#i would rather peel my skin off than make her just her assault SHE IS SO MUCH MORE THAN HER TRAUMA

[jet-set-go-go]

HUNGER HURTS.

[dykefight]

I want to share some of the experiences of my loved ones and myself that started leading me to radical feminism

One of my best friends (currently a 19 year old college student) used to have an onlyfans and currently sells underwear online. She says that the most humiliating moments of her life happened on onlyfans and similar websites. She had guys ask things like would she have sex with her brother, could she cry on camera, or if she would piss herself for them. There were two men she encountered that still make me sick to think about. The worst one was a man who regularly paid for videos of her pretending like she was being raped by him without a condom. She would beg for him to stop, not to impregnate her, and she cried and screamed. She was not allowed to get any pleasure from it or she wouldn’t get paid. The man only found pleasure in the idea of a teenage girl being traumatized and abused. The other man paid her to dominate him over the phone. He wanted her to control every aspect of his life. He was nearly 30 at the time while she was 18. The worst part of this ordeal was that they knew each other from when she was around twelve or thirteen. During this time I watched her mental health rapidly decline. Her poor mental health ended up causing her to quit less than a year after starting her account. Now she sells underwear and the conditions are no better. She’s been asked to sell worn underwear, underwear she’s pissed in, underwear with her period blood in it, and underwear she’s worn while masturbating. She has been masturbating so frequently that her skin over her clit has begun peeling. The idea that this is empowering her as a woman makes me sick. It’s basically a form of self harm. Anytime I mention that she might need to slow down she explodes, ranting about how she loves doing it, how it’s good money, and that it’s her choice. No woman should be brainwashed into that mindset.

Two of my other friends have been coerced by their boyfriends into sex that they didn’t want. One of them was guilt tripped into having anal sex by her boyfriend. She didn’t want to have sex until marriage, which he already knew prior. She said he looked so disappointed that she felt like she had to let him do anal. She also said this was easily one of the most painful experiences of her life. She ended up being pressured into vaginal sex only a few weeks later. Another friend was VERY adamant about saving any kind of sex until marriage. Her boyfriend pretended like this was totally fine until around a year into their relationship. He starting persuading her into giving him handjobs and blowjobs, insisting that they were meaningless acts and no big deal. She complied but still wouldn’t let him do anything sexual to her. Eventually he got impatient and decided to touch her while she was asleep on a school trip. She admits to being scarred from this, but insists that he didn’t mean any harm and that he wouldn’t do it again. In March, they were at a party together and had a fight. My friend is known for being a lightweight. While she was furious and drunk, her boyfriend was barely tipsy. He apparently decided that the best way for her to get over it was to push her into a room and have sex even though she was fully unable to consent. At some point, someone walked into the room, saw them, and told everyone at the party about it, including complete strangers. People still bring it up to her like it’s some funny story. Neither of my friends see anything wrong with their boyfriends or their actions. I, along with mutual friends, have tried to bring it up but they insist that it was a one time thing, their boyfriends didn’t know any better, and that we’re being over dramatic. It hurts me to know that they’re just one of many girls who dismiss sexual assault just because they’ve never been told what is wrong in a sexual relationship.

My mom was raped by my father while they were dating. My mom was raised in a very religious family so she saw premarital sex as one of the ultimate sins. She was okay with everything except penetrative sex. At some point, they were naked together and he saw that as an invitation. She froze up and couldn’t bring herself to stop him. That was how she lost her virginity. It wasn’t until she told me that she realized he raped her and that was only because I told her. She didn’t know she was raped until over 30 years later. She said she always thought she asked for it since she was naked around him and let him get close enough for it. She didn’t know that there are multiple types of rape until much later in life, so she never connected the dots. If she had known, she might’ve been able to save herself from the abusive marriage that followed.

Speaking of my mother and her marriage, she was also taught that getting a divorce was a sin in the eyes of god, especially if the wife initiates it. My mom couldn’t bring herself to divorce him in the beginning and then once she had kids she couldn’t divorce him until she made sure he wouldn’t get joint custody of us. She suffered through 35 years of abuse all because of some bullshit she had forced upon her since she was young. My grandma on my moms side experienced the same thing and wouldn’t divorce my grandfather who cheated on her and had a child with another woman.

These last ones are my own personal experiences. I, like many women, have faced sexual assault multiple times. The first time was when I was 12 and sexually assaulted by my long time family friend who was 15. He was best friends with my cousin who I am very close to so he also became a friend of mine. We also went to the same school. One day the three of us were at my cousins house and I was sharing a blanket with the friend. Under the blanket, he began to brush his hand along my ass which I thought was an accident since we were on a small couch sharing a blanket meant for one person. It soon escalated to him grabbing my ass under my jeans and through my underwear and then cupping my boobs. This was all while my cousin sat five feet away. When I finally got the courage to get out I got a text from the guy begging me not to tell my cousin. It took me nearly a month to tell my family and the school. My family said they would cut all contact with his family and the school said they would make sure I never had to be around him in a school setting. However, almost immediately, my family went back to being friends with his family and my school went back on their promise. Even though the guy confessed and I had the texts as evidence, he faced no real repercussions. Another guy continually harassed me over the course of our freshman, sophomore, and junior year. He’d do things like grab me, slap my ass, stick his hand down my uniform, grind against me during class while I was bent over, and he always found new ways to contact me after being blocked. When I finally told a teacher mid junior year, the way the school “punished” him was by having his football coach talk to him. This is the same football coach that’s known to indirectly slut shame girls in front of everyone. The guys behavior towards me didn’t change so I just gave up. I was never taken seriously when these incidents came to light. Everyone just assumed it was something to brush off. That it’d go away after a gentle scolding. Even my peers who say they’re all about protecting and defending women basically responded with “that sucks” and moved on.

I turned to radical feminism because it’s given me a place to be heard. I can speak my mind. Even if someone doesn’t agree with me, they’ll have a civilized discussion or simply move on rather than start an argument.

[quindolyn]

Midnight Walks || James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 4363

Note: Dedicated to 🦎anon from @/randomoutsiders blog. Where I live it’s already 84℉ so this completely feasible but if you don’t live in hell and it's still cold and wintery outside just push it back a few months.

Warnings: Insecure reader, like 2 sexual comments because I’m filthy, talk of men being pigs and not keeping their hands to themselves, lots of fluff, modern muggle au, monkey bars, public nonsexual stripping,

Masterlist

Part 2

There were ants in your bones, there must’ve been. Either that or someone was trying to feather dust their way out of them. Your entire body itched with the urge to move, to run, to scream and jump in the middle of the street. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what drove this overwhelming desire, perhaps it was some sort of primal reason coded into your DNA, alternatively maybe it was the sitting at your computer all day. One could only attend so many online classes before they went insane, and a decent way into your second semester and still no sign of going back in person anytime before the next school year. You were like a purebred who desperately needed exercise. It would’ve been a simple enough fix if it wasn’t already 10:17, the sun having set four or so hours ago, even though you lived in a pretty nice area you didn’t feel comfortable going out. Men were disgusting, and going out this late alone meant risking life and limb because too many men thought it was okay to touch what wasn’t theirs. Fucking toddlers. So instead you were forced to open your windows in attempts to replicate the natural breeze and try to find another outlet for your energy. You tried. You really did. Jumping jacks, planks, the few yoga poses you could recall off the top of your head, dancing around your house to your favorite songs, but the music didn’t feel like it usually did, even it couldn’t soothe the itching in your bones. You were fucked, simply and truly. Too energetic without the proper outlet. After none of those things worked you sat down to attempt to get some of your weekend homework done, but somewhere between ionization energy and confidence intervals you found yourself picking at your nail polish instead of paying attention to your work. Groaning you threw your head down onto your desk, wincing as the pain from the impact spread through your skull. Closing your eyes you tried to imagine it, the cool night air in your face, blowing through your mangled tresses, the thud of your feet against the pavement of the sidewalk, the feeling of the grass at the park tickling your exposed skin as you stared up at the cloudy sky, looking for stars. You swore you could almost feel it all, almost pulled into bliss when you were yanked from your reprieve by the buzzing of your phone. Groaning, you pulled your head up, it wobbled on your neck, as though it was loose and needed to be tightened. Had you wanted to you couldn’t have stopped the smile that broke across your phone when you saw the notification on your lock screen, a text from James. Can I call you? Sure. You typed out waiting anxiously for your ringtone to blare through your room. Instead you were met with another brief buzz. One second, Sirius is being an idiot. Another smile, smaller than the last, bloomed across your face, Sirius was often an idiot. Picking up your phone you pressed it to your ear just in time to hear James greet you. “Hey baby.” Loving James was potentially one of the easiest things you’d ever done, if asked you would've said it would be easier to stop breathing before you stopped loving him. There was just so much to love and as his voice tickled your ear you remembered one of the things you so loved about him, the sound of his voice. With two simple words he was able to soothe you, if only a little bit. But still the ache to be outside lessened a little. “Hi Jamsie.” You crooned into the phone as you shut down your laptop coming to the conclusion you were going to get jack shit done tonight. You distantly heard Sirius in the background but couldn’t make out any words, “Pads says hi.” James conveyed. “Hi Siri!” You yelled into the phone, you waited until the bickering and laughing on their side of the phone quieted before continuing, “Whatcha callin’ about bub?” “Missed you is all, was wondering what you were doing?” “Nothing much, tried to get some homework done.” James chuckled knowing how distracted you could get if someone wasn’t there to help you stay on track, “How’d that go?” “Not well,” You grumbled, “S’not my fault either, can’t focus. I just need some fresh air, I need to go on a walk but I can’t.” Flinging your body onto your bed and landing on your back you pulled the phone from your ear, turning it onto speaker and setting it on your belly, liking the vibrations against your body as James spoke. It was almost like he was there with you. “I’m sorry darling,” James knew exactly what you were talking about. Unlike a lot of men he wasn’t afraid to broach topics like these, he would sit and kiss your head if some guy at the grocery store had been a prick and couldn't keep his eyes or his hands off of your ass, or if one of the boys in your class had made an objectifying comment. He’d listen to you lament and apologize, on behalf of all men, for the disgusting things you were forced to deal with. He had learned a lot since you started dating, he’d always been a feminist but before you hadn’t really understood what that meant. His mother and father always made sure he was aware of gender biases and he’d heard stories of women being assaulted, harassed, discriminated against and perhaps it made him a bad person but when it happened to you, when you told him about these things it was different, it was worse, he couldn’t control the rage that bubbled up inside of him. You were (Y/N) (L/N), you were his, you deserved to be treated like royalty. No one got to disrespect you. He felt the pang in his heart when he pictured you holed up in your house, like a caged animal, desperate to get out. “I know, and I love you.” You responded, knowing he hated how you had to be afraid and cautious all the time. “I love you too.” “What were you doing before you called?” You asked after a beat. “Watching a movie with mom and Sirius.” A twinge of guilt twisted in your stomach, “Oh, you should go back to them Jamsie, I don’t want to keep you from your family.” James stopped himself before he could tell you that they’d already finished the movie as an idea hit him like most of his ideas hit him, suddenly and fleetingly. Remus once compared them to a freight train. “Okay angel, talk to you later.” “Bye, Jamsie.” He hung up immediately as the last syllable left your lips causing a frown to tug downwards at those aforementioned lips. Sure, you felt a bit guilty that he’d bailed on his mom and Sirius for you but you couldn’t help feeling a little sad that he was so ready to get rid of you the second he had a chance. Feeling all too familiar insecurity simmer from under your sternum questions popped into your head one after another. Did he really want to be with you? Was this all because he just pitied you? Were you just a substitute for Lily? Did his heart still belong to her? What did he even see in you? You couldn’t help but feel like nothing compared to her, she’s Lily Evans. And you’re, well you’re just not. Time had slipped away from you, you hadn’t realised how much until you felt your phone buzz against your stomach and saw that almost 15 minutes had passed since James had hung up on you. You only briefly noted the time before your eyes flashed down to the banner displayed across your screen, another text. Look out your window. Lifting your torso, propping yourself up on your forearms and twisted your head to see James’ smiling face plastered against your window, a huge, beautiful grin, stretching across his face. You could feel a matching one fan out across your face as you skipped to the window, pulling it open relishing in the cool breeze that let itself into your room. “Hey there handsome.” You joked. “Hey beautiful.” “What are you doing outside my window?” You were befuddled, wasn’t he supposed to be watching some Quentin Tarantino or equally violent movies that he and Siri liked? “I was thinking we could go on a walk,” He explained unabashedly. “A walk?” You asked, a blush blossoming on your face, creeping its way down your neck. “You wanted to go on one, yeah?” “I love you.” Was all you said in response, he caught you as you threw yourself into his arms, the middle of your thighs biting into the sill of your window, but you didn’t care. How could you? All you could focus on was the way his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you close to him so he could bury his nose into your hair. “Love you too darling.” There was a part of you, an admittedly large part, that wanted to stay standing there forever but the cool evening air reminded you about how much you wanted that walk. Peeling yourself away from him you placed your chin on his pectoral, not considerably comfortable for either of you, but you were close to each other, and that’s all that mattered. “Come in.” “I was waiting for you to ask.” He winked, slinging one leg over the windowsill giving him room to maneuver his rather large body through the small opening, but James had experience fitting his body into tiny things (namely your cunt). “Are your parents home?” “No, everyone’s gone for the night.” “Why didn’t you tell me baby, I would’ve come over and kept you company.” You felt heat creep back up your neck to your face, embarrassed by the answer. Though your insecurities could swallow you whole when you were alone, they seemed trivial when James was actually there, staring down at you with so much love in his eyes. “Don’t want to be clingy.” The confession bringing even more heat to your cheeks. “Never, (Y/N), absolutely never. If anyone here is clingy it's me not you.” You corrected him, “You’re wonderful.” “So are you bub.” Reassuring you he brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “Now come on! Let’s get some shoes on you and we can go out.”

James was filling up an old water bottle he found in one of the cupboards in case either of you got thirsty when you entered the kitchen, shoes and socks in hand. Your boy smiled at you, twisting the cap of the water bottle on all of the way before setting it on the countertop and moving towards you. “Want me to put your shoes on for you?” “Yes please.” You nodded, grinning cheekily. His large hands found your waist, lifting you up and setting your bum onto the cool counter. Slipping the socks from your hand he knelt down to roll them over your feet, leaving a kiss on the inside of each of your ankles. “You wanna walk to anywhere in particular?” “The park?” You offered, handing him one of your tennis shoes which were a little beat up, but still a long way from needing to be replaced. “The one with the fountain?” “Do you know of any other parks within walking distance?” You snarked, swinging your legs, feeling the need to be outside return, faster and more powerful than before. “Guess not,” He grumbled, looking up at you with a playful smile so you would know he didn’t really take your sarcasm to heart. “Hey watch it!” He chuckled when you accidentally swung your leg a little too hard and knocked his left shoulder with your socked foot. “Sorry.” You apologized looking about as sorry as Sirius usually did when he was apologizing, which honestly wasn’t much. “There you go Cinderella.” He said, as he pat your thigh once he finished tying your laces, rising from his kneeling position. “You think you’re funny do you Potter?” “In fact I do (L/N).” He grinned, sliding you off the counter, onto your feet. “Shall we?” You offered your hand to him which he accepted like a true gentleman. “We shall.”

You were right, but then again, when were you ever wrong? Fresh air was exactly what you needed, the feeling of the wind in your hair, the twigs snapping beneath your weight, the solidness of the ground. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this alive. That was probably stupid but it was liberating to be out of your house, and on top of it it was nighttime too. You weren’t often able to be out this late because you usually didn’t have someone to go out with. You had almost forgotten how beautiful it was when there was no glass separating you from the moon and the stars. Despite the fact that his legs were far longer than yours James still had to speed walk to keep up with you. His heart swelled seeing you so happy and carefree as you strode unapologetically down the sidewalk. “Stop walking so fast.” He complained, finally matching your stride as he loosely looped his left arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible while still keeping the two of you moving forward. “Not my fault you’re a slowpoke.” You retaliated but nevertheless still resting your head on his broad shoulder. “It’s nice out isn’t it?” He pondered aloud. “It’s wonderful,” You agreed, closing your eyes and turning your face up towards the sky, trusting James to guide you safely down the sidewalk, “I’m sorry you had to ditch your mom and Siri to come be with me.” You apologized as another wave of guilt from earlier hit you. “I didn’t bubba, we’d already finished the movie when I called you.” “Really?” Your head perked up. “Mhm.” James hummed. “Why didn’t you tell me that?’ “Wanted to surprise you.” He explained and your heart soared, he really was indescribably sweet. “Well I was surprised.” “Good.” “What movie did you watch?” Wondering if your suspicions had been correct. “Forrest Gump.” He responded by popping his “p”. You laughed squeezing two of James’ fingers on the hand splayed across your stomach. “What?” “Nothin’, just thought you and Pads would’ve made your mom watch Reservoir Dogs or something.” “Come on, you know me and Padfoot (Y/N), nothin’ but a couple of softies the two of us.” “Yes, yes you are.” You responded completely seriously. “You were supposed to disagree, he whispered into your ear. “I cannot tell a lie.” “Hey!” He exclaimed in mock offense. “Come on I found the two fo you cuddling when I came over Wednesday, he was literally spooning you Jamsie. It was rather cute really.” James let you have the last word and the two of you were silent for a minute as you passed a house with a line of cars in front of it, stupid fucking people and their stupid fucking parties. You thought, thinking they’re more important than the rest of us, that it’s okay to throw a party during the middle of a pandemic. “There’s a pandemic going on people,” James muttered as you crossed in front of the driveway, as though he was reading your thoughts. You just nestled into him more. Once you cleared the super spreader house it was only a few feet before you turned the corner and your desired destination came into view causing a ginormous smile to practically crack your face in half. “Come on Jamie!” You giggled, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the street towards the park, not even looking both ways as you bolted across the street to the park. You’d always thought that parks and playgrounds and such looked a bit creepy after dark and while today was no exception you still didn’t think twice before bounding up the steps of the play structure. Laughing, you turned your face back up towards the sky as you reached down to slip your shoes and socks off, tossing them off the play structure onto the wood chips scattered across the ground. “You look beautiful up there.” You hadn’t noticed James approach you, but he was now standing at the foot of the play structure, looking up at you. “Come up here with me Jamie, please?” You pleaded, tugging on his arm. “How could I deny you anything?” “Simple,” You responded, “You can’t.” Pushing himself up onto the structure he tried to envelop you in his arms but you squirmed away, giggling. As you ran toward the slide at the opposite end of the playground he broke out into a run after you, purposefully keeping his strides short to give you the upper hand. Breaking out into a sprint as soon as your feet touched the ground you raced towards the open field, James hot on your heels. He chased you around the perimeter of the grassy clearing, the two of you yelling at each other and laughing until your lungs hurt when he finally caught you in his arms, trying to get you as close to him as possible. He loved the feeling of your body against his more than he loved life itself. Or even Sirius. “What should I do with you now that I’ve captured you?” He mused tauntingly, tightening his grip on you. “Well I know one thing you could do to me.” You murmured. “(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N), get your mind out of the gutter Miss,” “Make me.” You teased, wiggling in his grasp. “I know what’ll fix your attitude.” James declared, adjusting his so his arms were around your waist instead of one there and one wrapped around your shoulders. “And what’s that?” “A nice February swim!” He roared jovially, hefting you over his shoulder as he bounded towards the fountain located on the east side of the park. “Jamie!” You shrieked as you bounced against him, “Slow down.” “Sorry Princess,” He huffed once you reached the fountain, he carefully lifted you off his shoulder and sat you down on the ledge of the water feature as he kneeled before you, hands pressing against your thighs. “Come on baby, go swimming with me?” “Course.” You smiled as you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, throwing it somewhere over Jamie’s shoulder. You didn’t bother watching where it landed, too enraptured with the gorgeous boy on his knees in front of you. “You look gorgeous (Y/N).” He murmured, taking it the sight of your bare stomach and chest clad in a lacy lavender bra. “I let you see mine, now get your shirt off Potter!” You commanded impatiently, you loved James all the time, but you especially loved James shirtless. “Okay, okay woman, calm down, I'm moving.” He playfully chastised shrugging off his jacket which you just now realised was his varsity jacket, his last name emblazoned across the back of it. When he caught you staring at him he teasingly played with the hem of his shirt, rolling it in the tips of his fingers until you lightly kicked his bent knee. He then discarded his pants, throwing them and his shirt somewhere to his right, carefully laying his jacket on a bench a few feet away he was left only in his boxers and you took this time to appreciate how his skin shown in the moonlight, his darker complexion brilliant in the darkness of the park. “You wanna keep your shorts on? He lilted, moving towards where you sat on the bench encircling the fountain. You nodded in response, not wanting to be so vulnerable in such a public space. “Okay baby sounds good.” James leaned in towards you pressing his lips to yours before he scooped you into his arms before stepping into the fountain, even though it was warm ish outside the water of the fountain hadn’t had enough time to truly heat up because the water that lapped at his midcalf almost had him feeling bad for what he did next. Which was dropping you into the freezing cold water, keeping you upright by his hold on your shoulders before you were able to ground yourself on the floor of the fountain. With water sprouting up from the top and cascading down 4 smaller tiers reminiscent of bird baths, getting larger and larger in radius as they went down, cold water nipped at your skin. “Agh!” You shrieked, “It’s freezing!” “Calm down drama queen!” James snorted, “Little cold water never hurt anybody.” “Speak for yourself!” Screaming as James bent down to splash you with water you tried to run away resulting in you falling backwards onto your bum. “You okay baby?” James asked nervously bending down next to you, surveying your near naked body for any cuts or bruises. Your response came as you looped your arms around his neck and pulled him down, submerging the entirety of his body in the chilly water. He quickly pulled you down with him so that your head was submerged, your hair billowing out around you in the water. When you pulled back up to the surface your wet hair was plastered to your face. And though you were cold, wet, and maybe a little banged up your heart was aflame, this had been exactly what you needed, to run around like a little kid and lose yourself, if only for a little while. Glancing back down your jaw dropped, the light coming from the fountain walls made the shadows of the water reflect on James’ dark skin making him look even more beautiful, like something out of a book. He took your temporary lapse as an opportunity to flip you around so that he was on top of you, he thought you were always stunning but something about you beneath him made you shine like nothing else he’d ever seen. Taking good care to make sure your head didn’t bump against the fountain, and that your head was above water, he trailed kisses from your temple to your jaw. When he reached your chin the second freight train of the night hit him head on and he stuck out his tongue licking from the point of your chin, up your lips, the bridge of your nose, and up your forehead until he reached your hair line where he left one more gentle kiss. “James Potter!” You shrieked, a giggling mess, “What the hell?” He lifted himself off you so he could once again scoop you into his arms, “Come on my little water nymph, let’s get you dry, don’t need you getting sick on me.” “Think you should’ve thought about that before you dunked me into the fountain in nothing but my bra and shorts.” You retaliated to which he only rolled his eyes, before shaking his head like a wet dog. “I swear to God Potter, you’re a Golden Retriever.” “Hmh?” He asked, stepping out of the fountain. “Playful, loyal, energetic, smart.” You explained, planting a kiss on his nose. “Shaking off to dry like a fucking dog.” “You love me.” He grinned, like the thought was just now hitting him, like you hadn’t said it already multiple times that night. “That I do Potter.” You agreed as he set you down on the bench where he had laid his jacket, taking care to slip your arms into it one at a time he pulled it close to your body to keep you warm before coming up behind you, tipping your head back so he could wring the excess water out of it, taking this as an opportunity to kiss the hollow of your throat to which you hummed. Upon slipping on his previously discarded pants and shirt, an endeavor you watched very closely, not wanting to miss a second of how his muscles shifted underneath his smooth, taut skin, he sat down next to you. “It’s a beautiful night.” “That it is.” You agreed. The two of you sat there for a moment before James carefully stood up, “Where are you going Jamie? Too tired now, m’done playing.” “I know angel, come on, not gonna play, just get more comfortable.” He soothed, taking you by the hand and walking you over to a set of fairly new monkey bars. Picking you up from the bottom of your thighs he pushed you up and above his shoulders to sit on top of the monkey bars and you were reminded why it sometimes came in handy to be dating the captain of the football team. Swinging up next to you on the monkey bars he slid his arm around your shoulders, both of your legs meeting the edge of the cold metal at the bend of your knees, your bodies there down hanging off leaving the both of you on your backs staring up at the unusually starry night sky. “There’s Orion.” You lifted your arm to point out the constellation, “ Surprised we can see so many.” You marvelled. “It is rather pretty.” “‘Rather pretty’?” You gasped exasperated with the boy next to you, “It’s not just ‘rather pretty’, it's gorgeous!” You corrected with a huff, turning your visage back up towards the heavens. “Eh,” He shrugged, “I’ve seen better.” “I swear to God, James Fleamont Potter if you say ‘You’re prettier than any constellation’ I’m going to push you off these monkey bars.” A chuckle pushed its way past his lips as he brushed his lips along the part of your hair, “You know me too well don’t you (L/N).” “Yeah, I’ve got your number Mister.” James pulled out his phone to check the time, “Hey baby, it’s midnight.” He whispered in your ear, turning his phone screen so you could read the time. “Happy Saturday my darling boy.” “Happy Saturday Princess, let’s get you home.”

Note: I know in my initial ask on @/randomoutsiders you guys went home and more fluff ensued. Maybe a part two?

tagging: @randomoutsiders​ 

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐴𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 (𝐾𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔) 𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐾𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)× 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡, 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑓𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟..... 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦'𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑡.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝐹𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑦𝑟𝑢𝑝, ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑗𝑜𝑏, 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑐𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦, 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝, 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙 (𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔), 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑑𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 (?) 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑦 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘, 𝑢𝑛𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑥 (𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛), 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑚! 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 × 𝑠𝑢𝑏! 𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑐𝑘

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.4K

𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡: @hanatiny @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @galaxteez @yunhoiseyecandy @brie02 @rvse-miingi @multidreams-and-desires @deja-vux

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Yeosang let out an excited yet nervous giggle as his lover grabbed a hold of his shirt and proceeded to drag him over to the bed, where she then had him lay down on it.

"Baby? What are you doing?" He asked as her hands began to caress him through his shirt, lifting it up enough so that his belly button could be seen.

"I saw your two most recent performances Sangie. And I gotta say.... I was more than impressed."

Her fingers nimbly undid the buttons of his shirt, opening it up to expose his hard and solid abs that she had gotten a peek at while watching his fancam. She let out a soft purr as her index finger traced each and every one of the lines across his stomach.

"Is this why you didn't want me to take off your shirt all these months that passed? Because you were hiding these?"

Yeosang hummed lowly as he felt her ran her hands all over his chest, thumbs lightly tweaking at his nipples which had him barely shuddering. He was already getting aroused as he pondered over what was going to come. He knew he was definitely in for something wild since she was wearing his favorite red lacy lingerie set that she only reserved for very special occasions. He always felt his breath being taken away whenever she surprised him by wearing such a scandalous choice of attire.

"I wanted it to be a surprise. I worked extra hard to get in shape to look good." He admitted, a light pink tint forming on his cheeks.

Y/N smiled sweetly at him, her fingers brushing against the tent that was building up inside his pants.

"Oh really? Look good for who exactly? For atiny?"

Yeosang mumbled out a needy whine once she pressed down on his bulge, nails digging into the fabric of his pants and raking slowly at the outline of his length.

"Y-yes b-but mostly for..." He bit down at his lip, feeling shy and embarrassing about finishing that sentence.

Y/N gave out a little click of her tongue before beginning to unzip him. Yeosang lifted his hips to help make it easier for her to get his pants off him. Running her hands over his thick thighs, Y/N hovered her mouth over his clothed dick, staring up at him intently.

"Mostly for whom exactly?"

Opening her mouth, she moaned around Yeosang's tent as she wrapped her lips around his balls, using her teeth to slightly press down on them. Yeosang gasped out an 'oh!' when he felt her hot breath so near him.

"For m-mommy. I wanted to look good for you mommy." He confessed, lifting himself up on his elbows to watch more closely what'd she do next.

Giggling darkly at him, Y/N climbed on top of him, her ass pressing itself down on his dick while her hands cupped his shoulders, caressing his soft and smooth skin. Yeosang closed his eyes as her hand came up his neck to cup his jaw. As if it was instinct, he parted his lips when her thumb grazed across his lower lip, taking it in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

"My pretty prince wanted to look good for me? How cute."

When her index and middle finger came up, Yeosang didn't hesitate to take them into his mouth as well, generously giving them light suckles and not complaining when inch by inch, they went further into his mouth, nearly making him gag when they went all the way inside.

"You're already looking so good for me Sangie. You're so beautiful, so handsome. You really didn't have to go through all this just for me."

Yeosang let out a disappointed whimper when she retracted her hands, a thin line of saliva breaking apart when she pulled away too far. His bottom lip poked out like a child being refused their favorite candy. Y/N began cooing at him, her fingers smearing some of his leftover spit onto his chin.

"What's wrong my baby boy?"

Making his eyes go as big as they could, Yeosang huffed softly as he began rutting his dick on her ass cheeks.

"I wanna taste mommy. I've been craving her pussy for some time."

Awing at him, Y/N guided him to lay his head back on the pillow. Yeosang eagerly watched in anticipation as she peeled the lace fabric down her legs, holding it up against his face in a teasing motion. He inhaled deeply when he felt the wet patch hit against his nose, the scent already making his head spin. Throwing her panties onto the dresser next to the bed, followed soon after by her matching bra, Y/N placed herself on top of Yeosang's face, her thighs resting on each sides of his cheeks. Yeosang stared unashamedly at her wet folds, tongue poking out in expectation of getting to eat out his favorite sweet. Slowly, Y/N sank herself onto his pretty face, moaning loudly when his mouth latched onto her heat, making no movement until she told him to, just as she had trained him to.

"Ok babyboy. Do your thing."

Yeosang's tongue dipped inside her hole, a light trickle of her arousal falling into his mouth which he savoured gratefully before swallowing it. He took his time as he began to nip all along her slit, sometimes laying his tongue flat against it before licking all the way up to her clit. Yeosang closed his eyes and just fully submerged himself into succulent taste of her core, drinking up her liquids as if it were the most delectable nectar he had ever had the pleasure to feast upon. Yeosang let out a smile of content when he felt his lover's hips start to grind against his face, mewls and blissful sighs gracing his ears, a sign the receiver was enjoying the oral ministrations being bestowed upon her intimate parts.

"You're doing such a good job at eating me out my darling. You're such a good boy for mommy."

Yeosang moaned out in appreciation at hearing being complimented so lovingly. Although he was always shy at being spoiled by kind words being spoken to and about him, he couldn't deny it made his pride puff up a little when his beautiful girlfriend indulged him by calling him her good little boy or baby boy. His hands gripped onto the back of her thighs and pulled her further into his face, not minding whatsoever having half of his oxygen being cut off as long as her honey like pussy was smothering him whole. The veins on his hands and arms began to become more visible the harder he gripped at her skin, forcing her to grind harder against him so his tongue could lap up more of her secretions. Y/N reached out to grip onto the headboard in front of her, loud gasps pouring out as she had never had Yeosang practically use her to face fuck himself like that, usually she'd be the one taking the initiative. But it seemed at that moment she was simply just his little toy, or candy bar, for him to enjoy as he wanted.

"Oh! Oh-fuck Yeosang! That feels so good! You're going to make mommy cum that way."

Yeosang's dick twitched inside his boxers at the thought of having her cum pour down his throat, his mouth sucking with ferocity at her clit as he continued his assault on her core, muffled grunts barely audible as he worked his tongue to bring her into a state of ecstasy.

"Shit! Sangie!"

Her thighs clenched around his skull, squeezing his face hard as her juices rushed out of her core and smeared all over his face. Yeosang happily gulped down as much as he could, moaning against her folds to help further heighten the sensation of her high. When Y/N pulled away from his face, Yeosang panted softly for air, the sides of his cheeks and nose glistening from the remnants of her cum. Looking up at her, he began to snicker rather cutely.

"I look the prettiest after mommy made me a mess." He wiped some of the cum out of the corners of his lips with his tongue, smirking up at her.

Bending down, Y/N proceeded to lick some of her cum off his face, dragging her tongue all the way into his mouth where she then let him closed her lips over his, enveloping them in a sweet and most sincerest kiss. Yeosang completely melted under her when her fingers ran themselves through his soft and wavy black locks. He let her take absolute control of the kiss, letting her tongue dance around his, fully enraptured by each movement of her wet muscle. He was so lost into the kiss, he was not prepared to have her pull away just as he began craving more. Turning a bit selfish, one of his hands went to the back of her head, rushing to pull her back in, but Y/N was just as fast. Pressing a finger to his lips, she tsked at his behavior.

"Sangie you were doing so good for me so far, don't start acting out just yet ok?"

The way the corners of his lips curled up into a sly smile, Y/N knew he was contemplating disobeying her orders. Although in any other circumstances she would have hoped for him to disobey just to have him ass up, face hidden in the pillows and hands tied behind his back, she was in a different mood that evening. A mood that required her precious baby to be on his best behavior so she could pamper him as she wanted to.

"Don't Yeosang. I had something prepared for you tonight and you won't get to find out about it if you choose to be bad."

The way his eyes lit up at her comment had her holding back from pinching his cheeks or booping his nose.

"What is it?" He asked, full of curiosity and eager to know.

Pressing a small peck on his lips, she got off the bed and went over to one of her dressers, opening it up and taking out something that Yeosang couldn't quite see since she had put them behind her back. Standing at the foot of the bed, she then held her hands out to show Yeosang what she had in them:

A can of whipped cream and a bottle of chocolate drizzle.

"What-what are they for?" Although he had a hunch of what they were for, he still wanted to hear her plan.

"Well Yeosangie, you had your dessert tonight..."

She paused so that she could climb on top of him again, settling herself on top of his thighs.

"Now it's my turn."

Popping the cap off the bottle, she turned it upside down and let a few drops fall onto Yeosang's chest. His muscles flinched slightly when they felt the substance splatter all over them. Placing the bottle to the side, Y/N leaned down, tongue stuck out and eyes locked on the pair of dark orbs looking at her with anticipation of what she would do next. Sending him a playful wink, she began to lick off the chocolate syrup on his skin. Yeosang fought back a fit of giggles threatening to escape his mouth, hands gripping the blanket underneath in an effort to keep himself from squirming.

"You ok baby boy?" Y/N asked as she chuckled softly.

"Yeah just- it tickles a little. But it feels good." He urged her to keep going.

Taking the bottle again, Y/N drizzled his firm and toned abs generously, coating them and even making random shapes on it. Feeling satisfied, she dove back in and began slurping up the sweetened syrup off his luscious abs, feeling proud when her ears became blessed at hearing Yeosang's hushed out moans. She could feel him tense up under her touch as he tried, but ultimately failed in not rutting his clothed erection against her ass. Wanting to tease him just a bit, she rolled her hips against him, the leftover slick from her last orgasm and the new slick building up starting to make a wet patch against his boxers.

Yeosang couldn't stop biting and licking at his lips as he stared at Y/N's tongue cleaning up the mess she made on his body. He was thoroughly enjoying being eaten up by her warm, hot mouth. And he was elated to know his efforts paid off, that she enjoyed the sight of seeing his new fit body. After all, he had worked out just for her, to hear her praise him and tell him how pretty and gorgeous he was. He absolutely adored having her tell him such things. As if reading his mind, Y/N began to moan in ecstasy along his abs.

"You were already so breathtaking babyboy, but now-" She sucked in a breath before sinking her teeth into the patch of skin just above the waistband of his boxers.

"You're so fucking sexy. It kinda makes me be selfish and not let anyone else see your beauty."

Scoffing softly, she placed more open mouth kisses along the area of his belly button.

"Not like they can appreciate it like I can."

Letting out an indignant huff, she popped open the bottle again and crept her face close to Yeosang's.

"Open up that pretty mouth of yours babyboy."

Obedient to her, Yeosang opened his mouth. Placing some of the chocolate syrup on her tongue, she carefully brought it over towards Yeosang's lips. Getting the hint, he took her tongue inside his mouth, sucking off the delicious treat and letting it run down his throat. When he was done, Y/N licked off the tiny droplets that had accidentally fallen on his chin and cheek.

"How was that my Sangie?" She asked as her nose nuzzled against his.

"Sweet, delicious. But nothing compares to mommy's pussy." He had a cheeky grin on his features as he answered her.

Trying to hide the blush threatening to form on her cheeks, Y/N got off him.

"I think there's something even better than that."

Locking eyes at him, she wrapped her fingers on the waistband of his briefs before slipping them off him, his cock finally making an appearance. It stood firmly erect, tip leaking and red, crying out to be touched and played with in any form its owner deemed fit. No matter how many times she sucked, jerked or fucked it, Y/N could never stop becoming surprised with Yeosang's size. He was well beyond average and had a more than nice girth to him. Even if she wrapped both of her hands along it starting from the base, they weren't enough to cover all the way up to the head. And she loved it, loved her boyfriends monster cock. It was the one part of him no one could ever see and that she would never share. His dick belonged to her and was solely hers, even Yeosang said it himself many times.

Brushing her fingers against it, she picked it up and began running her thumb against the slit.

"You're so big babyboy. My good little boy isn't so little."

Yeosang began bucking his hips further into her hand. There was nothing he loved more than seeing her hand around his dick, loved having her jerk him off so much. Although he would definitely never turn down the opportunity to fuck her mouth, he just preferred having her give him one of those handjobs that drove him wild. Nothing compared to it.......

Except of course, having both hands wrapped around him.

"You like my big, fat cock so much mommy?" Yeosang smirked up at her.

"I fucking love it. Love how big my babyboy is."

Yeosang let out a half pained whine when she squeezed a little too hard around him, his body threatening to be pushed into an early orgasm by that action alone.

"Oh-fuck! Please keep doing that." Yeosang muttered out.

Y/N hummed softly, hand still pumping him slowly. With a taunting look, she let go of his dick, letting it fall hard against his stomach. Yeosang began writhing around, emitting low whimpers and immediately reaching over to grab Y/N's hand so he could place her hand back where he needed her the most. She however slapped his hand away.

"Naughty naughty boy. Where did your manners go?" She chastised him.

Poking out his bottom lip, Yeosang stroked himself with two of his fingers.

"I'm sorry mommy. But it-it hurts. I want to cum." He fretted as his hand cupped his balls, fondling them amply.

His self pleasure was interrupted as Y/N pushed his hand away.

"I don't remember giving you permission to touch yourself babyboy. Remember what I told you. It might be your cock, but it still belongs to me. Not even you can touch it without asking me first."

Yeosang immediately nodded, not wanting to get his love angry and further deny him his so desperately craved orgasm.

"Y-yes mommy. I'm sorry. I was being selfish." He admitted his fault, praying it would help in her taking pity on him and letting him off the hook.

It worked as Y/N's former scowl was replaced by an doting look on her boyfriend. Patting his thigh twice, she was satisfied to see him obey her and spread his legs out for her so she could place herself in between them.

"Besides my precious baby, I'm not done eating my dessert. I'm just getting to the best part."

The long forgotten whipped cream can was now in her hand, being shaken up and prepared to be used. Positioning the nozzle against the thick mushroom head of his dick, Y/N squirted some of the cream and coated the tip. Yeosang had his hands rested flat against the mattress to keep him steady and from moving so as to not spill anything off him. When Y/N wrapped her lips around his tip, he let his head fall back onto the pillow. His eyes shut tight and teeth clenches tight as she sucked off the creamy confection of him.

"Mmmm. You taste so good babyboy."

This time Y/N coated along his balls, making two medium sized puffs on each of them. Just as she did the tip, she closed her lips over them and ate it off him, some of the whipped cream staining the tip of her nose. Even after she had cleaned him of the cream, she held one of his balls inside her mouth, tongue swirling around the underside of it while simultaneously sucking onto it. The more she applied pressure with her mouth, the more Yeosang squirmed under her, spewing out heavy breaths and low hissing noises. Letting go of his ball with a loud 'pop', she lastly drew a long strip of whipped cream all across his shaft.

"If only we could taste yourself Sangie."

As if the scene couldn't get more dirty, Y/N surprised him when she suddenly took hold of his cock with both of her hands. Yeosang widened his eyes as he watched her pump his dick, smearing the whipped cream all over him, which served as a makeshift lube so her hands slid more easily along him.

"Oh fuck- I'm not gonna-"

Yeosang couldn't even say anymore as he became a stuttering mess, thighs shaking as he felt his high fast approaching. Seeing his favorite image of Y/N's hands jerking him off, topped off with all the cream that covered most of his dick, was sending him spiraling like lighting. Wanting to make an even bigger mess of him, Y/N pressed her bare chest against his tip.

"Cum all over my tits babyboy. Make a mess all over me so I can clean it up."

Back arching and toes curling, Yeosang began spilling his thick load all over her breasts, some of it also trickling down his cream covered cock and tiny dots falling on his inner thighs. His hips furiously rutted themselves up against her hand, fucking himself even harder in an effort to ride out his high, almost as if he was in heat and not in control and his movements.

"Fuck!" He cursed out when his body finally stilled against the bed.

His upper body was just a mess as his lower half. His eyes were shot wide open, his mouth agape as he took slow and intense breaths to calm down his heartbeat, sweat was already dripping down the sides of his neck, and his chest was moving up and down due to his labored breathing. Taking a peek at how bad it was underneath him, he reddened as he caught Y/N's lustful gaze.

"My my, look what a mess you made you dirty little boy."

Taking her hands off his softening dick, Y/N ran them all over her chest, effectively covering her tits with the mixture of cream and cum that was left on them, and then running them down to her stomach. Whatever was left over, she licked it off her hands, wiping them clean before she stooped her face down once more and began cleaning up the mess all over Yeosang's lower body. Starting at his thighs, then going up to his abs, then finally ending when she began licking up all the cum and whipped cream off his dick, which was slowly but surely starting to get hard once again, returning to its full and thick size.

"Oh. Someone is excited again."

Yeosang laughed slightly.

"Can't help it. Mommy just riles me up so much." Even Yeosang found it amusing and interesting how he could become so horny so fast by even the simplest of things Y/N did to him.

"Oh is that so? Maybe I should fix the problems I caused."

Wiggling her eyebrows at him, she lined herself up on his cock, gliding the tip along her slit and even slapping it against her throbbing clit. She didn't mean to sink herself so roughly down onto him, but her pussy was aching to be filled up, and Yeosang filled her up more than nicely, his girth tearing her folds open and stretching her out so wide. She could feel every vein and ridge against her walls and it was the most delightful burn she could feel. Eyes peering down at Yeosang, she gave him a sadistic grin, not giving him time to prepare as she began bouncing herself on him. His hands came up to hold onto her hips, fingers digging so hard into her skin they would leave tiny purple prints on them for sure.

"Please mommy! T-too much!" Yeosang began crying out, his eyes becoming glassy with tears.

"Come on babyboy. You know you can take it. You're a good boy who can take me fucking myself on your cock."

Her hands rested themselves on the bed to hold her in place as she grinded her hips down onto him, his balls getting semi squished under her ass. Yeosang began to whimper rather pathetically under her body, another orgasm beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. Y/N watched his struggle with amusement.

"See babyboy? This is why your cock belongs to me and I decide what can be done with it. You have a huge cock yet don't know how to use it, I always have to fuck it for both of us, you wouldn't know what to do to get yourself off."

Yeosang scrunched his eyes, tears rolling down his temples as his body trembled violently under her.

"Y-yes mommy! I don't know-" He let out a choked moan.

"I know something you can and know how to do well Sangie."

Slowing down her pace just enough to be able to make him sit up, Y/N grabbed the back of his hair and pulled it harshly, making sure he looked into her eyes.

"Clean me up Sangie, I know you're dying to taste me."

Yeosang didn't need to be told twice as he buried his face into her chest and began nipping off the leftover cream and cum off her breasts, lewd and sloppy slurping noises being exuded out of him. He gave each of her nipples a generous suck, even biting down on them enough to leave tiny teeth marks embedded on them. Yeosang's mouth latched onto her tits while she rocked herself back and forth on his massive cock had Y/N scratching along his back.

"Oh fuck! Yeosangie I'm going to cum! Your cock is going to make me cum!" She cried out.

Taking ahold of her hips, Yeosang helped her continue to bounce on his cock as they both came at the same time, their juices mixing with one another. Drawled out moans and jabbered cusses filled the room, along with the squealching sounds of their sticky and sweaty bodies being connected. As they were coming down from their intense high, Yeosang wrapped his arms around her, holding her so close he could nearly take the breath out of her. He pressed his face against her neck, nuzzling his neck in it as he began rambling something incoherent. Kissing his birthmark, Y/N began stroking the patch of hair which she had previously yanked on.

"You ok babyboy?"

Yeosang could only groan out a response as he buried his face deeper in her neck, lips dragging themselves along the side of it, inhaling her after sex scent that he was drawn towards.

"I'm going to go run us a bath."

As soon as he felt her pulling away, Yeosang used his strength to tighten his grip around her, making her fall back onto him as he dropped down on the bed as he refused to let her go or let her pull out of him, which actually had her laughing.

"You clingy baby, how am I supposed to get us cleaned up if you refuse to let me get up?"

Shaking his head, Yeosang began to slightly purr.

"What's the point if we're going to make a mess once more?" He questioned.

"Make a mess once more? And who says we are?"

Y/N squealed when Yeosang flipped them over and placed her legs over his shoulders. Wrapping his arms around her legs and making a point to flex his biceps, Yeosang placed a kiss on one of them before smirking down at her.

"Who says we aren't?"

[reidgraygubler]

5 Times Aaron Hotchner Cares For You +1 Time You Care For Him

Title: 5 Times Hotchner Cares For You +1 Time You Care For Him

Request: kinda, not really

Couple: Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Category: Angst w/ the littlest bit of fluff

Content Warning: swearing (if any), several instances of injuries, assault, car accident, being sick (nothing serious, just a bad cold), gun violence (but no one actually getting shot), talks of near death experiences, canon consistent injuries (hotch's injuries from foyet), season 9 ep 5 spoilers/mentions, vague mentions of something bad happening to kids

Word Count: 5,601

Summary: the five times aaron hotchner takes care of you when you’re injured, plus the one time you take care of him when he’s injured.

A/N: this was writing for pom’s discord server fic swap! I was paired with the wonderful @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff! I took a few of his favorite tropes and prompts he likes and came up with this! The first two instances there’s no relationship, but by the end it’s sort of an implied relationship. Also, I binged dharma and greg while writing this… So Hotch definitely has more of a domestic vibe in a few of the instances. thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

One

It was a regular day. You stayed behind to help Aaron and Jennifer work over some cases. The extra pair of eyes would be nice, and maybe they’d be able to get home sooner rather than later. You knew it’d be a late-night no matter what. So you decided to work through your files quickly.

Although, you wished you’d slow it down a bit. You wished you slowed down after you moved a paper just the right way across your finger. A hiss came from your lips as you dropped the paper and file to the table.

“You alright?” Jennifer looked over at you as you stood up. Looking down at your fingers, liquid red came seeping from your finger. Your nose wrinkled as you looked at the injury. It took you a minute to realize what happened as you started at the minor injury across your finger.

“Papercut,” you winced as you looked between Jennifer and the cut on your finger. You brought your finger to your lips, sucking on the wound like a child would have done.

“I have bandaids in my office,” Aaron spoke, looking up from his file and right at you. You looked over at him, your finger still in your mouth. You felt a little weird staring at your boss and superior with your finger in your mouth. “Here, I’ll go get you one,” he looked up at you as he stood. You stared at him, watching him leave the conference room.

“I should go with him, right?” You asked, looking back at JJ. She looked up from her file and right at you.

“He offered you bandaids quicker than I could,” JJ laughed as she lowered her file to the table. You raised an eyebrow at her. “I’d go with him,” a smile grew on JJ’s lips as she looked back at her file.

“Right, I should,” you mumbled as you rushed to your feet. JJ grinned, watching as you rushed out of the room. You were quick as you rushed down the platform, going right to Aaron’s office.

“Unfortunately, I only have Batman bandaids. Is that alright?” Aaron looked up at you, holding a bandaid with Batman and Robin on it. You looked at him, feeling a small smile grow on your lips before nodding.

“Batman will work just fine,” you laughed as you met Aaron in the middle of his office.

“I don’t have anything to clean it with either. So you’ll just have to go to the bathroom. Next time I’ll be better prepared.” Aaron laughed as you took the band-aid from him and looked down at it. “Jack’s the one who picked the theme of the band-aids… Insisted that superheroes help heal all owies.” Aaron laughed again as he watched you examine the theme.

“Oh, no, really. Batman is perfectly fine," You spoke as you peeled the band-aid open and put it over your cut. “And, who said there would be a next time…?”

Two

You sat at the table, sweat pouring off you, while you somehow shivered like a leaf in the wind. You were simultaneously hot and cold, and you couldn’t stop your nose from running like a character in a Tom Hanks movie. You didn’t even realize Aaron was talking to you, everything he said to you went in one ear and out the other.

“Are you even listening to me?” Aaron stopped talking about the case and looked right at you. You looked up from the table and at him.

“Yeah, yeah you said something about…” Your words trailed off, just like any other thought you had at that moment.

“That’s not even close to what I said,” Aaron spoke as he stared at you. He placed the file he was holding on the table and stepped up to you. “Are you feeling fine?”

“I feel great, Aaron. Really. Let’s just get back to work so we can go home,” you rambled as you tried to hold down a cough. Aaron looked down at you as he placed the back of his hand on your forehead. To anyone on the outside, our relationship was strictly professional. But behind closed doors, you both had a pretty simple and normal relationship. It would have seemed weird only to the people in a work environment. But you were used to it and love that side of him.

“Nope, you’re going to the hotel. You’re burning up.” Aaron folded his arms over his chest as he stared at you.

“But I feel fine.” “You’re burning up.”

“But-”

“You’re going back to the hotel,” he spoke sternly, "Don’t even think about calling Garcia to spy on the case. Go back to the hotel, and get some rest.” Aaron looked down at you. You stared up at him, trying to hold back the sneeze or hold down the cough that was making you suffocate.

“I feel… I feel…” Unfortunately, you were cut off by a sneeze, then a cough, and then another sneeze, “Fine!” You tried not to shout, but at that point, you had never felt so… defeated. So you finally let your shoulders fall as you looked up at Aaron. “I’ll go back to the hotel,” you grumbled before grabbing your things.

“Call me if you need anything, please.” Aaron stared at you as you struggled to put your jacket on. He was quiet as he walked over to help you, grabbing a sleeve to your jacket and slipping it on you. You looked up at him with dewy eyes.

“Be safe out there, please,” you quietly pleaded. Aaron pressed his lips to your forehead, which he would regret because of how sweaty you were. You were happy it was just you and Aaron in the precinct, as all the other members of the team were at separate locations.

“Let me know when you get to the hotel.” Aaron walked beside you out to the parking lot. You looked up at him and nodded. “Get all the rest in the world, and drink plenty of fluids.” He looked down at you as he pulled the door open for you.

“Okay, Doctor Reid,” you scoffed and glared at him as you slipped into the car. Aaron returned the glare before pushing the door to the car shut.

The drive to the hotel was quiet, and thankfully pretty quick. You weren’t sure if you were happy to sit this case out. Sure it was nice to have a break from the stress. But you did enjoy being with the team and actually working.

When you finally got to the hotel, you were quick to change from your business-work attire and into your pajamas. You clicked the TV on and laid in bed. You weren’t sure when you drifted off, but you awoke to the door of your room clicking shut, and in a puddle of your own sweat.

“It’s just me,” Aaron spoke into the darkroom. You reached over and blindly turned the lamp on. Aaron was standing at the foot of the bed holding two paper bags in hand. “Sorry to wake you,” he whispered as he cringed. You assumed you looked like a mess as you sat up. You felt like one at least.

“It’s fine. It wasn’t restful anyway,” you sighed as you rubbed your face. It was an obvious lie too. You hadn’t slept that hard since before you started at the BAU. Aaron knew for a fact that you were sleeping pretty hard. The line of drool coming from your mouth, the exhausted look in your eyes, and the indentations in your skin from where the blankets were indicated just how hard you were sleeping.

“How are you feeling?” Aaron asked as he placed the bags on the table. You watched as he pulled out a bottle of orange juice, a box of popsicles, and a bowl of soup.

“Like I ran headfirst into a brick wall then hit by a semi-truck.” You spoke truthfully. Aaron raised an eyebrow as he walked over to you with the soup in one hand and the orange juice in another. “It’s probably a good thing I didn’t stay at the station with you.”

“Well there was a reason why I sent you back here,” Aaron laughed as he placed the two items on the nightstand beside you. “I also got you NyQuil and Ibuprofen. And, I can get you ice from the machine down the hall,” he continued as he sat beside you on the bed.

“You’re the best,” you whispered as you picked up the soup. “How’s the case going?”

“It’s going. There’s been another victim,” Aaron honestly answered. You frowned as you looked away from the soup and up at him.

“I wish there was something I could do to help.” And it was true. But there was a little bit of a lie in your words. You’d much rather stay in the hotel room wrapped up in blankets watching movies on your phone.

“You’re helping by staying here and getting rest. We don’t want Reid overreacting to you being with the rest of us,” Aaron laughed as he looked at you. You laughed and nodded.

“You’re right, you’re right,” you sighed and sat back in the bed, “You should get rest too. You’ll have an early morning….”

“Now… I’m the one who’s taking care of you,” Aaron scolded. You stared at him before blinking slowly. “I’m at least going to shower first. You better be asleep by the time I get out.”

“Can do, Sir… But only if you give me that bottle of NyQuil first.”

Three

“Get down!” You shouted as you looked at the victim. The little girl looked over at you with terror in her eyes. You looked at the little girl, then up at the unsub. “Let the girl go, and maybe we can talk about a deal,” You spoke softly as you lowered your gun. Your partner in crime and in life, Aaron, appeared by your side, his weapon still in hand.

“Get out of here,” the unsub muttered as he shoved the little girl towards you and Aaron. The little girl went right to Aaron’s arms, causing you to look over at him.

“Take her, I got this,” You whispered as you nodded to the girl. Aaron wanted to argue, but he knew it was useless. Aaron glanced at you one last time before lifting the girl up and leaving.

“Look, I’m putting my weapon away,” You looked back at the unsub as you holstered your gun. The unsub looked at you for a moment before tricking you. The way the unsub moved made you think he was going one way, when in reality he went the other.

Before you knew it, the unsub threw a fist at your face before shoving you up against the wall. If you weren’t sitting on the ground, you would have chased after him. But you were too busy recollecting yourself to bother. It was a shock and everything happened so quickly. So it was a relief when you heard Aaron’s booming voice renter the room.

“Stay down!” Aaron yelled as he looked down at the unsub. You sat against the wall, your hand over your eye where the unsub punched you. Aaron was quick as he put cuffs on the already down unsub. The way Aaron glanced over at you worried you a little bit. You could tell there was a tiny bit of worry in his eye. You two would have to wait till other members of the team showed up before anything would happen.

“I’m fine, Aaron,” you mumbled as you stumbled to your feet. Aaron glanced down at the unsub before going to you to help you to your feet. “I said I was fine,” you whisper once you were standing behind him.

“You go outside, and get yourself some help. I’ll be right behind you with him,” Aaron’s grip on your arm was tight as you stood. You glanced at Aaron with a raised brow.

“I’m fine, Aaron,”

“Just listen to me,” Aaron insisted as he guided you towards the door. You looked at Aaron and the unsub one last time before going outside.

The rest of the team was by your side, bringing you to an ambulance.

“Where’s Hotch,” Emily asked as one of the EMTs helped you. You graciously took the ice pack from the EMT and held it to your face.

“He said he’d be right behind me. Is the little girl okay?” You asked as you worried more about the little girl, rather than yourself. Emily gestured over to where the little girl was reunited with her family. A wave of relief washed over you once you saw the family back together.

Aaron was quick to your side when he was outside. You didn’t want to question why he took so long inside with the unsub. You were just happy he was back beside you.

“Bastard packed quite the punch,” you nervously chuckled as you looked to the ground. Aaron leaned against the ambulance rig before looking over at you.

“Next time I’m staying with the unsub,” Aaron muttered as he rested a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him as you dropped your hand and ice pack from your face.

“You know, Aaron,” you started but let your words trail off with a chuckle.

“Are you going to finish that thought?” Aaron asked as he raised an eyebrow at you. You laughed again and shook your head.

“It’s no big deal that I got punched by an unsub. It wasn’t the first, and it most certainly won’t be the last time it’s happened,” You spoke softly as you tried to reassure your partner. Aaron breathed out a laugh and nodded.

Four

The unsub was cornered. Stuck between you, Aaron, and a brick wall with no way over it. You and the team had profiled everything about this guy perfectly. Or so you and Aaron had thought. You hoped there was an easy way for this to end. But you ended up being wrong when he raised his weapon in your direction. Aaron was doing everything he could to talk the unsub of the edge, to get him to lower his weapon. But it all ended up being for nothing.

For a brief moment, you weren’t entirely sure what had happened. All you knew was there was a loud bang, followed by a second bang, followed by you fell back to the ground. The wind was knocked right from your lungs, and breathing seemed to be a chore instead of a freewill thing. A sudden pain was in your chest, and sitting up was the furthest thing from your mind.

“Are you alright?” Aaron looked down at you with wide eyes.

“Am I dead?” You asked once you were able to take a deep breath. It was still a struggle for you. Aaron offered you a hand to help you sit up. You looked up at him before looking down at the bulletproof, kevlar vest. A bullet was lodged in the vest, saving your life.

“No, you aren’t.” Aaron helped you take the vest off. You sat back against the wall, the pain in your chest only growing.

“Are you sure?” You asked again, looking at Aaron with a small, but nervous, smile. Aaron returned the look with a raised brow, silently telling you now was no time for joking.

“You’ll have a bruise on your chest, but you should be fine. I would still get it checked out, just in case.” He added before helping you to your feet.

“Is he dead?” You looked down at the ground, your eyes instantly going to the cold body of your unsub. Aaron looked over at you with a crease in his brow and a solemn look in his eye.

“I couldn’t take any chances that he’d try to kill you. He’d already shot at you once.” Aaron explained once you had realized he’d killed the unsub. You understood why he did it, though. And frankly, you’d do the same if your places were swapped, you thought.

“Are the rest of the team and the police on their way?” You asked, already assuming the answer.

“Called them when you were down. Should be here at any minute.”

Five

“Are you alright?” Aaron asked as he looked over at you. The expression that he wore on his face was… exhausted and sad. You were sure you had the same expression, more on the sadder side. This last case was… a rough one to say the least. You tried not to think about the details of it, but all you could think about was Jack, and your nieces and nephews, and their safety. But it was hard when that was the only thing that occupied your mind on the ride home.

“No,” You muttered as you looked over at him. It was hard for you to hide the tears in your eyes. “I just wish there was more we could do,” You sighed deeply before bringing a hand to your face.

“We did everything we could do. You know that,” Aaron whispered as he looked over at you. You glanced at him, noting that he was still looking at you. “It’s always hard to know how things like this play out.” He added as he reached out to hold your hand. The grip he had on your hand was firm, tight enough to let you know he was there.

“No, no I know… It just… Sucks… I couldn’t even imagine being in the position as those parents.” You shivered with your words. Aaron glanced at you. You wiped your cheeks and shook your head. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m still even in this occupation. You ever wonder that?” You asked as you looked up at him. Aaron’s jaw steeled as he kept his eyes on the road. “Because, like… To me… I don’t know… With all the shit we see… Sometimes I’d rather just stay home with Jack,” You concluded with another sigh. That time Aaron looked over at you with a certain sadness in his eyes.

“I understand.” Aaron nodded. You weren’t sure about his tone. Though there was some honesty, at the same time you picked some uncertainty. You knew how long he’d been in the BAU, and you knew it’d be an even longer time before he left. He’s seen some shit. And, well, been through a lot of it as well. He’d fallen victim to a number of unsubs and lost more than one thing.

“You’re bad at this.” You stared at him as you pressed your head into the headrest. Aaron had a sad smile grow across his lips before glancing at you.

“I’m just a sounding board.”

“But… But you’re also my boss… And my partner… You should be more than a sounding board, Aaron.” You pointed out as you sat up a bit. “I might take some time off. This case really… It’s really affecting me in a bad way.”

“I’m sure Jack would love that. And Jessica,” Aaron laughed sadly as he glanced at you. “I’m always here for you. You know that. And if you feel like you have to take some time off, then I’ll be by your side then too.” He glanced over at you. You swallowed roughly before nodding.

“I’ll have to tell my boss when we get back to the office,” you laughed lightly. Aaron returned the laughter and shook his head.

“Don’t worry. He already knows.”

Plus One

When Aaron had gotten home from the hospital, you made it a point to take as much time as needed off so you could help him. Part of you thought everyone just assumed you were the one to go to Aaron’s apartment to help him. Of course, it was a fair assumption.

It was a rough scene when you arrived at Aaron’s apartment. It was a mess, but you partly expected that. It was more of a cluttered mess, with Jack’s toys and Aaron’s files strewn around the place. Maybe you’d help the pair out by cleaning up a little bit for them, too.

Jack was with his Aunt Jessica for the time being. He didn’t need to be exposed to the injuries and pain his father was going through. It wasn’t fair to the young boy. Jack had already gone through so much… What, with losing his mother, and nearly losing his father?

You quietly brought your go bag and backpack up the stairs and towards Aaron’s room. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve spent the night at his house, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Although this time was different.

“What are you doing here?” Aaron asked as you entered his bedroom. You looked down at him with confusion and mild anger on your face.

“You… You had no one to take care of you,” You whispered as you looked at him. Aaron’s features softened slightly, but you could still see his own confusion and annoyance on his face. “What? With Jessica taking care of Jack, and the team off doing… team-y things… I figured I’d help,” you shrugged as you dropped your bags to the foot of Aaron’s bed.

“I don’t need anyone taking care of me. I can do it myself,” Aaron stubbornly refused your offer. Although it wasn’t an offer. You were determined to help him whether he wanted it or not.

“Don’t be silly, Aaron,” You crossed your arms over your chest as you stared at Aaron, “I’ll take care of you." You looked down at Aaron as he readjusted his position. You grimaced as Aaron winced from pain. You were quick to his side, trying to help. But it was clear Aaron didn’t want it. You’d be lying if you said his refusal hurt your heart.

“It’s rotten work,” Aaron said once he was finally in a comfortable position. You looked down at him, feeling your face fall slightly from a sudden sadness.

“Not to me… Not if it’s you,” You whispered softly before taking Aaron’s hand into yours. Aaron looked up at you, a certain pain in his eyes. You didn’t question it as you looked at him. “Please, Aaron… Let me help you… The team doesn’t need me right now. But you do,” You kept your voice low as you worried it’d crack.

Aaron looked back up at you, watching as tears fell from your eyes.

“I won’t be easy on you,” Aaron looked at you as he spoke. You smiled softly before nodding.

“That’s okay. I’ll help you. That’s why I’m here,” You nodded before you brought his hand to your lips. Your lips rested right on the back of Aaron’s hand as you stared at him. “Think of it as payback for all those times you’ve helped me. It’s only fair.”

{***}{***}{***}

Of course, you went into this thinking it’d be easy. You thought that Aaron would help you help him. The first day was easy. But the following days were rougher. You weren’t expecting Aaron to argue with you. It was a fight to try and convince him he needed help.

Like today, Aaron had to go to the bathroom. And when you went to help him, he fought. You loved him, that was why you were helping him. But he was beginning to test your limits.

“Please stop fighting me on this, Aaron. I know you know what’s best for you, and you know yourself better than I know you… But you have to take your medicine and get rest,” your voice wavered as you looked down at the man. Aaron looked up at you, a scowl on his face and a stone-cold glare in his eyes.

“I don’t need or want your help,” Aaron hissed as he pulled his arm from you. You stared at him, watching him wince as he adjusted the blanket over his legs.

“If that was the case then you would’ve pissed the bed,” you scoffed as you stared at him as you folded your arms across your chest. Aaron looked up at you, the hardness on his face softening a little bit. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me. But you made it very clear that you don’t.” You returned the glare before leaving his bedroom.

You quietly left the room, resigning to the living room where you had bedding set up on the couch. All of the belongings you had brought over were strewn across the coffee table. Various case files sat open, highlighters and pens sitting on them. They were files you were helping Aaron with so he wouldn’t fall behind workwise.

With a deep sigh, you sat on the couch, pulling a blanket around your body before you picked up a file. You worked in silence, but you were on high alert waiting for a call of help. But Aaron was stubborn, you knew there’d be no call.

You wished you could just help Aaron without the fight. It was exhausting for both you and Aaron. The days the team had off, a few of them would visit and help out with what they could. But Aaron still refused anyone’s help. You could tell that it was even frustrating for the team. And they could tell it was frustrating for you when you faked a smile as you exited Aaron’s room. You had nothing better to do than refuse their help when they offered.

You couldn’t help but let out deep, frustrated sighs as you continued to read over files. Some things didn’t make much sense, so when you needed help in that area, you would give a call to Emily or Penelope for the help. Thankfully they were able to quickly lend a hand.

Time was quick as it ticked by. You weren’t even sure what time you had started, but you knew it was late. Sleep would never find its way to you though. No you were too busy staying away, waiting for Aaron’s calls of help.

“You’re still working?” Aaron asked from behind you. That was when you finally looked up at the clock and saw that it was 3:30 in the morning. It was probably a good thing that Aaron came out at the time he did. You needed a long break, and some sleep.

You looked away from the file and over at Aaron. He stood a few feet away from the couch, his robe hanging off his frame as he stood. That reminded you that you really needed to change out of your day clothes and into your pajamas.

“Well when you’re the one who constantly works and you’re out sick… I’m the next best person since I know everything you do. So I figured…” You shrugged looking back down at the file on your lap and highlighter in hand. “And you wouldn’t let me help you.”

“That’s how you’re helping?” Aaron asked as he stepped around the couch to sit beside you. You looked up at him, watching him press a hand over his injuries.

“How else am I supposed to help?” you scoffed, looking over at Aaron again, “I mean, you know what’s best for you, Aaron. I’m just trying to help and follow what the doctors told you to do. You’re just too…” You let your words trail off, not finishing your thought. It wasn’t mean, you thought. But you didn’t want to take that chance.

“I…” Aaron started but failed when you cut him off.

“You almost died… Twice… All I want to do is help you. That’s all anyone wants to do, is help you.” Your voice broke off at the end. You had given up the fight. There was nothing left in you to keep going. So, you looked away from Aaron and tried to ignore the tears rolling down your cheeks.

Aaron silently reached out to hold your hand. You looked at him, your eyes wide as you stared.

“I’ve just never had help with…” Aaron’s words trailed off. You blinked slowly as you turned to face him more. You watched as he struggled to stand, and you could tell that he was trying to hide the real pain he was actually in.

“Come on.” He gently pulled your hand as he stood. You looked at him, your eyes wide and dewy. “The way you can help me is to lie in bed with me. You can keep working, or you can just lie beside me. That’s how you can help.”

“Aaron...”

“I don’t care what you have to say. You’re coming with me.” Aaron looked down at you with a furrowed brow. There was a certain softness to his features.

“Fine,” You whispered as you begrudgingly stood to your feet. Aaron looked over at you before taking the lead back into the bedroom. You were both quiet as you slipped into the bed.

“Will you rest now?” You looked over at him as he laid beside you. You were too focused on being annoyed and wanting to help him that you didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep. You didn’t know when, but he had also had an arm thrown over your body. Usually the roles were reversed. And you realized just how much you actually loved Aaron, even though he’s stubborn and hard-headed.

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[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 10

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

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

Tulipa alba coreulea oculata ~ A modest tulip of pearl hue that awakens before its sisters in the early spring. When she blooms, the inky beauty of her indigo heart is revealed.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

Colors danced in soft swirls under your closed eyelids. They were so thickly painted that you felt as if one swipe of your hand would intertwine their chromatic trails and mix their hues. You recognized this work of art as your euphoria; the painting of which you dreamed of many moons ago.

The delicate hands of your little muse patted your cheeks in a gentle reminder that you were too close to the surface to drift back into darkness. Here you waited in this limbo with the young girl, watching as the colors spun faster against her obsidian locks. She was the culmination of everything you could have in the future where you recovered.

The colors gained ferocity as the natural lighting from the wide window above your bed assaulted your eyes. It was as if you were an infant gazing upon the unfamiliar world so intensely it was painful. The searing brightness crinkled your brow and pinched uncomfortably at the corners of your eyes.

Sharp pain bombarded you just as the light did. It’s ivory beams peeled the lengthened sleep from your body and left a dull aching in its wake. The discomfort that now hugged your form was worth it, though, for when your vision gradually sifted up from the murky depths of unconsciousness you wanted to cry on spot at the valkyrie before you.

He contrasted so vibrantly against the pearly essence of the wallpaper of your room that you weren’t sure if you were still actually dwelling in your painting. An overwhelming urge to mold into him wracked your sedentary muscles. You were agitated at your weakened body, irritated that it couldn’t give your mind what it desired. The magnetic sensation was so strong that, willing your mind could override your physical short circuitry, it would have ejected itself out of its damaged shell and crashed into his open chest.

“Lee-” You rasped. Your voice was an exclamation within but manifested into a barely audible moan.

The minute noise grasped his attention, though.

Your phantom limbs bounced with touch starved compulsion when his head whipped around. You finally laid actual eyes on your favorite features sculpted by the universe.

“Lee-vi.” You croaked. The excitement of saying his name sapped what little energy you had from you as you fell into the little girl’s awaiting palms once more.

You lingered momentarily on the rickety bridge between consciousness and nothingness, listening to his muffled frantic calls. A warm wind rocked the bridge as his hands against your cheeks hit you like a summer heat wave. His touch endowed you with newfound vigor and your eyes opened once again.

He hovered mere inches from your face. The skin you longed to embrace was carved with petal-soft streams of tears that pooled from his desperate eyes and traversed porcelain slopes to drip down his chin. Your eyes instantly brimmed with salty gratitude upon being able to swim in those stormy seas of silver.

“Levi…” You breathily whimpered, the corners of your mouth quivering upward as what felt like years of being trapped in a bottle. Ten minutes he had grappled for his name on your lips but to you, it had left like a passing fancy.

“It’s me. It’s me-Y/N, it’s me .” He reassured for both himself, and for you. His voice wobbled with the desperate tambour of a colt eager to stand on its own among spring grass. The sheer quaking of his form; from his deeply furrowed brow, to the tears that fell in divine pools, to the frantic hesitation of his touches was in a magnitude that you had never seen in him before.

“Levi.” You sighed again, a weak smile sluggishly tugging at the corners of your lips. Like a chick learning to chirp you repeated his name as a mantra.

And by Ymir every time you chirped he vibrated at a frequency you couldn’t outwardly match.

“I’m here, Y/N.” He cooed as his emptiness finally filled with the colors of your essence. He pressed your foreheads together and basked in the warmth of your skin. “And you’re finally here.”

The simple physical touch satisfied both of your needy minds; Levi to know you were awake and you to feel like you were present. He wanted to say more. Explode with everything he had seen and felt these past few days. To unload what felt like months of unshared memories in your absence. But he didn’t want to overwhelm you any more. So he settled on four words.

“I love you, Y/N.” He uttered. You could hear the incoming flow of tears diluting his tone. Those words had fallen from his lips countless times since your accident, both internally and externally, but now they actually fell upon you. And it felt like nothing else mattered. “I love you, I love you.”

“And I love you.” You cried, fingers ever so tiredly trailing up his arm to weakly touch the softness of his hair. The strands glided between your languid flutters. There you stayed basking in the feeling of home and letting the bulbs of your love bloom between you.

“Wh...where are we? It looks like…” You trailed off as your head lolled onto his shoulder. Your eyes trailed the room, from window to wall and bureau to bedside table.

“We’re at Oma’s.” Levi explained as he smoothed down some hairs tangled in your drool from the corner of your mouth.

“Oma…” Relief was evident in your exhale. There was no other place and no other sheets you would rather be cocooned in than your childhood room after the last image your eyes captured was that carrion swamp of toothy rocks.

“She’s here then?” You asked, blinking to make sure you were actually awake.

“She left a bit ago to run errands with Felicia-”

“Felicia…” Your lips wandered over their names as if you were recalling them from a story read long ago.

“Mhm. She and Oma have been taking care of you.” Levi checked your eyes for any signs of dilation and disorientation as you processed everything. Everything seemed fine until you groaned when a chord of pain shot up your taught muscles.

“My side hurts.” You complained as your body reflexively stretched.

“I know. Don’t try to move too quickly.” Levi instructed gently. He tried to reposition you into a less painful sitting position with as much sweetness as his voice.

“How bad is it?” You bared your teeth as he shifted you. Levi kept his face from cringing at the memory of Oma fabricating a new seam for your flesh. He played with your fingers to keep your attention on staying awake.

“Oma had to stitch almost your entire side. You...had lost a lot of blood already before I found you. But I was able to put enough pressure on it to keep you-” Levi swallowed and finished his sentence with a deep inhale.

The grotesque images of the incident were painted in thick brush strokes along the bow of your brain. To push them down you focused your gaze on Levi’s doting touches and the smoothness of his milky skin.

“Do you remember what happened?” He pressed, gentle and hesitant.

You hummed in affirmation. You were sure not even the void could remove the scars left upon you by death’s cradle; both physically and mentally.

“Connie and I were alone. We were clearing out the titans to the west when Reiner knocked the wind out of me and I fell right into the abnormal…” You felt Levi’s fingers twitch in aggravation. You were too exhausted now to feel that intense hatred that had been palm-up body slammed into you.

“It grazed my side with its teeth...but I managed to take it down.” You drew in a ragged breath, the pseudo-smell of carcasses overpowering the sweet smell of the tea still steeping in the kettle nearby.

“I...I felt like what being chewed alive is like, Levi.”

Your utter outpouring of torture and fearful tears had Levi’s heart shattering all over again as it had the moment he retrieved your limp body from that sticky pool of blood. He caged the animosity that steamed under his skin for Reiner’s negligence, for the titan’s bloodlust, and for the dangerous oath both of you had taken. He had more to be grateful for right now than angry over.

His thumbs pressed feather-light kisses to your water lines, drying the flooded areas. He brought his hands to your cheeks and leaned in close so you were forced to reside within the shining slate mines of his irises.

“You’re alright now. You’re here, I’m here. You made it out, sweetheart, and nothing will be able to bring you back to that moment.” Levi said with a firmness and sincerity that bathed you in immediate serenity.

Levi rarely used pet-names with you. His terms of endearment came in the form of actions and gestures rather than words. Only when he wanted to communicate something deeper, a feeling he would never come close to conveying with his vocabulary, did they break through the surface.

“I’m assuming I fucked him up since I’m still alive.” You tried to joke as dizziness further loosened its constricting grip on your head.

“From what I saw, you absolutely fucked him up.” Levi cracked a smile when you wheezed out a laugh.

“Did Eren-?” You began. Your blackout had left you with many unanswered questions.

“I don’t know. By the time I had seen your flare they had already disappeared.” He answered.

“Don’t even.” He added. He sifted through your disorientation and hurt to find the fledgling tendrils of guilt creeping up your brow.

“None of us expected that attack. We all did what we could and no one can fault us for that.”

You chewed the inner corner of your lip and let his words sink in.

“You fought so well. You protected Connie and killed that abnormal who most likely would have gone on to kill someone else. I’m proud of you.”

Your bottom lip quivered under his earnest praise.

You strained towards him and Levi realized you were attempting to give him a kiss. He hesitated momentarily, afraid of embracing you in a sore spot or accidentally pressing you backwards at an awkward angle. With a delicate crane of his neck he met you more than halfway. His lips fell upon yours with the tenderness of a newborn fawn’s footsteps but the ferocity of lovers parted by a great ocean.

He drew back to see a pout where his lips had just resided.

“What is it?”

“I really have to pee.” You stated.

Levi’s rocking waves of baritone laughter and his steady arms lifted you from your bed.

“I want to try walking.” You proclaimed with determination, gaze focused straight ahead on the ensuite bathroom.

Levi was impressed with how well you tottered across the room, with his structural support of course. He would wince every time you did but you didn’t let the fire in your side impede your locomotion.

“Do you need me to stay?” He asked in genuine concern. He watched you skeptically as you wobbled above the toilet.

“You pervert.” You huffed, grimacing at the tightness in your thighs as you crouched down. “But yes please.”

Once business had been taken care of and you had assured him you felt coordinated enough to slowly walk back to bed yourself, Levi had gone to clean up his fallen tea cup. He had just finished dabbing the bedside rug with a rag when your sniffle dragged him to his feet.

The fabric of your nightgown, despite being silken to the touch, had snagged the rough skin of your stitches like sharp brambles as you bunched it up to your breasts. With your torso fully exposed to your morbidly curious gaze, you had never been more disgusted with yourself.

Your body resembled the two sides of a coin in how starkly different they looked. Supple curves flowed beautifully into strong and nimble legs. Across the way, a crescent moon of scissored flesh dug its hooks into your once smooth skin. Lightning bolts of broken blood vessels and bruising held your thigh to your hips like a haphazardly made corn doll.

“I’ve never looked so weak.” Your disbelief manifested itself in a dark chuckle. The image of your battered body had left you in shock at your forced metamorphosis. Your fingertips barely tapped at your stitches as if they were repulsed to be in the vicinity of your wound.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from your tears until Levi’s body carefully wrapped around yours from behind. He didn’t dare touch your scarring, but he did intertwine your hands with his and placed his head on your shoulder.

“I don’t think you’ve ever looked so strong.” He whispered with an airy kiss to your neck. You looked up to meet his eyes in the mirror and your chest clenched at his unfiltered adoration.

“You will heal. And to speed that up you need to not push yourself.” Levi gently ushered you away from the mirror and turned you back towards the bed.

As you walked, your gaze fell to the open bedroom door. Your eyes began to water once again, pooling at your bottom lids like the body of water you now cried for. Levi anxiously regarded you and your newest bout of tears.

“Levi...is Puddle?” You coughed. A heavy rock of dread plummeted into your stomach. You couldn’t recall the last time you had seen your other beloved boy. Levi grinned fondly.

“He’s fine. He’s out in the pasture.” He assured you. He felt the breath you had been holding release against his side and you continued your journey back to bed.

Once you had practically deflated back into the blankets, it dawned on Levi that you would need sustenance.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Lightheaded?” He mused like a mother hen.

“All of the above but I don’t think I can stomach anything right now.”

“I’ll just get water, then.” He decided and dipped out of the room. The steady tick-tock of the carved clock and the twittering of the birds above you almost lulled you to sleep when Levi re-emerged.

The water was unpleasant; too cool against the dryness of your throat. As you forced yourself to gulp it down, you registered Levi’s outfit. The realization made you lightly gasp.

“What’s wrong?” Levi bristled, fearing one of your organs decided to pop.

“Those clothes…” You whispered as you licked the final droplets of water from your lips.

Shit, were you upset he had borrowed them? Maybe he was encroaching on something precious.

“Y/N I didn’t-”

You shook your head and smiled sweetly.

“They look good on you.” You giggled at the blush that rose on his pale cheeks.

“The pants are a little too long though...shorty.” You winked weakly. Levi was relieved that you felt alright enough to tease him. It was a more than welcome nuisance.

“Not my fault everyone in your family besides Oma seem to be giants.” He countered as he sat down on the empty side of the bed.

“Oh Ymir, I’ve been out for...how long have I been unconscious?”

“Two and a half days.”

“ Shit , that means you’ve been all alone with Oma.” You whined. “I take full responsibility for anything she’s done or said.”

Levi shut you up with another kiss the consistency of butterfly wings. He pulled back and your heart fluttered at the light in his features.

“We get along pretty well.”

“She hasn’t scarred you yet? That’s a first.”

“I didn’t say that.” He replied with impish jest.

“We...understand one another.” Levi stated simply. You beamed at his comment and gave him a once over, noting his seemingly pristine physical condition.

“You’re doing okay? You look fine.”

“My shoulder is bruised and I feel stiff but that’s it.” He reassured with a spirited flex of his shoulder blades.

Your mouth hung open in incoming speech when a crashing at the base of the stairs followed by two sets of groans interrupted you.

“Dammit Felicia just-place them at the bottom of the stairs. No! See I knew this was going to happen, your arms are the consistency of chicken legs. You could have easily made a second trip from the carriage.” Oma scolded her with fiery disappointment obvious in her tone.

You and Levi exchanged amused glances at the antics below the stairs.

“Levi, are you up here?” Oma called as she ascended to the second floor. You bit your lips in anticipation of your reunion with your grandmother.

“I’m in here.” Levi replied with a squeeze of your hand.

“That foolish girl has just spilled half of her suitcase onto the floor.” The old woman complained as she approached your bedroom. A pair of crutches under one arm and a fresh package of bandages entered your room just before she did.

“I mean, really, she has to be aware that she has the strength of a bumbleb-”

“Hi Oma.” You hiccuped. Your cheerful greeting faded into a whimper at the sight of her. She looked as lively and as lovely as you had last seen her. The crutches fell to the floor with a sharp clatter and she turned to you with wide eyes.

“ Oh , my darling.” She croaked, gliding to your side and smothering you with careful kisses on every corner of your face. Levi pulled away to let the weeping woman embrace her kin. You buried your head into her shoulder and sighed into her familiar cradle.

The beautiful, joyously tearful reunion drove that stake of peculiar familial warmth deeper into Levi’s chest as he silently watched on as Oma and you began to catch up.

“Y/N!” Felicia screamed. She stood at the foot of the bed utterly petrified with relieved shock.

“Hi Felicia.” A grin parted the wetness on your face. She was quick to take you into her arms as well, and held you there as she rambled on about how ecstatic she was that you were awake.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You said as she pulled away. Your eyes crinkled and her’s mirrored yours.

“All of you.” You added, looking to every one of your earthly angels around you. “What time is it?”

“Half past three.” Oma said, squinting at the clock.

“Aw, I missed my morning coffee.”

The once fragile room was filled with hearty laughter and smiles for the rest of that afternoon.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

After spending the next few hours lazing with second swigs of tea and half eaten dinner plates, Levi gave your interlocked palms a squeeze. He broke away and padded out of the room to give you and Oma much needed alone time. The clanking of porcelain against the sink drew his attention to the kitchen archway and he paused momentarily along his descent.

“It sounds like an earthquake is breaking all of your dishes.” Levi commented dryly. Felicia yelped in surprise, generating even more clanking.

“Eek, I apologize if my cleaning has been bothering you! Oh walls, has it been loud enough to disturb Y/N??” She buzzed in anxiety. Levi threw her a half smile.

“I was joking. Clearly you didn’t take it that way...do you need help?” He said and leaned in the archway to the kitchen.

“O-oh...ahahah.” She sputtered and offered a wiggly, but calmer, grin back. “No, I’m all good here despite the noise. So no need to trouble yourself! Although I know you do love cleaning…”

Levi deadpanned into a single nod and continued out to the front porch. Two rocking chairs perched themselves along the ornate railing as they relished in the feature film that was the evening tulips. The fields were dulled by the blue haze of the encroaching moonlight.

He plopped down into the aged wood and took in his new favorite smell; country air. He had absolutely no idea what he had been missing with the must and dust of the underground and the metallic smell of blood against pine needles outside the walls.

He let time take the backseat to his rocking as he mildly entertained himself by finding shapes in the swaying flowers. His hand absentmindedly fiddled with the contents of his pocket. He sighed contently and brought them out of their cotton resting place and into the open. The two little bands of gold were illuminated against the pale floral sea.

A snort jolted the rings back into his pocket and whipped his head to the source. His body stiffened like an agitated teenager harboring stolen alcohol. Oma had appeared with a pony, a creature of small mousey brown and stout stature. It bore a harness with large wicker baskets hanging from either side of its chubby shoulders.

“Wanna help a brittle old woman with some last minute harvesting? I’m extremely behind on today’s work for obvious reasons." Oma invited with spice in her tone. If she had seen the jewelry, she was very convincing at hiding otherwise. Levi indulged in the rocking chair, creaking back and forth a couple times, before heaving himself up silently.

“It will do you good to get those muscles moving.” She said, patting his good shoulder as he neared. Once he was standing next to her she gripped his collar and yanked it downward. Levi faltered at the unexpected grapple and stumbled backwards. She peeped under the cloth, admiring the progress of her handiwork.

“Looks good still.” She affirmed, playfully snapping the band back and she waltzed into the field. “Damn I’m one hell of a seamstress.”

Levi followed the pony’s hoofprints down the main lane until the house was barely in view. They arrived at a patch of tulips the color of midday sunshine and lemon drop candy.

“Alright, look here boy.” She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. Levi regarded her as she kneeled down in front of her chosen flowers, one of the wicker baskets loyally resting at her side.

“It’s not as simple as pulling the damned thing up, you might tear the bulb out that way. If you do that you owe me whatever I would have earned from the re-cultivation of that tulip.” She sternly explained, sending him daggers in her eyes he had come to recognize held no malice.

Levi watched carefully as she dug out around the base of the stem, twisted gently with a firm grasp, and lifted, effortlessly releasing the flower from its anchor. He kneeled down in his picking area and mimicked her movements. After a couple broken stems and constructive criticism they had fallen into a steady rhythm.

“So...do you want to show me what’s jangling around in your pocket?” Oma inquired with a sly innocence. Levi eyed her with his grasp mid stem. Her features were smug with knowledge.

“You want to see what is inside my pocket?” Levi quipped back as he yanked the flower from its birthplace.

“Uh-huh.”

“Like...lint?” Levi returned matter-of-factly. He was grateful straight facing was his most coveted skill in interrogations such as these.

Oma cackled and blew the excess dirt from her fingertips.

“I saw the rings, Levi. No use playing dumb with me.” She stopped her harvest and gauged him for a reaction.

Levi cleared his throat and continued working.

“How do you know I wasn’t keeping them safe for Erwin’s wedding to his eyebrows?” Levi replied with an even tone. He cringed at his bullshit.

“Now that’s a wedding I’d like to be invited to.” Oma laughed, and Levi couldn’t help but grin at his absolute shitty cover up.

“It doesn’t- didn’t - really matter that much to me. Getting married.” He began as his hand hovered over the wind kissed petals of his next flower. It took a couple of soft sways for him to decide how to articulate his feelings.

“Why should I let a piece of paper, a circlet of metal, and some holy man manifest a promise that I’ve already committed to her myself?”

Oma hummed along in acknowledgment.

“But...realizing how much marriage meant to her made me place my opinions aside and realize I was being selfish in my reservations.”

A grasshopper popped in and out of the columns of stems.

“She’s never made a big deal out of it, but I’m not blind. I see the way she fawns over wedding dresses and how her eyes light up when she sees families on the street.”

His tone grew somber as thoughts of doubt flooded his mind. When the thought of becoming a husband and even a father crossed his mind he shoved them immediately into the darkest corners of his subconscious. But despite those intimate fears, he would never doubt he wanted to make you happy for the rest of his days.

“I want to give Y/N something that she can cherish for a long time in a world where everything we have seems so temporary. And standing through a ceremony celebrating our commitment...I guess isn’t the worst thing I could think of.”

With a slow exhale, he removed the rings from his pocket and held them up. Oma noted he regarded them with the same tenderness he reserved for you. His self awareness and lack of confidence intertwined with the utter devotion she could see he had for you brewed a hearth in her chest.

“Well, congratulations. They’re lovely. She’s going to absolutely love them.” Pure fondness spread through every crevasse in Oma’s face and overwhelmed Levi with domesticity. He averted her gaze and repocketed his trinkets. He grunted awkwardly with a nod.

“Thank you.” She said and began working again.

“For what?” Levi’s brow furrowed as he too resumed.

“For loving her, and receiving her love in return. It sounds like a lot of fairy-tale bullshit and troll scrotums, but love is quite the powerful ally.”

He rose his head to a crinkled smile and he nodded with a half moon of his own on his lips. His smile, however, did not betray the bleakness in his features.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of them as they continued to pluck the beauties from their earthy homes. They eavesdropped on the occasional yowl from a fox and the croaking of toads.

“Do you know what makes a good, sturdy, lively tulip, shorty?” Oma asked as she strong-armed one from the ground. She examined the flower with eyes that Levi’s own vision would never be able to duplicate.

“Water.” He guessed offhandedly, flicking a worm off of the roots of his own flower.

The older woman scoffed at the blandness of his answer.

“If that’s all it took, I’d be richer and my lower back wouldn’t ache like a bitch.” She cackled. “You’ve got the basic idea. But you haven’t even scratched the most important bits.”

Levi’s verbal silence pressed her to continue as he scooted over to the next patch nearest to him.

“First you need rich soil. If you live where that soil is contaminated-ya know too much clay, too little nutrients. Then you need to physically make the soil capable of growing life.” She began with a bulky wheeze as she lifted her basket to reposition herself over her floral children.

“Here, thankfully the soil is loose, airy, and just a bit sandy. But that wasn’t the case at our old place. A downright hard job it was to get those little bastards to grow. But we did.”

“Once you’ve got your soil sorted out, you need the bulbs. Some of the bulbs won’t make it. That’s just how it is. But the ones that do poke their little heads above the ground and leave their dark incubations.”

“Then comes the water.” She looked at him pointedly and he rolled his eyes. “It’s the one constant thing in a tulip’s life that nurtures it into maturity.”

“How versed are you in tulip anatomy?” Oma asked as she held her latest victim up. Levi blinked at her.

“Expertly.”

His sass made her smirk.

“Well, then you’ll know that petals-arguably the most cherished and viewed piece-are a part of the tulip. So is the stamen, pistil, and pedicel.” She lectured while supporting her points with gestures to the places on the plant she was talking about.

“While they are all interconnected with the flower, they aren’t the whole tulip.” She stated. She threw the saffron colored flower in an underhand swoop to Levi who caught it effortlessly. He twirled the soft skin of the largest petals between his thumb and index finger as she talked before tossing it into his own basket.

“There’s a lot nature can teach us about ourselves. I mean we’re all natural beings, even the titans.” She said with pursed lips and swiftly grabbed at the pony’s halter when she saw him mouthing for the buffet in her basket.

“That’s why I’ve stuck with this job for so long. By looking at them, they remind me that my oddities, mistakes, and what-have-you, may linger with me and be a part of me...but they aren’t all of me. There’s still a bulb down there under the earth waiting to re-blossom.”  

Levi now understood the depth of her analogy. Normally, if someone was beating around the bush to tell him he needs to cheer up he would have either slammed the door in their face, or their face into the door. But this didn’t feel like that. Her words seeped into his heart and rested there in what he could only begin to grasp as...parental warmth.

“That’s what you need to do to help yourself, I’ve learned. To cultivate learning to live with yourself and then in turn others.” She sighed as she pressed the disturbed soil back into place.

When Levi looked down, his hands were suddenly so small and so caked in dirt. But not dirt from the fields. No, it was an oily, slick dirt that tasted like oxidized metal when he ate stale bread from them.

“Tulips don’t live forever even though they blossom every year. Life could not exist without death, and it only hurts yourself to deny mortality in you and in others. It only makes you suffer, not the loved ones that have passed before you or the ones that slipped through your fingers.”

He was shaking like he used to when his malnourished body constantly teetered on the edge of starvation. His bony wrists buckled under the immense weight of the flower and it tumbled to the ground in front of him. He wore a once expensive sleeping gown gifted to his mother by one of her regulars. It was clearly for her, but she had given it to her poor son to provide him with that extra warmth when she was too sick to wrap him in her love herself. It was tattered and stained from years of wear. But it still smelled of her.

“Everyone and everything in this world of ours must die. Life is a precious gift with that knowledge. And a gift so precious can’t be wasted on beating yourself down for existing, for living . Self proclaimed demons and mistakes in all.”  

Levi felt the childish pressure of tears building behind his eyes. He wished to choke out a whine, to let them burst out, to feel the safety of his mother’s chest against his wet cheeks instead of her lifeless embrace. He felt the tantrum of frustration at all of this emotion he kept so expertly under lock and key. His bare toes sank into the flowers behind him as he knelt on the soil just as he did the cramped trailer where he resided when his mother worked in their room.

He finally felt like a child in the presence of a mother’s comfort. Oma’s consolation brought back that gangly, mute, shelled boy. The boy who had to grow up into a man overnight, surrounded by reflections in knives and last words as screams. The boy who never had the chance to cry it out about foolish things like his mother not being able to take him on a walk through the city, like his bloated belly eating itself instead of dinner, like never being able to see the sun. The boy who was always the pillar for others and never had a guardian to stroke his head and tell him that better days are coming.

“I’m rambling like this because I see the intense self loathing in you that I used to feel for myself-” She half chuckled to make light of her weighted words. The dry laugh faded into the air with the rest of her sentence when she gazed upon him. Her smile dropped as bubbling tears cascaded over his dark bottom lashes.

“Oh, my dear.” Oma gasped out a breathy coo. She instantly dropped her basket, not caring if her naughty pony ate some of her crop. She flew to him; her knees before his and her hand pressing his head to her shoulder. Her other arm rubbed ginger ovals into his back that urged him to crumple into her strong embrace.

For a moment, he wondered if this is what his mother would have felt like if she hadn’t been so frail. He could only guess that this is the feeling he had missed. The childhood was never nurtured into him. The childhood he had forsaken for survival. And in a twisted way, he was now more than ever thankful for the horrors of his youth as he nestled into Oma’s loving arms. Because he was beginning to understand that his own life was precious. Not just yours or Oma’s or Felicia’s or Erwin’s or Petra’s or everyone he fought for.

She was right, and Levi was too prideful to tell her how grateful he was for her in this moment.

“I.” He fought to swallow his shame in his childish behavior, but the soft strokes of her fingers through his hair and the solace in his chest at her gentle rocking plunged it down his esophagus.

“I needed to hear that.” His voice quivered into the puffy fabric of her shoulder.

"We all do." Oma hummed and continued her ministrations, allowing him to tearfully bleed a lifetime of juvenile sorrows onto her and out of him.

Maybe he did need to let his withered leaves and wilted colors fall from his body, leaving him with just his skeleton and his heart.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

The creaking of the wood under his boots was the only sound in the dim darkness of the newborn night as he made his way upstairs. He paused at your door, glancing in to see you tucked back under the sheets. A half smile carried him back to his temporary chambers to wash up. He managed to fully wash the silt from under his fingernails and his knuckles while still keeping Oma's comfort there.

When he deemed himself fully cleansed, he slunk through the crack in your doorway without causing the hinges on the old wood to groan. He deftly sat in the chair still positioned next to your form. His eyes softened at the slight twitch of your nose and your steady breaths.

Just as he began admiring the warm glow of life rising back up into your skin, your eyelashes fluttered in greeting.

“Did I wake you?” He whispered, his voice devoid of anything but airy tenderness.

You shook your head, the plushness of your pillow swallowing your face then regurgitating it up.

“No, I was just resting my eyes.” You blatantly lied through a smile that was blinding in comparison to the muted candle light.

“I’ve slept too much these past few days. I don’t want to right now��” You began with the saddest attempt at a pout Levi had ever witnessed. Just speaking that sentence already almost sent you into another deep slumber.

“Then just keep resting your eyes then, instead of sleeping.” Levi whispered as you trailed off in obvious exhaustion. He pressed his hand to your forehead, blissfully cool from the tap water, and moved your hair away. In its place, his lips placed the sweet hum of affectionate proximity on your skin.

You registered the chair rubbing against the floorboards through the incoming sleep.

“Will you stay, Levi?” You asked, doe eyes blinking up through the gray.

You didn’t even have to ask him.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

You felt the bed dip to your left. He settled in beside you on his side, his arm a firm resting place for his head as he gazed upon you through the night veil. He didn’t draw you to him as he usually would. It would scar him if he selfishly undid the hard work of Oma and Felicia. For now, just basking in the aura of your wellbeing was enough of a security blanket. You weakly shifted so your head was perched in his direction.

The two of you laid in silent fear of sleep. You didn’t want your beautiful little angel to carry you back into the void. Levi didn’t want his demons to vouch all of this as a practical joke and take you from him when he rose the next morning.

“Levi.”

“Hmm?”

“You called her Oma.” You mumbled, finally relenting into the arms of rest.

“I did.”

[cherienymphe]

Protect & Serve V (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: Cop!Steve, NON-CON, mentions of violence and murder and assault

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary:  escaping an ugly past, you have no choice but to return home. While much has remained the same, Officer Rogers is a new addition who has won over the hearts of the town in your absence. And no one believes you when you start to see him for who he really is

~

When you woke up, you felt like you’d slept for days. Knowing Steve, and having no clue as to what he injected you with, that might be true. You had dry mouth, that much you could tell, and your head still felt like it weighed a ton. Peeling your eyes open was rather difficult, but when you did, you realized that you were in a different room from the one before.

You pushed yourself up to lean on your forearms, looking around and listening. The house was quiet, a far cry from the last time you were here. You guessed that all of Steve’s guests were gone, and you didn’t know if you should be relieved or not. You didn’t know why you thought their presence would protect you when it wouldn’t. They had literally helped Steve recapture you after also watching your unconscious form be carried into his house to begin with. Maybe it was better that they were gone…

Now you could start formulating another escape without them around to catch you.

A stabbing pain struck you behind your eyes, and you squinted, bringing your fingers up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You cursed Steve to hell and back. Why had he given you the option of walking back with him when he was going to do what he wanted anyway? Did he get some sick pleasure out of it all?

Speaking of pleasure, you noted the soreness in between your thighs and wondered if Steve had done a lot more to you while you were out. He’d said that it wasn’t his style, but he couldn’t be trusted. You pressed your thighs together and winced, sitting up. Just as you considered what to do next, the bedroom door opened.

You sharply inhaled as Steve filled the doorway, heart rate picking up at the sight of him. Was it crazy that you were more terrified of him than you had been of your ex-husband? At least with Killian, you had grown to know what to expect. Steve had shattered every one of your expectations.

“You’re awake,” he said, stepping further into the room.

You didn’t know what to do, so you just stared at him as he approached. For your own sake, you needed to keep your eyes on him at all times. Escape was your top priority, and you had to think smart about it. He gripped your chin, turning your head to the side to gaze at your eyes, and hummed, clearly satisfied.

“You’ve been asleep for almost an entire day,” he informed you, grabbing your arm.

He helped you out of bed, and you let him. Your body was still fighting off whatever he gave you, and you stumbled. Steve was more than happy to catch you though, arm thrown around you, hand digging into your shoulder as he leaned you into his side.

He was patient as he helped you out of the room and down the stairs. The smell of food hit you, and you sniffed, stomach grumbling. Steve heard it and chuckled.

“I made breakfast,” he said, leading you into the kitchen.

A modest dining table was on the far side, and your eyes fell to the food laid upon it. You couldn’t trust him, having no idea as to what he wanted from you, so there was no telling what was in the food. However, you couldn’t afford to not eat. Steve turned his back after helping you sit down, and you glanced through the living room to look at the lake on the other side of the window. Getting across that lake was your best chance…

Too busy staring, you didn’t notice him approach until your hands were being handcuffed to the arms of the chair. You gasped, and he did the same with your ankles. Forgetting about your injury, you jerked your legs, only to cry out at the pain that traveled through your ankle. Steve hummed at that, sitting next to you.

“You gave Bucky and Sam hell. Thor too,” he added.

You watched as he picked up some scrambled eggs on a fork before bringing it to your lips. Realizing that you didn’t have much of a choice, you reluctantly parted them. The food tasted good enough, and he fed you again.

You licked your lips.

“You sound surprised,” you whispered, eyes meeting his.

A faint smirk was on his lips, and he chuckled.

“Not surprised…impressed. I like a fighter,” he said, reaching out to grab his glass of water.

He never broke his gaze from over the rim of the glass, and you blinked.

“…but I could tell that from the first moment I met you. So reluctant to accept a ride from a nice small-town cop-.”

“There isn’t anything nice about you,” you sneered.

Steve chuckled, nodding fondly.

“I suppose you’re right about that,” he agreed. “Nevertheless, the average person doesn’t pick up on that. Of course…you would…”

You glanced away as he fed you again.

“…tell me about him,” he eventually said.

You looked back to him with a frown. You knew who he was talking about, and your heart clenched. He pressed his elbows into the wood of the table, hands clasped together as he eyed you.

“Your ex-husband,” he elaborated.

You heaved a deep sigh, frustration coloring your tone.

“Why?”

“Because I want to know,” was his simple response.

You swallowed, a shiver climbing up your spine as you thought about the other blond man in your life.

“What…what do you want to know?” you wondered with a shrug.

He reached out to brush a finger down the side of your face, running it over your bottom lip.

“Tell me why you stayed,” he quietly demanded.

Figuring there was no harm in humoring him, you answered.

“I…was afraid. I had nowhere to go and…part of me…felt like I was being punished. Like I deserved it…”

“For what?”

“For leaving my family and friends behind,” you murmured. “For ignoring them for years…”

Steve nodded at that, pulling his hand away.

“I am sorry about your family. I meant that when I told you that. They were good people,” he replied.

You blinked. Of course, he had known them. How could he not? It didn’t sit right with you that someone like him had interacted with your family…especially while you weren’t around. You wondered how he behaved towards them, if he ever made any of them feel as uncomfortable as he did with you.

“The funerals were lovely. Was he the reason you didn’t go?”

You suddenly found it hard to swallow, and tears kissed your eyes as he brought that up. He reached out to brush a rogue one away, and you jerked away from him. Missing the funerals of your family was definitely your biggest regret. Every time you thought about it, your hate for Killian grew.

You didn’t have to answer because Steve already knew.

“Bucky told me that you thought he was the one at your house every night. He said that you had feared he would find you,” he said, making you frown at the mention of the brunette.

You looked down when his hand found yours, brushing circles into the skin with his thumb.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he murmured, and your frown deepened.

You clenched your jaw, biting back what you wanted to say, and seeing the look on your face made Steve laugh. You looked up at him, gaze cold.

“I know what you must be thinking…that I won’t get away with this…”

He took another bite, leaning back in his chair as he eyed you smugly.

“…but I will. Hell, I’ve gotten away with worse,” he chuckled.

Your brow twitched, and you narrowed your eyes at him, recalling something that Wanda had said.

“Peggy?”

You watched the way his face fell, and you continued.

“Wanda said she’d just…left right after the breakup. I never thought that seemed her style…”

Your tone was accusatory, and apparently with good reason. Steve slowly exhaled, straightening up as he rubbed his hand over his chin, elbow pressed into the table as his eyes gazed at something you couldn’t see.

“Peggy…was an accident,” he admitted, and genuine remorse registered on his features.

Remorseful or not, your eyes still widened as he confirmed what you had initially suspected but brushed off, convinced that your paranoia was getting the best of you. Now, you knew the truth. You weren’t just sitting with a kidnapper, but you were sitting with a murderer too.

“You see, I started having my fun before I came here. I’d help out unsuspecting girls in need. Sometimes they were homeless…sometimes they just needed a ride home…to the store…”

Horror filled you as he spoke, and you started to realize that you weren’t dealing with an amateur.

“They’d get in, and I’d offer them a bottle of water I kept inside.”

Of course, they would. Steve Rogers looked like the poster boy for good Samaritans everywhere. Those soft blue eyes could convince anyone. Said eyes met yours, serious.

“They’d always accept. Either out of genuine thirst or just to avoid being rude, I don’t know. I didn’t care. They’d be knocked out within minutes…”

You felt like you were going to be sick.

“…when I was done, I’d park at wherever they had wanted me to take them to. They’d eventually arouse, and I’d convince them that they had nodded off. None of them ever suspected, and if they did, what could they say?”

He rose an eyebrow.

“The friendly neighborhood cop, Officer Rogers, drugged and raped me?”

He scoffed, and you blinked away tears.

“…and Peggy?” you forced out.

Steve sighed.

“I got tired of the coldness and casualness of it all,” he said with a shrug. “I realized that I wasn’t getting any younger, and Peggy… She was so sweet.”

He sadly shook his head.

“Like every other woman in this town, she was itching at the chance to have me. But unlike the rest, she wasn’t bold about it. She was coy, and I liked that. It wasn’t long before I had her in the palm of my hands,” he chuckled at that. “Literally.”

Disgust churned in your stomach.

“She was everything I thought she’d be. Except…she wasn’t.”

When he looked at you again, his eyes were hard, face taut with tension as he recalled whatever memory you hadn’t been privy to.

“Peggy had plans,” he dragged out, voice low as he took another sip. “She wanted to achieve all of these great things…see the world…leave me.”

He huffed.

“We fought. Things got…physical, and the next thing I know, my hands are around her neck.”

You swallowed, tears spilling over now.

“Jesus,” he quietly scoffed. “I didn’t even realize until I let her go and she just…dropped.”

More tears fell, and he finally took notice. He reached over to wipe them, and you flinched.

“That’s right,” he hummed. “You grew up with her.”

He moved to feed you some more, but you shook your head, appetite lost. He let the fork drop before leaning back in his seat. He turned to look though the living room, eyes roaming over the lake through the window.

“She’s in that lake, you know. I think about her every time I look out onto it,” he quietly said, more to himself than you.

You sniffed, throat tight and chest burning. Fear gripped you, and you wondered if that was going to be your fate. Steve suddenly moved his chair closer to you, and you cried harder. He shushed you, reaching for you to wipe your face with his thumbs.

“That won’t be you. I promise,” he said as if reading your mind, hands resting on the sides of your face.

You shook your head.

“Why me?” you quietly asked him, no longer able to keep it in.

You had to know.

“I could see how broken you were,” he hummed, eyes roaming over your face. “…and I thought that I could fix you. That maybe we could fix each other, hmm? I give you the safety and security and love you’ve been craving for years, and you give me what I want.”

You frantically blinked, eyes searching his face.

“I could see that you wanted me too. Deep down, anyway. After all, I was a good guy. I’m sure Wanda told you something like that, didn’t she? That I would be good for you…and you had thought about it, considered it. I could see it in your eyes that night,” he continued. “Wondering what it would be like to be with a genuinely good guy…”

“I wasn’t ready,” you mumbled.

He took a deep breath.

“I know, but unfortunately for you… I don’t have much patience. At least not when it comes to something I know I want.”

“What…what do you want from me?” you finally wondered.

He let out a breath, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip as he stood, towering over you.

“I want you to look at me with complete adoration as I come inside of you. I want to come inside of you every night, calling you wife while I fill you with my children. I want to make love to you when you’re glowing and round with my child, but…right now…”

He reached for your plate again, bringing some more eggs to your lips.

“I want you to finish your food.”

Too stunned by his admission, you allowed him to feed you, fear gripping your heart at what would happen if you didn’t escape.

When you weren’t locked away in the room, and when you weren’t handcuffed at the table, Steve pretty much allowed you free reign. He was at your side at all times, of course, closely hovering. You figured it was best to seem cooperative. Of course, you didn’t think Steve was gullible enough to believe that you had accepted your situation. You both knew that you were just biding your time. It was only a matter of thinking of a way to escape before he thought of a way to stop you before you even tried.

You feared what he would do to keep you here…feared what he would do if he caught you trying to leave. You thought of Peggy, of how she had simply brought up the idea of leaving and had died for it. Steve’s desires weighed on your mind, and you knew that you only had so much time before he started to go through with them.

That second morning, you had woken up to the feel of a hard chest pressed against your back, a thick arm curling over your waist. It had taken you a moment to understand that the second room you had woken up in was his room. You had jerked in his grip, attempting to get away from him, but your movements had aroused him…in more ways than one.

His hold tightened, pulling you closer, and he groaned as sleep began to leave him. You could feel him poking against you, hard and hot, and you had panicked. You fought to get away from him, and he swiftly pushed you to lie on your back, settling in between your legs. Your hands, having attempted to push him away, were pinned between your bodies as he kissed you.

You gasped against his mouth, and his tongue slipped past your lips, tasting the inside of your mouth. His arms were pressed down on either side of you, caging you in, and you felt like you were suffocating. Steve paid no mind to your aversion, moaning against your trembling lips. One of his hands reached down to wrap around your wrists, dragging them above you until they were pinned just below the headboard.

His other hand slid down your side, kneading your skin as it descended. He ground himself against you, his hardened member poking at you through his shorts. You only had on a nightgown that he’d left outside of the shower the night before. You had briefly wondered if it belonged to Peggy. This very thing was a pressing concern of yours when you noticed the absence of underwear.

His free hand moved to make a home in between your legs, fingers brushing against and poking at you. You bit his tongue, hard, and you tasted blood. He ripped his face away from you with a hiss, and your satisfaction was short lived when he shoved two fingers inside of you to the hilt.

Your chest arched, a choked sound escaping your lips as he roughly fingered you. You turned your head away when he leaned back down, and his lips met your cheek.

“Do that again,” he whispered, lips moving against your skin. “…and I’ll make you pay for it.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his fingers glide within you more easily now. He hummed, mouth trailing down to your neck, sucking on the skin. You squirmed beneath him, trying to fight off the pleasure that was being forced on you. Your legs kicked around him, and he widened his, pushing his knees underneath your thighs to restrict your movement.

You pushed your wrists against his hands as he added a third finger, stretching you out. A moan threatened to bubble out of your throat, but you swallowed it down, whimpering instead. Steve wasn’t pleased with that. He continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, thumb coming up to brush against your swollen bud, and you whimpered again.

His hands tightened around your wrists as he sped up, almost painfully so, and he grinded against you. His lips attached themselves to your neck, pulling the skin in between his teeth, laving his tongue over you. He curled his fingers, and a broken moan finally slipped from your lips. He did it again and was met with the same result.

You turned your face as much into the pillow as you possible could, but Steve’s lips sought out your own, covering them in another kiss. He swallowed your moans, groaning into your mouth as your hips bucked against his hand. The hand that was holding your wrists down moved to intertwine with one of yours. You quickly pushed your free hand against his stomach, and when that didn’t work, you wrapped your hand around his wrist.

Your efforts were useless, Steve effortlessly working his fingers into you again and again.

“Stop,” you finally begged against his lips.

“Come for me, and I will,” he roughly replied.

He flicked his thumb over your bundle of nerves again, and you fell apart beneath him. He pulled back ever so slightly, your moans permeating through the air as he looked down at you. A few of his blond strands tickled your own forehead, and his nose kept brushing against yours as he worked you through your climax.

He looked down, eyes focused on the way you clenched around his fingers, hand a mess. Your chest heaved, breath shaky as he tightened his hold on your hand. You’d just woken up, but you felt tired all over again. He finally pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and humming.

“Good girl,” he murmured as he kissed the corner of your mouth.

He rolled off of you, and you caught sight of the large tent in his shorts. You looked away, hurriedly pulling your nightgown back down, disgust coursing through you. You didn’t move as he strode into the bathroom and turned the shower on. You only did so when low moans reached you minutes later, and you moved to exit the room, but it was locked. You noticed what looked like a key pad on the wall next to the light switch. You hadn’t noticed it the day before.

Realizing that you’d have to sit here and listen to him get himself off, you sat back down, covering your ears. You were still in that position when he finally exited, a towel loosely hanging on his lips. You watched as he walked into the closet and came back out with clothes that were clearly meant for you. Again, you wondered if these belonged to Peggy. He ushered you into the bathroom before you could give it any more thought.

Your time in the bathroom was quick. Your quick search of the cabinets turned up nothing useful for you. No type of medication or sedatives or anything. You would have loved nothing more to spend all day in the bathroom, but you didn’t want to give Steve the opportunity to check on you and see you naked. The clothes fit perfectly, and it was then that you decided they weren’t Peggy’s.

The idea that Steve found clothes that were perfectly in your size made your stomach churn.

He was waiting for you when you got out, and he reached for you as soon as you were near. One hand went to the back of your neck, holding you beside him while the other went to what you thought was the keypad. You watched in awe as he pressed his thumb against it, and the pad flashed green just before he reached to open the door.

“Buck and Sam are coming by later,” he told as he guided you down the stairs. “I don’t think I need to remind you not to do anything stupid, do I?”

You shook your head.

“Anyway, just in case…”

He stopped before the door of the basement. Apprehension filled you as he opened it and guided you in, his chest brushing your back as you walked. You walked down some stairs, stopping at another door. This one was sturdier and had a bar that fell across it. You watched as Steve lifted the bar and pushed you in.

You stumbled, tripping over your feet before straightening yourself. You could feel Steve behind you as you looked around, and your heart dropped. It was a room, furnished with a single bed, a toilet, and a sink. You swallowed in fear, taking a step back, recoiling when you bumped into him.

Steve wrapped his arm around you, lips at your ear.

“I don’t want to have to put you in here, but I will if you force me to. Is that understood?”

You gave him a shaky nod. His hand closed around your throat, and you gasped, reaching up to grab his arm as he lifted you, your toes grazing the floor.

“I want to hear you say it,” he whispered.

“I understand,” you shakily replied, and satisfied, he let you go.

He spun you around, one hand on your jaw as he tilted your head, lips brushing your cheek and then your ear.

“Be good for me…and I’ll be good to you,” he quietly told you.

He didn’t wait for a response before guiding you up the stairs. You reached the hallway again just as a knock sounded on the front door. He pulled you along, keeping you at his side as he went to answer it.

Sam and Bucky had grins on their faces and greetings on their lips when Steve opened the door. However, Bucky’s face fell when his eyes met yours. You took in the red marks on the side of his face, and you couldn’t keep the smug expression off of yours even if you tried. He let them in, hand sliding around your waist as he closed the door.

You flinched, and he tightened his arm around you. Bucky looked over his shoulder at you, lips curled into a cruel smirk.

“Like the new look?” he wondered, gesturing to his face.

You simply looked at him, and both Sam and Steve chuckled.

“Maybe if you weren’t slacking…” Sam’s words trailed off as they entered the kitchen, but Steve pushed you towards the living room.

He pressed his lips to your forehead before pushing you down onto the couch. You swallowed, watching as he joined Sam and Bucky in the kitchen. Sam’s eyes were on you, and he turned to Steve.

“She’s quiet,” you heard him say.

“No. She’s not quiet,” Steve replied, calculating eyes meeting yours before he ran them over you.

He smirked.

“She’s smart,” he argued.

He looked away, and so did you, eyes looking through the backdoor to roam over the lake. If only you could get to the lake. When the time was right…

Sam and Bucky didn’t stay for long. Steve had waved them goodbye with one arm securely around your waist. You watched them get back into the car, the police cruiser, and your stomach churned, still in disbelief that the supposed good guys were nothing but scum.

You wanted to know how they could be okay with what Steve was doing. You wanted to know how they justified it, and unable to keep it in, you asked him. He didn’t respond right away, instead heaving a sigh as he pressed one hand into the wall beside your head, caging you in.

“After Peggy, I went back to my…casual encounters…”

You frowned at how he worded it, and he chuckled at that.

“…not often like I did before, but just enough to satisfy me… They caught me one day…”

He smiled as if he were thinking back on a fond memory, and you were almost sorry you’d asked.

“They wanted in on it too.”

Your eyes widened as they met his gaze, and your lips parted as you registered what he was saying. He reached up to brush his thumb over your trembling lips, his own parting.

“Eventually Thor got roped in too. His brother Loki prefers to sit out on the festivities, but he doesn’t mind. I don’t think you’ve been properly introduced to them,” he added. “Loki is a lawyer, and Thor is a cop in the next county over. They come over from time to time. Usually for a game.”

Now you were positive that you were going to be sick, and Steve continued.

“Thor wasn’t exactly the most inconspicuous about it when he’s here…and the boss caught on one day. We’re the best cops in town though. We keep these people safe and crime is practically nonexistent, so… So long as we’re discreet, he looks the other way,” he told you.

You turned away from him, tears in your eyes. He pressed his lips to your cheek, inhaling.

“Do you see, now? You have no one to run to. No one will help you,” he whispered darkly, hand landing on your shoulder, digging in, the other trailing to cup your ass. “We run this town…”

He pressed a leg in between yours, and you pushed against him, but he was faster. He grabbed your wrists, slamming them against the wall as he forced his mouth on yours. You kicked at his legs, but it was hard to do when one of his separated yours.

He pulled you away from the wall, lips never parting from yours as he turned and forced you back. You stumbled and tripped over your feet, trying to put as much distance between you two as possible. When that didn’t work, you brought your knee up, and Steve pulled back with a grunt.

Slipping out of his arms, you ran towards the backdoor, but his hands in your hair stopped you. You screamed as your scalp protested his tight hold, and he yanked you back into his chest, one hand closing around your throat. His chest heaved against your back, harsh breaths in your ear.

“Remember what I said,” he whispered, deep voice threatening. “Be good for me…and I’ll be good to you…”

You hadn’t realized you were crying until he walked you forward towards the couch. Your face crumbled as he pushed you down, one hand sliding up the thin dress he’d given you to wear. His hand grazed your bare slit, and you cried harder.

As awful as Killian had been, he’d never forced himself on you. It was crazy to think that in all the years you’d experienced violence at his hand, none of it had ever been sexual. That was a line that he had never crossed.

Steve flipped you, and you immediately fought against him as he ripped at your dress. He caught your wrists, holding them away as he dipped down to wrap his lips around one breast, bud hardened from the cool air in the house. He moved his head to give the other the same attention, and you cried out, pushing against him.

He suddenly jerked your wrist, and you cried out, pain traveling down your arm. He looked up at you, eyes cold as both desire and anger warred within them.

“I will break both of them,” he harshly said, making you freeze.

You couldn’t swim across the lake with a broken wrist, let alone two. He let you go, hands hovering over your own for a while to make sure you would behave. Pleased, he swiftly undressed, and you looked away from him, eyes on the ceiling. He tsk’d, reaching for your chin to turn your head.

“Eyes on me,” he ordered.

Too afraid to defy him, you watched as he grabbed your ankles, spreading and lifting your legs as he moved closer. He was hard and throbbing, bigger than Killian was, and you shook beneath him. There was no warning, no teasing… Steve slid into you with one thrust.

Having been wholly unprepared, you yelped in pain, head falling back on the arm of the couch. He rested your legs on his shoulders, leaning over you as he forced your knees to your shoulders. All of your movement was restricted, and the only thing you could do was press your hands into his waist. A few tears escaped your eyes, and Steve kissed them away.

His breath was shaky, blond hair hanging into his forehead as he savored the feel of you wrapped around him. He rested his forearms on the arm of the couch, caging you in, and you felt incredibly hot being surrounded by him. His lips brushed the corner of your mouth before moving them down to your jaw, nipping at the skin there.

He slowly pulled his hips back until nothing but the tip of him remained inside of you. He was slow to thrust too, and you squirmed, nails digging into his waist. The position you were in didn’t allow for you to do anything other than lay there and take it. Steve gradually began to pick up his pace, and the couch trembled from the force of his thrusts.

You wanted to close your eyes so badly, but you were afraid of what he’d do if you did. His lips never stayed in one place, kissing every part of your face that they could. Occasionally, his hand would brush over your cheek or shoulder. Sometimes he’d reach down and flick his fingers over you. Unable to do anything, you had no choice but to accept the pleasure he was forcing on you.

His skin slapped against yours in the quiet house, and you whimpered as he rested his forehead against yours, blue eyes boring into your own. As quiet as you tried to be, he could see the pleasure on your face, and the corner of his lips curved upwards. He kissed you, slow and soft, and you hated it. His lips didn’t part from yours as his thrusts grew erratic and choppy.

Too many things were happening at once, it was too intense for you, and you turned your head. Steve snarled at that and fisted his hand in your hair, yanking your head towards him again. He kissed you harder this time, slamming into you as he did so. Tears streamed down your face as you felt your stomach tightening, toes curling while you clenched around him.

“That’s it,” he murmured into your mouth. “Come for me…”

You pressed your nails harder into his skin, trying to fight it off, but it was no use. Steve didn’t relent in his movements, and soon, you were coming around him. Your climax struck you like a punch, stomach aching as it tightened, core fluttering around Steve’s unyielding cock. You slapped your hands against him as he fucked you through it, tears in your eyes again.

“Be good for me,” he reminded you, and you shook your head.

You reached in between you to press your hands to his stomach, turning your head away. Steve’s breathing was harsh above you, chest heaving as he thrust into your soaking core.

“Steve,” you begged, pushing against him.

“You’ve got another in you, I know you do.”

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before he threw you head first into another, and your mind spun as a choked moan slipped out of your mouth. You couldn’t swallow it down even if you tried, and Steve groaned. One of your hands was on his chest, the other on his shoulder, but he wouldn’t budge. Your legs trembled, and you involuntarily closed them as you tried to stem the oversensitivity, inadvertently locking them around his neck.

“Steve... Steve, please,” you begged, out of breath.

His lips found yours again, and he growled into your mouth.

“One more,” he whispered. “Give me one more.”

You tried to duck your head, but he followed, lips brushing the corner of your mouth.

“Give me one more…”

Stars appeared behind your eyes as you came for a third time, choking his cock. Steve let out a low moan as you gripped him, the sound drawing out into a groan. You could feel the mess you were making, but Steve didn’t mind as he pressed kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your neck…

“Look how good you are for me. Such a good girl for me,” he mumbled, spilling into you.

You shuddered at the feel, and Steve fucked his cum into you, hissing. He sat up to move your legs off of him, and relief filled you as they fell limply around him. He pressed his chest against yours again, hands cupped underneath your thighs as he lazily moved within you.

“See how good I can make you feel…” he said, lips grazing yours. “…when you’re good for me.”

~

tags:  @xoxabs88xox  @darkficreposter   @mcudarklibrary @captainchrisstan @nickyl316h @buckybarnesplumwhore @harryspet @readermia @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @opheliadawnwalker3 @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21  @stargazingfangirl18   @lou-la-lou @izzfizzh @thatgirly81 @autty0314 @hinata7346 @lokislastlove @honorarytenenbaum @void-hoechlin  @autty0314​ 

[cilldaracailin]

Love of my Life

Hello my Tumblr lovelys,

Sorry for the day late in posting. Came home from work yesterday and was floored by a headache and exactly like Robyn, I never get them so just lay on the bed for evening. This hopefully will make up for it and answers the cliff hanger!

Suze xx

7

“When life gives you best friends, use them.”

Stripping out of his clothes, Taron left them in a pile in the bathroom on the floor. He turned on the shower and groaned a little as the pull made his shoulders itch. Reaching over his right shoulder with his left hand, he scratched his skin hard, wincing as it hurt a little, moving his hand to try and get all parts of his upper back that suddenly irritated him. Both hands over his shoulders, he scratched and rubbed, rolling his upper body to try and ease the horrible burn and prickling he felt.

He pulled his hands away and looking to his fingers wasn’t surprised to see a smear of blood on his right hand. When he went through security at the airport in Cardiff, the pot of after sun that Robyn had given him as well as the tube of cooling jar had been taken off him as both were more than what was allowed through airport security. He only had a carry-on case and completely forgot about the limit on liquids and gels. He pleaded with the staff to let him keep them, explaining why he needed them, even pulling the neck of his t-shirt away so they could see his red skin but it was of no use and both were confiscated from him.

It left him with nothing to rub into his heated skin and as the week progressed the heat turned to an itch, dry peeling skin which very quickly became uncomfortable. While he was on set, it didn’t bother him, his mind focused on work but in the evening, his shoulders ached once more but for a different reason. Water from his daily shower eased his dehydrated shoulders for a little while but when his skin was dry it just went back to itching like crazy and now it seemed, he had scratched himself so much, he was bleeding.

Stepping into the shower, he pulled his mind away from his throbbing shoulders and to Robyn, his whole face smiling. He loved getting to see her so often and initially was very worried about her sudden appearance on set yesterday, was now so delighted with her unexpected visit, especially after their talk last night and her sleeping well, knowing she had really come through a lot and turned to others for help, turned to him, just like he had asked her to do. To know that she was finally really and truly starting to trust him, just warmed his heart more than she already had and the fact that she was accepting more cuddles and kisses from him, well he had to turn the water to cold for a few minutes and think about something else for a while, concentrating on washing his hair, giving his body a very quick sudsy soap, letting the water wash the creamy white suds away, stepping out of the shower carefully.

With a towel around his waist, he looked in the mirror and wasn’t surprised to see the tiredness on his face. The success of the nights filming had been worth the longer shoot, getting that first difficult confrontation scene out of the way. He knew there were a lot more to come but having been through the first scripted assault, physically and verbally on set, for the others, though a lot more upsetting and disturbing, he had a better idea of where it was going to leave him emotionally afterwards. In a way having Robyn on set that weekend, had been a bit of a blessing because he had been distracted by helping her to think about how the scenes were going to affect him. Always shook by a violent scene, Taron knew how lucky he was with the support around him on set and with his family because they helped him so much but having Robyn there, just gave him a deep peace of mind.

Now with Robyn in the other room, he was so ready to sleep off his day or night rather, very much looking forward to a head scratch, though would still have loved a full body one. His lips lifted in a grin and his thoughts wandered once again. Still grinning, he gave his teeth a brush and ran his hand over the growing stubble on his jaw, his smile growing even more. Just knowing she was in the next room, made him giddy and definitely helped take his mind from filming. Heading into the bedroom, he took a pair of shorts from the dresser and after he had dried himself pulled them on. He was giving his hair a rub when he heard the knock on the door, calling to Robyn to come in. It was her voice, the clear and noticeable change in her accent as she said his name, that made him realise he was in trouble.

Looking over his shoulder as he stopped rubbing his hair, he quickly figured out what had made her look at him with a long deep frown on her face. Dropping his head to his chin, he held the smaller towel in his hand, wringing it around. He waited for her soft touch and barely felt it she ran the lightest of strokes over his right shoulder.

“Taron, what have you done?” Robyn very carefully placed her two hands on his shoulders, her thumbs cautiously circling his neck, dry, flaky and very sensitive skin under her hands, instead of the usual soft, silky and smooth surface of his back she was used to feeling.  “Why didn’t you use the cream I gave you?”

“It got taken off me at the airport.” He answered her quietly.

“Taron…”

“I know, I know. It’s a fucking useless excuse when I am sure Stephanie had something but she is so busy with all the make-up effects and we have all been so busy, I just didn’t want to bother anyone.”

Robyn didn’t answer him, the tip of her index finger running over where he had scratched himself so hard, he had broken the skin, a small smear of blood on his shoulder. She was desperate to really massage his skin but could see layers of his dry skin peeling away and knew it would do no good to rub his shoulders hard. “You are such an idiot, you know that. You and your secret keeping.”

Taron’s head dipped lower into his chest, dropping the towel by his feet. “Sorry.” He muttered.

“Sorry won’t help to fix this.” She said to him, looking to the tops of both his shoulders, seeing the same tender and raw crisp skin that was begging for something to ease its dryness. “Seems to be a bit of a pattern with you lately. The chest infection in Paris, the sunburn in Aber and now this? You are becoming a creature of habit which is starting to worry me especially when you…”

“I just don’t want to bother anyone over it. Someone has to help me do it.” Taron interrupted her.

“I am sure there are a quite a few volunteers who would happily rub some cream into your back Taron.”

“Everyone is so busy.”

“It would take Stephanie two minutes in the morning to do it for you and I don’t think she would mind.” He didn’t answer her but his whole body seemed to sink into itself. “Sorry, I know I am being a mammy again.” Robyn gave him a gentle hug from behind, feeling the roughness to his coarse and cracked skin on her cheek.

“No I get it Robyn.” Taron breathed deeply, wanting so bad to move, needing something to help ease the crawling he could feel on his skin but he kept still. “I am not making excuses but our days have been so hectic and when I get to set, we have a certain amount of time to get ready and then the whole day is spent filming and once home, I fall into the bed and it repeats again.”

Moving away from him, she shook her head. “I know I cannot lecture you about stuff because, well you know why, but for your work Taron, for you to be comfortable, you need to just ask for help. There are so many people here who will help you.” Her voice softened as she spoke. “I don’t like seeing you like this. I hate it.” She delicately ran the tips of her fingers from his left shoulder over to his right, hearing Taron’s little hiss when she hit a more sensitive spot. “Why put yourself through it.” His reply was muttered and Robyn didn’t ask him to say it again. Instead she continued to trace over his muscles, feeling him try to push back into her hands.

“Can you rub harder please? God it’s so fucking itchy.” Taron moved his shoulders under her hands, trying to get some sort of friction to ease the horrible feeling on his skin.

“Absolutely not.” Robyn said sternly to him, lifting her hands from him, the Welshman now turning around to look at her. “I do that with no cream, I will hurt you.”

“No you wouldn’t.” He insisted, lifting his own hands to scratch his skin but Robyn stopped him.

“No Taron.” She held tightly onto his hands. “You have already scratched yourself so hard you have made yourself bleed. You need more than an after sun now. You need a really good moisturising cream.”

“I don’t have any of that but I now have a second pair of hands that can really really scratch my back for me.” Taron said desperately.

“If I even try Taron, I will end up pulling all that dry skin off.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do because it will then be so very sore to touch.”

“Robyn please. It itches so much.”

“Yeah I know. That’s why you rub in the after sun.”

“Stupid airport people took it off me.” He said with a pout.

“Well that is their job and to be fair, I gave you the cream and didn’t think twice about the limit of gels and liquids that could go in your case.” She let go of his hands and ran hers up and down his arms. “You haven’t used anything?” She asked him, seeing him shake his head. “You did a good job of acting today when I asked you how your shoulders were. No wonder you kept avoiding my question though. Must have been hell the last few days with the itchiness.”

“Been pretty shit.”

His words didn’t make her smile and she rested her hands on his shoulders, Taron again trying to create some movement between her hands and his skin. “Ah ah. Don’t.” She scolded him.

“Just once, please.”

Despite her own mind telling her no, Robyn took a step closer to him and being so extra careful, ran her whole hand over each shoulder and down a bit before moving back up. She could feel the dry skin rolling with the heels of her hands but Taron had let his head fall to his chest, his eyes closed, and she thought he must have been feeling some sort of relief from her movements.

“Robyn…” He breathed. “Just once please.” The light caress was really doing nothing for him, actually making him ache more.

“Taron…”

He lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes begging her. “Please.”

“Once.” She agreed and lifting her hands so now her fingertips were on his skin and she dragged her hands slowly across his shoulders, changing direction a few times, feeling and hearing the breathe the man under her hands took. Very lightly, she then trailed her short nails over his skin, scratching him very carefully.

“Fuck yes that is good.” Having someone else scratch his back felt amazing and even though it was nowhere near as deep as he would have liked it, it still was wonderful. “Bit more?” He asked quietly as she worked on his neck.

“Nope. That’s it.” He didn’t meet her eyes, keeping his locked on his feet. “I don’t have anything that can help you Taron and if I keep scratching your back, it will hurt your skin. You need a cream of some sorts.” Robyn thought for a second. “Do you have any face moisturiser? Shaving balm?”

He lifted his head at her question and nodded. “I have a face moisturiser. Works as an after-shave balm too.”

“That just might work. Can I borrow it?”

“Yes.” He walked away from her and into the bathroom, picking up his black bottle of moisturiser from the counter, heading back to the bedroom. “Here you go.” He handed it over to her.

“Elemis? Really?” She asked reading the packaging. He shrugged back at her and Robyn just about rolled her eyes at him. “And you didn’t think to use this on your shoulders?”

His looked at her with a slightly confused look. “Well, no. It’s for my face.”

“Of course it is. Go and sit on the bed. I just want to use the bathroom really quick. Don’t scratch.” She said pointing her finger at him. “I will know if you have.”

The wait for Robyn to finish up in the bathroom seemed to take hours and Taron sat on the bed wriggling, waiting, being good and not touching his shoulders but it was incredibly hard when he had been so used to relieving the itch himself over the past few days. The bathroom door opened and she walked out with half smile on her face.

“What?” Taron asked her. “I didn’t do anything!”

“I know. You were good but is there any chance I could borrow some more clothes? Please?” She pulled at the grey jumper she was wearing. “For head scratching and cuddles, this hoodie is going to be much too warm.”

“Sure.” He stood up and routed through the drawer in the dresser, taking out a white t-shirt and grey pair of cotton shorts. “These ok?”

“They are just fine. Thank you.”

“That’s ok.” He moved to sit on the bed again. “You can have some of my moisturiser too.” He joked and turned to look at Robyn, his eyes opening wide as she stripped herself of his hoodie, leaving her in a white bra and her navy work trousers which sat quite low on her hips. He knew she had caught him staring but she didn’t say anything and as she stretched to pull his t-shirt on, he saw a glimpse of her tattoo, the silver and blue navel bar of one of her piercings and the scar from her appendix. Little things he had seen before but they still made his heart jump and his palms sweat too. When he saw her go open the button and zip of her trousers, he immediately turned his face away and didn’t move until he felt the bed dip around him.

“Thanks for the clothes. I will give these ones back.” Robyn had not missed how he had stared her way as she took his jumper off but avoided her completely as she changed into the shorts. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before and it really didn’t bother her that he looked but appreciated the bit of privacy he had given her as she pulled on his shorts, tightening them with the string to make sure they wouldn’t fall down. While she could have just gone into the bathroom to change, it was so much easier to slip out of her clothes there and then, saving time meaning she could get to help him quicker. She had left her clothes and shoes in a bundle on the floor and already felt much more comfortable in Taron’s, finding herself getting very used to wearing the Welshman’s clothes lately. “So let’s get this back soothed and less itchy.”

“Please.” Taron had made the bed while Robyn was in the bathroom and now moved so he could position himself on the bed with his legs pulled up this chest, grabbing a pillow to put on his knees so he could lean his head on it. “This ok for you?” He asked her. “I figured it was the best way to do it.”

“It perfect. Just like in London.” She picked up the cream from the bed, reading the label., just to make sure it was ok to use on his shoulders. “I am probably going to need to use most of this Taron.”

“I am ok with that. Anything to ease this itch.”

“You sure you didn’t do this on purpose so you could get another shoulder massage?”

“No, not at all. I didn’t even know you were coming to visit.”

“You need to start looking after yourself better, especially when you are working.” He turned his head around to look at her raising an eyebrow. “Yeah I know but still.” She pulled the lid off the bottle and pumped six squirts of cream into her right hand. “You have a lot more on then line compared to me.” It took him a few seconds to straighten his body up for her, Robyn gently poking him to make him turn. “I know it is wrong of me to lecture you after my day yesterday but I can and will. Your mam know about this?” She asked as she warmed the cream in her two hands.

“No and God please don’t tell her Robyn. She will actually fly over here to murder me if she found out.”

“I won’t breathe a word. A little TLC and a lot of cream and you will be fine but this time you actually will have to get someone to rub this in for you. This will only get worse if you don’t and that cracked skin will break and bleed.”

“I will, I promise. Shit yes, that feels good.” Taron relaxed fully into the pillow on his knees, his arms hanging by his sides as Robyn carefully placed her two hands on his shoulders, very tenderly using her thumbs to rub the base of his neck.

She could feel his skin soaking in the cream immediately and she hadn’t even started to move her hands yet, just working on his neck. Sliding her hands left and right, she knew she was going to have to pump out a lot more cream on to her hands before she really got into rubbing his shoulders. Ten blobs of cream on each hand this time, she slid half over his left shoulder, half over his right shoulder and then some at his neck. “Tell me if hurts you ok?”

“I will but it won’t.”

Bit by bit, Robyn could see the cream sinking into his desperately dry skin and while she knew he would have loved her to use her nails again, she stuck with the pads of her thumbs, making small circles on his shoulders and neck, peeling skin moving with her hands. It was a sign that the moisturiser was working and she didn’t hesitate to get some more. She made sure not to press too hard into him, keeping her movements quite light and easy. It wasn’t a massage for him to ease and soothe tight muscles but rather desperately needed relief which would take his itch and soreness away. She could feel his body drop some more as he relaxed further under her touch and it didn’t take too long for those appreciative sounds to come from deep within his chest. While she didn’t want to scratch him, after a few minutes of rubbing in the cream and his skin was now sleek and deeply saturated with his face moisturisers, she added her fingers with her thumbs, spending a few minutes just rubbing his neck and behind his ears. She then spent a few minutes on each shoulder, being very careful around his torn skin, worried the cream would sting him but she didn’t hear any complains so kept up her slow and steady pace. She was sure at some point she should have been slightly repulsed by how much of his dry skin was now in little pieces on his shoulders as the moisturiser did its job but she didn’t care in the least. It was going to be that way until his skin fully started to heal itself. Instead she pumped some more of the very expensive moisturiser out onto her hands and with a bit more weight under her fingertips, half dug into and half scratched his skin for a few seconds. She then placed her right hand on his right shoulder and only using her left hand, slid the heel of her palm around in circles, judging by his breathing and body moments on whether to increase the pressure or not.

“Jesus Robyn, you been learning some new massage technics for me?” Groaned Taron shifting the tiniest bit on the bed as Robyn dug deliciously into his left shoulder. Not only was she getting at his horribly itchy skin, but also his back, across his shoulder blade and it felt wonderful, even more so when she did the same to his right side.

Robyn grinned. “Nope not at all. You are just very easy to please when it comes to a massage.” She concentred on the right side of his shoulder for a few minutes, countering the same she had done for his left. She placed her hands either side of upper back and just used her thumbs to stoke across the edge of where his sunburn had been, giggling at the difference in colour of his shoulders and back, the slightly darker colour really suiting his skin.

“What are you laughing at?” While thoroughly enjoying the relief he was getting from his itchy skin and Robyn’s hands as they massaged him carefully, he hadn’t missed her chuckles.

“Tan lines.”

Taron’s body shook as he laughed. “Tan lines.” He repeated. “It’s a pretty obvious one. Thank fuck I don’t have a shirtless scene in this movie.”

“Thought you had some sort of a skin show in this movie?” Robyn asked him she ran her hand over the tops of shoulders, kneeling up so she could reach better, being extra careful as she went over his collar bones, making sure not to hurt him.

“Just my side.” He explained, lifting his head a bit so Robyn could get to the front of his neck.

“I am not going to be able to watch this movie am I?” She wondered, slowing her pace down a little.

“Hmm…” Taron answered through a light moan as her two thumbs moved back to his neck, slipping into his hair too. “It will probably be hard for you to be honest. My character does go through a pretty shit time.”

“Guess I will skip the premier then.” Robyn kept her thumbs on his neck as she spoke.

“Don’t worry too soon about that.” Taron dropped his head back onto the pillow on his knees. “Still a long time before the movie gets to that point.” His words drifted into another groan, then a yearning moan as Robyn had moved from his neck and now at his lower back pressed deeper and harder into his skin. “Fuck yes. Amazing. Jesus Robyn, please do that again.”

Wanting to the give the moisturiser a chance to seep into his skin, making sure it wasn’t all just on her own hands and knowing well what he liked when it came to having his back rubbed, while digging her thumbs into the curve of his spine, at the same time, Robyn used the heel of her hand to apply pressure to his back, making her way up and down. Though it was quite awkward for her, she still managed to find a way to move her hands from the waistband of his shorts and up towards his neck, one hand at a time, keeping the strokes long and light. His lower back as gorgeously soft and warm, and she repeated the upwards movements for a minute, then letting her eyes wander back up his back. Long streaks of white cream still needed to be rubbed in so she then concentrated on his shoulders, back and front, making sure to get his arms too. “I can already feel a difference rocketman. That’s some good moisturiser. Expensive too I am sure. Elemis? Definitely expensive.” There was a gorgeously silkiness to his skin now, though she could see still little areas that still needed some care, rolls of peeling skin begging to be pulled but she resisted the urge, knowing it would just pull a lot of his other skin and seeing as how there one patch on his left shoulder that was already scratched red raw, she didn’t want to find a reason to give him another one.

“Stephanie gave it to me. Because I have to shave every day, said it would help with any irritation.”

“Well it has done wonders for this dry skin. I can only imagine how good it has been for your face.”

Taron could feel Robyn slowing down the pace of her hands and as she rubbed his neck delicately, knew she was getting ready to stop. She had used different movements and strokes he had never felt from her before and while the itch on his shoulder had been considerable eased, now his lower back felt relief too though he wasn’t quite ready for her to stop. “Can I be really cheeky and ask you to go again?” He chanced.

“Again?” Robyn rested her hands on his shoulders, her thumbs still kneading his neck. “You do need to get some sleep but I will do one more round for you with the cream just because I want to be doubly sure that there is no chance of this drying out and cracking again.”

“Thank you. I owe you so much.”

Robyn shook her head as she filled her two hands with more of the white moisturiser and she dug a little deeper into his shoulders this time round. “Nope. You don’t owe me anything. As always you have already done enough for me over the last few hours. Penny called me when you were in the shower and talked me through a few things. I know I can turn to you and that others are there for me too. There are going to be good days and bad days and yesterday just happened to be a bad day but I worked through it and I guess time heals. Things are going to happen that will make some days harder but when I have good friends and people around me, it makes it easier. You have been a God send to me this weekend Taron and if me giving you a little massage helps me repay you, I will do it and many more.” Robyn continued to rub in the last of the cream as she spoke and once done, wrapped her arms in around his stomach so she could hug him, letting her cheek rest on his back. “Please don’t make me worry more about you than I already do, ok?” She asked tightening her grip around him. “And rub the God damn cream in too, right?”

His body moved as he laughed. “Yeah ok Robyn. I will.” He let his arms wrap around hers and felt completely at ease, finally itch free and very sleepy. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” She placed a light kiss on the back of his neck. “Right time for some sleep.” Taking her hands away from his, she waited for him to move and once he had climbed up towards the head board, she pulled the duvet down for him, Taron slipping his legs under. She then followed him but didn’t get under the duvet, staying on top, keeping close to him. Opening her right arm, she grinned when it was all he needed to lean into her, turning his body so he lay on his left side, his head on her shoulder. “You can lay on your stomach if you want. Might be better to let all that cream and hard work soak into your skin.” With a little nod, Taron repositioned himself, moving ever so slightly so he was on his stomach and his body was little more over hers, his left cheek still on her shoulder. “Please look after yourself.” She whispered into his slightly damp hair. “I can’t be here all the time for you.”

“Robyn…” Taron lifted his head and stared at her. “Really? I am this close to bringing you to the onset medic to get checked over.”

“I am…”

“You say fine, I am actually going to do it.”

“… Just a little run down.” She said to him. “Things will settle down for me.”

“You need to eat at proper times, sleep and rest too and go to Doctor Greene to get a proper check-up.”

Robyn placed her left hand on his cheek and guided his head back down to her shoulder. “So we both need a bit of a kick then.”

Chuckling, Taron cuddled a little more into her. “I worry about you just as much as you do about me.” He said through a yawn, his eyes closing as Robyn moved her hand from his cheek and into his hair. “No fair…” He murmured as she deeply scratched his scalp.

“Sleep.” She said to him.

“It’s so unfair that our body clocks are on opposites at the moment.” He lifted his head and looked at her through half closed eyes. “So little time together.”

She smiled at his effort to try and concentrate on her but she guided his head back down once more. “You are working and need to rest and sleep. Sleep. We will see each other later and even if you weren’t on night shoots you would still be working and we wouldn’t see each other and you know I love watching you sleep and doing this.” Robyn purposely dug her fingers harder into through his hair. “Now please sleep. I am gonna grab a nap too.”

“Ok.” He answered her, glad to hear her say she was going to get some sleep too. “Will you wake me at eight please? I haven’t set an alarm.”

“Your ride isn’t coming until ten.”

“Yeah but I have a few things I need to do before then so please?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks Robyn.”

Snuggling a little more into the warmth under him, Taron tucked his left arm in under himself and let his right rest just in front of his face. He was nice and cosy and warm and as she dragged her hand gently through his hair, he could feel himself relaxing completely against her and very quickly fell asleep.

Keeping her right hand slowly trailing through his hair, Robyn felt even more comforted by his weight against her, by his easy breathes and cute little sleepy sounds that came from his lips, the light snores that followed. He looked so small and almost vulnerable as he slept and while she knew she was stupidly overprotective of him, lately he was the very same way with her and she couldn’t be mad at him for wanting to make sure she was ok. Still getting used to having someone care that much about her, it was actually kind of nice to be that important to someone.

While she had wanted to have a nap, sleep evaded her and after nearly an hour of laying with Taron, still playing with his hair, she knew he was deeply asleep and she could move without waking him. She eased herself out from under him and carefully let his body down onto the pillow she had been laying down, Taron himself shifting in his sleep, adapting his own body in the bed. Giving herself a stretch, she walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, opening all the presses to find a glass so she could get herself a drink. Carrying it back to the couch, she sat down, moving right to the end of the couch so she could see in the bedroom door, keeping an eye on Taron as he slept. Picking up her phone, it was near eleven in the morning and she decided to give Claire a call.

Her best friend kept her talking for nearly an hour, wanting to make sure that she was ok after her day yesterday but also to tease her mercilessly about being with Taron again, even more so that she was once again wearing his clothes. Robyn could only grin as she pulled at some loose threads on the shorts and was still grinning when they finished their call.

Robyn knew Claire was right though. She couldn’t keep wearing Taron’s clothes for the whole weekend and really really needed some fresh underwear. Clicking into google maps, she panned the map out and could see that it was only a half hour walk to the city centre and looking to Taron as he slept, made a little plan in her head. Dropping the phone onto the couch, she quietly walked back into the bedroom and then the bathroom, carefully closing the door behind her. She knew when Taron was tired, he could sleep through anything so got the shower going and stripped out of his clothes, pulling her hair from the plait too and stepped into the gorgeously warm water. Having the only option of using Taron’s toiletries, she washed her hair and body and once wrapped in a towel, re-plaited her wet hair into two French braids, tying them off at the bottom together. Using his toothpaste and deodorant again, she put back on her underwear and Taron’s white t-shirt, opening the bedroom door to grab her work trousers and shoes, slipping into them too. She tucked the t-shirt into her navy smart trousers and routing through his wardrobe, pulled out a navy blue puffa type jacket with a hood. The weather was still quite miserable and for her walk, though the coat was a bit big, it was a perfect jacket to keep the rain off. Stopping at the bed, she gently kissed Taron’s temple and left the room.

Gathering up her purse and phone, Robyn paused for a second as she realised she was in a gated apartment block and had no notion of the code to get in. Cursing to herself, she stood in the centre of the sitting room with her hands on her hips. Spotting his keys on the coffee table, she knew at least she had a way to get back into the apartment itself but not the complex’s main gate.  She picked up his keys and looking at the plain white keyring on the set, she smiled. There, wrote on the piece of paper inside the keyring, was the code for the gate outside.

“Perfect.”

She had a route through the kitchen and found an old receipt for some take out and a pen and wrote Taron a note, just in case he woke up and she was still gone. She didn’t want him to worry any more about her and made it very clear that she wasn’t borrowing his boxers to wear for the whole weekend and needed her own and to call her if he wanted. She left the note on the coffee table and putting his keys and purse into the pocket of the coat, walked out of the apartment, heading for Belfast city.

First place she stopped was at a Primark to pick up some new clothes and then a Mark’s and Spencer’s for some underwear. She picked up a new red, blue and green checked shirt for Taron while she walked through the men’s section too, seeing a beautifully soft V-neck khaki cardigan which she thought he would like and bought it for him too. Once back in the busy city centre, her last stop was Boots where she bought a number of toiletries and had a really good search through the moisturisers, picking up three different varieties of CeraVe, reading each tub carefully, selecting a regular one, one for itch relief and a healing ointment too. After speaking to one of the sales assistants, she was satisfied that any of the three would instantly soothe Taron’s shoulders.

The bags in her hands were a little heavy and she was worried the falling drizzle was going to ruin the paper bags, but she started to make her way back towards the apartment, stopping in front of a Tesco as she walked, a sudden idea coming to her.

Now with four re-usable bags, and the rain falling a bit heavier, she quickly made her way back, typing in the code to the gate and taking the lift up to the eight floor. Stepping in the apartment, she held her breathe a little, waiting to hear footsteps, but the air was silent. Leaving all the bags on the kitchen counter, she made her way into the bedroom and Taron was still asleep, hugging the duvet close to him, still laying on his stomach, his face deeply buried into the pillow.

She changed into her new clothes, leaving her feet bare and walked back into the kitchen, now emptying the other bags, leaving the clothes she got for Taron on the couch, making sure to pull the price off first.

While she knew he was being fed and fed well by the catering on set, Robyn had brought some things to make him a sandwich to tie him over until his dinner later on that night but with her quick decision to come and see him, she came without his favourite thing and that were her cookies. Standing outside Tesco, she figured a good way to spend her time in the afternoon was making some cookies, not only for Taron, but for everyone on set. It was such an easy recipe and she could make a batch of nearly thirty in an hour so all she had to do was increase the ingredients and there would be cookies for everyone. Not only did she know that it would make Taron smile but it was a little gesture from her to everyone who had been so kind to her over since she arrived in Belfast.

She didn’t need a weighing scale or a hand mixer and thankfully there was a large enough mixing bowl for her to add all the ingredients too. She went through the self-service checkout because she needed an absurd amount of white chocolate and now as all the bars sat on the counter, she chuckled to herself. It wasn’t what she thought she was going to be doing twenty-four hours ago as she helped Beth but as always things seemed to have a way of working themselves out for her.

Right now, as Taron slept in the next room and she started to make cookies, she couldn’t have been happier. So glad her rash decision had worked out for the best in the end, she knew she couldn’t always run to him but right now, she was with him and making him cookies and that was something she was going to enjoy.

[ao3theskyisblue]

From the outside

Summary:

“You look like you could use a coffee.”

Kegan turned towards Officer Reyes, who was looking at him bemusedly, one arm leaning on the driver-side door and the other on the steering wheel, his fingers drumming on it rhythmically. He could also see the hint of concern in his gaze, no doubt seeing through his façade but also kindly didn’t ask questions Kegan wasn’t sure how to answer.

"Woke up late today."

Written for @911lonestarangstweek Day 2: Physical whump + “Does it hurt badly?” 

Just a heads up it’s OC-centric (outsider’s POV) 

Read on AO3

When Kegan woke up to complete silence, the light brighter than it should have been at 7am in the morning peeking in through the gap between his curtains, he should have known it was going to be a terrible day. There were no birds chirping, no neighbours yelling about broken lawn gnomes, nothing.

The quiet was always a cue for sudden disaster.

Fumbling for his phone on the bedside table, he lifted the screen only to fall off the bed with a loud thud and a string of curses at three realizations.

One: his snooze was a lie.

Two: he was going to be late on the last day of his trial week.

Three: he forgot to iron his uniform yesterday.

“Fuck me in the ear with a corn.” Kegan groaned, giving up on saving his duvet and instead shoving it in the general direction of the bed before sprinting to the bathroom. He shoved his toothbrush into his mouth, squeezing toothpaste on at the last second and hoping the brushes hopefully scraped across a few of his teeth.

He dampened his skin underneath a stream of cold water, but it wasn’t hardly enough for a towel to wipe off as he shimmied into his work clothes, slipping on his duty belt last. Grabbing a comb on his way out of the bathroom, he jumped the entirety of the stairs, miraculously without breaking a knee, and slid into the kitchen.

With his comb stuck in his curls.

His mother visibly startled, spinning around to look at him with eyes widened in shock, almost dropping the bowl of strawberries in her hand. Kegan snatched a few, ignoring his mother’s disapproving look before shoving them down his throat.  

“Shove them any harder and you’ll choke.” His mother says drily, placing the bowl onto the counter and Kegan works to swallow the three he managed to stuff in his mouth. He can feel the lumps slowly moving down his esophagus, the slight pain of the movement a nice distraction as he thought of all the excuses he could for why he would be showing up late today to the precinct.

Unfortunately, he knew who he would be shadowing today and lying to this man in particular twisted more guilt in his stomach than anyone else in the police department.

“Not the worst thing I’ve choked on.” Kegan shrugged, smiling at his mother innocently when she scrunched up her nose.

“Sorry I didn’t wake you, I thought you’d already left.” Kegan stilled at that, the smile on his face now a mere gesture of courtesy rather than truth as he looked away.

They both knew why she didn’t bother waking him up. He didn’t need to be studying to become a police officer to hear the blatant lie through his mother’s voice, and that phone call he happened to overhear a few days ago suddenly rang loudly in his ears.

Kegan didn’t bother with a response, instead heading out of the kitchen and towards the entranceway, grabbing his keys from the bowl by the door. He didn’t look up to know his mother was watching him, eyes piercing him like a hawk as he stood in uniform.

“I don’t know why you’re trying so hard to prove a point.”

The words came out quiet, as if just an absent thought that was accidentally said out loud, but Kegan looked up this time, eyes blazing with a ferocity that had his mother stepping back in response.

“I’m not doing this to prove anybody a point,” Kegan says lowly, anger prickling along his spine and making the hairs on his arms stand on end. “I’m doing it for me. You don’t need to understand, or support me. But say it to my face next time instead of behind my back. Stabbing me would hurt less.”

Kegan didn’t wait for his mother’s reaction before pulling the front door open roughly and slamming it shut behind him. The bright sun seemed to be taunting him with its brilliant presence, as if shining any brighter would overcloud the dark shadow that seemed to never stop looming over him ever since they packed their bags and left Venice.

It was going to be a terrible day.

 .

Two hours into his shift, and Kegan already wanted to drown himself in his bathtub while holding onto a plugged-in toaster.

Two fender benders that involved idiots and their screaming that probably left permanent scarring to his eardrums. A woman who thought her neighbours had gotten into a fight with all the banging on the walls until they arrived and saw things that almost made him grab the nearest bottle of sanitizer and scrub his eyes clean. Then there was the elderly man who thought someone was trying to break into his house only to find a woodpecker innocently drilling a hole on the side of his doorframe.

It couldn’t get any worse, could it?  

“You look like you could use a coffee.”

Kegan turned towards Officer Reyes, who was looking at him bemusedly, one arm leaning on the driver-side door and the other on the steering wheel, his fingers drumming on it rhythmically. He could also see the hint of concern in his gaze, no doubt seeing through his façade but also kindly didn’t ask questions Kegan wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Woke up late today. Didn’t have time to grab anything before we were called in.” Kegan sighed, not bothering with keeping his guard up. He’s shadowed Officer Reyes a few times during the trial week, and he was one of the few officers in Austin PD that he actually liked. One thing he’s learned from the first time he shadowed him was that the man had no time for bullshit. Emotions, including ones that told him to just punch straight through walls were valid as long as he talked about it.

Open communication and all that.

They were doing a routine patrol, eyes peeled and other senses alert for any calls that could come through the radio. So far, the calls had been mostly in other districts that already had their own patrols answering, and the next light was the indication they successfully drove one full loop. So, when Officer Reyes suddenly turned right when they were supposed to go straight, Kegan frowned.

“Uh, were we supposed to make that turn just now?” Kegan peered back, not like that could have done anything to change the direction they were driving but Officer Reyes just shook his head.

“There’s a café nearby.” At his skeptical look, the officer rolled his eyes. “The city will be fine if we take a five-minute break.” Officer Reyes says, making Kegan raise an eyebrow. Of the limited time they’ve spent time together, he never pegged him to be a complete rule-sticker, but this unexpected gesture still caught him off guard.

They stopped next to a fairly busy café, the store sign making him snort in disbelief as he got out of the cruiser, shutting the door behind him.

“Definitely not ominous.” Kegan says wryly, looking up at the vibrant ‘The Hideout Café – Seek Out Your Poison!’ sign above his head. There was a quiet chuckle beside him, and he turned to see Officer Reyes sporting a wide smile, amusement dancing across his features. He looked around the area and frowned when he saw a red minivan travelling suspiciously towards them.

“Hey, isn’t that car driving too fast?” Kegan moved to get a better look, frowning when the vehicle not only didn’t slow down, but instead seemed to be deliberately heading towards them.

He turned towards Reyes, about to ask what they should do in this situation but frowned when his eyes widened in horror.

His hand was already on his radio, but nothing could have prepared him for a shout, a hard shove, and the equivalence of his soul being knocked out of him.

And just like the day the cops showed up to his doorstep with bulletproof vests and guns raised in search of his father, his world stopped.

.

The individual granules of sand in an hourglass.

He remembered staring at them when he was younger, fascinated as the particles slowly trickled down with time. It was hypnotizing, but he would glance up occasionally to gaze at the clock hanging above the piano, watching the minuscule tilt of the hour-hand each time the minute-hand made its rotation.

It was a weird sensation, the brief moment where your life flashes by in old film. But just as quick as they came, they’re abruptly cut off as if given to him at the wrong time.

There were thoughts sluggishly trying to make sense in his mind, and Kegan wondered if memories could transcend the living and stay with the dead.

He winced against the sun’s rays, the crick in his back making itself known before he was assaulted by a cacophony of sound.

“-okay? Someone call 911!”

“They literally are 911-”

“I don’t think the other officer’s breathing.”

Kegan sat up abruptly at that, testing his fingers and toes and letting out a breath of relief when he felt them both. He couldn’t help but notice the red minivan speeding off, his training kicking in and automatically memorizing the license plate before it disappeared in the crowd.

“Are you alright, officer?”

Kegan turned his head towards the voice, seeing a barista leaning over him slightly, eyes wide with shock and concern. He opened his mouth to reply, before the entirety of his memories kicked back in.

Where was Officer Reyes?

Kegan scrambled up, staggering and clutching onto the barista’s shoulder when he reached out to steady him. His eyes darted around the crowded street, ignoring the phones and insistent chatter and focused on something a little way away from him.

No.

Stumbling forward, he forced his legs to move towards the man sprawled down on the sidewalk, one hand leaning down to feel for a pulse and the other reaching for his radio.

“This is 363-H-20. I need medics at Congress and 7th, officer down! Send out an APB for a red minivan with Texas licence plates Alpha-Charlie-Foxtrot-3875.” Kegan didn’t know how he hadn’t stuttered when his heart was currently beating outside of his chest, barely clinging onto the last moments of clarity.  He barely heard the affirmative through dispatch for both his requests, before leaning down to see if the man laying so still beneath him was still breathing.

He was, and his pulse was steady, but he wasn’t awake.

“Officer Reyes? Can you hear me?” Kegan pinched his earlobe, his instincts and training working on autopilot, and slapped the ground beside Officer Reyes’ ears a few times.

The man didn’t so much as stir.

Kegan made sure to consistently check his pulse and breathing, prodding his body gently for any injuries he might have missed, eyes flitting up every few seconds to watch for eye movement. He didn’t move the man, the paramedics would be the judge of that, and he couldn’t see anything else other than a nasty bruise starting to form just above his lower back.

“How is he?”

Kegan barely spared the barista, who was still crouching beside him for some reason, a look as he shook his head.

“I don’t-”

“Rossi?”

Kegan’s whirled his head, letting out a choked sound of relief when he saw Officer Reyes blinking blearily at him, looking beyond confused. There was a 7-second delay before he seemed to remember what had happened, and Kegan didn’t hesitate to hold him still when he tried to get up.

“Are you okay? Did you get hit?” Officer Reyes asked, and Kegan let out a sound of disbelief, hearing the barista beside him scoff incredulously. That sound almost validated everything he was thinking at the moment, and absently noted to buy the barista a drink for their service.

“Officer Reyes, was it? You were just thrown in the air like a sack of potatoes when that idiot driver decided the sidewalk would be the perfect place to take his new wheels for a spin,” The barista said, and Kegan glanced at the name card that read ‘Lawrence.’ Kegan startled when Lawrence turned towards him, a kind but worried smile still present on his lips. “If you hadn’t pushed this one out of the way and yelled that warning, things could have gone a lot worse.”

Kegan bit back a sharp retort on how it was already a worse case scenario because someone got hurt, but his mother had always told him to bite his tongue when emotions were running on fumes, and he knew nothing would come from yelling at a barista for something out of his control.

“Well, at least I can skip the paperwork.” Kegan narrowed his eyes, sending the other officer a dirty look.

“Oh, you’re doing all the paperwork. I’m even giving you mine, seeing as you just stripped at least five years off my lifespan.” Kegan glowered, and Reyes had the sheer audacity to laugh weakly. “Can you wiggle your toes?” He sighed in relief when he saw the slight movement, though still kept the officer as still as possible for the paramedics to confirm.

The sound of distant sirens grew closer, and Kegan immediately spun around from the noise when he heard the officer groan.

“What? What’s wrong? Where’s the pain?” Kegan asked, ready to dive in at a moment’s notice but Reyes was focused on something past him.

“I’m about the get the lecture of a lifetime. From all three of them.” The man muttered, and Kegan looked back to see the ambulance parked by the sidewalk, three figures hopping out. One of the female paramedics tossed something to the male, who caught it without even looking at her. They were making their way towards them, and Kegan frowned when the male paramedic suddenly froze, eyes widening at their figures on the ground. He could have sworn he didn’t blink, but one second the paramedic was by the ambulance, the next he was crouching down next to Officer Reyes, stethoscope ready and already checking ABCs.

“This isn’t your usual area.” Officer Reyes says in lieu of a greeting, and Kegan unconsciously stepped back to give them some space to work and to avoid the dark aura encircling the male paramedic who looked up, unimpressed.

“I could say the same for you.” There were some medical words exchanged then, and Kegan heard what he guessed to be the Captain spell out a series of tests they’ll do at the hospital. He couldn’t help but feel another wave of anxiety when the C collar got strapped on – that’s usually a bad thing, right? The male paramedic barely spared him a glance before shining a flashlight in Officer Reyes’ eyes.

“Name.”

“Really?”

“Answer the question.”

“Carlos Reyes.”

He stood to the side, watching as the Captain cautiously lifted Reyes’ uniform and frown at the bruising, prodding it skillfully and gauging the officer’s reaction. He could see the male paramedic flinch as if just the sight of the injury caused him insurmountable pain.

“D-does it, um, does it hurt badly?”

Four pairs of eyes turned to look at him, and Kegan really wished he had heeded his mother’s advice to just keep on sticking his foot in his mouth.

“No,” the male paramedic started sarcastically, a TK Strand that Kegan could make out now stitched on his uniform, “He’s just fine and dandy being run over by a four thousand pound moving brick. He can finally check it off his to-do list for the day.” TK scowled, his movements more aggressive than usual when swinging the stethoscope around his neck again, but Kegan could still see how the anger seemed to fade when he worked with the others to prod the officer for other injuries.

He heard a few snickers from the other two female paramedics that were quickly covered by badly hidden coughs, and really wished Mother Nature would offer him a hole to climb into.

Officer Reyes, who was still a little out of it but thankfully very much alive seemed to be on the verge of laughter himself. “TK, stop scaring him. I’m fine.”

Kegan winced, feeling the change in atmosphere before TK’s eyes even narrowed, and if he wasn’t quite frozen in place he would definitely have stumbled a few steps back from avoiding the icy chill that filled the air around them.

“You and I must have very different definitions of ‘fine.’” TK muttered. Kegan felt chills running down his spine at the deadly glint when those eyes passed over him for a millisecond.

It suddenly sent him back to when he was five years old, when he had brought a stray puppy home and learned how to fear a human being for the first time. His father had looked at the puppy like it was the worst thing created by mother nature, before taking it away and he never saw the little golden retriever again.

Now he knew why.

But he also attributed green eyes to his grandmother, who was an entire ball of warmth.

Who knew green eyes that had always felt so comforting whenever his grandmother smothered him with hugs and kisses when he was younger could feel like daggers that could skewer you alive on another person?

“I’m sorry we never got your coffee.” Kegan looked down at Officer Reyes, who was looking up at him apologetically, and Kegan didn’t know whether he should cry or punch something at how unreasonably nice he was being. They weren’t close, but Kegan respected him immensely, and he could tell from the way TK’s shoulders hadn’t relaxed from their tense position that he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“I’ve already received the wake-up call of the century. Coffee’s on me next time.” Kegan says lightly, before his eyes widened in horror as TK turned his stormy gaze on him. “Not that I want you to get hit by another car! I’ll gladly take the coffee over any car. And I’ll stop talking. Like right now.”

Yeah, he really needed that bath with the toaster. Maybe he’ll even add in his mother’s hair straightener just to seal the deal.

“Why don’t you sit down?” The Captain, Vega, says kindly, eyes shining with exasperated amusement as she shoots TK a look, and Kegan looks at her, puzzled.

“Why?”

“We need to check you over, too.” The other female paramedic, Gillian, says. She’s looking at him kindly, but doesn’t leave TK’s side as they make sure Carlos is stable for transport.

“But I’m fine? He’s the one who lost consciousness for a few minutes.” Kegan frowns in confusion, and sees TK whirl his head back towards the officer, looking like he wanted to throttle the man.

“And you didn’t think that was vital information?”

“It wasn’t that long!”

“Any length of time being unwillingly unconscious is important, Carlos.”

There was a moment of unspoken words between them and an exchanged look with Captain Vega before Gillian started checking for head injuries. There weren’t any visual signs of trauma, but Kegan has seen enough medical dramas to always expect the impossible.

“And to add on to earlier, no one who gets manhandled by this guy ever ends up fine. The shock may be hiding injuries you can’t feel right now.” TK looked up at him, but not before giving Officer Reyes another glare when he makes a noise in protest.

“I’m not that bad!”

“Tell that to your kitchen counter. And the bedroom wall.” The smallest of smiles lights up TK’s face, and Kegan watches in awe as Officer Reyes grins unabashedly at that.

He didn’t even know the man had any other expressions other than polite smiles and stoic everythings.

“You were on scene for all of them, care to share the grievance?” The soft look they exchanged made something in Kegan’s brain click in place, and he felt himself smiling despite current events.

In the end, they had been lucky. Had Officer Reyes not pushed him away when he did, the accident would have ended up with a black bag and cops knocking on his mother’s doorstep, when the last thing he said to her wasn’t ‘I love you.’ He would be walking away with minor aches, and Officer Reyes-

Had closed his eyes.

He wasn’t the only one that noticed, judging by how TK’s face drained in colour, eyes wide as he tried to get Officer Reyes to open his eyes.

“Carlos? Hey, stay awake – Carlos?! Cap!!” TK immediately reached his fingers to check Carlos’ pulse, and Kegan watched with bated breath as medical jargon sprout out from all three of them, with Captain Vega swearing under her breath when Gillian mentioned something about chest movement.

“We need to get him to a hospital, now.” The other two paramedics immediately lifted Officer Reyes on the stretcher, running towards the ambulance and Kegan could only watch, horrified when TK yelled that they had lost a pulse.

He had been conscious earlier.

He had been talking.

And now he could be –

“Go.”

Kegan startled, turning his head to see Lawrence gently guiding him towards the ambulance.

“I’ll keep an eye on your police car. You’re in no state to drive, and I think you’ll feel better if you go with them.” Lawrence urged, and Kegan didn’t know what else to say but a quick ‘thank you,’ receiving a shoulder squeeze in response before jumping into the back of the ambulance, the paramedics not even batting an eye as they sped off.

They must have gotten Officer Reyes’ pulse back in the time between his hesitancy and the nudge from Lawrence, so Kegan tried his best to focus on the weak but steady rhythm of the heart monitor as TK and Captain Vega worked to make sure his heart kept on beating.

He’s never had a problem being a shadow on the sidelines, and ever since his father’s arrest he’s been walking on eggshells around everything and everyone. Which is why he sat, stock still, and didn’t say a word as Captain Vega quietly murmured how Carlos was stable for now, the words doing nothing to rid the fear still present in TK’s eyes.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off the officer laying on the stretcher before them, and Kegan wasn’t sure he had even blinked. Their hands were tightly linked together, and there was a wet shine in his eyes.

“Come back to me.” He heard him whisper, and his own heart bled with guilt and despair as TK bowed his head, seeing his frame shaking as he clung onto a hand that just wouldn’t squeeze back.  

He should have been the one on the stretcher.

Why didn’t they take him instead?

It wasn’t fair.

.

“I’m sorry.”

The hospital waiting area was mostly empty, and he hadn’t allowed himself a moment to breathe until he heard the doctors give TK and the rest of the 126 who had all arrived one by one to make one big family the all clear. That had been minutes? hours? ago, and Kegan still couldn’t get past the roaring in his ears, the tightness of his chest as they all waited for the officer to wake up.

He was staying overnight for observation, and he faintly remembered being checked over himself in the blurred haze of everything. He couldn’t for the life of him remember who did it, or what questions he was asked, just that he would be walking away with minor bruising and some superficial scratches.

Officer Reyes on the other hand…

He had heard through the grapevine that they had caught the guy, and it was a brief moment of satisfaction that didn’t do much other than give him the relief that he was behind bars instead of behind another wheel of a car.

He looked up for the first time since entering those hospital doors. TK was staring at him with an unreadable expression in his gaze before Kegan could make out the small upward twitch of his lips.

“You’ve done nothing to apologize for,” TK says quietly, wincing a little. “In fact, I’m the one that’s sorry for my attitude back at the scene. I was a little – I was worried.” TK lifted a hand to run through his hair, before giving him a more genuine smile.

Ah, he was starting to see why Officer Reyes always seemed to melt underneath that gaze. The paramedic’s eyes were a couple degrees warmer than they had been earlier, the irises reflecting pools of green in the bright ceiling lights.

“He’s a good cop, and an even better person. He did what he thought was right, and it wasn’t your fault. You were just doing your job. And you were the reason they caught the guy, they found him not long after trying to cross state lines.” Kegan swallowed down the lump in his throat at that, the subtle acknowledgement warming him up inside.

Moving half-way across the globe to escape the scars his father left on their family was one thing, enrolling into the police academy and painstakingly working his ass off to show that he belonged was another. Ever since the arrest, being the son of a notorious serial killer had become his identity. Suddenly, his childhood dreams of becoming an officer of the law meant nothing – all washed down the drain by his father’s blood-soaked hands.

He would never understand why he deserved to live when the people his father killed did not. Years of pondering potential what if’s and self-loathing slowly ate him up inside, and he knew his mother only wanted what was best for him. He didn’t enroll in the police academy to prove anyone a point, to show that their family still had some sort of light worth saving but because he wanted to help. Because he wanted to be better, and he wanted to work for it.

But that didn’t mean the world wasn’t cruel in other ways.

Being labeled as the ‘grim-reaper’ certainly was one, where people assumed that anyone who came into contact with him were automatically doomed to die. It didn’t help that his own father had used it to his advantage, and it was something he would probably never forgive himself for.

And today was just shot to hell with the almost-death of his superior driving him over the edge. He had almost been indirectly responsible for another death of a good man, so when the doctors had given them good news, Kegan almost sobbed in relief. He’s been on the receiving end of looks of anguish, of dismay, of anger and frustration.

Seeing someone look at him with hope and reassurance was new, and hearing words that weren’t laced with malice and false approval made the heavy load of the day lighten a little.

It hadn’t been a good day. And tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed for anyone.

But as Kegan accepted the gentle pat on the shoulder and a friendly smile, he knew that through the dark times, he will find the light.

He wasn’t there yet, and he didn’t know if he would find it at all – but he would try.

And that would have to be enough.

He calls out to TK again, and watches as the man pauses in his steps, turning to look at him curiously.

“So, how long have you two been married?” He asks, a playful grin stretching across his lips, laughing when he sees the paramedic’s cheeks go through the different shades of red in a fascinating colour show. His eyes narrow, but his lips are twitching in amusement, and he waves for Kegan to follow him to Carlos’ recovery room. He’s about to protest, not wanting to intrude, but TK just rolls his eyes and grabs his arm gently to tug him along.

“So, you’re the cheeky new rookie Carlos mentioned,” TK muses, and Kegan raises an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know I was such a hot topic of conversation,” Kegan responds, not liking how TK’s grin suddenly turns wicked.

“Oh, he told me all about that time you knocked an entire crate of fresh tomatoes onto a perp who tried to escape. The street vendor wasn’t very happy, now was she?” TK winks, and Kegan feels the tables turn, his cheeks lighting on fire at the memory.

No, she certainly was not happy. Getting chased by an elderly woman who spent hours arranging her food stall while holding a broom above her head through the entire marketplace was not something he wanted to re-live. Ever.

“And, to answer your question, we’re not married,” TK continues, his smile turning a touch soft, and Kegan makes a sound of disbelief.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

He doesn’t dodge the shove he receives at that, and as they close the rest of the distance to Carlos’ room, Kegan smiles.

He could get used to Austin.

[flowesona]

The Moon - Yandere! Jungkook x reader

The Tarot Series

“We can’t ignore reality, (Y/N).” Yoongi sighed, rubbing her back as she sobbed into his chest. “He’s dangerous. Even if the claims haven’t gone to court, you need to stay away from him.”

“He isn’t like that.” The young woman sniffed loudly. “Kookie wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Shhh, it’s okay.” With his newly acquired police badge, Yoongi had felt a sudden protectiveness over (Y/N) and her fragile demanour. “Would you like to stay at my apartment tonight? It’s a lot safer.”

She nodded, curling her hand into his with a shy smile as he led her to his car. Yoongi was safe, he could be trusted. Even if her heart was calling out for Jungkook, and he could hear her loud and clear.

(Y/N) settled into the car seat, resting her head in the hopes that she could fall asleep and erase the past twelve hours, from Jungkook arriving home with a split lip and black eye, to Yoongi arriving that morning to show her the police report being filed against her boyfriend and offering her sanctuary.

However, her wishes of a peaceful nap were interrupted by her phone vibrating in her back pocket, and when she peeled her eyes open to see who was calling her she saw her beloved boyfriend’s name in bold print accompanied by the cute heart emoji he’d insisted she added to his contact.

She glanced to the right, seeing Yoongi was still focused on the road, and shakily pressed the accept call on her phone holding it up to her ear. She knew her friend would disapprove, but she wanted to hear from Jungkook, to be told that everything would be fine.

“(Y/N)? Where are you?” The volume on her phone was way too loud, and Jungkook’s voice was heard by Yoongi.

“(Y/N). Hang up the phone.” He said, eyes still on the road but his grip on the steering wheel getting tighter until his knuckles were white. “He’s only trying to get you back. He’s dangerous.”

(Y/N) couldn’t find it in herself to respond, not to her boyfriend on the phone who was continuing to try and converse with her nor to Yoongi.

Thus, Yoongi left his right hand on the steering wheel and used his left to snatch the phone out of her hand and throw it out of the window, hearing the satisfying crunch as it hit the tarmac.

“We can get you a replacement. But for now, not giving him contact with you is of the utmost importance.”

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

As Yoongi lay awake that night, all that she could think about was Jungkook. Maybe he had been wrong? Jungkook loved (Y/N), that fact could not be disputed. And surely he should trust his friend’s intuition about her own boyfriend?

His stomach growled loudly, having missed out on dinner due to the sick feeling in his stomach. Thus, he crawled out of bed and plodded to the kitchen to find a packet of instant ramen. 

What he found, rather than the snack that was calling his name, was a shadowy figure prying open his window with a crowbar. Upon this sight Yoongi stumbled back in surprise, reaching out to find something he could protect himself with.

The intruder immediately looked up, alarmed. And even in the darkness of the night, his moon-lit features were unmistakable. 

“Jungkook?”

He was frozen in place. But at that point, there was no doubting it was him breaking into the house.

“Min Yoongi.” He swung his body fully through the window, closing it behind him. 

“Get out of my house!” He snapped. “If you’re not back out of that window in the next ten seconds, it is within my jurisdiction as a police officer to arrest you for breaking and entering.”

“We have some serious business. I’m not going anywhere.” Gone was the sweet boy that Yoongi had first been introduced to by (Y/N). This man was intimidating, cold and had a thirst for blood. No doubt, Jungkook was the man who’d assaulted her brother.

“You are not welcome in this home. If you’d like to have a discussion I can take you down to the station first thing tomorrow morning.” Yoongi hissed, keeping his voice low in fear of waking (Y/N) up. 

Jungkook didn’t reply, simply twisting the crowbar around in his hands with a frustrated gaze.

“Where is (Y/N)? She’s not at home. And I’m almost certain that’s due to your intervention.” The young man finally spoke up. “You were with her when I called her, and I want to know where you’ve taken her.”

“You’re a threat to her safety. She’s in a safe place.” Yoongi, in the dark, had managed to find his belt lying haphazardly on the sofa and was drawing the pepper spray and handcuffs out as smoothly and silently as possible.

“Tell me.” Jungkook replied simply. “Tell me, or I will beat your damn brains in Min Yoongi. Don’t test me.”

“Threatening a police officer? Not a smart move, Jeon. Drop your weapon and leave, and we can forget all this.” Yonngi’s heart was pounding, with the fear of what could happen to him, or even (Y/N).

“I don’t think so.” Before Jungkook could attack, he found himself wrestled to the ground, with Yoongi handcuffing his wrists and whispering his rights into his ear.

Jungkook was practically seething, trying to buck Yoongi off of him but finding himself completely immobilised. 

“I can’t wait to see you rot in jail for all you’ve done.” Yoongi said triumphantly, breathing heavily. “We’ll put you under a restraining order so you’ll never see (Y/N) again, you crazy bastard.” 

His words were enough to spark a new rush of energy from Jungkook, adrenaline from the thought of being separated from his beloved (Y/N).

He managed to push Yoongi away and struggle to his feet, thankful that his hands had mistakenly been cuffed in front of him by the newbie cop.

Finding the glass jug on the counter he smashed it into Yoongi’s face, resulting in him letting out a cry of pain and falling back clutching his now bleeding features.

All Jungkook could see was red, the desire to hurt Yoongi for his gross intervention into (Y/N)’s life blinding him to everything else.

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

Unbeknownst to the intruder, (Y/N) had woken up when she heard Yoongi’s cry of pain and had immediately gotten out of bed and found her phone. God knows if Yoongi couldn;t handle them, (Y/N) had no chance, but first she had to assess the situation. She found her way through the dark hallway to the kitchen door, trying to qualm her fears as she heard more struggling. With no other option, she peeked around the doorway for a second.

Yoongi was on his knees, clutching at his neck. Someone was behind him, using the handcuffs on their wrists to apply more and more pressure. (Y/N) unknowingly let out a gasp, causing both men to notice their audience. With his attacker now in shock, Yoongi quickly removed the cuffs from around his neck and rolled out of the way.

“(Y/N)...?” She could never forget that voice. “(Y/N), baby, I missed you.”

“Jungkook? What are you doing here? And why… why were you just about to kill Yoongi?” 

For a few moments there was silence, intermittent with Yoongi’s heavy breathing as he tried to get his breath back. Jungkook just stared at (Y/N) like a deer caught in headlights, as she tried to process the situation.

“Now do you believe me (Y/N)? Look at him, he’s off his rocker!” Yoongi spat, still breathing heavily.

“If anything he’s the crazy one!” Jungkook shot back, eyes wide to convince (Y/N). “Look, he’s trying to tear us apart! He just doesn’t understand us, he thinks he knows better when ultimately he wants you all to himself.”

The back and forth was making (Y/N)’s head spin. She wanted more than anything to believe in Jungkook with all her heart. He’d been her world for nearly a year. The soft face of the boy who’d taken her out to the lakes to watch the sunset or spent nights curled up with her in bed when the heater broke could not be that of a psychopath surely. Yet she trusted Yoongi, perhaps even more than her own heart.

“Jungkook… you want me to come with you, right?” He cocked his head, a happy grin on his face.

“Come here baby, I’ve missed you so much.” He gestured to her with his cuffed hands. “Let’s go home.”

“But all of my stuff is here! Will you help me pack?” (Y/N) whined, subtly making eye contact with Yoongi as she spoke. Jungkook blushed and nodded.

“Just let me do one last thing.” He delivered a swift kick to Yoongi’s side, the officer doubling over in pain. Jungkook found the keys to his handcuffs and dropped his former bondage besides the cop mockingly before taking her hand. “Lead the way baby. Let’s hurry.”

(Y/N) tried as hard as she could to not give off any signs of what she was planning to do. Jungkook luckily hadn’t caught on to her. He was still running on adrenaline, all of his hope renewed by (Y/N) taking his hand.

“If you start packing your clothes-” As soon as Jungkook’s back was turned, (Y/N) knew she had one chance. To make things right.

She stealthily sought out the thick hardcover book. Whilst the woes of a middle aged woman and her alcoholism hadn’t made for an easy read, the novel was going to prove itself very useful to her. Without hesitation she brought it down on the back on his neck.

Jungkook crashed to the floor, but (Y/N) didn’t hesitate for a second in straddling the obsessive freak and calling out for Yoongi.

It hurt. So much to see the tears dripping down Jungkook’s beautiful face as he was once again restrained, the officer now taking no chances and tightening the cuffs until they dug into his skin. Even with Jungkook’s crestfallen disposition threatening to guilt (Y/N), she wasn’t ready to give in to him. She knew who he truly was.

[blackenedwhite97]

Trials ( An Erasermic x Reader Medieval AU Ch.3-4)

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

https://blackenedwhite97.tumblr.com/post/643722830321696769/trials-an-erasermic-x-reader-medieval-au

CHAPTER 3

Mid Summer

The man who died that night had been the son of some noble in a city in the south, otherwise, the mayor may have overlooked the allegations against you in light of the attempted assault and robbery. Supposedly, it was a family with much more money than the humble village that sat at the foot of the hill your cottage had perched on. It was in ashes now, your cottage. The medicine and herbs, gone, what little money you had had gone to the "church", or rather the clergyman's pockets. And the only precious item you owned; a necklace of your mothers hung in a stall across the street with a tag that read 'Cursed. Previously Owned by Witch'. It had yet to be touched. Even the stall owner was too paranoid to take it in at night, instead, he'd just leave it pinned to the board and cover the stall with a sheet.

It was the dead of night by the time the bars at your back had begun to feel properly cool against your skin. They were chilled enough that you could slouch back and not have to worry about needing to muster up enough strength to throw yourself forward anytime soon. You'd spent much of the first day in the cage curled forward into yourself, trying to hide from the eyes of the villagers who walked by to gawk at a witch. You had been stripped of the blood-soaked clothes you wore when you were arrested for fear that you could use the blood as a component in one of your spells. You were sure that there was also the added satisfaction of the amplified humiliation you suffered on that first day. After that you grew uncaring about your body being on display as it began to peel away under the sun, you were in too much pain and too weak to suffer anymore through humiliation.

You closed your eyes and rested your head between two bars, this was about as comfortable as you could get. It was almost peaceful at night, there were no townsfolk out due to fear of the monsters of the night and the small shy animals would come and scavenge what they could from the streets. You could hear the little pitter-pattering of bunny hops in the grass behind the hanging cages and the occasional clink of scaled bird feet pattering atop your cell. There was a creek that ran through the eastern side of town that you could only hear when no one was around to make so much noise. You could hear everything, which is why it came as so much of a shock to you when a gruff voice sounded in front of you.

You tensed and opened your eyes. Shouta stood in front of your cage, his hair tied back and the beginnings of first shaped bruises marked his cheekbone and jaw. His hands were raw and one of his knuckles had a deep gash, likely from a poorly parried sword. You'd bandaged up a few adventurers in your time as a healer and had heard every story that could be told about how a wound could be secured, from gryphon talons to great bear mauls. It was almost always, in fact, humans cutting each other up. He was calm, it was hard to tell in the dim wavering light of the small torch he held but he looked as though he might be smiling. It was a friendly smile; one you might throw on when reunited with an acquaintance.

"D'you think you can hold this?" he asked, holding the torch out toward you.

You nodded and tried to straighten up, the muscles in your back screaming for you to stay still. You winced and held your breath but persisted in your struggle. Shouta reached his hand through the bars, palm open in offering. Lifting your arms was easier than sitting up and with the help of his unexpectedly gentle grip you were pulled forward. You held onto the bars in front of you with one arm and took the torch with the other, holding it above one of two dangling padlocks that held you in your cell.

"Thanks." Shouta huffed as he crouched and fished around in one of the many pouches stung upon his belt. He withdrew a roll of leather-wrapped with a cord; an ornamental crest stamped into the leather's surface. He unwound the cord and let the leather unroll to expose a litany of small metal tools organized into pockets.

"Try not to light my hair on fire, please." He side-eyed the torch next to his head and guided it a little farther from his with a single finger, you could have sworn there was a small grin pulling at his lips as he settled back into his work. Dick. You were weak but you weren't that weak. Not yet anyway. You let the torch fall a little farther back, not quite far enough away so that he couldn't see the lock but far enough that it was noticeably dimmer.

"Ah, the witch has a sense of humor." Shouta grumbled as he sorted through his roll of tools. He settled on a pair of small metal utensils, one was hooked at the end and the other was an L shape.

"Alleged." You corrected, leaning your forehead against the bars to watch him work at the lock.

Shouta just hummed at that, his mind now clearly focused on his task. You were feeling more and more paranoid as time went on, any stirring of bushes or rustling of leaves made you tense up and try to maneuver yourself into a position to scout out the possible onlooker. Instead, you found scavenging rabbits, lively birds, and one slightly limping street cat. You'd have fed her if she had wandered up to your cottage, and perhaps tried to mend the kink in her tail.

With a click and a small groan from the lock, Shouta unhooked the first of two locks, stood, and began his work on the lock at the top of the door. You maneuvered the torch so that it wasn't directly below his hands and wafting uncomfortable amounts of heat directly at his hands, but off to the side. It wasn't until you heard the far-off rumbling of a cart that you realized that you and Shouta had been alone now for a remarkable amount of time, nearly ten minutes now, without and patrolling law-keepers appearing. In fact, you hadn't seen any for a little over an hour, which was an unprecedented gap in time for the town square to be left unsupervised. As you watched Shouta's hands work you eyed the deep gash on his knuckle and what you could see of the bruises forming on his face and it suddenly occurred to you where he'd gotten his injuries from.

The cart grew nearer and nearer, the point that you were waiting for it to come around the corner at any moment. You'd alerted Shouta of the cart a minute ago and he seemed bothered by it, yet his confidence did little to calm your growing anxiety. The sound of the wheels on the dirt road ground on, getting louder and louder until it all of a sudden stopped short of the square. There was a muffled pair of voices and panicked horses then nothing. The town grew eerily quiet and you once again could hear the stream on the other side of the market.

You peered across the square towards where the cart sounded as if it were coming from and through the dark street you saw a figure walking with reins in hand of two horses on either side of them. As the figure grew nearer you stirred in your cage and tried to get Shouta's attention without being too loud, he could still flee without being seen at this point. Shouta paused and looked over his shoulder, sniffed, and turned back to the lock unphased. You looked on with horror as the figure approached until the moonlight crested over the tall buildings and you saw familiar long flaxen hair, slightly mussed and swaying in the breeze.

There was a click, and a gentle metallic groan, and Shouta's hand flew out to hold the cage door, which you were leaning on, from swinging open. You could cry in that moment, even without the cage door open you felt free. You looked down at the padlocks, rusted and covered in the dusty road. You had beat them, in a manner of speaking. Shouta had. Shouta Had just freed you.

You looked up at him, tears in your eyes. His face was really bruised now, his stray hair danced in the torchlight wildly and his clothes were covered in the dry dusty dirt from the road but still, he looked divine to you. He was, in a more literal sense than God had ever been, your savior. He looked at you blankly for a moment, then as if remembering himself, blinked and threw on a more pleasant expression. He reached for the torch and you handed it to him through the bars.

"How are we getting along?" Hizashi strolled right up to the pair of you. He too looked rougher than when you first met, though his face bore no bruising nor did his gloved hands.

"Hold." Shouta instructed, handing the torch back to Hizashi.

"It's gone well, I take it." Hizashi took the torch and eyed the locks on the ground. "And you, how are you?"

Hizashi looked up at you, his eyes soft and the small smile on his lips comforting. Hizashi, as you were learning, was the more genuinely expressive of the two. Not that Shouta had ever been cold to you, his gestures just didn't reach his eyes the same way.

You reached for the bars next to you and pulled yourself to them so that when Shouta opened the cage door you wouldn't spill out. He slowly opened the cage door until he was sure you were going to stay put then he let it swing fully open. He held out his hands and you took them gingerly unsure of how much you were going to be able to do yourself in terms of getting out. Shouta shook his head and let go of your hands and reached into the cage, one arm pulling your legs out gently and supporting them under the knee before hooding his other arm around your back and lifting you out with ease. Despite how gentle he was trying to be the contact directly on your blistered peeling skin was so painful you let out a shaking breath, trying to dull the pain with breathing techniques you often told your patients to use when you were stitching something or removing debris from a wound. It didn't help and now you understood why they gave you such crossed expressions when you said it.

There was a part of you that was happy to be out of the cage and grateful beyond description to these men for saving you but there was another part of you, growing by the second, that was staunchly aware that you didn't really know them.

"I can stand." No, you couldn't. "I just need a mo-"

"It's alright." Shouta hummed, adjusting you in his arms so you were leaning more heavily into him. "I've got you, now."

You looked up at him, at his bruised face, and saw a kindness that reached his eyes. The tears that were welled up in your eyes finally spilled and you turned into his chest and let them fall, water staining his tunic.

CHAPTER 4

You were gripping onto Shouta's waist for your life as he rode full force northward, the horse's thundering footsteps filling your ears. You had been riding for a long while, the poor horse beneath you was close to being spent and you could tell as its speed faltered. Shouta kept riding until the horse quite indignantly refused to go any faster than a walk. You'd wound up in a thin strip of marshland with the occasional deeply hunched whomping willow and cluster of waterlogged bushes. The sky was darkening, the blue of the afternoon had long since given way to the golds and oranges of sunsets and was now fading into a deep purple. Your legs were numb, ghost vibrations of horse hoof beats still rolling through your hips and lower back.

Shouta stopped under an especially distorted tree with roots so large and gnarled that you could curl up into the curve of one and disappear if you so pleased. He jumped down, starting a pace back and forth through the murky ground before realizing you were having trouble dismounting on your own. Without a word he grabbed you by the waist none too gently and lifted you down, placing you on your feet in the mud with a squelch. You wrinkled your nose at the sound and the feeling of the bud sinking into the boots Hizashi had gone back into town to get you a day or so ago.

Shouta, wordlessly unloaded the travel bags and the bedroll from the horse and tossed them into a pile against the thick roots of the tree. Everything about the way Shouta was moving put you on edge, sure you'd seen him somewhat annoyed or frustrated over the last five days but you'd only ever seen a glimmer of emotion compared to this. This scale of energy was comparable to Hizashi's jittering nature, his movements were sporadic and uncoordinated. Eventually, having spent way too long on a buckle, Shouta growled in frustration and kicked a long dead stump, shattering the fragile wood. He paused and took a deep breath before turning to you.

"Sorry." He muttered. It was the first thing he had said since "we have to go".

"S'okay." you muttered back, settling down on one of the tree roots. You patted a space beside you and looked back at him. "Sit?"

Shouta huffed and looked at where your hand was patting for a moment but shook his head. He paced again, muttering the occasion word to himself. "You know how to start a fire?"

"Y-yeah." You stammered.

"Good. I'll be back." Shota started walking away, back towards the south from whence you came. You thought about calling after him but thought better of it. Perhaps if it were Hizashi you would have but there was something in the way that Shouta had been furiously trying to stay calm that worried you, that scared you. You watched him fade into the distance until all of a sudden he was gone, disappearing with the blink of an eye into the tree line.

It took you a while to find dry enough wood to make a reasonably sized fire for warmth but you got one going on a small patch of dry land where you and the exhausted horse settled down. The horse tucked its legs under itself and went straight to sleep while you decided to take a look around once the feeling had fully returned to your legs. The marshland was vast to the north but to the south, east and west you could see trees. All sorts of plants poked out of the water nearby, many of which were familiar to you. There were small clusters of pink and white flowers on tall thin stems for pain, thick green gel-filled leaves for burns, and dark green aromatic leaves for disinfecting and cleaning wounds. You collected bunches of each and wandered back to the fire, settling in and spending the rest of your waking hours cleaning bugs from your finds.

You awoke to the smell of cooking meat and the sizzle of moisture hitting the fire. Your eyes flew open and just as panic gave way to alertness your eyes met Shouta's across the now sizable flames and you relaxed.

"Sorry." he gruffed. He was calmer now. "I would have woken you when I got back but you looked like you needed the rest."

"When did you get back?" You yawned looking up at the pale pink sky: the sun was just beginning to rise.

"An hour or so ago." he shrugged. Shouta's eyes were encircled by deep hollows and his shoulders hung lower than usual. It was as easy to see that the man hadn't slept at all through the night as it was to read the words 'I'm exhausted' scrawled across a page.

"You can sleep if you want, I can stay up and keep an eye out." You offered, unfurling from your bedroll as the day's heat already began to swell. If you had the courage you would have asked about Hizashi but there was something unsettling about the calm that Shouta was experiencing right now, as if it were the type of calm that warranted a storm.

"It's alright," Shouta grumbled "we'll eat then head out. I know where to find Hizashi."

"R-really? Is he alright?" you straighten right up at that news. As much as the events of yesterday had provided you with an inescapable and harsh reminder of reality, you had grown fond of the men whose charge you found yourself in.

"I-" Shouta sighed and clenched his fist. "I believe so, he didn't indicate if he was injured."

"He didn't indicate- wait, how did you hear from him?"

"We have a system when we travel, if we get separated we go to the nearest crossroads with a signpost and leave instructions on how to find wherever we're held up." Shouta explained, holding a folded piece of paper to you.

You reached for it stopping to look at his hand, poorly wrapped in torn fabric no doubt from a cloak or tunic.

"Your hand-"

"S'fine." Shouta waved you off.

"Let me tend to it." You looked up, into his eyes. "I'm the one who-"

"I started you, it's fine. It's good that you were prepared." Shouta looked away, awkwardly

"Shouta," you huffed "I'm cleaning it and bandaging it properly before you die from flesh eating disease!"

Shouta smirked, it was a painfully small twitch of the lips, but you saw it. "That's dramatic."

"I've been a healer since I was fourteen," You scold him "I know wounds."

"Fine." He sniffed, still holding out the letter. You took it, at the same time gently grabbing hold of his hand.

It was somewhat cryptic, but you could tell Hizashi had written it in a hurry because it didn't take you very long to pick up on the pattern. The last line of instructions ordered you only to approach the barn he was hiding away in at night so as to not alert the farmer. You looked up at Shouta and shook your head.

"What?" He asked, wrinkling his nose as he looked at his hand as you unwrapped his haphazard bandage job.

"He said to wait until nightfall." You raised your eyebrow at him.

"how-" he looked away "and?"

"And you were just going to ignore that order, weren't you?"

Shouta gritted his teeth, he was fighting some kind of expression off. He didn't want to betray how he was truly feeling but you could gather it all on your own.

"He's precious to you." you smiled, you hoped it was a genuine, kind smile. One that made him feel warm and understood. You really hoped it didn't look cruel or taunting, that would be the opposite of what you were going for. You reached for the bag of supplies he'd left next to your bedroll. There you grabbed a water skin and bandages and began blotting away at his hand with clean water.

Shouta looked up at you, surprise clear as day across his face. Bright red roses bloomed in his cheeks and like a child being teased he stammered and looked down at his inturned feet.

"W-well, I- I guess." he grumbled, trying to fold his arms but failing to do so as you held his hand in place. Taking a deep breath he looked up at you and sighed. "Yes, yes he is. I-I love him."

There was a moment where the two of you looked at each other and a silent exchange happened. One in which you suddenly understood the extent of Hizashi and Shouta's relationship, and that their love runs deeper than that of friends or even brothers in arms. You see a yearning in Shouta that is not only for love but to be with the one he loves, a yearning so strong and absolute that he must already have found that person. You keep smiling at Shouta, this time you're sure it's kind and warm because he can't help but smile back. It's a small sheepish smile and it's plagued with uncertainty and embarrassment, but nonetheless, it's there. In this moment of silent exchange, you feel as though Shouta understands where you stand, just as you were beginning to understand yourself. You, whether you liked it or not, were with them now.

"Right." Shouta broke the silence and plucked a skewer of meat from around the fire. "H-here."

"Still raw." You smirked. "I'm almost done."

You and Shouta sat in silence, him fidgeting with a small folded up map from one of the pouches on his belt.

"We're not going until nightfall, Shouta." You chided him as you watched him stubbornly trying to trace out a path with his free hand.

He stopped and groaned childishly. "What if he's hurt?"

"If he were really hurt he'd have told you knowing full well that there would be hell to pay once you found him if he hadn't." You reasoned, trying to crush some of that dark green leaf between your fingers to make a topical liquid.

This time Shouta's groan was less of an annoyed groan and more of an accepting grunt. He knew you were right and he also knew that Hizashi was capable of taking care of himself, he just needed to keep reminding himself of that. Shouta flipped the map over a leaned back fully against the tree.

"I'm going to go mad sitting here all day." He grumbled to himself.

You smiled to yourself as you rubbed the crushed edge of the leaf against his wound, so he wasn't so stubborn after all. You suddenly remembered your herbs you'd been sorting through before sleeping and found most of them in a cluster next to your bedroll.

"Here," you grinned to yourself, humored "you can pick the bugs out of these. It'll keep your hands busy."

Shouta almost grinned, you saw that tug at the corner of his mouth, as brief as it was. He breathed out heavily through his nose as if he was trying to keep his grumpy exterior together. He didn't make a move towards the pile. "Oh no, Shouta. I'm serious, make yourself useful."

He gave you an incredulous look. "I broke you out of jail."

"That was three days ago, so far today you've been doing an awful lot of moaning and groaning." You nodded towards the herbs. "Get cleaning."

Shouta didn't move and for a moment and you were sure that you had prodded the bear too much, but sure enough, he reached forward and examined the pile. "I need fresh water."

"Hmm," you thought back to last night "I spotted a fresh pool not too far north. The water looked clearer than the marshes."

Shouta nodded and stared into space for a moment before coming back to himself. "I need to bathe."

You glanced down at yourself and found more dirt under your fingernails than you'd have preferred and felt a wholly encompassing feeling of filth. You also needed to bathe, desperately. "That was the happiest idea you've had yet."

Shouta grinned despite himself, instead of embracing the moment of reprieve Shouta embraced the oldest tradition of manhood, and quite literally ran away from his feelings. As soon as you tied off the bandages he stood and started gathering the herbs, and rolling up the bedroll. The whole time he refused to give you the satisfaction of eye contact.

***

The pool of fresh water was nestled in between a wall of trees to the east and a dense, tall line of bushes. It couldn't have been more than twenty feet across but clear enough to see to the bottom. At first you were worried that it wasn't quite deep enough to be able to properly bathe oneself but Shouta seemed unconcerned as he started pulling off layers of clothes. You hadn't realized how many layers he worre until he was taking them off, he wore thick cotton tunic, a thick leather padded vest and under that a fraying undershirt. He'd originally appeared more stocky to you, especially next to Hizashi, but without the heavy leather vest he was much leaner than you thought. He wasn't quite as lithe as hizashi but what muscle he did have and toned and compact.

You were staring at him, not really registering that fact that you were currently watching someone get underess. He paused after he had shed his top layer and boots, and stared back at you. He didn't look particularly bashful nor as if he was suffering some great intrusion but instead, somewhat smug. It took you a few seconds of eye contact to realize what you were doing and a hot blush rose in your cheeks and ears and you looked away guiltily.

"Sorry!" you squeaked. "I- I uh- shit, sorry! You, just do your thing. I'm going to...go pick some plants."

"You already did that." He chuckled, that the bastard was laughing under his breath. You could hear it. "You don't need to bathe?"

"No." you tried to look anywhere but towards him as you heard the rustling of river stone under his feet and the sound of heavy leather trousers hitting the ground. You tried not to squeak at the image that barged so rudely across your mind. "I mean yes, but we can...take turns."

"You need to change those bandages and clean your burns." Shouta sighed. "You won't be able to do it on your own."

You blushed deeply and looked everywhere but at him. The sky, as it turns out, a lovely shade of blue.

"How about this," he started, as if he were proposing a simple solution to a situation where neither of you were naked nor stripping. "I get in, turn my back and you get in. Turn your back, I help you with the places you can't reach. I'll even close my eyes, on Hizashi's honor. Then you leave first and get dressed and I'll keep my back turned until you say otherwise."

"Hizashi's honor? What about your own?" you asked, fighting a grin.

"He's much more trustworthy." Shouta countered.

" Is your back turned now?" You asked, hugging yourself close even though you were fully clothed.

"I- n-no, you're still dressed." he sighed.

"Well," you huffed "go get in and stay facing away!"

"Of course, ma'am." Was he mocking you? He was mocking you. His mood had sweetened but at what cost? You groaned to yourself and listened for the subtle sounds of the water splashing around his legs and the sharp intake of breath at the cool water washed up against his bare skin. "I'm in."

"Right." you snuck a glance backwards at him, sure enough, he was waist deep in the water, bareback, covered in scars, facing you. You found yourself staring again as he dunked his head under water and wet his long waves. In the early morning sun you were able to see the shadows, the definition of the muscles cast across his back, and the dimples that sat towards the bottom of his spine. You would have blushed if he had wandered to your cottage for healing before all of this began, maybe even made him a meal and asked him to stay overnight for "observation" if he was courteous enough. This time, without turning to look at you, he cleared his throat loudly. You couldn't be sure that he wasn't just clearing his throat in an uncharacteristically loud manner or if he had somehow caught you staring.

The ferocity of the blush in your cheeks heightened. You had been so diligent to make sure he couldn't sneak a peek at your body and you were just as bad as you were acting like he was. You turned away again and took a deep breath before starting to unfasten your tunic from the front. It fell away onto the rounded stones beneath your feet and you felt the fresh air hit what parts of your skin hadn't been bandaged. You'd forgotten about the bandages. They were tied in the back and you're clumsy fingers couldn't quite feel their way around the knot enough to loosen them.

"Shit." you muttered to yourself, your fingers pulling at any side of the knotted fabric you could grasp. You were grumbling to yourself. "Oh come on."

"Something wrong?" Shouta called back to you over his shoulder.

"Hizashi is too good at tying knots is what's wrong!" you huffed. "I can't get the bandaged undone."

"You're still covered up, right?" Shouta asked.

"Um, yeah."

You heard the water around him swirling and splashing as he trudged back toward you through the water. You instinctively looked back and he stopped suddenly crouching so his bottom half was submerged in the water, his hands flying below his waist to assist in the guardian of his genitals. You let out another embarrassing squeak and turned away, at this point your whole body must have been pink with blush.

"What are you doing?" you yelped, dropping your face into your hands.

"I'm going to help with the bandages, stay- just look away." He huffed and stood, water pouring off of him.

It was quite the anticipatory period, waiting for him to rise from the water and rough his hands to graze your shoulder and they reached for your bandages. You tried to tense your body and avoid the shiver that ran through you with every brush and prod of his fingers. Not only was this an inappropriate situation to find yourself feeling this sort of attraction but he was a taken man! A man, who was with another man, and was very likely not even remotely likely to reciprocate your attraction. Oh, stop it you child. You scolded yourself.

After a few seconds of fumbling with the knots Shouta's wet hands freed you and he stepped back to let you unravel the bandages. You had assumed he'd stalked back into the water as per your agreement and were frightful surprised when you turned around to find him only partially submerged and staring at you. At meeting eyes with you he looked away abruptly, the somewhat serene look on his face was replaced by something akin to guilt and he dove under the water.

He sure was feeling dramatic today.

You waited, arms pulled close to your chest until he emerged from the water ten feet back and facing away from you. He didn't make a move to turn around or peak for the thirty or seconds that you watched him so you carefully slid down your trousers, and the small clothes underneath and scurried to the water's edge. He'd been acting like it was no big deal but you could feel how cold the water rarely was and you inched in. It felt good on you aching feet and even your strained shins but when it got to your thighs the raw flasking skin registered the coldness of the water as pain. You breathed through it until your body got used to the temperature inch by inch until you were waist deep and able to crouch down into the water to wash your torso.

The whole time Shouta remained strictly facing away from you running his finger through his knotted hair. You crouched down, the cool water washing over your skin, a mixture of therapeutic coolness and sharp pain hit you. You sucked in a sharp breath, which you guessed must have sounded worse than it was because Shouta glanced back at you with a worried look. He quickly righted himself, looking up at the sky uncomfortably.

"You okay?" He asked, swallowing hard.

"Mm hm." you hummed. You tried to prod at some of the dead sin on your back and hissed. You had been hoping to clean your skin and shed off the dried out layer. "Just... sensitive."

"Do- do you need my help, yet?' he asked, eyes still trained on the cloudless sky.

"Uh yeah." you bent your knees a bit, making sure the bottom half of your body was fully submerged and crossed your arms over your chest, keeping you back facing him.

"Okay." you heard him turning around and gliding towards you in a full swim. He even kept the sounds he made splashing around in the water to a minimum. His hands were gentle when they found your skin, cool water gently being cupped and poured over your shoulders and back. He spent a while rubbing soothing circles into your skin, gently loosening the flaking skin that wasn't going to heal back. Your skin felt sensitive and raw but it was also in a strange sense immensely soothing.

You closed your eyes and let the early morning sun warm your face. You were so focused on the chittering of birds in the trees and very welcomed warmth of the sun in contrast to the cool water, that you didn't notice when Shouta's hands snaked farther forward. It started at your hips, then up your side and down the tops of your arms. You only notice the moment his hands brushed the side of your chest, dangerously close to your breasts. That blush that you'd felt slowly fading away lit up again, and despite the water you suddenly felt warm.

"T-thank you, Shouta." You cleared your throat. "I think I can finish up."

"R-right." Shouta's hands hesitantly pulled away and you felt him hover for a moment, you were sure he was staring. You hadn't taken a moment until just now to wonder what you back really looked like, was it pink and raw, covered in white flaking skin or had it faded a little by now and started to return to a more normal skin tone. He glided away and you heard him resurface a few feet away.

"Eyes to the sky." He announced.

You dropped your arms and began to try and rub the dry skiing from your arms and chest, and break down the thick layer of grease in your hair. It felt wonderful to be cleaning yourself. You hadn't realized how horrendous being filthy had made you feel until you were clean once again. You had been sitting in your own filth for three days in a cage, and then stewing away in bandages and the same clothes for three more. You ran your fingers across your sensitive skin and although there was a bit of tenderness you decided that the bandages were no longer necessary. You headed back to shore, part of you wanting to get dressed and unexposed as soon as possible and the other half wanting to splash around in the water forever. There's something freeing about bathing, always has been. It was relaxing and soothing to not only your body but your mind.

But you thought of Shouta who must have been pruning away in the water and dragged yourself from the pool. You stumbled across one of the larger rocks that your clothes had been strewn across, your wet feet sliding easily down the rounded surfaces. You didn't quite lose your balance but you landed hard and uneven on your foot, a sharp, tering sort of pain running up your ankle and side of your shin. You pulled away from the rock to see a sharp corner from a recent break now painted in trace amounts of your blood.

You groaned loudly, not necessarily because of the pain but because of the frustration. Nothing, literally nothing, could be easy for you? Even getting dressed had to cause you injury.

"You okay?" Shouta was still in the middle of the pool, looking up at the sky.

"Y-yeah." You grumbled, shoving your newly scraped up leg into your trousers. You waited until you had your tunic over your shoulders and ready to lace up before calling out to Shouta and telling him that it was alright to get out of the water. He nearly leaped from the water, enthusiastically trudging towards the shoreline. He was on land and barbarically shaking himself dry like a dog in no time, his long wavy hair whipping to and fro. Freezing droplets splattered across your back and neck, seeping into your tunic and reminding you just how cold the water had been.

Within seconds of getting to shore, Shouta hopped around the river rock for a bit then came striding past you, trousers on but undone, boots on but untied, and the top half of his clothing in hand. You hurriedly pulled your tunic closed and tried lacing it up without revealing your bust. You couldn't help but let your eyes trail after him as he walked, his trousers were dangerously low, lower back dimples showing along with his very defined v-shaped musculature when he eventually turned around to face you.

"Let me see your leg." he jutted his chin towards your scrapped up shin.

"Shouta, it's just a scratch." you waved him off.

"Flesh eating disease." He stated, quoting you.

"I'll keep it clean." You grinned. "Unlike you, Mr. Uses- dirty-cloth-as-bandages."

"Come on, we have to be at the farm by nightfall." Shouta rolled his eyes, as he pulled his undershirt on over his head and shoved it into his pants. He started to disappear behind the line of bushes that separates the pool from the marshland that held your camp.

[countessofbiscuit]

Suppressive Fire

(Sev/Scorch, E, 3.9k words)

Two bros, chillin' on a top bunk no feet apart 'cause they're vode. . . .

Fleet Support, Ord Mantell, barrack block 7 Alpha, six standard weeks after Geonosis

She’d be built like a tank. That was Requirement the First.

She’d be humanoid, or near enough. Her arms would number ... four. Yes, four arms, each of them doing something clever. Two to open my ass, two to pinch my nipples, her long tongue going to crazy town on my cock, burning off my pubes with her caustic breath—

Sergeant Draka. The near-human-tank was Sergeant Draka, sure as day.

Scorch grabbed this realization with one firm hand and tugged.

Her species was shab-if-I-know: some unhappy hybrid who’d washed up on the far edge of the Outer Rim and been scraped into one of those fringe clans that never removed their helmets. Her folks developed a reputation for ritualized kidnapping that didn’t sit right with Jango. He’d ripped Draka’s helmet off in a duel, apparently, and spending ten years training the spawn of her enemy was the price she’d agreed to pay to regain her honor. All those kids and nowhere to run: a bitter form of torture for both parties. Her trainees were an insular, silent bunch with a tendency to tactically acquire your shit when you weren’t looking, but they got the job done.

Scorch had first seen Draka at a parade for the prime minister when he was three. He’d never forgotten it: she had fangs and yellow eyes and ears that twitched at the tips like they were catching your current of fear. No wonder they’d encouraged her to keep a lid on.

Then Scorch was six and change and he’d stumbled upon her in a hallway. She’d had a cadet upside down, smoking him good for something. “What are you gawping at, Six-Two?” she’d snarled, her generous chest heaving, three spare arms tensing in his direction. “Shift it. Unless you want your balls torn off next.”

Scorch had been a little scared and a lot turned on.

Sergeant Vau didn’t have to use many words to put the fear of Fett under your skin. He was a conservative man. Sergeant Draka regarded a shebs-chewing as the highest form of oratory and her calling in life. Whenever Scorch stood downwind of her in the combat hall, he could feel his eyebrows being singed off a second time.

Sweating a little, Scorch’s core tensed as this fantasy tightened vividly in his holographic mind.

She puts two hands around my cock, one hand on my nipple, one hand clawing under my balls—

Scorch flipped her on her back.

She uses all four arms to spread her trunky legs, hairy as a man’s, wide in invitation—

“Knock it off,” barked Sev.

She was gone. In her place was the knowledge that his brother was clued in to what Scorch was doing on the bottom bunk and determined to make it stop.

But the pressure under Scorch’s balls held firm and his erection stood fast. Sev was an oaf with shit timing. There was a reason they gave Scorch the fiddly wires and det controls. He stretched his fingers and reset his grip. “Not happening, vod.”

“Do you have to be so loud about it?”

“Loud?” Had he said something? Lost control of his breathing?

“Yes. Loud. Like you’re slugging a hamm sandwich.”

Scorch frowned. “Have you ever had a hamm sandwich?”

“I don’t want one now.”

There was some improvement to technique needed there: Scorch was always open to feedback—to the challenge of reducing the marginal noise of a wank. “You embarrassed?” he found himself asking, strokes resuming. Less hamm-fistedly. His orgasm had slumped a little and he'd have to tenderly call it back up.

“I’m embarrassed for you,” Sev said.

Scorch closed his eyes, picturing something ...

Sergeant Draka was back, and now she was holding him and Sev upside down. The arrival of RC-1207 into the sim wasn’t throwing Scorch off. In fact, it was encouraging. Exciting. He even leaked a little at the idea. What was a commando without his squad? Chafed, apparently. He should’ve brought Sev into the game two nights ago, after they’d been rudely pulled from stasis in preparation for some op known only to Boss.

Scorch didn’t remember decant. But Sergeant Vau, who'd wasted no time rocking up to his watery exile when Jango had put out the word, said they’d been ugly, annoyed, and ornery. The nursery techs had given them mock, miniature Deeces to keep their fussy hands and mouths occupied.

Coming out of stasis had to be worse—they were issued Deeces again, but they weren’t left alone to soothe themselves to sleep with weapons. Now their waking moments belonged entirely to some Jedi named Zey. They’d been forced to run a gamut of proprioception and endurance tests, cleaned their spanking new Katarn and cleaned it once more for luck on Boss’s orders, and told to familiarize themselves with their upgraded HUD systems.

Scorch had and he'd found it wanting: no pre-loaded heavy-isotope bangers or high-definition tailhead reference holos. Did he have to do everything himself in this shabla army?

After submitting to all this with only mild complaint—Fixer had sworn in full sentences—the op order was still not forthcoming. Classic hurry up and fekkin' wait. Wait for instructions they didn’t even need. Coordinates, intel support, and a broad objective would have sufficed for a commando tasking: top brass still had a lot to learn. It had left Delta with more downtime than they liked and had left Scorch wanting nothing more than to take care of that perennial need in his groin. And each time, he had to get a little more creative.

“What’re you thinking ‘bout, Sev?” he teased, poking the boundaries of this sim. Longnecks hated that: it’s why they let the commandos have off-world field trips to forsaken places where they couldn’t peel back the corners without dying. “Something profane? Something a little non-regulation?”

“The shab is wrong with you.”

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking ... ” The opportunity for candor—without Fixer on the opposite bunk telling him to pipe down or Boss around to make it happen—was interesting. And as far as Scorch knew, this slap-dash prefab of a support base didn’t have surveillance bugs like their dorms on Kamino. The range and assault course here weren't even specced for lasers; they had to waste live rounds on discs and be honest about getting locked onto. Not likely.

With nothing left to hide, Scorch rolled away from the wall and relaxed onto his back, his cock stiff and spry. He pulled his hood up and over his wet glans and back down again, as far as he could take it, skin smarting nicely at the stretch. He went on, “I’m thinking about Sergeant Draka.”

“Stop,” Sev said.

“Her thick thighs in my face—”

“Stop.”

Scorch spat in his hand and throttled his shaft. “Biting our balls … ” Okay, maybe that was a little weird. But if Fixer’s quick work of the base pyrowall in the anxious hours before chill-down was anything to go by, weird could be good. Better than good.

“Don’t make me come down there,” Sev growled. Not unlike Sergeant Draka, actually.

Scorch couldn’t help himself. “Oh yeah, do come down here ... ” He bucked into his fist, as if to jerk out that ball of bliss from behind his sack. The mass of him tensed rigid under one fixed goal. His fumbled around for something in the sheets with his free hand. “Come down her thick legs ... ”

If anything could singe Draka’s hairs, it’d be Sev’s spunk. Scorch loved a blast, but Sev would sprinkle baradium on his Oaties every morning if he could. Sev would spill like a gutted aiwha, animalistic and uncontrolled, and Draka would hiss and gnash her teeth and—

And suddenly, Scorch was over the line. His base clenched hard, choking his groan of release. He convulsed and came thickly into one of yesterday’s socks.

“Shab,” he croaked, his vision returning, his limbs pooling with pituitary pleasure. “Blew up real good.”

Somewhere above him, Sev huffed. “Three nights in a row. You’re disgusting—you know that, right?”

“Stasis, my shebs. I’ve never had such busy balls in my short life.” Scorch twisted languidly to the edge of the mattress and sat up, squeezing his cock clean. “Cooking blanks like they might get lucky.” The knotted sock got buried in tomorrow’s laundry and Scorch borrowed some of Boss’s wet wipes for the cleanup. Sarge wouldn’t miss them.

“The rest of us are fine,” Sev countered.

Scorch glanced at Sev over his shoulder. His brother looked like a corpse who’d taken up reading in the afterlife. Base bunks weren’t much cosier than a stasis pod, but something else was keeping Sev’s spine stiff. Something that might affect squad performance if it wasn’t addressed: a bad case of self-inflicted blue balls.

Scorch pulled up his pants and ambled over. “You know ... you say that. But this says something else.” He grabbed Sev’s perky junk.

Happily for his brother, Scorch’s grip was light. So when Sev knocked Scorch backwards at the throat, he didn’t take Sev’s sack with him. A scuffle ensued, half-hearted on Scorch’s side, though Sev was obviously in one of his fuck-off moods. He always was crankiest after a nap; it’d take him days to shake off stasis. And he was still pissed about Procurement’s theft of his helmet, with its authentic Gamma blood enshrined in red paint. That di’kutla squad had been shipped to Triple Zero, and until Sev butted heads with them again, he’d be as scratchy as a flea-bitten akk.

Using the shallow bunkrail, Scorch flung himself up and collapsed onto his brother, asking the cantilevered cot to bear the weight of two commandos. He was a trusting soul. The tussle continued until Scorch allowed Sev to secure a headlock, rather than drag them both onto the floor. They’d just gotten out of one unnatural bath and he didn’t fancy a dunk in bacta.

Scorch tapped Sev’s thigh. “Alright, alright,” he said hoarsely. Sev’s hold loosened a fraction and Scorch scooted out from it. Sitting up, he grabbed the holozine that had gotten pinned against the wall: some monthly edition of erudition that called itself Lasers & Blasters. “Didn’t know you could, Oh-Seven.”

Sev snatched the ‘zine to stuff it under his pillow. “It’s above your cadet-grade.”

“I think everyone knows you’re the knuckle-dragger around here, not me.”

“I think everyone knows I’m the hero of Geonosis, Killer of Sun Fac.”

Scorch made a theatrical noise that sounded like a broken, wet bes’bev. “Woo-hoo! You hit the broad side of a bantha!”

Now Sev really tried to catapult him onto the floor. But Scorch’s close-combat situational awareness noticed that his brother’s cockstand was holding strong.

“Sev,” he said, panting a little when they’d reached another stalemate, “the only people who know Sun Fac’s name are us, some spooks, and that random forward air controller.”

“Shove off.” Sev kicked him with his boot. He wore them to bed like an animal.

Scorch shook his head. “Not until you take care of yourself.”

“You have some shabla nerve, vod.”

“Rule 45: there should be no happier union than that between a commando and his weapon. But you’ve neglected yours.” He cast a judgemental eye at Sev’s tented pants. They’d been sleeping, shooting, and shitting cheek-by-jowl for their entire lives: Scorch didn’t know why one more bodily function would be that much worse. In that moment, he had more sympathy for his brother’s dick than his brother’s karked-up dignity. Or his own.

He glanced at the chrono. Boss and Fixer still had half an hour at the range and they’d probably hit the mess on the way back. Time enough for a little more equipment maintenance; Scorch believed he was being supremely generous offering what remained of his. He flopped over into a plank above his brother, who was still lying deathly prone. “If you’re not gonna help yourself ...”

“What?” Sev sneered. “You’ll do the honors?”

“Maybe I will. I am better than you, after all,” Scorch grinned. Suddenly, he sensed a game that he wanted to win. They were all like that. Competitive. Not so much against each other, but with each other. Getting screwy Sev off would be the ultimate victory: no one would lose and everyone would leave happy.

“You can’t.” Sev’s disinterest was as threadbare as his pillowcase.

“Alright, vod. I’ll take that bet.” Scorch dug the heel of his hand into his brother’s persistent erection. Sev’s eyelids fluttered. No greater tell in the book. “I bet I can get you off before Boss and Fixer get back. Just this once.”

Sev circled his hands around Scorch’s throat, hissing through perfect teeth bared tight, “You—can’t—Sergeant—Vau—would—”

Scorch scoffed. “You see Sarge here? He’s fucked off to his castle with his kaminii retirement fund.”

Vau had never promised he’d be there on the other side, but ... did he know they’d done a good job? That they’d been singled out for the assassination of the bugs’ chief lieutenant? That they’d survived—no, that they'd excelled, when hundreds of other squads hadn’t? Did he even care? Scorch had to wonder.

He shoved those thoughts aside with conscious effort; they wouldn’t do him any good. Better that Vau wasn't here anyway: he would sniff mightily at this interpretation of no brother left behind. “Hells, he’s probably rubbing one out to a portrait of the dead missus right now,” Scorch continued.

Sev’s grip tightened for their sergeant’s honor. “He wouldn’t—”

“He would. Stars love the old chakaar, Sev, but he’s only flesh and blood.” Actually, that’s all Vau was: cragged skin and blue blood twisted ‘round a frame that seemed to boast a few more bones than average. There must have been a heart in there, too—see: Mird—but Delta had spent their entire cadethood seeking it out to little good. Especially Sev, though he’d slot you for saying so.

Oh, Sev’ika: flesh and blood, plus a lot of bile and bad humor. He stank out the backend when he’d scarfed down too many ration packs, but what would splatter out the front? Scorch was beyond curious now, as he palmed his brother’s package through his clothes.

Sev’s hands held firm, but it was half-hearted, his thumbs only tickling his brother’s trachea. His nostrils flared. He was afraid. No, even better—he was desperate.

It was all the vindication Scorch needed. “That’s right—breathe. Relax. Six-Two’s got you.” He tugged Sev’s fatigues down, hitching the elasticene band behind his balls. Sev grimaced. Yeah, it might not be comfortable yet, but just wait; a little pressure there goes a long way.

“That hurts,” growled Sev.

“Gonna hand me the game?” If Sev had lost sight of his mission objective, he really was gummed up. “Jerking off through a fly feels like doing it in formation,” Scorch said.

Sev turned his head to the wall. If he’d done it at all, that was clearly how.

Scorch took his theoretically-identical brother in hand and felt the heft and heat of a dick that was still an inch left of familiar, however many times he'd seen it. Sev was throbbing. His hands fell away, as deliberately limp as the rest of him, like he was trying to absent himself from his body.

“So ... Sergeant Draka—” Scorch began, realizing he’d just been staring at his brother’s kad for longer than was right. He mentally constructed the fantasy again, deliberately this time, while he warmed up to the idea of working someone else’s shaft. Sev’s shaft. He imagined what Sev might like to hear, because Scorch sure as shab wasn’t keen on hardening up between his brother’s legs himself. That would just be strange. “She’s got you under two hands and a squawking bug under the other, honkin' great tits ready to smother the both of you ...”

Up until he’d found his brother’s cock in his hand, Scorch had fancied himself an honest commando. He really did. Then he had to close the dissonance between his not-insignificant-interest in Sev’s pink tip and, well, Sev: that awkward grump-a-lump who couldn’t look at a sapient or sentient, droid or organic, without scaring them away.

Scorch did it by telling himself this was just his own his cock in a mirror. A learning experience, if nothing else. And his tongue loosened to remember the bet. He began rubbing with intent. “She snaps its neck. Crunch. And isn’t that just your favoritest sound, Sev, ol’ boy?”

“Not her,” Sev said hoarsely.

Manda, he really was giving this to Scorch in the bag. “Who?”

“—don’t know—I don’t shabla know.”

“Easy, vod. You got a lifetime to find out. Well, half of one.”

“Shut. Up.”

Scorch changed the program and flicked a thumbnail right under Sev’s hood. Scratched out whatever dream Sev had building behind his scrunched eyes. It was irrelevant, whatever cleaned the pipes. If his brother didn’t want to say, who was Scorch to ask? The silky give of his hard-on and his nasally gasps vouched that Sev was having an a-okay time. Scorch wouldn’t have a hand, otherwise.

Sev bubbled from his tip. Scorch felt himself flush, but he was more intrigued than anything. It really was like watching a holo of himself. Obviously, Scorch was more handsome, mostly because he wasn’t a fucking psycho ... but a cock was a cock. He lengthened his movement with the slick aid of precome, fisting all the way down to Sev’s slightly lighter curls.

Suddenly, Sev’s fingers wrapped around his. For an alarming half-second, Scorch feared his wrist was about to be snapped. Goodbye dominant hand and superhuman reaction times.

But Sev just held on, eyes pinched shut, arm as unyielding as a barrel.

The situation became more straightforward. Emboldened by the team effort, Scorch stroked faster. Harder. He read the lines in Sev’s fierce face like a manual for a weapon he’d been handed five years ago. A clone lifetime. A batcher’s intuition. He shucked Sev’s sheath down as hard as he could. Twisted his wrist at the top further than Sev’s delicate skin wanted to go. Scorch figured his brother liked the bite of pain. “You feelin’ the heat? You gonna spill all over my fingers, Sev’ika?” he teased.

Sev heaved like he might throw up, and he coughed out only two words. “Do. Not.”

Yeah, he hates that kind of chummy osik and yakking. It was almost sad how much Sev knew what he didn’t want, but couldn’t voice what he did. Even Fixer grunted in approval when something wriggled across the ‘pad’s screen; at least he had some idea what kind of parts he fancied. It was a very broad pool.

Sev just looked embarrassed to be asked.

“Someone’s gonna love your shit, Sev,” Scorch encouraged, coming at it again from a different vector. If he didn’t show his wacky brother some love, who would?

Vau hadn’t been there to bestow that curt nod. They didn’t want to be spoiled. Scorch and his brothers weren’t Skirata’s pups: they’d survived Geonosis because they weren’t. But ... Delta was here and Theta wasn’t and Vau had no karkin’ clue what a close-run thing it’d been. Didn’t know how the knife-edge of his training had probably made all the difference and how chuffed they all were about it.

Or how Sev had made that one-in-a-million shot to Sun Fac’s fighter with half his visor splattered in bug spray. Scorch would remember that for the rest of his short life: angry tendrils of smoke rising behind Sev as he turned contemptuously away from his kill, his helmet gooey with Geonosian.

There were brothers, and there were your brothers: the ones who’d made you better just by being there beside you. Sev was one of those.

Scorch didn’t have to improv osik, now. The words came as easy as his muscle memory as he pistoned his palm along Sev’s angry cock. “Fuckin’ proud of you, Sev: bane of bugs and sniper extraordinaire. Wish Vau could’ve seen it, I really do. I’ll have CLONINT’s guts for rappelling lines for wiping Boss’s cache.”

Sev’s free hand had bunched into the sheet, his knuckles whitening. He stilled suddenly, tense as the second before the opening salvo. Here it comes.

“Ooh, so that’s how Sev breaks. Result!” Scorch had imagined Sev’s orgasm would be like squeezing blood from a stone. Not at all: it came as surely and naturally as his own. Scorch watched intently. Who knew their balls became one in the moment of triumph like that? As Sev’s practically disappeared into his taut body, Scorch had to think on his feet to save his brother’s freshly-laundered fatigues—or, on his knees and elbows, as the case was.

Thunking his other arm across his face, Sev lost the bet with a violent shudder—and without a sound, probably so he couldn’t say he’d enjoyed it. He squirted fully but cleanly onto the open spread of the ‘zine, thanks to Scorch’s management and direction. A long, messy line of cloudy white right across the cross-sectioned barrel of a Magna-Caster-100. Thank fuck for flimsi.

Shaking off Sev's hand, Scorch dropped the wilting cock. It was not attractive, and he prayed the ladies wouldn't think the same, warring with himself about whether he could succumb to the mortification of going limp in someone’s mouth. Maybe it was better to pull out and stripe them? It merited further research on Fixer’s ‘pad, just in case.

“Target softened. Should make things easier for you. Hope you took notes,” Scorch said, oddly transfixed by the description of the ‘Caster’s invisible quarrels he’d spotted on the page. He was growing itchy for a time-sensitive rummage—Scorch would wager his lower left nut that Delta could now go toe-to-toe with any of Draka’s squads for acquisition. With any luck, this mysterious upcoming op would net them some exotic toys.

He shifted his weight, feeling the need to move before that idea made him stiff again and everyone got the wrong impression.

“‘m not soft, di’kut,” Sev mumbled from underneath his arm.

Scorch patted his thigh. “Sure you’re not.”

“Getting soft will get us popped.”

Scorch was halfway off the bunk, but he stopped to squeeze Sev’s fucked-up head. “Hey, ner vod. Look at me—look at me,” he demanded. Sev let his arm fall behind his curls but he kept his gaze elsewhere. “No need to quote Sarge to me. Or go grey over stupid stuff like him.”

Stuff like distraction—a dirty word in Vau��s lexicon. What did they have to get distracted by, anyhow? Grainy holovids? They had enough room in their over-engineered skulls for a few of those, and if they ever got to touch the real thing, Scorch figured they wouldn’t lose their heads. Right? Civvies were so unexceptional, after all. Probably couldn’t tell a maranium blast from a benign xenon light sculpture. Brothers, especially your fellow commandos, were the only company worth keeping—even Vau said so, and Skirata had said Vau had wined and dined New Mando aristos and had bedded a fekkin’ princess in a past life.

Eventually, Sev’s sour mug puckered in something like thought. “If you fucked up my range scores, I’m going to piss in your pack.”

Scorch laughed, dumping his feet onto the floor and wandering in the direction of Boss’s ration bars. Mess was a whole two hours away and Scorch had a month’s eating to make up for. “Sev’ika, no one could fuck up your range scores. You just pregamed with Lasers & Blasters.”

The ‘zine smacked the back of Scorch’s head, wet side flat.

Yeah, we're still good, Scorch thought, as he finally manhandled his stroppy brother onto the floor. And we always will be.

(also on Ao3)

[etlunainmorte]

DMC WEEK DAY 2: Monster | Cryptid | Demon ( Dante )

~ My next entry for the DMC WEEK, which is monster, cryptid, and Demon, featuring Dante!

~ Light warnings compared to DMC WEEK DAY 1. However, if you easily get disturbed or squeamish at the mention of blood, or nasty crawlies, then this fic is not for you. Please, proceed with caution. The "explicit language" warning is up but, other than that, this entry is made to be corny and a bit cheesy. Enjoy!

***

"Ten years, Dante! Ten years! And you still suck at Poker?!"

Dante winced and waved his opponent off, unable to withstand Patty's presence in his office.

Yes, the girl has just turned eighteen. Despite that, it didn't stop her from going back to Devil May Cry from time to time to annoy Dante. Well, mostly she would just watch her favorite shows on his little television. Sometimes, she would offer to clean his office for a price like how she used to. However, on rather special occasions where the teenager finds out about Dante's gigs, she would rile him up to no end to make him play Poker with her. And, by Jove, she always wins the game.

The girl was definitely right. Ten years of their unusual friendly relationship and Dante has yet to beat her in that card game. It might be because the girl has become even smarter than ever before due to Lady and Trish's influence, or Dante has just lost his fire with games such as this.

"Now, you owe me - "

"Whatever! Ugh,... " Dante went to his chair and collapsed on it, putting his feet up on the table and snatching the magazine before him.

"You sound like a sore loser." Patty answered as she went towards the little television and turned it to her favorite channel.

"Why don't you just go out with your buddies or boyfriend, huh?" Dante added as he grumpily turned another page of his magazine.

"Oh, jeez, Dante! Who are you? My dad?" Patty laughed as she comfortably settled on the floor. "For your information, I don't have a boyfriend. Don't need one because I can perfectly protect myself!"

"Sure."

"Oh, and now you have to take me out shopping! That's your punishment for losing, Dante."

The man brought his magazine down and threw deadly stares at the teenager who was always invading his personal space. "Is this your revenge for ditching you on that birthday party of yours?"

"Whoa, you can't be serious!" Patty turned away from the screen to raise an eyebrow at the Devil Hunter. "For that one, you'll have to give me a year's worth of your strawberry sundae!"

"I shouldn't have asked." Dante said and clicked his tongue, picking up his magazine once more and putting his focus back to it.

Patty snickered. She just enjoyed annoying Dante like that. The man was never really angry with her, and she honestly thought that he was the better company compared to most people her age, who knew nothing else other than sex and partying. She enjoyed hanging out with the Devil Hunter, and she couldn't imagine her life without her old friend, who always made her smile and laugh.

"Wow. Look at Ripley,... " Patty whispered in awe, her eyes entranced at the horror film being shown on the silver screen. "She's so badass, I wish I could be like her someday." She peeled her eyes off of Ripley and looked at her companion once more. "Hey, Dante!"

"What now?!"

"Take me on a mission some time."

Dante raised an eyebrow at her. "Absolutely not!"

"Aww, come on! I wanna see you become like Ripley!"

"Ripley?"

"Yeah! Wouldn't it be cool if you could say her most popular line from Alien?"

"And what is that line?"

"Get away from her, you bitch!" Patty recited the popular line with the most rugged tone of voice she could muster.

"Haha!" Dante laughed and brought his old magazine down, taking one slice of pizza from the box on his table and gobbling on it. "I have better lines than that!"

With furrowed eyebrows, Patty stood up, went towards Dante and took a slice of pepperoni special for herself. Taking a bite, she asked, "Like what?"

Dante chuckled and answered, "Jackpot!"

"That line again?!"

"That is loads better than Ripley's line! And I bet other cheap rip offs of Alien already had that line, it's gotten too old."

"Really?" Patty answered with much sarcasm.

Before Dante could even answer, the door violently opened, and a few moments later, a very sweaty and nervous - looking Morrison entered the shop.

"You could've at least knocked, Morrison!"

"Hey, what's wrong with Mr. Morrison?" Patty mused as she finished her pizza and went towards the man.

However, before Patty could even come close, Morrison stopped her in her tracks, holding up a trembling arm with his palm up.

"Don't - !" Morrison wheezed, clearly struggling with something. "Go near - !"

"You okay there, Morrison?" Dante, who just got off his chair, asked a moment later. And as a tasteless joke, he added, "Did an alien enter your body, or something - ?”

"It's,... CRAWLING!" All of a sudden, the poor broker yelled in agony as he collapsed on the floor, his hands taking hold of his left leg as if he was in deep, excruciating pain.

"Oh, my God!" Patty mumbled and was about to help the man when Dante stopped her from going closer to Morrison.

"Let me handle this." Dante said, kneeling next to Morrison. "Let me take a look at that, Morrison."

"It's,... CRAWLING! IT'S CRAWLING UNDER MY SKIN! I CAN FEEL IT!" Morrison howled, his sweat almost flooding his face.

"Shh! Shh! Relax,... " The Devil Hunter uttered the little words of encouragement that served as Morrison's only warning before his left pant was completely torn off from him, revealing a golf - ball sized thing underneath the part of the broker's skin where his pulsating purple veins became blaringly visible.

And he was right. The thing really was crawling.

And it was creeping up towards Morrison's upper thigh!

"It's like from Alien!" Patty shrieked in shock, stepping further away from the broker in fear of contact with whatever's inside Morrison.

"Patty, I need a string! Anything to tie Morrison's leg and stop this thing from moving!" Dante commanded like a general barking orders to a private officer.

"You mean a tourniquet?"

"Whatever! JUST MAKE IT QUICK!"

“Right!” Patty obliged as she ran to look for the thing.

"Okay, Morrison, I want you to relax. Breathe,... " Dante spoke as he took hold of the broker's leg, his left hand on his upper thigh, and his right hand near the ugly moving bulge. And he could definitely feel the thing struggling to get to the poor man's upper body. It's rather strong.

"HOW COULD I FUCKING RELAX?! THERE'S A THING IN MY BODY! I COULD FEEL IT CRAWLING - !"

"I know, I know. PATTY!"

"Here!" Patty handed Dante what looked like his telephone cord and he received this without any complain or hesitation, seeing the poor broker twitch and tremble with pain and fear. And with the cord, he proceeded to tie Morrison's upper thigh as tightly as he could, earning him a wide - eyed and terrified look from the broker.

"What are you doing?" Morrison nervously asked as he watched Dante secure the cord tied around his thigh. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

"I'm trying to help you!" Dante howled in answer, trying his best to not get annoyed with Morrison. "Patty, get my knife on my drawer. And my whiskey bottle. Quick!"

The moment Morrison heard the words knife and whiskey, he felt a heavy weight on his chest. He lost his consciousness. However, despite that, the thing still tried to get past the cord tied by Dante.

"Here." Patty handed the knife and Dante wasted no time in pointing the blade at the thing. And the moment it felt the blade on the broker's skin, its movements became much more erratic, as if it knew that it's going to die. And as soon as the blade started cutting through the poor broker's flesh, the man's eyes snapped open and he let out an agonizing scream of pain that pierced through Dante and Patty's eardrums.

"Patty, give him the whiskey!"

"R - right!" The girl nervously answered as she opened the bottle with trembling hands and proceeded to make Morrison drink its contents. The liquor burned a path down his throat, making him a little numb. And yet he still felt it when Dante went on cutting his flesh.

"Morrison, you have to help us here!" Dante howled as his eardrums were, once again, assaulted by the broker's screams and curses of pain. "Do you want this thing out or NOT?!"

The man winced, almost crying in pain. "I DIDN'T SIGN UP FOR THIS!" He, then, snatched the bottle of whiskey from Patty's hands and downed all of its contents in one gulp. Throwing the bottle away, he screamed, "DO IT!"

"Don't cry now, Morrison!" Dante answered with a grin, and with one swift movement, he was able to make a clean and straight cut of his flesh. One painful stab with the blade mere seconds later and the thing was finally out. It landed on the carpet next to Dante's television just in time when the baby alien burst out from one of the characters’ chest.

Its bloody body pink, fleshy, and pulsing, with little hairs protruding from it, and its numerous little arachnid - like feet still moving and twitching, it almost looked like a Nidhogg, but much longer.

And even more disgusting.

And the moment the little alien howled from the man's chest in the screen, the unknown creature stood up, raising its nasty looking little mandibles in the air, and screeched with such unearthly sound, its yellow saliva coming out of its mouth.

"OH, GOD!" Patty let out in disgust at the creature that came out from Morrison's leg, making the broker faint.

"You're not welcome here, little fella!" Dante taunted as he took out his Ebony and Ivory, pointing them at the creature. "I'm afraid to say it's adios!"

Everything happened so fast. The creature launched itself in midair towards Dante, its mouth slicing and opening up the size of an unfurled umbrella, its pair of mandibles growing a few inches, ready to devour the Devil Hunter's head.

But, the man in red was much faster, and much more agile. With a few Ebony and Ivory rounds shot at the creature's mouth, the thing went down, dead and still somehow twitching like a swatted insect.

And the moment the creature stopped twitching, Patty and Dante heard a louder screech coming outside the building. The unknown noise went on for almost a minute, and when it finally stopped, they felt tremors on the ground as if something huge just moved and ran away.

"It's the Alien Queen!" Patty announced, amazed and frightened at the same time.

Dante hid the pair of guns and took out his most powerful weapon, the Rebellion. "Alright, kid, stay here and don't leave Morrison behind!"

"I told you! I'm no longer a kid!" The teen retorted behind Dante's back as the man went out to hunt the Alien Queen.

And, sure enough, the Devil Hunter found the much larger creature outside, towering like an Empusa Queen, looking twice as ugly as her,...

... and looking just as pissed as the Xenomorph alien Ripley has to defeat.

"You, uhh, got a thing for the broker or something?" Dante quipped with a smile, the thrill of a good fight starting to excite every fiber of his being. And with a swish and flair of the Rebellion, he beckoned the monster towards him with his finger. "Hate to say this but,...

... get away from Morrison, you bitch!"

***

The news about Morrison's near death experience at the hands of a new class of Demon they now call, "Xenomorph" ( named after the alien in the movie ), reached the others as soon as daybreak hit. With investigations conducted by Trish, Lady, Nero, V, and Vergil, they found out that the Xenomorph stalks its prey, and using its minions, the smaller versions of itself in the form and size of a small spider, it enters the prey by penetrating the skin, mostly from the lower torso, and staying there for at least a few more hours until the creature inside grows enough for it to be able to travel to the victim's brain. Further investigations also revealed that when the creature takes over the victim's brain, it would be able to control the person, bringing the unfortunate prey towards the Xenomorph's nest against their own free will, ready to be devoured by the Demon Queen, herself. More studies showed that the Xenomorph had other uses for the prey's body aside from her nourishment. It was said that she would also use the body as a "breeding ground", laying her eggs there and waiting for them to hatch. Then, these little Xenomorphs would consume the body from the inside, organs, fluid, and all, little by little, until such time when they are big enough and ready to come out.

But, of course, Dante and the rest prevented Morrison from knowing all this until he was well enough to handle any information of the thing that entered his body and almost killed him that one night.

And Patty? Let's just say she stopped watching sci - fi movies with aliens in it and went back to her old favorites, which were romcoms that Dante found utterly cheesy and corny.

***

@dmcweek

***

[coconutnunnicorn]

Black Magic

LOOK HOW NOT SAD I AM AT THIS I didnt edit any of this

No look, I had a whole thing planed out for this and honestly I dont think Imma go through it. 

tw: death, implied rape, implied abuse, for real this is super kind of sick so just please this is bad

angst, abuse, death, implied assault/forced pregnancy/just very bad stuff

E Slur/ Fem / Dabi

+This is not for the faint of heart please, its not super graphic or ugly or maybe you won't even think its that bad, but i just wanna give super clear fair warning.+

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Im absolute shite at inserts, I suck hard at the whole first-person thing.

=

Bear with me while I get my shite together [Dabi is Touya here] Im kinda tipsey

=

Last WARNING tw: implied rape, forced pregnancy, abuse, kidnapping, DEATH

=

Small, her voice wormed its way into his ear, "I told you." A small pair of palms smoothed their way along his back, "I will be there for you the way you were for me." After everything they had both endured from the man panting before them, it was finally time to take back what he had taken from them. Their power, their strength, their life. Igniting along his arms, the crackling blue of his flame brought life to the dingy alleyway the fight had progressed to, arms outstretched he flexed his fingers.

Drawing her frail form close to his, she took in notice of how much thinner he had gotten over time, how had she missed that. Tightly shut, her eyes began to pulse angrily under the force, she shook away the memories of her last few months. She refused to think of the terrible things that had transpired, her gaze soon fixated around the man, who had saved her from that monster, she wouldn't let Endeavour hurt Touya ever again. "Powering up!"

Dabi let himself relax as small arms slithered around his torso, arms raising just enough to let her to bury her face against his ribs, he had never enjoyed being touched. With her though, it felt almost empowering. Stretching his lips into a sadistic smile, he felt a surge of warmth from where her form moulded with his. He felt - Alive. "Power levels twenty-two per cent, kick back eight per cent." The living inferno had absolutely no clue as to what the slight woman spoke of, but he knew he was starting to feel different.

She knew by now he would have noticed, but she refused to pull her heated gazed from the firey one she now locked with, Endeavour, number one hero. Ge wasn't a hero, he was a monster. He was disgusting, his unbearable desire to have the perfect offspring was suffocating. When she had found out about Rei, she had done all she could to escape the mad man, but, it had not been enough. She just hadn't been strong enough. Now, now she could make him pay, she could help the person she owed her life to, achieve his dreams and in doing so, she - would - make - him - sorry. "Power Levels thirty-four per cent, kick back ten per cent."

He felt a surge wash through his body, the arc of his power swirling higher along his bicep, right into her face. Dabi at first was concerned, but snapping his attention to her form only revealed that she seemed to be absorbing the damage rather than burning. Returning his stare to the man before them, the villain gave a soft scoff, "I expected more. Losing yourself over something so trivial, you always called me weak, like mother, but it was you who caused all of this. I told you I was going to kill you. I meant it."

Cutting him off, she gave a quiet beep of sorts, eyes lighting up like flashlights, "Power levels forty-six per cent - fifty-two per cent, kick back fourteen per cent." Squeezing the man in her grasp, the woman exhaled slow but forcefully, a light blue spark bouncing off her frame to stick to his.

Startled, not so much at the alert, but rather by the fact his flame began to fan almost out of control, Dabi felt his gaze dart around to the fires that licked the walls around then. Oddly, his flesh didn't smoke, his staples held, he certainly felt the heat but the side effects he should have been experiencing weren't there.  It was then that Dabi truly understood what her intentions were here, she wanted to be just as free from him as Dabi did. He didn't blame her, after the traumatic loss of her innocence he understood entirely why she wanted to help him with this. "Power levels maxed out - eighty-three per cent, kick back twenty-two per cent." Glancing down, Dabi almost choked at what he saw, he was certainly starting to smoulder, but her flesh was peeling. Under the eye, around the mouth and down the throat. He was witnessing her rapidly change as he, himself, felt a surge of power unlike any other before. It was as if he were manipulating his quirk for the very first time.

His flames swirled wildly, illuminating the alley brighter than the afternoon sun ever could, expanding and moulding. Her body hurt, her skin hurt, and her brain was starting to go rather numb at this point. She wouldn't stop tho, she would give all she had to see this monster buried in a hole. Watching Enji slowly struggling to his feet, she felt her resolve harden, the words pulling from her broken soul in a sound she didn't recognize at all, "I'll see you burn!"

He would burn, Dabi would make sure, he would burn for the things he had done to him, his family, to her, Endeavours time was officially up and he didn't even know it. Awkwardly. Dabi lowered himself, turning into her embrace, her confused expression left him with a softer chuckle escaping his charred lips. "We can do this." He never would have before allowed anyone to be so close to him, but after all his time with the League, he was beginning to understand the importance of others. Wrapping his form around hers, he folded her frame into his own slender one as he sank their embrace to the asphalt at their feet.

Dabi had always known his quirk was strong, it had been drilled into his head that it was his resolve that made him weak, that it was his own fault his body flayed itself apart at the heat he could generate. Here, in this moment now with her, he knew that just wasn't true. Watching her flesh pull itself into crispy painful strips he couldn't even hear the old man shrieking behind him.

It had been the explosion that had drawn Toga in, the brilliant solar flare of blue that had set the night sky to day for just a moment. Never before had she seen such power from such a familiar shade of electrifying blue, but she would recognize that hue anywhere. Toga had not been expecting to find what she had tho, a tremor moved its way through her spine and into her hands as she watched the scene dissolving before her own eyes. Entangled in one another, it was the woman, and the man Toga had considered her brother and friend. Choking quietly on a sob, the blonde had almost failed to notice the fading away image of a rather famous hero. It was as if he has been incinerated, his body crumbling into dust to be carried away on the wind.

Returning her eyes to her fading friend, she noted the peace in his smile, the way the woman's flesh was charred just like his. Toga wouldn't say the embrace was that of a lover, as she drew closer slowly, she noted the way their foreheads had been pressed to one another. A smile stretched painfully across the woman's face, they had been happy when the events had transpired. Cautiously, Toga reached her fingers out to brush the spiked black do she had come to associate with Dabi. Wrenching from her chest, a sob echoed around her as the pair began to crumble to ash just as the hero had prior. She knew she would have to report back to their leader, but for now, she just couldn't seem to stop the rainfall of emotions working their way from her eyes violently down her face.

First Mange, now Dabi.

[indiavolowetrust]

Carajillo II

SUMMARY: The sequel to Carajillo, which you can read here. A coup d'etat has been staged in the Celestial Realm. The human proposes a plan to halt the impending war.

Part One: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Part Two: Coming Soon!

Part Three: Coming Soon!

TW: Blood, Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Mention of Rape

PART ONE: CHAPTER SIX

The knife strikes with a steady, precise rhythm against the board, the pearly onions rendered to slices within moments. Then there are the leeks, shallots, garlic, and bunches of mint, all of which sit idly by the expansive chopping board. The bandages wrapped around my hands prove to be rather cumbersome in the task, reducing my efficiency -- but it is my experience that allows me to work deftly around the obstruction. It is likely that I would have to change the bandages at some point within the next hour: the crushing of the cumin, cinnamon, wild bulbs, and numerous other spices that I had found myself unable to name have both stained and left the bandages with a savory smell, leaving me currently unable to work with other meat. Or any other food, for that matter. I imagine that baking a butterscotch pie with traces of pork fat and savory spices would have little appeal.

Despite my best efforts, I find that the image of her is branded into my mind. Seared deep into the recesses of my memory, dredging up both unpleasant and pleasant thoughts. Her dark curls had spilled over her shoulders as I pressed her to me, and I was vaguely aware of the soft, full lips that laid beneath my fingers. The moonlight had illuminated her features in such a loving manner, embracing the soft brown tone of her skin, the shape of her curls, the dark pools of her eyes. Everything about her had been impossibly ravishing, even more so than usual. Had I not known she was only human -- a human spirit, to be exact -- I would have assumed she was a fellow demon who had come to seduce me. A succubus in the most innocuous sense of the word.

At that moment, I had wanted to do nothing more than devour her. To tear her apart in the most wonderful ways imaginable. To feel her body writhing beneath mine as I brought her to orgasm again and again, her pretty mouth letting out soft moans. To hear my name on her lips as her blunt, human nails rake down the skin of my back, the control of her body having fully lost itself in the sensation. To feel my own release paint her insides white. I had prided myself once on my ability to resist temptation, even against my own nature as a demon -- but I could not help but become undone at the sight of her loveliness. Despite the guilt --

A sudden warmth carves a path down my palm. I pull myself back into the present, forcing myself to focus on the sensation.

There is a rather nasty, painful cut on my thumb. The blood spills into the bandages. I watch with horror as the skin does not immediately knit itself back together, the wound remaining a fresh, vivid crimson.

* * *

The hours pass by much quicker than I expected. While the other kitchen staff are allowed nearly an hour of a break for lunch, lower servants such as I have only been given half an hour’s worth. The higher-ranking chefs couldn’t be bothered to do something as lowly as peel potatoes and chop onions, after all. I make a note to increase the pay and rest hours of the castle servants once I return to Lord Diavolo’s castle. There are only twenty-seven minutes and forty-two seconds until I must return to the kitchens. Twenty-seven minutes and forty-two seconds for me to scout the servants’ halls and whatever else I can find.

And so I make haste.

Maria’s instructions had been vague, given her general unfamiliarity of Sanctum’s layout -- but they are enough. The marble corridors, great columns, and alabaster sculptures pass by in a blur. My eyes flicker towards endless halls and gatherings of various servants as I make my way towards what should be the laundry room, paying little mind to the vicious, judgmental gazes of the paintings as I pass. Even with the aid of the Apple of Lies, there lies enough power left in the paintings for the forms to sense my presence. Given my innate sense of time, it is all too easy to discern the thoughts of the silent works of art, their words echoing in the back of my mind.

Impostor! Impostor! a plump, painted cherub wants to cry out. Its stare is both hateful and scathing. This one is an impostor!

Sinful, abhorrent demon, another wishes to spit. If the alabaster sculpture could shift its features or throw its voice, it would. I hope you rot in the ashes of your own guilt. Have you no shame?

You are but a simple, loathsome creature, says the carving of Samson, one of the Celestial Realm’s greatest demon-slayers. Who were you to play god? Who were you to make her suffer for your own ends? The human hates you! Detests you! Loathes you with every fiber of her being!

Or perhaps it is only my imagination.

True to Maria’s words, a relief of an archangel stands just outside of the laundry hall. The sounds of splashing water and falling garments can be heard from within. I stride just to the threshold of the room, catching sight of a ruddy-faced angel. He stands on the highest most step of a ladder and reaches towards a clothing line that has been strung up high on the ceiling. A sopping wet garment and a pair of pins are in his hands. I knock on the door.

The angel nearly falls off the ladder. The pair of pins clatter onto the floor, the garment meeting the surface with a squelch.

He regards me, eyes wide. “You -- you --” he stammers angrily, clutching the ladder, “-- you could have killed me, you idiot! Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

“I did knock.”

“You know what I meant!” The angel looks with frustration towards the fallen garment. He begins to clamber down the ladder, each step prompting another creak from the rickety object. “Now look what I’ve gone and done. The head laundress will have my neck for this, I assure you, and I’ll be sure to mention --”

“I’m looking for someone named Maria,” I lie. “Do you know where she is?”

He raises a bushy brow. “Maria?”

“Frizzy hair, frail, stands at approximately this height.” I gesture with my hands. “Have you seen her?”

He taps a sole finger on his chin, his free hand holding himself in place on the ladder. “Frizzy hair, you said?”

“Yes.”

“You must be talking about the little one, then. The head laundress sent her out back to gather some water for the washing.” He juts his chin towards the end of the room. A painted door stands wide open, the rays of sunlight nearly blinding me as I look towards it. “Don’t expect info like that to come free, though. In exchange for nearly killing me, lad, you can --”

I’m already halfway to the door.

The sunlight nearly blinds me as I step outside, flooding my vision with pure white. I find myself blinking in the aftermath, shielding my eyes against the sun. Thankfully, the effects do not last long. It is only nine seconds and twelve milliseconds before I am able to fully discern the image before me, the overgrown flora nearly obscuring the path. The nearly hidden path seems to have experienced little, if any, tending, reflecting only a few other areas of Sanctum. Areas that are less likely to be seen by high-ranking officials tend to be either under construction or completely unattended. Even the great hanging garden at the heart of Sanctum appears to have just experienced the fruits of the gardeners’ labor -- an aspect that the pale creature had checked on the first day of our arrival.

That indicates one of two options: one, the new empress has little control over her servants and people, thus leading them to be disobedient; two, the new empress has just come publicly into her position and has had little opportunity to exercise her power. If it were the latter -- which I would assume it is, given the general lack of unrest -- that would further indicate an unsteady balance of power amongst high-ranking officials.

If the new empress wants to keep her head, she’ll have to rule with an iron fist.

I continue onto the path, deftly avoiding the brambles and clumps of thorny flowers that seem to lunge at my feet. Five minutes and forty-one seconds later, the path finally opens into something a bit more spacious. A dry well sits in the middle of the space, a bucket having been long abandoned beside the stone structure. The sounds of activity can be heard beyond the weathered walls of the buildings that surround me. I press forward.

The sounds of activity, as it would turn out, originate from a rather extensive training yard. Despite its size, however, as well as my own biases towards those of the angelic persuasion, I must admit that its design is rather clever. The training yard is divided into exactly three levels, each of which is populated by a number of recruits testing the true might of their weapons. Swords ring out rather noisily against spears; another group trains with a smaller set of daggers. A stairwell leads up to each level, allowing convenient access to the space, while an observation deck sits some distance from the highest level. My gaze flickers instinctively towards the observation deck, inspecting the figures that stand there.

My eyes widen at the sight of the pale creature. A rather thick veil covers her visage, creating a shadow -- but it is obvious that she is having great difficulty discerning the finer details of the training. Her pink pupils shiver and waver under the assault of sunlight, and she squints. A slightly shorter angel stands beside her, her skin a deep, rich umber. A number of painted designs trail what skin is visible through her light robes, the fabric dyed surprisingly a vivid collage of orange and gold. Her long, braided hair is beset with gold coils. She lifts her hand to her mouth as she laughs, the multiple rings on her fingers gleaming under the sun, and her teeth --

I pause. I have never seen such a sharp, fearsome maw on an angel.

“Barbatos?”

I turn towards the noise, despite the nearly inaudible quality of it. Maria stands by a well that is situated on the far end of the training yard, hoisting a  sizable bucket of water under her arm. A number of curls fall from her low bun, making her appear disheveled, but she strangely shows no other signs of effort. Then again, the shadow created by the awning above does much to obscure her form. Her sudden vigor is likely my imagination.

What are you doing here? she mouths. Aren’t you supposed to be in the kitchen?

I tap my wrist, miming a wristwatch. She nods in understanding, positioning the bucket of water at her hip as she begins to make her way towards me from the well. Given the odd structure of the training grounds, she manages to pass where it is cooler in the shade.

Tomorrow, she mouths once more. As if I would forget. She manages the steps quickly, spilling only some of the water over the edge of the bucket. I am only vaguely aware of the racket of the training yard as Maria begins to near me.  If --

I sense the shift in the air before I hear the scream. The sharp reverberation of a blade, passing wildly through the air. The gasp of an onlooking recruit as they turn to witness the disaster that will be, their own reflexes and speed too underdeveloped to make a difference. My eyes only catch the vestiges of the image as the blade moves towards Maria, the human continues unaware down the steps, the balance of the bucket occupying her thoughts at the moment.

I lunge for her. The blade nicks my cheek as it passes by, slicing open the flesh -- then it is embedding itself audibly into the column beside us. Maria squeaks as she falls beneath me, releasing the bucket. It is only a moment before we are both soaked in its contents. I wrap a bandaged hand behind her head before we can both fall against the stone, disregarding the pain that is to come. It is, as anticipated, as unpleasant as I thought it would be: the flesh of my hand nearly tears itself open upon impact, the cut on my hand reopening within the confines of the bandages, and I can just barely see the blossoming of crimson. No matter. Maria’s head has not met the stone. Her body has likely produced no more than a few bruises.

It is six seconds and twenty-one milliseconds before I pull myself away from her. One hand propped up against the stone, the other cradling her head. Her eyes are still wide with shock, the dark, coiled strands sticking her forehead, but upon inspection I discern that she is unharmed.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

There is a clamor before us. I look in its direction, curious -- only to see the empress making her way down the stairs in her finery, the gold coils clinking against one another as she does so. A portion of her robes are gathered beneath her fingers, allowing her to move with haste. Combined with her many rings and golden bracelets, however, it is a wonder how her pace has not slowed from the sheer weight of her jewelry. Even more surprising is the worry that is etched on her features. The pale creature follows close behind, nearly soundless as she glides down one stair to another.

“Are you two alright?” the empress asks, stopping a mere distance from our fallen bodies. Her robes meet the stone once more as she releases them, falling with a hush. Her golden eyes -- the form of which also seems a bit strange, I note -- inspect both Maria and I thoroughly. They widen at the sight of my cheek, which has now been fully drenched in its own blood. “You are wounded, good angel!” she cries, bringing a hand to her mouth. The empress turns to the pale creature. “Oh, Gallatha -- Gallatha, my dear, come closer -- this one is wounded!”

The pale creature, Gallatha, nods. “It would appear that he is. I will send for a healer.”

“Send for the best one that we have, my dear,” she orders. “What if he expires?”

“My Divinity, I am sure that he will not expire at this very moment.”

Before I can react, the empress pulls me from my position and back onto my feet with astounding ease. She reaches for Maria as well, searching her for injuries as she does so, and frowns at the sight of lacerations on her knees and elbows. Maria fidgets awkwardly beneath her inspection, clearly unsure of how to react to the overbearing empress’ attention.

Her face flushes, her eyes quickly averting themselves from the empress’ gaze. “My -- My Divinity, I’m pretty sure that Boris and I are --”

“Oh, nonsense!” She ruffles Maria’s hair with ringed fingers, smiling with the grace of a benign monarch. “There’s no need to be so reserved, my dear girl. The days of that horrid system are now gone. I will ensure that the recruits are duly reprimanded for their carelessness. My advisor will ensure that you two are treated in the infirmary.” She turns to the pale creature. “Gallatha?”

Gallatha steps forward. “Of course, My Divinity.”

I cannot help but stare in disbelief.

According to what Maria could remember in limbo, the coup d’etat had seemingly been the work of one ravenous, powerful beast. A golden creature had stormed into the throne room one day, interrupting a private meeting between God and his council members. The grand doors had slammed against the marble walls with such ferocity that none could help but stare at the intrusion, the sound giving the act a sense of finality. The air of an execution. It was only after a moment that God had dared to speak from his throne.

Begone, foul creature! he had ordered, rising to his feet. You have no business here. Leave this place, and you shall leave here alive. Stay, and I shall smite you until you are no more than scorched earth!

The creature had only tilted its head in a curious manner, its teeth clicking together in terrible humor. Is that so? the creature had said, the sound of its precious stones and many golden coils echoing in the hall. Will you smite me, truly? You, an insect who dares to place himself above the affairs of men and beasts? You, a cowardly beast who has become obsessed with power? You are nothing more than a false idol. Your throne is no more worth than a bed of mud.

And then the great creature had thrown back its head and laughed, its maw shining in the divine light. God had ordered his guards to seize the blasphemous creature, demanding that it be executed at once. Declaring it to be an affront to the Celestial Realm itself.

But he had neither the foresight nor the knowledge to realize what this creature was.

The creature took God by the collar, dashed him against his own throne, and devoured him whole. All was silent for a moment, the screams of the desperate being dissipating to the air. The council, who had for so long reveled in the absolute power and control over the caste of the Celestial Realm, could only watch with horror. And then the golden, wondrous creature had turned to the council with an all-consuming hunger, licking its chops, and the throne room regressed into chaos.

Rich, sweet blood, pooling on the marble. Lumps and limbs scattered about, the bodies having been long torn asunder. The golden creature had lapped at the remnants, its maw a deep, vivid crimson. And then it had plucked the crown from the marble, the precious metal stained with the blood of its former owner, and settled upon the grand throne.

For all that Maria could not remember of her time in limbo, given her state, she had told me these things with the utmost confidence.

And so the kind, generous empress before me cannot possibly be the one who had staged the coup d’etat. She cannot be anything more than a figurehead. I find myself searching the empress’ smile before she is escorted away by her guards, searching for any signs of that terrible maw. Yet there is nothing but the image of her plump, smiling cheeks, her teeth very decidedly not sharp and horrible, her genuine, kind gaze, and her array of golden adornments.

END OF PART ONE

[bloodys44]

Silence and Cigarette Smoke

Decided I should create a space to share my content and interacte with people more :) I love Nalu, and writing about them brings me so much joy, I hope you enjoy my story :3 I have a few more chapter’s published on if you follow the link below :)

Full Story: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

I don't own Fairy Tail. All rights reserved to Hiro Mashima.

Silence and Cigarette Smoke - Prolog: Wings Of A Guardian Dragon

785

Nothing in Lucy Hearfilia's life had ever felt comparable to the excruciating twinge her lungs were currently experiencing. Shuddering in her chest, begging for a sliver of relief. The soles of her feet were raw, split and bloody. No doubt leaving a trail of unforgiving red in her wake. Never had she run so far, the reaper lapping seductively at her heels. The comfort of the town's protective stone walls growing farther with every step, leaving her hopelessly lost in the rather daunting forest crowning the edge of the county. Not that finding her barrings would be worth anything if she couldn't outrun the overly persistent officers shredding apart her shadow. The ferocious sound of metal horse shoe's connecting with the rocky earth eating away at the quiet of the evening. The chances of slipping away from trained men on horseback were less than slim, but she couldn't bring herself to stop pressing her heels against the dirt. The thought of rotting away, hidden under the cold earth was grotesque, to say the least. Death being a frosted window she couldn't peer through, she could only distinguish terror at the uncertainty. Her energy was growing as thin as the forest around her, a murky clearing fast approaching. Panic began to bubble through her chest as she watched the shrubbery dissipate. Her cover in the branches would be lost, they would spot her instantly, thus ending their little game of cat and mouse. The last nail of her coffin, scorching down from the heavens. She supposed she should be grateful that she got as much time as she did, it was only a matter of time until fate would have caught up with her. Only she had hoped for a little longer. Hoping to eventually earn a life worth living, something beyond the aged brick of ally ways and cheaply rented rooms.

The clearing was vast, shades of green mixed with the unusual appearance of sakura trees. It would have been rather breathtaking if she had any oxygen left donate. She glanced over her shoulder, watching as the officers began streaming through the trees and into the void space. Lucy screeched and reared forward, sprinting with the last ounce of her strength. They were fast, encroaching on her like a swarm of starving vultures to prey. Howling with pleasure at the sight of their feast. The unmistakable whip of an arrow snaked by her head, leaving a gash embedded into her left cheek. She whimpered at the sting, swallowing the cry that crept up her throat. Another thwak emits from the taut string of a bow, metal connecting with the flesh of her calf. A piercing shock pulses through her skin, causing her to plummet towards the rocky earth. Her wrist emitting a sickening crack with the ground. She wailed pathetically, pulling her shambled body into more of a sitting position, trying to hold herself together. Her eyes darting towards her leg, assessing the damage. It hadn't pierced through the front of her shin, arrowhead lost somewhere between muscle and bone. Using her good hand she tore the serrated metal from her skin with a revolting squelching sound that split through the vast emptiness. She cried in desperation, holding her injuries as the foul men approached. Five heavily ironclad officers surrounded her, the moonlight glinting off their numerous badges. Their faces all masked by the royal guards' signature helmets. Silver and engraved with the crown's unique seal. The man she assumed to be the captain dismounted his horse first, removing his helmet to reveal a shaggily cut mop of brown hair. His eyes a shade of hideous green that matched the rotting mirth of his teeth. His cracked lips curling into a cruel smirk that succeeded in flipping her stomach. He crouched low, his gaze matching hers before trailing over her figure.

"I believe you owe us some compensation for all the trouble you've caused little Miss." His voice was shrill and dripped with freezing intrigue. "The King has all kinds of folk out searching for you, even after all these years. Really makes a man wonder what makes you so special?" He leaned closer, folding his fingers around the delicate edge of her chin. "A nameless woman with hair that could rival that of real gold. Reminds me a lot of our dearly departed princess." He continued, eyes in a focused search for any reaction she could sprout at his pointed words. "I always found it fascinating that her execution wasn't public like that of her worthless mothers. After all the King's ravings about purging the enchanted blood from the royal line, one might think he would have paraded her corpse as a trophy to pair with his Queen's." Lucy could feel the beat of her heart thrumming against her ribcage, rage at the blatant disrespect for her Mother clouding her judgment. She pulled her lips back in a half-hearted sneer before spitting into his face.

"Queen Layla was the best ruler this kingdom has ever throned, and all of you were so entertained by your sick sense of ethnocentrism you failed to see just how much she truly loved her people." She drawled, keeping the disgusted expression plastered across her features.

His smirk twisted into a gloating rage, eyes sharp in a glare. He reached a leather-gloved hand forward, grasping a thick handful of her golden locks. Lucy wailed as he pulled her forward with a cackle, her face stopping mere inches from his groin. Her bloody leg dragging across the rocks heavily. The other men began to liven up, sick laughter and snide comments filling her ears. She tried to squirm out of his grasp but he overpowered her easily, his laughter building with every shift, growing into hysteria."I suppose spitfire is a good name for you." He leered, tightening his grip around the dirty strands of her hair. "Not many can say they've had their way with a princess, what a lucky day indeed." Another man approached from the side, shooting his heavily booted foot forward to strike the side of her stomach. The air in her lungs slipped past her lips forcefully. She tried to regain her composure but the man wasted no time in continuing his assault, straining forward to tear the remains of her gown away, leaving only her structured slip.

"Oh captain, I hope you plan on sharing." The second man leered, excited eye's bouncing around his skull as he took her figure in. He shoved his gloved fingers between her lips, prying her mouth open as the captain began to unclasp the metal fastening of his uniformed bottoms. Lucy clenched her eyes shut, holding back the bile swarming her throat. This is not how she pictured going out, violated and broken. Hot tears stung the pale skin of her cheek. She tried to clear her mind, focusing on anything but the reality that was about to be forced upon her. The greedy fingers that tore at the skin of her cheek twitched and without a moments thought Lucy bit down with all the force she could muster."You bitch!" The man squealed like a lost child, flinging her head back as he forcibly removed her fingers. She peeled her eyelids back, only to be met with a metal-clad knee connecting with her vision. Only the gods would ever understand how comforting the blackness that melted over her was.

The world she awoke too was nothing like the world she had closed her eyes on. The earth twisted and warped by demanding flames. The once beautiful clearing masked by a thick layer of black smoke, eating away at the sky. All the stars hiding in terror behind the blackness of the galaxy. She couldn't move, frozen in time. Her vision a compilation of stop-motion images. The air around her twisting violently out of lungs reach. There was no pain and despite the conjuring of hell around her, she felt almost content. Letting the earth swallow her. Her head lulled to the side, taking in the remains of the ashy coffin around her. A shadowed figure obstructing her view of the scorched sakura trees. Movement's fluid as he approached her, kneeling at her side. A deep navy cloak washed over his shoulders, a lazily folded hood capped over his collar bones. Her eyes trailed over him, trying to distinguish if he was real or a figment of her dishevelled mind. Lucy had never seen something put together so carefully, so beautifully. His skin was a deep tan that matched nothing of the town's folk she was usually surrounded by. It melted over the sharp features of his face, dripping gracefully under his overly defined jaw. A wash of pink atop his head, blending with the blossoms of the tree line. And god, the most mesmerizing onyx eyes captured her soul, gleaming against the firelight. Eyes that could only be that of an angel, for no human soul would ever be deserving of them. Her fingers shot up, grasping the face above her, a disturbing gasp tearing from her chest. Surely the lack of oxygen was meddling with her mind, but she tried to ignore the thought. Focusing only on the man that was now clumsily stringing her against his chest. His perfectly sculpted lips were moving slowly, whispering against her cheek. She couldn't make out any words, but it was comforting none the less.

"An angel...?" She felt her lips mumble. She truly must be dead, a god sent from the heavens to retrieve her. His chest shuddered underneath her amusingly. Was he laughing her? Her mind working tirelessly to find an explanation for what was tumbling around her. Surely he couldn't be real. No real human had ever been graced by the stars in such a way. She couldn't concentrate, the heaving of her chest far too distracting, as it continued to beg for air. His arms were rigged yet gentle against her frame, holding her securely as he pushed forward through the raging sea of red and orange. His movements were hard to distinguish through her dazed state but she was almost certain the flames were parting for him, leaving an ash-glazed path for them to pass through. She shifted in his arms slightly, causing the man to tense against her. She rested her head against the hard planes of his chest, an uncomfortable pounding working its way to the front of her skull. She let her eyes fawn upwards, trying to concentrate on the focused expression the man was wearing above her. Black was seeping into the sides of her vision and despite her best efforts it was becoming extremely difficult to make out the delicate features of his face. She hummed out an exhale of disappointment eyes shifting upwards, not wanting to retreat into a sleeping state. His neck moved rigidly, sparing a glance down towards her, noting that she seemed too pre-occupied with the sky over his head. And she was, mesmerized by the flames cascading out behind him. Figurative wings blistering against his back. An angel of death carrying her off into the shadows of the night. There was no fear looming through her, her mind simply astonished by the wonderous view before it faded into nothing.

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