#i was close to throwing up and i felt sick and bitter.

[moonbaby26]

Title: Blood and Feathers

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Pairing: Rosinante/Corazon x Fem!Reader x Doflamingo

Warnings: language, non con, dub con, size difference, reader is cheated on (not by the brothers), reader is stalked/abducted, reader is double teamed, vaginal sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, animal instincts/behaviors, blood, violence, toxic relationships, breeding kink

Synopsis: Set in a modern!AU. You are an avian veterinarian dealing with a recent life upheaval. Years ago, you also had a traumatic experience with creatures mainstream science still denies as even existing. But memories of that night were soon buried, relegated to your dreams alone. Or so you had thought.

A/N: This oneshot was inspired both by @tuquidflamingo‘s gorgeous Harpy!Doffy fanart for Doffytober2024 Day 24:Mythical Here, and @froggiewrites’s terrifyingly sexy Siren!Doffy fic Mating Call Here. I needed more bird!Donquixotes after seeing those works and could not restrain myself. This was originally intended as monster/horror themed for Halloween as well, but I’m way late to the party (as usual 😅).

Fic Masterlist

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“You poor darling. The boys haven’t been very nice to you have they?” You frowned to your newest patient. A female dove, slightly fearful in your grip as you held her gently from behind in a small towel within your hand.

The hallmarks of overbreeding were evident to you in all the missing feathers near the back of her head. 

Some single minded Lotharios within her previous enclosure had plucked her practically raw while doing their overeager business on her from behind no doubt.

“Remember. Men are all the same, sweetheart. They only care about one thing.” You mumbled, not particularly worried of how bitter you still sounded while you felt her chest and keel bone next. That bone’s prominence signaling her being rather underweight to your additional concern. 

Not that you’d been eating much either, or maintaining a healthy mindstate at all. Just like hers, your life had also gone quite to shit recently.

Just two days ago you’d come home early, only to find your boyfriend of the last few years balls deep and moaning within the newest assistant from his law office.

And you’d thought he really was going to have a heart attack when he’d finally seen you standing there.

But his new young lover had only smiled, cool as anything.

“Oops.” She’d said, still on top of your fiancé and almost sweetly staring over her shoulder at you.

Her long fingernails had left trails of raised scratches all over his chest and sides. Which you’d seen so distinctly as he’d sat up in a panic to plea to you.

Of course, there would have been no way he could have hidden that evidence later even if you hadn’t caught them in the act. 

As you’d dragged suitcases out and begun throwing what you could into them, he’d had the gall to swear to you too that it was both his first and last time with her. 

He’d even tried to blame her, as if he’d had no say in it all.

But you’d just taken your engagement ring off and thrown it so hard it’d ricocheted off of the wall and rolled to God knew where.

To whatever void your trust and self confidence had now plummeted into most likely.

Yet the apartment lease had only been in his name. So in just that single afternoon, you’d gone from daydreams of a winter wedding to officially homeless and with mascara running down both sides of your face. All with strangers staring at you on your march of shame back through the parking garage.

You didn’t even tell anyone afterward. Because you’d had no one close enough to you to tell.

You were living out of a hotel room now. Nowhere to land as of yet as you’d still went to your normal veterinary job uptown during the day. And to this volunteer time at the avian rehab center just outside of the city each night. 

The only consistently listening ears for you now were sick and troubled birds. Either domestic seizures from hoarding and animal cruelty cases like this dove, or sometimes just wild raptors and waterfowl that’d had an acute turn of bad luck.

You’d seen it all at one point or another. But every day was different. And yet only more of the same all at once.

Until tonight, when it absolutely wasn’t.

You were here alone. Staying much later than you normally would, because the company of the birds was still better than hearing your neighbors arguing through those thin hotel walls that were now all you had to go back to.

Besides this dove’s occasional cooing, and your own words of continued self pity, you also had a constant rotation of true crime podcasts, murder mysteries, and tales of the supernatural droning on from your phone still on the counter. 

It was very fitting for a rainy, cold night like this one.

And in a bit of a playful holiday segment in between those longer tales, it was then some of those two sentence horror stories.  

The narrator had just read one of your favorites in their best Vincent Price impersonation. 

“The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. 

There was a knock on the door.”

You smirked of course. Your imagination flooding with all that unnamed man’s possible fates and an idea that he may actually deserve them now, before the lights abruptly went out above you.

Both you and the dove had startled with that plunge into darkness. But under the dim glow of the battery backup lights which came on after, around the fire exit signs, you quickly silenced those additional horror teases from your phone.

“Maybe they missed a power bill again.” You’d told the dove softly as you’d returned her to the temporary holding cages. 

Funding was always tight for a non profit like this. People just weren’t as giving when sick vultures and irritable corvids didn’t end up as marketable as sad kittens on the donation commercials.

But, this could also be the universe’s sign for you to give in and go home.

Wherever the hell home was supposed to be now.

You’d pulled your exam gloves inside out, trashing them before washing and drying your hands.

A coat, purse, and umbrella were all you had to gather before walking into that now near pitch black hallway.

There was only the slight squeak of your shoes on the linoleum floor for those few precious seconds of normalcy you’d had left. 

And then came the first metal bang.

Like a knock.

And the next one which followed it. 

Echoing through the darkness before you.

Something heavy and urgent was slamming against the metal door which led to the rear parking lot.

The parking lot that backed up to the woods. Where your car and thereby only way back to the city now was.

Even then, the logic in you still refused to fully slip however. Though your heart did beat far faster in your confusion.

You could hear many birds beginning to rustle in their cages in other rooms, bothered by the new noises as well.

You wanted to comfort them, but you knew they wouldn’t understand.

Did you even understand?

You still had your phone of course. You could call the police and just wait here, locked inside if you were actually that afraid.

But outside of the city limits like this, response time would be awful unless you’d be lucky enough that a random patrol car may be nearby.

You didn’t want some judgmental cop showing up thirty minutes from now, to look at you like you were a complete idiot if you said just being in the dark with strange noises was enough to have you needing rescue.

Your hand was already in your purse though, fingers around the beveled case of your phone as everything went silent again.

And then you heard the door pull open.

That door was an exit only. If another volunteer had forgotten something or come back this late for any other reason, they’d have taken the side path up to the front and unlocked the front door instead just as you had a couple of hours ago.

There was no key to the back door. It was always locked on the outside.

Unless the latch had just been broken off.

Which would explain the banging.

Your heart was moving into your throat by then as you’d sidestepped into the nearest room in the dark.

It was this facility’s single operating room.

And by some grace above you didn’t run into anything. You squatted with your back to the wall as you fumbled to pull your phone fully from your purse.

You couldn’t remember if the emergency dispatch in this area was setup to accept text messages like they could in the city.

If you spoke into this silence to call someone, it’d be the equivalent to screaming though.

Your hands were shaking as you typed instead.

And it was additionally cruel really.

Because your mind hadn’t yet overwritten years worth of habit, even as much as he’d hurt you.

You found yourself texting your ex.

<break in. call police. the rehab. help>

Your fingers moved faster than you thought you’d ever commanded them to then. You’d hit send and watched as that message changed to delivered.

And then…

You heard that stupid trill of his phone from the hallway. 

That custom alert you’d heard far too many times to count as his phone had always gone off at all hours from important clients in the duration you’d been together.

Your brain stuttered.

And you heard a female’s laugh.

“Oh, that is embarrassing…” Said the somehow familiar female voice. It was equal parts amusement and mockery now. “She’s still here alright.”

And then a man whose voice you did not recognize, called your name outright before you could think any further. “Please, (Y/N)…there’s no reason to make this harder than it has to be. Please just come out. We’re not going to hurt you.”

But the woman quickly disagreed with him. “No. He said we could do this however we needed to. We’d still be outside in the rain if it was all up to you.”

“Be silent. I’m trying to listen.” The man retorted, yet with his voice lowering to match her own irritation.

“Hmm…no. Not needed. I already smell her.” Came her even sharper response after just another moment. 

And you heard something clicking on the tile at that, faster than you could believe as it ran closer.

“Monet!” The male voice was right behind it though, dropping into a range more akin to a snarl before a shadow came bursting through that open operating room door towards you.

You knew her name.

In the emergency lighting you only had a moment to see a glimpse of her once beautiful face too, contorted into a ferocity more akin to a rabid animal before she lunged down to meet you at your still crouched position. 

Her slender hand had closed around your airway as if it were all second nature.

Fingernails too sharp to be real dug in as she forced your back onto the ground.

You were choking. And staring up into the now wild eyes of your ex-fiancé’s young assistant.

Monet.

The girl he’d fucked right in front of you just two days ago.

But then she was gone. Swatted away as if she were nothing in one audible hit.

Your throat was still stinging, scratched but not wholly cut as you tried to sit up in a renewed rush of adrenaline.

“Just take her car and go goddammit! You’re going to tear this place apart if you can’t control yourself! This is exactly why I wanted you to wait outside!” That male voice now had a clear source as well. He stood easily over the both of you. Still with his hand that had struck her splayed out like a claw.

What had to be light blond hair hung messily in his angry eyes as he took your purse and threw it at her.

“Take her car back to her hotel! Keep her phone, and make sure she didn’t call anyone!”

It was like he was scolding a child now, as if she had already been told a thousand times how this all should be.

But she was panting, smiling at him even as she did.

“I just want a taste…for all of our trouble.” She breathed.

And he stepped further between the two of you.

“I said no.”

She hissed through her teeth, but you saw him straighten up in response. His lean body seeming to tighten even more in the dark.

“Go!” And that order was truly a snarl from him that time.

Her eyes widened and she clawed the floor, briefly on all fours before scurrying back up. 

You could not see her feet clearly in the shadows, but you heard them.

That same clicking sound that had come from the hall before she’d run in.

Like talons moving across the ground.

You didn’t realize how much you were still shaking either before that man’s rock solid grip had grabbed you next.

You were pulled up by your arm.

And Monet was already gone with your purse, meaning she had your keys and phone as well.

She’d had your ex’s phone too.

Was he even alive any longer?

A sound of desperation left you as this tall man forced you down the hall and to that exit door they’d first broken in through.

You’d known it all had to be purposeful then. 

When the power had been cut, the two outdoor security cameras would have gone down as well.

No one would ever see him dragging you out of this door and into the rainy night.

They’d likely waste days interviewing people at the hotel instead once Monet returned your car there.

People you’d never even made eye contact with long enough for them to remember your face would just shrug and say they hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

No one would ever find your body.

“Walk.” His voice was still harsh as he’d hurried you outside, across the parking lot, and immediately down a muddied path into the woods.

It wasn’t clear which direction he’d even taken you in after just a few minutes.

In the dark, the trails all looked the same. And you could only watch as his clothes hung on him, dripping in the light rain.

The forest had gone silent save for that rain and the two of you. As all animals often quieted when an apex predator moved through.

He was oddly barefoot too, striding across the wet and fallen leaves. Just in pants and a t-shirt which now stuck across his broad chest.

“You really don’t remember me at all, do you?” He asked suddenly.

And you were still floundering mentally, trying to keep up with his long legs in the darkness.

“My real name is Rosinante.” He said in lack of any answer from you though. “We’ve met before.” And his large hand squeezed your arm tighter. 

He sounded like his frustration was only growing. His next words were especially accusatory. “If I’d had any idea you were still this close to the mountains…why didn’t you leave?”

His grip hurt, and you were stumbling often now, just trying to keep up.

“I don’t…I don’t know what you want.” You stammered, sounding so pathetic that it easily could have been a stranger’s voice in your ears then.

“I didn’t want him to find you!” He shot back. And at last his relentless pace began to slow. “I thought you moved away! Why the hell would you come back here!?”

And only then was something finally beginning to click within your memories. 

Because it was that desperation in his voice. 

Even if that tone was so much deeper now than the boy’s it reminded you of.

“…Cora?” You asked, your eyes wide while you stared up at this frightening man.

But he looked like something had just broken within him as you’d called him that. He’d stopped walking entirely, and you saw the true pain which crossed his face.

A lean, handsome face, with messy blond hair and rainwater dripping down in a way that could have easily been mistaken for tears.

Tears just like the young blond you’d found crying alone in the forest one summer.

The teen who’d said he didn’t know what to do any longer. And that he’d missed his parents so much and he just couldn’t keep pretending.

You’d thought he was a runaway. But he’d seemed so close to your own age, you hadn’t ratted him out to your aunt and cousins you’d been staying with in the mountain cabin that summer.

You’d snuck him food instead, and for those few months that summer break, you had hiked out to visit him every day at your and his secret rendezvous spot.

Eventually he’d said you could call him Corazon, or Cora for short. It meant “heart” in Spanish. The native language from wherever he had really fled from. And a nickname his late mother had given him.

Her little heart.

But he had a big one. Because he was so kind to you. Something you hadn’t been used to. And you’d both loved exploring and talking together for hours on end.

He’d even taught you a special whistle and song he’d said had also come from his mother and original home.

And so often at night you would hear that sound as you’d snuck from your bedroom to see him over and over again.

He’d known you loved birds by then. That you had dreams of going to school to learn more to help as many of them as you could someday.

But when you’d follow that special sound to find him at night, he’d also point right to where any owl or other raptor you’d missed during the day was hiding that he had found. 

Just so that you could see them too.

But near the end of that summer, you’d told him you’d have to be going back to the city soon. School would be starting again. You hadn’t finished high school yet. But you’d definitely come back next summer before going to college. You’d promised him that.

He’d seemed so sad regardless though, and that had hurt you too.

He’d even disappeared for a few days. You had gotten worried.

But on one of those last nights, you’d heard that special sound again.

So of course you had rushed to it.

But Corazon hadn’t been there.

A laugh had come from above you instead in the darkness.

One you could never forget just before you’d thought part of a tree had somehow fallen down on you.

Because your breath had been gone, a heavy weight impacting your chest with a crack of your ribs.

You couldn’t even scream. The splayed claws that had first struck your chest, had then spread for thin legs to straddle you as your back had hit the dirt.

And then it had bitten you.

Straight through your shirt and over the top of your shoulder. 

Your arms had come up uselessly as those fangs had sunken in.

Yet one of your hands had raked against thick, soft feathers, while the other had caught into spiked blond hair.

Utterly nonsensical in those contrasting parts between human and animal as its wings had encircled you.

But the creature had groaned at your every touch. With its long tongue then lapping at your blood running from the flesh it had broken.   

All while bony hips in torn capris pants had begun to move purposefully against your pajamas.

You hadn’t known what to do. 

You’d just remembered feeling warm.

But so afraid.

And confused.

And then a furious screech like no bird you had ever heard, came diving down like retribution from the sky. 

Loud enough that your attacker had had to look upward. His young face framed in your blood within the moonlight while he’d grinned to the heavens.

He’d been terrifying.

He’d also been beautiful.

But the two monsters had collided. Wings had scraped the ground, flapping violently while talons had tangled, striking each other’s bare torsos over and over as they’d rolled away from you.

The sounds had been fully inhuman, hissing and screaming with splatters of their blood then mixing with yours already on the ground.

Yet you’d been frozen amongst that raw violence.

“Go!” The one with the solid black wings had called out hoarsely though. While it’d tried to even briefly pin down the other one that had attacked you. That slightly larger creature whose wings had been both a dark pink and black.

The one that had still had pieces of your skin within his scowling maw.

“Please! Go and never come back!” The finality and heartbreak in that plea from your strange protector had also been seared into your memories that night.

The same voice that was now years older, with eyes that much sadder as Corazon still stared down at you in the present day.

“It is you.” You spoke in quiet shock. “You’re okay.”

“Why would you come back!?” He demanded again though, regardless of your sudden realization. “He saw your face in all those damned pictures Monet brought to him! He’s been trying to get leverage on everyone from the district attorney’s office all year. Information about their spouses, their kids, and…”

He sneered. His teeth had grit together. And you’d never seen that expression on Corazon.

He was so angry with you.

“You were really going to marry that spineless piece of shit from the D.A.’s office!? He sold you out in a heartbeat! Where you worked, where you were staying…everything. Doffy didn’t even have to touch him! He works for him now!”

Doffy.

His brother Doflamingo?

Corazon had told you long before the attack back then that he’d had an older brother.

The one he had really been running from when you’d first met.

But Doflamingo had caught up to you both in the end.

Even if you hadn’t fully understood it then.

Because you hadn’t known what Corazon truly was.

“I did move away, Cora. I got sent to freaking therapy because my family thought I was acting out for attention!” You blurted defensively.

They’d blamed you for sneaking out. Everyone had told you over and over that it’d only been a rabid bobcat, or a coyote, something like that that had gotten a hold of you that night.

The rabies shots that followed had been an awful regimen. But the shouts that you were just a delusional teenager making up stories about boys with bird wings had been even worse.

It’d been like being branded somehow. 

A permanent outcast.

And truly, you had been marked. The bite scars on your shoulder were still why you’d never wear a tank top or a swimsuit in public.

Yes, right after veterinary school you’d settled for the first man who hadn’t utterly despised you. Your standards had been that low.

But he’d still wanted to chase money and status, and to take his law degree back to the most populated part of the region to accomplish that.

So it was either break up or follow him back towards this place you’d once run from.

Yet how could you know any of this would ever actually find you again? That had been years ago.

Why would they even still remember you?

“You really don’t get it. Do you?” Corazon answered to that disbelief still on your face. “I swore to Doffy that if he let you go that night, I’d never run from him again. That I’d submit and serve him just the way he’s always expected the whole world to.” But he made another sound of disgust, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I really am. But I can’t stop him again. There’s nothing else he wants that he doesn’t already have this time.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say I have everything I want.”

Your eyes had still been trained on Corazon, so you didn’t miss the way he immediately bristled at the new voice.

Cora stood at his full height then too, looking up to the branches above with hatred etched on his face.

And the monster laughed in response.

Just like that night as your insides twisted for the sound.

But also like Cora’s voice, that laugh was deeper now too.

Even more menacing.

They had both grown up. 

And now you were all together again.

You moved behind Corazon instinctively as Doflamingo leapt down from the branches overhead.

He landed, letting those massive wings spread as he straightened up.

It was a purposeful display of power and size you were sure while he grinned wide. 

The whites of his fangs reflected the remaining moonlight almost as much as that single glowing red eye of his. The other eye had been scarred, taken from him long ago.

“Do you know how rare it is for me to come play in the mud with the rest of you any longer?” Doflamingo taunted, crouching a little then to better see you around Corazon’s tall frame. 

Yet just like back then, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on that creature either. It was all tan skin, stretched tight over bones and muscle as you could see his every breath. 

He was only in dark pants that looked as if they were once the bottom of an expensive, tailored suit.

The mockery of the perfect male form really. Almost human in his silhouette, save for those grand wings where arms should have been, the tail feathers which ran out from the small of his back, and the thinner, scaled over legs coming from the bottom of his pants cuffs. With splayed feet ending in razor sharp talons which now sank into the wet ground beneath him.

His weight shifted, as if he didn’t much like that feel of the dirt either. “I’d prefer meeting in my penthouse on East 22nd these days.” Doflamingo taunted as proof of that observation. “But…I thought this reunion might get a bit messy. And we did just have new carpets put in.”

“I told you I’d bring her to the lakehouse though just as you’d asked. Why are you out here already!?” Corazon barked abruptly anyway, yet you could hear that edge of renewed fear already beginning in his voice.

Doflamingo’s head tilted slightly, that amusement only growing in response. “Well, I was feeling nostalgic. How long has it been, Rosi? Since you and I really got to catch prey together?”

“We’re not doing anything like that!” Cora growled immediately.

“Feh. Quit pretending, little brother. And quit hiding who you really are.” He scolded Corazon outright that time. “This is what you want too, and we both know it. You wanted it that night as well. I was only trying to show you where to start.”

“You were going to kill her!” Cora breathed out. His hands had tightened into fists.

“Not necessarily,” Doflamingo still corrected, condescending as anything. “Actually, I doubt I would have. Don’t you remember why?” And an even deeper cruelty began to seep out with those words.

Something Corazon apparently understood that you did not.

“Shut up!” 

“Oh, stop it. We were young, yes. But not in nature’s eyes. She wouldn’t have smelled that way if-“

“I said shut up!”

And Doflamingo laughed again. “You should have been guarding her better then. Instead of running away to hide just because she was ready that night. She came right to me after all…”

“Because you tricked her!”

“You taught her our call…why wouldn’t I use it?”

The special sound.

And Doflamingo did it suddenly then.

His expression changed.

You could mimic it, but not the way they did. It came up from deep within their chests. Like a music note in its pleasantness to you.

You’d ran from your bed many a summer night to find Cora making that sound for you deep within the woods.

And you’d never really wondered why no one else in the cabin had seemed to notice or wake like you did.

Like this song was only meant for you.

It made your body feel warm again. It made you want to follow.

“Stop it!” Cora’s anger snapped you from your daze.

And only then did you realize you had begun to walk towards his brother.

Doflamingo frowned as Corazon had pushed you back behind him once more.

“You are the shining beacon of utter futility, Rosinante. As always.” He tutted, pausing only a moment longer as he readjusted his rain dampened feathers with some frustration.

The weather had changed to more of a hanging mist now. And you knew it was still cold out here. But you didn’t feel it much anymore.

You were still trying to process what Doflamingo had tried to say. 

She wouldn’t have smelled that way if-

Had they been fighting over you because…

“Come on, Rosi. I’ve been more than fair here. Stop stalling and change already.” Doflamingo warned a bit more impatiently then, pulling those pink and black wings back closer towards his bare torso.

As if he was just now noticing the cold himself.

“But why does it have to be her!? You could have anyone…just…pick someone else, Doffy!” 

And even as a grown man now, you could still hear so much of that boy within Corazon.

Doflamingo evidently heard it too. “Quit whining!” Was what he snapped back. “I’m tired of seeing you mope around! Gutless and useless…this isn’t solely for me. Over and over you tell me how selfish I am. How cruel I am. And yet I put something desirable out for you, practically force feed it to you, and still you complain!”

“Because she has a right to choose her own mate!”

“What? Like that coward she was already living with? You’d let a rodent like him usurp what’s yours!?”

“She’s NOT property! She…she’s-”

“She’s tired of listening to this drivel.” Doflamingo sneered.

And it was all begun there in an instant.

In one lunge and kick, the elder brother had cast his physical lesser decisively to the side.

Your shield was gone.

And you were slammed against the then splintering bark of a tree as that wet maw opened right against your face.

The pain of the hit had made your body try to gasp. But it was as if Doflamingo had known that was exactly what you would do, with his tongue ready to make that his invitation as he forced his way in.

That tongue was warm and long as his wings closed around you.

You were trapped against the tree.

With the sheer heat of his body making you hypersensitive for every place he now pressed himself against you.

This was real.

This was going to happen this time.

And you tasted something metallic on his tongue aa well. A mix of blood and earthiness, warm and purposeful as his fangs bumped against your own far duller teeth.

He had made sure your mouth stayed open long enough as you felt something heavier than his spit slide into it.

“Swallow.” Doflamingo whispered, with his wet lips then still against yours while you felt that odd mixture hit the back of your throat.

You knew exactly what that was.

And what it meant to accept it.

Corazon called your name from somewhere so close as he’d stood again. But there was nothing else he could do.

You didn’t want Cora to be hurt either though. You didn’t want to ever have to leave him alone with his brother again.

But this was the price of staying.

And you were finally willing to make that deal.

Even if it now pleased the devil himself.

Doflamingo did growl in satisfaction too, his face briefly nuzzling down against yours once you had breathed in again, signaling your throat was clear.

He’d just fed you for the very first time.

A familial intimacy reserved only for those most dear.

“Change and hold her for me, Rosi.” Came the command to his brother which followed.

But you couldn’t look away from him. 

Doflamingo had straightened his back again. That red eye gleaming down at you.

“My little Corazon has missed you for so long…but I think he still needs convincing to let that out. So let’s help him. Together. You do want to help him…don’t you, my sweet?” And Doflamingo’s voice was taking on a bit of that special resonance again.

As he stepped back away from the tree, you did follow without being stopped this time. His soft wings grazed your sides. 

It felt so very good.

You wanted to bury yourself within the affection of those wings and never rise to see the light again.

But Doflamingo lowered them as he led you further.

Enough that you could now fully see Corazon again.

Corazon with that stricken look of devastation, as if he were watching your death in slow motion right before him. With his eyes even damper now than the weather could possibly be blamed for.

That stab of pain within you for your realization of what he was actually enduring carried even through Doflamingo’s spell on you then.

Your lip quivered. “It’s alright, Cora…” You pleaded softly. “Just do as he says…I’m okay.”

And Doflamingo chuckled.

The heartbreak between the two of you only seemed to fuel him further.

“See? She already forgives you. So show her what you really are. Let’s finish this.” Doflamingo ordered his brother even more darkly.

You both understood the threat behind those words if either of you should dare disobey him. 

Cora’s spirit was visibly crumbling.

Which made you feel all the more desperate to touch him, to comfort him.

You had missed him so much too, almost having started to believe that that part of your life really had been some sort of self induced hallucination over the years.

That you hadn’t experienced your very first feelings of romantic love with some blond, teen runaway in the woods one summer.

That you actually were just crazy.

“It’s okay.” You reiterated to him. And Doflamingo allowed you to reach for Cora.

The younger brother did take your outstretched hand for a moment too. He squeezed it tightly in his larger one as his eyes offered you a last look of misery.

But that grip was already changing. 

He had seemingly accepted your choice.

Corazon’s pale skin began to darken along his arms. The shirt he wore which had already been badly torn from Doflamingo’s earlier kick, he now used his other hand to rip off completely.

That fabric was discarded like trash as he then stood before you in only pants, the same as his brother.

And the prior lack of shoes made all the sense in the world as you saw the skin of his feet scaling over and those talons forming against the ground as well.

But the thing that captured your attention the most were the feathers as they began to bud. Piercing through the then fully darkened skin of his arms one by one as cartilage loudly popped and bones shifted.

Corazon’s arms elongated in time with his legs, that wingspan taking shape as he finally let go of your hand to spread those emerging flight feathers before they could touch the ground.

They were all solid black, yet with a rich shine as each moved into its place. His new tail fanned out behind him as well, hanging over the back top of his pants.

He was gorgeous, like a god even. 

But with glowing red eyes, fangs, and all as you noticed the submissive way he still kept his head down regardless once the transformation was complete.

Like his brother too, Corazon’s bare torso which remained, was all sinew and purpose. Every muscle so clearly defined as he breathed in deeply in his anxiety for your judgment.

But he was no monster to you now.

He was a miracle of nature.

“I like the real you.” You told him gently.

And you saw that true surprise flicker through Corazon’s eyes.

Yet Doflamingo’s impatience had to interrupt. 

With his equally long bird’s legs, the remaining distance was crossed in a single stride by him. Doflamingo pushed your smaller body roughly against his younger brother’s.

“Now, is everyone comfortable here?” Doflamingo grinned once more as Corazon caught you instinctively against his wings.

Both of them had to keep their legs bent, squatted really just to keep from towering over you in their true forms.

But neither seemed to mind the inherent size difference either.

By the predatory gleam in Doflamingo’s eye, he surely didn’t.

And before you could fully acclimate, your back was now against Corazon’s abdomen while Doflamingo pinned you from the front.

You were caught between them as wings flared and you heard Cora’s fangs hitting together above your head as he snapped at his brother in reflex, not wanting him this close.

“Hush.” Doflamingo’s lack of any real anger in response this time only highlighted the implied power difference which still remained between them. “I’ll put you back to the ground in an instant if you wish.” He reminded.

Yet it was all overwhelming to you already. Just the combination of their body heats and scents mixing together even before you felt that first movement of Doflamingo’s hips against yours.

“Put those dextrous little fingers to good use, sweet girl.” He ordered then, shifting his hips again to try and rub the waistband of his pants against your hand. “The stronger male always gets first rights of course.”

And you felt Corazon’s body tense with disgust. As if he was going to try and fight for your sake anyway.

Which you still couldn’t allow.

Because you knew he wouldn’t give up until Doflamingo had made him into a bloody pulp.

Corazon still cared for you that much.

Just as you cared for him enough to prevent that fate. 

“It’s alright. I do want this.” You said as loud as the brief rise of your own bravery would allow.

Corazon took a harsh breath.

But Doflamingo just pushed what was now an obvious bulge harder against your hand in response.

“Smart little thing.” He taunted as your fingers first made it to the button of his pants.

It was all you could do to keep your hands from trembling though as you undid that button and lowered the zipper to free what was growing for you beneath.

You didn’t know what to fully expect of course when dealing with someone that was neither fully man or beast.

Yet your intuition told you not to hesitate. That hesitation would only risk his violence returning. Doflamingo wanted you to touch him immediately as your fingers ran down that muscular V shape which dipped from his navel to his pubic region.

He wore no underwear. But there wasn’t any coarse hair there either to protect him. Just the slightest bit of downy underlayer as the pads of your fingertips found and massaged through it.

It was more wispy fluff than actual feather, soft as anything you’d ever felt as he leaned his head back in clear pleasure.

Of course, you couldn’t avoid the thick base which emerged from that softness either.

Further hardening so quickly as it kept rising up once freed.

His long cock bumped against your stomach in no time, thick and twitching once already.

It looked familiar enough, save for the damn size of it that you didn’t know how the hell you wouldn’t be injured by.

“Everything off. Now.” Doflamingo growled abruptly though. Foreplay not seeming to be a priority for him in this moment as you were then ordered to disrobe.

And Corazon had gone silent now. 

You could still feel the tension of Cora against your back before you began to undress.

Your own humiliation certainly didn’t matter to you by this point though. That would be the least of your problems as pieces of your clothing hit the wet ground one after another.

Coat, shoes, shirt, pants, and underwear were all quickly put out of the way. Until it was just you and all that you were in the cold night air.

“Don’t cover her. I want to see it all.” Doflamingo warned his brother immediately though as Corazon’s wings had tried to shift against you. 

And the little bit of room that Doflamingo had allowed you in order to undress was swiftly taken back as he now pressed you skin to skin as soon as he could.

“Yes…this is what we should have done years ago. If my little brother hadn’t been such a prude with a stick up his ass.”

Corazon growled lowly to that. 

But notably, he made no move to stop his brother this time as Doflamingo kept rubbing his cock against your skin. The head of it had begun to weep. Yet Doflamingo’s gaze had now focused onto that prominent scar on your shoulder.

The one his own fangs had previously given you.

“Did Rosi ever tell you that our kind can’t procreate on their own?” Doflamingo questioned teasingly then, seemingly at random as his tongue ran out over that scar, almost with a reverence while he licked your shoulder until it glistened with his saliva. “You see…if you breed two winged parents together, all they’ll have is miscarriages. But one winged parent and a human…”

“Doffy.” Corazon warned with his own wings still staying protectively close. “That doesn’t matter right now. Just don’t hurt her.”

“It’ll matter eventually.” Doflamingo contested with a lustful smirk.

And your knees were feeling weaker as the boys did this routine again. Falling into that lopsided codependency they had for one another, bickering even with you pressed right between them.

It was a toxic bond they shared and were so determined to now add you to.

Just like Doflamingo had first tried to back then.

But even he had gained some maturity in the time between. Evidenced by the way he first teased the head of himself at your already surprisingly wet entrance instead of just plunging straight inside.

Whether that wetness was your body’s attempt at self preservation or your own willful desire, you weren’t yet sure.

But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. That was clear as he finally began to slowly push his way in.

And when you made that first sound of pain, stretching too much almost immediately, Doflamingo actually paused.

The feathers of his wings ruffled. Somehow the brothers were now tolerating each other enough to not react when their wings bumped one another either.

Yet Corazon’s chest hummed against your back as you felt him bend to put his lips against your neck, near your ear in response to your pain.

“Relax…I’m here.” He promised, even then still trying to protect you.

And you exhaled, feeling that inner warmth once more. Corazon was using that special tone again, resonating through you as you rested your head back against him.

Cora was soothing you as his brother began to push again.

Your were fully walled in too. Corazon’s chest to your back, against him with your thighs spread for his brother. And Doflamingo in front, taking that offering, his legs bent enough for your hips to line up as he slid in deeper and deeper.

And both their wings were to your sides. They were holding you up together as Doflamingo at last bottomed out against your cervix.

You felt like he could have split you in two if he had wanted to.

But Cora’s song just continued, calming and satisfying as you stared up at Doflamingo while he let out a surprising whine with you clenched so tightly around his extraordinary cock.

“Oh…oh, fuck she feels so good.” Doflamingo breathed next. “Keep her calm…I have to move. Keep her just like this.” He was still instructing Corazon even as his sharp hips began to slowly, ever so slowly, slide back and then forward again. The skin of his cock was dragging against your insides.

And you shuddered. Everything felt like more than you could possibly take. 

But Doflamingo’s initial whine soon became moans. He was falling apart even faster than you as his wings closed tighter around you and his movements increased.

His feathers kept shifting, his pupil was dilating.

Yet as he almost grimaced in what appeared to be an abrupt brush with overstimulation, you had your very first inkling that they did not get to use these true forms often.

This was a rare intimacy. 

Maybe even completely unique for them.

The opportunity to be with a partner in their actual bodies. With all the heightened senses and raw feelings that must entail.

You were barely even a participant, and yet you were overwhelming Doflamingo as he slouched forward with his hips still pumping.

His chin was resting on one of your shoulders then, while Corazon’s was resting on your other from the opposite direction.

“I can’t even…hell, I can’t…” Doflamingo nearly laughed in disbelief.

And you felt him tremble all over as he thrust briefly harder, much rougher then as you cried out a little. But only for three or four more deep hits before his hips stilled abruptly.

The heat inside was immediate, spilling out into you as Doflamingo held himself in as close to the hilt as he could be.

But he was too big to be flush against you, just doing his best as he buried his face beside yours and you already felt his excess seed running out down your thighs to drip onto the ground.

The forest was so quiet again. Save for Doflamingo’s uneven breaths.

“Dammit…” He cursed quietly, sounding an odd mix of both placated and highly disappointed. “I need to try again. That wasn’t enough.”

But you were still aching, regardless of Doflamingo already softening within you from what he perceived as a premature release.

“No. You already came. It counts.” Corazon’s voice returned then and there however. His wings were trying to push Doflamingo’s further away.

And those wingtips were far more prehensile than a normal bird’s once Cora decided to just pull you away from his brother instead by your waist not long after. 

It made a lewd sound when Doflamingo’s wet cock slid out of you with that sudden increase in distance. Then hanging soft in a mess of both your fluids between his legs.

He glowered at Corazon as your warmth was removed from his body once more. 

And you feared they would now fight again.

Doflamingo did briefly bare his fangs. 

But Cora had turned you to face only him then as he moved his wings to push against the side of his own pants next.

You weren’t even done dripping from his brother yet. But you saw the full desire now in Corazon’s eyes.

He’d had to watch everything. 

And he had needs too.

Ones you were sure he had been too afraid to ever tell you up until tonight.

“Here.” You reached out, helping Cora as you tugged at his pants to slip them the rest of the way off of his hips.

Fair was fair.

What you did for one brother, you knew you had to do for the other.

Even if Doflamingo was now finding the concept of waiting for his second turn much more difficult than he’d originally envisioned. 

Corazon was wearing boxers. Ones that already looked a bit too tight for him just as you felt Doflamingo step back behind you.

Cora clearly bristled, not appreciating that. But you did your best to deescalate them again.

They had their own hierarchy and rules as all flocks did you were sure.

Doflamingo was the leader of them all without question. But his own neediness and vulnerabilities were far more apparent to you now.

It was a bold risk, and you didn’t move too quickly. But you did reach behind you then to massage your hand along Doflamingo’s hip and thigh. Acknowledging him at your back, and rewarding even his few moments of patience with physical touch.

Maybe that affection had surprised him.

He’d stilled again either way, and that was all the time that Corazon had needed to slide his own underwear down enough to uncover himself.

Your face felt flushed at the sight. 

Because Cora was already rock hard. Perhaps not the full length of his brother, but no less intimidating for you.

With Doflamingo still right there however, Cora didn’t hesitate. He wouldn’t lose this opportunity.

You gasped as Corazon pressed himself right into the wetness his brother had already made within you.

Your insides stretched and filled tight as anything all over again as Cora breathed your name and began immediately rocking his hips.

Doflamingo was then growling behind you in jealous response, so your hand had to move back between his legs to stimulate him too. 

You were fondling the older brother’s still softened shaft as he twitched it wantingly in your palm.

While the younger brother quickly fell into a deep rhythm inside of you, pumping your bodies together as nature had always intended.

It didn’t even feel wrong.

Because they both needed you.

And you needed them.

Or you would now.

And as Corazon scraped inside you just right, steady and sure, your orgasm was quickly building even while Doflamingo began to stiffen again within your hand.

You just stroked him harder in rhythm to his brother’s thrusts.

You could see the future already. 

There would be babies.

Multiple babies.

One mother, two different fathers. 

Nature was like that sometimes. Especially with a rare species that needed all the help it could get.

It’d just be easier to share the resources. To have two strong mates protecting you instead of only one.

Doflamingo was already getting ready to cum again too. You could hear it in his panting as he fucked your hand so roughly then.

But it was the combination of Cora’s steady pumping and Doflamingo’s desperate movements that finally sent you over the edge.

You felt your channel spasm around Cora, who repaid that pleasure immediately with a hard shudder as he released his own seed in powerful shots to mix with what you’d already received from his brother.

Corazon did get it all in, just barely though before those pink wings were grabbing you backward abruptly. 

Yet again you were pulled off of a wet cock that had just finished as Doflamingo slid himself right back into your now fully swollen folds from behind.

His wings pushed you, then making you bend forward at the waist so he could fully mount you from behind this time. You didn’t even have the chance to recover from the orgasm you’d just had before Doflamingo was pounding you so hard against your ass.

You were panting too, trembling for the contrast of his soft wings holding you up on the outside while he utterly wrecked you on the inside.

“Come on…I need you to cum on me too…I’m not stopping this until you do.” Doflamingo threatened you. Evidently not at all missing your visible orgasm had with Corazon inside you moments prior.

Yes, everything was always going to be this way too you were sure. Doflamingo would have to have the final word, the final touch. He might share only with his brother. But everything still had to start and end with him.

He was the dominant male of this territory.

“Doflamingo…” You tried his name in some very minor bid for mercy. You couldn’t think straight enough to will another orgasm back out so soon.

But you had to.

You glanced back up towards Corazon, who still seemed a bit dazed from his own release.

But his eyes did meet yours, even as his brother now fucked you raw from only footsteps away.

Yet, it wasn’t the full sadness from earlier in Cora’s stare any longer. You saw real lust for you still so heavy in those red eyes then. That look which said he would also love to do this to you if you’d only ask him for it.

Corazon would do anything you wanted him to going forward.

And that thought was enough to bring the coil of warmth into your stomach again. 

You were going to be fine. You would survive.

You’d never have to sit in a room alone again either and worry about who or what future awaited you on the other side.

Because your monsters were already here. And they had chosen you.

You moaned loudly. Both of these men in your mind, together again while that pleasure sent your body into ecstasy one more time.

You came with that cry for Doflamingo as he orgasmed gladly in return to flood your poor channel yet again with his seed. 

Your abused cunt was dripping and your body shaking before Doflamingo pulled you fully back against his chest, wrapping his warm wings around you protectively.

His voice was a bit uneven, matching his rough breathing now. “Let’s go home then. All three of us. Tonight and forever.”

And Corazon smiled slightly at last to that rare sentiment. A remarkable expression in its own right. 

Because maybe Cora was finally realizing as you had that the worst was not truly the worst.

Doflamingo wasn’t going to let anything happen to you now.

This deal had been made and the ink was already dry.

Cora used his feathers to awkwardly pull up his underwear and pants before he idly began collecting your clothing for you soon after.

“You’re going to need bigger beds then, Doffy. Both at the lakehouse and the penthouse.” Corazon said quietly as he looked back to the two of you who were still recovering.

Doflamingo smirked, not disagreeing this time. “That’d be much easier than arguing whose bed she’ll get in each night, wouldn’t it?”

You’d lay with them both of course.

But Doflamingo nipped your ear for good measure too as his feathers rubbed more possessively across your abdomen.

“Yes. We’ll have quite a nest going on soon enough.” He grinned wide in anticipation of this truth. “Little ones never like to sleep alone either after all.”

——————————

End.

Thank you for reading! ❤️🎃

A/N: The two sentence horror story quoted in the beginning is “Knock” by Fredric Brown.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Can you do a Natasha x fem Reader based off wildest dreams by Taylor Swift? The idea I had was something like R and Nat having feelings for each other and then end up kissing or something a one of Tony’s (Tony is R’s dad) parties. They end up have a secret relationship because R is scared to come out to the team and especially her dad. But they end getting caught by Thor who accidentally tells Tony and the team at a dinner or something. But there’s a happy ending

Note: I do apologize but I kind of changed the ending on this but I do hope you enjoy it.

Warning: secret relationship, reader is closeted for the beginning, kissing, angst with a happy ending, drinking, self-doubt, miscommunication

Relationships: Natasha x Stark!Reader, Tony x Pepper x Reader (platonic)

If there was one thing about your father, he could throw a party, and most of the time, you had no idea why a party was happening. You knew the team returned from a mission. They saved the day, were the heroes, and now they were drinking and partying. All expect Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow was nursing a Long Island iced tea outside the party. She was wearing a black mesh jumpsuit. The top was sequined with a deep v-neckline and long sleeves. It was a showstopper. Every head seemed to turn towards her but ignored every advantage, man or woman.

You sighed, stood up from your spot at the bar, and pushed your way through the party to the outdoor balcony. You felt her eyes on you as the door closed behind you, and the sounds of the party became muffled. She would come; you just had to wait. So you walked to the patio set in the corner and sat down.

The cool summer air caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You enjoyed the cooler weather, and the sun blasted the city during the day. It recorded high temperatures this year. “You are going to get sick wearing just that,” you knew she was smirking without looking. You were more focused on the city skyline.

“Come keep me warm then,” this time, you looked at the Russian as she walked over to you. She sat down next to you, her thigh barely touching yours, but you felt the warmth she gave off. This was the nature of your relationship with Natasha. Constantly flirting, teasing touches, and longing looks at one another. That was it. It was as if you were both too scared to take that final step. “Are you not enjoying the party?” You turned to face her. Your arm bent on the back of the couch, and you rested your head in your hand. “The talk of the town is that you’re a hero.” You were caught off guard by the bitter laugh that escaped from her, and she sipped on her drink. You frowned.

“I’m not a hero.”

“I think you are,” she said, placing her hand on your thigh. You were wearing a skirt, so you enjoyed the feeling of her hand on your skin.

“You look good,” she said, changing the direction of the conversation. Did you wear this for me?” You rolled your eyes but placed your free hand on top of hers.

“No,” you deadpanned. “I don’t want to inflate your ego, Romanoff.” She smiled and moved closer to you. You thought she was going to kiss you. Instead, she rested her head in space between your neck and shoulder. “Nat,” your voice shook. “What are you doing?” She hummed, and the vibration caused a shiver to travel down your spine.

“I was thinking about kissing you,” she pulled away, and you felt the warmth of her breath on your lips. “What do you say to that, pretty girl?”

“I’d say, what are you waiting for?” Her lips were softer than you expected. Her hand moved to your cheek, keeping you close as the kiss depended on it. She ended it. Her lips were red, and her cheeks were rosy.

“Let’s get out of here,” she whispered. “Drive out of the city, away from the crowds.” You have never moved so fast in your life.

Now, your relationship with the Black Widow has changed. The longing looks were still there, but the flirtatious behavior was replaced with stolen kisses when the team wasn’t looking. Too often, Natasha pushed you up against the tower’s walls and kissed you as her life depended on it, always ending before the team caught you. No one knew, especially your father. For six months, Natasha and you kept your relationship a secret. Even when you knew Natasha wanted to show you off at every party, cuddle with you during moving nights, or claim you as hers. It was you. You weren’t out yet to Tony, and the man was trying to set you up with every eligible bachelor in the city. You were so scared he would be disappointed in you. So you hid, and you pretended it wasn’t kissing you.

*

You woke up to an empty bed, and the spot Natasha had slept in the previous night was cold. There was the lingering scent of her perfume on her pillow. You had an apartment a little away from the tower. Tony told you often that you could live in the tower, but you liked the sense of privacy. It was also the perfect place to be with Natasha, away from the team. You could be all over her, which you were last night, and a fight broke out.

You were needy and missed your girlfriend, which caused you to be attached to your girlfriend like a koala. She laughed it off at first, poking fun because she was usually the one that constantly wanted to be close to you. You grumbled something about being unable to hug her all day, which was true. You were both so busy the only time you could touch her was at night or early morning before your busy schedule whisked you away from one another. As the night carried on, you noticed a shift in her mood. With Natasha, it was up in the air on how to deal with it. Sometimes, she was honest and told you the truth. Other times, she bottled everything up and shut down.

You decided on the direct approach and asked what was bothering her. She was quiet for a moment and focused on the Bond movie that was playing. It was her night to pick, so you weren’t surprised when you returned from the bathroom to see it queued up on the TV. ‘Are you ashamed to be with me?’ she asked.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time she’s asked you this question. As soon the question was asked, you knew the direction was headed. Over the past six months, it was the only thing you fought about. Hurtful words were said on both sides. She was tired of being your secret. Even though you fought about it before this time, it felt final. She was almost fed up waiting for you.

You sat in your bed and stared at the clothes she had left in your room. Most of them were folded neatly in the space you made for her in the dresser or hung up in the closet next to yours. These clothes were from two nights ago when you ripped them off your girlfriend. You slumped back in the bed, pulled Natasha’s pillow over your face, and inhaled your scent. You needed to get out of bed, but the weight of the fight and waking up to Natasha being gone was soul-crushing. Sighing, you force yourself out of bed to take a quick shower.

You were part of the lead team of scientists at Stark Industries. A position you had to work your ass to get the position and prove to everyone you were more than qualified. You heard the whispers and saw the dirty looks, that everyone believed you got the job because Tony Stark is your father.

Braiding your hair, you entered your kitchen and found a note on the counter. You recognized the handwriting of your girlfriend. ‘Your breakfast smoothie is already blended, and I peeled some hard-boiled eggs. Maybe we can do lunch if you aren’t busy. Forever and Always.’

It was a saying the two of you said. Instead of ‘I love you’, it was ‘Forever and Always.’ Natasha found it easier to say that than the L-word. You kissed the note and placed it in your pocket. Still, your heart felt heavy.

*

There was no time to see Natasha between meetings, running experiments, and writing reports. You were exhausted and missed your girlfriend. It wasn’t until 3:30 when you saw her. She was in the kitchen, cutting her sandwich into triangles. You always found it funny, but she claimed it tasted better. Your eyes locked onto hers pointed to the side hallway and walked over there. With your back against the wall, you waited. You heard her footsteps as she stood in front of you. “Hi,” she smiled.

“Hi,” you responded and kissed her cheek. But you refused to move away, basking in the warmth she always gave off. You put her arms around her neck and hugged her. Her hands found their natural place on your waist. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry. I’m just so scared.” You felt her nod and gently pulled back so she could face you. Your arms remained tightly around her neck.

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry, too. Forever and always, I promise.”

“Forever and always,” you whispered against her lips. She kissed you softly. In hindsight, getting lost in how Natasha kissed you was a bad idea. You bite her bottom lip, and the gasp she releases lets you deepen the kiss. Her grip on you tightened, and she pushed you back against the wall. You moaned, and it only seemed to spur her on. Kissing Natasha was everything. Every time she kissed you, it took your breath away. Gently morning kisses or rough, passionate kisses against your kitchen counter. You could spend your entire day in her arms and her lips on yours. “Ah, Lady Stark, oh-” you jumped at the sound of the God of Thunder’s voice. His eyes flickered to you and Natasha, whose arms were still around you. “How long has this been going on?”

“6 months,” Natasha answered. You’ve lost your ability to speak. The god smiled.

“Very well. I will find you later,” he winked at you and returned the way he came. Thor knows you thought. Someone on the team caught you. It was only a matter of time before it got back to Tony or Pepper. The Avengers were superheroes, super soldiers, and trained spies, but they were horrible secret-keepers.

“Sweetheart,” you snapped out of your thoughts by Natasha’s voice. “Are you okay?” You nodded, unsure if you were.

“I have to tell Tony and Pepper before it gets back to them through someone else.”

“Do you want me to?”

“No,” you cut her off before she could finish her question. You desperately wanted her to be there but needed to do it alone. You were the reason your relationship was hidden for so long. “Sorry,” you ran your hands over your braid. “I have to do it alone,” you placed her hand over her heart. The steady beat calmed you down. She put her hand over yours and kissed you softly. The kiss was so gentle it felt like a goodbye. You kept your forehead against hers and closed your eyes. There was so much you wanted to say.

What would your last request be? Would you tell her to remember you? She took you to the beach for a date. You stood in a nice dress and stared at the sunset, red lips and rosy cheeks. ‘Remember me there,’ you thought. ‘Say you’ll see me again even if it’s in your wildest dreams.’

“Forever and always,” you said again.

“Forever and always.”

*

You promised Natasha that you would find her as soon as you were done talking with Tony. Luckily, you had some paperwork to give him, so the visit had a more tangible reason to see him. You opened the door to his office as a dart was thrown, and it hit the door frame. “Oops, sorry, kid,” you rolled your eyes and pulled the dart out of the wood.

“For you,” you dropped the pile of folders onto his desk. “We just need you to verify our numbers are correct, and then we can move on to the next phase.” He groaned dramatically and flopped down into his chair.

“You know I promoted Pepper to CEO, so I didn’t have to deal with paperwork.” Your mother was a saint. You chuckled and aimed at the dart board. You threw it and hit the bullseye.

“It’s your project,” you said, walking over to the board and pulling out the darts. We don’t want another Ultron,” you saw him roll his eyes.

“You make one robot that goes rampant, and it’s all everyone talks about,” you laughed and threw another round of darts. “Do you need these back now?” He pointed to the files.

“No,” you sat in the chair and crossed your legs. “Can I not spend time with my sperm donor?” You ducked at the stress ball he threw at you. He hated it when you called him that, but you loved getting a rise out of him. “Actually,” you folded your hands. “Can we talk about something?” He sat up in the chair. It was rare for you to see the man so seriously.

“Are you dying? Pregnant? Did you kill someone?”

“No!” You laughed and scratched the back of your head. “I uh shit,” you weren’t sure why you were so nervous. You knew the man was an ally. Stark Industries was at every event during Pride.

“Angel,” he smiled. “You can tell me anything, and I won’t be upset.” Angel was the name he called you since you were a baby. You were born very premature and got sick so easily that the doctors weren’t sure if you were going to make it. But you recovered.

“I’m gay,” you whispered. “I’ve known for a while,” you said before he could say anything. “I’ve been so scared to tell you.” He stared at you, blinking a few times, but remained silent. “Right, sorry for wasting your time. I’ll go.” You stood up quickly, knocking over the chair. You left it on the ground and stumbled out of the office. You needed to get out. You needed to go.

*

Natasha was getting worried. She thought it was taking a lot longer than she thought it would. She asked the AI where Tony was, and the Black Widow walked into a shit show when she entered his lab. Tony was frantically moving holograms around, but they flashed red, and he would try again. Pepper was no better. Her phone was pushed against her ear, and she was pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. “Are we being attacked?” She asked, making her presence known. Tony glanced at her before focusing back on whatever he was doing.

“I don’t have time for whatever stupid prank Yelena or Peter pulled. Whatever they broke, just order another one,” he began to work again. I have to find her.” He said it mostly to himself. It was a mumbled and throwaway comment, but Natasha heard it. ‘I need to find her,’ Tony said. Natasha grabbed Tony by the shoulder without thinking and threw him into the chair. She steadied him so he wouldn’t fall over.

“What did you say to her?” She asked, crossed her arms, and took a small step back.

“How do you-” he squinted his eyes at her. “Look, I didn’t say anything to her.” He threw his hands to the side. It clicked in Natasha’s head. She knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. You took his silence as rejection. “Now move so I can find our daughter.” But Natasha stayed.

“Where have you looked?”

“FRIDAY can’t find her,” Pepper ended her call and walked over. “I’ve called some of her favorite sports, but no one has seen her.”

“She’s either turned off her phone or blocked me from finding her.” Natasha always believed you were more intelligent than him, but she knew where you would run off.

“I know where she would go,” Natasha turned on her heels to leave.

“Wait,” Tony called out. His frantic voice caused the Black Widow to stop. “Why do you know so much about her?” Right. If you took off, you wouldn’t have told him. Slowly, Natasha faced him.

“I’ve been dating her for six months,” she said. “So I will find her and make sure she’s safe.”

*

You knew your time was up when you heard the quiet chime of the front door. You waited until strong arms circled your waist and pulled you flush to her chest. “Found you, my love,” you smiled and chuckled. Of course, she would be the one to find you. She was the only one who knew about this place. “Tell me about this painting.”

You told her a story that captured the emotion of the painting in front of you. You stood in a small art gallery way past closing hours, but the owner gave you the key. You were an investor here, meeting the owner in Central Park while they were painting. The art gallery was small, and it showcased local and small artists. It was peaceful, and the place gave your mind a break. You kept the gallery a secret, protecting your space from the crazy personalities of the Avengers.

“Is he mad?” You finally asked. Natasha shook her head and kissed your shoulder.

“No, he’s worried he couldn’t find you,” she chuckled softly. “I may have told him we are dating.”

“Oh,” you whispered. You felt oddly okay with him knowing, even if he wasn’t going to accept you as you were. “Where is he?”

“Well, I told him to stay at the tower,” Natasha sighed. “But he’s stubborn, and I caught him and Pepper following me.” You laughed, not surprised that Tony Stark couldn’t follow a car without getting caught. You spun around to face your girlfriend, arms around her neck and hugged her tight.

“Forever and always,” you whispered.

“I love you too.” The three-word statement shocked you and made your stomach flip. Your heart filled with butterflies. You were happy and terrified but mostly happy.

You were startled when you walked out of the gallery, and your dad bulldozed into you. His arms wrapped around you tightly. “I love you,” he said. “I love you and support you even if you have questionable taste in women.” You let out a watery laugh and wiped away your tears.

“Thanks, Stark,” Natasha rolled her eyes with a small smile on her face.

“I will support you. I will always want you to be happy,” Tony continued.

“We love you no matter who you love,” Pepper said, getting out of the car and joining you. “No matter what.” You collapsed into your parents’ arms and cried against them. A weight was lifted off your chest, and you felt free.

*

The next Stark Party, you were sitting on the couch. This time, Natasha’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist and your hand on her thigh. It seemed second nature that the two of you were attached at the hip. No one batted an eye. When looking back at it, you seemed a little silly. But now you were free to live your life to the fullest.

[lewisvinga]

the other woman. | charles leclerc x fem! reader

summary: after his engagement party, y/n realizes that she will always be the other woman..

warnings; mentions of cheating, sex, modern family reference

word count; 1.2 k

note; this song has been stuck in my head

‘born to die’ series masterlist !

f1 masterlist !

Y/n couldn’t believe what she had just read with her own eyes. She reread the invitation again in hopes she had misread it.

You’ve been invited to celebrate the engagement of Charles and Alexandra.

She felt sick to her stomach. She felt like she could just throw up. Lando, a close friend of hers, noticed the look on her face. “What’s wrong? You jealous?” He asks in a teasing tone.

“No!” She exclaims, accidentally saying it in a loud tone. “I-I just don’t feel good.” She lied. She quickly hands him the invite with a smile on her face. “I’m happy for them.”

“‘Bout time Charles proposed to her!” The Brit exclaims with a loud laugh, not noticing how tense she became.

Y/n lets out a laugh at some stupid comment Charles made at the sitcom playing on the TV in front of them. They were both underneath her covers, him in just boxers and her in a plain t-shirt.

After spending hours appreciating each other's bodies and Charles seemingly making love to her, they were still restless. Being restless was just a call to watch sitcoms together.

“C’mon, chérie, you’re telling me that Jay managed to get Gloria?” He asks in a shocked tone, watching a scene of the Modern Family characters.

“C’mon, look at those baby blue eyes!” She exclaims in a teasing tone. He playfully rolls his eyes, pulling her closer. She rested her cheek against his naked chest as a comfortable silence fell upon them while they watched the sitcom.

Y/n opens her mouth to say something when Charles’’ phone began to ring. He checks the caller's I.D. and lets out a quiet string of curses. Alexandra, his girlfriend, was calling. He was quick to get up and get dressed. “I have to go, chérie.” He quietly says.

She sits up in disappointment. A pout adorned her lips as she watched him pull on his pants. “You told me you were going to break up with her last week, Cha.” She mumbles.

“It’s complicated.”

“We’ve been sleeping together for weeks?”

“I’m trying, I promise. It’s just complicated.” Charles lets out a sigh as he pulls his polo over his head. He leans over to press a kiss against Y/n’s forehead. “You’re my girl, you know that. Don’t you?”

She glances up at him with a shy smile and nods. “Yeah, ‘m your girl.” She quietly responds, shifting around on the bed to sit up more comfortably. “Wanna come over this Saturday?”

“Can’t, I have an event with Alexandra and Arthur.” His response made her smile immediately drop and her stomach sink.

“Oh.”

“I’ll see when I’m free, okay?” Charles says with a smile. He leaves one last kiss against her lips before grabbing the rest of his belongings. “See you later, chérie.”

“Bye, Cha.”

“Hello? Earth to Y/n?” Lando exclaims as he waves his hands over her face. She glances up at him, his loud voice pulling her from one of the last memories with Charles. “Whatcha’ thinking about? You zoned out after I asked if you were going.” He asks with a laugh.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy.” Y/n nervously laughs, glancing at the white and gold invitation in her hand. “I mean, Charles is one of my closest friends. It’d be rude not to go. Of course, I’m going.” She responds a bitterness laced in her tone that the Brit fortunately didn’t notice.

“I think a lot of the others will go too! It’ll be so fun! I can’t believe it.” Lando seemed excited to see Charles finally engaged. Very much the opposite to Y/n who kept her eyes to the ground with a feeling of remorse filling her mind.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Y/n didn't know what she was doing as Lando parked his McLaren at the venue for the celebration. She felt sick as she clutched on the black Chanel Kelly bag Charles had gifted her for her birthday. Even the red mid-length Dior gown she wore was gifted by the Monegasque. All of her nice and luxurious things were gifted by him.

The sick feeling became worse as she entered the venue alongside Lando. The venue was decorated in a way that made it seem more heavenly. A large framed picture of Charles and Alexandra stood right at the entrance next to a white floral arch.

"Charles and Alexandra, the newly engaged couple. Cheers to forever!"

Lando read out loud the cursive writing underneath the picture. "Would you look at that!" He laughs, making fun of his fellow driver. He glances back at Y/n, noting her tense posture. "What's been up with you?" He asks, his tone filled with nothing but concern for his close friend. "Is it a boy?"

"It's complicated," Y/n replies, ignoring his confused stare as she makes her way past the picture. "Let's just greet Charles and Alex and then find seats."

They walked further into the venue where a couple of long decorated dining tables sat. There was a large space in the middle where Charles and Alexandra stood as guests greeted and congratulated them. Y/n visibly gulps as Lando dragged her over to the couple.

"Charles!" Lando loudly exclaims, causing the Ferrari driver to turn around with a wide smile. "Congratulations!" He continues, happily wrapping his arms around him.

Y/n makes eye contact with Alexandra who gives her a sweet smile. Y/n smiles back, ignoring the guilt she felt. "Alex, congratulations." She quietly says, "I must say, that ring is gorgeous."

"Y/n! Thank you." Alexandra replies with a smile. "That bag is beautiful. I have the purple one and I love it!"

"Can never go wrong with a Chanel Kelly, right?" Y/n says with a chuckle as Lando interrupts her to talk to Alexandra. Which meant it left Y/n to face Charles. The Monegasque's eyes widened as he recognized her red Dior dress and Chanel bag.

"Y/n, you look spectacular." He quietly says, pulling her into a hug. Y/n hated how such words made her blush and want to giggle. Her heart skipped a beat as she pulled away, now noticing how he was wearing glasses.

"Glasses? I've always loved them on you."

Charles chuckles, taking a glance at her up and down. That glance only meant one thing, that she would be underneath him after the party. She hated being at his engagement party but still felt such a need to be with him.

"I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Always."

The night dragged on and Y/n kept her gaze on Charles and Alexandra. They seemed happy. Everyone seemed happy for them. Her heart hurt knowing that Charles wasn't hers officially.

She felt the same heartbroken feeling as she watched him quickly change back into his clothes late that night. She still was naked underneath the covers, trying to catch her breath but he was rushing to get back to his fiance.

Y/n lets out a deep sigh as she watches him leave after kissing the top of her head. Water filled her eyes, laying her head against her pillow. She felt stupid for ever thinking that Charles would officially be hers. After all, she was the other woman.

[justallmyfantasies]

oh, you’re a mess, love.

alex looks after your drunken state

contains: vomiting, fluff.

word count: 1.2k.

you’re walking beside alex, his hand supporting your body. you were completely wasted, stumbling around on the sidewalk. your vision was blurry, your words were slurred, and your coordination was nonexistent. alex was walking next to you, his strong hand holding onto your hip, supporting your body weight and keeping you from falling over.

"come on, let's get you home" alex says in a firm but caring tone. he tightened his grip on your hip, his hand feeling warm and comforting against your skin. the night was cool and quiet, except for the sound of your stumbling footsteps and the occasional car passing by.

you stumbled again, almost tripping over your own feet. alex quickly steadied you, pulling you closer to his side. you could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils.

"you really shouldn't have had so much to drink." alex murmurs as he leads you down the sidewalk. you could feel the concern in his voice, but you were too drunk to form a coherent response.

the walk to your home felt endless, each step a struggle in your drunken state. alex's hand on your hip felt like a lifeline, keeping you grounded and preventing you from falling flat on your face. finally, after what felt like an eternity, you reached your front door.

alex unlocked the door, holding it open for you as you stumbled inside. the room was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside. you wobbled your way over to the couch, plopping down on it with a thud.

alex followed you, sitting down beside you on the couch. he looked at you with a mix of pity and concern, his eyes scanning your face. you could feel the room beginning to spin, the alcohol in your system making it hard to focus on anything.

alex reached out and took your hand, his grip gentle but firm. "you're going to have a nasty headache tommorow," he says quietly, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin.

you groaned in response, the mere thought of tommorow making your head throb even more. you leaned back against the couch, your eyes fluttering closed as you tried to steady your breathing.

“alex..”

alex turned to look at you, his eyes soft in the dim light of the living room. "yeah, love?" he asked quietly, his voice soft and comforting.

“i think i’m going to be sick,” you mumbled, your stomach churning as a wave of nausea washed over you. you felt your body start to shudder, and you knew you were going to throw up.

alex's expression shifted from concern to alarm as he heard your words. "ah shit." he muttered, quickly standing up and helping you off the couch. he led you towards the bathroom, guiding you until you were standing in front of the toilet.

before you could even register what was happening, you were hunching over the toilet, the contents of your stomach emptying into the bowl. alex stood beside you, one hand holding your hair back, the other resting gently on your back.

“it’s alright, just let it out” he murmured, his voice soothing as he tried to reassure you. you retched again, the acrid taste of vomit filling your mouth.

alex continued to rub small circles on your back, offering what little comfort he could. you could feel the tension in your body starting to release as your stomach began to empty.

after a few minutes, the heaving finally subsided. you leaned against the side of the toilet, feeling weak and humiliated. alex reached over and flushed the toilet, his hand still resting on your back.

he helped you up, leading you over to the sink. he turned on the water and handed you a cup. you rinsed your mouth out, the cold water helping to wash away the bitter taste of vomit.

“that’s it, i’m never drinking again.”

alex chuckled softly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "yeah, you say that every time."

he reached out and grabbed a clean washcloth, running it under warm water before handing it to you.

you gratefully took the cloth, using it to wipe your face. you looked up at alex, feeling a pang of embarrassment at your current state. you knew you looked a mess- your hair was disheveled, your makeup was smudged, and your shirt was stained with vomit.

but alex didn’t seem to mind. his gaze was still soft, his expression filled with concern rather than disgust. he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and tender.

“you’re a mess, you know that?” he said, a hint of humor in his voice. you groaned in response, feeling a pang of shame at your current state.

“i know. i’m sorry.” you mumbled, looking down at your feet. you felt terrible, not just from the alcohol, but from the knowledge that you had made a complete fool of yourself in front of alex.

he chuckled again, shaking his head. “don’t apologise. it’s not the first time you’ve gotten shitfaced like this, and it probably won’t be the last.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his words. alex had been there for you through all your drunken nights- picking you up from bars, taking care of you when you were sick, and putting up with your foolish behavior. despite everything, he was still here, standing by your side.

he reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, steadying you. “come on, let’s get you to bed. you’re gonna want to sleep this off.”

you nodded gratefully, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you. you allowed alex to lead you out of the bathroom and towards your bedroom. he helped you get undressed, removing your vomit-stained shirt and helping you into a clean set of pajamas.

once you were dressed, he helped you into bed, pulling the blankets up around you. you snuggled under the covers, feeling the warmth and comfort of the sheets surrounding you.

alex got into his side of the bed, in his sleepwear which was just some boxers. his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “try and get some sleep, alright? you’re gonna feel like hell tommorow.”

you nodded weakly, already feeling the exhaustion pulling you under. alex switched off the lamp on the nightstand, plunging the room into darkness. you could feel yourself drifting off, your eyelids growing heavy.

“i love you.”

just before you fell asleep, you felt alex’s hand reach out and lace fingers with yours. “i love you too.” he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a small gesture of comfort and reassurance.

you smiled faintly, feeling a wave of gratitude towards him. despite everything, alex was always there for you, always taking care of you even when you didn’t deserve it. with that thought in mind, you slowly slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.

alex continued to hold your hand, watching as your breathing slowed and your body relaxed into sleep. he couldn’t help but feel a pang of affection for you, despite the hassle you put him through. he knew that tomorrow you would wake up hungover and embarrassed about your behavior, but for now, you looked peaceful and content. and that was enough for him.

hi this is my first time writing something proper, don’t judge please!! i’m all open to advice and suggestions. 💕

[un-lawliet]

hii !! i just read your sick gojo getting taken of by reader fic (it was amazing btw <33) and i was wondering if u could write it in reverse? like gojo taking care of sick reader yk

love ur writing and i hope u have a great day 🫶

(THANK YOUUUUU FOR THR REQUEST I LOVE SICK FICS SO MUCH IM SORRY FOR HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THIS !!!! TY AGAIN)

“Impartial”

— you’re sick, you hate being sick but at least he’s there.

( taking care of Gojo while he’s sick here <3 )

When you woke up this morning you thought you were dying.

Your entire body was flushed, your temperature fluctuating, your breath coming out ragged and raspy against your raw throat.

It took you about thirty seconds of enduring this torture before you rolled over and groaned into your pillow, the action making you dizzy.

Helpless to your symptoms you wiped the sweat off your forehead, throwing the covers off of your clammy body and sighed.

Fuck sakes, you were sick.

Gojo and you were supposed to go to the little cafe just around the corner of your apartment for breakfast this morning, you frown as you recall how excited he was when you asked him to join you.

The thought of food made you cringe, your eyes clamping shut in an attempt to retain you composure.

Nope, you were going to have to cancel.

With a bitter expression you sent him a quick text, telling him of your, in your opinion, life threatening cold, and apologising with a promise that you’ll join him later in the week for waffles.

You were just going to have to sleep it off- you could surely just do that. There was no way you could do anything in this pathetic state.

You close your eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in your head and how you could hear the blood rushing in your ears, and the feeling of your nose being tapped…By what felt like a finger?

…Huh?

You cracked and eye open and almost shrieked when you saw your idiot boyfriend grinning at you through his lashes, his finger delicately placed of the tip of your nose.

“Satoru! What the fuck!” You exclaimed, your heart pounding, glaring at him.

“Hi baby.” He winked, standing up to place a hand on your forehead “Man you’re burning up, how long have you felt sick hm?”

You gape at him, unable to fully register his words.

“How the hell did you get in..? Oh my God did you fucking teleport into my room?” You sat up, pushing his hand away.

The room swayed and you winced as your body protested the sudden movement.

A gentle hand was placed on your shoulder, “Hey, hey take it easy ‘kay?” Gojo raised a hand to brush away the stray hair stuck to your forehead, a soft smile on his face, “I couldn’t just leave my poor sick princess alone when she so desperately needs my help no?”

You frown at him, your hand reaching up to grasp his, “‘M not desperate at all you jerk.”

And Gojo giggles, leaning down to kiss your forehead, “Sure you are! Look at your cute little flushed cheeks.” He coos.

Your grip on his hand tightens, and he beams at how you roll your eyes at him.

“Lemme take care of you yea?”

“You’ll get sick.”

And Gojos mouth twitches, as if holding himself back from reminding you that he is the strongest.

And you hold yourself back from throwing your pillow at his stupid face.

Despite everything however, you found yourself leaning towards him, resigning yourself to his care, ignoring the way his face lights up.

With another quick kiss to your forehead he jumps up, a look of domestic determination on his features.

“Have you ate?”

You shake your head.

And then you’re in the air, well, in his arms, heading towards the kitchen.

“Satoru put me down!”

“No baby, ehe~”

You groan against his neck, and he shivers ever so slightly, gently rocking you in his embrace.

“You need to eat sweet pea! Otherwise you’ll never get better.”

“Yes I know that.” You hiss, “But I can walk to the kitchen without your help.”

Gojo gasps, and you pull yourself from his neck to look at him.

“But baby what if something terrible happened and I wasn’t there to help?”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

And you do, he knows you do, they way you whisper a small “thank you” and kiss his neck is telling, and he loves how you let him care for you, loves that you, despite everything, rely on him to help.

“Say ‘Ah.” And you just stare at Gojo, who wiggled a spoon in your face, “Come on baby, say ‘Ah.’-”

“I’m not going to say “Ah” Gojo.” You deadpan.

You’re sat on the counter of your kitchen, the one beside the sink, Gojo claiming it was the easiest place for him to feed you for you to eat.

He had made your favourite comfort meal, the one you told him about months ago, that you were sure he had forgot about.

“I’m really not hungry Toru.” You mumble, feeling a wave of nausea crash over your body.

Gojo deflates, thinking.

When he raises his head his eyes are shining, and you lift a hand to cover his mouth, knowing a ridiculous idea was going to be presented to you.

You’re fast, but he’s faster, the gentle grip on your hand is proof of that, and he smirks.

“If you eat it, I’ll give you a kiss.”

You’re staring at him again, and he only smiles back, his dimples taunting you.

“Fucking fine.” You sigh, Gojo aways gets his way, there’s no point arguing. And although you’d never admit it, out-loud, ever, you kind of wanted a kiss.

And Gojo feels his heart swell with pride as you open your mouth and eat, there’s probably stars in his eyes and he dotes upon you.

One spoonful, then another, and then he’s kissing you all over.

You protest but don’t pull away, and when he finally reaches your lips, you finally smile, the giggle you let out matching his.

You’re on the sofa, on his lap, cradled in his arms as the TV plays a rerun of some shitty movie from the 90’s.

And you let yourself cuddle him, feeling exhausted but safe in his arms, your head doesn’t seem quite as sore as it once was.

He traces little patterns on your back, humming a quiet song meant for your ears only.

“Love you Toru.” You whisper, and he doesn’t reply, just tightens his hold on you, a silent gesture that reassures you that you don’t need to thank him, that he would care about you always, regardless of what you think, or say.

the end.

masterlist here <3

THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST I HOPE THIS WAS OK !!!! IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO WRITE IT ! i love you and i hope you’re well anon :))

(A/N: My sister and I are like alone in our hotel cause our parents went on a cruise this morning.. ANYWAY she like turned to me crying and i was like help are you ok BECAUSE RN IM SO TOTALLY HUNGOVER and then she threw up on me. IT WAS LITERALLY LIKE BIG SISTER MODE WAS ACTIVATED i feel like a fucking doctor, i stole a mop and a spray from one of the cleaning ladies cart SO if you’re a cleaner and you can’t find your mop i’m so sorry that was me i panicked.)

[cowgirlcherrie]

THE PRINCESS DIARIES — *ೃ༄

rockstar! ellie x princess! fem! reader. wc: 11.4k

synopsis: discovering your sense of self after a lofty adjustment to the throne, your guitar-wielding ex-fling shows you that you shouldn’t hate the world.

warnings: 18+. MDNI Sarah is alive in this and is r! best friend, Abby cameo, WOC coded fem! reader, mentions/talks of death, jealousy, smoking (Ellie smokes cigs), bickering, arguing, enemies to lovers, closely inspired by The Princess Diaries movie, mean-ish! Ellie, cursing, rushes to perfection, panic attacks r! has one, anger management classes/ anger issues, Ellie is kinda reckless in this, College-modern! Ellie adjacent, kissing, mentions of hook-ups. best friends sister kinda thing, petnames (princess, dear, baby), kinda slow burn

━━ ♪ Enchanted by taylor swift, I know you by faye webster

a/n: hi my loves this is an almost 200 followers gift, because I love you guys all so much and I'm so glad that you are supporting and enjoying my work, please enjoy because this is a long but sweet one similar to my totally clueless work, inspired by one of the cutest movies everrr - 100% inspired by this art that I’ve seen as welll♡♡

It was time to trade your t-shirt and skirts for dresses, converses to heels. Rags to riches. Royalty knocked on your door like a death sentence, and you were sick of it.

“Did you seriously give my cat a tiara?”

This was not the first thing you wanted to see coming back to your dorm after a dreadful 3-hour class. Your precious golden locked tabby resting on your pink decorative pillow with a toddler tiara on his head — contrasting the scowl on his face as soft meows left his mouth in discomfort. He almost looked like yourself. Bitter and dissatisfied.

This seemed to be an everyday occurrence. Your vivacious roommate, Sarah Miller, loved to tease you about the title you hated the most. Royalty. With Royalty comes nobility and class. The ball gowns, prestige, and perfection almost made you want to throw up at the sight of it. But you couldn’t bail for the sake of Glendale being without a ruler or the public shame, you couldn’t back out – It was far too late. 

When the words Princess Hier fell out of your grandmother’s mouth, you felt every wall of comfort fall down. A safety shell forms around your body, fighting the change. The change was supposed to be good, but this felt mentally taxing. Not like it was the end of the world — however, to your peace and serenity it was. Moderately shying away from public acknowledgment would be more conventional to you.

“Isn’t he cute, a little prince…of Glendale” Sarah laughed, rubbing your cat’s face to which he jumped off the bed, hiding underneath the plush mountain that was your mattress. All you could do was groan. Throwing your body dramatically onto your bed, The Jackon U baby tee on your body lifting up slightly to expose your stomach as you inhaled and exhaled deeply. 

“Wish I could retire myself from the royal family” you dragged, looking at your phone now to see the arrangements of messages. Specifically, the one from your grandma saying you had princess training and a brunch with her at 5 tomorrow. 

“Isn’t that all we ever dreamed about…hell you even have a personal bodyguard,” Sarah emphasized, “How cool is that!” the girl sat on her bed, painting her nails a plush pink color humming the tune of the Ariana Grande song that she recently bought on vinyl. 

Sarah was right, whilst it sounded good, the thought of exchanging your personal freedoms for a title disgusted you. How were you to be the people’s princess when you couldn’t even navigate adulthood properly? It was strikingly overwhelming. Your mother, coddling you away from the fate of your future just made it worse.

You groaned again, “Next subject…” 

“Will you be here tomorrow? Going to Ellie’s, the band is practicing for the Spring Festival” Sarah inquired while blowing on her nails with ease. Right…Ellie. Your sworn enemy Ellie, Sarah’s sister…Ellie. She was enigmatic to you, certainly, the type you don’t bring home to Mama, just a rebellious firecracker. You could smell the faint aroma of cigarettes and wood just by thinking about her. Her presence was frustrating to you. Surely she felt the same. 

You weren’t sure how you have come to dislike Ellie, it seemed set in stone, written off in the stars for the two of you. At the first meeting, you thought everything was perfect. That she would be a friend, not a foe. You found Ellie to be quite pretty, with short hair and tattoos to contrast your girly attitude. She wore a large leather jacket when you first met her. Cigarette hanging lowly from her lips as she smiled at you. Chartreuse orbs twinkled as her hand was out for yours to shake. You were naive, she was an arrogant know-it-all, but not with you. 

Wherever there was Sarah, there would certainly be you, the blonde dragging you to every event, every show. You were Sarah’s cheerleader, Ellie’s too. You recalled the night you and Ellie got stuck stargazing on the rooftop of the science building. It seemed downhill from there, an accidental liplock where you made home with her lips on yours. The pillow-like clouds that encompassed your own, despite her rough attitude, she was gentle with you. 

Her hands held your waist as if you were fragile. She kept pushing, kept kissing until her cheeks were flushed red and breathing seemed obsolete. She kissed like she would never see you again, as if you were dissipating in her hands. With Sarah to your rescue, Ellie had to ruin the moment by saying, “Don’t tell anyone”

So you didn’t. It was your little secret. Pushing your newfound feelings aside and instead found yourself wandering eyes to Lacrosse player #5, Abby Anderson. The first time you brought it up, you were certain that Ellie Williams officially despised you.

“There’s this girl…I really wanna get with her by the end of the semester” You told Sarah, the two of you sitting in the band basement’s brown couch. The two of you gossiped after her band practice. You swore that there were only the two of you in the room, not caring to whisper or lower your tone.

“Oh my…what’s her name?” Sarah whispered as she leaned into your figure, prying for more.

“Abby, on the lacrosse team.” You confessed making Sarah’s jaw drop in shock. 

“No way, everyone fucking wants Abby! She’s hot though, and you’re hot too…If the two of you were alone in a room I think you truly could hook up with her!” Sarah chimed in, nodding her head in pleasure. You could only giggle. “No way” 

“Yes!..way!”

“No—”

“I don’t see it” Ellie spoke up making her presence known in the room. Walking to where her guitar stood on the stand to unplug it from the amplifier. Your body jumped at her sudden entry, the pitter-patter of your heart, beating like a knocker on the door. You weren’t sure if it was her presence that made you nervous or if it was the fact that she was saying no, to you seeing someone else.

Was it anxiety? Fear? Or sadness? Possibly all 3.

“Huh,” you mumbled, smile dropping as you eyed her figure who wasn’t paying attention to you. Vision getting cloudier by the second.

“Just saying…you’re gullible, overly trusting and fuckin’ virginal…she’ll wreck you – probably hit n’ quit [Ellie!]” The sound of glass shattering replayed in your head. Your lips were separated, but a sound refused to escape your lips. Waterline full of crystal clear tears as the room, and the girl in front of you grew shiny. The words that Ellie said sticking with you. It was cold and low of her, Ellie even knew she might have gone too far, masking her feelings with the coldness that felt like a warm hug to her. Ellie knew better, finally looking at you, her heart tearing at the sight of disbelief on your face. Watery eyes, she was fucked up. But Ellie wanted you to let it go. She wanted to let you go.

It wasn’t for her, hell it was for you. If Ellie wasn’t so emotionally constipated she would have changed her mind and been honest with you. The way your glossed lips felt on hers that night, she could get used to you being hers, that’s all she could ever dream about since it happened. Since you shook her hand the day the two of you first met. She wanted you to be hers.

Ellie Williams was a first-class asshole.

Now you never ended up dating Abby, hell you wish you did. Choosing to drop your little crush and focus on yourself instead. Especially after finding out your royal status, love seemed immature, and off the table – almost overrated. Others, however, thought the future was bright for Ellie and yourself. Sarah was convinced the two of you would end up dating in the future, often rambling about how the both of you would hate each other so much, that you end up infatuated with each other. All bullshit.

Lies.

“Just hearing her name makes me barf!”

“You’re so dramatic!” Sarah yelled, shaking her head at your response “M’not going” 

“It’s from 2-4 and I know you aren’t doing anything, just come! You get to hear the song I’ve been working on for the past week and a half…please” Sarah began, her voice was convincing. Hell, she was always a little too convincing, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever tell the sweet girl no. You were getting ready to shake your head, giving the girl a guilty look as she pleaded some more, this time she fluttered her eyes at you, hopping off of her bed to come onto yours shaking her hand on your shoulder. “Sorry…Sarah”

“Pleaseee…I’ll make sure Ellie doesn’t bother you!”

Your eyes snapped open. “Out of sight, out of mind — I’ll come” you hissed as Sarah only jumped in excitement, throwing her body down to hug your figure. Making you let out a huff in surprise, followed by a laugh at the sudden weight. It was times like this that you enjoyed with your best friend. The moments where she said yes, and you said no but she’ll change your mind and in the end, remorse wasn’t something you felt. 

But then you thought back to people who weren’t Sarah, the rest of the band…Ellie, your little princess secret wasn’t out yet hell you haven’t even given it the green light. People talk like trees in the wind. It was only a matter of time before the tabloids got sold a story and your face was plastered on every newspaper. 

JNU PRIDE? Princess of Glendale goes to Jackson U

Princess of Glendale likes to kiss girls!

Princess of Glendale…party monster?

Your brain combusted at the thought of seeing you headlining the news with some obnoxious title. You dreaded it — looming over you like a giant storm cloud. You shoved Sarah off of you, staring at the girl with your pinky out, “Can you promise me something?” You started, eyes full of seriousness and a fury like no other, you were no longer laughing. 

“You cannot tell anyone [Ellie?] not even Ellie, about my princess duties…not yet, I’ll do it on my own.”

Sarah now was mirroring your serious expression, kissing her pinky softly before wrapping it around your own with great force and weight.

“You’re secret safe with me…Princess”

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Somewhere along the way you were sure anyone could see the steam blowing out of your ears in anger. Sarah, while convincing, was not convincing enough. You should have opted out. Sitting on the rundown sofa in the band’s garage, You were certain Ellie was going to snap your head off. Part of you wondered why you still didn’t like the girl, was it her cockiness, overly large ego, or the way her hair shined like a fresh berry in the sun, or the constellation-like freckles on her—

“What are you doing her– is that my sweater?” the redhead rolled her eyes while tuning her guitar. Ellie’s eyes looked you up and down, slowly tracing her eyes from the pearl white knee-high socks, and black mini skirt before landing on the blue graphic crewneck you wore. Her once soft gaze now hardened, as if she suddenly had the realization of where the two of you stood. 

“This is not yours…it’s Sarah’s” You snap, crossing your arms across your chest. Ellie was next to you on the couch, The familiar scent of cigarettes and wood drowning your nostrils, it was intoxicating. Like fumes of a fire.

“...and where do you think Sarah got it from?” Ellie responded with a condescending tone in voice. She was pushing your buttons today, maybe slightly harder than she actually does. 

“I Don’t remember you being such a —”

“Such a what–”

You paused. Ellie looked away from her guitar to now glaring at you. Ellie’s hand was up to her ear, queuing that she was listening, eyebrows raising slightly. Your lips sealed tightly, as you sunk your body into the couch, trying to camouflage yourself from her vision. The room suddenly felt small. Air thick almost choking you.

“Thought so” Ellie spat, dismissing you with her hand while she continued to tune her guitar. Bitch, you muttered under your breath, now looking around to see if Sarah suddenly decided to make her re-entry. “Heard that”

The room was silent once more. The strumming of Ellie’s fingers hitting the G or the B chords filled the room, assisted by your small coughs. You could feel her body heat radiating to you, despite being so close yet so far on the couch – a noticeably large gap between the two of you. 

Ellie now rested her guitar flat on her lap, digging through her pockets and taking out a black light, along with a pack of Marlboro reds. Placing the toxin between her lips – cupping her free hand to block the wind from the flame. Ellie shook her head to herself as she exhaled the smoke.

“How are you?” she questioned out of the blue, tucking the lighter back in her pocket.

This was weird. Highly, extremely weird. The two of you bickered so much that you forgot what a normal conversation with her felt like. “How was your day?” was enough to break the ice, it surely was better than a “go home” or some outrageous insult she could think of. She was making small talk. Cheap chat.

“Fine…yeah I’m alright” you mumbled bringing a finger up to your mouth, chewing away at the flesh surrounding your nail. The pregnant silence filled the air again, Ellie’s bracelet jingled as she brought the cigarette to and from her mouth. Her left leg now bouncing up and down. “How…about you?”

Your eyes darted to the cigarette, watching as it burned quickly, the ashes building up, while Ellie would wait for the ash to build before cutting it away in the tray. 

“Fuckin’ fine too…” Ellie’s raspy voice wavered, almost as if she wasn’t trying to convince you more so herself. Her sudden movements were screaming that there was something that she wanted to say. The pace of her leg bouncing sped up while she also flipped the lid of her cigarette box opened and closed, almost feening for another stick in her mouth – perhaps the whole box.

“You don’t…look fine” You challenge, tilting your head at the girl next to you.

“Thanks, captain, fuckin’ obvious…not that you would care though” Ellie combatted, blowing the cigarette smoke away from your face. This time her hand was tangled in her hair, threading her fingers through her hair before pushing them back out and to the nape of her neck. 

You shrugged “M-Maybe I do…” 

“Oh sure, you do” Ellie laughed sarcastically, putting out the end of her cigarette, followed by a cough.

“You fuckin pry to everyone around you…or just me?” Ellie was getting mean. She didn’t mean to, the delivery of everything she would say getting more aggressive, and that was frustrating her even more. The girl swore she was working on being a better communicator – requested by Sarah who had to check Ellie for everything she said.

“Yeah, I totally pry to fucking bitchy assholes!” You yelled at Ellie. The tone of the room was shifting, the hostility growing back with swiftness.

“You and your prissy little attitude…”Ellie began, shaking her head as she turned her body this time to look at you, shrugging off the guitar from her lab, instead placing it next to the couch “You think Abby would have put up with how much of a brat you act?... Sorry Princess don’t think so” Ellie finished, clenching her jaw as she let out a heavy sigh.

“So this is what it’s about? Abby?” Your voice was harsh, as your body was also facing Ellie, this time the gap between the two of you was closing.

“Who— what the fuck? Who said this was [you did!] the fuck? I didn’t, [you literally said that!]  I mentioned Abby [which was months ago!]...shut up! and you got selfish [and you’re not?] Yeah actually!” the two of you were going back and forth this time. Talking over each other as your voices got louder and louder. Abruptly ending as Ellie reached out to grab your shoulders to get you to stop speaking.

“Get off!” You shouted. Tugging at Ellie’s hands – they only seemed to get tighter.

“Listen, I think…in some other shitty universe we truly could have gotten along with each other…you wouldn’t hate me and I wouldn’t hate you.” Ellie slipped, vulnerability spilling out of her mouth like water, that was the last straw.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Why do YOU hate me?” Ellie was silent at your question, but it gave you everything you need to know. You kissed your teeth, laughing to yourself as you shook your head in disappointment.

“Well I’m glad it isn’t this one” you responded. Your voice was like a smack to the face. Ellie’s hands fell limp at your shoulders, loosening their weight now giving you room to peel them off as you stood up from the couch. After a quick smooth-out to your skirt, and grabbing the black purse that was next to you, all Ellie could do was watch as your figure walked further and further away. 

As you opened the door, Sarah was now making her grand return, occupied by her cell phone but pulling you aside. From all Ellie could see, was your urgency to leave, Her fingers found their way to her lips rubbing them as she cursed under her breath. Sarah shifted her head to lock eyes with Ellie, Narrowing them. Making Ellie quickly turned into her seat sinking in the chair, bringing her hands up to shield her head. Ellie’s head was rushing – like a file cabinet with disorganized folders. Your absence was sealed with the slam of the door behind you, making Ellie exhale.

Sarah cleared her throat, anger deep in her voice, “Ellie what did you do?” 

Ellie exploded, “FUCK!” 

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

“Straighten your spine, chin up, relax the shoulders” 

This time, you were at your Grandmother’s Mansion It was almost impossible to relax when all you could think about was Ellie’s words to you prior. Her words played in your brain like a broken VCR, your body tensing at the thought of it. The hunch you had of the rebellious girl hating you plagued your thoughts, did she really mean that? Whilst you might have disliked the girl for her abrupt change in attitude you certainly didn’t hate Ellie. Your heart tore at the fact that she visibly felt the opposite.

“Princess, where is your head?...” your grandmother shouted with concern, you still couldn’t focus on your princess training lessons. Shrugging the book off of your head, used to control your posture, now choosing to place it in your lap as you sat next to your grandmother by the outdoor water fountain. 

“Dear, should we cut to tea time [No! Let’s keep going]…?”

“I don’t think I could do this” you exhaled, fiddling your fingers on top of the book. You didn’t wanna cut yourself short, but all you could do was hermit and hide yourself away. All for some petty argument. 

“Do what, dear?”

“This Princess…stuff – all respect! But I just don’t think it’s for me” you concluded, your words left a bitter taste in your mouth, putting your head down while you refused to look at your grandmother. You knew her face would be frowning, the wrinkles on her face exaggerating her apparent disappointment, displaying every bit of her age. Your hands started to grip your skirt, twisting and turning the fabric before finding a strand of thread, pulling the lining through as white web-like thread pooled in your hands.

“Okay…What’s wrong? Boy or Girl drama?” Your grandmother asked as if she was onto your behavior – She was reading you like a book. Her frail and boney hands reached over to grab at yours to stop you from pulling the threads of your skirt. You rubbed your gloss lips together, feeling the sticky substance provide you with mild comfort. 

“Do you think I’m hateable…Grandma?” You blurted out, voice small, barely coming out as a whisper, snaking your hand tightly to your grandma’s that was on top of yours. The older woman gave your hand a squeeze “Oh dear, that’s nonsense – you are wonderful! Slightly rough around the edges, but you are an amazing daughter, I’m sure you’ll make an excellent princess…an even better lover”

Your Grandmother gave you just the affirmation you needed, negative thoughts whisking away one by one. The elder abruptly stood up, fixing her tiara and pantsuit holding one arm out in front of you.

“Let’s walk, we have a lot to chat about” Her English accent was thick but she sounded elegant and proper. Great care and delicacy came with her voice. You followed her footsteps locking your arm with hers. The two of you walk through the courtyard, moving at a slow pace but perfect enough for the older woman to give you a lecture.

“The royal ball is this Saturday, followed by your induction ceremony on Sunday, I would like to know your decision” She discussed to which you let out a groan. The truth was you hadn’t made a decision yet, drowning yourself in academic work and the Ellie drama, it surely was the last of things you wanted to be focused on. 

“I–”

“I know what you’re thinking, your father was the same way too.” Your lips folded into each other at the mention of your father. You didn’t quite know the man, hell after his death your mother never mentioned him. Living with your mother in the refurbished firehouse, haunted by the pictures of him that felt like a pure imagination – Nothing other than a dream. No letter, no heirloom, nothing. But this certainly was something, right?

“You know Y/n you are just like him, even down to the looks – a spitting image of that man” Your grandma started, making you tilt your head at the analogy, “But what makes you different is your honesty, your father never knew what he wanted, except for the fact that he was adamant on trading royalty for a mundane type of love”

“He abandoned the throne?” You mumbled, looking away from your grandmother and facing the greenery in the garden. Tough conversations come at the time that you felt were improper. This was really not the conversation you were in the mood to have. Did she think you’d do the same?

The elder bit her tongue, “In simple terms, yes” A heavy sigh escaped your lips – not failing to go unnoticed by the older woman alongside you. “But I have a proposal for you…” Your grandmother began, this made your ears perk up, stopping her walk so you could hear her loud and clear. Perhaps if it wasn’t for the obnoxiously pollinated shrubs triggering your allergies, you could have heard her better.

“I think it would be great for you to find a date for the ball” Your eyes went wide almost like two tennis balls. There was no way that you would find one. Sarah had a date with some guy Saturday, and your other friend Dina had mumbled something about band practice. It just seemed near impossible. In full honesty, you’d rather be alone.

“Grandma, if I’m being honest…I don’t have anyone” You confess shyly, rubbing your hands at your temples and feeling the faint pulse come along. Certainly, Tylenol or a bandaid couldn’t fix the issue you were having.

“Your presence is still expected…I hope you think about it well, Princess”

If you thought you were dead, you certainly would have so wished now. The faint noise of whispered arguing filled your ears – muffled but with bass, while your head was tucked into a pillow. It almost sounded like bees gossiping in a hive. Noisy and irritant. All the noise seemed to stop when you let out a groan, twisting your body to face the white wall. Despite being in your sleepy state, the presence of warm bodies didn’t fail to interrupt the intimate moment you were having with your sheets. Your eyes fluttered open, blurry vision adjusting with a rub to the delicate skin around your eyes – body sitting up with vastness. Turning towards Sarah’s bed, your body jolted at the sight in front of you. Sarah sitting on her bed, staring at you with concern – Ellie to her left, looking at you with fear and sadness. Ellie was giving a pity look, and she never gave one of those. Something was wrong. 

“What’s wrong with you both? Why do you look like that?” You snapped, the silence was overbearing. Uncomfortable almost. Snatching the bonnet off of your head, which dropped the silky blown-out silk press you had gotten done yesterday. Reaching over to your desk to grab the pink hair brush to smooth out your hair. It is still silent – still,  from Sarah and Ellie’s end as they watched every movement you made, in fear almost. This was starting to frustrate you.

“Okay, seriously what’s up?” You grimaced, hopping off of your dorm bed to look at the alarm clock on your desk, seeing 9:45am flash repeatedly. The two were acting weird. Sarah gave Ellie a guilty glance, her lips parted as her blue orbs made their way back to you.

“Have you seen the news?” Sarah blurted out making Ellie tilt her head in irritation, “God Sarah shut up!” Ellie yelled, trying to silence the blonde next to her. Ellie gave you a nervous look, twirling the bracelet on her tattooed wrist. Clenching her jaw, Ellie now shielded her body away from you.

You squint your eyes at Sarah, “What news?” You question, “By the way, where the fuck is my phone? It’s literally nowhere to be found.”

Ellie dug her hand into her pocket pulling out your sleek phone covered in a pink protectant case – Why did Ellie have your phone? You speed walked over to the green-eyed girl, reaching to grab the device only making Ellie pull it higher from your reach.

 “Ellie seriously” You whined, Your body almost falling on top of Ellie’s as she tried to hide your phone away from your hands. The two of you almost dancing, You would reach with one hand, and Ellie would dodge it by moving in the opposite direction of your hand. Ellie threw your phone onto your bed, the device landing with a loud thud as her hands caught your waist before you could run off. Squirming underneath her touch, you couldn’t stay still until she dug her nails into your waist making you scream.

“Ow! Fuck you! E–”

“Tell her Sarah” Ellie was giving Sarah a pissed look as she held you tightly at the waist. Your eyes darted from Sarah to Ellie, back to Sarah once more, “Now!”

“--Someone leaked your secret – Everyone knows that you’re a P-Princess!” Sarah yelled out, pushing her phone in front of your face. Making you halt all movement in your body. The words that flew out of her mouth made you dizzy, a queasy feeling washing over your body as the urge to double over and chuck out yesterday’s dinner lingered. Your body tensed in Ellie’s hands as your back fell against her chest – Ellie holding you upright, rubbing circles at your waist. This was foreign. Ellie showing sympathy to you, it felt weird to have her hands on your body again after the roof-top incident. But you didn’t give yourself time to process it for long, “W-What?”

This time you snatched her phone from her hands,  looking at the articles in front of you. They were creepy photos, stalker-like almost. As if you had been watched for weeks. Photos of you on campus with Sarah, yearbook photos from high school, even you leaving your grandmother’s mansion. The titles were just as obnoxious. 

“ROYAL LIVES ON! FIRST SPOTTING OF GLENDALE’S NEW SOON-TO-BE PRINCESS!”

“BFF’S FOREVER? INSIDE SCOOP OF THE PRINCESS’S LIFE AT JNU”

“Nononono” You rambled, scrolling through each article that only seemed to be never-ending. Your face was attached to these articles. HD pictures at that. You were exposed to the world. Assed out. Everyone knew what you couldn’t even understand yourself. 

Your worst nightmare was coming true, and there was nothing you could do to stop it, especially with the Spring Festival happening today. It was the perfect recipe for disaster. Recalling Ellie’s hands at your waist, you shrugged the girl off in irritation as Ellie eyed your figure that was now pacing.

“This is bad! Like I’m screwed…Fuck Sarah, I’m so screwed” You ranted to your best friend, sadness turning to anger like a flip of a switch. “Hell, this article is wrong! I didn’t even say yes yet! It wasn’t my decision” You were on the verge of tears. 

“I didn’t choose the throne!” you cried out again, this time sitting on your bed holding your head in your hands. Your cat, Mittens, ran to Sarah’s lap, resting his head on Sarah’s leg while letting out slow purrs. 

“Sarah, Is she okay?” Ellie whispered, this time sincerity ran through her voice, as she looked at her sister this time, almost begging for directions on what to do. It wasn’t like Ellie to show that she cared, hell most would have thought she would have gained some satisfaction sentiment at the sight of seeing your world collapse, but it felt the opposite. Ellie felt guilty, sick to her stomach at the sight of your panic. Seeing your body rake in sobs, hands gripping at your sheets, tears like a never-ending river, “I don’t think so…I’ve never seen her act like this”

Sarah panicked, bringing her hand up to her mouth at the sight of your panic attack. She was sure if you weren’t stopped the dorm would have been absolutely demolished by the time you reached your cool down. It was true, crying was something you have never done in front of Sarah, hell not even your own mother. Your cool exterior was deteriorating, feeling your body suddenly lose control of itself, head spinning – nothing made sense anymore.

Sarah croaked, “Ellie…” making Ellie jump up from her position at the edge of Sarah’s bed rushing over to your figure. Ellie didn’t care if you were upset with her anymore, nor did the redhead care if you hated her. She didn’t want this for you. She wasn’t entirely an asshole.

Ellie did not care if you were going to fight her – potentially smack her for still being in your space, in this moment Ellie wanted to do something right, at least ease the fear that grew in your fiery heart. Ellie sat on your bed, applying her calloused fingers onto your shaky ones, giving a firm grip to your hand – detaching slightly as her hand trailed up your spine, moving your hair out from your face. Tingles exploded through your body at her sudden presence. 

“Can you look at me…please?” Ellie’s voice was gentle. Different from her raspy aggressive tone that she consistently gave you. Your head was still facing towards your lap, but Ellie’s voice was enough to drive you out of the dreamy haze you were in, each inhale you took could be heard loudly through the room. A hand shot up to your heart. 

“I can’t breathe…fuck– I can- I can’t” you whimpered making. Ellie squeeze her eye shut, cursing under her breath as she tapped herself back into the situation. 

“Sarah, can you give us a sec?” Ellie was almost begging her sister, Her hands rubbing circles in your back, while she looked across at Sarah’s nervous state. Sarah nodded, getting off of the bed to slide her slippers on her feet. Gently putting her key lanyard around her neck – Sarah headed for the door, closing it softly behind her. 

Ellie took the click of the door locks the opportunity to slide her hoodie off, leaving Ellie in a white tee. Recalling what she was learning in her anger management classes, something about controlling breaths and taking a step back to breathe – deciding now would be a good time to use the breathing exercises she learned. 

Ellie dipped her body weight towards yours, her cool bare skin touching yours that was slightly warm, Your hand was entangled around your heart, practically scratching the fabric that was your lace tank top. Ellie pulled your body into a full hug, which at first you resisted, but the thumping of your heart slowed with applied pressure. “Okay breathe in and out…slowly” Ellie instructed.

You followed her exact words. Head buried into her chest as you continued the breathing exercises, following the tone of her voice. “Good job, Angel, you’re doing such a great job, one more time for me” Ellie led the breathing exercises, as she inhaled implying for you to follow suit, which you did. Closing with a prolonged exhale.

Ellie pried your body away from hers. Not caring that your body was sticky from the pool of thick sweat that ran down your forehead. Ellie stopped to eye your face, which was in a calmer state than before but she could still see the jittering from your body.

“We are gonna try something, I know you’re not a fan of me…but I really need you to trust me, I’ll never let you down, nothing’s gonna hurt you while I’m here” Ellie muttered, she was pleading you. Her voice was wobbly as she did so. God, Ellie would never say it out loud, but she was concerned, and worried for you. The freckled face girl just wanted you to be at ease. “I want you to list 5 things you can see in this room”

You pointed at your cat on the floor “Uh…Mittens”

That’s one.

You winced before continuing to try to find objects to focus on.

“My Hairbrush”

That’s two.

“Your bracelet”

That’s three.

“The mole on your cheek…underneath your eye”

That’s four. 

“Come on baby, you’re doing so good for me…one more” Ellie praised, running her hand along your cheek.

“Your, eyes they–they’re a nice washy paled green”

Finally, five.

“Good job! Should we keep going?” Ellie was gentle – careful as if you were a piece of glass, but as much as you wanted to bicker with Ellie in front of you, you couldn’t find it in yourself to do so. But how close her body was to you and her ability to set your mind at ease was impressive. 

You shook your head no, feeling a lot calmer than you have prior. Feeling the faint mixture of cotton and satin from the comforter on your bed, the hand that was around your chest loosened up, and the air was becoming clearer. You were getting grounded, the blurry haze that was your vision vanishing.

“Can I say one more thing” Ellie spoke up amidst the silence, “...I still don’t like you” you grumbled in between breaths, pulling your hair out of your face and behind your ears. Your tender laugh rang Ellie’s ears, making her do the same –  Ellie rolled her eyes at your statement. Despite traveling through a panic attack you were the same old girl whose dislike didn’t seem to budge. 

“Yeah, yeah…no you don’t”

“‘cause you hat—”

“Not anymore…maybe a dislike?…I don’t know I just, I-I think I owe that much to you” Ellie snapped. The tone of the room shifted back to seriousness. Ellie was getting vulnerable, throwing in the white towel, this was the moment she was certainly sure she didn’t wanna drag her dislike towards you anymore. The more she thought about it, she really didn’t hate you at all. Ellie was unraveling the tuff knot she made of dislike that she had balled up for you, pealing each layer back like a tangerine. It was all a facade, as her therapist called it. Just a way for her to mask her emotions and put a wall up for anyone who came a little too close to stimulating emotions other than sadness or anger. It was her fear holding her back. Your name was certainly dropped in her anger management classes hearing the same words that would leave Sarah’s mouth. 

You don’t truly hate her, you love her but you’re too emotionally immature to deal with it.

You paused on the bed. Looking at Ellie in full this time, noticing that the girl next to you had discarded the hoodie she was wearing prior, and the conflicted scowl that rested on her face. That similar bitter look that you loved to give, yourself. Ellie was deep in thought, finding comfort in the silence that the two of you were sharing. 

You smacked your lips, 

“You know I have a ridiculous Royal Ball to go to – and no date?...my grandma was like bring somebody for comfort, and I…I realized I didn’t really have anyone, I mean of course I have Sarah and Dina but I’d go to my first ball with other royal people of the world and I’ll be entirely alone…God, I don’t know why I’m telling you this” you confess, almost laughing at the way the words were spilling out of your mouth.

 Ellie was attentive, listening to every word you said.

“You know you have me right…I know I didn’t do a good job of making it known before…sorry- this is really hard for me…” Ellie started, puffing out her cheeks to exhale large sums of air – letting the bubble formed by her cheeks deflate. Ellie rubbed her hands on her thighs, up – and down before giving her legs a final squeeze, 

“You look like you really need a friend right now, and I…I want to help you, of course your still fuckin’ annoying but let me help you…I don’t expect you to say yes, but…” Ellie cut herself short pausing to control her own breathing while you took this opportunity to speak.

“Ellie, I never thought in my entire 4 years of college that I would be asking you this, but what are the odds that you could be my fake date to the Ball?... It’s all pretend, you just have to act like you like me and we can go our separate ways” You reason, crossing your fingers as you dug them into the sheet to be hidden from Ellie’s field of vision. Ellie however caught the crossing of your fingers, darting her dilating pupils to her tattoo, rubbing a hand at the inked sinking into her skin.

“Can I wear a suit?” Ellie pondered, which brought a smile to your face. Ellie made you smile. “Wait…are you smiling at me?”

“No…I’m smiling at Mittens” you coughed, “behind you…”

“I’m just fucking with you…yeah I am”

“Well…stop fucking doing that you’re creeping me out!” Ellie whined, shrugging her body away from yours. Ellie didn’t wanna admit it but your smile was comforting. It made her want to give one back. Feeling her cheekbones stretch at the possibility of her chapped lips curling into a smile. It was foreign but for once Ellie didn’t feel entirely terrible for wanting to do it.

“Yes, Ellie you can wear a suit, even if you showed up in sweats I wouldn’t care…uh thank you for this!” you beamed with a twinkle in your eye. 

“Don’t mention it” Ellie sealed. Giving you a light nudge on the shoulder. There was more silence to fill the air. But the air wasn’t thick anymore, and it didn’t feel like you had to walk on eggshells around anyone – the cloudy sky that was a room when you and Ellie coexisted faded away into a bright sun with a rainbow. You were pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of knocking on the door. This made your heart thump in fear watching the way the slender beige wood bounced with each pound. 

“Guys! Uh… hate to ruin the moment but Spring Fest starts in 30 minutes and the band needs to warm up!” Sarah shouted from the other side of the door, making Ellie curse under her breath. Getting up from your bed as she ran to Sarah’s dresser to get her car keys. 

“See you Sun–”

“Saturday, Ellie…”

“Right, right see you Saturday, your highness” Ellie was panting, out of breath as she did a shitty bow before bolting to the door and meeting Sarah that was on the other side. As the door clicked closed you could hear the faint sound of Sarah and Ellie bickering – their voices fading away as they got further and further away from the door. Letting out a heavy sigh of relief. Ellie’s signature scent lingered as the room suddenly felt cold at the absence of bodies. 

Your body fell back bouncing against the mattress as Mittens crawled on top of a dark piece of fabric making you squint at the sudden dark material contrasting your pink sheets. It was Ellie’s sweater – shooing Mittens off of the sweater, you held the material in your hands, stroking the embroidery on the front. Pulling up the sweater to your nose where the scent of her cologne lingered, assisted with the faint tinge of dated tobacco.

Holding the fabric close to your chest, giving it a squeeze in your hands, as if you were giving it a hug. The smell helps to ease the come down from your panic attack, feelings of fear, and anxiety decaying. Ellie was helping you, in a lot of ways – and she didn’t even realize it.

 You hated how her scent was enough to ground you and connect you back to reality from your overwhelming thoughts. It felt like a big game of chess, Ellie knocking over your king piece and swapping it out for one of hers.

She was starting to conquer your thoughts, but no longer in a negative connotation, your thoughts of her were evolving into adulation.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Saturday.

The mansion was busy this evening, servants and security moving fast while the decoration team had run through the two-story home being careful not to knock over the statues or fine-dining utensils. Meanwhile, you were sitting in your newly acclaimed bedroom, amidst the chaos. The room was previously your father's, remodeled for your benefit and appointing to the throne. 

Your delicate hands slid the thick short dress onto your body. It was pink and white, synching at the waist – corset style, with the ruffles and layers of white fabric peeking beneath. There was a slight sparkle to the material on your body – feeling it cling tightly as specks of glitter got onto your gleaming moisturized skin. The assistant that was hired to assist in getting you ready for the ball pulled at the strings of your corset, applying pressure to tighten them. 

With each pull back, your thoughts trailed off to Ellie – her suit, and what she would possibly wear tonight. You were undoubtedly nervous, having Royal officials meet you for the second time, which you hoped would go better than the first – but this time with the news out of everything about you. There was no more hiding who you truly were anymore. They would likely gossip about your GPA over a glass of prosecco. 

“Princess…Is everything alright?” the assistant questioned as she snapped her fingers in front of your face making you jolt at the release of pressure.

“yeah…I’m alright – sorry…just thinking” you reply sheepishly, turning around to give her a gentle smile. 

“Don’t apologize for thinking, it’s your first big day out of two! Plus you have prepared for this moment, and you have made great progress…Your grandmother is proud of you even though she doesn’t tell you, and I’m sure your father would be too”

You smiled at the mention of your Grandmother and her proudness, feeling complete at the abrupt praise. Recalling your father who you felt like you hardly knew but wish you did, building anything you know about him from pictures and stories.

“But I do…have something for you, which I feel is the right time for you to receive.” Your head whipped around almost giving you whiplash as the woman bent down to her folder picking out a white envelope that was sealed with pink wax. 

“This is from your father, it was set to be given to you on your coronation day, but I think you deserve it now…I’ll give you some privacy” holding the flimsy white envelope in your hand, eyeing the molded wax, as your fingers traced across the handwriting that belonged to your father. Hearing the door close, you quickly walked to your vanity, sitting down with your back straight up as you gently slide your finger between the thin paper, prying it open to pull out a letter. 

My little dove,

By the time you are reading this, I may be long gone, or you haven’t met me. Whether your mother chooses to tell you or not, I would like you to know that I love you and am so proud of the progress you have made that you feel goes unnoticed. If the cat is out of the bag, this would then mean that I am talking to y/n l/n metropolis vagn, Princess of Glendale, granddaughter of Elenor Metropolis Vagn, Queen of Glendale. It is a lot to take in, and I have left you with a big responsibility. Your decision will always be yours even if you feel that it is not. 

Weeks prior, leading up to my death I had an intense conversation with your grandmother about the future of the throne. Where it sounds like a curse, I pleaded and I wished that I wanted you to take my rightful place at the throne with my absence. To take my crown, to take my seat at the dinner table, I was giving you everything. I wanted you to have every last thing I owned that I couldn’t be there to give you myself. Royalty is a big thing, and at my age, when I was 17 when I met your mother, I knew that I would have not been in the best of care to run it for long. God when your mother said she was pregnant with you, I knew that she would make a sweet, headstrong but hot-headed child like the both of us. I put trust in you, just seeing the twinkle of your little doe eyes the first day out of the womb, I knew I was looking at the future Princess of Glendale.

I think that it would be wise of me to tell you the story of my first coronation day as Prince. I was late to every meeting, I totally failed at prince practice and balancing a book on my head to learn perfect posture, waved with the wrong hand – I couldn’t even tell my big spoon from my little spoon, or which fork I used first to eat. It was improper and your grandmother was honestly sick of it. I was late…extremely late to my coronation. I took your mother on a date to the gardens that day, We shared our first kiss and it was magical, more magical than the palace walls that I lived in now, it was a deep connection I will never forget. 

I took your mother to the ball, She wore pink to contrast my dark suit, but that didn’t matter. I think we complimented each other well, A pink rose corsage right above my handkerchief pocket oddly complimented too. I wore trainers to my first coronation – it was quite strange. My mother was actually sick of me. I naturally made conversation with the elders, and rulers of other places. But as soon as the crown was placed on my head, I left going with your mother to a drive-in movie while we ate messy cheeseburgers in our formal attire. It was such a sore soft moment, but at that moment I felt like I could have the best of both worlds, which I did – and I want you to know that you could have it too, I made sure of it. 

Now that this is in your possession, I want this to serve as a reminder that you are equally important. More important than some rubbish title that I rather you choose yourself 100 times over nobility. You choose where you would be the most comfortable. You are to be sweet and divine – but don’t let anyone dim your light or take your future and enjoyment away from you.

I hope this serves as a reminder of my love for you, and an appreciation for your progress, can you believe you have made it this far?

With love and acknowledgment,

Your father, Prince of Glendale, removed from the throne to stretch to his offspring.

P.S it’s okay to fall in love, live a little darling! 

Tears prickled your eyes, salted water falling down your face as you took a tissue off of the vanity being careful to dab the water to not ruin your makeup. A laugh escaped your lips, you weren’t crying of sadness you were happy. Genuinely happy.  In other ways, it felt as if your father had been giving you a hug and guiding you right along the way during your moments of doubt. You needed that. His encouragement gave you the extra boost to get you through the next two days, while you were not only battling public recognition but fully devoting yourself to the throne.

 Looking at yourself through the mirror, rolling your head, noting that it was time to fix your hair, which was currently in a half-up half-down look – placing the crystalized small tiara on your head. Sticking the note that Grandma left on the crown saying ‘just a warmup crown ;)’ on the cleaned glass. Your ringtone runs the air, answering swiftly to hear a raspy voice filling the air.

“Princess…I am outside the gate and there is some guy yelling at me that I have the wrong house” You groaned knowing she was definitely talking about Philip who was the same person who gave you a hard time the first time you visited the mansion. “First of all, don’t call me that…second I’ll be there hold tight”

“Hey! I’m—” you cut Ellie off by hanging up the phone with a swift click to the red button. You were nervous to see Ellie, the thought of what she could possibly be wearing stormed your thoughts, imagining a nicely fitting suit on her body, her hair free of any elastic. 

You slid on your pink kitten heals – it was time to put on your acting face. 

Right hand on the door knob, pausing to have a moment with yourself. You imagined that you were on a boat, the boat on sea rocking in the cold cerulean sea splashing its salty wakes against the curvature of the boat. Before a large tide comes in, waves crash — drowning out your boat. Slamming the door open, you pushed yourself forward dragging your body down the steps and being careful to not fall in your heels. 

Right foot…step…left foot…step until you reached the door. 

Waving with your right hand, proper, as your way of saying hello to the decoration team. 1 hour until guest arrival and you were feeling rancid. The morning tea in your veins pumps free adrenaline into you – giving you a slight pep in your step. 

Running in your heels, which was also, unprincess-like, you reached the gate yelling at Philip through the intercom to let Ellie in. Hearing the locks loosening up as the drawback on the door revealed Ellie, in all her glory. She actually showed up…for you. Ellie was wearing a black suit, her white button down peaking under that was slightly open at her chest. Chuck Taylor classics on her feet which made you laugh. Thinking back to your dad's letter about him wearing trainers to his coronation day. You found it funny – ironic almost but expected that Ellie wouldn’t own dress shoes. Your brain headed back to the words your dad has gracefully written.

She wore pink to contrast my dark suit, but that didn’t matter. I think we complimented eachother well

This time, it was your pink dress to contrast her dark suit, and to you, this didn’t matter either. You too thought you complimented each other. Ellie walked with confidence towards you, as she bowed – one hand folded at her stomach the other behind her back as she bend her body down at you, “Your Highness” 

Ellie was waiting for your approval. “God, Ellie…you’re such a kiss ass!” you snickered in amusement finding her figure bowed down before you. “You may stand now.”

“You do that again, I’ll make sure Philip drags you out of here” You finish making Ellie roll her eyes. Her gaze softened at the sight of you, eyes trailing from the tiara on your head down to your dress.

“You’ve looked worse” Ellie shrugged not wanting to fully give you the satisfaction of getting a compliment out of her. Ellie thought you looked stunning, a faint shade of red dusting over her cheeks, as she took in your outfit.

“Geez didn’t know you showered!” You hissed at the girl with a scoff, almost ruining the moment making Ellie throw a hand up in disbelief at your words. “There she is” Ellie sang as if she were expecting this to come out of your mouth any minute. 

You looked at the girl fully this time, her Converse were dirty — of course not that you cared, and her hair was loose from any free restraints. Now noticing the absence of the corsage pinned near her handkerchief pocket, you stumbled across the cigarette that was tucked neatly behind her ear. Mouth tip facing forward.

“No, absolutely not” Ellie was confused by your sudden protesting, trying to swat your hand away as you reached for the cigarette, chucking it into the water fountain next to the two of you. 

“Hey! That—”

“There will be no smoking on the mansion grounds! You hear me! Ellie, I’m so serious and I’m asking you just this once for a solid 5 hours not to” you pleaded. Normally you wouldn’t care but for an event like this with catty old rich people, you wanted to bypass the extra gossip. Ellie let in a dramatic inhale, looking around at the greenery of the yard the two of you were in. 

“Yeah...yeah sure I could do that” Ellie cleared her throat, and her hand was tucked in her pocket — the other at the nape of her neck flicking her hair, she rocked back and forth on her toes. 

“Thank you…” your voice was now at a whisper, Ellie’s eyes were beautiful next to the greenery of the garden, and you were almost enamored by how put together she looked. You didn’t expect her to pull through as well as she did, but you were glad she would at least be there to save you from driving yourself crazy in the mansion. 

You rubbed your glossed lips together, trying to find the right words to say at the moment. “If we are gonna do this, we have to do it the right way or else we totally jeopardize everything — poof! Princess had to hire a fake date, we don’t want that”

Ellie nodded in agreement. You stepped in closer, reaching into Ellie’s handkerchief pocket as you started to explain the rules, reaching for your own dress to detach the corsage that you pinned there on your way out. Taking the delicate rose and threading it slightly above the pocket on her suit. 

The two of your bodies were so close that Ellie could smell your floral and vanilla scent which contrasted with her salted musky wood, making her hitch her throat. The view of your eyes made her slightly antsy at the feeling of your body closer to hers. Instinctively Ellie didn’t know what to do with her hands, panicking as she rested them against the boning of the corset on your waist.

“You can kiss me, though I don’t advise it, hold my hand, walk straight, say excuse me before you end the conversation, no cursing…Stay close to me — it’s very easy to get lost and we don’t want that, no snarky comments, no smoking but you know that, smile” You were speaking fast, Ellie barely catching any of it as she was too busy investing her vision at your hands that were working magic around her suit, slightly doing two buttons for safety. 

“Anything else, Princess”

“Did you even catch any of that?” You question, the faint click of the corsage filling the space between the two of you. Ellie gave you a dopey smile, “Honestly, your tiara was crooked the whole time” 

It was Ellie’s turn to fix you up, slightly centering the tiara on your head with great delicacy, trailing her hands down your face and to your shoulders with an eyebrow raise. You groaned, ignoring the girl, dragging her hand to follow closely behind you. Ellie found part of it to be like a fairy tale dream. The shit that only happens in movies. From the overly large mansion to the obnoxious shrubbery and freshly kept grass it was hard to believe that your grandmother even lived nearby. 

“Don’t speak unless spoken to, and stop slouching you look like a hunchback” You whispered, this time grabbing Ellie’s hand in yours as the two of you walked side by side. Ellie felt a tingle shoot up at her arm at your sudden hand grab, shaking her head slightly to respond to your comment. “Never thought the day would come where you are not only checking my posture…but holding my hand as well, am I going mad?” 

You stopped walking to give her an exasperated look, “really? It’s business” The two of you kept walking, making your way to the dining area — almost reaching the corridor when your grandma stops in front of the two of you. She was giving you a stern look before looking over to Ellie. Flicking her eyes back and forth between the two of you. A faint smile as she looked between the two of you.

“You’re just like your father dear” The elder spoke up, putting her ringed finger up to her mouth in awe. “I know”

Elenor cleared her throat. “So who is your friend” Her field of vision shot to Ellie’s hand that was tightly gripped into yours. The two of your shoulders touching — almost scared shitless.

“Uh, Grandma, this is my girlfriend, Ellie Williams, Ellie this is my Grandma, Elenor the Queen of Glendale” You spoke up gesturing the two to each other, Nudging Ellie with your arm queuing for her to speak. 

“H-h..It’s a pleasure to meet you” Ellie coughed, “Ma’am” Ellie replicated the bow that she had shown you early, this time getting up quicker. Your hand suddenly felt clammy. Realizing that the moisture was not from your hand but from Ellie’s, who had been drowning in anxiousness next to you. So you squeezed it, giving the girl a soft look of reassurance.

“Oh please, you don’t have to bow Ellie! It’s so wonderful to meet you — aren’t you adorable” Your grandma reached over to squeeze Ellie’s cheeks making them a lot redder than they were before.

You winced at the interaction “Grandma…please” you used your free hand to swat hers away, continuing to look around the room to find an escape out. “We actually are going to go to the garden for a bit, have Philip come to fetch us when the guest arrives” 

Giving the woman a faint smile, you drag Ellie away, the redhead trailing behind you like a lost puppy. “Nice meeting you!” Ellie shouted making you shake your head at her outburst.

“And another rule…no yelling” You snapped, walking up to one of the servant trays to steal two glasses of champagne, handing Ellie a glass. The two of you exited through the backyard of the mansion, walking alongside the cobblestone into the garden. It was filled with different kinds of flowers: roses, chrysanthemums, orchids, and hydrangeas. It was a vibrant sight. Enough to make your eyes hurt as the sun was setting. 

Sitting next to the fountain, Ellie doing the same but across from you, you closed your eyes amidst the silence, letting the faint sound of the birds chirping guide you – picking up conversation again.

“Welcome to my world” you sang sarcastically, Ellie didn’t bother to heckle you – rather she took this time to see how many differences the two of you had. Ellie was a troublemaker since she was very young…known for picking fights and consistently butting heads with people. The day Joel brought home an anger management class pamphlet Ellie wanted to scream. It’s not that she didn’t think she had issues but she just couldn’t manage her anger properly – mad at the world consistently and it won’t leave her mind like an exposed wound. So Ellie tried one and tried another – realizing she actually needed to communicate what she was feeling if she wanted to be better. 

Then Ellie thought of you, certainly too good for her, a pretty girl academically smart and soothing in her eyes. That night at the rooftop didn’t make sense to Ellie, it didn’t make sense to her that a girl like you, could like a girl like her. 

“Got a cigarette?”

Ellie snickered “Oh now you want one, I got none for you, I don’t give cigarettes to princesses” Ellie dug into her chest pocket digging inside the fabric to bring out the familiar black lighter and her handy pack of Marlboro reds. Taking out a piece, but your request prior to the ball event made her stop to look at you for approval. “You can have one…go on, smoke it! This is more stressful than I thought”

Ellie shrugged at your response, setting a flame to the burning tobacco, exhaling with ease. You went steady with the champagne, taking a few sips – then larger gulps almost matching the way Ellie was swallowing the cigarette whole.

“Why do you do it?” you questioned. Rotating the liquids in the glass. “Do what?” 

“Smoke” your voice was barely a whisper. Ellie blew out the smoke away from your face – as always before tapping some of the ash away, bringing a hand up to scratch her cheek to really think about what she wanted to tell you. Ellie was going to throw in the white towel again.

“Helps me, uh fixate on something other than the emotion I feel, became like a stabilizer – oral fixation typa shit”

Ellie was honest with you, which you could tell from the tone of her voice, it was serious and she was being transparent. “Oh…” 

You were preparing to bring the champagne glass up to your lips again when Ellie stopped you, snatching the glass from your hand, tossing the leftover liquid onto the floor, “No more for you…Don’t want our Princess drunk now do we”

You rolled your eyes, “It was keeping my body warm” Ellie gave you a side-eye as she began to unbutton her suit jacket, cursing under her breath as she slid the black jacket off of her arms, raising an eyebrow before throwing it at your face “Ow!”

“You’re welcome” This time you didn’t respond, putting the jacket on while putting your arms through the sleeves. Cold arms feel warmer by the feeling of the fabric around you like a blanket. Similar to yesterday morning when Ellie had left her sweater at your dorm. 

“Can we…um” You rubbed your hands together, before locking them together “Can we talk about the night at the rooftop?” Ellie felt her heart sink, putting the cigarette up to her mouth one last time – tapping out the stick to stand up and move closer to where you sat on the brick exterior of the fountain.

“I think I owe that to you..”

You hummed, allowing Ellie to move in close to you, her knee was knocking against your own, as you looked at the girl with such love and admiration despite knowing the hefty conversation that was on the way. Ellie put a hand out to reach for your own, resting her hand in your lap. Webbed through your fingers.

“If I’m being honest…After it happened and my resentment started, I thought about you every night since, I…I think I truly was incapable of being honest with myself and kinda ripping the bandaid off to know that I could be liked. I enjoyed the kiss, do I regret it? Hell fucking no” Ellie began, taking the moment to laugh, “My arguing was a by-product of my flight or fight response absolutely going bonkers at the possibility that Abby could have you or you would reject m–”

“Why would I reject you?”

Ellie blinked rapidly “Sorry…What?”

“I like you! Are you joking, ever since you shook my hand I knew that you were different. But then once the kiss was over, you basically didn’t want anything to do with me, I thought, I made you up in my head” You stroked Ellie’s hand in your lap for comfort, this time Ellie letting go to squeeze your thigh. “The way I imagined you to act was just a result of what I made you to be in my head” You ramble making Ellie nod her head almost ashamed at the way she treated you months prior after the situation dissolved. 

“God I was such an asshole” Ellie winced looking away from you, applying faint pressure to your thigh 

“If you were one then so was I…”

“Did you mean to say ‘I like you’ in the present tense?” Ellie blurted out, eyeing your facial expressions to see if she caught what you were saying right – or if it was a mistake on your part. 

“I did say that didn’t I…” You mumbled, bringing a hand up to your mouth as if you were scrambling to organize your thoughts to prevent yourself from saying anything embarrassing or exposing yourself even further. Ellie’s gaze softened, 

“It’s okay if you did” Ellie whispered, lifting a hand to rub at your cheek. The two of you look at each other longingly. You didn’t say anything further – feeling your body lean into Ellie’s until her lips were directly onto yours, closing all gaps between the two of you. Her peppermint moisturized lips locked with your own, feeling Ellie’s hands shoot up to your face for extra support. The kiss was long, the two of you not being to detach from each other, the kiss was a hungry one. Ellie’s tongue grazed yours as the kiss got deeper…and deeper. A splash of the water from the fountain made the two of you abruptly pull away, shaky breathes as the two of you stared at each other for a prolonged period of time, there was no more hatred left in Ellie’s eyes and you knew she didn’t feel the instant regret like she felt the night of the roof-top.

“You gonna tell me to not tell anyone” you whisper to Ellie, giving a slight nudge at what happened the last time the two of you shared a kiss

“I’ve learned my lesson…I’m not hiding you” Ellie spoke softly, bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek. The soft moment between the two of you is ruined by the clear of the throat, to reveal Philip in all black standing in front of the two of you. The two of you jumped away from each other as you looked at the ground embarrassed.

“Now that the two of you have stopped macking, the Queen has requested your return there are some people she would like you to meet” Philip states bluntly, turning on his heel to walk away from the two of you. Ellie and yourself give each other a glance before letting out a fit of laughs at the awkwardness of the situation. Ellie stands up, putting a hand out for you to grab allowing her hand to help you stand up. 

With Your hand around Ellie’s everything suddenly felt like it was moving into place, no more need to stress or panic – it felt natural. As the two of you walked through the garden you thought about your dad's letter in admiration, you wanted the best of both worlds and you sure as hell got it.

“Hey, Ellie?” you whispered as Ellie only hummed in response.

“Wanna leave early after this and grab some food?” 

[libby-for-life]

can we PLEASE get a part 2 of Adam being given to Lucifer and Lilith as a peace offering, maybe it would be about the two yandere trying to woo Adam, OH or maybe throwing a party for him introducing him as the second queen of hell

My my. You are a genius, my dear. Though I was thinking more Consort to the King and Queen. Read part one of the Deal.

Adam was confused, to say the least. Didn't they hate him? Didn't they leave him? Didn't they want him dead?

But as he was hugged by Lucifer and Lilith in the back of a limousine, he couldn't help but feel very confused. He shivered when he felt Lucifer's claws gently run through his hair and how Lilith's soothing humming filled the car.

"You're still so beautiful," Lucifer said, hugging him and Lilith brushed a hand over his toned stomach.

"Wait. Just wait." Adam gasped out as he felt hands roam over him. They stopped immediately and looked at him in concern. "Why are you acting like you want me all of a sudden? You made it quite clear in the Garden you didn't want me." Adam felt the hurt, bitterness, and self-loathing seep into his body.

They were quiet for a moment before he felt a clawed hand pull his face down to Lucifer's level. "Adam, we never wanted you to feel that way and we're sorry we did. We wanted you with us, but the moment we tried, Michael banned us from the Garden." Lucifer explained.

"Everything happened so fast," Lilith added. "And by the time we were banished to Hell, we had already lost you."

Adam refused to cry. What if this was a lie to lead him into a false sense of security? He had to be resilient. He had to be strong-willed. But as he felt hands caress him so lovingly, Adam felt himself melting. God forgive him, but he was a sucker for touch.

The next few months were filled with confusion and longing. He didn't trust Lucifer and Lilith but they were the only ones keeping him safe from the dangers of Hell. What if he refused them too much and he was kicked out of their home?

So when Lilith kissed his cheek, it took all of his self-control to not run away. She looked deep into his eyes and she frowned.

"I'm sorry. I went too far. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." She didn't try to kiss him again but she also didn't stop saying she loved him. Neither of them did.

Slowly, but surely, Adam realized they weren't just keeping him as some sort of sick entertainment. No one could be this good at acting and not show any tells.

So, Adam allowed them to touch him. He allowed them to give him presents instead of refusing them. He allowed them to say the words, "I love you."

And one day, he said it back. Two years. It took him two years of them consistently loving him unconditionally, but when they ate breakfast together and Lucifer gave him some pancakes to eat, his favorite, the Devil told Adam that he loved him.

Asam smiled with a blush staining his cheeks and shyly replied, "I love you, too." Lucifer dropped his syrup and Lilith choked on her tea. "What?" Lucifer asked in a small voice.

"I love you. Both of you."

Lilith smiled and hugged him close while Lucifer teared up and clung to his side. "We love you. We love you so much, Adam."

Adam didn't notice the obsession growing in their eyes. He didn't notice how they held him possessively, demon features poking out. He just felt safe and protected.

"Are you sure this looks good on me? I'm not exactly...the right shape to be wearing this." Adam mumbled, embarrassed. He was wearing a short gold dress that hugged his chubby figure. Three years in Hell and he put on some weight from the treats and gifts through food he was given. He was by no means obese, but he was definitely chubby. He also grew more demonic, his soul becoming corrupted due to being exposed to Hell for so long. He now resembled a ram, with small curly horns, a fluffy black tail, hooves, and ram ears. Ears that Lucifer and Lilith loved playing with.

"Oh, Adam. You look beautiful no matter what size you are." Lilith said as she applied makeup to her lover. Adam smiled, blushing deeply at her comment.

"I agree. Besides, it just means more to hold." Lucifer said with a smirk before caressing a hand over his love handles. Adam squeaked and swatted his hand playfully.

They were getting ready for a big party. A party that was officially introducing Adam as the King and Queen of Hell's Consort. They wanted him to be their Queen as well, but Adam pointed out that was not how the ruling system worked. He read up on the ways of Hell's hierarchy and he did not want anyone rioting because the system wasn't being followed.

"This was the system you made, might I add," Adam said when Lucifer just said they could change it. "We want them to accept me. Not be angry because you don't follow your own rules."

They finally agreed to Adam being their Consort before making sure they knew he was still important and not less than them just because he wasn't a Queen with Lilith.

Adam honestly didn't care as long as he spent all his time with his lovers.

They walked into the Palace's ballroom where all of Hell's most important figures danced or talked with each other. They looked up and bowed before the King and Queen, but looked at Adam, confused as to why a sheep demon was walking alongside the most important figures in Hell.

"Everyone. Might I have your attention?" Lucifer said, gaining the room's attention. He brought Adam forward as he blushed under the attention. "This is Adam. He is Lilith's and mine's Consort." Several gasps had filled the room and some really looked at Adam, sizing him up.

Adam tried not to squirm under their piercing gaze.

"Now, if anyone has a problem, I don’t give a shit," Lucifer said with a grin. "Let the party begin!"

Adam was having fun! He danced with Lilith and Lucifer, ate good food, and even talked with some of the Hellborn Aristocrats but found them a bit judgemental.

It was a quarter to midnight when it happened. Adam was drinking some champagne and relaxing in a chair when he heard voices behind him.

"He doesn't look very pretty next to them. Far too fat next to the King and Queen of Hell."

"And so plain! Even makeup can't fix a fatass. A pig in a dress is still a pig."

"Do you think they even have sex with him?"

"Do you think he breaks the bed?"

Chuckles and whispers filled Adam's ears and he felt himself blush in shame. He knew it. He didn't deserve to stand next to demons so pretty and powerful.

"Adam? What's wrong?" Lucifer asked as he sat down next to him. "Nothing. Want to dance?" Adam tried to change the subject. He should have known Lucifer knew him too well to be swayed.

"Adam. You can tell me." Adam didn't say anything but Lucifer must have caught the whispering. His eyes turned red and he looked five seconds away from tearing them apart.

"Lucifer. Let it go. I don't want you killing them." Adam said firmly. Lucifer looked ready to argue but reluctantly agreed. "Fine. I won't kill them. But I want you to come with me." Adam was led away to a spare bedroom, but not before a quick mind message to Lilith was made.

'Some scum are insulting Adam. Take out the trash.'

Lilith smirked as an image of the demons responsible for making her lamb cry was revealed. She gently excused herself from the demon she was talking to before making her way over to the demons laughing in a corner. Time to make a public example.

Everyone turned when they heard screams fill the ballroom. They turned to see Lilith holding three decapitated heads in one gloved hand. She was smiling and looked at everyone as if she hadn't just brutally killed three powerful members of the Goetia Household.

"Now, these three died because they insulted my Consort. That simply won't do." She burnt the corpses and the heads in purple fire. "Anyone who insults my Consort will suffer the same fate. Are we clear?"

Everyone was quick to give them their reply while she laughed. "Wonderful! Have you tried the cake? Simply divine!"

"Ah~!" Adam moaned as he felt fingers dig into his hair and pull. He was always sensitive to touch like this.

"My beautiful lamb, I love you and your body." Lucifer purred and Adam moaned when a kiss was placed on his cheek. "Say you're the cutest lamb, my love. Say it."

"I'm the cutest lamb!" Adam cried when his neck was bitten. "Good boy~."

Lilith had told him that she had killed the demons who hurt Adam and even showed an image of their burnt ashes before it was cleaned up along with their blood.

No one could hurt Adam. No one.

"Ready to get out of this dress, my little lamb?"

"Ah~!"

[roosteraloha]

infirmarian

jake seresin x reader

wc - approx 7.2k

warnings - angst, general discussion of sickness, description of vomit/throwing up, brief description of panic attacks.

disclaimer - ANY BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! I also DO NOT give permission for any of my works to be copied, shared, compiled, translated or posted onto other sites!!

a/n - this is wrote itself. being chronically in pain sucks, sorry it took so long to get out, been the longest flare up of my life :(

reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated!!

A few days had passed since Jake had received any communication from you, you’d have your schedule rammed full of new work projects and meetings, not leaving much time for a social life, at least the kind that you longed for. This wasn’t something uncommon, Jake himself had a hectic day to day schedule, and the addition of your new work responsibilities was something that neither of you had enough to fully consider the amount of time that you’d have left to share with each other.

Fresh off an eight week deployment, Jake was eager to spend time with you however he could, swallowing down the bitter taste of disappointment that he came home to you being far busier than you’d let on in your limited communication. With only a few weeks left before you’d get back to your usual schedule, you had gotten to the point of longing for Jake’s company too. Eight weeks having been too long to not be able to hug him and snuggle up to him after another draining and exhausting day.

Jake had been home for close to two weeks when he started to see signs that you weren’t doing too well. You were overworking yourself again, and there were tell-tale signs that you were about to get sick. Something that you would never admit, choosing to deny the facts, even when you’re exhausted and tucked in bed with a fever.

Slipping his key into the lock, Jake frowns. The door is already unlocked. This normally wouldn’t be a cause for concern, but today, Jake hadn’t expected you to be home already. You were meant to be at work, at least that was what you had told him in between many incessant kisses this morning as Jake got himself ready. So he could have got confused, too distracted by the beauty he had in his bed, not that he would ever complain about your company.

Tossing his keys onto the hall table, Jake calls out to you. He has a small smile flickering on his lips, Jake could get used to this. It felt nice to have someone to come home too, it felt right. Wandering down the hall, Jake peers into the living room, face lighting up when he sees you curled up on the couch, typing away on your laptop.

Coming up behind you, he places a soft kiss on the top of your head. You had a rule about Jake coming home after flying, he would reek of jet fuel, and while that had slowly become a comforting part of your life, mainly because it reminded you of him, it was a smell that permeated fabrics. There was one incident with a throw blanket, luckily one you didn’t like, Jake had used it one day after a particularly tough day in training, only for you to pick up the next day and the smell was so strong, it may as well have been a rag for him to use on preflight checks. Weeks had passed and no matter how many times you washed it, the smell remained. Now, it was that Jake would shower before leaving base and then change as soon as he got home.

Quickly changing into some sweatpants, Jake joins on the couch, legs outstretched onto the sectional, an arm loosely thrown around your shoulders to pull you into him. Jake eyebrows furrow when he makes contact with your skin. You normally ran cold, hence the otherwise insane amount of blankets and oversized hoodies that you owned, but your skin was burning under Jake’s touch.

He shifts to get a better look at you, your cheeks are flushed, a light sheen on your forehead, your hair is knotty. All signs that something isn’t right. Jake quickly mentally ran through any important dates in your relationship, then running through any mentions of tensions or meetings at work when he failed to recall missing anything. Pressing his palm to your forehead, Jake’s concern grows, you’re overheated, not quite a fever, probably just dehydrated, which was especially likely considering the fact that you probably hadn’t moved around much since you got up and settled on the couch to work.

You still hadn’t actually looked over at Jake since he got home, too invested in furiously typing away, filling in countless mindless admin forms that your coworkers were too lazy to do. The only acknowledgment that you had given to Jake, was a distracted hum when he asked about your day. To be perfectly honest, you were in a work focused daze. These forms needed to be done by the fast approaching deadline, and not a single one of your coworkers had bothered to even try to follow the new formatting, leaving you to pick up the slack. Not like you already had your plate full with the rest of your role.

Jake leans against the kitchen counter thoughtfully, observing you work in your stressed state. It was obvious that you were overworking yourself, more than usual, and quite frankly, more than your coworkers and managers would acknowledge.

After mentally processing through the potential options to help you, Jake settled on what he is hoping will work. If not, he’d have to pull out more drastic measures, which he’d strongly prefer not to have to do. You’d hate him for it, and honestly, he’s hate himself for letting you get so bad in the first place.

Pushing himself off the counter, Jake approaches you, albeit a bit cautiously, he wasn’t entirely sure how you’d react. You almost seem paler than before, and you’re sniffling intermittently, eyes bloodshot and dry from staring at your computer screen for way too long.

"Sweetheart, please stop. You've done enough work, you need to rest." Jake’s low and quiet tone cuts through your daze, your eyes flickering over to him for the first time since he got home. Sighing in relief, Jake smiles softly at you, which falters when he realises that you’re not exactly looking at him, as much as looking in his direction. But that alone was progress and Jake could work with that.

Gently reaching out, Jake pulls your laptop away from your lap, saving your work quickly, then turning it off and placing it closed on the wooden coffee table. This grabs your attention, eyes darting straight to meet Jake’s concerned gaze. You open your mouth to protest but his stern look has any complaints dying on your tongue. Blinking up at him, it takes you a few moments to realise that Jake had taken your work away, the panic and stress soon taking over your features.

You scramble helplessly towards your laptop, Jake’s grip around your waist pinning you to his side. A frustrated cry rips from your throat, clawing at Jake’s arm, begging him to let you go. ���No! No, no, no, no. JAKE NO! I need to finish my work!” Your voice comes out weak and wracked with emotion, mainly frustration and hurt that Jake wasn’t letting you finish what you’d started.

Jake’s response is to curl his arm tighter around you, his other hand coming up to caress the side of your face soothingly. He mummers quietly in your ear, hoping to help calm you down before you got yourself into a worse state, “Darlin’. Darlin’, look at me. You need to rest, trust me.”

There’s a moment where all you can hear is the breathing of you both, processing Jake’s gentle coos. A soft whine escapes your lips, “But…”

Jake’s grip loosens a fraction as he shifts to get a proper look at your face, fixing you with a firm stare, “Stop complaining, sweetheart.”

Huffing, you instantly relax in his hold, snuggling back into his chest, burying your head in the crook of his neck when he pulls you close. Finally having gotten through to you, all the tension leaves Jake’s body. While he still had a long way to go with you, to try and get you to understand it was okay to take breaks, that working yourself until you burn out is no way to go through life.

The sheer exhaustion of the stress you’d been under the past few weeks was definitely catching up to you. Jake kept a soothing touch on the back of your head, holding you close to his chest, a quick look down at you told him you needed this rest more than he initially realised. You could barely keep your eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time, yawning softly at regular intervals, snuggling closer to him every time.

Feeling content with you settled so comfortably on his chest, Jake exhaled deeply, leaning his head back against the sofa. Closing his eyes, Jake’s breath evens out, yes he had a long way to go to get you to rest properly, but this with you looking so peaceful laying on him, well, Jake could get used to this.

Dinner was takeout, Jake being too tired himself to cook and secretly didn’t want to disturb your sleep while he attempted an old Seresin family recipe. Settling on your favourite, Jake only moved to wake you after the food arrived and he’d dished out the portions.

You were still asleep when Jake came back, still curled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, wearing an old sweatshirt of his. A small smile flickered across his lips, as Jake’s heart swooned at seeing you so peaceful and wearing his clothes, something you’d initially been too insecure to try.

His smile was short lived, you’d barely roused from your slumber while Jake was busy in the kitchen, or while he was doing odd jobs around the house while waiting for the food to be delivered. There were more and more red flags to Jake that there was something more serious going on with you, than simply being overworked.

A small frown of concern lingered on his face when you barely responded when he shook you gently to try and get you to eat something. Then, when you eventually woke fully, you declined the food, pushing the dishes away, choosing to move away from him, curling the opposite direction instead.

Jake, drawing this up to your over-exhaustion for now, just took your plate away, carefully portioning the food into some tupperware, hopeful that you’d be hungry later. Turning back to the couch, he frowns again, you still remained curled tightly away from him.

Displeased and slightly frustrated with your decision, Jake returns to your side, shaking you awake, despite your groans in protest. When you finally open your eyes, the harsh glare you send his way has Jake internally wincing. He hated to see you like this, but deep down he knew this was the only way to get through to you.

“Darlin’…”

He trails off, unsure of what else to say to you. His brows pull in together, forming a deeper frown. You weren’t okay, he just needed you to admit it. Glancing down at your clenched hands above the blanket, he takes note of the slight tremble of your hands, eyes darting up to your face, searching your eyes for any answers.

There’s a glistening to your eyes that wasn’t there before when you finally make eye contact with Jake. You felt the panic building, like an icy hand gripping your chest tightly. Your mind running a million miles a second, unable to pinpoint a single cohesive thought. Tears streaming down your face, gasping to catch your breath. Reaching out a shaky hand, you try and catch Jake’s wrist, desperate for any direct contact with him, seeking his comfort any way you could.

Jake is immediately by your side, pulling you close to his side, “It’s okay sweetheart. You’re okay darlin’.” Your teary eyes focus on his worry stricken face, Jake was blindsided but your sudden emotional reaction, he knew something was wrong, you’d been withdrawn, but he hadn’t expected you to be so quick to break down the minute he pressed you for answers. “Darlin’. What’s going on?”

You shrug, looking away from him, not really knowing why you feel the way you do. Jake sighs heavily, sometimes he knows you better than you knew yourself, “It's okay, you don’t have to tell me now. Just breathe, nice and slowly, okay?” You hum softly, nodding gently against his chest, “I promise you, you don’t have to hide this stuff from me. I’m always gonna be here for you darlin’.”

Smiling softly down at you, Jake presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, pulling you closer to his side, “Not that I don’t love being used as your personal heated pillow darlin’, but I think we’d both be far more comfortable in bed.” You giggle softly, but agree, Jake was a comfortable pillow of lean muscle, but your bed was so soft and comfortable, and with Jake there to hold you close, you couldn’t think of anything better.

“You’re adorable when you’re so sleepy darlin’.” Jake croons softly, brushing loose strands of your hair back behind your ear tenderly. You shrug playfully, with mock offence at his words, “It’s not my fault that you’re so comfortable to lay on Jake!”

Jake tries and fails to keep a straight face, soon joining you in soft laughter, shaking his head at your antics. He much preferred you to be this happier version of yourself than the one that had a panic attack on the sofa after a stressful work week.

You whine wearily when Jake leads you towards the adjoining bathroom rather than getting straight into bed, which you’d much prefer. The sheer exhaustion from the past few weeks had finally caught up to you, you couldn’t help but yawn as Jake lifted you to sit up on the counter, your usual place when you’d get ready together, whether the pair of you were getting ready for the day, or just going to bed.

You huff heavily, annoyed that Jake seems to be taking his sweet time getting around to whatever he was doing, moving to the edge of the counter, ready to just jump down and head to bed yourself. “We’re almost done, love. Just stay a little bit longer.” Jake’s soothing tone, paired with the calming circles he was gently rubbing on your knee, has you shuffling back on the counter, resting your head back tiredly against the cold mirror.

You must’ve started to doze off, as the next thing you know, Jake is stirring you gently, a soft squeeze on your shoulder, and a gentle touch on your cheek. You groan, eyes flickering shut again quickly at the harsh light in the bathroom. “Can we go to bed now?” Your soft whines have Jake chuckling as he moves to pick you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest, smiling contently to himself when you bury your face in his neck, hiding from the bright lights.

“You’re so cute when you’re so tired.” Jake teases as he places you gently onto the bed, wrapping the blanket and sheets around you, before climbing in next to you and doing the same. He hums thoughtfully as he feels you snuggle closely up to his side, tangling your ice cold feet with his own. You prop your chin up on his shoulder, watching your boyfriend who was deep in thought.

“Jake…” Your voice is a quiet whisper, not wanting to startle him from his thoughts, knowing how he could react when startled by others in the past. You only continue when he hums softly in acknowledgement, looking down at you, a soft smile appearing on his face when he takes in your concerned expression. Jake didn’t need you to continue, he could read you like a book on most occasions, especially when you were this sleepy and worn out.

He shakes his head calmly, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead when your concerned frown doesn’t fade. “I promise you that I’m okay darlin’. I’d tell you if I wasn’t, you know I would.” Pursing your lips, you study his face carefully, for any signs that he wasn’t being one hundred percent honest with you about this. Finding no obvious signs of dishonesty, you nod once, kissing his cheek softly and nestling your head back on his chest, inhaling his comforting scent deeply, sighing softly with content.

You feel Jake take a few deep breaths, then tighten his arm around your body, holding you securely against his own. It was something he’d started doing very early on in your relationship, and something the both of you had grown to love and crave whenever you cuddled together. The intimacy of being so close to each other was something you hadn’t known you’d love so much, but having Jake so close to you, him holding you close, well that something you would never tire of. And for Jake, he would forever be grateful to be able to go to sleep holding the love of his life, and her still be there in the same position, tucked comfortably into his side, the next morning. No matter how much the pair of you moved around in the night, he still got to wake with you by his side, and now, Jake couldn’t see himself spending his life any differently.

Waking up the next day, your throat is scratchy, eyes burning and bloodshot. Groaning, you snooze your blaring alarm, sending a quick text of ‘Hey Jake, I’m not feeling too great, can we push date night?’, to your boyfriend. While technically you lived together, Jake would often spend evenings at his best friend Javy’s house, it was closer to base and helped him to unwind from a stressful workday with someone who understood the ins and outs of the job. You didn’t take any offence to this, as Jake had been expecting you too, it was a way for Jake to unwind, and honestly, it was probably why your relationship was so healthy. Jake got the time to process his feelings, to then be able to get home to you and express them in a healthy manner. You would always support Jake’s out of work time with his squadron, it was almost like a second family, something you all desperately needed after the uranium mission.

It wasn’t uncommon to go to bed alone, especially if Jake had been having a stressful run at work, only to wake with a strong arm wrapped carefully around you, holding you close to his chest, your head resting on him like a pillow. You admired the relationship that Jake and Javy shared, the pair had been through a lot in such a short time, and where most people would have drifted apart, it only solidified their need for each other, feeling and acting more and more like brothers with each day they spent together. But it was when Jake came home to you acting off, that his worries couldn’t be soothed by his wingman. You were everything that Jake had ever dreamed of, and more if he was being honest, and when you acted not like yourself, it set alarm bells ringing for Jake. He had just found you, and in no world was he ready to lose you, especially not so soon.

Jake had been preoccupied all day, you had been withdrawn all evening, and slept through your first alarm, the one you routinely set so you could kiss Jake goodbye. It was something that Jake had grown to love, a simple addition to his morning routine, something he looked forward to each time he awoke to his alarm, getting to kiss you before he left always put him in a better mood, something that his fellow squad members had noticed, and perhaps teased him for.

Javy was the one who approached Jake about his sullen mood, there had been plenty of opportunities for Jake to tease and antagonise the others, yet the absence of Jake’s cocky tone over the radio was concerning to all. Jake’s demeanour had been so off that you woke to a string of concerned texts from Javy, asking if you were okay, if Jake and his family were alright, and the last, rather frantic message demanding to know if you’d broken up with him. If you didn’t feel as bad as you did, you would be texting Javy back with just as much concern for your boyfriend.

You busied yourself with as much work as you could while at home, cleaning, laundry, mindless admin for your job. The occasional tickle of a cough in the back of your throat, an unnecessary reminder that you were unwell. All you’d wanted to do since Jake got back from his deployment was to spend as much quality time together as physically possible, and being sick wasn’t in your plan.

Truthfully thinking, it was probably a bug that Jake had brought back with him. Unfortunately for you, Jake had an absurdly strong immune system, he rarely was ill, often just carrying the bug home to you, which consequently caused you to be unwell. You had a decently strong immune system, but the intensity of your symptoms often left you bedridden with a fever for days.

Gently tucking a strand of loose hair from your messy sleep hair, Jake finally voices his concerns, “Don’t even think about going to work today.” It takes you a few long moments to process Jake’s words, to which you immediately start to protest, mumbling on and on about how you had to work, denying that you weren’t feeling your best.

Furrowing his brows, Jake is again growing more and more concerned about you. Deciding with a different tactic, Jake reaches out to slowly halt you buttoning up your work uniform, “Would you rather go to work, and suffer all day, because you obviously don’t feel well, or stay in bed and get cuddles and forehead kisses and watch movies with me?”

The halting of your weak movements and silence has Jake relaxing, he knew you well enough to know that you were giving in, thinking over the two scenarios. You never could get enough cuddles and kisses from Jake. Never.

Turning slowly towards him, you look sheepishly up at Jake, hands tugging at your uniform, a desperate attempt to get out of the restrictive and stiff material and back into Jake’s sweatshirt. A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips, on the rare occasion you did get sick, you were so needy, having to have Jake nearby at all times as a comforting presence.

Helping you out of your uniform, Jake carefully pulls his sweater back over your head, kissing the crown of your head lovingly. A soft whine slips through your lips, the sudden movements making your head spin, fingers digging into Jake’s arms, desperate for something to ground you.

“Get back in bed. Now. You don’t need to be up and about right now. You need to rest darlin’.” Too lightheaded to even attempt to argue, you allow Jake to gently manhandle you back into bed, tucking your comforter up to your shoulders, making sure your pillows were fluffed and positioned just right, as to prevent any cricks in your neck.

Huffing, as you shift around, trying to get comfortable with all your aches and pains, you try to fight against Jake’s fussing, but soon giving up, too exhausted from just trying to get ready for work. You blink tiredly up at him, eyes dry and bloodshot, “You don’t have to stay and do this Jake. I’ll be okay.” You sit up slightly, pushing yourself against the pillows, “Anyways, you have training. You shouldn’t be here because I’ll get you sick.”

Jake doesn’t dignify your complaining with a verbal response, raising one eyebrow at you, keeping his stare strong and bordering on the edge of harshness. A stare which soon had you shifting uncomfortably under his gaze, shuffling back down in the bed, giving him what you hoped was an equally annoyed stare, but the way Jake’s shoulders shook, told you that it didn’t appear as you’d hoped.

Pouting, crossing your arms across your chest, you huff up at Jake, frustration creeping in as the sickness starts to fully take its toll on you. He sighs heavily, moving closer to your side, to which you continually avoid his gaze, growing more and more frustrated with Jake’s fussing, no matter how much you’d secretly crave, but would never outright admit.

Jake was never one to give in, especially where you were concerned. To his advantage, the two of you act eerily similar when you weren’t feeling your best, a lot of stubbornness and pushing the other away. He switched tactics, continuing to put away all your work clothes and tidying the room up, all the while keeping a close eye on you in case things got worse.

You soon grew tired of Jake’s approach, frustrated that you knew why he was doing what he was, and hating how effectively it’s working. Whining softly, you reach out for him, to which Jake finishes putting away your clothes and slowly moves back to your side.

A wave of nausea overcomes you as you stir from a much needed nap. Screwing your eyes tightly, you pray that the unpleasant feeling will pass, breathing shakily.

Scrambling off the bed, your feet momentarily tangling in the sheets in your haste, you dart into the bathroom, holding your breath and locking the door behind you. There were just some things you’d rather not have the love of your life see. Being this violently unwell was one of them.

There had been countless times when you’d tended to Jake when he was in your position, but the way you’d grown up often meant you’d have to take care of yourself. Even with someone as selfless as Jake, you struggled with the actual complexities of opening up and letting someone take over that caretaker role, the one you’d spent years perfecting for yourself.

The burn in the back of your throat is actually welcomed, the promise of feeling even a little better after throwing up, lingering in the back of your mind. There’s a soft knock on the door, then, a more concerned rattle of the door handle when you fail to reply, too busy trying to catch your breath in between heaves.

Your hair is pulled gently back from your face and neck, soothing fingers rubbing soft circles across the base of your skull. Jake. He ties your hair loosely into a very messy bun, the one he’s seen you do effortlessly, yet his not quite measuring up to the elegant flair yours did. Not that it mattered to you. Jake’s insistence to be a constant presence by your side was all you could dream for.

A few weaker dry heaves later, Jake is leaning away, reaching up to the sink, dampening a soft face cloth and tenderly wiping your face, then turning to grab a clean towel, dabbing your face dry as gently as he could. Your shaking fingers cling feebly to the cold tiles, a desperate plea for the nausea to wane.

A soft whimper of his name had Jake shushing you gently, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead, “You’re going to feel so much better after this, the worst part is over darlin’.” Another soft whimpery sigh is his reply, too drained by this sickness to form any verbal response. The back of his hand on your clammy forehead told him your fever still wasn’t improving, despite your previous insistence that you were ‘fine’.

Sighing deeply, Jake braces himself, pulling himself to stand and bringing you up gently with him, letting you rest heavily against the counter, swaying slightly with each shuddering breath. His large palms cup your face, his worried green eyes searching yours for any sign that you could actually understand him.

“Darlin’…” He trails off as your eyes shift to meet his concerned gaze, “I know you’re gonna hate me for this, but I- We have to get that fever down. You need to shower.” An instant feeble protest from you comes in whines and shifting hesitantly away from him, a move which Jake preempts, catching your arm in gentle hold, just enough is this state to keep you in place. His soothing tone washes over you, eyes flickering closed and nodding cautiously at his next words, “I promise we will get you all cleaned up and feeling so much better when we’re done. I promise you darlin’.”

The spray of the shower is a shock to your clammy skin, much colder than you normally preferred, one that has you hugging yourself closely to Jake’s body, both for warmth and stability.

“I know you hate being sick, but you need to let me care for you. Let me take care of you, okay?”

Instead of the protests Jake is anticipating, he’s met with a weak nod, and your body going more lax under his touch, letting him manhandle you as he saw fit, something you usually fought against with every scrap of energy you could. Now even more concerned with your health, Jake moves you both fully under the water, allowing the spray to cascade down your back and freshen you up.

You blink heavily, in a daze, as Jake methodically dries your body, applies your body lotion, and towel dries your hair, before blow drying it enough for you to sleep comfortably with. Jake’s soft mummerings of soothing praises and reassurances never cease, not as he helps you get dressed, or as he cleans up the bathroom as you sit and watch him from the bathroom counter.

Reaching a hand out to him, Jake ceases his tidying, by your side in one stride, cupping your face gently, peppering kisses across your face. An act which always elicits a soft giggle from you, no matter how you feel. A soft smile on his lips mirrors your own, you struggle to let Jake in enough to let him help you fully, but this was a fight he’d won, one that you willingly let him help you with. That alone was a major step forward in your relationship together.

Guiding you back to bed, Jake is cautious with each movement, all too familiar with how a sudden movement could cause another flare up of nausea. A soft pout is on your lips as he settles next to you, a knowing, sympathetic smile on his.

“I feel so gross and disgusting. I could’ve handled that myself. You didn’t have to see me so disgusting.”

A soft shake of his head, and Jake is lowering his head to meet your gaze, gently guiding your face up to try and catch your eye line.

“Shush, you aren’t disgusting at all sweetheart, it’s only natural.” When you refuse to meet his gaze he continues, “And you’ve seen me in way worse states than that. From drinking too much with Coyote to nightmares after deployments, you’re always there for me.” You finally flick your eyes to his glistening green ones, “Let me take care of you darlin’.”

Swallowing thickly, blinking back stinging tears, you nod sharply, emotions bubbling up with his loving words. Jake wasn’t one to open up fully either, you guess that’s why you work so well together. A pair of people too accustomed to looking after themselves, to observing the most minor changes in their partner, to now allowing someone else to help them.

You shift closer to Jake, snuggling into his side, resting your head on his shoulder, “Thank you. I know I’m stubborn when I’m sick, but thank you for always being here to look after me.” A curt nod, and Jake is pulling you impossibly closer to his side.

“You’re welcome. You don’t have to thank me for looking after you. Ever. But you’re welcome darlin’.”

You drop the eye contact, shy, but nodding in understanding. This is how it’ll always be with the pair of you, you’ll always look after each other, no matter how much the other tries to fight the help. You’d always be there to support each other.

The pair of you stay like that for a while, in your feverish state, you’re unsure of how much time passes. All that matters is that Jake is by your side. Jake eventually pulls away from you slightly, shushing your complaints before you can even voice them.

“I’m just going to grab you something to eat. Just something plain. It’ll settle your stomach enough so you can get some medicine and hopefully some proper sleep.”

Scrunching your nose up in displeasure of this plan, you shake your head slowly, “No way am I even thinking about eating something right now Jake! My throat hurts so badly- And no to that disgusting medicine you’re gonna try to give me.”

A smirk twitches on Jake’s lips, you knew him too well, and vice versa. With a soft kiss to the crown of your head, Jake shifts away from you, tucking you back in bed properly. He pauses momentarily in the doorway, and looks back at you with a serious look on his face.

“If I see or hear you leave that bed, even once, I’m going to physically manhandle you back into it.”

Knowing full well that Jake is dead serious on his threat, you nod once and give him a mock salute, a small signal to him that you’re already beginning to feel more like yourself. He returns your salute with his own smirking, then he makes his way downstairs to grab you some saltine crackers and some water, along with a few medications to help you fight this illness.

The glare you send in Jake’s direction when he returns, does not have the desired effect. Instead of discouraging him to try and get you to cooperate with the food and medicines, all it does is make him chuckle as he resumes his position by your side, with a playful nudge.

“Jake…” You whined in protest when he offered you the open packet of crackers, a small detail not gone unnoticed by you, “I’m really not hungry right now. I just wanna sleep.”

Shrugging, Jake took a cracker for himself, crunching away at your side. You frown, those crackers were your crackers, and now your boyfriend, with a seemingly endless appetite, was tucking in to your snack. Huffing indignantly, you snatch the packet from his grasp, shifting to face away from him, slowly nibbling away at one.

Behind you, Jake has a content smile playing on his lips. His tactic of eating your food worked, again. He knew you’d know that’s what was happening, hence why you turned away from him. Jake was content enough to know that you were starting to feel better, it was often baby steps when you were this unwell. This was a big step in the right direction.

After nibbling your way through half the packet, you chance a glance over at Jake, who is carefully watching you and presses a kiss to your temple, “There you go darlin’. Do you think you could drink some water? It’ll make you feel a bit better.” Jake dips his head to catch your gaze, when you avoid eye contact, a move you pulled when you really didn’t want to do something he asked of you.

Focusing back on his hopeful gaze, you blink cautiously at him, unsure if your body could handle any more. While the strong wave of nausea had settled, it still lingered if you thought too hard about eating or drinking anything.

His gentle nudge drew you out of your overthinking, eyes flickering down to the glass in his outstretched hand. The familiar burning sensation of tears filling your eyes returns, which has Jake on high alert, immediately placing the glass down, out of your sight, concern and worry filling his own.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay darlin’, what’s wrong?” His soothing tone is laced with poorly hidden panic at your emotional state. Jake hated to see you cry, especially when it was something out of his control that caused it, something he couldn’t fix. “Hey, look at me sweetheart. It’s okay, just please try and drink a little, for me?”

Wrapping your arms tightly around him, you cry softly into his chest, shaking your head gently. His hand carefully cradles the back of your head as he holds you tightly to him. Your voice is weak and cracks with emotion, “Jake… I really don’t think I can. It’s just-.” You cut yourself off and look up at him, resting your chin on his chest, “You always take such good care of me. No one has ever done that before.” Jake nods in understanding, he already knew that, it just adds to his confusion as to why you’re suddenly crying over him offering you a glass of water. “You made sure it was iced water, and you got me a straw because you know how much I don’t want to drink it. Jake, you’re so sweet and thoughtful, and I wish I wasn’t so sick because I just want to kiss you so badly.”

Jake nods once more, pulling you back close to his chest, finally understanding that he hadn’t done something wrong and crying just happened to be your go-to emotion when you didn’t feel well. He chuckles softly and presses multiple kisses to the top of your head, “No kisses until you’re better darlin’. You know the rules.” He’s sorely tempted to kiss away the pout that forms on your lips, he just knows that one sick person in the household was enough. It wouldn’t help either of you, if you had to call Javy to bring you food and medicine. Well, it'd be fun for you, Jake on the other hand would never hear the end of it from his squadron.

Offering you the glass again, Jake cradles the back of your neck as you take slow sips, not wanting you to choke or spill any. You don’t miss the way he shifts slightly to reach for the medicine bottle either. Narrowing your eyes at him, you pout, hoping that by some miracle he’ll give in, “I’m not having that stuff again Jake. It tastes gross. In no world does lemon taste like that.”

Jake chuckles softly, running a soothing hand back and forth over your back, fingers occasionally lightly scratching your scalp. “You’ve gotta try some of this, even just a little bit. I promise it’s not that bad darlin’, just try it.” Shaking your head vehemently, you scoot as far as you can to the edge of the mattress, until you’re perched precariously.

Jake reaches an arm out, curling his fingers around your shoulders and pulling you back towards him, your back pinned against his chest. Knowing you’re stuck now, you give in, going limp in his hold and leaning your head back on his shoulder.

He kisses your forehead softly, “Just try. For me?” He brings the small medicine cup up to your lips, as your eyes narrow at him. He gives you his signature shrug and smirk, you mock him as best could which pulls a chuckle from him. Reluctantly, you swallow the foul tasting syrup, immediately reaching for the water that Jake already had in his grasp. You gulp hurriedly, trying in vain to wash away the lingering taste, your glare returns, “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d hate you right now.”

He nudges you playfully, “What? I got you to take it. Did you seriously think the taste would’ve changed after a few months?” Huffing, you playfully shove him back, then when his laughter bubbles up again, you quickly press a kiss to his shoulder.

“I should’ve known better, but it said ‘new and improved recipe’! And you! You looked so disappointed that I wasn’t gonna take it, and you know I can’t say no to you when you look like that!” Jake has the audacity to do his smirk-shrug combo again, which has you laughing weakly along with him.

He swings his arm loosely around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. Finding Jake to be his usual personal body heater, you snuggle impossibly closer to him, head resting on his chest, listening to the soothing sounds of his heartbeat. Your poorly disguised yawn does not go missed by Jake, who’s now concerned that you probably haven’t slept properly in days, “Get some sleep, you need rest darlin’.”

Shaking your head vehemently, you curl around him, burying your head into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply, whining when he tries to pull away so he could look at your face. “I don’t wanna sleep Jake.” You whine into his neck, “I just got you back, I don’t wanna lose any more time with you than I have too.”

Jake exhales slowly, it’s not the first time you’ve expressed this when he comes back from an extended deployment. Not that he particularly minded you being so invested in spending quality time together, it’s just this time with you being so unwell, you needed rest over anything else right now.

“Just go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.” There’s one more indignant huff from you, before a bigger yawn escapes you, he nudges you gently, kissing your forehead lovingly, “C’mon sweetheart, you know you’ll feel better for it.” When you peek a look at him, he can see the fear on your face. You’re scared he won’t be there when you wake you, that this was all a dream and he was still on deployment, or worse. He could see it so clearly now, the pain and deep-rooted fear in your glossy eyes. He had never seen you so fearful, it made his heart clench painfully.

“Darlin’. I promise you that I’ll be here when you wake up. I won’t leave your side. I promise.”

His smile is soft and for the first time since he got home, he feels relaxed knowing that you’re not suffering alone anymore. It occurred to him, more frequently the longer your relationship continued, that he never wanted you to be alone like that again, that he’d do anything to ensure you were looked after for the rest of your life. Well, more like the rest of his life, because he couldn’t see himself now without you. Jake needed you in his life, and it was clear now that you are going to spend the rest of your lives together.

He presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you doze lightly on his shoulder, eyes flickering momentarily over to his dresser where he’d placed the box a few weeks earlier. Resting his head against yours, he takes a moment to rest his eyes while he thinks over what the rest of his life was going to look like.

He was going to ask you to marry him soon.

He was going to marry you.

tag list - from taglist or seemed interested in this fic! (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

@els-marvelvsp @sky2nd @nouis-bum @atarmychick007 @solo2leo @jessicab1991 @avengersgirllorianna

[tummieaching]

hey it's ✉️, sorry about the delay, this is the second part of what happened the day I had to go to the post office 🤭

(Two). [cw for brief p1ss mention] Home now. Oh my god. I could barely function when I got to the front of the queue, my mind was just racing with "I think I'm going to puke, I'm going to be sick etc.", then I actually gagged when I was talking to the cashier and she asked if I was ok and did the signature for me so I could get out of there. I was so embarrassed.

It's hot and I started feeling so dizzy walking home so I drank a little water, and as soon as I swallowed it came straight back up, with a little of the milky stuff mixed in, I didn't even have time to move and it came out all over my t shirt and some on my leg. I don't think anyone saw. I sat on the grass for a few minutes because I was sure it was all coming up then, but I think maybe the shock and embarrassment kept it in because I just kept salivating and getting waves of dizziness (didn't dare drink more water), so eventually I got up and slowly managed to get home.

The smell of the puke on my t shirt was making me want to just bend over and heave but I made it. I was shaking when I finally closed the door behind me and went straight to the bathroom with a towel, my water bottle and the second glass of green tea which had steeped to a very dark colour. I was still feeling awful but turned on about all of this.

Since I already threw up on myself I left my clothes on and sat in the shower. I started reading stories on here that other people wrote about themselves being sick and hoped it would help me release my own stomach. It turned me on more and I rolled up a second towel and sat with it between my legs, rocking and starting to salivate as the motion irritated my stomach. I let the saliva run out of my open mouth down my chin and started to say things out loud about how sick I felt and how I needed to get it all up. Then the dizziness hit me hard and I had to lean against the wall to stay upright. I moaned a little and told myself I just needed to let it come and be sick and then I would feel better.

I grabbed the tea and drank it, it was cold so I could drink it very fast. It was incredibly bitter and as soon as I finished the cup I could feel it coming back up. I always get a bit scared right before I throw up so I told myself, let it come, get it up and before I could even finish a stream of sick gushed up out of me and splashed in the shower. I couldn't move because I was trying not to faint so it got in the cup, all over my legs and socks and part of the towel. I burped and retched and gasped for breath and then got sick again, this time it was soft, milky sludge that felt foamy in my throat and landed quietly on my chest. It moved really slowly in my throat and made me gag hard again.

The towel felt warm and I realised I had pissed a little as I gagged. The waves of retching came again and again and I got desperately, loudly, uncontrollably sick all over myself, this time it was like a thick soup with berry pieces. The chunkier stuff was sitting a slimy pool in my lap. I told myself I was doing a good job to calm me down because I didn't have anyone there to help me.

Next time I heaved so hard I had to grip the shower rail, it was gurgly and sounded much deeper than my usual voice and I brought up a big puddle of thick slightly darker coloured vomit that felt heavy as it settled in the pool on my top. It was sour and had pieces of pastry which, when I felt them sticking to the roof of my mouth, made my eyes roll back and I threw up again and soaked the towel. One memorable moment was when I tried to soothingly call myself a good girl but as I was saying "girl" I was violently sick so it came out as "good blbleeeuuuurghle" lol.

This carried on for about 40 mins and towards the end I was just burping and burping and every few burps I'd bring up a blob of rice pudding into my mouth and have to spit it out. It was a bit more intense than I planned but really hot.

The only issue is that now I've puked so much, my stomach is very sensitive and will be for hours - I vomited a bit of water while writing this just from my own descriptions and then when I was cleaning it up, another glob of rice pudding sick came up out of nowhere (I just managed to lean over the edge of the sofa in time to let it up onto the floorboards). I have a bowl with me now because I'll probably keep having these small sudden vomits for another few hours but I'm going to try to settle my stomach with mint tea.

Thank you very much for telling us your story here ... it's very arousing to read, I'm proud of you for getting it all up like that, I bet you felt so much better afterward ... the puddle in your lap oh goodness, it must have been warm for a little while ... and wow, you peed yourself too ♡ I would have loved to help you get it up ... your poor sensitive belly, I hope that bowl serves you well ♡

I'm rubbing myself reading this, sitting in front of the toilet myself, I hope it will help me puke soon ... I'm going to read it again after I post this ♡

[gtgbabie0]

Ouch!

{Spider-Man!Spencer comes home late with a gift and an apology}

I love this au so much it’s insane. I really hope you enjoy!! 💕

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2:23 am. The clock reads in bright red colours and you swear it’s taunting you, mocking you almost as you wait and wait for Spencer to return home. Angry felt like an understatement, you were beyond angry at this point and you blame him for making you sick with worry.

Spencer would normally send you a text at the very least, just to let you know he was coming home, but tonight, nothing, just complete radio silence. And now you were completely consumed with panic, a feeling that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

And that’s why you felt like throwing a pillow and a blanket at him as he clumsily climbs through your window, knocking his books off the shelves as he does, to tell him he’ll be sleeping on the sofa for the rest of the month.

But then he pulls off his mask, trying to catch his breath, his hair all messy and he gives you the biggest sweetest smile ever, eyes creasing with the action. He knows he’s messed up, big time.

“Baby- I’m sorry, I just-” he watches as you scoff before walking off into the bedroom, his smile drops and his eyebrows knit together with confusion, “Hey! Where are you going?” He asks, only to be met with the bedroom door in his face.

“Well now that I know you’re not dead, I’m going to sleep,” you tell him, and he winces slightly at the anger in your tone.

He didn’t mean to return so late, it was partly Derek's fault, he was the one who dumped all that paperwork on his desk, which made him late to his ‘late night parkour sessions’ as you so kindly called it.

Spencer rests his head against the wooden door, sighing softly, “I’m really sorry, can I come in-- please?” He asks, his voice so gentle that it almost makes you feel bad, “I really missed you today”, almost.

You contemplate packing a bag and calling Penelope, but then you would have to come up with a believable excuse because you couldn’t exactly tell her that Spencer, the same Spencer she’s been working with for years, is Spider-man.

He starts tapping the door to some rhythm in his head, “No, I don’t want to look at you right now” you tell him, hoping that he would just give in but that wasn’t exactly in Spencer’s nature.

Your words pain him more than you know, it hurts to hear but he couldn’t exactly blame you either, he knew you would worry.

He rummages through his brown shoulder bag looking for the necklace he and Derek brought. You wanted it for your birthday but it was sold out everywhere, then JJ had seen it on her way to work and immediately called Spencer, who was going to swing over to the jewellery shop, literally, but was soon stopped by Derek who said he’d go with him, something about Penelope having a rough week and wanting to treat her.

He holds the small purple box gently, thumb grazing over the velvet, sighing at the entire situation.

Then the door opens and a hopeful feeling blooms through his chest, “I’m going to get some water” and just like that it withers away.

He follows you out into the kitchen, his brown eyes full of guilt. He just wants to hold you again. “Sweetness, I was going to text you I swear- but then my phone” he admits holding up two pieces of his flip phone, snapped in half.

He’s about to go on a rant, explaining to you how it completely wasn’t his fault, how these guys were trying to rob this old woman on his way home, and Spencer being Spencer, plus the whole Spider-man thing, couldn’t just ignore it.

But you don’t let him, you guess you were just overcome with relief that he was alright, not bleeding out in some random alleyway, it kinda just hit you, washing over your tired body with haste as you threw your arms around his neck, bringing him close to you.

That same relief bleeds onto him, and with a heavy sigh as he rests his head in the crook of your neck. His arms encircling around you as he holds you close to him. He doesn’t want to let you go.

“I can’t keep paying for new phones” you whisper, trying to hold back the cries that wedge in the back of your throat with a giggle, and he chuckles softly shaking his head.

“You don’t have to, I’ll figure it out,” he says, pulling back slightly as he peppers gentle kisses all over your face, and his heart skips a beat at your soft laughter, the lovely sound only urges him to continue.

You’re hands cup either side of his cheeks as you look at him, studying his pretty face, “You really scared me tonight Spencer” you tell him, and he gives you an understanding look as he takes your hands in his, his thumb smoothing over the bumps of your knuckles.

“I know- I’m sorry, really-” you watch with slight confusion as he pulls out a small purple box from his pocket, “It won’t happen again, I promise” he whispers handing you the gift, he smiles watching with excitement as you open the box.

His heart stutters in his chest as he watches your eyes light up, glistening with joy as you look up at him, you go and say something but all that comes out is small gasps, and it makes the butterflies in his stomach all too prominent.

“I know this won’t make up for everything, and- and I’m not trying to buy your forgiveness, that’s not what I’m trying to do- I just want you to be-” and before you completely lose him to his panicked rambling, you push your hand against the back of his neck bringing him down as you kiss him, leaving him breathless.

He lets out a nervous chuckle, “S-so you like it?” He asks quietly, his lips against yours.

“I love it, thank you, baby,” you tell him, and he helps you put the necklace on, his gentle fingers grazing against your soft skin before you pull on his hand leading him into your bedroom with hushed giggles, your hearts full of love.

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[huevinart]

“You will never be her.”

Syzoth x f!reader part 1?

Warning: Sadness, trauma, contempt and attempted punishment, reader's point of view.

Previews: You discover you're pregnant and can't wait to tell your husband, even though the past comes back like a storm.

You and Syzoth quickly established a friendship once you met, despite all adversities and thanks to Lord Liu Kang, you were supportive and helpful in helping Syzoth adapt to the land during her stay there.

It didn't take long for the feelings of friendship to turn into something more, something romantic. Long talks under the stars, walks holding hands, eh even the sweet taste of the first kiss, which he gave you the day before his return to Outworld where he would be appointed as an emissary. Not even a week had passed when you were summoned by the new empress, Syzoth had expressed her feelings for you, which caused her, in gratitude for your collaboration with Liu Kang's champions, to offer you a position at court as one of his advisors and thus be able to be close to him, or as you called him “my Syzoth”.

Although he traveled a lot to be the emissary, his relationship with you blossomed, passion left no room for waiting, making love with him was something so beautiful and special. The old wise men had warned that due to their Zaterran nature it was almost impossible for you to get pregnant, your pregnancy was not compatible with that of a reptile.

So you didn't worry about it, time passed, Syzoth returned from Zaterra hungry for you.

“Y/n? My treasure, where are you? He asked approaching the garden of the royal palace, he knew that she usually spent the afternoons in her absence reading a book among the flowers. “Love, you're finally back…” I suddenly noticed that he had a beautiful bouquet of yellow flowers, similar to tulips on earth, and he was slowly kneeling before me. “I finally got full acceptance from my people, well, not that I care, but I want to do things right and I just wanted to ask you if… do you want to marry me?”

His emerald green eyes penetrated my soul, my body trembled and I only managed to throw myself at him and hug him, “yes, yes, of course, my love.”

And so it was, we got married two months later, it was strange, it was the first time in a long time that the Zaterrans were together with the warmbloods under the same roof, Mileena was very kind to allow us to celebrate our wedding in her palace.

Syzoth promised me that he would take care of me, that he would not allow anything bad to happen to me, of course, he had already lost his family. He never wanted to talk about that topic with me, I thought that little by little he was overcoming his pain, I never asked him, I didn't want to hurt him with his own past... I thought that his wounds were healing but I was wrong.

It wasn't long until I became sick, nauseous, dizzy, I never imagined it was a life growing inside me. It wasn't until a trip to Earth that my discomfort worsened, my friend Ashrah raised the possibility that she was pregnant, oh my Argus no! That was impossible, right? I ran to take a pregnancy test before returning home, I had to take advantage of being on earth and the result made my blood run cold, positive, something I thought was impossible. She was pregnant! I had to tell my husband, a new beginning, a new life growing inside me. Once I crossed the portal, I ran towards my house, and there he was happy, waiting for me. As soon as he saw me, he ran towards me and kissed me passionately. His arms gave me the purest feeling, true love. It wasn't until I broke the kiss, panting and avoiding further heating up the matter that I knew would end up between the sheets of my bed when I decided to tell him “Syzoth! “I'm pregnant, we're having a baby!” My eyes full of tears of joy and my warm smile collided with a face of bitterness and disgust, I felt him walk away from me abruptly.

“That's impossible, it's a lie,” he sighed and then clenched his fists tightly, hitting the wall hard.

“Love, I'm pregnant… it's not a lie” my face was petrified but I still approached him and touched his shoulder, instantly his eyes fell on me, with disappointment, anger?

"I thought it would make you happy to have a family with me."

“I already had a family!” He pushed my hand away and covered his face. His tears broke my heart, but his words, the bitter taste they left in my mouth, I will never forget.

“You don’t understand y/n! I betrayed them! Replace my wife! And now to my son!! Syzoth fell to his knees and without saying another word he burst into tears, an agonizing scream, finally the accumulated pain had resurfaced, it was an unprocessed grief that he never brought to light, a time bomb.

"I'm sorry... I..." my body shook and my voice broke, not knowing what I should do, I just tried to hug him, it was useless, I wouldn't let him get close to me, The other person grabbed me by the shoulders and looked at me with a deeper look. Sad that I've never seen it.

“I loved them, and I changed them for someone like you, and now they will think, no! My little! I'd think his father forgot him and traded him for another boy! You will never be her!! And that child you carry in your womb WILL NEVER BE MY LITTLE LITTLE ONE! You understand! What did I do? Wow, they didn't deserve that, their death, they didn't deserve it, I should be with them now, the three of them being happy, I failed them." He was finally getting rid of his pain, but it was too late for me, my body. I trembled, his words They were a dagger that tore my flesh and my soul. It hurt me, was I a usurper? My body did not respond but the tears did not stop flowing from my eyes. I could not react. It wasn't until I was finally able to let out a sob in the midst of so much bitterness and that lump that got stuck in my throat that he reacted, he looked into my eyes with regret for his words, he had realized what he had told me. . . “Y/n, I didn't want to, it wasn't my intention, I love you, I just…” without saying more words he hugged me tightly, but my body didn't react, I wanted to run away. , I wanted to disappear from that place, I was breathless, now I didn't want to know anything, I felt like I was in a farce, in a failed attempt to heal a wound, I didn't want to replace anyone. , I just wanted to form a new story, my story, my life. I got up with the little strength I had left and headed towards the door. Syzoth hugged me, he didn't want to let go, I tried to clarify his reaction but...

“My love, no! y/n, I'm so sorry... I thought I could rebuild my life and heal with you but I will never stop thinking about them, you will never be her, and that's okay but it's not the same. I feel so guilty. ..” I stopped him, I didn't want to hear any more “my son is not a replacement, I'm sorry for being a failed experiment in punishment, I'm sorry for believing this son would be as loved by me as he was by you.”

I swallowed my tears, it hurt me but I took courage and got out of there, he didn't follow me, I just saw him collapse on the ground defeated, maybe we both needed a little solitude, if only he had told me about his pain. I would never have let such a storm come to this point that tormented his heart. My doubt, did he ever love me? I will never be her, I may never have a place in her heart.

[silv3rswirls]

Lamb

warnings: werewolves, detailed descriptions of skin, braking bones, etc. Blood and gore, kidnapping, yandere, burning skin

note: man i love a good werewolf fic

The air that night had been bitter and your cheeks were rosy as frost nipped at you. You were trudging through a thick, fresh blanket of snow and ice, the roads were closed off after the storm. You needed to get home though, having taken refuge at the convenience store during the store instead of going home hadn’t been the move in hindsight. “I would’ve made it home” you sulked to yourself, not dressed for the cold and bitter for having to leave your car buried. You look at the dragged animal prints in the snow, frowning and feeling a little bad for the wildlife. How scary is it for them? You wonder, you had been scared while sitting in the convenience store, you would’ve lost it if you had been stuck outside.

Your brows knit together, these prints looked weird. It wasn’t deer and looked too big and long to be the coyotes or wolves that lurked in the forest; it certainly wasn’t dogs. You start to feel a bit uneasy, looking around the bright scape of white snow and sparkling ice under warm streetlights. 

You yelp at the feeling of something hard hitting you from behind, when you manage to get your bearings you realize it is the body of some animal. It's big, bigger than a bear, bigger than any animals you have ever seen around here. It's…disgusting…is it sick? You wonder. Its body is a mix of jagged bone and thick, gray skin and muscle. 

Its lips curl, peeling back to reveal pointed teeth stained with blood and clumps of fur stuck between. It stands up, towering over you, you back away but with just one step it’s nearly on top of you. You stare at it, scared in place and wide-eyed. It looked like what you would imagine a werewolf to, but far worse than the movies and books portrayed them as. You would see every smooth dip and jagged point in its arms, how skin stretched tight over its horrible face, crooked muzzle, and veiny body. Deep set eyes, that glew silver with just the ghost of a pupil behind the silver sheen. Pointed ears, the right one tore- you could only wonder what could’ve been big enough to injure the beast standing before you. 

It gets on its hands and knees, leaning and staring harder at you for a moment. In just a second, a blur to your eyes, you feel its heavy paw slam into your side, throwing you to the side of the road like nothing. You stubbled, gasping for a breath you couldn’t catch and tumbling into the ditch. It lunges after you as you scramble to get up and run, sliding in the snow and nearly throwing yourself toward the tree line. You’re unsure if you’re getting a head on the creature, or if it's giving you a running start. You hope for the first. It felt like every bone in your chest was broken, it hurt to breathe as you let out sporadic gasps trying to keep on running. 

You burst into sobs when it catches up. What had you ever done to deserve this? You were a good person, you helped your elderly neighbors and volunteered in town whenever they asked. You were kind to everyone you came across, you were nice, you were- your thought was cut short at the feeling of the beast jumping and taking you to the ground. If your bones weren’t broken before you were sure they were now. Its nose drug across your skin, and before you could understand what was happening its jagged fangs sunk into your side; painfully slow and burning. You opened your mouth, but couldn’t muster anything to come out. It feels like it’s gnawing at you; crunching your bones between its jaws and peeling the skin away slowly. You do all you can manage, kick at its hard body, and slam your hands into its muzzle, but nothing helps.

You lay there, blood staining the snow around you. You hear the beast run off, snarling and grunting. For a moment you swore it was laughing at you; taunting you.

“My brother was the same as you.”

That was the first thing he had said to you. You hadn’t known him, but it seemed he knew all too much about you.

“He was bitten, on his side just like you were.”

Whenever he spoke about it, your insides twisted and the mauled flesh on your side hurt. 

“I can help you. If you want help.”

What had brought you to this point? You wondered to yourself, lying on the damp soil of Jungkook's basement. It wasn’t really a basement, and the first time he showed it to you you had gotten freaked out and refused to go down at all. When the…side effects of your condition began to worsen, you sucked up any fear and scurried down there every night like a rat. It was a room he dug himself, tore his floors up, and constructed it from scratch he explained. It didn’t look like much, but it would be a safe, secure place for you to hide. So every night you would come to Jungkook, after a long day of barely holding it together through work and personal life; two things Jungkook warned you would have to discard by the next full moon. 

Your weariness towards Jungkook dwindled the more you realized he knew what he was talking about. It was relieving to have someone who could understand, maybe not the same as another creature like yourself would, but he was the closest thing around.

After being bitten that night, you woke up the next morning in your bed; thinking it all to be a nightmare. But ghost pains of your snapped bones and missing flesh poked at you. And when you finally grew the courage to lift your shirt and look, you could see the faint outline of a bite mark. 

What did this mean? 

You were changing is what it meant. Slowly you began to feel it. Assuming the insane idea that a werewolf had bitten you, you began to feel your bones ache as if they were slowly shifting within. It felt silly looking up the date for the next full moon.

Now it was just hours away, and Jungkook had left you shackled down here for days. Your skin had stopped burning at this point, the silver cuffs around your wrists were surrounded with black, charred flesh. It wasn’t going to regenerate as long as the silver irritated it. Jungkook said it would keep you weak, so you couldn’t escape when you transformed. Maybe it was keeping you too weak because never in your plans had you agreed to be locked away for days on end. This was torture and you prayed Jungkook was doing the right thing.

The hatch above you was heaved open, and the dim light from Jungkook’s house slowly began to seep in, harsh against your eyes. His head poked into view, wearing a friendly smile as he tossed a duffle bag down before descending the ladder. You watch him anxiously, an odd feeling poking your stomach. It must be time to actually start preparing for tonight. “Can you take these off now?” You ask, frowning when he goes to the duffle bag rather than to you first. “Please?”

“Hm?” He hummed. “What was that?”

“Come on, take these off.” You huff, slowly starting to make your way into a sitting position.

“Well…aren’t you going to say please again?”

Your face gets red in annoyance, you’re feeling extremely irritable. “Cut it out.” 

“I just think it’s cute when you say it” he smiles, leaning over to unlock the cuffs. Slowly he peels them away. Your skin clings charred to it, some of it goes with the cuffs and the rest lays limp and scarred on your wrists. You stared at them with a deep frown. You had never seen your body in such poor shape. You had always been lucky to avoid broken bones and serious injuries. Now, ever since the attack, it seemed your body was actively fighting against you. 

“Is it going to leave a scar?”

“Maybe. After your transformation, your injuries should heal though.” You nod, bringing your knees up to your chest and watching Jungkook pour the bag out, only to regret it as raw meat spills out of it. It was wet and bloody, some almost thawed from the grocery store and the rest haphazardly wrapped in brown paper from the butcher downtown. It smelt, you wanted to throw up and devour it all at the same time. “I got a deer out back, I’ll skin it and throw it down here for you.”

“I’m getting nervous,” you mutter, trying to ignore how good the meat looks next to you. “I mean, I’ve always been nervous but now it's getting too real.”

“I won't lie to you, it's going to hurt. You’ll scream and cry, it’ll feel like your whole body is breaking, but when it's over it’s over. It'll just stop and you’ll feel…amazing I guess.”

Jungkook turns around, giving you a smile. Maybe it was supposed to be comforting, but all you could feel was a hole in your stomach. The hair on the back of your neck was standing, every inch of your skin prickling. You were staring at Jungkook, but your vision was changing. It was getting messy, blurry, and harsh. The light above Jungkook was bright, burning your eyes. He was cast part in shadow, his smile was freaking you out. It was too wide, too optimistic. His eyes weren’t the cute little doe eyes you saw when you met it. They were dark, his pupils were bright and red, and he was staring right through you.

Love you, love you, love you

Your head whips around, trying to place the voice you heard. It was low, grumbling in your ear. But no one was there.

“What’s wrong?”

You look back at Jungkook, you were feeling anxious. You hadn’t felt anxious since you were bitten, you hadn’t felt anything since you were bitten. Now it felt like everything was hitting you. You were dizzy, your head hurt, you thought you might throw up what little was in your stomach. 

“Why do you” you cut yourself off and blink a few times.

Saw you love you, want you, love you

You felt Jungkook’s hand on your shoulders, shaking you slightly as he pulled you closer. “What’s wrong?”

“Why are you eyes…” you stare at his eyes, white pools staring back at you. No pupils, just a glittery silver staring back at you. He ignores you, his hand cups your face and his thumb traces your cheek comfortingly. 

“Are you losing yourself now?” He frowns. “You poor thing. There’s nothing you can do anymore.”

You take a quick glance at his ear, covered with dark curls. You’re quick to push it away, the top half of his ear is missing. You stare at it for a long time until you feel him get closer, grabbing you tighter and holding you in place for a kiss. 

“You did this to me” your voice breaks, pushing him away. 

He nods slowly, staring intently at you. “I did,” he admits straightforwardly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

You just sit there, unable to wrap your mind around it. Jungkook, who other than being a little odd, had seemed kind enough. He knew a lot- of course, he knew a lot. Of course, he just happened to find you. “Sweet little lamb.” he smiles, “Just accept it right? Not like you can leave now- not like I’d let you. Not like anyone would want you anymore.”

Jungkook stands up, and when you try to get up he kicks you back down. “When I first saw you, I knew I wanted you to be like me. There aren’t any more of us around here, just me and you now.” He explains, “You had these eyes- well had these eyes- they’re so round and innocent, like a lamb. You were my little lamb, I was going to eat you at first, but…something about you that night, I couldn’t help myself.”

You can’t help but cry, out of anger or fear; you weren’t sure. You couldn’t even bring yourself to stand anymore, your body felt like it was on fire and you could feel your bones slowly snapping and shattering. “Stop” you choke out, “make it stop.” you could feel it now, it felt like your eyes were filling up with syrup, it was silver; all you could see was the moon and hear Jungkook as he spoke in the distance. The creek of the door as it begins to close. 

“This is just the beginning sweet lamb, it’s already been done.”

“You didn’t use to be this way, but I didn’t either. What you did to me; it’s not fair.”

taglist: @aft3rhrs

[ferrariregina]

Charles Leclerc request

I hope to one day have it in me to make you as miserable as you've made me

misery on the fast lane | cl16 × reader

pairing: charles leclerc × reader

warning: angst, unedited, also lets act like charles won a gp recently okay? okay.

summary: mentioned above.

you are seated at home, the flickering flame of the candle throwing agitated shadows against the wall. outside, the night is dark and silent, the world seems to be as quiet as your heart. a single polaroid, nestled between a pile of books, catches your eye. it's you and charles. embraced in each others arms, grinning at the camera like idiots.

you miss him, you admit. the way his fingers would trace your skin, delicate and electrifying, the playful glint in his blue eyes, his terrible imitations of celebrities, and that contagious laughter. but the bitter poison of hurt and betrayal lingers stronger than the remnants of love.

he was not just anybody; charles was the fan-favourite driver. every time he'd leave, you would dread his impending return because it should have made you happy. instead, the fear of him losing his life on the racetrack made you miserable. the anxiety was unbearable, but he always returned with that exhilarating grin. until one day, he didn't.

he didn't crash. no, we were the ones who crashed and burned when he admitted having fallen for someone else.

"will you forgive me?" his last words left a bitter taste that you could not erase.

now, you fantasize about the payback. how would it feel to make him as miserable as he'd made you? there's a sick pleasure just imagining it. your heart, once full of love, is now brimming with vengeance.

the warmth he provided, the promise of countless tomorrows, all of it lost and unattainable now.

like a cruel joke or perhaps fate trying to mend your broken halves, you found yourself standing across charles at a bustling party one night. you watched him standing tall, sipping champagne, a captivating sight indeed. his eyes met yours across the sparkling crowd, with an emotion you couldn't fathom.

"hey," he greeted softly, as he moved closer. the effervescent laughter and congratulatory cheers for his recent victory seemed to drown out.

"charles," your greeting was soft-spoken, brimming with bittersweet nostalgia - but you were far from presenting an open book.

"you look…" he paused as if the words weighing him down. "you look beautiful."

"thank you" you replied, stiffening when he grazed your arm with his fingers, those familiar digits igniting an old flame.

"you know… I've missed you," he muttered, eyes pleading. you felt your heart stutter but the seed of vengeance watered, determined.

"that's strange," you replied, feigning naivety.

"I want you back," he declared, grip intensifying. "give me a chance. please."

every cell in your body cried out for his touch, for his promise of a tomorrow. but your pride screamed, insisting you not fall for his pleas. give him a taste of his own medicine, you reminded yourself. you chewed on your lip, hesitant, before releasing a gentle sigh.

"I'm sorry, charles," you replied, taking a step back. "that's not possible."

"b-but I miss you…" his plea embarrassingly desperate, making you wince, a pool of sorrow welling up inside. "can we try again? please?"

you laugh without humor, the sound harsh and louder than you intended. "you have some nerve, charles," you state, trying to wince back the tears threatening to fall.

"don't you miss what we had?" he asks almost pleading now.

you want to lash out, yell at him for what he did, but instead, you say, "what we had is past, charles. a closed chapter. "I still miss you," he says helplessly. suddenly the victorious f1 champion seemed to be nothing more than a broken man begging for forgiveness.

your eyes soften for a brief moment. you miss him too, yet the devout hope to make him feel your agony overpowers your longing for him. you yank your arm free and walk away, leaving him standing alone.

as you walk away, you find it difficult to determine whether you have become stronger or colder in fulfilling your hopes. but for now, you are satisfied, his piercing gaze burning into your back, mirroring the same misery he had inflicted on you.

a/n: I loved writing this, hope y'all enjoy reading.thanks for this request! requests are open!

xoxo

[frozenjokes]

convex talking to each other arc. not a good talk. not like the worst talk they could have managed though.

ao3 link

LOOP 16

Scar was.. he was fine. He was fine. Adjusting a little, but he was fine. It seemed like he never stopped adjusting, never stopped feeling utterly devoid. He wanted so much, but these days he just kept his claws buried in the sheets. Sometimes he’d groom the blankets. It wasn’t a nice thing. He had a better time pulling out tufts of his own fur. Cleo was kind enough not to say anything when she caught him at it.

The food situation was a big adjustment, one Scar couldn’t stop feeling terribly anxious about. It didn’t matter if they had enough, it didn’t matter if Scar ate half a day’s rations under the human standard, eating was a petrifying ordeal, one he worked himself up so much over that he was hardly hungry anymore. Anxiety made him sick, and desperately he wished he could starve instead, watch the humans and take comfort from their health. The longer the loop drew on, the more anxious Scar became, face to face with the possibility this would be the one that would last, the one where they could run out.

He tried. He tried so hard. This was one of Cub and Cleo’s terms, Scar had to eat, to leave them alone, but it was so much harder than he was certain he could manage. He only felt okay eating the leftovers, which he still could not allow them to throw away. That was normal. That was safe. It was a great relief they allowed him this at the very least.

Scar tried to avoid Cub for the most part. Partially an attempted gesture of respect; Scar really did want to let him have his space, but partially, much more so, Scar was just afraid. He found Cub impossibly difficult to read; humans in general were expressive in entirely different ways than catfolk were, but while Cleo at least emoted with their face, Cub didn’t seem to express anything in any way at all. With no ears, tail, or bristling fur, how was Scar supposed to tell if Cub was playing around or serious? Cleo could tell what he was feeling, apparently, but Scar was not her!

Though, some days Scar doubted if Cleo really could tell or not. The past few loops passed in relative quiet, days Scar would describe as more friendly than not, but as this loop started to find its bearings, both humans had gotten more and more irritated with each other. They had always been mean, always combative, and Scar had found himself desperately trying to keep some sort of peace in the past loops, biting one or the other when things went too far, but these days he was afraid to intervene, and if Scar didn’t make himself known, he was never paid any mind.

Scar hated it. He hated how they went out of their way to rile each other up, piss each other off, painfully trying to bait the other into snapping at their throat just so they could fire off the nasty comment they’d thought up while unable to fall asleep. There had yet to be a physical fight in this loop, and violence of that kind was a rarity in general, but after Cub had exploded on Scar, physically violent fights like that were all Scar could think about.

It was not uncommon for Scar to spend his nights worrying as well, fidgety and overgrooming when sleep failed to take him.

There was one night, just him and Cleo in bed, where Scar was horribly anxious, snuggled close, but it wasn’t enough. Everything was too quiet, too cold, not enough people, not enough bodies, they were going to starve, die, and no one would believe him. Cleo had been long asleep, not conscious enough to feel his shallow, panicked breaths.

Cub moved to sit and Scar jolted up so violently he was shocked Cleo wasn’t stirred awake. The two of them stared at each other for a while in the dark, quiet, near silent in that terrible sort of way.

“Are you fine?” Cub had a way of asking that made it clear he did not care. That was Scar’s impression, anyway. He moved to turn on his mic.

“Did I wake you?” Scar muttered, unwilling to shelve his bitterness tonight. He had a lot of reasons to be sad, and plenty more to be angry, but tonight he had little patience for enemies.

“Yes.” A short silence followed the word, distinctly awkward, like Cub was not used to carrying a conversation unless he was playing the role of Insufferable Prick. “Not the mic this time,” Cub amended, as if Scar did not know his two hour panic attack was the source of the disruption. “Thanks for turning it off.” Scar let the quiet linger, decidedly uncaring about how awkward this was for Cub. If he didn’t want to be treated like a child, fine. Scar would take him as he was; foul. Cleo was mean, but at least she had a soul.

Cub was quiet, but Scar’s refusal was more suffocating, so Cub was forced to speak. “Are you upset with me?”

“I feel quite a lot about you, and none of it is good.”

“Hm,” Cub said, nodding, like this made complete sense. “Okay.”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.”

“Mhm.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“I do. I’m unpleasant most days.” Before Scar could refute him, he continued, “More than unpleasant more days than most. I know it. Cleo knows it. You stopped pretending you didn’t know it, so here we are.”

“I wasn’t-“ Scar cut himself off with a small growl, not wanting to wake Cleo.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Cub cut in before Scar could continue his denial, also quieter, like he too was reminded of their sleeping companion. “I mean it literally. You called me a child so you could stand to like me, isn’t that true?”

Scar lowered his head, resigned. “Easier to forgive children.”

“I can sympathize with that. To a point. You found that line.”

“I’m sorry for that.”

“Why?”

Scar’s whiskers twitched, somewhat incredulous, “What do you mean, why? I hurt you. I did it until you felt trapped enough to attack me, that’s why.”

“Oh,” Cub said, dumbly, “I’m not very nice.”

“You’re not.” Scar huffed, irritation building.

Quiet found the both of them once more, though Scar was not grasping for anything to say. He had nothing for Cub. If Cub had anything for him, he didn’t want it. That didn’t stop Cub from speaking regardless.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I won’t be sorry to you, and I won’t be good, either, so it’s a waste of energy to care.”

“Con grat- ulations. I’m glad your feelings are so easily suppressed, but it doesn’t matter how much of a dick you are, I’ll still feel bad for hurting you, and I’ll still feel sorry. I know you and Cleo have given up niceties, but I can’t. I can’t just be fine with it. Fighting and yelling and shooting each other. I can’t live like that.” Scar ended his sentiment with a snort, burying his chin back on Cleo’s stomach. Her breathing was a small comfort. He was ready to go to sleep now, and was drifting by the time Cub finally responded, pulling him back.

“I am very tired a lot of the time. It takes a certain amount of effort to be civil, an effort I haven’t put forward in a long, long time, and after I got sick.. forget it. It matters very little what I do, Scar. I can be nice, but they know what I am. They know I’m different, it’s unsettling, just little things that set people off, that catch their eye, and whether or not I put forth the effort, I will not find community. I’ve lived enough life to know it, and I would like to tell you that it does not bother me, but I would not be telling the truth. So I stop caring. I take my life into my own hands. I control myself, and what people choose to do with that man is their own business. But people can’t hurt you if you don’t put yourself out there in the first place, only you can hurt you, and that’s how I ended up here, sick and more tired than I was before. I’ve forgotten how to try in the first place, and I am not motivated enough to relearn it. I only have five more years to live. Very little point. Cleo feels similarly.”

“That’s not what she told me.”

Cub’s world seemed to stop spinning.

He straightened, at full attention, eyes fuller than Scar had ever seen on him. “What? What did they say to you?” Scar considered Cub, considered the attention, the emotion in his voice that he couldn’t quite place. ‘So I stop caring.’ If that was really a human ability, Scar did not think Cub possessed it.

“Some loops ago, a while by now. She shot you for something you’d said and regretted it. She thinks she’s worse to you than you are to her-“

“She’s not.”

“It doesn’t matter who is or isn’t more of an asshole,” Scar cut back in, tail thumping against the bed, “I told them I don’t like when you guys get like that. I don’t. I really don’t like it. They told me they don’t like it either. They don’t like acting that way, being mad at you, and I don’t have to guess to know they don’t like all the flack you throw at every opportunity that presents itself. I doubt you like it when she does the same to you, no matter what you say about not caring. And I hate it!”

“Quiet,” Cub hissed, in panic more than anger, “You’re going to wake her.”

“Maybe I should. They can tell you themself.”

“No.” The breath was short, terrified. Then slowly, solemnly, Cub’s stiff posture slackened, and he laid back down, resigned. He was quiet a long many moments, and maybe Cub sensed Scar was staring him down in the dark, because he shifted positions, turning away. “Nothing to be done,” he mumbled.

Scar could have killed him for that. Again, he found himself shaking, overcome by his previous anxieties, new anger, and an all encompassing, crushing homesickness.

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate it here, I hate it, I can’t do this- I can’t live like this, I just want to go home. I don’t- I won’t have anything to bring back with me, I’ll have to face them with nothing, and still it’s better than being here.” Scar turned off his mic. Cub didn’t need to hear his sniffling in high definition, he didn’t care afterall, there was nothing to be done. He wanted Cleo. He wanted Mumbo. He wanted his mom, what he’d give to be held by her one last time, to never take that touch for granted, that love, deep and unconditional in a world where the conditions everywhere else were impossibly high, where he’d never be enough to Try for.

He had to get up. He had to get out of here. He had to find the place he and Mumbo had blown a hole in the side of the ship, Mumbo was still there, Mumbo was waiting for him, and Scar had to get back before it was too late.

“Scar, where are you going?”

Scar did not answer him. Dutifully, he exited the safe room through the right door, the one that would lead him back to the destroyed wall. They called it ‘Scar’s room’ now, the humans did. His room. The place he’d broken in, the place he fell flat on his face after every reset. Funny, that was. Ironic, almost. He was always falling short, wasn’t he.

Scar found the place where the hole should have been; it was easy to find, perfectly easy, this was exactly where he stood on each reset afterall. Pathetically, he collapsed against the wall, sliding to sit as close to home as he could ever be in this place. He cried to it, like a kitten to a closed door. It was closed, wasn’t it? It wouldn’t open for him again, and still he sat, head thunked against the unyielding cold. He just wanted to go home.

The left door opened, and Scar did not hear it. Something approached, and with his face pressed against the wall, Scar did not see it. A hand touched his shoulder, and as he’d always responded: fight, he whirled around in adrenaline fueled terror, claws raking through the stomach and legs of his attacker.

Cub stumbled back with a yelp and fell on his ass, arms shaking slightly with the effort of holding himself up at an awkward angle. For a moment Cub stared dumbly, shirt, pants, and skin newly torn, and Scar fixed him with a snarling glare before pushing his muzzle back into the wall. If Cub wanted to watch him cry, then let him. If Cub felt bad, then Scar hoped he’d feel worse.

Cub did not speak, so it was easy to pretend he was not there. Moderately easy at least. Occasionally Cub would shuffle around, Scar’s ear would swivel toward the noise, and Cub would cease, stilling for as many minutes as he deemed necessary for it to be safe to move again. This cycle repeated several times until Scar’s fur prickled at the sense of closeness, not good or bad, just there, and again Cub stilled, like even a deep enough breath would shatter Scar, or more likely, set him off, leaving one dead and very maimed Cub behind. The more Scar thought about it, the more he was sure it was the latter, Cub seeing just how far he could push it before Scar gave in to Cub and Cleo’s game of scream, fight, kill.

Something wet touched the back of Scar’s neck, so unexpected and utterly disconcerting that all the hair at his shoulders stood on end as the Dampness was drawn upward, along with the presence of a face. It withdrew.

Stiffly, Scar turned around, horror fighting with confusion and the residual sadness. He sniffled, struggling to turn his microphone back on.

“Did- Did you-“ Scar broke off, grappling with his hoarse throat, “-fucking- just lick me?”

Cub stared back blankly, tongue poking through his lips. “I thought. That was what I had to do. I had to do it.” Equally deadpan, he continued, “Are you better now.”

Scar gaped at him, and when the wires in his brain reconnected, he threw up his arms, “No!”

“Why not.”

“Why- It’s so- Yours is so wet!”

“Is your mouth not wet. I can answer that. It is wet. I know because you used to lick me constantly. Why do you have such a problem, this is how cats fix each other. I did it.”

“You haven’t done anything.”

“I did. I licked you.”

Scar huffed, deflating. “I guess you did, huh.”

“I did.” Cub preened, Scar snorting a short growl in turn, pushing back into the wall. Briefly, he nibbled on one of his paws, ruffling the area behind his neck where he had been violated.

“Don’t do it again.” Cub did not, but he didn’t move, either, he just sat there, close enough for Scar to feel his presence, to feel his eyes boring into the back of Scar’s head. His ear pinned, but still Cub did not move. “Don’t you have everywhere else you could be right now?” Scar hissed, but as far as he could tell, Cub did not react.

“Would you rather be scratched?”

…

………

“..yes.”

Scar did not say anything else, nor did he need to, Cub starting with the heavy hitters; reaching over his head to get at his forehead, gentle at first near the bridge of his nose, then hard near the top of his head, fucking hell, it was just right, scratching like he was trying to pull Scar’s skin right off, the only way to do it. Scar just about died when Cub worked behind his ear, it was so unfair how effortlessly good he was at this, forget dying, Scar was going straight to heaven when Cub began to massage his scruff.

“I still. Don’t like you.” Scar had to reiterate, just to make sure.

Cub shrugged. “I’ve never been particularly fond of cats. I guess you’re alright.” Scar didn’t bother responding, but apparently Cub wasn’t done, the quiet only lingering a short while before he broke it. “Did you get sick when you were alone? After you ate me.”

Scar was momentarily pulled from his Good Scritches induced daze, confusion twitching his whiskers. “I.. Got sick. Not from you though. Cleo.”

Cub stopped for a moment; speaking, scratching, all of it. “You ate Cleo?” he sounded genuinely stunned, maybe even hurt if the idea wasn’t completely ridiculous.

“A little bit. I stopped after I got sick.”

“Did you throw up?”

Scar’s ear pinned, nose wrinkling distastefully, “At the beginning, yes.”

“What color?”

“I don’t know,” Scar snorted, shaking out his fur, “Dark. I wasn’t studying it. Probably looked a lot like raw meat and other disgusting shit, what’s your problem?”

“Did it look like stars?”

Scar had to turn around to stare, judgment written in every crease of his sour expression. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“I was just wondering.”

“Does your puke have stars in it?”

“Not literally, but yeah, kinda. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten sick like that, but if I did it would have stars. I bet it’d look a lot worse than yours.” Cub paused, seeming to reconsider. “No, actually raw human meat puke is about as bad as it gets.”

“I hate humans. You guys are terrible.”

“Oh, it’s not a human thing. It’s a sculk thing. That’s why I was wondering. I can’t think eating Cleo is much better than eating me, at least, I probably wouldn’t want to eat Cleo with the whole being dead thing. I mean. I guess she wasn’t dead for very long. But depending on whether or not you think she’s really alive or just an animated corpse, it’s.. questionable. I wouldn’t eat them. Objectively though, eating me just isn’t a good idea. I’d bet a lot of money I was probably the one that made you sick unless you got food poisoning, which, still could have been me. I guess I don’t really know anything besides the fact that you threw up.”

“You- You think I got infected?”

Cub stared blankly. “Yep. Well. Maybe. Most likely. I mean, you ate me. That would do it. Sculk’s not very motivated to go anywhere right now, but if you let it in.. I mean, Cleo’s gotten sick once or twice also, it’s not a big deal. I was just curious.”

“Cleo- Cleo ate you?”

Cub pursed his lips, looking no less mild. “..No.”

“But I- I don’t understand. I didn’t- If I see anything sketchy I don’t eat it-”

Cub snorted. “Doesn’t matter for me, bud. I’m sick all over. Don’t let that stop you though. Well. Maybe you should refrain for this loop, this layout is looking pretty good. But otherwise, it takes a couple days to actually get you sick. If you’re looking for a good time with me, these next years are the best hypothetical times to do it. I know we won’t be seeing each other after this, but I guess I just mean you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m sure you’ll be pumped full of every weed killer Earth has at its disposal and won’t be let go until they’re 100% sure you’re clean, so no need to be concerned about bringing anything home.”

Scar had not been all too concerned about bringing sculk home before this, but he certainly was now. Cleo had told him the infection could spread through consumption as well; how had this never occurred to him? He’d known he hadn’t gotten food poisoning.. He stopped eating Cleo just to be safe, but getting sick from food was far more unpleasant, he’d figured he just caught some human disease.

But he’d gotten better, hadn’t he? He wasn’t seriously ill for more than a week. Cleo had said it was pretty obvious if you had sculk sickness; you could see it in your skin, but Scar hadn’t really noticed anything.. then again, he had a coat of fur to hide it. He didn’t remember anything wrong with his waste, but he didn’t spend a lot of time staring at his piss and shit, maybe humans did!

“I don’t think I got your sickness.”

“No?” Cub looked amused, which Scar responded to with a show of teeth and a growl.

“No. I didn’t stay sick. Just got a human bug, then I was fine for weeks.” Scar let his sneer fall when Cub’s sly smile fell to something more attentive.

“Really? Often you become ill for a bit while your body tries to kill the external threat, then things calm down. For a little bit at least, but again, the sculk knows it’s trapped up here, it isn’t in any rush.” Scar valiantly ignored the implications of that, easier when Cub continued, “No symptoms of any kind of sickness afterward? Weakness, aching, a kinda odd internal tingling? Almost like your blood itches, did you feel any of that?”

Scar shrugged, though he was uncertain more than anything. “I don’t think so. Health wise, I don’t think I’ve ever been better. Might’ve been the first time in my whole life I haven’t felt weak and kinda- achey, as you put it.”

“Really?” Cub said, like he’d never heard anything more fascinating. “Well the sculk didn’t do that to you, that’s for certain.”

“I know it wasn’t the sculk.” Scar snapped, but Cub didn’t flinch, still thoughtful.

“Life’s not so easy back home, is it.”

Scar frowned, ear curving back. No, it wasn’t. He didn’t want to talk about it, he never wanted to talk about it, but he didn’t really have the energy to refute it anymore either. He didn’t have to say it outright for the humans to know. His behavior painted a clear enough picture of his past. Cub did not push. He did not have to, Scar spoke freely.

“You do what you can for the kids. They do what they can for their kids if they can even bear to have them. I’m not bringing anyone into the world, that’s for certain. I don’t think- How could you ask a little one to eat when they know you won’t? Kids aren’t stupid, you know. They go and cannibalize each other to cope with it. I have bad genes. I can’t subject anyone else to that.”

Cub stared so blankly at him that Scar was certain he wasn’t going to say anything at all. “That’s fucked.”

“It’s how it is.”

“You really think if you have a kid the other toddlers will eat him? That’s crazy. Do you guys just eat each other all the time?”

“Wh- What- No, you- Where did you- No!”

Cub raised his hands meekly. “I misunderstood. Catfolk do not eat each other.”

“Well- No, we eat the dead. But not anyone still alive, for goodness’ sakes! I have to hope humans aren’t eating each other alive, either!”

“You eat your dead? God damn.”

“You don’t? What- What do you do with them!?”

“Uh, bury them, usually. Well, actually most people get cremated. Loved ones spread the ashes in their favorite places, rituals like that. Cannibalism is very frowned upon, we do not eat each other. Big social taboo.”

“That’s- What a waste!”

Cub laughed, “That’s what I’m saying! I’m not saying that.”

“Clearly you’re not all that fussed about it.”

“I am not considered normal by most human standards. Normal, likable, pleasant in any capacity; they hate me because I’m a threat to the system, Scar. And the crime. They also hate me for the crime, which is fair, I think that’s fair. But so what if I’m a little bit of a freak, that’s my own business.” The way Cub said it suggested he reveled in the idea of making it everyone else’s business, but Scar wasn’t about to say that.

“That’s great,” he said instead, turning back around to let his head thunk back against the wall. As weird and not-quite-unpleasant as this little conversation was, Scar was ready to go back to moping. Astutely, Cub seemed to understand the conversation was over, though he didn’t leave like Scar wished he would. Instead, Cub returned to scratching around his head and shoulders, which Scar begrudgingly accepted. If Cub insisted on being here, he may as well make himself useful. Scar made sure not to look too pleased about it.

“You know,” Cub started speaking, which was a significant downgrade to the silence, though Scar had not yet decided if the unpleasantness of Cub talking to him outweighed the scritchy scratches, “I am learning things about myself tonight, which I hate doing. I’m pretty good at convincing myself I’m all figured out, that there’s never any reason to change, right? But I’m starting to think I might be a bit of a pussy baby. Like a little bit. Not 100% pussy baby status, but y’know. Not as justified as I’d like to be.”

Scar snorted, saying nothing else. Cub didn’t seem to mind.

“I did not come here to apologize to you, I don’t really care about you. I didn’t like upsetting you, not because I’m particularly invested in your well-being, but because it was annoying that you were saying things to me that I didn’t like, and doubling down on those things that I didn’t like kinda pissed me off, so I had to come settle this, come over and tell you why you’re wrong. Because I’m tired. I’m sick, my skin itches under the surface and my organs are cannibalizing themselves, my eyes don’t work, and all the things that are wrong with me will always be wrong with me until I die, so I lot of the time I feel like I’ve earned the right to act however I want to, because no one really gets it, right? No one gets it, no one wants to get it in the name of my own wellbeing, and no one will respect my life for the months I have left when this is over, which, like, fine, that’s fine, I haven’t decided whether or not I’m deserving of any sort of respect.”

Maybe Cub was waiting for a reaction, but Scar didn’t care to give him one, especially because he’d stopped scratching, which was his main concern and the most annoying thing about Cub’s senseless raving.

“I thought I’d get you to understand what it’s like for me. Not so you’d pity me, fuck, but just so you would leave me alone, don’t bring up Cleo or anything else anymore, but then I told you that you’d gotten sculk sickness and you said to me you didn’t notice-”

“I did not catch your stupid alien disease!”

“There is literally no way you did not have it. Anyway, even if my chronic issues are multiplied by a hundred from the symptoms someone would experience in the beginnings of sculk sickness, it is a little unfathomable to me that you just didn’t notice. And then it occurred to me you’ve been on the verge of starving to death your entire life, and on top of that no one back home respects you, but you’re still kinda working on being a good guy, and I was like wow Cub, you’re kind of a pussy baby for throwing a fit over being asked to stop being a dick every time you breathe words-”

“I- That is not true! I am very respected! I’m a hero back home!”

“Didn’t look that way to me. Anyway-”

“Not ‘anyway’! I don’t know about you, but I am perfectly adored on my planet!”

Cub raised an eyebrow, more expressive in his doubt than Scar had ever seen from him, then continued like Scar hadn’t spoken, “Anyway. For the sake of my own self-image, a little bit for Cleo, and not at all for you, I’m willing to give Not Being A Dick All The Time a shot, but I probably won’t do a very good job, and I will not be held accountable for hurting any feelings because I don’t care. I think I can manage to bring the Prick-O-Meter down to.. 80%. That’s probably the best you’re gonna get out of me, and it might be a stretch. I don’t need to tell you I’m a natural born piece of shit, which is to say, severely emotionally stunted. That’s what Cleo says anyway. I’d tell you she’s got some emotional stunt-age going on herself, and honestly, I’ll probably tell her that too if it comes up, but now there’s a 20% chance I won’t. Unless they deserve it. Which they often do. But I can play nice. Lie, that’s a lie, I can not do that, but I can try to do that.”

“That’s.” Scar didn’t really know where to go from there, and honestly, he wasn’t sure he processed 95% of what Cub had even said to him, but. Well. Maybe it was something. Maybe Scar was too tired to comprehend it all right now. “Sure. Great. Keep scratching.”

“Yes, sir.”

Scar closed his eyes under the weight of Cub’s nails, drifting as the touch softened, soon, falling entirely to darkness. It had been a while since he’d fallen asleep like this, sitting up, nowhere near comfortable, but his eyes were so dry and his mind was entirely shot, and moving back to the safe room had not even occurred to him. Apparently it had not occurred to Cub either, the both of them draped over each other when Scar woke later, who knows when, back on fire and limbs stiff, but Cub was still asleep, and Scar did not want to rouse him. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe this reminded him of home.

[kodzue-ken]

Peach Blossoms

Atsushi x gn!reader x Akutagawa

3.1k words

warnings: none! lots of fluff, atsushi is sick but that's it

It began when you met a boy lying face down in an alleyway. 

You had been throwing away your trash from the bakery and were unsure what was happening, but noticed that he hadn’t eaten anything in a long time. While you were aware of some of the things happening in Yokohama, you still felt the need to do something. Grabbing the male under his arms, you lugged him into the bakery, glad you had left the trash for last in your clean-up routine. You dragged him over to a booth and slid him into it; as you did so, you noticed how thin and scrawny the male looked. His clothes were torn, covered in dirt, and you swept the long lock of his platinum hair out of his face, putting a hand on his forehead to check for a fever. Not feeling anything, you moved towards the counter and walked behind it. You grabbed a clean washcloth and ran it under warm water, moving over to fill a tea kettle and put it on the stove. Grabbing a plate and moving back towards the unconscious man, you placed the plate with the washcloth in front of him, to use once he woke up.

The small bakery was tucked away in a small corner of Yokohama and belonged to your dear friend, who had gone on a trip to Tokyo and left you to take care of things. You made sure the workers left to get home safely while you finished cleaning. You began to cook up a small meal, casting a concerned glance over to the male. He stirred awake as you finished cooking, causing you to snicker while adding the finishing touches.

“Hello,” you said, causing him to jump while you laughed a little. “I’m (name), I found you lying outside and wanted to help. The cloth in front of you is for you, and I've made some food,” you placed the plate down in front of him and smiled when you met his eyes.

They were gorgeous colors. Split horizontally with yellow and purple, which stood out against the soft peach and white colors of the bakery. As you smiled at him, your eyes widened as his lips began to wobble, gorgeous eyes filled with crystalline tears.

“F-for me?” He asked, “d-do you want anything?”

“For you to eat!” You reached a hand forward but paused as you caught the horrified flash in his gaze. You pulled back and awkwardly brought your hand down: attempting to act like it didn't happen and trying to not draw attention to how scared he looked at that moment. You tapped the table in front of him, drawing his attention to the two plates and cup of tea.

You turned away from him, staring at the peach blossom decorations scattered throughout the cafe. You heard the soft clinking of silverware as he began to eat.

“I’m Nakajima Atsushi,” he said, voice so small you almost missed it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nakajima,” you smiled.

As the evening went on, you enjoyed the time you spent with Nakajima, even offering him a place to stay for a bit. His eyes grew wide and he shook his head, stumbling over his words as his eyes darted around, growing paler by the minute. He stumbled to his feet as words tumbled out of his mouth. You stood, attempting to try and calm him down. With a rushed gasp and a jumble of words; a mixture of ‘sorry’, ‘I’m sorry’, ‘I have to leave’, and ‘don’t want you getting hurt’ all spilled out of his mouth as he stumbled towards the door.

“Nakajima!” You cried, reaching a hand out while watching the fearful male slam the door closed behind him.

You thought that had to be the first and last time you saw Nakajima Atsushi. The sweet male who had left so fast it left a bitter taste in your mouth. Your friend returned from Tokyo like a whirlwind and you found yourself thinking about Nakajima when you had a moment to rest. Days passed and you found yourself spending time in the peach-themed bakery just staring out the window. Your friend had laughed and slid a slice of cake your way, “I’m sure he’ll reappear, I’m more impressed you managed to drag him into the bakery!”

You scoffed but smiled back at her as you began to eat the cake. As the two of you joked and laughed around, you both turned towards the door when there was a small chime.

“Nakajima!” You cried, sliding off of the stool and rushing towards the male who had just entered, the hat-wearing male at his side laughed and turned his closed-eyed gaze towards you. He smiled wide and went to say something before his attention drifted to the slice of cake that was sitting on the counter and raced over; your friend swiped it off the counter and waved her hand at the display case, striking up a conversation.

“I’m sorry,” Nakajima’s voice was quiet and filled with guilt. “I didn’t mean to rush off like that.”

“I forgive you, Nakajima,” you smiled, “I’m glad you’re looking better.” You made eye contact with the male and watched as his eyes widened and then a warm smile formed.

“Thank you!” He smiled.

“Come on, let's get you something sweet, don’t be a stranger, okay? We’re friends; so don’t be afraid to come say hi!” Nakajima’s warm, shy smile turned into a blinding grin as he followed you.

On a cold December day, there's a knock on Atsushi's window. Atsushi himself is curled under a pile of blankets while you try to get him to have a sip of tea, worried for your friend. Because of this, you miss the series of knocks on the window and only notice something is wrong when there’s a sudden cold breeze and a voice.

“Weretiger.”

You snap your head up, tea forgotten, and try to throw yourself over Atsushi's limp body, eyes widening as they stare at the male who let himself in through the window. You weren't a member of the agency or even had an ability, but you were Atsushi's friend. So you understood that the creep who just let himself in through Atsushi's window (when no one outside of the agency should have known where he was living) was not a person who should be around Atsushi on a good day, let alone while he's sick and barely conscious. You cared too much for Atsushi to let anything happen to him while you were around.

“Ryuu…?” Atsushi murmurs, blinking blearily and wrapping his fingers around your arm, the closest thing he could grab.

“Atsu?” You ask, torn between staring at Akutagawa and checking on your friend.

“It’s fine… won’t harm… no killing…” Atsushi mutters, becoming slightly more coherent as he notices who's in his room.

“Uh, okay…” You trail off, lifting your body off Atsushi’s but not taking your eyes off Akutagawa who stares back.

“I heard you were sick,” Akutagawa says, speaking to Atsushi while staring at you.

“Mhmm,” Atsushi agrees, fingers still wrapped around your arm and slightly tugging on it, “don’t worry, it’s okay, he’s just checking up on me,” he says, letting go of your arm when you went to adjust the way you were sitting.

“That’s… nice of him,” you say, bringing a hand to run through Atsushi’s hair and still trying to ignore the pressing stare that hadn’t moved from where it was burning into the side of your head. “If I go make some food, you won’t be dead when I come back?” You ask, deciding that if Akutagawa was breaking into Atsushi’s house and he wasn’t freaking out, then it was probably fine to leave them alone for a moment.

“I wouldn’t kill him. We made a bargain,” Akutagawa says, still staring. You're almost sure he hasn't blinked the whole time he's been in the house.

“Okay then,” you say, nodding your head and standing, moving towards the door, and stepping out into the common area. You glance over your shoulder and don’t hear the immediate sounds of fighting and assume things will be okay. You enter the kitchen and begin to make a batch of chazuke, which you hoped would make Atsushi feel better, as well as being your lunch.

You also assume that you should make enough to feed Akutagawa unless he had decided to just show up, stare at Atsushi, and then leave right back through the window he entered from.

Smiling, you begin to portion out some of the rice into bowls, taking care to make sure to let it cool a bit before adding anything on top of it. You turn back towards the stove to grab the plate of chicken, jumping when you turn around the sudden appearance of Akutagawa standing a few feet away, staring at you.

“Um.” You blink, “I’m (name), it’s nice to meet you,” you say, setting down the plate and bowing your head slightly. Akutagawa nods back and doesn’t move.

“Akutagawa.”

“Do you want some food?” You ask, putting the chicken into the bowls and then moving towards the tea kettle. Akutagawa watches your movements and only nods, staying where he was. You slowly pour the tea over the rice and chicken before you pick up one bowl and start moving towards Atsushi’s room, Akutagawa stepping to the side slightly as you pass. You knock on the door slightly and then enter the room, smiling at Atsushi who's sitting up, but still leaning on the pile of pillows. Akutagawa brushes past you when you open the door and settles himself by Atsushi’s side.

“I made some food, chazuke. You don’t have to eat the chicken but I think the protein might help you feel better,” you say, setting down the bowl next to him. “Oh! I forgot-”

“Here,” Akutagawa suddenly thrusts a spoon into Atsushi’s hands and nods to himself, his eyes holding a glimmer of pride that he helped. Atsushi smiles gratefully and slowly picks up the bowl, beginning to eat.

“We’re just gonna be outside, okay? Eat up, I’ll come check on you in a bit,” Atsushi nods, mouth full. You leave the room, not bothering to see if Akutagawa is following; just leaving him to do what he wants. As you settle down in the dining area, you begin to eat your food. Eyes focused on the bouquet of peach blossoms you had brought over. Akutagawa appears after a moment and moves towards where you are sitting. He doesn't speak, just pulling out a chair and settling himself into it. Deciding not to say anything, you nod your head in acknowledgment and move on, still eating your food quietly.

Akutagawa suddenly let out a rough cough, bringing his hand to cup his lips. You turn your attention to him before asking softly: “Are you sick as well? If you don’t feel good, it’s okay to rest on the couch. I can bring you a glass of water,” you smile. You were unaware of whatever things he and Atushi had going on, but you knew that you were Atsushi’s friend and if he didn’t have any issues with the male then you didn’t have a place to say otherwise. Especially since you couldn’t try and fight him.

As the words left your lips, Akutagawa fixes you with the most soul-crushing stare, which was surprising; he had practically been keeping the same stare on his face since he crawled through the window at you. “I am fine.” he says, “and I don’t require your aid,” he finishes, before dissolving into another coughing fit, grabbing a napkin off the table and holding it up to his mouth. You just watched him, unsure of the best response. Your brain itched to offer him a warm cup of tea, but the way he's been staring at you gave you the feeling that maybe you should just let him be.

“Okay,” you say, standing up and collecting your now empty bowl, flashing a smile before moving back into the kitchen, placing the bowl into the sink, and moving behind his chair to check up on Atsushi.

Atsushi had finished eating and laid the bowl next to him, staring out the window as you entered the room. You sat by his futon and brought your hand to his forehead.

“How are you feeling? Do you want anything else?” You ask softly, taking your hand away and bringing your hand to your lap.

“Tired. I wanna sleep,” he murmurs, turning over so that his gaze meets yours. You smile at him and nod your head.

“That’s okay, get some sleep and I’ll figure something out with our house guest,” you hum, fingers brushing through Atsushi's hair as he lets out a soft purring noise. You pull away and stand, collecting his bowl and slipping out of the room. 

Akutagawa was still where you had left him, staring at his bowl and moving the food around. “If you don’t like it, I can make something else,” you say, moving towards the kitchen and beginning to clean the dishes. You don't hear anything from the mafioso, so you shrug and keep cleaning.

As you put the dishes onto the drying rack, you grab a kettle and place it on the stove to boil water. You turn and nearly scream when you spot Akutagawa standing in the doorway, holding his things. He barely passes you a glance as he puts his things in the sink, keeping an eye on where you are standing. You watch him, unsure of what to do. He slowly edges out of the kitchen and you don't say anything as you turn back to the kettle that's now boiling. You pull three cups from the cabinet and set them off to the side while you finish making the tea.

Once the tea is finished - you did your best to ignore the horrible coughs coming from where Akutagawa was sitting, flinching whenever you heard it - you step back into the sitting area and spot Akutagawa settled on the couch, a cloth held up to his lips. The cloth is dotted with red, making your heartache. As you move towards him, he tucks the handkerchief into his coat pocket and fixes a stare onto your face. Before he can say anything, you place the cup in front of him and smile.

“It’s just a cup of tea, there’s some honey and milk in it to soothe your throat. If you need anything else, just let me know, okay?” You smile, acting before thinking as your hand passes over his head and lightly scratches at his scalp, humming as you turn away. You grab a blanket from the side and pull it over his form, adjusting it so he looks comfortable.

As you turn, you don’t have a chance to think about how you were still alive and not injured as you move towards Atsushi’s door. You slip into his room and put the cup of tea by his bed. Atsushi's asleep and curled into a small ball, eyelids fluttering as he exhales. You move out the door and towards the sitting area, blinking slowly and realizing how tired you are.

You settle onto the open couch, not sparing a glance over to Akutagawa, who, once again, has a stare fixed on you. You cough a little and lay down, making sure the tea is off to the side, and begin to close your eyes. As you drift off, you feel something warm being pulled over your shoulder.

You wake up sometime later, suddenly aware of how dry your throat is, how heavy your limbs feel, and how much effort it takes to pry your eyes open. Once they're open and you have a moment to adjust, you let out a gasp as your eyes meet Akutagwa’s, who is crouched in front of you, eyes staring into yours while he frowns.

“You’re breathing.” He speaks, still staring.

“Ye-yes?” You cough out, disoriented.

“Good.” He nods his head. 

“Is that… a bad thing?” You ask, trying to make sense of what he is saying.

“Hm,” Akutagawa grunts, standing and bringing a hand to your shoulder and tugging the blanket a little more. He doesn’t say anything else before moving away, heading towards Atsushi’s room. You go to follow: beginning to sit up. As you move, there’s suddenly something wrapping around your shoulder, tugging you back onto the couch; confused, you follow the motions. Once you are seemingly settled onto the couch, a small black tendril grabs the blanket that's pooled around your waist and tugs it up to your shoulders. As your head settles onto the armrest, the ability brushes over your head once you are comfortable and you bring your eyes over to Akutagawa who is standing in front of Atsushi’s door, watching you. The ability moves back to him and tucks itself into his jacket; he coughs, nods at you, and enters the room. 

Atsushi gets better in a few days, and you’re glad you could help him. You don't understand what Akutagawa was doing in his house. Unsure of the best way to say something, you hover around the subject for a bit; Atsushi picks up on your mood and speaks up.

“We made a deal,” he says, “a no-killing deal. We kept running into each other for long enough that I guess that he decided to show up once I missed the meet-up.” You raise an eyebrow in his direction, before shaking your head and smiling.

“I won’t say a word,” you smile, adjusting the way you were sitting until your head laid on his shoulder. You can’t see Atsushi’s face from the direction you’re facing, but you can feel his shoulders relax

You wake up the next day aching. Your throat aches, your limbs ache, and your eyes are so blurry you aren’t sure what’s happening in front of you. You can hear soft voices and as you go to sit up, there’s a shushing noise and something cool being placed on your forehead. You let out a little mumble and can recognize the giggle that sounds near you.

“Atsu?” You murmur, blinking and reaching a hand out to grasp his.

“Akutagawa too,” Atsushi says quietly, nudging your hand and taking it in his. You can hear Akutagawa mumble something and then something warm wrapping around your shoulders. You begin to drift off again, hearing Atsushi’s voice slowly fade away, only lucid enough to curl into the warmth settling by your other side, a hand reaches and begins to glide through your hair. Right before you doze off you feel Atsushi wrap his arms around your back and allow your head to fall on his shoulder. You happily doze off now, feeling warm and safe.

[magnolia-among-the-stars]

fat funny friend (jake seresin pt 8/?)

PART OF MY “WHATEVER THIS IS” SERIES WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE

PAIRING: JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN x Female Plus Size Bartender!Reader

NICKNAME: Sunshine

Warning: A bit of self-body shaming

It goes without saying but I do not give permission for anyone to use my work or copy it somewhere else.

PLOT: Penny Benjamin’s niece works at The Hard Deck, saving the money she earns to get out of the west coast and put herself through Graduate School. What happens when a pretty boy pilot ends up as her fake boyfriend?

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN / PART ELEVEN / FINAL PART

Two weeks. It had been two weeks and the pain of Jake’s absence took a heavier toll on you than you had previously expected, and you weren’t sure how much more you could handle it. Your home had become a hollow and messy disaster of a landing zone, blankets everywhere along with half eaten containers of take-out food. You hadn’t showered in a few days, your hair now only spun up into lackadaisical buns as you wiped your mouth on your sleep shirt and closed your eyes to the sound of the next rerun of Law & Order: SVU.

In the days immediately following Halloween, you were sure he was going to call, apologize for his lack of communication. You had tricked yourself into thinking perhaps he had a horrifying call to action and had been on an aircraft carrier before dawn.

But days later, you ran into Phantom and Rooster while they were out for coffee. Bradley looked at you confused, a wash of a smile etching on his face. It told you he knew, somehow and that smile made all these fantasies crumble out of your head and sent you into a spiral of pain and rejection in a way you never thought possible.

You’d let Jake in, all the way. Something you had vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t do again without great sacrifice. Instead, you were met with resistance and insecurity that bubbled through your chest and burned your esophagus raw as you wept and screamed out into the abyss of your lonely apartment. You took a few days off work, Penny texting back with a knowing ‘Take your time.’ You felt sick, throwing up in hopes that the weight in your tummy would dissipate but to no avail.

            A knock on your door startled you awake out of a groggy fog, a numb vibration coming over you from your spot on the couch. You groan a little, turning away from the door to rest your face against the fabric with a heavy sigh. The loud banging continues on, and you grunt again, turning back to roll off the couch. You mosey over to the front door and check the window, only to pull the door open. “Nat, now isn’t a good time.”

            “What the hell happened?” she demands, stepping inside and past you without hesitation. Her harsh tone takes you by surprise and your shoulders push back as you find energy for the first time in weeks.

“What the hell happened?” you repeat with an almost mocking tone. “Well, let’s see,” you cackle with a bitter wave rushing through your body. “What happened is that Bagman did what Bagman does best. He hung me out to dry.”

“What?” the word falls out of Nat’s mouth in a way she can’t help. “That’s impossible.”

“Well, if you’ve come here to mock me Nat, you can fuckin’ go because I've had it with Naval Aviators fucking destroying my subconscious so,” you pace over to the front door and swing it open. You stare expectedly at her as her stance deflats suddenly, her gaze downcast as she starts to swallow down what you’ve just blurted out.

“No Y/N, I’m not trying to,” she takes a slow and heavy breath before glancing back up at you. “Hangman is miserable. He’s a hollow shell of himself...I figured you’d stomped all over his heart because I’ve never seen him like this before.”

The mention of Jake’s state should tug at your heart strings. It should make your heart flutter that he’s so lost without you, and he’s so desperately broken that the absence of your presence was the clear notion to Nat that something must’ve happened. But you’re too bitter. Too broken to even have the slightest bit of sympathy for the piece of shit. A heartless, venomous cackle bubbles out of you in a way you’ve never experienced before. This is what he’s done...look what he’s turned you into.

“That’s hilarious. He’s a fucking wreck? Serves him right,” you slam the door shut and walk past her to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, your mouth going dry.

It’s the first time that Nat is finally taking in your figure, taking in the state of you as you move to the kitchen and tug the fridge door open. You’re less round than she remembers seeing you at the Halloween party weeks prior. You’ve got dark circles beneath your bottom lash lip and your stomach isn’t poking out as much as it used to. It worries her. “Y/N,” she tries again, her tone much softer this time as she approaches you. “What happened?”

You chug down the entire water bottle, letting the flush wash away any of the burning hunger in your stomach. Avoiding her gaze, you lean against the counter for support and take slow and steady breaths. Underneath all the feminine rage and anger, there’s insecurity ripping through your veins and cursing every inch of your body. You wish it into submission of a quiet hum as you glance up at her, wet lashes distracting her from the sniffle you make.

“What do you think?” Your sour tone isn’t directly for her; Nat knows that now as she steps closer.

Her arms are slowly approaching you as she tries to gently collect you into her embrace as your knees wobble, so shaky that you crumble to the ground as your mouth quivers and the dam breaks. She’s cooing as your ass meets the tile of the kitchen, your loud wails filling the quaint kitchen as she tries to hold you tight enough that the pieces of your soul don’t shatter.

“He left Nat,” you whimper, “He left me after we slept together for the first time. It took me so long to let someone in and,” you inhale the wet snot dripping from your nose. “I feel so embarrassed and so ashamed.” Your voice came out in slow, aching weeps as you looked down at your thighs.

All the body positivity, all the confidence in who you were faltering at the loss of a man who you weren’t even in a real relationship with. You were angry at yourself for even letting the thoughts to climb into your mind and rot your empowerment. “The man saw my body and then left…it really can shatter a person’s self-esteem if they aren’t careful,” you admitted and suddenly, Nat sees red. Nat sees this beautiful and vibrant person withering away in her arms and she can’t handle that. She won’t allow it when she’s grown so close with you.

So, she calls for re-enforcements, hatching a plan for the next evening to re-introduce you to bar life and get your mojo back. At 6:30 PM promptly the next day, she shows up as promised with Gemini and Aries in tow. Bags are tossed over their shoulders, and they’ve got bottles of Patron in hand as they grin lovingly. “Let’s ruin the fucker’s birthday,” Aries smirks as she places her bag down on the couch.

            Hours later, Nat leads the way as you approach the porch of the Hard Deck and friendly, familiar faces greet you in excitement. “God damn Sunshine,” a kind firefighter from town hollers, eyeing your short black top and daisy dukes. Your toes are freshly painted, and legs moisturized, you’d felt like a real person for the first time since that night on Halloween. And now, three weeks later – you had just begun to smile.

            “Thank you so much Benson,” you tuck a loose curl behind your ear and keep moving, the momentum bringing you through the door and into the Hard Deck. It’s in full swing when you glance around, slightly hoping that you don’t even notice him for the night. There’s a knot, continuing to twist and wind itself up and you find it a bit hard to breath just as you get to the bar top.

            “There’s my girl,” Penny calls out, rushing around the opening to wrap you in the tightest hug she can muster up.

            “Hi Pen,” you mumble back, enjoying the warmth of her embrace and pulling back to smile genuinely at her.

            “Nat told me the gist of everything,” she pursed her lips with a nod to your friend, a mischievous glaze to her wise eyes. “You give me the look and I will ruin that man’s whole life, starting with his wallet.”

            “That won’t be necessary Pen,” you squeeze her arms and pull back, “But I’ll take a tequila sunrise instead.” She nods with a wink, returning behind the bar to mix up the cocktails for you. You slide into one of the stools beside Aries when you hear it. The hoot of a Texan man gone wild. Him. You take a heavy breath, letting your gaze wander to his usual spot. Scratch that…your usual spot. And you wished you hadn’t because there he was with the men of the squadron, arm draped lazily over some skinny brunette’s shoulders as he pressed up against her ear.

            “He looks real torn up Nat,” you seethe, turning back to your friend and pushing off your stool when she pushes you down.

            “He only found the girl after he found out we were coming tonight,” Nat promises, taking a sip of her beer. “It’s sickening but I’ve got something to keep your mind off him,” she nods in the direction of the booth again. The weight of your purse burns against your hip when you square your shoulders and ready yourself to vomit when you turn back to the table. But your view is blocked by the frame of another man walking toward you, bright pearly whites gleaming as he approaches with an innocent smile.

            “Just play along and watch the magic of a fury,” Nat’s voice trails off as you sit up a bit straighter and tilt your head.

            “Hey Fanboy,” you greet the man a bit louder than your typical tone and he picks up the pace until he’s in front of you. He doesn’t stop his momentum though, not in the slightest as he leans forward and collects your cheeks in his hands to tug your mouth to his. His lips are silky smooth against yours, fresh minty breath refreshing as you breath him in. You cup the back of his head, nails scrapping against his scalp as he situates himself between your thighs.

            Slowly, ever so slowly, he’s leaning back as he rests his hands on either side of you, caging you in. You’re left trying to catch your breath as you smile widely, enjoying the sensation of his mouth over the expanse of your neck. This is a show, and you are a reoccurring main character. You’ve played this game before and now more than ever, you need believability. So, you wrap your hands around his slender waist and giggle slightly as his teeth drag along the column of flesh. “Fanboy, stop mauling my niece,” your aunt quips playfully, in on the gag as you slot your hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

            “Sorry Penny,” he pulls back, gazing at you lovingly. “She’s just irresistible.”

            “Well, take your asses away from my counter. You’ll scare off customers,” Penny calls, her voice carrying easily over to the table in the back where there is a booth tucked away from the patrons. Your booth. Your booth that is now occupied.

            “Want to take this party out to the bonfire?” Fanboy’s voice is low in your ear, causing you to shiver slightly and nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Eat your heart out Jake Seresin.

            “Are you fuckin’ serious?” Speak of the devil. You peer around Fanboy’s shoulder to see the blond seething, fists balled up at his sides. His jaw is clenched so tight you though the muscle there would snap from any further tension.

            “Can we help you?” you ask slowly, blinking at the man you had hopelessly fallen in love with. The man who slowly gained your trust and then ripped everything you knew out from under you. Fuck him.

            “You serious Sunshine?”

            “Don’t call me that,” you snap, eerily sharp. Your tone forces him back, hitting him square in the chest and a small flash of hurt creeps through his green eyes. Fuck him. “You don’t get to call me that…are you fucking serious?”

            Anger ripples over Jake again and suddenly, Nat’s shoulder to shoulder beside you while Fanboy still hovers to your front. You feel their strength building inside of you as you stare at Jake’s strong and broad chest. “It’s my birthday.”

            “And?”

            Jake scoffs at you, his hands sliding over his sharp hipbones. His fingers flex and it takes every ounce of will power to not think about how they felt against your cunt. “And you are making out with Fanboy right in front of my face. On my birthday,” his hand goes up in emphasis as if it isn’t perfectly clear what the two of you had been doing.

            “You’ve got some nerve.”

            “Me?” he sounds shocked.

You scoff, “Yes, fucking you Bagman.” You’re shaking now. How dare he. How dare he show up to your side of the bar months ago and be charming. How dare he flirt hard enough and still be so sweet and unassuming that you let him take you on a terrible date and then save you from your horrible ex. How dare he take you to your favorite bookstore, let you share all your favorite tropes and stories with him while he just hummed along and happily held your selections until you reached the counter. How dare he told you about his home life, about his sisters. About his mom, about his tough relationship with his father and the vulnerability they’d earned from each other over the years. About his fears of flying in a tin can in the sky at trillions of miles an hour. How dare he let you down when you tried so hard not to let him in.

You slide of your stool, suddenly exhausted. Suddenly deflated and with no burning fire in you to fight back. You felt small again and you hated feeling small, especially here in public. You were tired of hiding, tired of pretending.

Maybe that was what got you here in the first place. And he sees it and he’s got this burning in his chest that feels like acid reflux but worse. He watches as you slowly dig through your purse, saddling up until you were right in front of him. You tug your hand free of the contents within the bag to reveal a small box, black leather smooth to the touch.

“I hate that I did this but I know how much you said you would only get a new one if it was the exact one,” your words are so gentle, he’s not sure you said anything really…not sure if he imagined it. You couldn’t be this gentle with him, not after what Jake had done. “I hate that you make me feel this way…and I hate that I still don’t hate you,” you confess, pushing the box into his hands with a mumbled Happy Birthday.

And then he no longer feels your warmth in his space, feeling vulnerable and insecure all over again. But this time, he’s in front of an entire bar of people who definitely prefer you to him and he’s feeling self-conscious, so he rushes to the bathroom, out of the view of patrons. His hands fiddle with the box, unsure if he should even open it. That burning in his chest is getting worse and he’s pretty sure it would be better if he just cut out his throat to save himself.

But curiosity is a killer and Jake Seresin is weak, so he pries the box open only to immediately let out a whimper at the contents inside. Nestled between the velvet material is a 1942 Hamilton WWII wristwatch, just like his grandfather’s that he lost on his last tour. The very watch he cried about the first time the two of you drank a bottle of red wine on his porch, wrapped up on the swing under a blanket. Fuck.

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