, but said nothing more. 

“We’ll make sure you’re able to get the time you need to recharge from now on, alright?” She turned to Omega. “Believe it or not, we want you feeling your best, too.” 

—

After four hours of researching Mobian sleep cycles, Omega finally interpreted her meaning.

He was not nocturnal. 

[stargirlfics]

The Gentleman Chapter 5: Éclosion

Alfred Pennyworth x Black Dancer!Reader

Summary: Harsh realities and a dangerous new enemy push you and Alfred to be upfront about your feelings

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, canon typical violence, chemical attack mentions, light angst, soft concerned bf!alfred vibes, romantic gestures galore, brief allusion to smut, fluff & feelings!

Word Count: 4.9k

Note: So happy to be bringing you all more of this story I know it’s been a minute! Hope you enjoy this one, it’s special in a lot of ways! The soundtrack for this chapter and the title come from Èclosion by Tony Anderson which I listened to while writing. It makes me think of what falling in love feels like!

[series masterlist] [series playlist]

Tension lay heavy over the city in the days after the fear toxin attack, people were wary and on edge, the weather even starting to turn cold and dreary while unease hung thick in the air.

Paulie’s Diner was now the site of a police investigation, the entire street blocked off, the news coverage of the attack on a twenty four hour cycle, just barely contained panic swirling over this fear toxin and what it could do. 

You couldn’t lie that it was terrifying, hearing what those who’d been injured said about the toxic gas, what it did to them; hallucinations of a nightmarish hellscape drawing out everyone’s anger and fear, driving them mad. 

It sounded awful and then there was Scarecrow’s chilling warning, the mystery of who he was and what his motives were bringing back eerie memories of the year before and how out of control things had gotten. 

Worry twisted taut in your stomach, exhaustion in your limbs as you finished out your last show of the night, the fourth one in two days in fact, your body and mind run ragged. 

Oz was a smart man but he was predictable.

The new late night hour dance slots added to the schedule weren’t a coincidence, you were sure he was using the distraction to make more money, every dancer working doubles late into the morning hours now, Madame Olena working quick to teach new choreography, a refresher on some pole tricks and sexier strip teases and dances added to the repertoire of shows. 

There were bruises already blossoming on your shins from where you had to push against said pole as you climbed it, inching your way up so the audience could see you float and twirl around it, and as fun as it was, as much as you enjoyed getting to dance with your friends on stage beside you each night, you were tired and sore and just wanted to sleep for a year. 

Certain rituals were getting you through the grueling hours though.

Sleepy phone calls with Alfred before you drifted off when you got home, his sweet encouragement texts and reminders for you throughout the day and how he’d stopped by every other day this week so far to see you even if just to say hello before heading back to the office. 

You’d both been busy since the night of the attack, not finding much time inbetween work to spend the kind of time together that you wanted, a reluctance in both your voices when trying to soften the sting of it likely being the entire week and maybe even the next before you’d get to see each other properly.

That didn’t seem to sway Alfred much though, even when you insisted he didn’t have to go out of his way to come by if he was pressed for time, he showed up anyway, as often as he could. 

You were grateful for it, relieved that he didn’t find your disappointment about your schedules selfish with everything going on, just as content to get any second spent with you that he could. 

Reminders of him were everywhere now too.

The throw blanket on your sofa that smelled faintly like him, the new bouquet of fresh flowers he’d come by one afternoon with, the space near the front door made for his shoes and coat next to yours, like tiny little puzzle pieces were beginning to fill in, ones you didn’t even know you seemed to have all the perfect pieces for.

It made you laugh to yourself now, laid out on the floor in your living room, trying to ease the ache in your muscles, stretching each limb gently while pondering on how tangled up your heart was.

All these feelings were so intense, one part of you cautioning yourself to slow down, not get too invested when you’re not sure he even feels the same, or wants a relationship while another part felt sure about trusting the groundwork that had been laid so far.

So much was going on and you were sure a proper conversation would happen soon, when there was time—if it was Alfred that much you were sure of, knowing he’d never leave you wondering for too long but you did worry. 

Maybe it just wasn’t a good time, with Scarecrow loose and wreaking havoc and the recent reminder that you were under Penguin’s thumb indefinitely; it didn’t bode well for fostering a relationship and in Gotham that was tricky enough on its own. 

But you also couldn’t deny what you were feeling and experiencing. 

Another half suppressed smile coming then, a dreamy breath sighed out at the memory of the previous evening, when Alfred had come by to drop off some takeout only to see you icing your shins, his immediate concern when you greeted him making you laugh, something he didn’t find as amusing in the moment. 

His slightly stern but still soft, “Darling, what happened? Who did this?” made you squirm against the cushions while also making haste to explain before he got too upset. 

The worry on his features faded just a touch after, as he fussed over you, though you didn’t miss his slight eyebrow raise of surprise and intrigue when you said “pole dance”, reminding yourself to circle back around to that subject at a later date…you wanted to see how far that interest went. 

It’s just that he didn’t ever make you feel like these visits were a chore, that’s what you kept coming back to, remembering how his coat and cane were discarded to the side immediately so he could kneel down and take over icing your muscles, soothing hands kneading the stiffness from your calves, insisting that you start eating while he take care of you. 

How could you ever get over that? The gentleness with which he touched you? 

Wanting him felt like oxygen, just as normal as breathing and inevitable as falling asleep, his kisses tasting of hope and something sweet. Things felt different now that Alfred was in your life, the good kind of different, the exciting kind and it almost felt silly to be unsure if you could lean into this but the more you thought about it, the more clarity you came away with. 

There was a reason he spoke to you with such respect, his thoughtfulness about your feelings present in everything, and god the way he looked at you with so much fondness, how his expression could go from sweet to simmering in seconds, leaving you aching, feeling special and adored at every turn, it had to mean something. 

Lost in the web of your thoughts the chime of your phone’s alarm nearly startled you, the time letting you know you had to get ready for rehearsal, your focus now pulled in a different direction and you reasoned with yourself it was best not to overthink this if you could help it. 

The pattering of rain hitting the windows made you wish you could stay in instead, a daydream already forming about curling up with Alfred on the couch, snuggled under the blanket, napping together for the whole evening. 

Rushing out the door before traffic hit you couldn’t help but gaze out in the direction of Wayne Tower, wondering what he was up to, hoping his day was going okay and already counting down the hours until you could hear his voice again. 

Just across the city, staring out at the winking lights of traffic on the streets below, Alfred paced the floor of his study, his thoughts and emotions a tangled mess. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way, or felt this much about someone, realizing that he’d gotten swept up in it all, reality washing over him like ice now. 

The past week had been stressful to say the least, things were already busy with certain projects and due diligence with investors and financial advisors at Wayne Enterprises, now this fear toxin attack had taken center priority as well, he and Bruce already starting to work around the clock to get a handle on things. 

That meant there was less time available to be with you and even though it had only been a handful of days so far, and despite his frequent visits he still felt distant.

He missed you terribly when you weren’t around and it didn’t take much to see that his feelings for you were really entering serious territory. 

He should be happy about that, he knows he should be, but all there is for him in the moment is fear, because this could only ever end one way and he knows it.  

It was foolish to think he could have something proper with you, something not tainted by secrets that weren’t his to tell, tainted by a dangerous obligation he’d taken on to be at Bruce’s side in his mission as Batman.

That was an obligation he would never ever regret, all of it done out of love it’s just that most of his life had been spent with some proximity to danger and there had been many close calls.

Far too many tragedies had already happened he couldn’t let that become the case for you too. He wouldn’t allow it. 

You were too important to him already and he couldn’t drag you down into all this, especially not now with this Scarecrow figure coming out of the woodwork. 

It did hurt though, just the mere thought of ending things, his heart lurching painfully, not wanting to entertain the thought of letting you go for a single second.

A door he once thought was closed for good had opened the day you met and he let himself get close, captivated in every way, each time hoping it wouldn’t be the last time he would see you.

He was awestruck by how quickly you disarmed him, seeing him so clearly and the fact that you wanted him as well, that you wanted his attention?

He was helpless to do anything except be swept up, but now he had to understand he’d never be able to have that. 

It’d be alright, it would rip him open but this wasn’t the first time he’d chosen duty over feelings, he’d have to find comfort in knowing he had experienced this with you no matter how brief it was, already knowing he wouldn’t quite ever forgive himself for hurting you this way. 

“What’s wrong?” 

The question catches him by surprise as Bruce makes his entrance out of Alfred’s peripheral, still drying the rain from his hair. 

Perfect. Just in time for dinner. 

“Nothing, just working on some numbers in my head. How did it go?” 

His own question had been a deflection, one he’s not proud of but he just needed a second to get his bearings, to screw his head back on straight after thinking of you. 

“Went alright. They don’t have much to go on, Gordon says they’re trying to get a read on the chemical mixture in the gas but that could take awhile. I’m going back to the diner tonight, I have to try and find some clues, whatever I can get.” 

A rough hand passes over the scruff of his jaw as he considers the information, nodding after a moment. 

“I’ll be on standby if you find anything. I’ve been doing some digging myself, nothing concrete so far but there may be more security footage we haven’t seen that could identify him.” 

There's a moment after where it’s quiet, the two men moving around each other in comfortable silence before Bruce caves first, a light chuckle let loose, almost mixing with the downpour of the rain. 

If Alfred were any older he was sure he wouldn’t have heard it but he did, flicking one of his pointed looks at the young man. 

“Seriously, Alfred, what's wrong? Something’s on your mind.” 

He resisted the urge to brush it off or get defensive, softened at this offer to discuss, treasuring these moments of depth with Bruce whenever they came.

All he had to do was say your name and Bruce was nodding, his heart tugging at the sound of it, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose before explaining further.

“I think I may have to end things. I-I’m worried about keeping her safe through this and ultimately she’s just better off. I’d have to lie to keep her from finding out, from getting involved and I don’t want to have to do that, it’s what’s best.” 

More silence, his heart sinking now that the words had been said out loud, the crushing reality setting in just a little more. 

“But you don’t want to let her go right? You do have feelings for her?” 

Alfred can sense the careful line of questioning, deciding to be truthful as vulnerable as it made him feel, nodding a yes. 

“I do, I have feelings for her.” 

“Good, I don’t think you should end things then.” 

Oh that wasn’t what he was expecting to hear.

“Bruce…it’s not as simple as that, she doesn’t know, she can’t know, that could put her at risk, you at risk, we don’t know when there could be another attack, I can’t let-“ but the words are falling short with a placating hand.

“Look I see the way she makes you feel and I don’t think you should let that go. I can’t let you do that actually, you shouldn’t have to sacrifice that, Alfred,” there’s a moment in between, a look that says he wants to say something else but finding the words is hard, “I never actually told you this but before Selina left town, I met up with her, saw her one last time. She wanted me to come with her and I-”

Alfred’s eyes widen for a moment, a sympathetic nod given as the sentence trailed off because he understood now what he always suspected but never pried about.

He figured Bruce had feelings of some kind for Miss Kyle but of course, his boy had chosen duty over feelings, just as he was contemplating doing himself. 

It was a clever way of calling him out on it he had to give him that. 

“I know you’re worried she’ll get hurt and I know you’re scared she won’t want anything to do with us when she finds out but I see how much you trust her, so I trust her and I think she’s safest close to us. You don’t have to lie to her, tell her just enough for now and we can keep her protected from it for as long as possible, you can tell her on your own terms.” 

His heart quickened, mulling it over, pacing again without realizing, struck by the sincerity in Bruce’s words.

The weight in telling him he didn’t need to make this sacrifice, carefully guiding a stubborn old man out of his head and setting him straight again, because the answer could be that simple for once even if everything else wasn’t. 

He’d be an even greater fool not to try just because it might be hard, knowing already that he’d regret not giving you every bit that he had to give out of fear and his own self doubt, so with a cautious nod he was agreeing, ribs loosening with a breath he felt like he’d been holding in for ages.

Nightfall was approaching now and Bruce had since snuck off after a little more discussion and a flat toned promise to eat dinner before going anywhere else, leaving Alfred sat at his desk with a newfound clarity to things. 

This made sense to him now, the swirl of thoughts racing through his brain. 

He knew how he felt about you and could admit he wanted to be with you, hands buzzing as he racked his mind for how to tell you, because it had been weeks now and he didn’t want to waste anymore time, he needed you to know he was serious and wanted a relationship and by god he hoped you felt the same. 

An idea came to mind on the tail end of his thoughts, Bruce’s earlier words echoing as he pulled out a few pages of his favorite writing paper, adjusting his glasses quickly before he picked up a pen and began writing.

The first snowfall in Gotham was just beginning to blanket the streets, snowflakes melting against the frosty windows while you got bundled up to go out on a date!

A small window of time opened up over the weekend and Alfred had taken the reins on it, telling you he wanted to take you out again, properly and his pick this time, promising to plan something he thinks you’d really enjoy.

You swear your heart skips when you see his sleek car pull up outside your apartment, feet already carrying you down the steps to meet him outside. 

“Hello, love. You look beautiful!” that smooth, accented voice causing your cheeks to burn despite the chill of the snow falling around you. 

Running into his arms he embraced you tight, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple before getting you tucked into the car.

“Thank you, same to you, handsome. I missed you.” your wistful sigh came softly as you put your seatbelt on, already trying to figure out where he was taking you. 

“I missed you too, more than you know. Ready?” His warm hands caressed your knee for a moment, squeezing as you gave him an answering nod. 

The car rumbled to life and you were off, the heat turned up comfortably while you slipped into an easy conversation that continued until he was pulling into a parking spot, one of the quieter downtown streets lit up and glittering through the window. 

“Are you treating me to pastries and hot chocolate right now? Is that the date because if so please say yes!” your excited shiver earned you a laugh when you step out, his cane in one hand and your own clasped around his arm, squeezing his bicep as you walked towards the sweet smelling cafe up ahead. 

“As many pastries as you’d like, darling…I also may have ordered us a special dessert ahead of time too.” his sheepish grin warming your heart. 

He was so impossibly sweet there were times where you wondered what you ever did to deserve him.

“Ooh that sounds fancy, are we celebrating something?” the innocent question hung opened ended as he got the door for you. 

“You could say that, yeah.” 

-

Later, foamy whipped cream lined the edge of your lips from sipping on the hot chocolate you’d taken to-go, Alfred kissing away the sugar quickly after even when you giggled out a protest against his lips.

Rounding the street together, it felt so nice to be this close and receiving his affection, holding hands as you walked.

You found it so cute how he checked to make sure no one was watching before he ducked down for another quick kiss.

Just as cute as when he sat next to you at the cafe, a reassuring hand resting over your thigh, absentmindedly playing with your fingers and the hem of your outfit while you indulged your sweet tooth.

That special dessert he ordered turning out to be one he used to love when he was younger, his wish in sharing it here to make a new memory of it with you.

Oh, he couldn’t be real.

That effortless charm was getting him everywhere and the delight didn’t seem to stop because now you were in front of a quaint, cozy looking bookstore, his arm already at the small of your back guiding you inside. 

The smell of ink and paper filled your nose, a homey feeling in your chest browsing over the shelves; your first bookstore date together.

You couldn’t have been more excited, glancing at Alfred every few seconds, all smiles and bright eyes pointing out familiar titles and old favorites, reading the descriptions of interesting looking novels together, a real and definite shift in the air. 

Something in the eye contact was different…heavier, a weight to it that made you feel short of breath.

Almost achingly so, your body was acutely aware of his closeness to you, the soft wrap of his hand over your waist, how his shoulder bumped into yours when you wandered over to the romance novel section, it made you feel like your chest was caving in, and you weren’t even afraid.

No, you were happy to let yourself collapse into the feeling.

The bookstore made you feel a little like you were in a romance novel yourself, faded patterned rugs draping the wood floors, soft fairy lights hanging above you and the rows of books and haphazard stacks laid out in armchairs all felt whimsical, romantic; perfect for two bookworms turned lovers.

“This is part two of my date plans, you know. Whatever books catch your eye, I’ll buy for you, my treat.

As if he didn’t aready have the key to your heart. 

“Even if the book is an erotic novel?” you beamed back at him, smiling at the one he’d picked up off the shelf you were peering at, recognizing the cover anywhere.

“Oh especially if it’s that.” 

“How crass, Mr. Pennyworth, I would have thought you to be more of a Shakespeare guy!” you joke and pluck the book from his hands, thumbing through a few pages.

“I most certainly am but I do have skills in other areas too, darling. It’s important to be a well rounded reader.” 

He says it with an edge to his voice that leaves you speechless, your brain lagging just a second behind as he leads you further into the store, a beeline made to the poetry section. 

-

A short while later and both of your arms were balancing a stack of books each, you trailing behind Alfred as he lead him you to a secluded spot in one of the reading corners in the store’s second level so now you were sitting side by side, musing over your book picks for each other. 

True to his words, he’d bought you all the books of your choosing along with some he’d gotten just for himself too; a photobook of the English countryside, another about hand to hand fighting and then a few books about chemical compounds finding their way into the mix too.

You didn’t know he had an interest in chemistry but didn’t question it, forgetting about it a moment later when he pulled out a book he found of different black burlesque dancers through history, a little gasp filling the quiet space when he told he got it as a gift for you.

As if you needed anymore reasons to fall for him further, all this was taking the cake.

- 

Hours had gone by, the two of you huddled together sharing stolen kisses in between the last sips of hot chocolate and the turning of pages, truly feeling like you were in a world apart with him, like whatever was happening out there in the world couldn’t touch you, at least not here. 

Heat tingled on your lips when you kissed him again, a little more soundly this time, showing him just how much you missed him. 

It had been too long.

Remembering that the last time you’d been intimate like this was the morning of the attack, part of you wishing you could be in his bed right now, spread out underneath him, taking him until you were making a mess of his sheets but the other part of you didn’t want to leave this moment in time with him, a whole different level of intensity to this all on it’s own.

You’d never felt so connected, so close in your life, so much unspoken sentiment in the way his larger hands were grasping your much smaller ones, holding them warmly before his forehead was pressing against yours.

“I have one more thing to give to you, sweetheart.” 

Your eyes fluttered open then, the gentleness in his whisper wrecking you, sitting patiently as he moved back a bit. Watching with bated breath, he fished an envelope out of the inside pocket of his coat and placed it in your hands, leaving the rest up to you. 

The way your heart was clammoring in your chest and your own anticipation kept you from noticing the nervous jitter of his hands, seconds feelings like minutes while you unfolded the paper, realizing he’d written on it, recognizing his handwriting right away.

With trembling hands you brushed your fingers over where he had written your name, words beginning to sink in as you read the letter addressed to you. 

My love, 

I fear there will never be enough words to describe how dear you are to me but I will try my best to write them all here. I’ve never felt so sure about someone before, about the way you make me feel and how vast those feelings are. The morning we met I had a feeling that there must have been a reason we crossed paths and now I know there was. You must know I couldn’t sleep that night, because all I could think about was if you were okay and if you had made it home safely. I just couldn’t get you out of my head and then there you were again at The Magpie wanting to talk to me and I knew then I was the luckiest man in the world.

Glancing up from the page you locked eyes with Alfred for just a moment, a perfect mirror of your feelings reflected in them. 

Never in a million years did I think I’d ever feel this way again but I do and I need you to know that being a man worthy of your affections is all that I want to be. You were meant to shine as brightly as you do, my darling, I never want you to feel as if you have to hide your talent or temper the big, wondrous ideas you have. They’re all I ever want to hear. You do in fact have my heart, love, as much of it as you want to take, it is yours. 

Tears welled along your lashes as you kept reading, everything in you softened by each line, your heart opening, hatching, blooming at his words, hearing how much he felt for you too. 

…things are less than ideal right now I know, and there are things you don’t know about me yet either, things in my past and certain things in the present that I want to tell you about but have to be careful of first, your safety is always a priority for me but I do plan to tell you in time. Darling, I know how I feel about you and I think and hope you feel the same about me. I cherish every second I get to spend with you, there’s so much I want to show you, so much I want to tell you and do with you by my side if you’ll have me. 

There was one more page left, filled with more words that made your stomach flip with butterflies, those tears threatening to fall because what he was saying was everything you had hoped for and then some.

And you think you understood what he meant about needing to be careful with certain secrets before he could speak about them, thinking on your own situation with Penguin—you still hadn't told Alfred those men where his that had been sent to follow you.

It was wonder how your heart was still inside your chest at this rate, a tear breaking free to fall down your cheek as you finished reading, lingering where he signed his name.

Yours always,

x Alfred. 

The letter lay in your lap as strong hands- no longer trembling- reached for you again, brushing the stray tear from your cheek. 

Your face was cupped so tenderly in his hands you almost started to cry for real, never knowing it could be like this, that you could be told and shown in so many ways that you were wanted and adored.

“I know we haven't really discussed this yet and so much has gotten in the way but I want to say it here and now, I would really love it if you wanted to be mine. Admittedly it has been some time since I’ve dated anyone and I am rusty, you’ll have to forgive me if this could have been better but I do want to be with you, I have all this time.” 

“Oh, Alfred. Yes, of course I want to be yours! I’d love nothing more. And shut up, this was a perfect way to tell me, you’re not rusty at all, old man.” 

You sniffled with a laugh, leaning in to press your forehead against his again, both of you sinking into the moment together, feeling tethered to one another now, connected in a way you hadn’t been before. 

Things had just gotten very real and for as much as you’d pondered and daydreamed of this moment, you didn’t feel an ounce of fear at the gravity of feelings before you.

Trusting in Alfred’s words, ones he’d actually taken the time to spell out to you on paper so you could keep the reminder of his devotion forever, the gesture easing any worry there might have been. 

Snow was still falling outside as you sat together for just a little while longer, Alfred pretending not to notice you sneaking giddy glances at him while you gazed over the letter one more time before stowing it safely away in your bag. 

Your hand finds his, fingers lacing together while you rest your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes contently for a moment when you feel his cheek press against you.

The odds still seemed grim, the whole city on edge with so much uncertainty left on the horizon, cause enough for isolation and the walls around people’s hearts to come up but not here, not with you and Alfred.

You felt stronger for it, having faith that whatever was coming your way in the time ahead, you’d have him by your side and that gave you all the hope in the world.

---

A/N: Soo they finally got their moment! I actually began this chapter with the ending of it in mind already, I was listening to the chapter title song in the playlist and was like oh this is where it would play, this is the moment where he admits his feelings and asks her to be his girl

There were times where writing this chapter was such a challenge but also really exciting and wholesome too! Hope it gives you all the feels it gave me and I'm giving kisses to those who pick up on all the little details in this too, thank you so much for your patience while I write this series and for all the love!

(dividers used are by the wonderful @saradika 💫 )

Let me know what you think!! Thank you for reading as always!

some tags, no pressure! @eupheme @squidlywiddly87 @the-eyes-of-andyserkis @tarabyte3 @tarrenterror25 @ozarkthedog @peachyteabuck @unrefinedmusings @aislupu @mariahthelioness29 @flamingdisputes @ayoarticulate @fluffyprettykitty @kneelforloki @allaboardthereadingrailroad @xoxovivarecs

[blainesebastian]

date night (ccg universe)

words: 3,181 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (3 combined requests) “ @aloversblog requested: luci has a panic attack for the first time and austin calms her down + @aust1nbutlersgirl requested ccg and austin’s first date after having luci + anon requested Austin and reader come home exhausted and unwind by giving each other a custom massage” warnings: none notes: i am back from disney and v sleepy slkdjf but it was so worth it! thanks to anyone who reads, comments, reblogs or likes :) much appreciated!  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted

It feels like it’s been a long time since you and Austin had a proper date even though you know that’s not the case. There’s a lot of playing catch up—not just with jobs, passions, your body being yours again, or alone time, but what normalcy looks like now. It’s not that you’ve been thinking about how to take a break from Luci, from being parents, but…carving out space to be with your husband will only strengthen your bond as parents. To be honest, you’re not sure why you hadn’t thought about it sooner. You suppose you wake up busy, there’s barely a moment to settle let alone plan an entire date.

It ends up being Austin’s idea.

You’ve just gotten out of the shower, a large towel wrapped around your body as you comb out your hair and the bathroom door opens. Before you can even turn to look over your shoulder, you feel Austin come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist.

A soft laugh leaves your lips, a gentle squirming of heat in your chest and sinking between your legs when his nose and lips dip into your neck. He breathes you in before placing a kiss on the pulse of your throat,

“I love the smell of your skin when you just get out of the shower,” He whispers and it’s ridiculous how easy he can make your heart skip beats like that.

“We are not foolin’ around when I’m clean, Austin.”

He smirks and places another kiss on your shoulder before shaking his head, “I’m offended that you think I’m only after one thing.”

You roll your eyes and laugh when he attempts to take down your towel. You turn in his arms and playfully smack his shoulder with the brush in your hand, “Predictable.”

Austin leans down and nips at your bottom lip with his own, “Can’t help it, I miss you.”

And you do understand what he means—you miss him like that too, having time for intimacy, time just made for one another, the feeling of his skin on yours, sounds from his mouth fluttering along your skin, the way his fingers would curl against and inside of you. But not just sex, either, the love language of spending time and having him near.

You reach your hand up to cup his cheek, running your thumb along his cheekbone before you lean up on your toes and kiss him. He hums and picks you up, setting you on the sink counter and slipping between your legs. Your hands move under his shirt and skate your nails down his back, keeping him close, heat pulsing insistently lower and lower. So much for that shower—

And then Luci starts crying.

The moan that leaves your lips turns into a groan, your forehead moving to rest on his shoulder. Austin lets out a short breath, looking over his shoulder at the bathroom door—she’s definitely wailing, maybe a nightmare?

“I’ll get her,” Austin squeezes you, hesitates, not wanting to pull away. You completely understand that feeling. He rights himself, his cheeks a bit flushed, eyes dark as he runs a hand through his hair. “We’re goin’ on a date.” He declares and you raise your eyebrows as he begins to back up out of the bathroom, “I’m serious, a date.”

You let out a light laugh, sliding off the counter. “Alright.”

It takes a few moments to calm yourself down, get your heartrate to stop pounding in your ears, but once you towel dry your hair and pull on some clothes, you feel a bit better. Less like your legs are completely made of jello. Turning the light off in the bathroom, you wander down the hallway to where Luci’s bedroom is, leaning against the doorframe as you watch Austin sit on her bed.

He tugs the covers back and picks her up into his arms, “Shh,” He whispers, “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Austin soothes, moving her hair away from sticking to her wet cheeks or her forehead. You wince lightly at the sounds coming out of her mouth—whatever she’d been dreaming about obviously scared her.

Though, to be fair, this is the same girl who watches dinosaur videos and kinda likes the idea of aliens and ghosts, so, she’s much tougher than she seems.

“Someone have a nightmare?” You ask, coming in to her room and turning on her nightlight, a small multi-colored lamp on her nightstand that projects pretty pastel colors onto her ceiling. She hasn’t been using it lately, but maybe it’ll help.

“Monsta.” Luci cries, hiccupping as she rests her head on Austin’s shoulder. She’s got a firm grip on his shirt as he keeps her close to him, gently rocking her back and forth.

“There are no monsters, baby, I promise.” He croons, brushing a kiss over her forehead.

Luci does not seem overly convinced, pointing at her closet. You smile a little and move to open up the door, turning on the light. You move some clothes around and motion to her that everything is fine.

“Nothing here.”

“See?” Austin whispers, pressing a kiss to one of her cheeks.

“Bed,” She murmurs, sniffling. She uses one of her hands to wipe her face even though it doesn’t do much. You know that she’s rather distressed by this whole nightmare thing but…she’s kinda cute with her hair a staticky mess, cheeks flushed, in her dino pajamas against Austin’s chest as they try to figure out this whole monster business.

“Under the bed?” Austin asks and you hum lightly, moving towards her bed and kneeling on the floor. You make a very big deal at pulling the covers up and looking underneath.

“No monsters, just some dust bunnies and—” You pull her black dino stuffed animal out from where it fell near the one bedframe leg, it must have tumbled off when she was having her nightmare. “Found a friend of yours. Did you lose him?”

You have the dino kiss her nose and that seems to get her to relax, even giggle as she playfully pushes him away from her face.

There’s a sense of relief that settles on Austin’s shoulders that Luci is no longer upset and both of you tuck her back into bed. Austin lays her down and you put her dino stuffed animal back into her arms. She squeezes it and when her dad pulls the blankets up to her chin, she leans up and gives him a big kiss on his cheek.

“Wow, thank you.” He grins.

“Hey, you got one for me?” You pout from your spot still on the floor and Luci giggles before giving you one too.

You smirk, blowing a raspberry against her neck that makes her laugh before standing with your husband. She seems in much better spirits and leaves the timer on for her nightlight in hopes that it’ll help her fall asleep a bit faster.

“Night baby,” Austin says, slipping his hand into yours as he turns off the bedroom light, both of you stepping into the hallway.

You take in a long breath, moving to the bedroom with him again, your fingers laced like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and maybe it is. You plop yourself onto the bed, allowing him to pull away so he can take off the jeans he has on,

“You know, as someone who’s seen a lot of horror movies, we should probably take her whole ‘monster under the bed’ thing more seriously.”

Austin laughs, mostly air leaving his nose, “Don’t even start.”

You grin, your eyes grazing over his body. No matter how long you’ve been together, this is a sight you never get used to or tired of seeing. You’re particularly fond of the freckles that spackle the tops of his shoulders and his cheekbones, especially after he’s been out in the sun. The wide curls in his hair near his forehead, the shape of his mouth, the delicate silver chain he always has on.

“Did you mean what you said?” You ask, raising your eyebrows when he looks over at you. “About the date thing?”

He smiles a little, wandering over to the bed. Austin reaches out and brushes some hair around your ear, “Course. Just you and me—we’ll get a babysitter for Luci, see if Jillian’s available.”

And you kind of hold your breath because…it’s a great idea, selfish for sure, but you find that you’re trying to convince yourself for a moment. Austin must sense your hesitation, trailing his thumb along your cheekbone, a silent conversation of it’s okay.

Then, “I still know how to wine and dine you; you know.” He points out, making you laugh.

Austin slips between your legs, gently pushing you to lie back on the bed as his own body molds on top of yours, finishing that kiss you started earlier. Austin knowing exactly what you need, that, for sure, you have no doubt.

--

It’s no problem for Jillian to watch Luci, she accepts before you can even get the full question out. It’s a relief because…despite being away from your daughter before, it’s a weird sensation of worry of leaving her to be with Austin. Even though there’s absolutely nothing to worry about? Regardless, the feelings are mostly quelled with having Jillian being the one watching her.

The last thing you want is for your husband to think that you don’t desire this whole date thing, because you do, it’s just…figuring out how it all fits into your new normal.

The beginning of the night is a bit rough, admittedly, you’re tense and stuck in your thoughts. When dinner ends, Austin playfully takes your shoulders and massages them,

“You’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep scowlin’ like that.”

And he makes you laugh and eventually, you begin to melt into his company. Everything’s fine—Luci is safe, having fun with her aunt Jillian, there are no SOS texts and you get the whole night with your husband, time sometimes that is never guaranteed with how busy you both can get.

Once you head to a familiar bar for a drink and you have not one shot, but two, you’ve definitely loosened up. There’s longevity to this date, plenty of the night to string out to get a tiny bit drunk—then again, Austin’s always held his alcohol a little better than you, so you might be the only one getting tipsy.

You’re leaning against the bar, facing Austin, his one arm resting on the bar top while the other remains on your waist. A soft laugh leaves your lips as one hand comes up and covers your face,

“God, how am I already kinda drunk?”

Austin tugs the hand away, grinning, brushing a kiss over your forehead, “Because you’re havin’ fun. Not a crime, you know.”

And you suppose that’s true. You’ve both done what’s responsible—Luci’s with Jillian and you took the subway here so there’d be no worries about driving. Though at this point one of your main concerns is falling asleep on the subway…you suppose there are worse things.

“You think Luci misses us?”

Austin shakes his head, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth, “Last time I checked she was bakin’ a cake with aunt Jillian, so, m’gonna go with a resounding no.”

There’s a soft pout on your lips, “She better leave us some to eat, that sounds amazing right now.”

Austin hums and playfully grasps your chin with his fingers, drawing you into a slow kiss. It never fails to send heat circulating right through your body, like ivy reaching out, coiling, settling. You lean up into the kiss just when he begins to pull away and you don’t give a shit about PDA or whether anyone is actually paying attention to the two of you—it feels too good being pressed up against him, one of your hands brushing underneath his shirt to trace the skin of his lower back.

You two only pull back to breathe, nuzzling your noses in a soft bunny kiss.

A popular pop song comes over the speakers and despite that this is not a dancing bar, a handful of people are swaying to the rhythm of the music where its free of tables. Your eyes light up, squeezing Austin’s hand because you definitely need to move to this.

“You don’t have to come,” You tell him, knowing that while he’s danced plenty of times (especially for a so-called-role) he doesn’t always enjoy doing it.

But he’s walking with you, shifting away from his spot at the bar, “And let someone sweep you up while you’re out here? Not happenin’.”

Austin lifts your shared hands in the air and playfully twirls you, a soft laugh leaving your lips before you end up against his body. Your arms wind around his shoulders as you both dance to the thrumming beats pushing throughout the bar.

There’s one more shared drink and another round of dancing before heading home for the night, snuggling close to Austin on the subway and almost falling asleep (you definitely know yourself). You’re not as tipsy as you were before when you walk through the door, though everything is still very much rose-colored, and you’re exhausted. You sway a bit on your feet by the front door to take your shoes off, holding onto Austin’s arm to stable yourself.

Jillian tells you both that Luci was an angel (which means she was probably a little gremlin, but aunt Jillian knows exactly how to handle that) and that there’s leftover cake on the kitchen counter (score). You definitely owe her a thank you lunch or something, even though you know she’d do it again in a heartbeat. Luci’s obviously asleep but as you grab the leftover cake and two forks, Austin checks on her before closing her bedroom door until there’s a smidge left open.

He follows you into the bedroom, doing the same thing with your door as you sit down on the edge of the bed. You hum, taking a bite of the cake,

“Just as I suspected,” You lick your lips, “Chocolate.”

Austin smiles, moving to you to wipe icing off the corner of your mouth with his thumb before leaning down to kiss you. Then, out of habit, he cups both of your cheeks and drags his thumbs along your cheekbones after pulling back.

“You had a good night, right?”

You set the cake aside on the nightstand before nodding, dipping your chin into his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm, “The best.” You pull your head back to yawn, finally standing from the bed to take your clothes off. You hold onto Austin’s arm to steady yourself again before you strip down to your underwear, swapping out a bra for a sports one.

You haphazardly take your makeup off in the bedroom before ending back up in bed, covers half pulled back as Austin changes clothes. You watch him, because how can you not, a small smile tugging the corners of your mouth as he crawls over your body to lay beside you.

You press your face into the pillow, lying on your stomach, letting out a long sigh as he draws his hand along your shoulders, “Tired baby?”

You hum before nodding, closing your eyes, “You wouldn’t be givin’ out any massages tonight, would you?”

He smirks lightly, quiet for a moment before he makes a noise in confirmation, “Yeah, but it’ll cost you.”

When you open up your eyes, he’s tapping his cheek and you grin as you lean back to press a kiss there before getting comfortable on your stomach again, drawing the pillow underneath you with your arms.

There’s always been something about Austin’s hands, the way he’s able to use them. His fingers move across your shoulders and begin working stiff and sore muscles.

It only takes a few minutes for you to realize you're completely unmatched against Austin's touch, the way he's able to take you apart, melting underneath him. You feel him lean down to press a kiss to the back of your shoulders, his hands trailing up and down your spine, working along your sides. You squirm just a little, a soft laugh leaving your lips,

"Ticklish."

Austin hums knowingly, moving his fingers to press into the muscles in the back of your neck. There seems to be a lot of firmness lingering there, tenseness. A comfortable sigh empties from your chest and maybe this was a completely bad idea because you're not even gonna be able to pay back the favor.

"You're puttin' me right to sleep." You mumble.

You can feel Austin smile, settling half of his body on top of yours. His arms rest along the ones you've got around the pillow and he buries his face into your neck, breathing you in. Seems like that's his exact intention.

--

The next thing you know it, your eyes are fluttering open to sun pouring in through the curtains...which you find super offensive because you've got a pounding headache centering from your ears? Somehow. It's doing this pulsing from your eardrums and pooling behind your eyelids and—

"Oh my god," You mumble, turning in bed to face Austin and press your face into his neck to hide.

Your husband shifts in his sleep, slowly waking up, his hand moving to brush through your hair and keep your close. He stretches his legs out, yawning, but both of you doze in and out until a handful of hours later your bedroom door is opened.

Luci makes her way inside, using the small steps at the end of the bed to crawl up onto the mattress...then ever-so-gracefully plops herself in-between your and Austin's bodies. You feel yourself start, your heartbeat pounding in your ears and even though you kinda feel like death, you can't help but smile as Luci begins to giggle.

"Oh you think that's funny?" You ask her, Austin rolling onto his back and blinking sleepily. Cute. You quickly scoop her into your arms and tug her under the covers, her laughter echoing against the walls of the bedroom, "C'mere you little gremlin."

Austin reaches for the covers and pulls the sheets over everyone's heads, creating a cocoon of warmth, Luci snuggling down between their bodies.

"Did you have fun last night with Aunt Jillian?" Austin asks, threading his fingers through her staticky hair.

She nods, then, "Want pantates."

"Pancakes?" Austin raises his eyebrows, "Full of demands this morning."

You can’t help but laugh as Luci recounts the entire night for both of you, not skipping on any little detail…definitely going to be held up in this bed for a while. Austin lazily drags his hand over to yours, lacing fingers as he listens to your daughter.

The date night was simple but everything you could have asked for—makes waking up on mornings like this, the three of you tucked under the covers and sharing stories, even more special.

[wittywallflower]

prompts chosen for Week Three:

15. Snowstorm/snowed in 21. Winter Solstice

“Thomas, what on earth?” 

Edwin had arrived through the mirror to find the old fishery warehouse in Port Townsend absolutely teeming with cats. There may have been many lurking around for the Cat King’s initial threat display to the newcomers in his territory, but it was not actually normal for so many of the cats to hang around. Usually there was only a couple lurking around when Edwin visited, but now there were dozens, curled up tightly together in any spot that looked halfway comfortable. 

They chattered to each other and at their king. Edwin had to raise his voice and repeat himself before he was heard.

“Happy as I am to see you, I’m a bit busy at the moment,” Thomas said, not stopping to greet Edwin warmly as he usually did. “Whether you need help with a case or you were just hoping for a little rendezvous, I’m going to have to take a rain check.”

Edwin rolled his eyes. “Just checking in. Even halfway around the world in London the radio has mentioned this massive storm you’re dealing with. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

[[imo this beast is too long for Tumblr, AO3 link]]

Thomas, much to Edwin’s surprise, did not get smug or start teasing Edwin for the ghost’s concern over his well-being. He barely seemed to regard Edwin’s presence at all as he moved around the warehouse space, further away from Edwin which made the ghost frown. Usually Thomas would be angling for a hug within moments of seeing him.

“No one’s going to die of exposure, but it's not going to be a very comfortable night.” 

The Cat King’s voice was distracted and free of any of its usual humor or sass.

Thomas stopped to scoop up the newest litter of stray kittens. Their mother had barely gotten them all inside before the temperature dropped and the wind kicked up. They’d had a good suckle now though, full of milk and sleepy with it, so he laid them on the vast hairy belly of the town’s oldest Maine Coon. The behemoth was surrounded on all sides by other cats curled against her, the purring loudest in her corner of the room. From their cozy new bed, there was nowhere the kittens could squirm away to that wouldn't be just as warm and comforting to them. 

Edwin watched him, noticing Thomas’s breath fogging faintly in the air. The ghost couldn’t feel the cold of course. If not for the forecasters predicting snowy Armageddon apparently Edwin would not have had cause to even consider the local temperature. But it still would have been obvious. Not just from the visible breaths but from the way that Thomas was wearing several layers of clothing, topped with the large fur robe. This time it was wrapped tight around his torso and belt tied firmly in place. 

There was frost creeping along the walls around the doors and windows. The old cannery was derelict, and had never been insulated to begin with, but usually it was kept adequately comfortable for the cats. Edwin couldn't understand why that wouldn't be the case now when it was most needed. 

“Would it not be prudent to make it warmer in here?” he asked.

The Cat King’s snort was an ugly thing, angry and dismissive. 

“You think I haven’t thought of that? I may have been an orange cat in my last life, but I assure you I am not and have never been a himbo. But I’m also not all-powerful and it’s a bit beyond me at the moment to hold back the collective fucking forces of all of Mother Nature bearing down on us with an assload of freezing cold wet shit falling from the fucking sky!”

Thomas was nearly shouting by the time he was finished, still not looking at Edwin, still focused on tending to his subject, ensuring their safety and comfort. Used to their King’s antics, the cats took little notice of his little rant, only an annoyed flick of a tail here and there. 

“Right,” Edwin said, tone clipped. “Excuse me.”

Thomas didn’t have the chance to respond before Edwin was gone with a ripple along the glass of the mirror’s surface. He wouldn’t have been able to think of a response anyway. And he was a bit too busy to consider how he was going to grovel his way out of this one later. 

❄️

When he came through the mirror once more Edwin found the warehouse still and silent. Furry bodies huddled together in mounds. Several of them stirred and lifted their heads to examine him when he arrived. So they weren’t in some sort of frozen torpor; just conserving their energy and sharing body heat. But all clearly uncomfortable enough that no one was feeling chatty. Cats usually had a lot to say, to each other, to their King, even to Edwin once he was deemed interesting enough to bother with.

No one said anything now though as Edwin stepped carefully around the cat cuddle piles. He couldn’t see Thomas anywhere but obviously he wouldn’t leave his subjects. 

Edwin was practically on top of the throne before he spotted the pitch black fur barely noticeable amongst the calicos and the tabbies, all of them crowded around that one ghastly-looking hairless fellow that Edwin had taken a liking to, despite himself. 

With a hopelessly endearing mrrrp, Thomas opened his eyes and turned to look at Edwin, surprise and confusion evident on an oddly-expressive feline face. The Cat King gracefully extracted himself from the throne and Edwin followed him to a corner where they could talk. Once in human form it was hard for Thomas to meet Edwin’s eye, a bit sheepish and rueful.

“Didn’t expect to see you back, ghostie.”

Edwin raised an eyebrow. 

“Tonight, or at all?”

Thomas could only shrug. 

As much as he would prefer to play nonchalant at pretty much every occasion, Thomas knew he was not great at keeping his cool. Had been accused of having the occasional temper tantrum. It was perhaps not the most attractive aspect of his being. And it was a side of himself he had shown Edwin too often. 

But if Edwin had learned anything from having so many people in his life now, it was that sometimes you had to make concessions for the way people expressed themselves in the heat of the moment, had to be understanding of the big feelings that prompted outbursts. Edwin knew what Thomas looked like when he was just being petty or bitchy; it didn’t fit the current situation. 

Edwin could be a petty bitch sometimes too though, so he let the Cat King squirm under his gaze for a long moment before he relented.

“You can grovel properly later,” Edwin said with a small smile that spoke of forgiveness nonetheless. “For now, let’s make your cats more comfortable.” 

A previously unnoticed but undeniably familiar magical backpack sat on Edwin’s back. He set it down, pulled it open, and began untying one of several brightly colored ribbons tied around the top of the bag. 

The Cat King’s frown of confusion prompted a tiny huff from Edwin. 

“Charles is the one who knows how to navigate this bloody bag of tricks. This is the fastest way to actually find what I am looking for without pulling out an unpleasant surprise or two first.” 

The ghost was cute when he was petulant. And he hated not being good at something.

Edwin reached deep within the bag, groping along the length of the ribbon until he found his target and could get both hands on it. 

“Take the bag, please?” Edwin requested.

Once Thomas had hefted the bag up and turned it on its side, it was easier for Edwin to extract a cylindrical bundle as long and as broad as a man (one bulkier than either of them, at that). Unwrapped it revealed two small tents, suitable for cold weather camping and good at trapping any heat inside them according to Jenny who refused to explain why she owned them in the first place and also why she had toted them along on the move to London. They would be useful now though, back in Port Townsend where they had started. Setting them up was the work of only a moment, thanks to the minute purple flame of magic from the Cat King. 

Edwin didn’t go digging in the bag again; the next ribbon was pulled gently out of the bag’s opening, wound into a ball as it came. Eventually, like reeling in a strange fish, the ribbon came out tied around the neck of a red rubber rectangle. And then another one. And another. Until there were 8 hot water bottles knotted along in a line, looking like a string of particularly unappealing sausages. Thomas could feel the warmth coming off of them even from a few steps away, which actually said too much about the sad state of affairs the cannery was in. 

“I believe four to each tent will be best. The youngest and most vulnerable will get the warmest spots,” Edwin was planning as he untied the bottles. 

Thomas stepped forward to act on that plan but Edwin held up a hand to stop him.

“I can’t tell if they will be painfully hot to the touch for your skin, so please allow me to handle them.”

Fuck, it really did it for Thomas when Edwin was being chivalrous and thoughtful and gallant. All this wasn’t even for Thomas himself but for his cats; somehow that just seemed to make it even sexier. 

Heat packs distributed, Edwin returned to the bag. The next objects were stubborn, whatever they were. Pulling did nothing but strain the ribbon, and neither of them had the upper body strength to muscle it out themselves. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” was Edwin’s collected version of a frustrated curse. 

The ghost grabbed the bag and climbed on top of a nearby crate. Turning the bag upside down, he gave the ribbon a hard tug and hoped for gravity to work his favor. It took only a second before a blanket came tumbling out. Then another, and another, each tied into a chain by their corners. Instead of sausages, this turned out more like an avalanche of fabric as the blankets kept piling up and up into a massive waist-high mound. 

When the last blanket came fluttering out, Edwin was quick to slam the bag shut in case anything else wanted to come tumbling out too. 

The sight of it all was comical, and Thomas truly did want to laugh. But the fact was that he was a little overcome. The haphazard hodgepodge of blankets was so clearly personally donated by the resident Scooby gang of the Dead Boy Detective Agency. It was… something, the realization that he knew them all well enough to recognize their personal tastes. Not that it was hard to identify the owner of the blanket on top of the pile, pink with Chococat on it. It screamed Niko and she would find it adorable to have an actual cat curled up on a cat blanket. 

Whatever their past differences, they all liked him well enough now to want to help him. And he had to admit (though only privately for now) that he liked them too. 

It had been a long time since Thomas had friends who had any interest in doing things for him unless they were angling to get something from him. But the people he now called friends: two dead boys, three living girls, and one whatever-the-hell-a-Night-Nurse-even-is, weren’t like that. They wanted to help because they cared, and because they were Good. 

Instead of spending time in introspection on the fact that maybe it made him want to be just a little bit more Good too, Thomas focused on helping Edwin untie the blankets and gather them to place a pile inside of each tent. Others they left on elevated surfaces around the room, up off the frigid concrete floor, for any who couldn't find room in the tents. 

The cats began to stir, some grumpy about being forced to move, others heading eagerly for the nests of warmth and softness created for them. Edwin nodded in satisfaction, mentally checking that task off the To Do list in his head, before he pulled a familiar book of spells out of his coat pocket. 

With the Cat King’s knowledge and connections, Edwin’s self-taught magical skills had been growing steadily. He put them to use now with a unique barrier spell that would seal out the wind and snow. It wasn’t strong enough to keep out the cold, Nature was more powerful than magic, but it would help insulate the building enough to retain what warmth there was. He had cobbled it together in a hurry and normally would not use an untested spell, but the Night Nurse had been kind enough to use her resources to check that it would be effective and not have any unintended harmful consequences. Rather conveniently, the only byproduct of the imperfect magic would be a slight heat generated by the invisible barrier. 

Without frigid winds whistling in through every crack and crevice, the effects were immediately noticeable. Thomas could feel the difference, even if he his breath still fogged with each exhale. 

“Right, that’s that bit sorted,” Edwin said, shutting his notebook with a snap and moving back to the mirror, grabbing Charles’ bag along the way. 

Thomas trailed after him, feeling awkward and at a loss for what to do now. 

“Thank you for your help, Edwin. I’ll have to make it up to you next time I see you.”

Edwin’s brow furrowed in confusion and he looked at Thomas for a long moment, before rolling his eyes. Taking the Cat King by the hand, he drew the monarch closer to the mirror. 

“I’m coming back, you hopeless git. The girls are helping Jenny prepare some food and I expect i will be sent with half a butcher shop's worth of raw meat. Remain right here, I will need your help carrying it all when i return.”

Thomas could only stand glued to spot, smiling stupidly to himself, for the short time before two large catering trays held by two disembodied arms reached through the mirror. When relieved of their burden, the arms disappeared back through the glass before Edwin himself stepped through. Ass first, much to Thomas’s confused delight. 

The ghost was bent over to carefully drag a massive soup pot by its handle (are cauldrons still a thing? The vessel was definitely big enough to start throwing the word ‘cauldron’ around for it and must be heavy as hell, explaining why Edwin didn’t just carry the thing.) Edwin's other hand was occupied steadying the tall stacks of bowls that teetered precariously on top of the pot/cauldron’s lid. The Cat King leapt forward to help move the dishes into smaller stacks on the stable floor before any could fall and break.

A lock of hair escaped Edwin’s tidy hairstyle as he stood back to his full height. He tried to blow it out of his eyes with a puff of air but ghost’s don’t actually, you know, breathe. It was cute as shit, the weird little habits Edwin picked up from hanging out with living people a lot more these days. 

Before Edwin could lift a hand, Thomas reached up and pushed the hair smoothly back into place. He received a warm smile for his efforts and couldn’t help but return it with a sappy grin of his own. They gazed into each other’s eyes.

“We’d best distribute this before it gets cold,” Edwin said softly, reluctant to break the moment. He nodded towards the pot at their feet. “Bone broth. Extremely nutritious and warming.”

And a better meal than most of the strays had managed this month, especially with a side of meat to go with it. 

They quickly set the food out where everyone would have room to eat without crowding or fighting. A line of bowls was placed along the entrances of the tents, so the young, the weak, and the elderly wouldn’t have to leave the warmer areas to eat but also couldn't spill their dinner on their blankets. 

The felines were thawing back to being comfortable, some of them getting active again, warming themselves up further with play. A mound of cats had migrated from their previous spots to curl up in piles around the metal pot that still radiated heat as it was slowly emptied. 

Thomas looked around as his subjects enjoyed their repast. Finally, he felt truly at ease again. Confident that his cats would not just survive the night, but would actually be reasonably happy through it all. Cats are creatures who valued their comfort.

Edwin had no idea how much devotion he had earned himself tonight. The cats were going to annoy the shit out of the ghost after this with their desire for more of his attention, and Thomas was going to watch it all with a smile of fond amusement. For now though his subjects gave their benefactor his space to stand alongside their King. 

With satisfaction akin to that of a job well jobbed, Edwin assessed the situation with a smile of his own. But it dimmed when he realized not everyone was comfortable yet. 

Thomas’s breaths didn’t steam in the air anymore, but his nose and cheeks were still ruddy with the cold, his hands shoved into the pockets of his robe. Now that they weren’t moving around the room he was shivering. The only cat that hadn’t been huddled together with others. 

“Come,” Edwin said decisively, taking Thomas by the wrist and leading him to one of the tents. “Warm yourself up too. I’ll keep an eye on things.”

Only half full now with some of the cats still finishing off the food or grooming themselves after their meal, there was plenty of room for Thomas who took his black cat form and gratefully curled up among the blankets on top of a still-warm hot water bottle. A trio of nearby felines shifted to move closer, crowding their King protectively and ratcheting up their soothing purrs. 

Edwin tidied up the dishes, passing them back through the mirror with the trays. The pot was much easier to lift now that it was empty so it followed the rest. In return another ribbon was shoved into his hand. As another link-sausage-line of hot water bottles was dragged through to the cannery, Edwin rolled his eyes. The ladies must have raided every pharmacy for blocks. At least Crystal could afford it; they’d have to figure out something to do with it all when this was over.

He spread the new toasty-warm bottles round to the various piles of blankets and inside the tents, setting one next to Thomas who promptly rolled over and wrapped his paws around it. 

What else could one do in the face of that, except pet the adorable creature? A few strokes along the feline spine, and a scritch under the jaw was all Edwin planned to allow himself, but Thomas woke up enough to capture his finger between velvety black paws. 

“Join me?” he requested quietly.

Edwin hesitated for only a second before he removed his boots and coat, leaving them outside the tent. When he crawled inside, Thomas was in human form again with just enough space left open at his side. He took Edwin’s hand once the ghost was settled, lying down next to him. 

The hush of quiet was unbroken for long moments before Thomas spoke. 

“It’s the winter solstice,” he murmured quietly, eyes fixed on the ceiling of the tend above them. 

Edwin wasn’t sure of the relevance of that fact until the Cat King elaborated. 

“Human folklore likes to brand cats as creatures of the night. But in terms of magic, we are children of the Sun. It fuels us in supernatural ways. For my subjects, for your average house-cat, even for the tiger at the local zoo, the seasonal change is negligible. But for a magic user like me, the connection to that power wanes this time of year.”

It must be difficult for Thomas to admit all this. Vain creature that he was, he would no doubt prefer to be seen as rather more powerful than reality. 

The difference to his magic wouldn’t seem significant to anyone but himself, probably. He could still do all his usual tricks, change his ridiculous outfits, shapeshift, teleport here and there. But stacking one’s magical abilities against a severe snowstorm…. few creatures were meant to have that kind of power even at their peak, and fewer still could wield it responsibly. But more than damaging his pride, it must have been galling for Thomas not to be able to fix the problem for his subject with a snap. He had a duty to them, one he took quite seriously despite his insouciant facade.

“You didn’t need your powers to protect them,” Edwin said. Thomas turned his head to look at the ghost who gave his best reassuring smile. He traced a finger over Thomas’s cheekbone, watching his inky eyelashes flutter shut.

“All is well. You can rest now.”

And wrapped in Edwin’s arms, Thomas did. 

The storm passed, the next day dawned clear and calm, the world rimed with ice that made everything glitter in the rising sun.

[AN: not all of the cats in Port Townsend are meant to be in the warehouse. most of the house cats are at home, some of the strays have reliable shelter, and some of the cats that are there do have places to go but if they have to be snowed in somewhere, they'd rather be with their fellow cats. some are there for shelter some are just there for a sleepover party. but feel free to imagine however many cats makes this more fun for you!]

[futureslaps]

The Captive - Chapter 28

Chapter 27     Chapter 29

Finally done! I’ve been Uber-busy with various personal stuff the last week, but I managed to get this writing done when I had time. Thanks to everyone being patient in advance!

Enjoy 💙

Kiri knew something was wrong the moment she woke up. The world seemed peaceful, with a warm breeze blowing across the skin she hadn’t covered with a blanket. The ocean lapped at the tree’s roots quietly. Everything seemed fine, but something was missing.

Spider wasn’t next to her.

Kiri opened her eyes the moment she realized it, any sleepiness quickly leaving her as she sat up, instinctively looking through the early light around for the boy.

Could she have somehow missed him completely? Had Spider arrived after she’d fallen asleep, and then woken up before her? She turned to the blankets she’d brought him, but to her dismay, they were in the same place she’d put them. A thin layer of dew on the top confirmed they hadn’t been touched.

Kiri felt a pit forming in her stomach.

Had Spider seen her sleeping next to where he would be, and walked away? Was he still uncomfortable around her?

Spider had seemed…better after she’d talked to him yesterday with her father. Had she missed something…?

Quickly, she jumped down from the sleeping spot, already trying to think of how she could apologize to Spider.

But first, she had to find him.

As Alpha Centauri slowly crept higher, she began to walk through the Metkayina village. Although her mind was fixed on finding her brother, she couldn’t help but notice the way the Metkayina were behaving. Usually, at such an early hour few of them would had stirred, but the village already seemed wide awake. Many of the adults were speaking quietly in groups, serious expressions on their faces.

Something to ask about later…

Kiri kept her eyes peeled, looking for any sign of Spider. As she neared the edge of the village, she did spot a familiar figure in the distance, seated on the edge of a pad. But it wasn’t Spider. It was her dad.

Kiri smiled a little in relief. He could help her find Spider. Maybe he’d even seen the boy if he was already awake.

She approached her father from the side, still trying to think of where Spider could be. Finally, when she was close enough not to need to yell, she called out to him.

“Hey, dad! Have…you…”

Kiri lost her voice as Jake turned to face her, and she got a look at him up close. He was covered in blood, especially around his hands. Multiple deep cuts crossed her dad’s arms, and chest, with one even going up the side of his face. She was silent for a moment, shocked by the sight before her.

Jake looked back at her with eyes red from exhaustion, but his expression looked almost…fearful.

“Dad…what…?” Kiri finally managed to muster the word, unsure of what else to even say.

“There was a…fight.” Jake spoke quietly, mumbling the words like he was embarrassed to say then. “A fight with Quaritch.”

Kiri was stunned.

“But how…?”

Jake predicted the question, and answered before Kiri could finish.

“He got out. Somehow, he got out.” When he saw Kiri’s shocked expression, Jake added “Don’t worry, he’s back in captivity. We’re safe.”

Kiri was quiet again, trying to process the new information.

Quaritch escaped.

And, judging from the serious wounds her dad had sustained, he had been armed.

But he had been recaptured. He had failed.

So why did her dad look so sullen?

Thinking about the possibilities, Kiri recalled her own secret conversation with Quaritch. It felt like ages ago, but she still remembered it clearly.

He means the world to me.

Quaritch had made it clear he would do anything to protect Spider, much to Kiri’s shock. He’d even tried to take the blame for Spider visiting him, knowing it could cause his death if it got out.

Anything…

“Dad?” Kiri spoke shakily, the sinking feeling she’d felt all morning growing deeper. “Where’s Spider?”

Her father closed his eyes when she asked the question and held his head in his hands.

Kiri’s heart sank yet lower. She could feel the tears forming in her eyes, but she repeated the question.

“Where…where is he? Is he okay?”

Jake took a deep breath, then finally answered, almost choking out the words.

“He’s … hurt.”

Kiri’s heart began to beat faster.

“Hurt? What do you mean? How?”

“He’s in the infirmary.” Jake replied, looking down.

Without waiting to see if her dad said anything more, Kiri raced for the large Marui that housed those with the most serious injuries.

Please let it be okay.

Please let it be okay.

Eywa please…

She finally crossed the threshold into the building, and quickly spotted Ronal hunched over a patient. A sky-person arm with blue stripes hung off the side of the table…

“Spider!” Kiri couldn’t help but call out loud, but she saw no movement, and heard no response, she quickly covered the distance to Spider’s side. Ronal turned to her, attempting to stop her.

“Be careful, this is not…”

Kiri ignored whatever the Tsahik had said, her panic suddenly overwhelming her. Finally, she pushed past Ronal, and saw Spider. She gasped at the sight.

Spider’s once-tan skin was pale. He was unconscious, lying limply on the bedroll. And, worst of all, his right shoulder was covered with thick bandages all around. But, even though the dark, fibrous covering, she could see the way his right arm was laying, no…hanging…wrong. And his shoulder. The shape…

Kiri let out a cry of horror.  

How could…

What…

Seeing Spider’s condition, Kiri couldn’t hold the tears back, and they came out in a stream. She started letting out sobs as she fell to her knees next to the boy’s unconscious figure. Her entire world seemed to fade into darkness, consumed by the sudden grief. She had felt the same way with Neteyam, but the pain was still unimaginable.

She should have been there. Whatever happened, she should have stopped it. She knew she could have talked to Spider, talked to her father, even talked to Quaritch. Maybe if she had, then…

“S…Spider…” Kiri croaked . “I’m…so…s-s-sorry…”

She pressed her face into the bedroll, muffling her sobs.

Kiri couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but eventually she heard someone approaching across the infirmary. A hand was laid on her shoulder.

“Kiri…I’m sorry.”

Kiri tried to stifle her crying for a bit, lifting her now tear-stained face to look up at her father.

“What…happened…?”

“He lost a lot of blood.” Jake explained, trying to sound as gentle as possible despite the subject. “and his shoulder’s…hurt. It’s hurt bad. Shattered.”

“Can it be fixed?” Kiri dared to ask the question, and the look on her dad’s face told her the answer.

“It…it doesn’t look like we can. We’re probably going to have to amputate…”

“What about Norm?” Kiri asked quickly.

“Already called him.” Jake explained. “He said he’ll take a look at it, but…it’s bad.”

“You can’t take Spider’s arm. You can’t.” Kiri pleaded. “How would he climb…shoot a bow…swim…”

“We’ll do everything we can, I promise.” Jake cupped Kiri’s face with a hand as he spoke, gently wiping away some tears. “Whatever is best for Spider, that’s what we will do. Sometimes, that choice might be tough, but we have to do the right thing.”

Kiri nodded slowly, although tears still rolled down her cheeks. She turned to look at Spider again, laying a hand on his chest. Father and daughter stood in silence for a moment, the sounds of their breaths the only audible noise.

“How?”

The sudden bluntness of Kiri’s question took Jake aback. When he didn’t respond, Kiri spoke again.

“What happened? How could he get hurt like this?”

Jake stared at his feet when the question was asked, taking a shaky breath.

“Dad?”

“It’s like I said...Quaritch…there was a fight…”

Another shaky breath.

“Spider was there…and…” Jake hesitated, but after a few seconds, he let the truth out.

“He got hit by an arrow.”

Kiri looked back to her father.

An arrow?

How could it be an arrow? The Metkayina didn’t use arrows, and her father had clearly been fighting hand to hand, judging from the cuts. That would mean…

Kiri’s eyes narrowed.

“Who’s arrow?”

No answer.

“Who’s arrow was it dad?”

Her father didn’t look up at her, failing to meet her eyes as he remained silent, his ears lowered in clear shame. It was all Kiri needed to know.

“It was mom, wasn’t it?”

Jake again didn’t answer, only making the sudden rage Kiri was feeling flare even more.

“How...how could she?” She started to raise her voice.

“It was a mistake.” Jake responded quietly, the pain in his own voice evident. But the excuse only made Kiri grow angrier.

“A mistake?” She repeated it sarcastically. “She tried to kill Spider by mistake?”

“Kiri…it wasn’t like that. Your mom would never…”

“She just did! Stop defending her!” Kiri interrupted. “She tried to kill him on the ship, and now here!”

“She was trying to kill Quaritch!” Jake tried to explain, raising his voice.

“And she didn’t care if she hit Spider!”

“We had to stop Quaritch, he was trying to kidnap Spider. We needed to…”

“THEN I WISH HE SUCCEEDED!”

Jake grew silent at the words Kiri yelled. He faced his daughter, half shocked, half devastated. Kiri stared back at him, tears running down her face. But her eyes were hard. After a moment of silence, she continued.

“I wish Quaritch could have taken Spider far away from here! Far away from the people who want to MURDER him! ” The words were half yelled, half choked. It was painful to say, but she couldn’t hide her true thoughts.

“Kiri, it’s not…I…” Jake stumbled over his words, still too shocked to properly respond.

“Stop…just…sto…” Kiri’s sentence was interrupted by another sob as everything started to sink in. The sense of betrayal, and devastation were overwhelming. She fell to her knees next to Spider again, this time making no effort to stifle the loud, body-shaking sobs. She was too hurt to care.

Behind her, Jake watched in silence, his own eyes moist. He wanted to say something, but he knew nothing could make things better this time.

(…)

Quaritch tried to adjust the position he was in, growling quietly as every injury on his body seemed to flare up in pain with the effort. But the binds were strong, and he was kept in the same upright position against the post, hands and legs tied together so tight they almost cut off circulation.

Finally, he gave up, taking a few deep breathes as the razor-sharp pain he was feeling slowly faded into a constant, painful throbbing.

It hurt like hell, but it was nothing compared to the other pain he was feeling. The one that had started the moment an arrow 7 feet long hit his son right in front of him. The sight had hurt him so much, he might as well have been hit by the arrow himself, directly in his heart.

When it happened, he’d been angry. He’d been shocked. But, more than anything else, Quaritch had been afraid.

It was a new feeling for him. Quaritch had dealt with injuries before. He’d been injured himself countless times during his years of being a soldier, and he couldn’t even imagine the number of people he’d seen take all manner of hits. But nothing compared to the way he felt when he saw Spider hit. The sight of his son’s bloodcovering his hands had made Quaritch feel sick. In a way nothing else ever had.

For that moment, nothing else had mattered. The moment he was sure Sully was trying to help Spider, Quaritch hadn’t hesitated to turn his full attention to his son. He had completely let his guard down. Any notion of trying to fight, or of trying to hide how much he cared had gone out the window.  

It hadn’t been until he’d handed Spider off to the natives’ healer that the events of the night had actually started to sink in.

Sully knew.

Not only had Sully caught him with Spider, but his enemy had seen the way he reacted when Spider was hurt.

And, for some reason, he was still alive.

Once Spider was out of his hands, and he’d been dragged off, surrounded by warriors, Quaritch had started making peace with the fact that he was about to die. But Sully had kept him alive. Was the man really that committed to going through with his so-called “trial”?

Quaritch scoffed quietly, and started to take in his surroundings, clearer now that it was morning. He was out in the open now, tied tightly to a post. There was no chance of escape this time. He couldn’t even move his hands.

At least I have fresh air. He thought bitterly.

As he scanned his surroundings, his mind went back to Spider. The last time he’d seen his son, he’d still been unconscious. Pale and weak. Quaritch was by no means an expert in treating injuries, but he knew his son had come very close to death.

Was he still unconscious? Was he okay?

Was Spider calling for him right now? The way he had when Sully had dragged him away?

The thought renewed the tight feeling in Quaritch’s chest. Now more than ever, he wanted to be by his son’s side. But he couldn’t.

He’d probably never see Spider again.

For now, all he could do was hope Spider could pull through, and that Sully wouldn’t react to badly to everything.

The recom tried to relax in his binds, letting his exhaustion overcome him. As he fell asleep, he thought of Spider. He tried to think of their time together, before the battle, but the image of Spider being carried away, pale and unconscious was frozen in his mind.

If only he could talk to Spider and know he’s alright. See him alive and well. Just one more time.  

Will Jake ever truly come to his senses?

Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation, @onlyreadz @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @buzzing-honeybee, @babyymeme

[aislingsurrow]

Aisling Surrow, Seer and Spellworker

Always looking for roleplay and friends! Please, message me!

As the Warrior of Light

From the great island of Vylbrand, Aisling was born on the day that would become the Calamity. That day left Eorzea, Limsa Lominsa, her home of Aleport, the Source, and her own soul irrevocably changed.

Aisling always had feelings and dreams, fluttering certainty. After the Calamity, those vague shapes and ideas solidified into vivid visions- dreadful knowledge- and sights of times and places she should've been unable to see. Her visions predicted a catastrophe in Aleport- though she only realized it after the fact. Seeing her failure- and her own potential- she set out for Limsa Lominsa, for the Arcanists’ Guild. She sought to learn more about her ever-present ability- and to make use of it to help and protect.

And I think you know the rest...

As a Roleplay Character

Aisling is an innkeeper's daughter- living in Aleport with her mother and father, Cecelia and Edvard Surrow. Plagued with feelings, dreams, and visions, she has been studying to try to control and understand them. Arcanism from the Arcanists’ Guild in Limsa Lominsa, as well as (secretly) Astromancy from an expatriate of the Sharlayn colony on Eorzea.

Thanks to her family's inn (The Sleepy Surrow Burrow, the best place to rest your head and heart in Aleport!) Aisling is able to travel across Eorzea, the world, and help do business for her family. She connects with vendors and merchants, scholars and priests, warriors and more. You'd be surprised who shows up at the Burrow.

Hooks

Do you want to play with Aisling? Here are some ways they might connect-

Are you a traveler? Have you stopped in Aleport? Perhaps you spent the night at the Sleepy Surrow Burrow and met the strange, dreamy daughter of the proprietors...

Arr, mateys! Aisling's father was a member of the Kraken's Arms, and only finally settled into an innkeeper's life when Admiral Merlwyb outlawed piracy. Are you a pirate? Tied to Limsa Lominsa? You may know Edvard Surrow and his daughter...

Potent magics circle around Aisling. Her visions grow increasingly vivid and clear with every day, especially as she connects more strongly to the stars above. Are you a magic worker? Do you seek the strange and unusual? You may come across a Lalafell woman who has been touched by fate...

About The Roleplayer

Age: 30 From: The US Timezone: EST Looking for: Friends and fun, chill vibes, ease, creativity and eagerness, roleplay both in-game and out of game

Some Notes

Aisling is (at least) 26 years old, and therefore an adult. I won't post any NSFW pictures, but please be aware I will be making references to Aisling being an adult woman who fucks.

I'm aware there can be contention around how to treat Lalafell in roleplay, and that makes me quite sad! So I won't go near it. If you are unable to engage with a Lalafell character as an adult person, we won't be good roleplay partners.

Link to the Basics of Aisling Surrow!

[shallowseeker]

Eight-letter words

weird Rowena Friday drabble

Featuring a very bored Rowena, a Sam who is bad at games, an overly curious Jack, and an annoyed Dean. (And Cas, who doesn’t get words wrong.)

///

"You said you were working on a crossword puzzle, but that's not a crossword puzzle," Jack murmurs, peering over Rowena's shoulder.

Rowena stops scribbling and blinks tiredly up at Jack's innocent, bright eyes, wishing for all the world she felt even half as spry.

To tell the truth, she'd put the crossword puzzle away ages ago.

Rowena adores even the crustiest of old books, and the intricacies of magic still capture her attention as much they did on her very first glimpse of the town whore sprinkling an old drunkard's cloak with a glittering, untraceable poison.

But this "research day at the bunker" lulls her into a sleepy haze of nothingness. She becomes a mind-melting puddle of sloth. Bless him, but Sam Winchester's way of doing things tries even her inexhaustible academic appetite.

Speaking of, Sam Winchester is now gazing across from her with his large, sad hazel eyes and a juvenile pout that's rather out-of-place on his aging face.

"I thought you were making good headway with the Reginald Scot papers," he says. His usual clinical timbre borders on a whine.

She drives her pen harder into her pink notepad. "Oh, Samuel. Even an intellectual scholar-witch such as myself needs a moment to unwind."

Jack wrinkles up his nose, and he must be bored too, to be standing to close and taking such an interest in her things. "And you're unwinding by making a...list now? It says: F, M, K? Is that a Magical Grid?"

Rowena snatches her notepad away from the sneaky Naphil, but he paws at her other papers next.

"And you didn't even finish the crossword puzzle. Can I have it?"

She sighs. Crossword puzzles are more demonic that Ouija boards, really. "Have it it, fledgling."

She boops his nose for good measure, and before long, the lull sinks into the room again.

Sam settles into his chair with a squeak, Jack scrawls mindlessly on the crossword puzzle, and Rowena dutifully returns to the rambling literature of one Reginald Scot and his 1584 idiocy concerning The Discoverie of Witchcraft.

Before long, she cautiously slides to her notepad again, and Sam Winchester actually has the nerve to shoot her a dirty look for it. As if she's not doing him a favor by being here for "bunker research day" in the first place.

"Hey, hey Sam," Jack pipes up, so suddenly that it even makes Rowena's muscles jump, "what's a seven-letter word for green?"

Sam's eyes dart up. "Uh, how about, uh...verdant?"

"Oh. That fits! Thanks, Sam."

Sam, funny boy that he is, looks proud for all of three seconds. Then, he's diving back into his dusty old tome. Unseen, Rowena scribbles a heart on her notepad; then, a glittering princess crown.

"Sam."

It's Jack again.

"Yes?"

Sam's patient tone wavers just the tiniest bit.

"What's a seven-letter word for old?"

"Withered."

"That's eight letters."

"How about ancient."

"Oh. Yeah, that's totally it. Thanks, Sam.

"Sam."

Silence.

"Sam. Sam?"

Sam licks his lips, and Rowena imagines an hourglass running rapidly out of its sand. "Yes?"

"What's a fifteen-letter word for prediction?"

That brings Sam up short. His forehead wrinkles. "Uh, Jack, I'm a little busy with this right now."

Rowena leaps at the opportunity for a good needling, "Oh, he's just saying that because he doesn't know, Jack."

Ah.

There go his shoulders, creeping up towards his ears.

Delicious reaction, really. If Sam were a cat, he'd be all bushy by now.

"That's not why."

"Oh, ok," she singsongs, "Then answer the wee bird. What's a fifteen-letter word for prediction?"

Sam glares at the table, not willing to admit to anything. So cute. "Uh, Jack? Why don't you go ask Dean. Or Cas? They might like to play with you."

Jack looks nonplussed for some reason. "They went to the kitchen ages ago."

"Well. You could go to the kitchen and ask them?"

"I don't want to."

"Because?"

Jack huffs. "Because they always solve it too fast. You're much funner to play with because you don't get them right away."

Sam looks offended, and Rowena has to stuff her fist into her mouth to keep from laughing.

Oh, but Sam likes being the big-brained boy of the bunch, doesn't he?

Sam says his next bit too casually: "Dean's not that good at that kinda stuff."

Jack gives him a dubious look, like Sam's either stupid or lying.

"But anyway," Sam rushes out, perhaps dismaying at the obvious tenor of jealousy threading itself through his tone. "Just tell them to let you guess for a bit. Only ask them when you get stuck."

"They won't."

"They will if you tell them. Come on, they let you win all the time at tic-tac-toe."

Jack purses his lips, and it's so adorable how he draws himself up taller. "Actually, I'm good at tic-tac-toe, Sam," he explains, obviously none-the-wiser to reality. "But they're weird about word games. Haven't you played online Scrabble with them?"

Sam doesn't really like the phone games. Even Rowena knows that. She's played online Scrabble, Words, and Jeopardy with Dean, Mary, Cas, and Jack, but never with Sam. It occurs to her for the first time that maybe he doesn't like the games because he can't worm his way into insta-victory, like he can with supernatural and legal topics.

"Well, go get them anyway. Okay?" he says, sounding exhausted in a way that deflates Jack on the spot.

"Okay."

Mercifully, Jack leaves. Even for Rowena, the silence is welcome. Jack is adorable, sure, but his crossword pestering was getting to her, too. Just a bit.

She goes back to her Magical Grid, as Jack had called it.

She starts doodling genitals next.

Just because.

Eventually, Jack trudges in looking dejected. And lo and behold, the crossword puzzle is complete. He lays it on the table and solemnly pushes it towards Rowena. It's all filled out in Dean's handwriting, and Rowena snorts.

"Too fast?" she chirps.

"They get...excited." Jack sighs.

Poor dear.

"Anyway, what about your Magical Grid?"

Oh, no. Jack's already leaning over by the time Rowena realizes her doodles may be a wee inappropriate for his eyes.

Oh, well.

He hyper-focuses on the doodles this time. "Are those...hearts, jewels, and...penises?"

Dean overhears only the last word as he marches in wearing his little waist apron, and the withering stare he shoots Rowena is the exact one fashionable witches used to give her when she had wanted to join their much-more-popular covens.

Rowena matches it with a cheesy, over-the-top grin. "'Lo there, Dean."

Then, Jack tries to get her attention again. "I thought you were working on something important. I thought you were doing magic."

Rowena giggles, purposefully avoiding Sam's disappointed stare. "This is important. I'm making a special list."

"F, M, K? Is that the start of some kind of cipher? Are these hieroglyphs?"

Rowena just cackles and taps Jack's warm, little cheek. "No."

Sam's cottoned on: "Rowena." And he's massaging his temples like she's clonked him clean over the head with something heavy.

"I can't decide, Samuel. Who goes where on my list, between you, Dean, and Castiel. I change my mind every day, but today I'm finding the decision very difficult indeed."

"You're rating them?" Jack whispers, eyes roving over her strange doodles, and then to the names Sam, Dean, Cas up in the corner. "Am I on the list?"

Sam makes a grotesque, strangled noise.

"No, dear." Then, just to tease Sam, "but maybe when you're older and become a big, strong angel you can be on the list."

"Oh, gross," Sam mumbles, and that clues Dean into something.

"What do you mean by list?" he demands, twisting a fist in the pocket of his cooking apron. "Izzat a ranking grid? Like a kill-list? What?"

"Not a kill list. Well, one of you. Not all of you."

When Sam groans again, Rowena decides to just be out with it.

"This is my lit’l FMK list. Fuck, marry, kill. I'm trying to decide which of you I'd do what to on this particularly day, if pressed."

Jack's eyes go wide. "Oh."

Dean doesn't look much better, except that she can tell he wants to know, despite himself. Curiosity killed the cat, after all, and Dean is one curious cat. He covers his interest by scowling and crossing his arms, "Ha. We don't even care."

"Don't you?" she trills, and Sam shifts uncomfortably in his seat, too. Even he wants to know. Blasted, competitive Winchesters.

"Ideally," she whispers to Jack, like this is some great wisdom she's imparting, "you'll want to meet someone you've tried to kill and failed, and someone you want to fuck and marry. It's a holy trinity, see."

He nods, like he understands. (He doesn't.) "Uh, right."

"But it changes day to day, alas. For example, today I can't decide if I'd rather sleep with poor Samuel or marry him."

Jack nods. "Right. The waitress on our last case said, 'sometimes, you just have the sex.'"

"Smart boy."

Dean's face-palming back there. Pot-kettle. He spews more filth on a minute-by-minute basis than Rowena could ever dream of, then acts all shocked whenever she has something playfully naughty to say.

"Of course... Every day, without fail, I choose to kill Dean."

Castiel, of course, has chosen this moment to enter the room, and he looks appropriately alarmed at the mention of killing Dean.

Dean just looks offended.

It's glorious.

"Hey! I'm a great lay!" he shouts, turning the prettiest shade of pink.

This, if anything, makes Castiel look even more alarmed. "Is this for another crossword puzzle?" he ventures, tracking his eyes around the room, like he's deathly afraid of the answer.

Jack is chipper: "No, it's for Rowena's fuck, marry, kill list."

Cas raises an eyebrow. "Her what?"

Jack chatters on: "It's a list she makes every day. One of you she'd marry, one of you she'd have sex with, and one of you she'd kill. Though it looks like she'd kill Dean. Every day, she says."

Now, Castiel looks offended for Dean, and Rowena can't resist pushing the game a little further.

"Of the remaining two of you, Castiel, I'm not sure who is going to win. You or Sam?"

"What exactly entails 'winning' in this instance?" Cas grouses, and Rowena ignores him--starts talking over him to get to the good part. She just thought it up, after all.

“I’m so glad you both agreed to play!”

She rips off two clean sheets from the back of her notepad, and then she fumbles around the table for two number twelve pencils. With Jack as assistant, the paper and pencils get thrust towards Sam and Cas, respectively.

"Get ready!" Rowena shouts, trying to get them nervous for the build-up. "On your marks, get set--"

"Wait. What are we doing?" Sam gushes out, getting more nervous than Rowena could have ever hoped.

"Why, you're writing down the words that first come to mind, of course."

Cas's expression flattens. "We are?"

"That's the game, Castiel."

Rowena hears Dean say lowly, "Just play her stupid game, aight?"

"What's an eight-letter word for sexy? Go!"

Sam's so caught off-guard, he sputters.

"Come on, Sam. You can win!" Jack cheers, and Dean looks comically insulted.

"Hey, you're cheering against Cas? He just helped you solve your whole crossword puzzle back there."

"Cas is too good at crosswords," Jack quips back. "It's only fair."

And oh, Sam's still stuttering, how adorable! But Castiel is...scribbling. Hmm. Dean's velcro'ed to his side, but from what she can tell, they aren't cheating.

Sam stares in wide-eyed horror at his blank paper. Rowena surmises he was more of a "study guide guy" than a "scholars' bowl guy."

"Uhm, uh. Sexy, let's see. Sexy. Seductive?"

"Write it down, Samuel. It's not a verbal exam."

Dean snorts.

Sam growls, "Shut up, Dean."

Jack stage-whispers: "Sam. Seductive has nine letters, not eight."

Sam reddens and grits his teeth. "Thanks, Jack. Uh. How about? Uh," he counts out some letters on his fingers, whispering. "T-e-m-p-t-i-n-g. That's eight."

"Bzzt. Time's up. Pencils down, please. Did everyone get a word written down?"

"Rowena! That was, like, ten seconds."

Ah, that lovely whine again.

"That's the point, Samuel."

Cas, ever the literal one, just drops his pencil on the ground. Dean rolls his eyes, before trying to peer over his shoulder with what might be a little too much interest.

"Well, Samuel? Let's have your eight-letter word for sexy, mm?"

"Uh," Sam clears his throat. "Tempting. T-E-M-P-T-I-N-G."

Bless him, he sounds like he stepped out of the National Spelling Bee. She barely restrains from teasing him over it.

Jack claps, and even to Rowena it feels a wee bit sarcastic.

It's so fun.

“Very good, Samuel. Very good. Tempting. Noted. Fabulous choice."

She traces the outline of one of her doodled hearts. Hmmm. Her eyes snap to Cas, but he doesn't flinch. "And your word?"

Cas glances apologetically at Sam.

"Uh, alluring," he grumbles.

Rowena's eyebrows raise, and she chortles. That's a good choice, too. Rowena had honestly expected a bit of rude commentary or at least a few cheeky pop-culture references from The Dean Winchester. Disappointingly, he's as still as a statue, staring hard at the side of Castiel's face.

And then Castiel keeps going, voice entirely too dry for the kind of list he's calling out: "Sensual. Luscious. Arousing. Stunning. And lastly," he pauses. "Beddable."

Rowena traces the outline of the penis on her notepad. "Beddable," she repeats heartily, giggling.

Sam's just grimacing, "Beddable? Really?"

Honestly, she'd been expecting some encore laughter. Dean's definitely letting her down.

"Beddable!" She calls pointedly.

No luck.

"Is beddable the same as sexy?" Jack murmurs, too curious for his own good.

Cas tracks his eyes over to Dean, but for only a moment. "I have more words, but I assumed you wanted modern English vernacular."

"Wow," Sam coughs. "That's. Yuck. You've been hanging out with Dean too much."

Dean comes alive again, and his body convulses, like Sam's sent him into some kind of awkward seizure. "What? I--me? I'm not hanging. You're hanging."

Sam frowns. "What?"

Dean coughs. "What?"

Castiel valiantly swoops in for a save: "Dean's television and internet viewing habits have more bearing on my slang than my extensive vocabulary," he explains.

Bless him.

It doesn’t erase the awkwardness.

Jack leans forward. "So. Who won?"

Rowena doesn't miss a beat. "Samuel."

Sam looks arrogantly pleased, and for a moment, Rowena wants to announce that no, she's changed her mind. Today she's decided, for the very first time, to put Sam on her kill list.

Then he smiles a little.

Bullocks.

She can't do it.

"Yes," she announces. "Samuel, trusted friend and fellow academic, gets to marry me today. It's an astonishingly high honor if I do say so myself." She winks at Jack. "It's good to marry your friend, you see. It makes for many a wonderful late-night conversation."

Dean's ears go very red, and it distracts her for a moment.

Jack smiles. "I'm sure anyone would love to marry you."

Aw.

"Why, thank you, Jack. And dearest Castiel, you get to be my one-night stand tonight. Congratulations. Really, you're both winners when you think about it."

"He can’t tonight. Tonight's movie night," Jack supplies unhelpfully.

Rowena steamrolls past that.

"Your word list was incredibly..." Here, she rolls her words on her deepest, throatiest purr, "stirring, despite the dry delivery. Then again, that's the whole appeal of trying to...completely unhinge a stoic partner...isn't it?"

Rowena tries to snatch Castiel's gaze, but he looks quickly away, clearing his throat.

Ah, it's so delicious to embarrass Castiel. She throws her best bedroom eyes at him, just for good measure, and there. Ah. He's looking down and fiddling with his little blue tie.

So precious.

But Castiel jumps a bit when he gets a full blast of Dean's mean side-eye.

They look at each other for a bit, and Rowena doesn't know quite make to make of the myriad of tiny micro-expressions she finds there. Overall, Cas looks sheepish and Dean looks annoyed. Maybe. She makes a mental note to tease Castiel more often, just to pick and parse whatever thing Dean's got going on about it.

"Hey, stirring is also an eight-letter word."

Sam, still self-satisfied, returns to his book. "Yes, Jack. Yes, it is."

Rowena supposes Sam's ignoring everything outside of his own wordsmithing victory.

And that's probably for the best.

He didn't even really win, when it comes to the raw total of many words he'd come up with.

Rowena said he'd won, and he'd taken that completely at face-value.

Bless him.

[starseedfxofficial]

The Secret Weapon: On Balance Volume for CHFJPY Unveiled When it comes to Forex trading, sometimes it feels like we're playing hide-and-seek with profits. You know, the type of game where the market hides the profits in places you didn't even think to look—kind of like when you accidentally leave your keys in the fridge (again). But today, let me introduce you to one of those "secret weapons" that the big players use to make the most out of the CHFJPY pair: On Balance Volume (OBV). Now, you might be wondering, "What on earth is On Balance Volume, and how does it relate to CHFJPY?" Good question! This article will guide you through the nuances of using OBV for CHFJPY, uncovering the underground trends, secret strategies, and some ninja tactics that are going to make your trading plan feel more like a strategic masterpiece and less like a bad game of guesswork. Why Most Traders Get It Wrong (And How You Can Avoid It) Most traders fail at using indicators like OBV because, well, they use it wrong—a lot like trying to use a pizza cutter to slice bread. OBV isn’t just about spotting volume; it’s about interpreting volume’s mood. Is the volume feeling bullish today? Or is it sulking bearishly in the corner? Understanding OBV is like reading the diary of CHFJPY's market sentiment—it tells you when the market is just bluffing and when it means business. On Balance Volume (OBV) and the CHFJPY Pair: OBV works wonders when trading CHFJPY, a currency pair that's notorious for being as unpredictable as that friend who decides to go skydiving after one motivational YouTube video. By combining volume and price data, OBV tells you when volume is supporting a price move. The secret lies in finding those moments when OBV diverges from price—giving you a behind-the-scenes look at where the big money might actually be going. The Hidden Formula Only Experts Use Experts love to keep things hush-hush, but here’s the inside scoop: when the price of CHFJPY is moving up while OBV is moving down, the party may be over sooner than you think. This divergence is a subtle signal that the trend is losing steam. If you’ve ever had that gut feeling that something’s not quite right—like the time you found a $20 bill in your pocket but then remembered it was laundry day—that’s what OBV divergence feels like to an expert trader. A practical way to use this is to compare OBV to your favorite moving average indicator. If CHFJPY’s price crosses above your moving average but OBV shows declining volume, it’s time to be cautious. It’s like watching a bad sitcom where you know the main character is about to make a horrible mistake, and all you can do is cringe. Underground Trends: CHFJPY and the Magic of Volume Spikes Have you ever noticed those random, massive spikes in volume while CHFJPY seems to barely move? These are what I like to call the "magic moments" for smart traders—the equivalent of having inside information that the market is about to shake things up. When volume spikes but price movement is sleepy, it’s a clear indication that market sentiment is preparing for a big change. Use OBV to gauge these volume changes ahead of time. A pro tip is to always keep an eye on OBV’s direction during major economic announcements involving CHF or JPY—such as interest rate decisions or trade balance data. The OBV reading in these moments is like your friend tipping you off before someone yells "surprise!" in a totally unexpected party. Predicting Market Moves with Precision: OBV in Action Using OBV, there are some stellar opportunities to execute well-timed entries and exits. Here’s a simple strategy that involves OBV for CHFJPY: - Identify Divergences: Monitor OBV alongside price action. If OBV and price diverge (e.g., price rises while OBV drops), expect a reversal. - Breakout Confirmation: If CHFJPY is consolidating, and price is nearing a resistance level, OBV can tell you if the breakout is legit. Rising OBV confirms strong interest and increasing buying pressure. - Volume Spikes with No Price Action: This often signals that big players are positioning themselves before a move, and it’s often a golden opportunity to prepare your orders. Remember, OBV is like a lie detector for price movement. It doesn’t just take what the market says at face value; it questions everything and looks deeper. The Forgotten Strategy That Outsmarted the Pros Here’s an unconventional approach that not many traders think about: combining OBV with a volatility indicator, like the Bollinger Bands, for the CHFJPY pair. By doing this, you can get a better sense of not just if volume supports price action, but how much price might move. It’s like pairing the perfect wine with cheese—suddenly, everything just makes sense. Say CHFJPY touches the upper Bollinger Band while OBV is skyrocketing—this often signals a continuation of a strong trend. However, if OBV flattens out, expect some pullback. The key here is precision, and while everyone else is playing checkers, you’ll be playing 3D chess. The One Simple Trick That Can Change Your Trading Mindset Sometimes the hardest part about trading isn’t even the technical side. It’s having the patience to watch and wait—a bit like waiting in line for concert tickets only to realize halfway that you should've gotten there earlier. With OBV, patience is key. The beauty of using OBV for CHFJPY is that it teaches you to wait for the right volume-backed move. This kind of discipline can change your mindset entirely, helping you trade smarter, not harder. Don’t chase every spike or dip—instead, focus on those moments when price and OBV agree. When volume tells you there’s real interest backing the move, that’s when you take action. This patience can mean the difference between following a false breakout and catching the true trend, and your bank account will thank you later. How To Use OBV Like a Pro for CHFJPY The On Balance Volume indicator isn’t just for fancy-looking charts—it’s your magnifying glass for the CHFJPY market. It tells you when volume is real, when price is likely to move, and when it’s time to pull the plug on a bad idea before you lose your shirt (and maybe those shoes you bought on sale that you’ll never wear). Here’s a quick recap: - Divergences: OBV going one way while price goes the other means trouble—pay attention! - Volume Spikes Without Price Action: A signal that smart money is setting up for the next big move. - Combining OBV with Bollinger Bands: Adds context to price action and helps you gauge the strength of a move. - Be Patient: Don’t chase every move; let OBV confirm the volume story before you act. Trading is a game of patience, insights, and timing. By using OBV, you’re not just guessing; you’re making educated decisions based on what the volume—the true pulse of the market—is telling you. Want more game-changing tactics? Check out our community and join the ranks of traders who are in the know. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated   Read the full article