#nearly 3000 words later. here we are

[little-paper-man]

oh god chapter 15 is going to be a Behemoth.

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Burning Hearts Chapter 3

Pairing: Law x Straw Hat Zoan Type (named) FemOC 

Word Count: 3000

Summary: You were teleported across the globe in an instant, away from your crew. Your body was badly broken and beaten, thrust into the harsh landscape of a Northern island. You are discovered by the Heart Pirates and brought back to health. Startled upon waking up in a foreign place with an unfamiliar crew, you are shocked with the news that you’ll be spending two years there. Trafalgar Law, the captain of the Heart Pirates has made a promise to train you, but will it become something more than a mentor relationship?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 - Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

TW: Trauma, alcohol use, smokable plant usage. ;)

Hours went by. Or was it 5 minutes? 

Time didn’t feel real. 

The pillow under your face was soaked through. You had been crying for so long that your eyes had nearly swollen shut. Every time the tears slowed, the deep ache of your damaged bones and muscles throbbed and reminded you of your harrowing ordeal, causing the sobs to begin again. 

*knock knock knock knock*

You sit up in bed. Do you answer? Should you bar the door? You realized you were still covered in flimsy hospital clothes so you throw on the sweatshirt from your bag and sit back down on your bed. 

“Um… Yeah?” You hesitantly call out. The door handle turns and the door cracks open. A woman’s voice responds from the crack in the door. 

“Hey… uh… you missed dinner… I brought you some food anyway… Can I come in?”

“Ok…” You wipe your nose and eyes on your hand, sitting up straighter. 

Carefully, a woman with long, curly brown hair entered your room with a tray of food and some folded clothing. She was clad in the same off-white coveralls that all of the Heart pirates wore. She had a pointy nose and high cheekbones, long dark curls framing her face and shoulders. A yellow headband pushed her hair back into a curly crown around her head. 

“Hi.. I’m Ikkaku…” She smiles slightly and takes a tentative step towards you seated on the bed. 

“I’m Daisy.” You respond.

“It’s just some stew and rice, nothing fancy. We don’t really have a cook so we alternate kitchen duty. You’re lucky it wasn’t Shachi this week… he can barely boil water.” The woman chuckles. 

“Shachi…?” You say mostly to yourself. 

“Yeah. Pointy teeth, orca whale hat, stupid long greasy hair?”

“He was one of the ones who kept watch over me…” 

“That was him and Penguin. They’re complete morons, but they’re loyal guys. In fact, most of the people here are idiots. The captain is often not excluded from that. You’ll get used to it. I’m the only girl around here. Until now, I guess.” 

She sets the tray down in front of you on the bed. You also notice that the tray contains several off-white jumpsuits stacked together. Ikkaku sees you eyeing them. 

“The captain asked me to bring them…”

“I’m not wearing the fucking uniform.” You turn your head and shoot a vicious glare at the woman.

She puts her arms up in defeat. 

“I don’t blame you.” Ikkaku swallowed nervously.  “You don’t even know us and you’ve just experienced the most insane thing that’s ever happened to you. I’m not going to force you into a boiler suit.” 

Your glare softens. You drop your head and sigh. You realize your sweatshirt had ridden up and exposed the large brand on your lower stomach. Quickly, you pull your sweatshirt back down.

“Listen. I have some old clothes I wear on laundry days, I’ll drop them by later. They might be tight in the chest…” Ikkaku gestures at your ample chest and then back at her much smaller one and chuckles. “But it’s something clean.” 

“That… that would actually be great…” You sigh again and look back at Ikkaku. 

Ikkaku softly smiled. 

“Of course… I met your captain, you know.” 

You rubbed your eyes. 

“And? How was he?” 

Ikkaku laughed. 

“He’s a weird little dude. Pretty ripped up about losing his brother, though. One thing I do know, Daisy, is that he loves you and his crew a whole lot. I heard him tell our cap, he wants to make sure he never loses anyone he cares about ever again. That’s why he wants you to stay here and train with Law. It’s because he cares about you.” 

You feel the tears bubbling up again. Ikkaku’s woman’s intuition makes sure this doesn’t go unnoticed. She crouches next to where you were seated on the bed. 

“Hey… I know this sucks. You have to do what your captain asks. Just like I do… even though more than half of me was convinced you were going to rip my arms off when I knocked on your door. My captain was right. We have to trust them.”

You bring your hand up to your nose and mouth to try and cover your crying face. 

“If it makes you feel better… I got your weed back.” Ikkaku pulls out a red satchel and dangles it in front of your face. You sniff up your tears and lift your head. 

“No way… how?!” You grab it greedily out of Ikkaku’s hand. 

“I was cleaning the halls and found it in a wastebasket. I thought it had Berries in it so I grabbed it. Imagine my shock when I find this instead.” Ikkaku giggles. 

“Oh my gods, I seriously can’t thank you enough.” You genuinely smile for the first time since your incident. “I’m going to roll something right now. Care to stay? I owe you one. For the food, too.” You nod towards the tray of stew. 

Ikkaku looks at your bag, then turns her neck to make sure she had closed your door.

“As long as you don’t rat me out to my captain, I’d love to indulge.” Ikkaku smirks. 

You smile back and begin rolling a joint. After masterfully creating your signature spiked cigarette, you light the end carefully with your beautiful, gold engraved lighter that Sanji had given you for your birthday. You take a deep inhale of the sweet smelling herb and your eyes nearly roll back in your head in relief. 

You feel a twinge of pain in your back. 

“Hey, can you crack the window? I don’t need your weird captain barging in and apparently I can’t lift my arms anymore.” 

“Yeah, I’ll get it.” Ikkaku rises from the bed and opens your small window. You feel a rush of polar air from the crack in the window. Tiny snowflakes tickle your nose. She returns to her spot at the foot of the bed. You take a few more hits off the joint and pass it to your newfound acquaintance. 

Ikkaku wordlessly takes the smoldering cigarette in her fingers and takes a drag. She coughs violently. You offer her the glass of water on your tray that she accepts. After her coughing fit subsides, she laughs. 

“Man it’s been while. You must have a serious supplier, this is strong. Law is a real square when it comes to this shit.”

“Trust me, I noticed that. And I grew it myself, she’s my pride and joy.” You rolled your eyes. “What’s his deal, your captain? He isn’t exactly warm and fuzzy.” You take another long pull of the joint. 

“He’s seen a lot of shit. He seems hard and scary, but he’s really just a nerd. He collects ancient coins, for fucks sake. He’s got a strong sense of justice, he’s crazy powerful, that’s why we stay with him. He’s a gifted surgeon, saved countless lives. He may be a weirdo, but he’s our captain. I’m sure you can relate.” Ikkaku takes the joint from your fingers again. 

“Yeah… I get that…” You lean back against your stacked pillows. 

“What’s with the ‘Room’ thing? How does that work?” You asked, feeling that the altered state of consciousness would allow Ikkaku to open up to you more. 

“The Op Op Fruit, yeah, he ate it when he was a kid. He doesn’t like to talk about it. Shit, he’d kill me if he knew I was talking about it now, haha!” Ikkaku laughs, clearly less acquainted with medicinal herbs than you were. “He can make an operating room and control the laws of physics within it. He can swap people into each other’s bodies, he can do all kinds of weird shit. It’s the only reason you’re still alive. That, and his gifted skill as a doctor.” 

You finish the joint and snuff it out on the windowsill. 

“And your power?” Ikkaku asks. 

Your breath hitches in your chest. 

“My power?” You ask. 

“We… we saw your wings… I just assumed it was a-“ Ikkaku shakily inquires.

“I… I don’t know… I was forced to eat the devil fruit when I was a teenager. I’ve only used the wings. I guess a bat, there’s claws, though, maybe a lizard, or something, I guess… I don’t know nor do I want to. I can prove myself without devil fruit powers. I much prefer to use my blades in a battle.” 

“I see…” Ikkaku responds. 

“But your captain, he’s a swordsman… that’s why Luffy wants me to learn from him, right? He wants me to hone my skills with my blades?” You ask. 

“I don’t know what he meant. All I know is you’re here to train for awhile.” Ikkaku sits up. “After you’ve healed, of course. Eat up, gods know how long it’s been since you’ve had solid food. Thanks for the flower, I’m about to get the best sleep of my life.” 

Ikkaku rises and heads to the door. 

“Thanks for the food. I’ll see you around.” You nod. 

“Yeah, you will.” Ikkaku shoots you a warm smile before leaving. 

— — — 

You spent the next 3 days brooding in your room, accepting food trays from Ikkaku and sneaking to the bathroom when you were sure the rest of the crew had gone to bed. Time had still felt immeasurable, never able to sleep more than a few hours without waking from violent nightmares. 

“You can’t stay in here forever, you know.” Ikkaku had told you the night before. The sentence bounced around in your skull all night. She was right. You were feeling better physically and knew you couldn’t complete your captain’s assignment simply by wallowing in your bed for two years. 

This morning was the morning you were going to get up and start your new life. 

You haul yourself to the showers and spend an hour cleaning your hair, body, and face. Once finished, you dried off and pulled on an old set of Ikkaku’s clothes. 

Instead of trekking back to your room, you proceeded to find your way to the galley. 

“Haha! There’s no way you ever got that girl to come home with you, I call bullshit!”

“No no I swear! Remember that time-“ 

The chatter in the galley ceased. Each crew member dropped their conversation to stare at you as you gingerly stepped into the kitchen. There were almost a dozen sets of eyes on you, all silent as you moved through the door frame. 

“Don’t mind me…” You awkwardly slid towards the fridge, trying to be as small as possibly. 

“Hey, Straw Hat Girl! Heard you’re stuck here for awhile!” A large, brutish man shouts in your direction. 

“My name is Daisy.” You scowl. You grab a bowl of white rice that was on the kitchen island. 

“There’s fruit and eggs in the fridge, Miss Daisy. I can grab something for you, if you’d like-“ The large polar bear you recognized from the first time you regained consciousness rose from his stool and moved towards you. 

You frantically moved back, still apprehensive of the creature. 

“I’m fine!” You huffed out. “The rice is fine, thanks.” 

You scurried back to your room with rice and chopsticks in hand, sweating from the awkward interaction. Breathing heavily you slam the door of your room shut and sit down at your desk to inhale your breakfast. 

— —

“Well that was fucking weird.” Penguin finally blurts out after the girl’s sudden exit from the galley. 

“Leave her alone, she’s just lost her crew. Give her some grace.” Ikkaku states. 

“Yeah I’m still mad she tried to slaughter Penguin and I multiple times, though” Shachi remarks from across the dining table. The men around the table laugh. 

“You guys don’t get it. A woman being thrown into a situation with strange men she doesn’t know? You’ll never understand that fear. She’s handled it better than any of you could ever.” Ikkaku rises and leaves the table. 

A heavy silence fills the air of the galley. 

— — 

The day turns into evening and you roll over in bed to change the pressure on your damaged hips. You could barely walk still so you were mostly bound to your room, against your will. 

*bdpp bdpp bdpp* *bdpp bdpp bdpp*

You hear the hum of a mini transponder snail somewhere in your room. You rise from your pillowed nest to try and find the source of the call. You rip the closet door open and see a ringing snail on top of the clothing rack. 

You cock your head in interest. Who put that there?

You grab the ringing snail.

“H-hello…?”

“Daisy? It’s Ikkaku. The boys are finally in bed. I found the whiskey stores unlocked. Come down to the galley.” *click* The snail call ends. 

Whiskey? Your mouth waters at the mention of it. Normally you preferred to smoke your mind altering substances instead of drinking them, but a cold shot of whiskey sounded like heaven on earth. You pull on a pair of spandex shorts but don’t bother throwing anything on over your sports bra. You quietly creep towards the kitchen. You push the double doors open and find Ikkaku pouring two drinks into rocks glasses. 

“Hey girl. Glad you made it. I’m on watch and it’s been painfully boring.” Ikkaku pushes a very full glass of whisky in your direction. 

“I’m not one to turn down a drink.” You tiredly smile at your newfound friend. 

Silently, you and Ikkaku “cheers”ed your cups before each taking a large sip. 

*bddpp bddpp… motion detected. South Gate. Bddpp bddpp…” 

“Oh my god, these stupid monitors. Law makes us check them constantly. He’s so paranoid. I’ll be back in a bit.” You nod and Ikkaku excuses herself. 

Now that you were alone, seated at the kitchen island with a drink in your hand, you decided this was a perfect time to forget your present struggles. 

You slam your glass in one gulp. The alcohol was beginning to warm your veins. It felt good. Comfortable. You grab the bottle and pour another glass. You try your best to sip it slowly but find yourself chugging the whole cup.

More. 

More. 

The heartbreak and pain of losing your crew drifted further and further from your mind as you ingested more alcohol. On your 5th glass you stumbled and ended up catching yourself against the cool metal wall of the galley. 

“I’m so fucked…” 

— — — 

*CRASH*

The clatter of dishes and cups brought Law out of his office. He trudged down the hallway from his office to the kitchen to investigate the commotion. He swings open the double doors to the galley and looks around. 

Nothing. 

“Hnnnn… fuck…” 

Where was that voice coming from?

Law storms into the galley and investigates the noise. He finds the source quickly. He sees a tangled lump of brown hair with a grey streak laying on his kitchen floor. The body held an empty whiskey bottle in their hand. 

“Gods, Daisy.” Law sighs and rubs his forehead. 

“Luffy I think it’s fuckin great nnnhnn we can have more chips it’s a great idea. More chips, more dip. You an I… we fuckin get it…" 

“You’re wasted. I’m going to take you to your room.” Law states casually. 

“Who the FUCK are you… can’t take my dip..” Daisy lazily rolls over to try and resist, but falls again, pinning her own elbow onto the floor. 

Law takes a deep breath to calm himself and picks Daisy up off the floor, bridal style. Immediately, arms wrap around Law’s shoulders and neck. 

“I wanna go home…” Daisy whispers drunkenly into the crook of Law’s neck.

Law hears a weepy sniffle.

“I just wanna go home…” A wet sob is croaked into his neck.

He knows what she means.

"Please, I want to go home..." Daisy chokes out through sobs and drunk syllables.

“You’re going to go to bed now. We can train tomorrow.” Law trudges towards Daisy’s stateroom. Pushing the door open with his shoulder, Law enters the room. 

He walks carefully towards the bed and tries to gently drop her down, awkwardly letting her fall onto the sheets with an “oof!”

“You need to sleep, I must-“ Law starts. 

Suddenly a hand grips the back of his neck. 

“Can you stay?” A trembling voice calls out. 

The air is thick again. Law feels shaking fingers against his neck.

“What?” Law asks. 

“Every time I sleep…  it happens again. I see it again. It all happens over again. I can’t stop having these nightmares…” Daisy’s drunken grip on the back of Law’s skull tightens. “Can’t you stay here… with me?” 

Law was shell shocked. Not in his life had anyone ever asked for his touch or his presence. He knew anything he could ever contribute would make it worse. Daisy needed to grow… and his veiled comfort would only impede that. 

“I-I can’t…” Law pulled the blanket over her exhausted body. 

He stood up from the bed and peeled Daisy’s hands from his neck. Law shut off the overhead light and exited the stateroom with haste. He pretended he didn’t hear your wracked sobs and cries as he shut the door behind him. 

Law returned to his office and poured himself into textbooks, trying to forget the pain you were going through. His vision was blurred with thoughts of your desperate, curled up form as he tried to further his studies… 

Law knew you were going to be a bigger problem than anticipated. 

xx

Author’s Note: Something fun might happen in the next chapter hehe! Law is feeling conflicted. Should he leave Daisy to deal with her emotions on her own, or should he give in and comfort her? Who even knows what she wants right now. Also sorry OC is a stoner, it's suuuuch a devious self inset, LOL. Suggestions are open :)

[rose-pearls]

Game night

Summary: it's time for game night with the Dagger Squad, who will win?

Relationships: Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace x reader, Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x Tom 'Ice' Kazansky

“This is betrayal.”, Hangman screams, and everyone rolls their eyes at his words while Phoenix smirks before once again showing him how much he owes her.

“That will be 1000-dollar Bagman.”, the blond aviator grumbles before giving her the money he has barely left.

“Why don’t we play another game?”, Ice suggests, and everyone looks at him like he is crazy while Maverick rolls his eyes dramatically.

“Don’t be ridiculous, the game is going well.”, Maverick smirks before taking his turn and ending up on one of Ice’s properties. He starts to sweat at the sight of a smirking Iceman.

“That will be 3000 dollars.”, everyone starts to laugh except for Maverick who looks at Ice in betrayal.

“I am your husband!”, the whole room groans while Ice shrugs his shoulder.

“Can’t use that card every time Mav, welcome to the real world.”, the pilot grumbles loudly before giving Ice his money.

“This game sucks.”, Ice starts laughing while Maverick is pouting like a child, with no money left.

--

Monopoly had been a challenge, but Uno had to be the worst of all of them, as they were all looking at each other with dubious expression.

“Hit me Bradshaw.”, the man in question smirked at Phoenix before dropping a ‘+2’ card making her glare at him as she was finally getting at the end of her cards.

The next one to play was Bob and Hangman was reassured that he was just after the WSO, he was after all the sweetest of the bunch. Until the moment he dropped a ‘+4’ card.

“Bob! How dare you? I thought you were the nice one!”, Phoenix is howling in laughter and Rooster has his phone in his hands, so he probably took a picture of Hangman’s face.

“It’s nothing against you personally but a game is a game and I’m here to win not to make friends.”, Phoenix starts laughing once again followed by the whole table at Bob’s words and Hangman starts pouting.

“Your boyfriend is a menace Bradshaw.”, Rooster smirks proudly at Bob before looking at Hangman with a teasing grin. 

“Don’t forget he is your menace too.”, Bob smiles innocently at Hangman and the blond pilot rumbles while taking his cards.

“Never again.”, he says under his breath and playfully glares at a laughing Bob. In the end the WSO wins, and Hangman can’t help the proud smile that appears.

--

“Twister is a game of precision and tactics, if you don’t have that you lose.”, Phoenix smiles at her girlfriend as she explains the rules and she feels butterflies in her stomach as you smile at her.

“Maverick left foot on blue.”, the game starts and even though it was easy at the start but it becomes more complicated every time.

“The game is getting harder aviators, concentration is key.”, her girlfriend says with a teasing smile before sending her a wink.

“Ice move your right leg to red.”, the Admiral groans but follows the order, and just like they planned he ends up with his ass towards Maverick who suddenly looks like a dear caught in headlights. Ice moves a bit to get comfortable and two seconds later Maverick loses his balance with a flush on his cheeks making everyone laugh while Ice looks confused.

“Rooster, move your left hand to green.”, the pilot follows the order, but it brings him into a position that is nearly under Bob and awfully close to a certain body part that makes the pilot blush. 

“Hangman, move your right leg to yellow.”, the aviator looks around before finding one and practically ending up on top of Bob, making the WSO blush.

“Bob left hand to blue.”, the WSO moves a bit, but it causes Hangman to get distracted and lose his balance making the three of them fall on each other.

“Common Jake!”, you hear Bob grumble under the blond and Rooster is trying to stop laughing while Hangman looks comfortable laying on his boyfriend’s butt.

Phoenix and Ice are the only one left but with a little help of her girlfriend she manages to beat the Admiral and gets a kiss as a reward.

“We should get this game at home.”, Ice rolls his eyes at Maverick’s mischievous grin, but a blush can be seen on his cheeks.

--

The last game of the night was going to be Jenga, and everyone had been training for this moment. It was always the moment where the winner of Game Night was crowned, and the person could choose what the group was going to do next weekend.

“Get set, ready, Payback go.”, the whole table starts to go around and most of them manage not to make the tower fall but it starts to get wobbly by the 10th turn. Just as Fanboy takes his block, the whole tower falls and the WSO groans.

They continue to play until only two players are around the tower, Phoenix, and Bob. She knows that her WSO is strong at this, and he knows that she won’t give him any chances.

The game is nearly tied until Phoenix takes a little too long to take her block and the whole tower falls to the ground, making Bob the winner for the third consecutive time.

“Common, why does Bob always win?”, everyone laughs at Coyote’s teasing while Maverick and Ice look like proud dads.

“So, what are we doing next weekend?”, Phoenix looks at her WSO with a smile as Rooster and Hangman have their arms around their boyfriend.

“I was thinking karaoke and then going out?”, they all groan while Rooster lights up and drops a loud and wet kiss on Bob’s cheeks making everyone chuckle.

Phoenix doesn’t know what she will expect from the karaoke night, but she feels her girlfriend’s arm around her waist and as she looks at you, she feels relaxed and at ease.

--

The karaoke starts with Maverick doing a rendition of ‘Ice, Ice, baby’, making Slider howl in laughter as he nearly falls from his chair and Ice looks absolutely done with his husband.

Phoenix and you decide to sing ‘Mamma Mia’ or well more scream the lyrics but still at the end of the song the whole group is on their feet’s.

Payback and Fanboy try to do ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, but it ends up in more laughter then singing as the two can’t stay serious.

Coyote surprises them all with ‘My heart will go on’ and they all join in, probably missing far too many notes as they do.

Ice goes next with a smirk and Slider joins with a mischievous grin and they started singing ‘Troublemaker’ to Maverick making the pilot glare at them while a blush was present on his cheeks.

Bob, Hangman and Rooster are one of the last to go but they don’t disappoint with ‘Danger zone’ and Phoenix can’t stop joining the song as her and Bob start destroying the song jumping around as they sing, aviators on even in the dark room.

Through the night they spent singing songs from ‘I want it all’ by Phoenix and Bob to ‘you belong with me’ that is screamed by everyone until their voices are hoars and hurt. They can’t stop smiling as they leave the karaoke club and join a night club as they make a promise to do this once a month.

[duhragonball]

Nanwum Schemin'

I finished my August writing challenge tonight, and I'm pleased to say that I managed to hit 20,000 words and that's actually enough to cover this year's Christmas special. I tried this last year, but I only wrote 15k in September, and Red Christmas ended up being 32k long, so I wound up writing more than half of it in December anyway. This time, I took that into account, which is why I used August instead. I figured if Blue Christmas ran long, I'd be able to use September to finish it off, but it looks like I managed to fit the entire plot in 20k, so that's satisfying. I need a little more to finish the ending, and there's some stuff I'll want to add and take out, but overall, I have a working first draft that I can have ready for AO3 without much trouble.

I still have to figure out what the hell Yellow Christmas will be about. I saved that one for last, since yellow is the Luffa color, but I think I've used up all the good fanfic AU tropes by now, so I'm gonna have to get creative. But that's a problem for 2024, and I'm here to talk about the fall of 2023.

Concerning the Apocrypha Liveblog, I plan on wrapping up some loose ends in September. Super Dragon Ball Heroes episode 50 came out last week, so I can write about how the Aeos arc (we won!). I also want to knock out the DBS movies, and I think the DBS Manga will probably be done with their Super Hero adaptation, so I'm penciling that in as well. Whatever's left over I can deal with in October or later.

November is NanoWriMo season, and this will be my 7th entry in the event. I don't count my ill-fated attempt in 2003, since I never logged it with the website, and I had no idea what I was doing and flamed out by the second or third day. But I've been doing these since 2017 and I've been racking up wins ever since. I'm feeling confident at the moment, so I'm going to try to set some goals for myself, which I'll put under the cut.

Looking back at my past runs, I've had some good years and some difficult ones where I didn't reach the 50k goal until Day 29 or 30. I always find it more satisfying to finish early if I can. My preference is to have things wrapped up by Day 20, so I can write more stuff in the overrun, or start editing and posting, or just slack off for the next ten days. It's always enjoyable, so I think I need to make this a priority.

For a number of years, my objective was to boost word count and reach certain milestones in the Luffa storyline, but I passed one million words last year, and this year I've nearly finished the Xenoverse 1 adaptation, so things are a little different. I think I can afford to think about how to improve productivity, rather than how to hit certain plot points. So we'll aim for that.

Currently, my earliest win date is Day 17, which I pulled off back in 2021. So I'm going to try to hit 50k on or before Day 16. Here's how.

This month, I learned I can get more done by breaking up my large word goals in to 500 word chunks. To finish by Day 16, I'll need to average about 3000 words a day, which is something I've always struggled to do consistently, but now, I think I can make that work. The idea is to devote six hours across a day, where I write 500 words in each of those hours. It really seemed to help me out this month, so it's time to see if that technique can push me further.

One other thing I want to try is to break my personal record for one-day writing totals. Currently, that stands at 7023 words. So I've chosen three days where I can attempt to do that. I'd like to do more than jut hit 7024, though. 9001 would be pretty sweet for the meme value, but it sounds really daunting.

The important thing here is that I give myself permission to fail. If I can't maintain 3k per day, that's fine, because even falling short of that goal still makes good progress. If I can't make it to 7k or beyond, that's fine too, because wherever I land, it's still a lot of progress. And if I'm not done by Day 16 it's fine, because I'll have two weeks left.

But I think I can do this. The rewards would be sweet. AEW Full Gear is on the 18th, and it'd be pretty great to just have a lazy Saturday where I watch that instead of writing. NJPW will probably run their World Tag League shows between November 15 and December 15, so I'd have the whole second half of November freed up. And mostly, I like the precedent it would set if I could consistently land 3k in six hours or less. I feel like that's something I need to prove to myself.

If this is going to work, I need to do some solid plotting in October so I'm ready. I do reasonably well with "they fight" as a prompt, but if I have a list of spots and story beats to work with, that would cut down on the indecision that usually holds me back.

[seaside-stories]

Went to my room at 8, told myself i'd write for a bit, its now nearly 11 and im not done, nearly 3000 words later, a billion uquizzes later confirming that i am jon himself; i am absolutely vibrating

Self indulgent TMA self insert told in the style of recording. I also have no idea what the dates in the show are but this is supposed to take place after Jon was in that coma where he made a deal with death or whatever.

Jonathan "Archivist" "Jon" Sims, You (or whoever you want "you" to be) | ~3000 words

*recording begins*

*door creaking open, creaking shut*

[Receptionist]: Hi there, can I help you?

[You]: Hi, I need to speak with the archivist here?

[Receptionist]: I’m sorry, you’ll need to be more specific than that. We have quite a few archivists here at the Institute.

[You]: The best one, then.

[Receptionist]: Hmm…(they consider this for a moment.) Alright, I’ll fetch him for you. You can take a seat in there if you like.

*rustling of fabric*

*a chair is drawn out, scraping the floor loudly in an otherwise quiet room*

*crinkle of paper*

[Archivist]: (distant) …didn’t even ask who they were--ah. Hello.

[Receptionist]: (to you) This is the head archivist at the institute.

*boots click as they walk away*

[You]: (to the Archivist) Hello.

[Archivist]: Uh…what brings you to the Institute?

[You]: (chuckling to yourself) It’s kind of a long story. And a weird one, at that. If you’ll indulge me for a little while, I’ll leave here and never return at your request.

[Archivist]: Sure.

*another chair is drawn out loudly against the quiet room*

*more rustling fabric*

*something rigid is placed on the table*

[Archivist]: I hope you don’t mind if I record whatever it is you have to say. We get our fair share of…strange stories that I’d rather be able to recall than not.

[You]: That’s fine by me. I was already sort of aware of the Institutes association with the paranormal and such.

*tape recorder clicks*

[Archivist]: Statement of…

[You]: Y/n.

[Archivist]: regarding…

[You]: Strange experiences involving the idea of the Magnus Institute.

[Archivist]: Original statement recorded live from subject on the ninth of March, two thousand and nineteen. (To you) Whenever you’re ready.

[You]: (hesitant) I don’t really know where to begin with this. Well, I guess I do. (sigh) I guess I should just say it. This whole ordeal started this past summer, in the beginning of June. I was fine one day, and then the next day, something felt different. I had always felt satisfaction in knowing all there was to know about something I was interested in, but after that date, it felt more like satiation rather than satisfaction. And I can say that in confidence because I spent many a sleepless night thinking about it.

In addition to the newfound satiation from learning, I also began to see…eyes. Everywhere. I was never that put off by eyes in general, I mean, hell, I have two of them, but it felt like an explosion of eyes. I thought at first it might have been Baader-Meinhof syndrome, but then I realized eyes weren’t new to me.

Another thing was that I started seeing the word Magnus pop up everywhere. This one was especially creepy to me. I had read the Magnus Chase series some years back and had the books on my shelf. The more I tried to ignore all of the eyes and the Magnus bullshit, the more likely I was to trip on one of those damn books in the middle of the night. It felt like Magnus Chase himself was out to get me. It actually worked in my favor, though. That’s how I found your Institute. But more on that later.

The last thing to start happening, and the strangest by far was all of the recording. My phone would just start recording sometimes. It would start and stop like it was being operated by someone. I choose to treat this ghost operator like a friend.

[Archivist]: Is it on now?

[You]: Yup.

*rustle of fabric*

*rigid item being placed on a flat surface*

[Archivist]: When did all this start?

*the tape recording begins to get staticky*

*the phone recording begins to have lots of snow and glitching voices*

[You]: I said. Last June.

[Archivist]: But when? What date?

[You]: Um…The 5th or 6th, I suppose. I’m not quite sure the exact date.

*static and glitches end*

[You]: Should I continue? (pause) Great. As I said, the appearance of the word Magnus everywhere was not limited to anything. Every guy named Magnus was commenting on my online posts. Any organization with Magnus in the name was coming up in my feed. Hell, even my top recommended artists on Spotify were people named Magnus.

Anyway, one day I opened my web browser and there was an article on the front page about paranormal activity. It mentioned some American media like Buzzfeed Unsolved, but also Ghost Hunt UK, and finally it mentioned the Magnus Institute at the end of the article as the UK hub for all things paranormal and creepy. They also mentioned that all of the employees were quite elusive and not likely to allow the general pubic to read their files. I see they’re somewhat right about all that.

That night, though, I had a strange dream. I often have dreams that make no sense, but this one felt like a warning or a call. I remember, in the dream, I flew to London. Then, I came here and spoke to someone who, now that I think about it, looked remarkably like you. And then the eyes started to show up and before I knew it everything was covered in eyes. That’s really all that matters anyway from that dream.

[Archivist]: There’s more?

[You]: The rest of the dream entails a strange sort of grocery-store police chase and then everyone ended up jumping off the side of a boat.

[Archivist]: …Interesting. Ever tried dream interpretation?

[You]: I don’t want to know what the rest of that dream means. The most important part was clear enough to me: something was telling me to meet you in London. So I made the arrangements, and I came to the Institute. And now I’m here.

[Archivist]: (bemused) I was expecting that story to be a bit…

[You]: More exciting?

[Archivist]: I suppose. Maybe a bit gorier as well.

[You]: Apologies. I could add some gore if you’d like?

[Archivist]: No! No, that’s…it’s fine as it is. I do have a few questions though, that may seem a bit…strange.

[You]: You think I care about some strange questions after seeing eyes everywhere for months?

[Archivist]: Touche’. (inhale) Have you ever experienced the ability to draw any sort of information out of someone, no matter how cagey they may be?

[You]: (heh) I guess you were right, that is certainly an interesting question. Uh, I can’t think that I’ve ever done that on purpose, though I like to think of myself as the type of person that people wouldn’t ever keep secrets from for no reason.

[Archivist]: Hmm…Have you ever experienced just…knowing things that you would not usually be able to know? Sort of like clairvoyance, in a way?

[You]: (scoffing) Clairvoyance is not real. I’m sorry, but as invested as I am in this institute and its paranormality, I do not believe in clairvoyance. No, I have never experienced that. Anyone who tells you that someone can see the future is probably too dumb to realize that the person is just really adept at reading body language and such.

[Archivist]: The pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?

[You]: How do you mean?

[Archivist]: You just told me a story of books throwing themselves off shelves and how you arranged to meet me in London because of a dream.

*deep sigh*

[You]: I’m sorry.

[Archivist]: It’s alright. I was skeptical at first as well.

[You]: How does someone become the head archivist here being skeptical?

*static and glitches begin again*

[Archivist]: I was an an archival assistant to the archivist before me. After she passed, my boss, who really runs this place, appointed me to the position. Sometimes I feel like someone else might have been a better choice but I’m in too deep to have thoughts like that…

*static and glitches end*

[Archivist]: (sharp inhale) How did you do that?

[You]: Do what?

[Archivist]: You just compelled me!

[You]: Compelled you to do what?

[Archivist]: To answer your question. You drew the answer out of me.

[You]: I didn’t do anything. You answered on your own volition.

[Archivist]: (chuckling confusedly) No, I didn’t. You asked me a question, and I had to answer. I need to test something. Will you excuse me for a moment?

*a pause before the chair squeals against the floor*

*shoes slap against the archive floor*

[You]: (to no one) I don’t need two recordings of this…

*phone recording ends*

*phone recording begins*

[You]: I guess I do need two recordings of this.

*footsteps approach*

*papers rustle*

*rigid item is placed on the table*

[Archivist]: This isn’t usually something we do here at all, but I need to test something.

*paper slides*

[Archivist]: I’d like to ask you to read this statement on recording.

[You]:(weirded out) …Alright.

[Archivist]: Great. Let me just turn this off…

*tape recorder clicks off*

[Archivist]: If you could turn off your phone recording as well, please.

[You]: I’ll try--

*phone recording ends*

*tape recorder clicks on*

[Archivist]: Just as I said it.

[You]: I don’t remember how you said it.

[Archivist]: Just read it, then.

[You]: Fine. Statement of Amaya Reynolds regarding the disappearance of the Davidson Family. Original statement given on September twenty-third, two thousand and nine. Audio Recording by y/n, guest.

*pause*

[Archivist]: (whispers) Statement begins…

[You]: Oh--statement begins:

*tape recorder clicks on*

*phone recording begins*

[You]: Woah…

[Archivist]: That’s strange…continue on anyway. I’ll protect you if anything dangerous happens.

[You]: I can hold my own, but thank you. Uh, statement really begins, I guess.

When I met the Davidson’s, they were a completely normal family. They were right up until the week they disappeared. I had put up an classified advert for babysitting, and they were one of the first ones to call. They had a lovely little boy--Max was his name. I played all sorts of games with Max, and the parents seemed to like me well enough. I only saw him on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, but we were still pretty close. The strange part began about a week before they disappeared. I was playing with Max indoors that day because it was pretty wet outside. We were about to round the corner when he suddenly came to a stop and shushed me. I remember it vividly. This little boy, no older than eight was checking around the corner as if there was someone with a semi-automatic on the other side. I asked him why we had stopped. “She’s coming,” he had said. I asked him if he meant his mum, but he shook his head. I began to speculate if maybe his mother was pregnant, but I didn’t ask Max about that. I asked him after a minute or so if “she” was gone, but he said no, and that he would tell me. We ended up waiting at the corner for nearly ten whole minutes. Then, Max turned to me, and he seemed a completely different boy when he asked me “Amaya, what are we waiting for?” Needless to say, I was thoroughly spooked. I asked Max the next day (which was a Wednesday) if he remembered hiding behind the corner. He said no. I was pretty sure he was being honest and not contrary, but you can never tell. The important thing I remember about that day was around dinner time. I was preparing a place at the table for Max, since the table was fairly cluttered, and I remember clearing away some papers detailing the purchase of a house somewhere in Sussex by Mr. and Mrs. Davidson. They didn’t seem to be packing up their house, though. That Thursday was fairly normal. But I remember asking Mrs. Davidson if they were planning on moving soon. She told me no, and asked me why. I told her I just had a feeling. Max did feel a bit off that day, though. Usually, at the end of each day, especially a Thursday, he’d give me a big hug and tell me he would miss me. That day, though, he hid behind his parent’s legs and just gave me a shy wave. I brushed it off and figured I would ask him about it on Tuesday. Only when I knocked on the Davidson’s door on Tuesday, no one answered. I peeked in the window and the house looked completely empty. No furniture, no nothing. I looked on the lawn to see if there was a sign or anything but there was absolutely nothing. I decided to knock on the neighbor’s door and ask about it, but both neighboring houses said the same thing: There hadn’t been a family living in that house for years, and there were no Davidsons. I seemed to be the only one who remembered them. Even my own friends and family didn’t remember the Davidsons. I talked about Max endlessly to them because to me, he was the cutest little boy ever. But they said they’d never heard of this family. I guess I just pushed down my anxiety about it until recently because it never seemed to bother me all that much. A friend suggested I come here after I told him the story.

Um…statement ends.

[Archivist]: The archival assistants followed up on that one, and it seems that the Davidson’s truly did disappear. They were on the most recent census before then, and then never showed up again, at least in England. And that house that they bought doesn’t seem to exist anymore either. No Davidsons matching the description of this family own any property in Sussex.

*heavy breathing*

[Archivist]: How do you feel?

[You]: Like I took a shot of the strongest shit there is…

[Archivist]: That’s what I thought. Recording End.

*tape recorder clicks off*

[Archivist]: I have something to tell you. At the moment it’s basically a theory, but I’m very inclined to believe it.

[You]: Alright.

[Archivist]: To make a very, very, very long story short: in the world there are entities that draw power from primordial fears such as darkness or falling. The fear of being watched or of being known is one of them. That is the one that the head archivist here is usually the patron of. Unlike the other entities, though, there is usually only one patron to the Watcher at a time. One takes over when the previous one dies and all that. Other than one exception, this is how it has been, and how I assume it will be. However, I had a…run in with death as one might say in the early hours of June 6th this past year. Clinically, I died for a few minutes and was in a coma for months afterward. The Watcher might have chosen a new patron during the time I was dead, not anticipating that I would pull through.

[You]: Like Buffy and Faith.

[Archivist]: What?

[You]: From Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Usually there’s only one slayer, Buffy, but she dies once and then comes back to life, and while she was dead, a new slayer appeared even though she was only dead for like 30 seconds.

[Archivist]: Uh…sure, then. Like Buffy and Faith.

[You]: Oh…but that makes me Faith. Sorry about that. I’ll try to not be evil and everything.

[Archivist]: Thanks. (he inhales to start a sentence, but stops himself; then starts again) Is that a CV?

[You]: This? Oh…yeah.

*paper rustling*

[Archivist]: Were you going to apply for a job here?

[You]: Yeah…but it was really on a whim…I guess that’s kind of obvious though seeing as it’s handwritten…

[Archivist]: Well, I mean with all the present information out in the open, I’d be willing to look this over and present it to my boss who is the real hiring manager…

[You]: Really?

[Archivist]: Well…if this were a normal job I would of course, but I should warn you if you are serious about this.

[You]: Excuse my bluntness, but you just told me essentially that magic of sorts is real. And that anything paranormal could have a legitimate explanation in a domain I didn’t even know about until a minute ago. And you also just told me you almost died and that’s why I’m here. And also no one is talking in here. Or if they are, it’s really quiet. That is not the sound of a lively, fun work environment.

*pause*

[You]: I have the feeling that you’re about to tell me that taking a job here is a death sentence. And I’m not suicidal, but reading that file felt amazing. I would love to learn everything there is to know about these primordial fear entities just for the sake of knowing, and maybe as a little side-quest, try to organize this place. It does not look organized at all.

[Archivist]: It’s not, but it’s better that way. (pause) It really is, I promise.

[You]: Right. Anyway, where do I sign?

[Archivist]: I think you might want to take back that bit about not being suicidal.

*tape recorder clicks off*

*phone recording ends*

[team-gabriel]

♟brightglass?

so, uh… yeah. I might’ve gotten a little carried away. enjoy?

[also on my AO3]

♟- patching up a wound

Jack Bright was almost certain that he’s bled through the half-assed bandage job he’s done on his shoulder. He can feel the throbbing pain radiating down his arm with every exhausting step that he trudged up the stairs to his apartment.

He fumbled with his keys for a few moments before he finally managed to pull the door open, kicking his shoes haphazardly by the mat and hanging his (now somewhat bloody) lab coat on the hook beside the door… he’d wash that out in the morning; he was too tired to do anything about that tonight.

Judging by the blood on his coat, he knew that his shirt had to be soaked as well, and, looking down at the ugly, dark red stain that had spread across his once-white dress shirt, he found that his guess was correct. Jack groaned in frustration — yep, that shirt was ruined… he really liked that one, too…

Whatever.

Simon, who had been sitting at the kitchen counter, was currently pouring all of his focus into the psych reports scattered in front of him. The commotion Bright caused as he entered the apartment was enough to draw his attention, but he still hadn’t looked up from his work.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Bright muttered toward the psychiatrist before he even had a chance to speak.

“Rough day, I take i— Jack, what the hell happened to you?!”

Simon’s casual statement quickly turned into an exclamation of shock and panic the moment he glanced up to see his blood-covered boyfriend.

“Simon, I said I don’t wanna hear it,” Jack groaned in response. He was not in the mood for Simon’s fussing, and wanted nothing more than to just replace the bandages, put on a clean t-shirt, and go to bed…

“Jack—!”

“Don’t worry about it…” Bright dismissed as he tossed his keys and lanyard onto the table, undoing his tie and wincing as another sharp wave of pain hit him.

“Oh. Right. Yeah,” Glass replied in disbelief, his tone somehow managing to convey both sarcasm and utter panic. “There’s absolutely nothing to worry about here!”

“Simon. Really…” Bright groaned, both out of frustration and pain. “It’s fine…”

“Oh, sure looks it, Jack,” Glass replied, hastily gathering his papers into a pile and standing from his spot at the table.

Simon vanished into the bathroom and Jack could hear him rifling around through the cabinet for the first-aid kit… a lot of good that will do him, Jack thought bitterly.

“I’m too tired for this,” Jack muttered loudly. “Just let me go to bed—”

“Oh, so you can bleed to death?” Glass piped up, still digging around in the disorganized mess that was his cabinets.

“I’m not going to bleed to death.”

Jack heard Simon’s rummaging abruptly stop for a moment, and despite being in a completely separate room, Bright could practically feel the incredulous glare Simon was giving him right now. Simon muttered something under his breath and continued his search.

“…and so what if I do!?” Jack shouted back. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve bled out…! and sure as hell won’t be the last!”

Simon reentered the kitchen, having finally found the first-aid kit, and still refusing to give Bright’s previous comments any form of response. He grabbed the chair that he had been sitting in and loudly dragged it across the kitchen floor — Jack wincing at the harsh sound.

“You know, Si, those downstairs neighbors are probably loving you right now…” he remarked.

“Sit.”

“…You’re being absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

“Sit.”

“Simon, just give me the bandages, I can do this mysel—”

“Jack Bright, sit your arse down in this chair, or so help me god—!”

“Damn, Si, look at you — taking charge like that,” Jack teased, his voice still having that sharp edge to it, once again refusing to acknowledge any of the severity of this situation. “…Keep talkin’ to me like that, and you’re gonna make me act up—”

Bright had enough sense to cut his statement short when he was met with that frustrated exhaustion in Simon’s eyes. He dropped his inappropriate comment and shook his head.

“Si, really… the only one working themself up about this is you,” Jack hissed, but nevertheless, he finally sat down.

Simon’s expression was still pressed in a tight frown as he muttered a tired “thank you…” turning and placing the plastic kit on the table, pulling out the supplies he needed.

Bright rolled his eyes as Glass returned, clearly trying his hardest to get a good look at the wound despite Jack being in no way helpful.

“Jack, would you just hold still—?”

“I am holding still—!”

“Well quit moving your shoulder th—!”

“Ow! Simon, that fucking hurts!”

“Jack, I can’t even see what I’m trying to work with—! Would you just—? Jack, just—!”

Glass exhaled a growl of frustration. Since Bright was clearly not about to make things any less difficult, he decided it was necessary to take matters in his own hands. He immediately began fumbling with the collar of Jack’s shirt, roughly undoing the buttons.

Bright’s grumbling quickly turned to a shout, and now it was his turn to raise his voice in concern.

“Hey — careful! Jesus, Simon, careful!” Jack snapped, throwing one hand over his amulet, the other snatching Simon’s wrist and roughly yanking it away before his hand could get any closer to the pendant than it already was. “Fuck, Si, would you just wait a fucking second?! I already feel like my shoulder’s been beaten to absolute hell, I don’t need you dying on top of everything else!” he screamed.

Simon flinched backwards, clearly startled both by Jack’s outburst and the realization of how close he’d come to accidentally touching the amulet. “I- I’m—!” Glass began unsteadily. “Jack, I’m sorry…!”

Jack stayed like that for a moment while he waited for his heart to stop pounding, Simon still staring down at him with that deer-in-headlights expression.

Finally, he sighed, letting go of Simon’s wrist and watching as the psychiatrist immediately drew his arm back, guarding it against his chest and unconsciously rubbing at the spot where Jack’s grip had been the tightest. There was another moment where their eyes met, and both of them decided to soften their demeanor…

“I’m sorry,” Simon mumbled again, backing off just a bit, but still unable to stop staring at Jack’s bloodied shoulder with concern.

He really wasn’t about to let this go, was he?

Bright weighed his options. The irritation of having Glass attempt to patch up his shoulder was decidedly not even close to being greater than the utter devastation that would come with Simon inadvertently killing himself — or worse — because Jack refused cooperate and Glass once again ends up getting a little too close to his amulet…

Another sigh as Jack undid the remainder of his buttons as best as he could with his one uninjured arm, allowing Simon to easily reach his shoulder. He sat back down and twisted the amulet behind his back, slipping it beneath the back of his half-unbuttoned shirt.

“There you go,” he said, still not overly enthused with this whole ordeal, but willing to bite the bullet if it meant just getting this over with so he can go to bed. “Have at it, doc.”

Simon’s expression was much softer than it had been just minutes prior. He stepped back up to Jack, first carefully taking in the scene, and then delicately beginning to remove the old bandages.

Bright cringed a little at the way they clung to the wound, and at the growing pile of blood-soaked gauze and tape that was accumulating beside him as Glass continued to peel them away.

“Christ, Jack… this looks bad…” Simon exhaled, gently dabbing some of the excess blood away with a damp rag.

Bright only hummed in agreement. To be completely honest, even he hadn’t really seen the full extent of his injury — he saw a lot of blood and he taped himself up with gauze until he couldn’t see it anymore — problem solved!

…But now he was beginning to see the jagged gashes where claws met skin. He didn’t exactly enjoy looking at it, but he continued to stare, as it was better than having to look at the worry in Simon’s eyes.

“This... might sting a tiny bit...”

A tiny bit proved to be an understatement. Jack sucked in a sharp hiss and dug his fingers into the arm of the kitchen chair the moment the antiseptic soaked cotton touched the wound.

“Sorry...” Glass whispered, still carefully dabbing the gauze around the gashes. “So sorry... Just a little more, Jack. It’s almost done, I promise.”

“Yeah…” Jack said through gritted teeth. “Whatever you say, Si…”

Simon worked with diligence, cleaning the wound with a delicate touch, methodically bandaging as he went. He managed to get most of the superficial cuts to stop bleeding using butterfly bandages, but it was becoming obvious to Jack that the worst of it needed sutures…

It was clearly obvious to Simon as well, who apprehensively bit his lip, looking from the wound to meet Jack’s eyes.

Jack sighed and shook his head. “Go for it, Si…”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“Whatever.”

Jack didn’t watch as Simon threaded the needle, he didn’t watch as he carefully examined the gash… but he definitely took in another little hiss of pain as the first stitch was made.

“Sorry, Jack…” Simon whispered.

“To be honest,” Jack gritted out again. “That fucking antiseptic was worse.”

As Glass continued to stitch up his shoulder, Jack once again found himself unable to look away, but now for a different reason. It always sort of amazed him when Simon did stuff like this. Granted, he’s only ever really seen it once — Jack had accidentally gotten his palm with a kitchen knife when he was washing dishes — but still, it amazed him. Glass worked with such exactness that, if he hadn’t known any better, Jack might’ve believed that he did it on a daily basis. He could tell by the meticulousness of it that this was no doubt a skill Simon acquired in medical school and perfected in his years as a field agent.

But, what Bright perhaps found the most shocking was how gentle Simon always was with him. No matter how much of a fight Jack put up, Glass remained delicate when it came to actually working on him. He’d whisper apologies after every wince or hiss of pain. He’d put such a high level of precision and care into his actions — when most everyone else at the Foundation (Bright included) would deem it unnecessary in the long run.

If Jack couldn’t truly die, then why bother putting in so much effort to save him? Why waste the time, skills, and material on keeping him comfortable?

But Glass… he always did. He’d care for him when he was sick. He’d tend to minor injuries no differently than to major ones. He’d sit by Jack’s side for anything.

But that was just a part of Simon’s nature, he supposed — to comfort. It was why he advanced so easily in his field. It was why the word “soft” was so frequently hurled at him like an insult.

And that softness was clear with the precise way he finished the last of the stitches… the way he gently cleaned away the residual blood… the careful way he bandaged his shoulder…

“Simon…?” Jack asked, watching as Glass finished up with the final bandages.

“Hmm?”

“Why do you do this?”

“Why do I do what?”

“Care so damn much,” Jack replied with a snort, although the heavy sincerity of the question still lingered in the background.

“About?”

“Me.”

“Why do I care when the person I love is severely injured? Is that really what you’re asking me right now, Jack?”

“You know what I mean,” Bright replied, rolling his eyes, only deciding to elaborate on that further after several moments of Glass doing nothing but staring at him incredulously. “I can’t die — not really — so, like, why put in all the effort, y’know?”

“Except you can die, Jack,” Simon replied. “…As you so frequently do. The only difference is that you don’t stay dead—”

“But is that really that different?”

“Yes, Jack!” Glass replied, the disbelief audibly rising in his voice, as if Bright were missing some point that was glaringly obvious to him. “Some may argue that it’s worse!”

Jack only rolled his eyes, prompting Simon to elaborate further.

“You aren’t invulnerable, Jack,” he continued. “You aren’t immune to feeling pain — in fact, you have felt such an immense level of pain, on numerous occasions, that a person should only have the capability to feel once, if ever, in their lifetime… You’ve experienced your own death, Jack. Over and over… And perhaps you’ve just become numb to it — or you like to claim that you have — maybe everybody else in this damned Foundation has as well—”

“Because it still isn’t the same as actually dying, Simon—” Jack butted in before Glass could cut him off again.

“Alright,” he replied. “Maybe it isn’t. But why does that mean that you don’t deserve to be treated with the same level of compassion as anybody else?”

Jack bit down on his lip, refusing to meet Simon’s eyes… he hated when Glass had a point on topics like this.

“Alright,” Simon continued, keeping his voice gentle. “The other month, when I came home feeling sick — you stayed awake with me—”

“Simon, that isn’t the same thing!”

“But was I dying, Jack?” Simon asked without so much as missing a beat, his tone rising with pretend disbelief. “Was I so critically ill that someone needed to waste their time on me? It was just a stomach flu — nothing serious, there’s nothing anybody needs to do for that except wait it out… why waste the effort, taking care of someone who was just going to get better on their own in 24 hours? Hm?”

Bright had gone right back to avoiding Simon’s eyes, this time going as far as to avoid looking at him all together.

“Simon, it’s…”

Glass sighed, letting his expression soften once more, losing the sarcastic edge to his voice.

“It’s what, Jack?” he asked softly, attempting to finish the sentence that Bright had given up on. “It’s not the same thing?”

Jack’s mouth was pressed in a tight frown as he turned his eyes to the floor, still unwilling to admit his ‘defeat’.

And, with a gentle, sincere expression, Glass finished his (albeit, mostly one-sided) argument.

“I love you, Jack…” he said. “I love you… and I hate seeing you hurt…”

Bright finally opened his mouth to respond, only to shake his head and close it wordlessly when he couldn’t find the proper thing to say. There was nothing he could say to disprove that final statement, and he knew that. He could feel the beginnings of tears prickling at his eyes… and he knew he was going to have a tough time trying to pass it off as still being caused by the sting of that stupid antiseptic.

That shield he put up was cracking, and Jack hated putting the vulnerability that lied beneath it on display. So, instead, he only leaned forward, gently bunting his head against Simon’s chest, burying his face in the soft, warm fabric of his shirt.

“I know, Jack…” Simon whispered softly, running his fingers through the back of Bright’s hair.

Jack took in a bit of a stuttering breath, letting the tears finally slip from his eyes and pressing his face harder against Simon’s chest. He couldn’t explain it with words — he never properly could — why there was something about Simon Glass that just felt so… right…?

Jack had never been good with feelings. And right then, he was swept up in such a powerful wave of different emotions that, for a moment, he thought he may drown.

He had come to believe that kindness almost always came with some sort of strings attached… but not with Glass.

Never with Glass.

He felt loved — so genuinely loved — that, at times, it almost overwhelmed him because of how unused to it he was.

So Jack held onto that feeling, staying there a moment longer, breathing in Simon’s warmth and feeling that gentle rise and fall of his chest. Until finally, he managed to gather enough composure to speak.

And, naturally, in true Jack Bright fashion, he attempted to change the subject entirely — anything to deflect from the fact he’d just been crying.

“You’ve got the hands of a surgeon, you know that?” he remarked, looking back down to his shoulder, trying to pull back up his cool, detached facade… although his voice was still a little unsteady and his sentence ended with a bit of a wet sniffle. “…Or maybe a painter. Ever think you might’ve gone into the wrong profession?”

He knew Simon had to see right through this pathetic attempt at a diversion as well, but he went along with it anyway.

“Don’t think I could handle the pressure of being a surgeon,” Glass replied softly. “Stitching someone up is one thing… don’t quite think I have the stomach for cutting someone apart.”

“So you settled for just taking apart their minds, then?” Bright teased, exhaling in what was half a laugh and half a choked, hiccup-y sort of sound.

“What can I say,” he replied lightly, turning and cleaning up his supplies. “Much less blood.”

Jack exhaled another quiet laugh and Simon couldn’t help but smile, and somehow, just seeing that made Bright feel warm inside.

His mind pulling him back to that unexplainable way that Simon just made him feel right.

Because there was just something about Simon Glass.

Something about those warm grey eyes and gentle smile that made Jack feel so at home.

Something about that open, deliberate way he expressed his love that made Jack truly believe that he deserved this… That this wasn’t a mistake. That this was what it felt like to be loved on purpose.

And Jack, despite years and years of denying himself the right to feel this sort of feeling…

He loved Simon right back.

-

-

✨send me a prompt?✨

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Cariño (Part 3) Jake Lockley X F!Reader

Cariño Masterlist

Rating:18+ (this chapter is clean, but it’s gonna get a bit steamy later on!)

Warnings: Typos (gotta have some typos), slimy man.

A/N: Oh wow, did this chapter cause me problems or did this chapter cause me problems. I have rewritten it twice. Please let me know if you think I have missed a warning!

Summary: “And that’s why we don’t bring twenty two million dollar cars with us on a job.”

You're in. Just a short wait before the heist can begin, surely it's got to be plan sailing from here?

Word Count: 3000

Tagging: @pleasurebuttonwrites

Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

_______________________________

The car was not what you were expecting. Scratch that, it wasn’t what you were hoping. In the elevator ride and walk through the lobby you had prayed that Jake at least had the forethought to bring a vehicle that was subtle. Subdued. Something that wouldn’t catch anyone’s attention for more than a few moments. 

It was a pristine white Aston Martin, vintage by the look of it – though you weren’t an expert on cars – with a vanity plate that read, ‘SPKTR’.

You stared dumbfounded at it as Jake moved forward and opened the passenger door for you. He grinned wickedly. 

Words weren’t forming easily. “Jake, this is… This,” you gestured to the car. “We- we are meant to be keeping a low profile.”

“But we’re meant to fit in, right?” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’m a big-time investor with old money.” He quoted your own words back to you with glee. “Surely a lesser vehicle would be beneath me?”

You opened your mouth to speak as he took a step towards you and leaned in close until you were almost touching.

“I’m just playing my part.” His voice was barely above a whisper, low and velvety. 

A shiver ran along your skin, heat pooling. He was so close, his eyes blinding and too painful to look at. You stared at his lips, his cupid’s bow. Perhaps that was worse. 

You swallowed, the sound of it upsettingly loud. 

Jake bit his bottom lip and grinned as he stepped back, still holding the passenger side door for you. 

“Okay.” You said, meaning the word to sound authoritative, strict. But it came out as almost a squeak. You didn’t look at him as you sat and Jake made sure you were sitting comfortably before he swung the door close and got into the driver’s seat.

You hated to admit that the car was equally nice on the inside than it was on the outside. 

“This is the only thing,” he said, looking at you before he started the car. “I promise.”

“You said that before-”

“That was about the car.” He held out his hand, nearly close enough to brush his fingertips over your bare shoulder. “So is this.”

“That was about bringing a car.”

“Cariño.” He practically purred, glazing at you while you stared straight ahead. 

“It’s fine.” You didn’t sound very convincing, but he grinned anyway as he started the engine and peeled away from the curb. The growing darkness of the night sky was soothing. 

You checked your bag, making sure everything you needed was in it despite that face that you already knew it was, and shifted to a more comfortable position in your seat. 

“Everything is going to be fine.” He gave you a glance from under his eyelashes when you looked up at him. 

You paused. Unsure of what to say, the urge to snap something back at him died in your throat as you got snared in his gaze. You shook your head, a flush of heat rising embarrassingly to your cheeks, and went back to staring straight ahead. 

It only took a beat for a frown to form on your face. “Do you know where we’re going?” 

“Of course.” 

Your frown deepened. The route was a little complicated and you couldn’t resist prying. “Been here before?”

“Nope.” 

You paused and double checked the dashboard. “No Sat Nav?”

“Don’t need.”

“How come?” 

He looked at you again, one hand on the wheel and elbow resting on the car door. “I’m a taxi driver. We just need to look at the map once,” he taped his temple. “It’s second nature.” 

You scoffed. Jake was certainly not a cabbie. “If you think I’ll believe that Lockley, you must thing I’ll believe anything.”

Jake chuckled to himself, the sound quiet and far away, like the light of distant stars. 

He sounded the most like himself, or at least the self you were used to; the self that knocked on your front door with a job, quiet and with sharp eyes, than he had since he met you in the hotel room. 

You snuck a look at him while he drove, the streetlamp light illuminating his profile before it dimmed and repeated the process. 

The gentle rumble of the engine would have been soothing if you hadn’t been quite so on edge. You ran your thumbnail over your bottom teeth, almost daring yourself to bite, in an effort to calm yourself ever so slightly. 

“Do you remember the plan?” You ask, without realising you had spoken out loud at first. 

“Of course.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road. 

There was a pause.

“Can I ask you a question?”

The tiniest upwards pull of his lips was illuminated briefly. “I will resist the urge to say, ‘you already have.’”

You let out a short laugh and shifted in your seat again, leaning your head to the side to stare out of the passenger side window. The buildings were slowly beginning to give way into farmland. You pinched your nail between your teeth, held it there, but did not bite through. 

“What did you want to ask?” 

It was easier not to look at him. It was always easier not to look at him. “You’re different.” 

“Hm?”

Your reflection looked back at you through the glass. This was stupid. 

“You seem different.”

Jake let out a low laugh again. “I told you cariño,” he waited until you looked back at him before he continued. “I’m playing my part.” He held your gaze for a second too long before looking back to the road. “Old money investor. Just getting into character.” 

You smiled without feeling any of the joy. Of course that was it. And swallowed. Of course it was. 

You drove the rest of the journey in silence. It wasn’t necessarily a comfortable one, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either. 

After a while you had shut your eyes to the outside world whizzing past, telling yourself it was the motion that was making your stomach churn. 

Jake slowed as he approached the gates; grand painted cast iron things that glowed from the ground lights beneath, stretches of high, slightly over the top you would say, immaculately manicured bushes framed the sides. 

Jake whistled and came to a stop by the guard’s house just before it. Two smartly dressed men, obviously security, approached his door as he wound the window down. 

One of them held a tablet, the low light of it gave the guard’s face a sickly glow. 

“Good Evening Sir,” he nodded to Jake before turning to you, “Miss.” You nodded back at him.

“Good Evening,” Jake echoed, holding out his hand to you without taking his eyes off of the guards. 

You passed your invitations out of your bag to him and he held them out to the guards languidly, gripping the thick card tightly between his fore and middle finger. 

“Jake Kealey,” he said his fake name – you thought it was funny – “and Evelyn Davis.” 

The first man briefly looked at the invitations while the other checked your names on the tablet and nodded. 

“Welcome to the Malay Estate, please enjoy the party.” 

“Thank you.” 

Jake drove in smoothly as the gate opened. 

“I don’t know why you have a fictitious first and last name,” he paused a little for effect. “While I only have a fake last name.” 

“I thought it would be easier.”

“Hm?”

“For you to answer to your real name.”

“I think I could have handled it.”

“I don’t know.” It was your turn to pause for effect. “You’re not so good at following instructions.” 

The tease earned you a smile and a click of his tongue, a promise that he would get you back for that later.

You checked your phone, scanned for the security system and smiled. There was something so wonderful about modern technology. If they had still been using old cameras and tapes this would have all been a lot more complicated. Part of you had even worried that this was going to be the thing that went wrong, that your information had been out of date. But it was exactly as you had planned. 

The camera system was computer based, and connected to the WIFI with a very poor five digit password. Someone had missed out on their online safety training. But you had to give them credit for the strength of the internet signal.

You connected to the system and activated the jammer – it wouldn’t stop the cameras, that would cause too much suspicion and you knew that they still had actual guards watching the live feed. However it would stop them from recording. 

Quickly, you scanned through the cameras. Everything was as you had expected, all in the same rooms and same positions. You selected the cameras that lead to the direct route to the room where the ankh was being held, all of them empty of people and hit record on your external system. You just needed enough footage of nothing happening to overlay on the live feed later. That way you and Jake wouldn’t be seen by the guards watching either. 

 The mansion, even though you had committed its layout and schematics to memory, was nonetheless as impressive and imposing in real life. 

Jake whistled as you drove closer. ���Fancy.” His tone was off hand but there was a clear echo of disdain beneath it. 

“Blood money.” You muttered. 

He turned to you, eyes dark as he parked in front of the valet. “What money doesn’t have blood on it?” He held your gaze for a beat too long before he opened his door, and you were left uncertain on whether his scrutiny was on you, or internal. 

There were so many people milling around outside and inside already. The melodies of the live music mixed in with the countless conversations instead of being completely drowned out, the sound was a little overwhelming to say the least and you were thankful when Jake offered you his arm again as you both walked in through the grand entrance. 

“I only need about thirty minutes before we can start, okay?” You whisper to Jake, leaning slightly towards him. 

He smiled, his tongue between his teeth. “I know cariño,” he gave you a side eye look, “you’ve told me so many times already.” 

You resisted the urge to react to his teasing. Just.

You were both barely in through the door, the massive marble staircase before you, the chandelier catching your attention for a moment too long, when a man appeared in front of your path. 

“You,” he gestured to Jake with his hand that isn’t holding a glass of champagne. 

You tense for a moment, this is it. The thing that goes wrong. Someone knew him, someone-  

The man breaks into a smile, “you’re the owner of that car out there aren’t you?” 

“I’m sure there are lots of vehicles out there.” Jake drawls, calm and composed, all self assured swagger. 

The man laughed heartily, “there sure are! But I’m talking about the DB1 Aston Martin, beautiful thing!”

Jake gives him a dismissive head tilt, and smiles.

“I knew it! I knew it!” The man takes a step closer, completely ignoring you. “How did you get hold of one? I mean, only fifteen were ever sold!”

You were going to faint. You were going to kill Jake. 

He shrugged. “It’s been in the family for a while.”

The man nodded enthusiastically while taking a large gulp of his drink. “I understand, I imagine you’d never sell it, even if I did have a spare $22 million hanging around?” 

Your grip on Jake’s arm tightened to what was most likely, a painful degree. 

Jake laughed politely. “No, I’d never sell it.”

“Good man, good man! I’m Rick White,” he held out his hand. 

“Jake Kealey.” He shook it firmly.

“And who is this lovely creature?” Rick breathed, as if he was only just noticing you. You managed to resist the urge to wrinkle your nose, and kept your polite smile plastered to your face like it was an Olympic sport. 

“Evelyn Davis,” you held out your hand, rather begrudgingly. “I’m Mr Kealey’s PA.”

“PA!” He exclaimed, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your knuckles. His skin was damp and unsettlingly cool. 

Jake flinched as Rick’s mouth touched your skin, a small thing, but undeniable. 

The man didn’t let go of your hand straight away. He held it close to his chest and brought up his other hand to rest over the top of it. The sensation was like centipedes crawling up your spine, the urge to swat him away, to wipe his spittle from your skin was nearly undeniable.

“I was sure you would be Me Kealey’s date, not his PA, though I am sure,” he leaned a little closer, pulling your arm towards himself as he did so, “you’re an exceptional PA.”

Oh, this Rick White sure was a swell guy, you sure would be sad if that grand chandelier decided to come loose on his head. 

You didn’t see Jake grit his jaw, but did feel as he moved his arm, your hand leaving the safety of his bicep. 

There was no time to lament the loss of contact however, he swiftly moved closer to you, his arm around your shoulder and resting his hand on your hip. 

His touch light but sure of itself, unmistakable and warm. A flush of heat ran up your neck as you fought the urge to lean into it. 

Jake firmly gripped Rick White’s shoulder with his other hand, a friendly smile plastered to his face that did not touch his eyes. “She is.” 

There was a heartbeat of a second before Rick laughed, thankfully letting go of your hand which you wiped on the side of your dress as discreetly as possible. 

“Come, have a drink with me and my associates!” He gestured to the side, through the nearest door. 

Jake glanced at you, but Rick didn’t leave you a moment to decline. He moved quickly, this time taking Jake by the shoulder and trying to guide both of you into the previously mentioned room. 

Jake tensed further, his free right hand clenching into a fist at his side. If he gritted his jaw any harder he was sure to crack a tooth. 

“We’d love to, of course,” you quickly said, moving to put your hand on Rick’s forearm to stop him from pulling Jake anymore. (And from most likely getting a smack in the face for his efforts.) “Of course we would, but we just have to meet someone first, a small bit of business to get out of the way before we can relax.”

You hated the way Rick’s attention was enwrapped with you, his eyes a little red and glassy. Jake’s grip on your hip tightened, bordering on painful.

“Business before pleasure, I’m afraid.” You added, somehow managing to keep up your tight smile. 

“I can’t tempt you with just one drink first?” 

Oh man, this guy wouldn’t let up.

“It really can’t wait, sadly.” 

“It can’t.” Jake added, voice low and dangerous. 

“Shame!” Rick lamented loudly, obviously a little too drunk to read the barely surface level threat. “Well, I simply must-”

“We’ll just sort everything out and then catch up with you,” you grabbed Jake’s hand and started to move in the opposite direction of where Rick had been trying to lead you. “Later!” You added quickly before disappearing into the crowd of guests. 

You didn’t relax until you’d left the main hall, quickly leading Jake out on the labyrinth of rooms, stuffed with people and artworks that were probably worth more than your life, and out the back into the grounds and gardens. 

It was busy out here too, but the air was cooler now, the sun completely set. 

You breathed deeply and looked out over the garden, at the lights and set up bars and live music, at the guests dancing and talking in groups, even further out to the dark grounds beyond them. 

It was only then that you realised you were still holding Jake’s hand. Another flush of heat ran up your neck and you quickly let go as if you’d been burnt.

“And that’s why we don’t bring twenty two million dollar cars with us on a job.” You said teasingly, giving him a smile and trying to cover your sudden blush. 

He didn’t joke back, still tense and simply nodded once. 

A pang of guilt clawed at your throat. “Jake,” you said softly and moved closer to him, just nudging your shoulder against his arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“No, you’re right, cariño. I shouldn’t have brought it.” 

You swallowed. “But then I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of you driving me around?” You gave him a hopeful look and, after a moment, he gave you a small smile. It was like being blessed with the first sign of the sun after a long rain. 

Without really thinking you touched his arm lightly with the very tips of your fingers, “besides, something always has to go wrong. I’ll take an annoyingly slimy man kissing my hand over a smack to my face any day.” 

Jake snorted but you saw his line of sight dart to your face. The bruises were still there, lingering under the makeup. 

“Come on,” you took his arm again and began to lead him down the brick steps towards one of the many bars. “Let’s get you a drink.”

You walked in silence for a moment before Jake spoke. “Trying to get me drunk cariño?” You gave him a look, but would be lying if you said you preferred his reserved tone over his teasing. 

“Yes actually.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“I want a go driving that car of yours.” 

Jake laughed loudly. It was the most beautiful sound in the world.

[clareguilty]

Arthur Morgan/fem!Reader, A/B/O Smut

Happy belated birthday to @peachofwork <3 ily bb! And y'all should all go check out her fics!

I'm replaying RDR2 which means we are back in Colter once more. Please let me know what you think! <3

Arthur Morgan/f!reader | a/b/o and the inherent dubcon therein Rating: Explicit, believe me Word Count: ~3000

Davey was dying. 

Mac and Sean were gone and Jenny was dead and the job had gone wrong and now the gang was on the run.

You hadn’t thought much of it when Dutch started leading everyone North, but now the wagon was rolling through snow drifts taller than you and the wind was biting and bitter even beneath your heavy shawl. The caravan was chaos around you, shouting and crying, the crunch of snow and the creak of the wagons. You were curled into the corner of one of the wagon beds, trying to keep your teeth from chattering out of your skull. Your skin was hot against the freezing air, sweat turning to frost and breath like hot steam in the dark.

Distant shouts carried over the deafening wind, and a few moments later you heard the excited chatter of the girls crowded around the lantern. The men had found a place to stay.

The wind and ice were enough to mask your scent for now, but you knew you would have to find somewhere isolated to ride out the rest of your heat.

It was quite possibly the worst timing you had ever experienced. You had felt the beginnings of the fever just as the men rode out for the job in Blackwater, and by the time they thundered back into camp and ordered everyone to pack up you were weak and hardly able to walk.

The blizzard had been a blessing and a curse. The cold kept your fever at bay mostly and the wind did a good job of hiding your heat from the others, but you would have a hard time surviving the next few days without shelter and a way to keep warm.

You knew it was ridiculous, but you wanted Arthur. Of all the alphas in the gang, he was the only one you trusted to take care of you. He had always been there for you no matter what, teaching you how to shoot, taking you out on rides, looking after you whenever you went into town.

He wasn’t your alpha, but you wanted him to be. You weren’t even sure he saw anything in you. Still, you hated that you hadn’t even seen him since he and Hosea rode out for that job. And now he was out there in the snow, protecting the gang as he always had.

Everyone else filed into the desolate, abandoned mining town. Dutch was shouting orders above the wind, and you stayed curled in the bed of the wagon. You would only be more trouble right now, with Davey dead and everyone trying to get warm and Dutch and Arthur riding out again.

You pulled as many furs and blankets and tarps over yourself as you could find, curling in as small as possible and hiding in the shadows of the wagon as everyone moved around you. It was so hectic nobody had even noticed your absence.

Things fell quiet and then loud once more as Arthur, Dutch, and Micah returned. There were many overlapping voices that you couldn’t make out until you heard your own name.

Tilly. She had noticed you were missing and was begging the others to help look for you.

You barely had the strength to crawl out from beneath your makeshift shelter, but you forced your way into the dark and cold to at least reassure the gang that you were alright.

The snow tripped you on your first step, and you fell face first into the ice. Tilly was shouting for you, and you tried to return her call. It wasn’t very far, you just needed to make it to the orange glow of the lanterns.

“I’m here!” you yelled. 

“That sounds like her.” Arthur’s voice. “I think she’s over by the wagons. I can try and catch her scent.”

You heard the crunch of his boots in the snow and your skin began to burn again at the realization that Arthur, an alpha, was going to find you like this. Weak and in heat, crawling through the snow.

“Woah!” One of his boots sank into the snow inches from your face. “Nearly stepped on you.” He crouched in the snow to try and help you up. “What are you doing out here like this?”

His question was answered the moment he pulled you to your feet. He wrinkled his nose and frowned as your scent reached him. “Oh, you poor thing.” He tried to keep as much distance as possible between you as he pulled you back through the snow, but you dug your fingers in his snow covered coat.

“Please,” you mumbled, not sure what you were even asking for.

He seemed to take pity on you, pulling you into his chest beneath his coat and brushing the snow out of your hair. His scent was strong beneath the wool, and you couldn’t help but breathe it in. Every inhale both soothed you and stoked the fire that was burning beneath your skin. “I know, Arthur said. “We’ll get you put up somewhere safe.”

You weren’t sure where that could be in a town that looked to have four buildings left standing, but you trusted him.

You heard Tilly’s relieved gasp when she caught sight of you buried in Arthur’s coat. He explained the situation to her and sent her off to find Miss Grimshaw. Arthur never pushed you away, so you continued to sap his warmth and surround yourself in his scent.

The problem came when Miss Grimshaw said that they had nowhere to keep you. Nowhere that would be both safe and warm enough to get you through your heat. There were too many alphas in the gang that couldn’t be trusted.

“She could take my room,” Arthur offered. “Hosea and I could keep an eye out for her at least.”

No one had any objections, especially not you when Arthur leaned in close to ask you if you would trust him enough to do that.

He held you protectively against him until you were safe inside the room Grimshaw had assigned him. Some of his belongings had already been unpacked, and you longed to surround yourself in his scent.

“You’re too damn cold to be anywhere without a fire.” Arthur watched you fight your chattering teeth as you curled up on the rickety bed.

Despite your shivering, you didn’t feel cold in the slightest. Your pulse was racing, and you felt too warm in your coat and shawl. He rushed forward as you began undoing the fastens on your coat, grabbing your wrists and holding them still. “Woah there,” he chuckled. “I can’t imagine what’s happening to you right now, but that don’t seem like a good idea to me.”

“Please,” you whined. “Need you so bad.”

Arthur’s jaw tensed. He had shown an amazing amount of restraint even this far, trying to keep his distance no matter how enticing you smelled. You knew you were testing his resolve like this, and you desperately wanted to see it break.

You leaned into him, breathing in his scent and dragging your nose and mouth across the thin fabric of his shirt. His scent made your vision go white and you whined involuntarily. “Need to be bred,” you babbled. “Need to be knotted. Want you so bad.”

Arthur choked off a groan. “I can’t do that, sweetheart. You’re not in the right mind to be making decisions like this. The last thing I’d want is to hurt you.”

“It’s okay if it hurts,” you murmured. “Just wanna be full.”

Arthur threw you off of him and onto the bed, but the display of strength only worsened the ache between your thighs. You were now free to shrug out of your coat, fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. He looked tortured, clearly trying to maintain control even as you begged for his knot.

He didn’t move, and your desire turned to frustration that an alpha was right there ignoring your scent and your begging.

Barely dressed, you pushed to your feet on wobbly knees. “Someone else will do it,” you huffed, words practically slurred from the combination of hypothermia and heat.

Before you could even take a step, you were pinned face down on the bed, Arthur’s full weight on top of you as he growled. “Like hell they will.”

It was exactly what you wanted. Arthur yanked your chemise off your shoulders so he could nose along your neck and collarbone. “Why do you smell so damn good? Irresistible.”

You couldn’t move, completely at his mercy as he ground his hips against your ass. There were too many clothes between you for the friction to mean anything, and Arthur immediately began undressing you.

“Can smell how wet you are,” he said. “How much you need my knot.”

“Please,” you begged. 

“Don’t worry,” he dragged his teeth across your skin and you moaned. “I’m going to fill you up good.”

He kept you trapped beneath him, possessive after your threat of finding another alpha. You didn’t mind at all. The closeness and the weight and the scent of him appeased your heat in a way that only an alpha could. The ache subsided, but the desperation only grew. 

One of his hands slipped between where your bodies were pressed together, shoving between your thighs so he could drench his fingers in the wetness pooling there. You moaned as the rough callouses brushed your already aching and sensitive clit.

“That’s right.” His beard tickled the skin of your neck and you squirmed beneath him. “I’ve got you.”

He stroked you with thick fingers but never pressed inside where you truly needed him. He knew he was teasing you, working you up and sending you deeper and deeper into the throes of your heat. You couldn’t even find the words you needed to beg, just whining and grinding back against his hand.

When he finally did slip two fingers inside of you, you nearly came from the stretch alone. He pinned your hips in place with his other hand and stayed perfectly still until you came down from the rush. You would have whined in protest if it weren’t for his teeth lightly scraping just over your collarbone, forcing you into submission beneath him.

“I only want you to come on my cock,” he warned you. You knew your body would obey.

Still, it was torment. He worked you open on two fingers, and then three. You knew you would be able to take his cock, but you weren’t sure about his knot.

The scrape of denim as he finally freed his cock from his trousers had you clenching around his thick knuckles, and he chuckled at the sensation. “You’re going to feel so good around my knot. So tight.”

It was the only thing you could think about, and you were pliant and easy as he lifted your hips up to get your knees under you. The sight must have done something for him, because he groaned low in his throat and ran his palms over your ass and thighs almost reverently.

A few more seconds of anticipation before Arthur’s cock was resting against your ass. He ran his length against the slick that was dripping down your thighs, stroking himself to make sure he wouldn’t hurt you before finally pressing the head of his cock into you.

This time you truly couldn’t help yourself. You came with a shuddering gasp and rocked your hips back to take more of his length. His hands found you waist, and he began fucking you slow and deep through your orgasm. You couldn’t help but whimper every time the swell of his knot threatened to slip inside. The stretch was painful, but you wanted to be filled more than anything else in that moment.

Arthur, with his unshakeable control, was able to fight his every instinct that was begging to knot you right then and there. He loved the way you moaned at every thrust, his cock somehow hitting the perfect spot each time. You were so far into your heat that the bliss had just rolled into one long ecstasy, and he wanted to draw it out as long as possible for you. You came again and again on his cock, dripping with arousal and tightening around him as the most beautiful sounds tumbled past your lips.

Not to mention you felt absolutely perfect on his cock, and he was savoring every second. He had been achingly hard since the moment he first smelled you but had never dreamed that he would be able to have you like this. God, he should have known your heat was coming on before he and Hosea left for that job in Blackwater. You had looked beautiful in the dawn, flushed from fever and breath fogging in the morning air. Arthur had watched you cradle your cup of coffee as you breathed in the scent of the prairie. He had followed suit only to catch a trace of your scent on the wind. It had made his stomach flip.

And now he was buried inside you, pulling you deeper onto his cock with every thrust and trying his best to stave off the tightening at the bottom of his stomach. He wasn’t sure if you could come again just like this, but he wanted to try.

You fisted your fingers into the cold blanket beneath you and let your eyes flutter shut. You never wanted it to end. You wanted him to hurry up and knot you. Surely he could only last so long like this?

He wasn’t able to pull another orgasm from you before his instincts won over and he pulled your hips to his. You cried out as his knot stretched you open even more around him, shaking as he ground his hips against you until he was fully seated inside. He was deeper than before, and you were so full and fucked that you couldn’t help but come again around his knot.

That was all it took to send Arthur over the edge as well, and he rocked against you as his cock twitched and pulsed. Your knees gave out, and he sank back on top of you, pinning you back against the bed and breeding you full as you lay panting and delirious from the rush.

Arthur first rolled you onto your side. One of his arms wrapped around your middle, and he ran his hand over your stomach where he was locked inside of you. You appreciated the way he nosed along your neck and shoulder, marking you with his scent and breathing in your own. 

Just as his knot started to go down, he rolled onto his back so you were laying on his chest. He raised his knees until your thighs fell to either side and rocked up into you with more strength than you were prepared for. It was too much to handle, oversensitive after coming on his cock so many times already, but he didn’t seem to care at all. In fact, your pitiful whimpers only seemed to spur him on and he kissed and sucked at your neck as he let his instincts take over, driving him into you again and again as his seed spilled out across his thighs. What finally managed to send you over the edge one last time was his lips locked onto the junction of your neck and shoulder. He didn’t bite down -- wouldn’t do that without asking you -- instead he sucked the skin between his teeth, sure to leave dark, splotchy marks that would let everyone know an alpha had taken you.

You shook in his arms, hips twitching of their own accord and every muscle in your body seeming to tense at random. The rotting wood and dark shadows of the rundown room had faded away to a blinding white. You had never experienced pleasure like this.

Arthur couldn’t knot you again so soon, but you felt his cock grow harder as he spilled inside you once more.

Reason finally seemed to catch up with him, and he collapsed back onto the bed panting hard against your skin.

It was quiet for several long minutes as he gathered you up into his arms and pulled you into his chest. Both of you were overheated despite the blizzard, and the chill couldn’t reach you in the haze of your heat. The cold must have finally gotten to him at some point, because he tucked you under his coat and stood to find a flannel to wash up the mess you both had made.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to wash your smell out of my clothes now,” he said. You hummed happily. You had done a good job of claiming your alpha then.

You protested when Arthur shook you gently, trying to get you to sit up and drink some water. He wound up grabbing your jaw between his finger and thumb and squeezing gently until your lips parted. You smacked your lips at first before winding your fingers in his hair and washing the water down with an open mouthed kiss.

Arthur chuckled when you finally let him pull away. He wrapped his coat around your shoulders -- seeming mighty pleased at the sight of you wearing his clothes -- and grabbed as many blankets as he could find to drape over you.

“We can probably get a few hours rest before another wave hits you.” He brushed your hair behind your ear. “I know you weren’t in any right mind -- still aren’t.” He sighed. “I just hope that you don’t regret this too much when you come out the other side. I know I already do.”

You pouted, blinking up at him with watery eyes. “You regret me?” was the only thought running through your head.

“No!” A large palm cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your quivering bottom lip. “I just wish we’d had the chance to talk things out before letting me… you know. I would have liked it to be your decision.”

“It was my decision,” you said, extremely sure of yourself while you were still drunk on endorphins and the feeling of his cock inside you.

Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair.

You took the chance to lean up and press a smattering of light kisses to the column of his throat. He smelled so good, so safe. “You’re the only one I trust,” you whispered.

[samstree]

A Study in Blushing

In which Jaskier makes a surprising discovery and decides to test it out.

(tooth rotting fluff, blushing geralt, soft jaskier, love confessions, kissing, winter at kaer morhen, rated teen, 3000 words)

Also, I know witchers can't blush in canon but seriously we should all know better.

read on AO3

“Gods damn it, bard! I know Geralt tolerates all your shit because he’s in love with you, but you gotta put things back where they belong!”

Lambert grumbles something more all the while putting the training swords back on the shelf, and Jaskier’s mind stops.

The world zeroes in on the words he’s in love with you and suddenly Jaskier can’t form words.

“W...What did you—”

“I said—” Lambert throws down the last one with a clunk. “—the swords go back on the shelf!”

“Geralt...is in love with me?” Jaskier breathes, unbelieving.

Lambert pauses, “Don’t you know?”

“No...?”

“Fuck. Pretty boy can’t get his head out of his ass and now I have to suffer.”

With that, Lambert tries to shoulder past Jaskier but the bard is having none of it. “No!” he puts a hand on Lambert’s chest. “Don’t even think about it. How? Since when? And how do you know?”

Lambert mumbles something unintelligible, before sighing long-sufferingly. “It’s too obvious, Buttercup.”

“How is it obvious? Does Geralt walk around with the words ‘I’m smitten with my bard and all the grumpy face is faked’ written on his forehead? How, pray tell, is it obvious?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Lambert, the bastard, raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Did you truly not know?”

“No!”

Jaskier is so close to grabbing Lambert by the collar just to shake some answers out of him, and finally, the youngest wolf takes pity on him.

“He looks at you differently when he thinks you are doing something cute. He trips over his words after you call him sweet names. The worst of it all—he blushes any time you are close. Blushes, like a fucking maiden. Urgh, I’m gonna throw up.”

“Oh,” Jaskier deflates, “Witchers blush?”

“See for yourself.” Lambert rolls his eyes, walking past Jaskier with a few long strides. “And put the swords back!”

 ~~

Jaskier decides to test it out, because there’s no way Geralt is in love with him.

Loving him as a friend, sure, why not? Despite what ignorant folks claim about witchers, Jaskier knows by experience that Geralt has a heart bigger and more capable of love than most. But Geralt being in love with Jaskier? Like, he-wants-to-kiss-him in love with him? No way.

Blushing because of him? Ha! More like in Jaskier’s wildest dreams.

Although that would be really cute.

“Pass me the salt, honey?” Jaskier reaches out a hand to the other end of the table, and Geralt passes the salt without thinking.

Hmm.

No tripping over words.

“Thank you, dear heart.”

He’s putting as much sweetness in his voice as possible and Geralt is…normal. His eyebrows are raised to the roof, and there’s a faint smile by the corners of his eyes. But that’s just how Geralt is…right? He’s home and he’s relaxed, he smiles with his eyes rather than his lips, and it’s got nothing to do with Jaskier.

Jaskier chews, staring at Geralt subtly.

Not subtle enough.

“Something on my face?”

“No—” Jaskier chokes, hacking like a fool and tipping sideways. “Just—too much salt.”

Geralt scoffs, the faint smile turning into a brief grin, and hands over a cup of water.

Jaskier wants the ground to swallow him whole.

 ~~

The snow is terrible.

The whole keep is freezing like an ice cube, and Jaskier has to blow on his hands from time to time just to function in the library. He’s the lucky one, in the grand scheme of things. The witchers still need to go outside to fix up the walls and tend to the animals.

Geralt hasn’t been back in a while.

Jaskier puts down the quill he’s been chewing anxiously and rushes out the door—

And bumps right into Geralt’s chest.

“Sweet Melitele, that’s a lot of snow!” Jaskier spits out the snow knocked into his mouth, before looking at Geralt properly. “Oh, you’re hurt.”

The cut on Geralt’s eyebrow is a small one, but Jaskier worries nonetheless. Geralt doesn’t look impressed, only walks straight towards the small medkit sitting on a shelf.

“Repairment has to wait. The wind is bad.” Geralt grunts, trying to touch the wound and missing by a mile.

“Here, let me.”

Jaskier takes the salve from Geralt’s slightly shaking hands and pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket. Geralt is frowning so hard he can crack a walnut with those eyebrows.

“Relax,” Jaskier murmurs, blowing gently at the cut while dabbing at the blood. Upon deeming it clean enough, he applies a scoop of the salve that smells of celandine and mint. “Don’t move. It’ll only hurt a bit.”

Geralt keeps shying away from Jaskier’s ministration so he has no choice but to wrap his other hand around Geralt’s jaw, which manages to still him instantly.

“There,” Jaskier smiles. “Shouldn’t need anything more. Your witcher healing will kick in soon.”

Geralt tilts his head with that soft look in his eyes. “My thanks. Wouldn’t have survived without you.”

“No shit! Who goes out in a storm like this one? If you ask me, Vesemir is too tough on you. Look at you…” Jaskier coos, taking Geralt’s hands. “You are like a popsicle, dear heart.”

He tries to rub some heat back into Geralt’s freezing hands, his skin dry and rough. There’s still some hand cream left in Jaskier’s room. Maybe he can fetch it later. Geralt needs to take care of his hands better when his living depends on them.

Geralt groans, looking away. The frames of his ears are beet red too; he must have been outside without a hat for all this time. Jaskier wants to cover them with his warm palms, only to have his hands batted away.

“No, there’s—I’m fine,” Geralt mumbles. If Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d think the way Geralt avoids his eyes is a result of shyness. The bard can snort at the ridiculous idea and stubbornly presses his hands over Geralt’s ears.

Oh.

His ears are red because they are so warm, not cold

Now that they are standing so close, only a hand’s breadth away, Geralt looks stunned, his eyes dilating, only leaving a ring of gold around those dark pupils. There’s even a layer of pink dusting over his pale cheeks.

A blushing witcher.

Oh, this is interesting.

“Geralt, sweetie?” Jaskier husks, lowering his voice especially on the pet name. “Are you warm enough?”

“Um, sure…not cold.”

And he watches as Geralt’s mind ceases to work in front of his eyes, the blush deepening. It’s still a subtle thing. No wonder Jaskier has missed it all this time. Calloused hands wrap around Jaskier’s wrists, and the bard finally relents, letting go.

If he spends the rest of the day sitting at the desk with a quill in hand, thinking about the way Geralt’s skin feels against his and the warmth of his cheeks, nobody needs to know.

 ~~

Jaskier doesn’t know what to do with this piece of new information.

Geralt does blush.

Because of him.

He tries to repeat the experiment. Just to be sure, he tells himself. And every time it yields the same results. As soon as he gets into Geralt’s space, the witcher either stumbles through his words or gets all flustered all over. The fondness is there too, just in a very Geralt and very unnoticeable manner, soft and almost smiling.

Jaskier is so drunk on power.

The only thing left is to tell Geralt that he loves him too. That he’s also in love in love with him, as in an I-also-want-to-kiss-you kind of way, and then… they can finally kiss!

Oh, just inwardly rehearsing the scene makes Jaskier dizzy, and somehow he ends up smiling to himself when he’s so deep in thoughts planning the conversation, once even in front of company.

Lambert throws him a side-eye and a disgusted grunt, but Jaskier can’t care less.

He finds the perfect night, and even takes a sip of White Gull from Eskel’s cup just to calm his nerves.

And he realizes too late that, perhaps, the strongest witcher brew might be a mistake.

The effect is stronger than he anticipated, and Jaskier is giggling through the fog in his mind within mimutes, somehow ending up on Geralt’s lap, draped over his shoulder in a heap of soft, pliant mess.

He rests his temple against Geralt’s and nearly tips backward if not for the strong arm that catches him by the waist.

“Oops, thank the gods I have my big witcher here!” Jaskier runs the tips of his fingers across Geralt’s stubbles. It tickles, and the blush is back, unmistakably, since Geralt is as sober as the day. “I’d fall over on my butt without you! And falling over doesn’t look good before saying important things, does it?”

Huh, he’s said it out loud.

“Saying what things?”

Well, if it’s out there…

“Where do I start again? Right of course, with how beautiful you look when you’re like this!”

His fingers move to tuck the curtain of white hair behind Geralt’s ears. No matter how much Jaskier loves it when Geralt wears his hair down, he needs to look into those amber eyes without obstruction. The molten gold gleams with surprise and Jaskier wants to drown in it.

“I’m not…” Geralt splutters, before closing his mouth with a pop. The flush is stretching down his neck now, and Jaskier chases it with a hand.

“You are!” he insists petulantly. “You are blushing and it’s beautiful. Adorable too! I wouldn’t know if Lambert hadn’t told me—” he burps. “—um, everything.”

“Told you what?”

The alarm in Geralt’s voice should wake Jaskier up immediately, but alas, the White Gull is no joke.

“Shh!” he stage-whispers, “It’s a secret! Don’t tell Geralt! I need to do it right!”

Jaskier lets out a happy sound and leans into the comforting embrace that he loves so much. Under his fingers, he can feel heat still gather under Geralt’s skin, making him look equally annoyed and fond.

“You are not making sense, Jask.”

“Nothing about you makes sense either, but I’m here. And ready.” Jaskier smiles and presses a chaste kiss on Geralt’s cheekbone, humming another happy sound.

Kissing Geralt is nice, gives Jaskier all the fuzzy feelings.

But somehow, that was also the wrong thing to do, because Geralt has gone stiff under Jaskier’s body. The next thing he knows, the witcher is struggling to untangle their limbs and leaving him empty and cold.

“Don’t…do this,” he murmurs, upset. “Just…don’t.”

The anguish the seeps through Geralt’s voice somehow manages to get through the muddy cloud in Jaskier’s mind.

“Wait, what?” Jaskier rights himself on unsteady feet, but his witcher is long gone. Eskel and Lambert are still nursing their tankards by the fire, and Jaskier wobbles past them without a care. He needs to find Geralt, who apparently charged right out of the great hall and into the cold night.

The heavy wooden doors open and Jaskier is hit with the unrelenting wind. The snow has stopped and partially melted, and frozen all over again. It’s the worst kind. Jaskier takes his steps with caution but still, it’s too slippery.

Okay. Mind. Clear. He needs it to be.

“Geralt?” he calls out, churning with anxiety. “Geralt, where are you?”

Damn his witcher speed. Now Jaskier is walking in the dark and freezing his balls off without an ounce of idea where Geralt might be. Oh, the stalls. Roach must be the first thought Geralt has when he needs to talk. Jaskier shudders, hugging his doublet tighter to fend off the wind and searches for the stalls blindly.

“Geralt, are you—ow!”

He walks right into a pillar and falls on his butt. Before Jaskier can register the pain, a pair of hands are picking him up by the armpits and he stumbles into Geralt’s embrace.

There’s a familiar sizzle of Igni, and the torch by the stalls is roaring with life.

“What are you doing out here?” A coat is tossed over Jaskier’s shoulders and he’s ushered back towards the building.

“Looking for you, you idiot!” Jaskier squawks, albeit grateful for the thick fur coat. A few more minutes he would lose all feelings in his toes. “Running into the night like this, who knows what can happen to you!”

“So you followed me out drunk and with no coat and I’m the idiot? Gods, I don’t know why I even…”

The doors creak open and there’s light and warmth and the smell of mead, but Jaskier’s heart sinks.

“I don’t know why you even bother too,” Jaskier muses, suddenly feeling like a scolded child.

Geralt steers Jaskier past the other wolf witchers and straight into his room, where the heat feels like a furnace on Jaskier’s frozen fingers—Geralt has been secretly tending to Jaskier’s fire for weeks after the human came down with a cold upon arrival at the keep. He’s too good to Jaskier.

“You are too good to me.”

“And you are a pain in the ass.”

Geralt sits Jaskier down in front of the fire rather grumpily, before joining him and pulling the coat even tighter. He’s still mad, just a smidge, but the droop of his eyes speaks more of sadness.

“Hey, talk to me,” Jaskier coaxes, squeezing Geralt’s knee in reassurance. Whatever argument coming their way, he can’t stand Geralt being sad.

“How drunk are you?”

“Not very.” If Geralt walking out hadn’t put Jaskier out of his daze, the wind sure finished the job. “White gull passes quickly. Hmm, who would have thought…”

“I need to tell you something.”

“But I need to tell you something too! It’s important.”

“Let me go first?”

The plead comes out in a whisper, and who is Jaskier to reject Geralt like this, wide-eyed and earnest?

“I never meant for you to know, and certainly not on a night like this, but Jaskier…” Geralt heaves out a breath, determined and so so brave. Jaskier is drawn closer to Geralt’s body like a magnet, ready to soothe, to meet him halfway. “I am in love with you.”

“Geralt.”

“I know you don’t feel the same, and it’s okay. You make a living singing about loving. Hell, you make a living simply by loving. Music, adventures, people, so many people. It’s okay that your heart is too big for me. But, Jask, I can’t take it anymore.”

“I don’t…not…”

“You flirt with people. You…touch them and kiss them and praise them. It’s okay. It’s the way you are. I understand that when you do the same with me it doesn’t mean anything more, but, Jaskier, I need you to stop.”

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes. “Do you hate it? I thought…differently.”

The smile that tugs at Geralt’s lips can only be described as crestfallen.

“The opposite. I love it too much. I’ll always want more. Always. I’m greedy like this.”

The guilt weighing down on Geralt’s shoulders is not a good sight, a personal offense to Jaskier. His hand reaches out on its own volition, tilting Geralt’s chin up so their gazes meet. The blush is back.

What did Jaskier do in his past life to deserve this man?

“That’s what I was going to say.”

“That you are greedy?”

The frown remains on Geralt’s face, and Jaskier smooths it with the pad of his thumb.

“No. That I am in love with you. Gods, for someone who’s not a bard, you sure know how to steal someone’s line from the beginning,” Jaskier chuckles. “I’ve been trying to tell you that I return your feelings. But alas, you know the coward that I am.”

“You are…not,” he protests, blinking.

The way Geralt defends him on instinct only makes Jaskier’s insides melt into a pool of fuzziness.

“In this, yes. How I fucked up so bad is a mystery. That’s just me I guess, trying to love you but ending up hurting you, making you feel like I’m stringing you along like anyone else.”

“I’m not?”

“No, you oaf.” Jaskier bops his nose. “You are the most important person in the world for me. This is the most important thing in the world to me! I love you and I love it when you blush. Also, I’d very much like to kiss you, if you want it too.”

Jaskier bites into his lips and watches as Geralt’s gaze drops to them, the pink of his cheeks spreading into the most gorgeous crimson. “I want to. Kiss you, that is.”

“Good.”

Jaskier wets his lips with a peak of the tongue and watches the same gesture returned. Even if the alcohol has left his system, the intoxication remains, only this time because of Geralt’s slightly dilated pupils and quickened breathing. He leans in, not being able to resist—

“Did you say ‘return my feelings’?” Geralt dodges away, looking incredulous. “Jaskier, did you know? And what was that about blushing?”

“Um…” Now Jaskier is the one to splutter. Luckily, he has a trick up his sleeves or two that can make sure Geralt forgets about every last thought there is.

Jaskier lunges forward and tackles his witcher onto the soft rug and kisses him within an inch of his life, deepening it like there’s no tomorrow. Judging by the dazed look on Geralt’s face as he comes up for air, the method is working.

Cupping Geralt’s rosy cheeks, Jaskier croaks proudly, “Tell you later?”

“We have all the later we need.” Geralt’s smile is blinding, and equally mischievous. Without a moment of pause, Jaskier ends up the one flipped onto his back and being kissed until he shudders with pleasure.

Jaskier has to thank Lambert properly one day, considering Geralt will certainly go after him with a vengeance.

For now, having Geralt on top of him and slowly melting into a contented mess should be enough. If he’s allowed, Jaskier vows silently, he would really like to make Geralt blush for him for the rest of his life.

~~

Jaskier will totally make it his life's mission to tease Geralt endlessly and see his beautiful blush. 🥰🥰

On another note, I challenged myself to write 2000 words exactly, and this ended up, um, 3000 words exactly. I’ll count it as a win anyway ;)

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[marvelmusing]

Biology Lessons

Alpha!Modern!Laszlo Kreizler x Omega!Fem!Reader

My Masterlist

A/N: I was curious about the biology of A/B/O and ended up reading a lot of Wikipedia pages, 3000 words and a small Alpha Laszlo obsession later here we are

WARNINGS: 18+ content, unprotected smut, A/B/O dynamics, reader has female anatomy but no gender specific pronouns have been used (if there have been please let me know)

You and Laszlo had been together for two years. During this time you had been intimate on plenty of occasions, however you’d always ignored your secondary sex. When together, you were just two lovers, not an Alpha and Omega. You had limited experience with dealing with your biology and Laszlo had respected your decision to stay on your suppressants. He, in turn, had begun taking some of the weaker forms of suppressants. The kind that reduced his rut to a few days that he spent at John’s house. This situation worked well, until you reached the point where you changed your mind and wanted to come off your suppressants. You trusted Laszlo to help you through it and he was more than eager to take care of you.

“Have you ever had a heat?” Laszlo asks you. The two of you are sitting in his downstairs office at his house. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting a glow over Laszlo’s face as he watches you. Your eyes wander as you think about it.

“Once or twice when I first presented. But I started on suppressants pretty young.” He frowns a little, and you know his medical side disapproves. “We never learnt much about it in school.” You explain, trying to justify your decision. He nods immediately,

“Of course. The education system is curated for the success of Alphas. That, and sex education regarding Omegas is still often considered taboo.” He places a hand on your knee, “That’s not your fault, drágám.” You nod, keeping your focus on the hem of the robe you’re wearing - Laszlo’s bathrobe. “Would you like me to explain it to you?” Your face warms at the thought, and you shake your head.

“You don’t have to.”

“No, but I’d like to. I think you deserve to know about yourself.” You give him a small nod. He smiles kindly at you and beckons you closer. When you approach him, he pulls you into his lap. “What would you like to know?” He asks you. You shrug slightly, fiddling with your fingers.

“I don’t know.” You admit quietly. He hums in thought, before asking you,

“How would you describe my scent?” You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck as you inhale his scent. He smiles softly, his hand resting at the back of your neck, knowing that his scent will take the edge off your nerves. Your eyes flutter open as a small smile tugs at your lips.

“It’s like the citrus soap from my grandmother’s house, and the smell of new books, and your office, and like home.” You tell him and he squeezes the back of your neck affectionately.

“You smell like a field of fresh flowers, clean linen, and warm sugared tea. Soft and sweet, and safe.” He admits. You smile up at him as you lean your temple against his shoulder. He taps your nose gently with the tip of his finger. “The scent receptors in your nose pick up my scent and your body’s response depends on how appealing you find it.”

“Very appealing.” You admit against his neck and he hums affectionately.

“This is what helps you decide on my suitability as a mate. As well as other factors such as aesthetics, personality, and overall attraction.”

“That, and you’re one of the kindest, most loving men I’ve ever met.” He looks down, never used to the praise you always give him. His smile widens as he leans in to kiss your cheek.

“Enough flattery from you. It’s time for our lesson.” He tightens his hold on you as you smile at him, resting his weaker hand on your thigh. “Heat cycles occur once every season, so usually four in a year. The heat itself lasts between five and ten days, but that depends on the person.” His thumb skims across the skin of your bare legs lightly. “While Omegas can be sexually active outside of their heat, it is much more pleasurable during their cycle.” You’ve always loved listening to him talk, but hearing him explain all this to you has your body melting against his as your eyes remain fixed on his lips as he speaks. “Did you know that, as your mate, I may be able to trigger your heat?” You blink at him in surprise. You didn’t know that. “It isn’t always possible, but would you like me to try?” He asks, noticing your interest. You nod cautiously, and he takes your hands as he guides you off his lap, before pulling you towards the centre of his office. He sits you down on his desk with your legs parted, and he stands between them. He places his warm hands on your thighs, and nuzzles his nose against your neck. “You know where your scent glands are, yes?” You nod. You tap your finger against the ones on each side of your throat, then bare your wrists to him to show him the areas. You frown before mentioning,

“There’s another pair, I think, but I don’t know where they are.” He smiles proudly at you,

“Correct. There is one here, and here.” He tells you, trailing his fingers along each of your thighs. “They’re a little different from your other ones, which is why most people forget about them.” He squeezes your thighs tenderly as he continues his explanation. “Their main purpose is so that when you go into heat your slick will smell of your Alpha, and tell everyone that you’re taken.” You swallow the whine in your throat, but he knows the effect he’s having on you already. “How long have you been off your suppressants?” He asks you. He knows the answer of course, but he wants to see if your mind is still functioning.

“Around two weeks.” He nods,

“The perfect time to trigger your heat. That is of course if you want to?” You nod hurriedly,

“Please.” He steps closer,

“All I need to do is apply a little pressure here,” the pads of his fingers press against the glands in your thighs. He smiles at the sight of your head falling back, bearing your neck to him. “A little stimulus here.” His tongue moves across the pulse of your throat, sending a shudder down your spine. “And for you to take a nice deep breath.” You do as he says, your body responding instantly to his pheromones. He smells the change in your scent and smiles. “There you go, good Omega.” He coos. You whine at the warmth spreading slowly through your body as you cling to your Alpha. “You should be feeling rather warm now.” You nod your head a few times in agreement. He hums, “And I can smell your slick already.” He nuzzles his lips against your neck, and you whine for him. “By triggering your heat, we’ve skipped the pre-heat nesting stage. But don’t worry Omega, I’ve prepared the bed for you, and you can fix it up just how you like it tomorrow.” You’re beginning to pant and a shimmer of sweat is coating your skin as your fingers tug at his clothing. His words certainly aren’t helping either. He cups your face. “But right now, I think my Omega needs my knot, yes?” You nod hurriedly,

“Alpha, please.” You loop your arms around his neck, wrapping your legs around his torso, and he hooks his hands underneath your thighs. He lifts you from his desk and takes you up to the bed. When you see the bed set up, a large number of pillows at one end, blankets bunched up the sides, and the whole place smells of Laszlo’s cologne. “Laszlo.” You whisper softly, as the sight pulls on your heartstrings.

“I wanted everything to be perfect.” He admits, leaning in to kiss you.

“You’re here, it couldn’t be more perfect.” You tell him through the kiss. You can feel his grin as his mouth moves against yours, the back of your legs meeting the bed, and he guides you down carefully. He pulls at the belt of the bathrobe, letting it fall open and taking a moment to admire you. He pulls away to remove his clothes, and you whimper at the lack of contact. You take this moment as an opportunity to slip the robe from your body, abandoning it on the floor. You turn onto your stomach, hands smoothing up the bedsheets to rest above your head. Hips shifting needily, you arch your back, your knees digging into the mattress. Once he’s undressed, Laszlo looks back at you and his jaw nearly drops, though he’s quick to recover.

“Such a pretty picture, my beautiful Omega, already presenting for me.” He settles between your open thighs, leaning his body over yours. You rut your hips back against his, desperate for any sort of friction. You feel his smirk as his mouth moves across your shoulder. His hand descends between your thighs, fingers pressing against your warm folds. “And you’re so wet already, drágám.” He slips his finger deep into you, drawing a needy gasp from your lips.

“Laszlo, Alpha, please.”

“More?”

“Yes, yes please.” He removes his finger, leaving you whining, your hips chasing him. His hands curl around your waist, squeezing you gently as he tuts.

“Patience Omega.” But you don’t have to wait long, as he lines himself up to your entrance. In one fluid motion he’s filled you up, your eyes squeezed shut and your back arching against the mattress. “Such a perfect fit.” He moans against your neck, his accent getting thicker as you take in every inch of him. He kisses your shoulder delicately.

“Tell me when I can move, édesem.” You take a few gasping breaths, trying to become accustomed to the haze filling your mind. He notices your struggle. “Relax Omega. Let me take care of you.” A tiny whine catches in your throat, then you’re nodding.

“Please, Alpha.” His forehead presses between your shoulder blades as he moves in and out of you. Every single one of your moans and gasps has him nearing the edge of his restraint. Whilst Laszlo wants to focus on you, his need is slowly growing and he wants to ensure you want this.

“Drágám, darling Omega,” he rasps out. “I don’t think I can hold back for much longer.”

“Don’t, please. Don’t hold back.” That’s all it takes for his pace to increase. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as he pushes you closer. You press your forehead hard against the plush of the mattress as you feel his knot pushing against your entrance. You whine, desperate for him to fill you completely. Growling against the skin of your back, nails gripping onto your hips, he drives his hips harder against yours. You don’t feel the thin red lines trailing down your thighs as you clench around him. “Are you ready for my knot, Omega? I know you’re close.” You can’t reply. Your mind is completely lost to the feeling of your Alpha taking you to pieces. “I need you to come, so my knot can stuff you full.” As soon as he knows you’re about to come he pushes his knot into you. Your eyes roll back, and you come hard with a broken cry. Only a moment later Laszlo comes as well, his lips grazing down your spine as he does. His knot swells, ensuring none of your slick escapes. Your body goes slack as the two of you attempt to catch your breath. You feel Laszlo’s breathing tickle the skin of your back as it slowly returns to normal. He shifts his weight slightly. “This may feel a little odd.” He warns you. He takes hold of your leg and moves it to the other side of him, effectively spinning you around and lying you down with your back to the mattress. You gasp a little at the change in position, his knot still holding deep inside you. “Now this is better.” He remarks, leaning down to kiss your lips. He takes your hands in his own, letting them run down your spent body. “Can you feel how full you are?” He pushes your hands over your abdomen, your fingers skimming over the bulge caused by his knot. “You did so well Omega, letting me fill you up like this.” He leans forward, nuzzling against your neck. “Such a brave Omega.” He coos. His praises and gentle touches soon have you coming back to your senses. Laszlo notices when the haze has cleared from your eyes, and gives you a soft smile.

“Hi.” You whisper.

“Hello.” The two of you stay in each other’s arms for a while, simply enjoying the close proximity to one another. You rub your fingers over his chest, before reaching up to curl them into the hair at the back of his neck.

“Laszlo,” you say softly, tilting your head back to bear your neck to him. “Can I have your mark?” He seems a little taken aback by your request.

“You- you want…”

“To be yours.” You watch his eyes darken slightly, and he claims your lips again. When he pulls away you’re breathless again.

“You’re sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You tell him. “That is, of course, if you want me.”

“Édesem, you are my world.” You both share a tender smile. He cradles the side of your face before tilting your head back. He nuzzles his lips gently against your throat. “With your current level of endorphins you shouldn’t feel too much pain…”

“I love you.” You interrupt him, your smile wide.

“I love you too, drágám.” He presses a soft kiss to the mating gland at your throat, before sinking his teeth down. You clench your teeth, nails digging into the sheets at the sharp sting of your skin breaking. Then, a wave of pleasure rolls through you as your bond snaps into place. You feel Laszlo lapping at the small wound. “All good?” He asks you. You nod with a smile.

“Though, if you bring up that saliva is a natural healing agent I will kick you out of bed.” He chuckles.

“Before I get my own mark. How cruel.” You frown at him.

“What?”

“Alphas also have a mating gland.” You nod, your frown still present,

“I didn’t think- I’ve never seen-“

“Very few Alphas feel the need to wear their mate’s mark. However, I want the world to know I’m yours.” He smiles, watching the primal urge shimmer in your eyes, though he senses your lingering hesitance. “It won’t hurt me, drágám.” Your eyes flicker down to his neck, and he leans closer. “Right here.” He guides you to the spot against his throat. You cup his face carefully, taking a moment to nuzzle against his neck, breathing in his scent. “Don’t be scared Omega. Take what’s yours.” You sink your teeth into his throat, sucking gently at the break of his skin. You feel him shudder against you as your bond strengthens. You trace your tongue carefully along the wound. He leans down to kiss you again, your first kiss as a mated couple. You share a few more slow, loving kisses before Laszlo pulls away. He reaches down towards the bottom of the bed, pulling out a towel and lying it beneath your hips. You frown lightly at him. “Can’t have our nest getting dirty, can we?” Your face morphs into an affectionate smile. Your mate really does think of everything. You whimper when he pulls out, but he rubs your thighs reassuringly and presses kisses over your face. You giggle softly and he beams at you. He ensures the majority of the mess is soaked up by the towel before discarding it. He presses a kiss to your temple, “I’ll be right back Omega.” He’s gone for under thirty seconds, but you both feel the pull of your bond. When it’s fresh like this you can’t be parted for long. He returns with some wet wipes, and begins to clean the two of you up. The coolness soothes you, pushing the heat symptoms even further away. You smile softly at Laszlo and he shares your smile as the two of you spend a moment admiring one another. He throws the wipes away and settles down by your side. You nuzzle against him, purring contentedly. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Get some sleep drágám.”

•*•*•*•

Early the next morning, Laszlo is stirred from his sleep by some sort of movement at his side. The bedroom is still in semi-darkness, the sun hasn’t quite risen into the sky yet, but there’s enough light to see by. The sight before him warms his heart. You’re adjusting a pillow beside you, tucking it under the quilt to secure the wall of your nest. You have one of his shirts tucked under your arm, and nuzzle into one of the pillows.

“What are you doing, Omega?” He asks, his voice still thick with sleep. He can feel your blush as you mumble,

“Just getting comfortable.” He chuckles softly, pulling himself closer to you. You immediately melt into his arms, your body lying flush against his chest. He trails a hand down your spine, and despite your shiver, he can feel your body heat increasing.

“Ready to go again?” He suggests. You pout, the tiredness behind your eyes creeping up on you despite the slick gathering between your thighs.

“M’ tired.” You mumble against his chest.

“I know you are.” He coos, guiding your hips towards his. “But all you need to do is be a good Omega and keep me warm.” You sigh in relief at the feeling of him filling you, eyes fluttering shut as he continues, his accent thickening. “Yes, that’s all your heat-ridden body’s good for, isn’t it?” He feels you tighten at his words and he groans against your neck. “Don’t worry Omega, I’m going to take such good care of you.”

[lilysdaydreams]

Boyfriend-girlfriend feelings ~

Pairing: Corpse Husband X Reader

Genre: Fluffy stuff.

Warnings: Um none i think.

Summary: Request where fem!reader has like a husky voice and it’s not like super deep but deep compared to the other female streamers and she joins the lobby w corpse and stuff as a substitute and everyone is supposed about her voice and calls her the girl version of corpse bc she’s faceless too, except her personality isn’t bc she’s super optimistic and stuff. Anyways her and corpse bond and later admit separately on stream that they like the other, then fluff? Thank you!!!!

A/N: This is my first request and I went a bit overboard lol, this is nearly 3000 words so Anon I hope you enjoy lol, but yeah I did my best, I really really really  hope you like it :((

~~~

You yawned and took a sip of your bubble tea before turning back to chat.

“Hmmm, what should we do now, everyone? I think I might end stream now, it’s been like nearly 4 hours.” you mumbled glancing at the time.

It was only 10, so it wasn't that late, but you’d been on stream for 4 hours and you needed to finish your essay.

Your phone lit up with a notification and you glanced at it to see that it was from Sean.

Sean: hey wanna play among us? We need one more person.

“Uhhh or maybe not.” you said to everyone, smiling as you saw the chat light up with excitement.

Quickly typing out a “yessss, send me the link.”, you let your viewers know that you were gonna be playing among us and then quickly opened up the game.

Opening up discord, you joined the group and realised the only person you actually knew here was Sean.

“Shit” you said, biting your lip.

“Guysss,” you whined to your viewers. “The only person I know here is Sean. I’m so nervous now.”

The chat blew up with “you can do it!” and “we believe in you!” and other supportive messages.

You smiled seeing all of this. Your community may be small, but they were probably the best ones out there. They were sweet and kind and there was barely any toxicity in the group. You were only a small streamer, doing it as a hobby since you started college. You only knew Sean because he had messaged you himself, inviting you to a game of Phasmophobia because he'd liked your previous videos where you played it. You had been shocked then, barely being able to comprehend that Jackspecticeye decided to Twitter dm you, like what the actual fuck. That had only been a month ago, and you had played again a week ago with him, but your friendship was still new so even though his presence made you a bit comfortable, the anxiety was definitely overpowering it.

“Okay, okay I can do it” you mumbled under your breath trying to hype yourself up.

Quickly joining the call, your ears were filled with the noise of everyone yelling about the previous game. Sean quickly yelled at them to shut up once he noticed you'd joined.

"Everybody, I have our tenth player, this is Y/N, say hi everyone."

Valkyrae was the first one to yell out "Hi" with everyone else chiming in as well, and you had to breathe in deep to stop yourself from fangirling over Valkyrae.

You awkwardly smiled and said "Hey guys, I'm Y/N, Its nice to meet everyone."

There was silence for a second and you narrowed your eyes, wondering if you were muted or something.

"Wait what oh my god, you're Y/N from Y/C/N?" Valkyrae said her voice going quite high.

"Oh, that's where I know you from," said Sykkuno suddenly, leaving you staring shocked at the screen. Sykkuno and Valkyrae knew who you were? What the actual fuck?

"Uhhh," you said eyes flickering between the chat and the screen. "Yeah, that's me, I didn't even think you would know who I was, um oh my god."

"Oh right, now I remember, you did a cover of dreamy night, right?" chimed in Lily, and by this point, you were almost having a panic attack.

"Oh god, you saw that?" you questioned, whispering because you were worried that you were gonna wake up from this dream soon.

"Yeah!" exclaimed Lily, "Your voice is like total opposite of mine, so it was really cool to hear! Your  voice is really nice!"

"Awww, thank you so much, that's so sweet of you to say," you said, wringing your hands, not really sure what to say. What the actual fuck, how were all you favourite streamers here and ALSO knew about you huh? You wondered if this was a dream.

"Yeah what the hell, your voice is so deep." said Poki.

"Right, when you said 'hi', I literally thought it was Corpse for a second," Dave replied, chuckling a bit.

You made yourself take big breaths, trying to make your heart calm down.

"She's not very much like Corpse though" Sean chimed in. "She's very sweet, and gets scared so easily."

You unmuted yourself and gasped exaggeratedly. "Excuse me Sean, but who was it who screamed so much in Phasmophobia and nearly made my ears bleed?

"That game is FUCKING scary okay?" He screamed back, making everyone laugh in the background.

"Hey guys, what did I miss?" a very deep voice came in suddenly, and you realised this was the 'Corpse' they were talking about. You had seen his popularity on Twitter and seen a few clips of him playing but god damn hearing his voice in your ears like that was fucking amazing. You squeaked, thankful you were on mute.

"Holy shit, his voice is deep," you said to the chat, immediately getting responses such as "We know!," and "SIMPPP" as a joke from others.

Giggling you unmuted yourself when Sean introduced you to Corpse, and nervously said "Hey", dragging it out at the end, "Its nice to meet you!"

"Oh yeah!" said Sean as if remembering something. "Y/N is faceless as well, so she kind of is like the  female version of Corpse."

"What?" "Oh my god." "Brooo, thats so cool"

You didn't have time to say anything back as Sean decided to start the game at right that second.

Everyone went quiet and you sighed in relief as "CREWMATE" flashed across your screen. You did not want to be an imposter right now, you wouldn't be able to stomach it.

Quickly hiding your chat, you moved to admin and started humming something to calm your heart down. This had been a crazy 5 minutes for you, and you really needed to calm down. Taking a sip of your drink, you talked to the viewers as you did the card swipe.

"I cant believe Valkyrae - oh I should just call her Rae, right? considering I'm playing with her right now, oh my god, ANYWAYS, I can't believe Rae and Sykkuno know me. Like Lily even saw my cover. Ahhh! I didn't even know she saw it, and now I'm just playing with them, im literally shaking," you rambled to the chat as you went towards electrical to do the tasks there.

You saw Poki there, and you both ran around each other and then you followed her as she started walking to reactor. Suddenly the lights went out, and you gasped as the report button went red, and you quickly pressed it.

"Okay okay," you said before anyone could speak. "Me and Poki met up in electrical, we went to reactor and I was doing the one two three four five six seven eight nine ten task, and she was doing the Simon says and then lights went out and I went off and then suddenly the report button was red. So the kill happened right now."

"Did you see anyone?" asked Toast?

"Nope, I saw no one."

"Well, it couldn't be Sykkuno, because we were both waking to electrical together," said Corpse,

"Yeah it couldn't be Corpse, we were together at the last moment," confirmed Sykkuno.

"I was in weapons," said Rae.

"Navigation." - Dave.

"I was already at Electrical with uh Lily I think," said Sean.

"Yeah, that was me." confirmed Lily.

"Toast where were you?" asked Rae.

"I was just going into navigation."

"Leslie?" you asked, noticing she hadn't spoken up.

"I was in weapons."

"Well one of you is lying." said Corpse softly making everyone laugh.

"Gee, I wonder what this game is about?" Sean replied, teasing him.

"Maybe it's a self report?" questioned Dave.

"No oh my god, it's not me," you said quickly defending yourself. "Poki and I were literally doing our tasks, I swear."

"I don't think it's Y/N, why would she report the body, there was no one around, and she could  have easily just vented somewhere."

"Are we skipping?" Leslie asked.

A chorus of "Yeah" came in so you quickly skipped. Going into weapons you did the shooting task there and then started towards navigation, letting out a gasp as you got killed suddenly.

"ITS SEAN?" You yelled, completely shocked. "How could he kill me like that, I just started playing with them, and he was the one who invited me as well!" you whined, brining the chat back in again.

Opening up the dead chat, you messaged ":(((((" and Poki did the same back. You talked to the chat for a bit, moving around until you got to electrical where Corpse was.

"Guys, it's Corpse, lets follow him," you said, smiling a little.

Just as he was leaving electrical, Toast came in and killed him. You let out a small gasp as he self-reported and pretended that he'd just stumbled onto the body.

"CORPSEEEE" you typed into the dead chat, laughing when Corpse responded with ":((((" just like you had done.

"Whose the other one?" he asked and you quickly typed in "Sean :((("

Corpse: "*GASP, he killed you after inviting you to the game?*"

You: "Ikr!"

Corpse: “that’s so rude, we should stick together next game so we don’t get killed easily."

You: "Yes let’s do that!”

You guys continued talking until the next round started.

"SEAN!" you yelled immediately. "How could you kill me like that, when you were the one who invited me?" you whined.

"Exactly Sean, that was so rude." Corpse chimed in, supporting you.

"Ah, uh, exc -" spluttered Sean, "Please, oh my god, I can't handle the both of you at the same time, it's too intimidating."

Everyone started laughing and you giggled as Corpse accused Sean of avoiding the question.

The next round started and you laughed when you both got double killed five minutes into the game. Seems like your strategy of staying together wasn’t that good.

You played a few more games with everyone, getting imposter with Poki once. Finally, you decided that you really should finish that essay that you had due.

Finishing your fourth game, you let everyone know, pouting when everyone groaned.

"It was really nice to meet you, Y/N" said Rae, "We should definitely play more!"

Everyone chimed in then and you said bye to everyone as you left the lobby. Just as you were leaving the voice call, you heard Corpse say "Bye Y/N" again, but you couldn't reply because you just left.

"Whoops," you mumbled, feeling a bit bad.

You quickly said bye to all the viewers and ended the stream.

Opening discord on your phone, you sent a friend request to Corpse, being shocked when he accepted in a second. Wasn't he playing still?

Typing out the message, you sent it before thinking about it too much.

"Hey, sorry, I heard you say bye at the end, but I left right then. Just wanted to let you know that I wasn't purposely ignoring you or something."

“Ahhh no worries,” he replied.

Then a second later; “I checked out your covers btw, you’re really good.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” you replied typing quickly. “Your songs are great as well. I have to admit they’re a bit too intense for me lol, as I normally only listen to ballads and stuff, but I loved agoraphobic with al my heart :((( literally listened to that non-stop for a week when it came out lol.”

Okay maybe I went a bit overboard, you thought staring at the message.

“Oh Thankyou, that means so much to me. And yeah, I know that not everyone likes this type of music, don’t worry about it. Actually, I was thinking of doing another Lo-fi type of song like Agoraphobic, but I’m still working on it.”

You settled into your chair, continuing on the conversation.

It was an hour later that you realised that you’d just been texting Corpse and not done the essay like you planned to.

“Sorry corpse, gtg,” you messaged, putting a string of crying emojis after.

Putting down your phone, you finally started working on your essay, ignoring the butterflies you’d had in your stomach for the past hour.

~~~

You guys kept talking. The next day he asked for your number, saying it’d be easier to text there than discord. You guys messaged for ages. Your conversations never ended because even if one of you had to go, you would just pick up the conversation from where you left. It was by far the easiest friendship you’d ever had, and if you were being completely honest, you’d kind of developed a small crush on him.

A few weeks later, you were streaming among us again, this time with another group. You died quickly in the first game, so you pulled up chat and started asking some questions.

“Corpse?” You asked reading one of the questions. “Ah I don’t know guys, I don’t think Corpse is coming to this game, he’s quite busy with his music and everything, and I don’t think he’s available today.”

“Do you like his music?"

"Yeah, his music is great. It’s sometimes intense for me,” you admitted giggling, “but I do love it. I actually really wanted to cover Agoraphobic or MISS YOU! They’re both my favourites and I’ve been wanting to... hmmm.. maybe I’ll do a poll on Twitter and see which one more people want?”

Suddenly a message caught your eye; “I kind of have a crush on corpse.”

You laughed out loud, saying the username and replying “Yah I think everyone who meets corpse ends up having a crush on him, like how could you not, he’s freaking perfect.”

When everyone started spamming chat though, you realized you might have said too much.

“Anyway guys look, I think Sykkuno might end up voting Rae, and oh he did it,” you laughed as the “defeat” screen came up and Rae started yelling at Sykkuno for not believing her.

~~~

The next day, Corpse was waiting as Rae asked people to join the lobby. Answering questions from his chat, he saw one about you and read it out.

“Is Y/N gonna play?”

“Ahhh, I don’t think so guys, I think she has an assignment or something. It’s been a bit since I played with her, it would have been nice to but yah I don’t think she’s available.”

Suddenly all the chat was talking about was you.

“Do you see the clip where she says she likes you?”

“Bhahah I think she has a crush on you lol”

“Did you see that clip?”

Corpse furrowed his eyebrows confused about what clip.

Another comment caught his eye.

“Do you like her?”

“Do I like her? Of course, I like her, it was amazing to meet her, her covers are great, she’s so nice, also she’s like the exact opposite of her voice, it’s so funny." He laughed remembering the photo you'd sent of all your plushies lined on the bed. "Yah no she’s really sweet, we’ve been talking a lot recently, it’s been fun.”

“SIMPPPPP”

“Omg he actually likes her.”

“CORPSE X Y/N”

“Oh don’t make her uncomfortable guys,” Corpse huffed as he saw the comments. “Yah I kinda like her, but y’all are too much” he muttered, before realising exactly what he’d said.

“Wait no, what.” he stuttered, “Um oh look Rae's found some more people.”

~~~

When you finally decided to look on your phone, you realised that your Twitter notifications were blowing UP. Quickly going into the app, you clicked on one of the mentions saying “CORPSE X Y/N, ITS REAL I CANT BELIEVE IT.”

Tapping the video underneath it, you listened as Corpse talked about you, blushing when you realised what it sounded like. But...he couldn’t actually have a crush on you... right?

He was probably kidding, you told your beating heart. Probably just wanted to go trending for something. A voice whispered in your mind that Corpse wasn’t like that but you didn’t wanna give yourself hope.

Just then your phone rung, making you jump and stare shocked at the screen when you saw Corpse with a yellow heart next to it. Corpse had never called you before.

Quickly picking up the call before it could go to voicemail, you shakily questioned “Hey corpse?”

“Uh hey,” he said, his voice sounding way too deep. “Sorry I normally wouldn’t call but like, I just got off-stream and saw the Twitter trends and everything. Um, I like - didn’t wanna, um make you uncomfortable with all that so I can tell them to back off if you want?”

“Um..” you said stalling, trying to process everything here. Deciding to oho full in, you just blurted it out, “Do you actually have feelings for me?”

“Like not just friend feelings", you continued, "but like the boyfriend-girlfriend feelings if you get what I mean.”

Immediately after saying that you wanted to slap yourself. Were you in 2nd grade? Like who the hell says boyfriend girlfriend feelings?

“Uhhh, I- I kinda do I guess, I like you but like it’s okay if you don-

“I do," you said cutting him off before he could finish.

“I um, I also like you.”

“Oh.

“Yah”

“Cool”

“Cool”

~~

Should I do a pt 2?

[icaruskeyartist]

So, as y’all know, back at the start of April, I made a video talking about a situation that I was involved with that including some incredibly uncomfortable topics that, for lack of a better word, triggered memories of when I was an absolute piece of shit to people. 

Since then, the video has been seen by the instigator of the whole kerfuffle that led me to that situation to start with. He reblogged a link to the video that, even when I unlisted it due to being told that I had included his url, was spread around his supporters. 

This little nothing video that had 39 views ballooned to nearly 300 after it was unlisted.

It was a 20 minute video, so of course I don’t expect many people to have listened all the way through. So I decided after I gave it a listen through and learned I had not actually mentioned his URL or done the other things he claimed I did, that I would transcribe the video and eventually release the transcription if I deemed it appropriate. 

Well, Morg decided he wanted to claim it was because of him that Luke has left tumblr for the foreseeable future. And he continues to make baseless claims that other people were involved in the video or support me in any way because of the video. 

So here’s the transcript on a Google Doc.

And here’s the transcript under a cut as well, just for people who don’t like clicking off. It’s a little under 3000 words long, and I tried to maintain the cadence as much as I could through word. I did not include cat or dog noises or my own laughter regarding said noises. 

And yes, I’m adding this to the same tag I’ve been compiling since mid-May.

Hello everyone and welcome back to my channel. Yes, I am actually back this time, not trying to record one handed while trying to take off a respirator. Nettle’s mad because I took her toy. Um… there’s so much to update you all on. It’s been crazy; the entire month of March felt like it went by in a flash. And now I’m 29. But… I will do that on a different date. Today I wanted to talk about some stuff that went down on tumblr, and how it affected me a lot more than I thought it would.

So… to start with y’all know that I talk about transandrophobia a lot, and it’s a conversation that happens – it’s a conversation that happens oftentimes on tumblr. Because reddit is its own hellhole and twitter I’m not touching with a 50 foot pole. For now, at least. Let me get used to tumblr again. So we have that, and I followed a bunch of people. And there’s one person in particular who is called Morg, and he has very interesting ways of expressing himself. It’s very harsh, violent, kinda not what I’m wanting to do, and I’ll get into that later. That sort of thing. And he would get anons who would criticize him, and he would get reblogs derailing his posts and that sort of thing. And he’s also crippled. So he spends a lot of time talking about crippled people and transmasculine people and crippled transmascs, that sort of thing.

And people would derail his posts with neurodivergency, and he would get salty about that and lash out at anons coming into his space talking about how, uh… physically disabled people are a lot more seen versus mental disabled people. And all that is super understandable. It’s his blog, his space, he’s allowed to react to how he wants to.

Where I started getting uncomfortable is he would start haras – not harassing, but he started making posts about this sort of thing where he started blaming all mentally disabled people and neurodivergent people for the behavior of a very select few. And he was being very violent about it, which made me uncomfortable and eventually followed. And I made my own post – and I need to mention: he did not follow me, I did not tag this, any of that – where I just talked about how this was making me uncomfortable and seeing a physically and mentally disabled person disparaging mentally disabled just harms the disabled community as a whole.

Very, very much like how the trans women versus trans men dis – debacle ends up hurting the community as a whole instead of uniting us. So… it felt very relevant to me, and that post surprisingly blew up a bit with a lot of pushback. A lot of people basically saying what I was saying but they didn’t like the way I framed it so… They did not want to acknowledge that we were speaking the same language. And this blew up really, really big. A lot of people going back and forth; it started bringing into question the word cripple itself and the cripplepunk movement. I’ll talk about that in a moment. [I don’t] And it ended with Morg going into someone else’s asks and someone else’s DMs – multiple people – saying I hope you’re happy you won.

And I need to mention: I unfollowed him, and I made this post, and I did not look at his blog again until I saw him post this sorta suicide bait ask in someone else’s ask box. And I did that because I followed him long enough to see him go through a suicide attempt and get put into psychiatric care for about 18 days. I knew his personality enough that I knew that whatever he was posting that it’d be hurtful. I didn’t want to make anymore posts that were even vaguely about him. I’d already gotten into an argument with someone and got called a racist because there was a huge misunderstanding, and they ended up apologizing but we’re still not following each other for a variety of reasons.

But… the suicide baiting ask, and I was like. Great. I know exactly what that is. And this is where I’m going to leave for a bit and talk about myself because… that behavior that I saw in the behavior I saw him displaying afterwards is basically textbook what I did to my friend Sam. And I essentially gave Sam PTSD because there’s still times to this day where he reacts and he thinks I’m gonna do something when I do not.

And that – it is basically a maladaptive coping mechanism where you are being passive aggressive, and you are in pain and it’s very valid pain, be it physical, mental, some combination of both. But you feel like you are alone, and you are lashing out at people because you can’t win. And… everything feels like it was up against you it was your last thing and now you’re just. Cool. Fuck myself, I’m going to kill myself, and I hope all of you regret it.

And this is important to me to talk about because… like I said. I did that. Um… but also, it kinda feeds into some of this pop culture stuff we’ve talked about like 13 Reasons Why. There was a huge hubbub about how in 13 Reasons Why they showed the suicide, that sort of thing. I read the book. I didn’t watch the series because by the time the series came out I had realized that the book was not that great, but it did bring out a lot of discourse that I feel like is important around the idea of suicide.

That being mostly – and this ties back into Morg I swear to god… Um… how you depict suicide is very important. When you have a character who is suicidal and they commit suicide and afterwards, like in 13 Reasons Why, she makes… Okay

If you don’t know what 13 Reasons Why is, it was originally a book, then turned into a Netflix series We’re going to ignore the Netflix series. The book, the character Hannah Baker kills herself, and she leaves 13 tapes behind to be delivered to 13 different people that she blames for her suicide. And this book sorta shows Hannah getting her comeuppance to these people that hurt her.

Why is this a bad thing? Because this book was written for teens, and the Netflix series came out and it was mostly directed towards teens. And there is an established: the more suicide is depicted in a certain way the higher rate of suicide there is. Especially with teens who are very gullible – I apologize. Dory is now acting weird.

Um… and… In 13 Reasons Why in particular because it’s showing Hannah sort of getting her comeuppance, you kinda can instill the idea in people’s brains that “hey if I die I’m going to be able to hurt the people that have been hurting me. And show them that they’re the ones at fault.” Which is not true. What happens if you do commit suicide is you hurt the people that loved you and no one else gives a shit. That’s it.

And… the people that love you may not even grieve as much as you want them to. Or it may not affect them the way you want it to because you can’t control how other people react in their grief. They may not care. They may then go on to hurt themselves. The people that you don’t want to hurt get hurt.

And this ties back into Morg’s behavior because um… after he sent the DMs and the asks I did go onto his blog to see what was going on, to see if he was actually – if he was okay. And he was liveblogging his suicide to a, I assume, semi-substantial number of followers. Because he’s constantly getting engagement, that sort of thing. And me having 300 people following me, I get sorta constant engagement but not nearly as much as he does. He’s a much bigger name in the game so – basically.

And… so he’s liveblogging his suicide and he’s getting people like “oh my god why are you doing this,” he’s getting suicide baiting anons telling him to do it. All of this stuff, and he’s… play – it – not – I don’t think it’s intentional. Because when I was doing it, it was not intentional. But he is aiming to hurt people, and he’s hurting the people that love him the most while the people that have already distanced themselves from him. Are… a lot of them are emotionally mature enough to realize that what he’s going through is not their fault and…

So he’s not hurting the people he wants to hurt. The people that he’s saying “hey you won,” they’re concerned, they don’t want this to happen, but it’s not in their control. And it doesn’t change their opinions on what they were saying.

He survived that attempt, and he then blew up at a lot of people who were openly concerned about him. They did not want him to do this, they thought that maybe he should take a break because it was clear that the people on tumblr were affecting him, and I wholeheartedly agree with them that… this was affecting him. And what he did, he then went and put down the people that were saying “I love you but please you have to take care of yourself. This is not healthy, this is manipulative. I know you’re not meaning to do it in this way but you are. Please take care of yourself.” And he said they never cared about him, “you wouldn’t care if I was gone,” that sort of thing.

It’s… it’s textbook manipulation. And I hate saying that sort of thing because again. I don’t think he’s doing this knowingly, rubbing his little greasy palms together and being like “hahaha, I’m going to make everyone hurt as much as I am. I think he’s just lashing out.

So… when I saw that behavior, I made a post. And he saw it. I didn’t use the correct wording. I said “apparent suicide” meaning “obvious suicide attempt.” But people can easily mistake that for “supposed” or “alleged.” I… own that. However, he then screenshotted that with pills, and that affected me very badly. To the point that I couldn’t sleep without my medication which, yes, I realize I struggle sleeping without my medication anyway, but I’m in the middle of a depressive episode. So… I should be able to sleep. Um, but I did not.

Because I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this person is in such pain, and even though I don’t agree with how he’s handling things, I understand where he’s coming from. Because I am a person with anger issues – I have a very strong anger temper problem that I am actively working on. A big part of my not wanting to wish harm onto people, even people who wish harm to me is… me trying to control the anger that just. Bubbles up naturally.

I actually very badly hurt my sister a couple times as a teenager because of my anger problems. So – I’m working on it. I’m getting a lot better. I feel like I am, but seeing my screenshot with my blog and seeing those pills affected me a lot, and I had started making this video before. But I stopped. When that happened, I deleted everything and left it to the side because I didn’t want to talk about him explicitly.

And he was offline for an entire day. I was getting anons crowing about it, to the point where I turned off anon because it really was affecting me mentally. Even though I was not showing it online. I’m getting a lot better about kinda distancing myself from my online responses, which is good. You kinda need to do that. But I had to turn off anon because I was checking his blog too many times and nothing was changing and it was making me really concerned. And thankfully, a couple of days later, a friend of his came online and said “He’s alive. He’s focusing on his mental health,” and I cannot be more happy.

I have not looked at his blog since. I am assuming he’s still taking care of himself, and I’m hoping that he’s able to recover and realize how harmful his actions are as well as perhaps take a little more responsibility for his actions online. Because… the… liveblogging your suicidality, the outright lying about what other people are saying about you, the gaslighting of your own audience, to say “If you’re claiming that I need to go offline and get help in some shape or form, then you have never cared about me,” that sort of thing.

All of that… it’s toxic, it’s manipulative, it’s gaslighting – it’s like textbook. Not the gaslighting of “oh someone lied to me” or “oh…” whatever. You know. The terms gaslighting, triggered, that sort of thing is being taken way out of context to the point it doesn’t mean anything, but… he legitimately gaslit someone because the anon that I’m referring to mostly later on entered my ask box and was like “Thank you so much for what you said because he had convinced me that I was genuinely in the wrong and I was a bad person.”

Hi Puppy. She’s still upset I took her unicorn.

So that’s what I have to say about that. It’s just – I have a lot of mixed thoughts on stuff like Thirteen Reasons Why and how it does more harm than good. I also have mixed thoughts on the guideline to how show/talk about suicidality. Because I don’t think it is completely right. It kinda gives a very sanitized version and sometimes things are messy and things are difficult and you –

I wanna see that sort of stuff being reflected in the world and our pop culture. I also just want to see people with suicidality not necessarily winning at the end – or losing. I don’t necessarily want them to die. But I want to see that they are just like the rest of us where they are here, they are still here. They are struggling, and they found a person or a group of people that are helping or they have their dog or their plant – I’d love to see that sort of thing. But I definitely don’t think Thirteen Reasons Why is a good way of doing it, nor do I think Morg’s um way of handling his own depression and suicidality, as valid as it is, as valid as that pain is. I don’t think the way he’s using his platform is helpful to him or anyone else that’s following him.

And I know you can be like, “Well, you can just unfollow him” like I did. I ended up blocking him so, thankfully, I avoided any potential “Hey you won. I hope you’re happy” cause that would’ve fucked me up, but um… it’s not so easy for everyone. Because Morg is a person that a lot people care about, there’s a parasocial relationship there, and even I was subjected to it at some point because with his February attempt I did actually try to find out where he was. So that I could see if I could help get him resources or go there and just like physically be there because there’s never been any indication before this that he has a social circle outside of online that can help him.

Thankfully, the friend exists, so I am hoping that they keep ahold of the blog for awhile and he is really able to focus on centering himself.

Yeah, I have been wanting to talk about this for a bit anyway because it’s been on my mind and… I missed y’all. So why not start off with some stuff that could make people very angry with me? Or agree with me, as everything goes. That’s pretty much my life.

Um, but yeah. That’s about it from me. I am going to be trying to upload three days a week like I was planning on before March happened, and I will update y’all. I just read chapter 8 of Whipping Girl. It’s not as bad as the last chapter, I’ll give it for – I’ll give that to it. But… that’s it. If you’re wondering what’s happening in the background that’s Brier playing uh Pokemon Ar-kay-us, Ark-e-us, I don’t know. They’ve been wanting it for awhile and they got a bonus, so we were like “okay. Now buy the game”.

But yeah. Alright. That’s going to be it from me. No more waffling. I’ll talk to y’all later. Bye.

[12tardis]

That's My Jumper (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Warnings: s m u t under the cut

Requested: yes! Lovely anon asked for a part 2 to That’s My Shirt with some s m u t but not too explicit with lots of fluff. I REALLY hope this is okay! Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader

Summary: The Part 2 to That’s My Shirt. You know Newt has a thing for you in his clothes so you decide to pull out the big guns. Enter Theseus who rudely interrupts you two, making a very cranky impatient Newt and unbeknownst to you Theseus sends Newt some inspiration in the form of a book. What happens when you find said book? Lots of flustered and shy Newt in the lead up

A/N: this is my first time writing s m u t so I’m scared and will probably hide away for a bit after this. I hope I haven’t tarnished Newt’s sweet image for anyone BUT CAN I JUST SAY- I reckon. Newt would ABSOLUTELY be a complete Hufflepuff in the bedroom: HARD-working , dedicated and patient. he would absolutely make you fall apart and then put you back together with so many tender cuddles and kisses you would just 💕 *chef kiss* Seriously though I’m S.C.A.R.E.D

Words: a whopping 5,522 (I’m tellin ya Newt doesn’t rush. But also the first like 3000 are fluff)

 It had been a couple of weeks since you’d discovered Newt’s fixation with you in his clothing. You’d learnt of this particular turn on of his when you’d worn one of his shirts to work and had come home to find a rather handsy riled up boyfriend.

 There had been a couple more heated make out sessions since then and a few lingering touches here and there but for the most part, everything remained the same despite your many attempts to engage Newt in some private time.

 To be completely fair though you had both been incredibly busy for the past few weeks. You were working extra hours in the shop to cover for an absent co-worker and Newt had been running himself ragged, tending to some rather high maintenance baby Niffler’s.

 Today finally marked a weekend that the two of you had nothing marked into your schedules, of course Newt still needed to tend to his creatures but at least you could help him. You woke to find that Newt had already risen before you and he was presumably in his case so you rolled out of bed, smiling to yourself when you spotted his favourite jumper discarded on his dresser.

 Newt walked into the kitchen where he could hear you tinkering around not long after, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head when he saw you. You were wearing one of his sweaters and nothing else. He swallowed thickly and stood frozen on the spot as he took in the way the soft knit just barely skimmed to your mid-thigh and you had rolled the sleeves up a dozen times so you could fix breakfast.

 You had let the jumper fall to one side, exposing one of your shoulders completely. “Merlin, help me,” he whispered to himself. You looked like absolute sin and he felt a hot flush spreading as his own shirt felt suddenly too tight around his neck.

 It was the way that you shimmied your hips along to the music you had playing that was the final straw for Newt. And he found himself crossing the kitchen in a few strides, gripping your hips from behind and pressing a series of kisses to your shoulder.

 You yelped in surprise, dropping your wand onto the counter as your hands flew up “Newt! You can’t sneak up on me like that!” you gasped but you leant back into him with a small hum of approval at the new found attention he was lavishing on you.

  Newt kissed his way up from your shoulder, along your neck and to your jaw “couldn’t help it,” he murmured into your ear before he spun you around in his arms, gripping your waist this time as he pressed his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

 You sighed against his lips softly as your hands found their way to his hair and you gave an experimental tug oh his auburn locks, shivering at the deep groan he emitted in response.

 “Newt!”, you gasped when he suddenly lifted you by the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up onto the kitchen counter and moving to stand between your legs before attacking your exposed neck and shoulder with open mouthed kisses, “you’re. wearing. my. jumper”, he grit out lowly between kisses before he grazed his teeth against one particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

 You couldn’t hold back your moan when you felt Newt nipping at your skin, tipping your head back against the kitchen cabinet behind you to give him better access to your neck. “Goodness, Newt”, you whimpered, knowing he was definitely leaving marks behind in his wake.

 Newt paused in his actions, looking up at you quickly when he heard your remark, his thumb rubbing in small circles on your waist “is this okay my angel?” he breathed, looking at you with big eyes.

 You took in the concern in his eyes, feeling nothing but love for the man in front of you seeing him go from needy and commanding to gentle and caring in a matter of seconds. It only fuelled your desire to know that he cared for your wellbeing and comfort so much. “Yes”, you managed to whisper before you tugged him forward by his suspenders, your lips crashing to his messily.

 Newt groaned into the kiss when you pried his lips open with your own and delved your tongue into his mouth. Before you knew it he had worked a hand underneath the fabric of the jumper and was caressing the soft skin of your back as his other hand fell to your knee. You whimpered quietly and arched into his touches, jerking back from the kiss when you heard the doorbell ring.

 “No no no just ignore it,” he breathed out, pressing his lips back to the marks on your neck that he’d just made and you melted back into his arms before the doorbell rang again. You pushed him back firmly with your hands on his chest, ignoring the whine of frustration he let out and twisting out of his arms “I need pants”, you giggled, racing from the room.

 Newt tried to catch you but you were too fast so he huffed to himself, stomping to the front door ready to give the intruder a piece of his mind for rudely interrupting. He flung the door open, running his mouth before he even stopped to think.

 “Theseus, what do you want?”

 Theseus raised his eyebrows as he looked back at his younger brother, taking a few moments to stare back at him dumbly because - did Newt really just use a rude tone with him? “Uh...yeah good to see you too, little brother”, Theseus murmured slowly.

 Newt scratched at the back of his neck and looked back at Theseus’ awkwardly when he realised how blunt he’d just been “sorry...I was just...a little preoccupied” he murmured, scrounging for his words as he stepped aside “do come in.”

 Theseus frowned at Newt’s cagey behaviour, taking in his dishevelled appearance, noticing his crinkled shirt and his hair that was tousled more than usual. He had at least a dozen questions but they all died on his lips when he spotted you wandering into the room, waving happily at him.

 Suddenly everything clicked into place as his eyes honed in on the obvious love bites decorating your neck. Your hair was tousled too and was that Newt’s jumper you were wearing?

 “Ohhhhhhhhh I seeeeee,” Theseus crooned, looking back at his brother with a wide grin and wiggling his eyebrows obnoxiously.

Newt immediately went rigid, standing a little taller because he knew that tone was never a good one. “What? What do you see?” he sighed, his patience once again wearing thin.

 “I’m interrupting your INTIMATE time”, Theseus whispered with a shit eating grin when Newt flushed darkly and began to shake his head violently “no I- we haven’t...you have the wrong idea!” he sputtered and Theseus raised an eyebrow in response “what? You haven’t?” he said with a scandalised expression.

 Newt huffed in embarrassment, only growing more flustered “Theseus, shut up or I swear I will hex y-“, he immediately shut his mouth when you sauntered over to them obliviously, hugging Theseus warmly in greeting before you curled your arm around Newt’s waist. “Theseus! I’m so happy to see you. I was just starting to prepare breakfast, won’t you join us?”

 And Theseus looked back at you with a bright smile, nodding quickly as he shrugged his coat off “Yes, I think I will.” he said before he tossed the coat at Newt, chuckling quietly at the scowl he sent back at him. “I hope I’m not intruding on you two lovebirds”, he added with a wink in Newt’s direction.

                                 *     *     *     *     *     *

Newt legged it to the bedroom when he heard your loud shriek a few hours later, looking at you frantically and letting out a deep breath when he saw you standing in front of the mirror.

 “NEWT you didn’t tell me I had all these hickeys on display all through breakfast!” you cried, tracing your fingertips over the marks.

 Newt let out a sigh, smiling crookedly as he wound his arms around you from behind again, hooking his chin over your shoulder and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve seen Theseus littered with them plenty of times before?” he offered in a lame attempt to quell your embarrassment.

 “Gee thanks that’s makes it all better, Newt”, you scoffed as you rolled your eyes but you couldn’t stay angry long when he was looking back at you with his puppy dog eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me Newton Scamander,” you sighed with a fond smile, turning around in his arms and tucking your face into his neck. 

 And then it was Newt’s turn to be humiliated the next day when Theseus’ owl dropped a parcel for him and he opened it to find a rather well known erotic novel. Newt gasped and quickly tucked it away, double checking he was alone before he peeked into the cover seeing his brother had inscribed it to him.

 Newt,

 This book basically taught me everything I know. Use it wisely.

And you’re welcome.

 -T.S

 Newt stared at the inscription for a few minutes, peeking over his shoulder before he curiously flicked through the book, his cheeks turning beet red and his eyes widening. “Merlin, no” he breathed, quickly stashing the book away thanking the stars that you were at work.                                   *     *    *     *     *     *

A few days later you wandered into Newt’s study where he was hunched over scribbling away in his journal. It was obvious he’d been working hard all day. “Honey, did you remember to eat today?”, you sighed, coming up behind him and gently running your fingers through his hair as you curled your other arm around his shoulders. You already knew the answer because you could see he hadn’t touched any of the food in the pantry or the fridge.

 Newt smiled immediately when he heard you, leaning back into your arms and peering up at you “oh I’m sorry, love. I didn’t even hear you get in,” he said, quickly getting to his feet, taking your hands into his own and smiling apologetically at you “I got a little carried away writing. How was your day?” He gently cupped your cheek in his palm before he made to move towards the kitchen “let me fix you some tea.”

 “Get back here”, you laughed as you caught him by the back of his shirt, tugging him back towards you where you spun him around to face you and curled both of your arms around his neck “where’s my kisses?” you pouted slightly up at him.

 Newt let out a noise of surprise when you hoisted him back, looking down at you with an adoring smile at your expression “oh how rude of me”, he grinned, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle and tender kiss, his hands framing your waist.

 You let out a happy hum against his lips, breaking apart from him for air eventually and pressing a few kisses down the line of his jaw as you took his hands again. You tipped your head aside when you felt his lips brushing against the fading marks on your neck “Wait what is that?”

 You reached behind him, plucking the book Theseus had sent from the bookcase “goodness when did you get this?” and Newt felt his stomach drop and he blushed a deep pink “it’s not mine!” He barked, snatching the book from you quickly “Theseus sent it- I didn’t ask him to! He said- well he said it was a good place for me to learn. I swear to you I-I didn’t buy it!” He stammered, looking back at you desperately as he opened the book to show you Theseus’ handwriting.

 “Newt honey relax. Breathe!”, you cut in when you saw how worked up he was getting, cupping his face firmly in your hands and looking him in the eyes “My love I’m not upset. I believe you, it seems exactly the sort of thing your brother would do,” you said rolling your eyes fondly.

 “But even if you did buy it yourself I wouldn’t be angry.”

 Newt looked back at you with wide eyes, feeling a flood of relief to know you weren’t upset with him “you’re not angry?” He repeated, looking at you still somewhat anxiously and you couldn’t help but smile at how adorably flustered he was “no of course not. I know we’re learning a lot of new things together and I want you to be comfortable so if reading this“, you took the book from his hand and held up up between you both “helps you feel confident then I’m completely on board.”

 Newt bit his lip when you pried the book from his grasp, shaking his head and taking it back from you “even so, it’s not mine and I’m not taking any advice from my brother,” he turned around to shove the book into his desk drawer but he realised his mistake when you spotted the other book he had stashed away there. The book he actually had been studying.

 You snatched the book up, your mouth dropping open when you realised it was a muggle book on human arousal and anatomy and now it was your turn to grow flustered. “W-What’s this one?”, you squeaked out.

 Newt quickly took the book and set it down on his desk, taking your hands in his own as yet another blush flooded his cheeks “well, when Theseus did send me that book I couldn’t help but think doing a little research- some proper research wouldn’t hurt” he explained slowly, watching you closely and noting the way your eyes had darkened ever so slightly.

 “I wanted to know how to make you feel good, to know how to make you comfortable and to make sure you enjoy our time together. So I got this from a muggle store a few days ago,” he murmured, looking back at you shyly now because you were staring at him with a new intensity.

 You bit down on your lip hard as you grappled with the fact that your sweet, caring and innocent boyfriend had gone out of his way to buy such a book. In a public setting at that! And all for your benefit. You couldn’t deny the heat that was growing in your stomach, imagining Newt studying the book while you were at work.

“Did you...have you read a lot?”, you asked eventually.

 And Newt smiled sheepishly back at you, nodding slowly as he scratched at the back of his neck, willing the ground to swallow him whole now. “Y/N it’s not...I love you. And I love our time together, and I only ever want you to be comfortable. And if we’re never ready to take anything further then that’s completely fine with me. I can die happy just getting to spend my days with you,” he said honestly, beginning to ramble on nervously again.

 “I just-I thought perhaps over the past few weeks that we were headed in that direction. I’m so sorry if I had the wrong idea. I would never ever push you to do anything you didn’t want to do I w-“

 You cut him off with a gentle kiss, gripping him by his shirt collar and pulling back with coy smile “Relax, my love,” you murmured, tangling your fingers in his hair and scratching at his scalp like you knew always calmed him down “we are most definitely headed in that direction.”

                         *     *     *     *     *     *

You could tell Newt was reluctant to touch you or kiss you anything beyond short and sweet over the next few days, obviously still nervous he had overstepped his boundaries. You weren’t sure how many different ways you could tell him you weren’t upset with him.

 You had been trying coax him along, attempting to deepen your kisses each time he would actually touch you but you were left increasingly frustrated when he would pull away from you, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple before he would retreat into his case. You were going to have to persuade him another way.

 Newt was sat in his study, reading over his notes but his mind was fixated on you. He felt guilty because it was the weekend and he should have been spending quality time with you but he was too ashamed to even be around you after that episode a few days ago. He loved and cherished you more than you could ever know and he was angry with himself thinking he may have lead you to feel uncomfortable.

 Of course all he had to do was actually listen to a word you had said to him, but he was too busy being caught up in his own mind like he always was when it came to you. He had just built the resolve to go and talk to you and apologise properly as he pushed back from his desk and turned to the door. But his mind went completely blank when he saw you.

 You’d been standing in the doorway behind him for some time now, wearing his shirt. The same shirt that had started this whole thing all those weeks ago but this time you wore the shirt with nothing else but your lingerie. You were fidgeting with the cuffs self-consciously as you debated running away and ditching your plan altogether but when you saw the ravenous expression on Newt’s face you felt your confidence build.

 “Y/N”, he choked out as you slowly sauntered over to him and he was gaping at you, not quite knowing where to look as he took you in. His palms were itching to touch you as he took in the way the hem of the shirt grazed the top of your thighs and he felt his mouth run dry as his eyes trailed down from your face to your chest, seeing how you’d left most of the buttons undone, allowing him to see the most tantalising strip of skin. He was definitely sweating now.

 His reactions only spurred you on and you gripped his shoulders as you slowly straddled him on his chair, sucking in a breath when you noticed how dark his eyes had turned.

“Y/N...Merlin my darling you look absolutely incredible. Are you trying to kill me?” he breathed, his hands coming to rest on your hips and you realised he was obviously trying not to stare at your body and holding himself back from touching you like he really wanted to. That wouldn’t do.

  You took his hands in your own, pushing down your own nerves as you pressed your lips to his in a heated kiss, guiding his hands up to your breasts. Newt groaned against your lips, cupping your breasts firmly in his large hands, a shiver running down his spine when you moaned in response and arched into him.

 Newt was quick to take the opportunity to delve his tongue into your mouth, his tongue brushing with yours. And when you broke apart from him for air he tucked his face to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses along your skin, nipping at your flesh before he soothed his tongue over the same spot. “Newt”, you gasped out, gripping his shoulders tightly.

 Newt closed his eyes tightly as he skimmed one hand down to rest on your thigh, his fingertips teasing at your inner thigh “tell me what you want, Y/N” he murmured eventually, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest only causing you to feel even more worked up. “I need to hear your words, angel” he said right into your ear when you still didn’t answer him.

 You gripped his shoulders tightly as you let out a quiet whimper at his tone. Your heart was racing wildly in your chest as you felt simultaneously shy and turned on all at once. You forced yourself to look at him despite how shy you suddenly felt “I want you...to show me what you learnt from that book”, you said, rocking your hips down against his experimentally and biting back a moan when you felt his tell-tale hardness against you through his pants.

 Newt gritted his teeth from the pleasure that rippled through him, gripping your hips firmly in his hands to still you. He didn’t allow himself to get carried away just yet as he fixed you with a serious expression. “Darling girl, are you sure? You know your comfort is all that matters to me. I will wait my whole life if I need to”, he murmured, pushing his arousal aside for the time being to make sure you were entirely confident in your decision.

 “I’m sure Newt. I’ve been sure all week but you would barely look at me,” you sighed, moving to wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead to his “I love you and I know I’m always safe in your hands. If you’re comfortable, I want you to show me all the new things you’ve learnt.”

 Newt nodded and cupped your cheek gently, looking back at you “I love you. So very much.”, he whispered before he stood up, hoisting you up in his arms by the backs of your thighs in one fluid motion, the mood immediately shifting back to one of passion and lust.

 He carried you through the flat easily, shoving the bedroom door open and then laying you down on the bed, wasting no time in lowering himself over you, pinning you down and looking at you with the same ravenous expression from earlier “you have no idea how utterly sinful you look right now”, he breathed out as he slowly skimmed his hands down your waist to your thighs again.

 He captured your lips in a deep kiss, rolling his hips down against yours with a low groan as he gripped the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss to look up at you in question “angel, do you want to keep this on?” he practically purred out, nipping at your earlobe as he tugged at the fabric of the hem teasingly.

 You gasped when you felt his teeth against you, your hips bucking up on their own accord, drawing another groan from him “k-keep it on. But...but keep going” you stuttered, parting your legs for him as you felt the heat building between them.

 Newt nodded and began to trail kisses down your neck and down the valley of your breasts, stopping occasionally as he muttered sweet words at you “so gorgeous for me...so beautiful and stunning. Can you feel what you do to me?” he murmured, rocking his hips against yours, grinding his hard bulge against your mound, relishing the noises of pleasure you made in response.

 You had to admit you were taken aback by how vocal and chatty he was being but you couldn’t get enough of it, knowing you could work yourself up into a frenzy just listening to him talk. He was busy peppering your bra clad cleavage with kisses as he slowly trailed a hand up under the hem of the shirt, his fingertips barely brushing the edge of your panties before he paused to peer up at you again “May I?”

 Your lips parted with a small gasp as you felt his hand slip between your legs and you nodded quickly, looking down at him desperately when he didn’t move his hand any further “angel, I need to hear you”, he repeated his sentiment from earlier but this time much firmer, causing you to bite your lip and whimper quietly.

 “Yes Newt, please touch me,” you felt your cheeks warm at your wanton tone but Newt simply pressed another set of kisses down your throat as he cupped your warm mound over your panties in one swift movement, his cock jerking in his slacks at the wetness he felt on his palm.

 You let out another gasp as you arched your hips up into his touch, tugging him up by his shirt and kissing him deeply. Newt felt like a man possessed with every beautiful noise you let out and he kissed you back eagerly as he began to rub over your mound slowly but firmly, his fingertips teasing at the edge of your panties with each pass.

 He paused again when his fingertips found their way into the top band of your panties and you nodded wildly before he could question you again “Yes Newt please!”, your pleading turning into a breathy moan when he slipped his hand into your panties quickly, rubbing his fingers over your wet slit as he sucked at the sensitive skin of your neck.

 His hand delved lower between your thighs until his long pointer finger was running over your entrance and he used his thumb to rub at the small nub between your folds experimentally, pleased with himself when you cried out and jerked against him in pleasure “Merlin, Newt! Do that again”

 He hummed against your shoulder in concentration as he worked on repeating the same motion, rubbing you clit in small circles while focusing on each and every sound you were making, making a mental note of what you enjoyed.

 “You’re so beautiful my angel”, Newt murmured, looking up at you and trying to commit your expression of pleasure to his memory. He was truly a man possessed now as he dedicated himself to drawing those incredible sounds from you, skimming his other hand up and down your body slowly, noting every single area of sensitive skin that had you gasping or arching into his touch.

 “Do you want my mouth on you, darling?”

 You looked back at him with big eyes, swallowing thickly “I don’t...know what you mean”

 Newt smiled against your shoulder, propping himself up on his elbows to gaze down at you “I’ll show you but remember. You’re in control here my love”, he murmured seriously, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips “you’re the one in control here. Anything you don’t like, or even not sure about- you tell me and I’ll stop okay?”

 He waited for your affirmation before he began to trail kisses down your body, looking up at you when his face was finally nestled between your legs and he held your gaze as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh causing you to shiver, your hands bunching into the sheets below you in anticipation.

 Newt kissed over your thighs, sucking a few little marks to your soft skin as he hooked his fingers in the waist band of your panties, slowly peeling them down and off of you, letting out a breath at the sight of your wet slit. “Y/N, you are perfect”, he whispered, reaching up to take one of your hands, threading his fingers with yours as he slowly lowered his mouth to your pulsing mound, licking a broad stripe up your centre and closing his eyes when you bucked your hips in response.

 “NEWT!”, you were panting now as you gripped his hand in your own, your other hand flying to weave into his hair on its own accord and you cried out when he hummed against you in response.

 He used his tongue to stimulate your throbbing clit as he slowly sunk a finger inside you, his mouth dropping open at the feeling of your velvet walls accommodating him, your muscles clamping down on his one digit. “Y/N,” he whispered, grinding his own hips into the bed while you threw your head back in pleasure, feeling completely overwhelmed from the pleasure your boyfriend was bringing you.

 “Baby, tell me how that feels?” he looked up at you as he crooked the finger inside of you, taking in the way you gasped and whined when he rubbed over a particular spot inside you. You were too far gone in your pleasure to string a coherent sentence together so he relied on your little gasps and moans to make sure you were enjoying what he was doing.

 He carefully worked a second finger inside you, completely entranced watching you accommodate the extra intrusion. And once both fingers were buried inside you he sealed his lips around your clit, sucking and then groaning loudly against you when you tugged on his hair in response, rolling your hips up against him

 “Newt, oh my stars Newt!”

 He continued to work thrust his fingers inside of you, making sure to pass over that spot on each stroke and when he thought you were close to your release he moved back up your body. He tucked his face of your shoulder, pressing kiss after kiss to your delicate skin, holding you close against him as he worked his fingers even faster and deeper inside of you, his thumb rubbing at your clit in tight circles.

 “Let go for me, angel. Let yourself go”, he murmured lowly into your ear, watching you in rapt concentration as you tensed up not a moment later, crying out loudly as you clenched around his fingers rhythmically. “That’s it, darling girl. Just like that.”

 Newt skimmed his lips over your love bites as he rubbed you through your release, carefully working his fingers free and holding you close, his hands soothing over your back as you worked through the aftershocks.

 He pressed kiss after kiss to your head, once again murmuring sweet nothings to you and you melted in his arms, your body going completely lax.

 “Oh, darling you don’t have to”, he murmured, gripping your wrist when you worked your hand down his body.

 “But I want to Newt, I wanna make you feel good too,” you said honestly as you continued to trail your hand down to the button of his pants.

 Newt shook his head, taking your hand and lifting it to his mouth to brush his lips over it “this was about you, angel,” he murmured, smiling sheepishly at you a moment later “besides I already...uh...”, he trailed off with a blush, cringing slightly at the sticky sensation he now noticed in his pants.

 “You...oh!”, you breathed with wide eyes when you finally understood what he’d meant, pressing your lips to his in a soft and reassuring kiss, a little flattered by the notion anyway. “Well, I’d like to read that book of yours. So I can know how to make you feel good.”

 Newt blushed even more at the images that he conjured up then, pressing another series of gentle kisses to your jaw “I somehow think you won’t be needing it,” he smiled, holding his hands up at the look you shot him in response “okay okay if it will make you happy then of course! I’m just saying you always make me feel good anyway,” he murmured as he slowly sat up to go and clean himself up.

 You sat up with him, cupping his cheek in your palm as you looked back at him lovingly “that was incredible. You were incredible. I’ve never felt so much...so good before,” and you smiled adoringly when he smiled widely back at you in pride, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips “I love you”, he murmured as he got up to his feet and headed for the bathroom.

 You watched him wander off, laying back on the bed with a blissed out smile “you should you know?” you called out after him.

 And Newt glanced back over his shoulder at you in confusion before he stepped into the en-suite “should what?”

 “You should thank your brother!”, you shouted to him, giggling at the noise of shock he let out in response.

 “I will do no such thing! He is to know nothing about any of this. Ever”, he muttered and he was back your side on a flash, clambering back into the bed and wrapping his arms around you, tugging the blankets up around you both before he relaxed.

 “He is the one that got you this shirt though”, you teased after a moment, giggling again at the dark expression that crossed Newt’s face.

 “Y/N! I don’t want to hear you mention my brother again in our bed.” he huffed out, scowling at you when you continued to laugh.

 “You’re just so cute when you’re jealous”, you cooed, skimming your fingertips through his hair soothingly.

 “I’m NOT jealous. I’m just territorial.” he said simply as he skimmed his thumb over some of the marks he’d made on your neck. And he smiled when it was your turn to grow flustered.

 “I mean that in the sense that you are my pride and my heart- not an item to be owned,” he murmured and you looked back at him, shaking your head as your felt your heart somehow fill with even more love for this man that never seemed to stop taking your breath away. PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS! 

 -MASTERLIST HERE- 

[calamitykaty]

Soulmates

Reggie Peters x Fem Reader

Word count:3000+

A sweet fic for my sweet soulmate @alexpjoyner

Y/N sat tucked away in the corner of the coffee shop, her glasses perched at the tip of her nose and her eyebrows pinched together making her worry lines stand out. The yellow #2 pencil that was in her left hand was being gnawed at by her teeth. The small circle table was littered with textbooks and loose-leaf paper, coffee stains evident on her English assignment.

 Her attention was broken by the loud laughter that followed a set of rowdy teenage boys. Her eyes briefly met the eyes belonging to the leather-clad boy, Reggie, before she let them fall back to her assignment, a light blush dusting her cheeks. 

She knew all about Reggie, everyone did. He was only the overly confident and extremely handsome bassist for Sunset Curve, and he happened to attend her high school. Y/N like to think that she wasn’t just part of the status-quo but she too had a school-girl crush on Reggie. 

“Hola, Chica!” 

Y/N dropped her pencil into the fold of her book and closed the cover as her best friend, Rose, pushed her papers back towards her and sat down. 

“I know I’m pretty but why are you blushing?” 

“I’m not blushing…”

Rose let her eyes roam around the small room before her eyes landed on the most likely culprit. 

“I don’t know why you don’t just talk to him, y/n.” 

Y/N tucked a stray hair that had fallen into her face back behind her left ear with one hand while the other pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. She glanced over at Reggie,  his back facing hers and his hands gesturing excitedly as he explained something to his bandmates, though from the looks on their faces they weren’t nearly as enthused as him. 

“...because...he’s him...and I’m,” Y/n threw her hands up, gesturing at herself, “I’m me.” 

Rose rolled her eyes at her friend’s explanation or lack thereof. “Okay, one-” Rose held up her pointer finger, “he’s not nearly as cool as you seem to think he is and two--” she lifted her middle finger, “you being you is the best, you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re pretty---”

“And you’re obligated to say those things as my best friend so….” Y/N huffed out stubbornly.

Rose’s lips were stretched into a tight line as she pushed her chair back against the beige tiled floor, her eyes set on the group of noisy boys. 

“W-what are you doing?” Y/N asked, panicked. 

Rose ignored her friend and let her feet carry her over to the boys. She propped her left elbow up on Bobby’s shoulder. The brown-haired boy looked up at her from where he was seated and smiled, “Hey, Ro!” 

“Yeah, Ro, hey!” Luke chortled, his eyebrows dancing and his eyes locked on Bobby. Alex jabbed his elbow into the shaggy-haired boy’s ribs, eliciting a quiet “Ow!” 

“Anyways,” Rose rolled her eyes, “I’m gonna bring a friend to watch your band practice tonight.”

“Are you asking or?” Alex probed. 

“Not really!” Rose let her elbow drop from Bobby’s shoulder and sauntered back across the cafe to Y/N’s table. 

“They said you can come to band rehearsal tonight,” Rose said matter of factly, sliding back into her chair. 

Y/N shook her head vigorously, “No, nope….No! Absolutely not!” 

“You have to! They’re expecting you and it would be rude if you didn’t show.” Rose half-shrugged and burst into a fit of giggles at the scowl that Y/N shot her way. 

‘“Stop meddling in my life….” Y/N grumbled, her arms crossed tightly across her chest and the tops of her ears tinged pink. She gathered her papers into a neat pile and placed them inside the textbook before dropping everything into her backpack. 

“So...this means you’re going, right?” Rose drummed on both of her knees excitedly.

Y/N pushed her chair back and slung her backpack over her left shoulder before sliding the chair back in. She purposefully ignored the question until they both stood outside of the cafe. She stopped and turned to Rose, staring at her with a deadpan expression as the girl bounced on her toes. 

“What time?” 

Rose lunged at her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, squealing “7pm! It’s gonna be great!!!” 

Several hours later, Y/N found herself standing outside of Bobby’s detached garage. She was an hour late and she could hear the four teens already practicing inside. She nervously wrung her hands together and took a deep breath, slowly exhaling before she pulled the doors open. She could feel her ears burning as all four boys stopped playing at separate times and stared at her. Her eyes quickly darted to Rose who was perched on top of the sofa. 

Rose hopped off of the sofa and skipped over to Y/N, throwing her arm around her shoulders and pulling her into the garage. 

“Boys!” Rose chirped, “this is Y/N,” she dropped her arm from Y/N’s shoulders and held both hands out showing Y/N off like a prize on The Price is Right. Y/N awkwardly threw her right hand up and waved at the four boys. 

“I’m Lu--”

“You don’t have to introduce yourselves, I know who you guys are!” Y/N rushed out as Luke began to introduce himself. She could feel the red of her ears move down to her neck as the embarrassment moved through her body. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked over at Rose, pleading for her to save her. 

“You guys can continue, we’ll just be over here ignoring you!” Rose pursed her lips and grabbed her elbow, pulling her over to the sofa. 

Y/N sunk down into the soft cushions of the sofa and bobbed her head as the boys started from the second verse of Now or Never. She tried her best to keep her eyes on her lap but every now and then she would look up and let her eyes gravitate towards Reggie who would shoot her a wink. 

“Someone can’t keep his eyes off of you,” Rose sang out to Y/N. 

“Shut up!” Y/N hissed quietly and threw her elbow into Rose’s side. 

“I’m just sayin’” Rose wiggled her eyebrows at the girl, drawing a rosy blush to Y/N’s cheeks. 

Y/N looked over at Reggie as he set his bass guitar down into the stand before he wiped the sweat from his forehead. 

“Go talk to him!” Rose urged and pushed against her friend's shoulder. 

“About what? I hardly know him!” Y/n argued, stubbornly. 

“Reg!” Rose called out, grabbing the boys attention. Reggie turned around and lifted his eyebrows at Rose in question. 

Rose looked over at Y/N before looking back at Reggie and smiling, “did you know that Y/N holds the top score on Centipede at The Basement Arcade?” 

Reggie furrowed his brows and crossed his arms over his chest, “that can’t be true! I just took that spot last week!” 

“So you’re the RP that keeps fighting me for the top spot then?” Y/N narrowed her eyes at the boy but couldn’t stop the laugh that followed her question. 

Reggie let his arms fall to his sides and looked at her with his mouth agape, “ I challenge you! I challenge you to an arcade face off tomorrow at 6pm!” 

“Okay?” Y/N agreed unsurely.

“It’s a date then!” Reggie declared before walking over to the sofa and holding his hand out to Y/N. She hesitantly placed her hand in his and laughed as Reggie gave it a firm shake. 

“Okay...yeah. It’s a date.” Y/N agreed and let her hand fall back into her lap. 

“Looks like my work here is done!” Rose teased and pulled herself up from the sofa. She grabbed Y/N’s hands and pulled her up as well. 

Y/N said goodbye to each of the boys and was nearly out of the garage when Reggie called out 

“Wait! What’s your address? I’ll pick you up!” 

-------

They were surrounded by flashing lights, the sound of buzzers and pinball paddles being jammed harshly filled the room of the small arcade. Y/N looked over at Reggie as he lunged the small orange basketballs as fast as possible towards the hoop, his brows furrowed as he concentrated. A small frown formed on his face as the balls continuously hit the rim and bounced back towards him.

 The clock counted down the last 15 seconds and Reggie picked up the pace, throwing the balls at increased speed in hopes of getting several more points. He hadn’t even noticed that Y/N had stopped tossing her basketballs a good 45 seconds before him or that she had sunk nearly every basket that she threw or that she was easily beating his score before she bowed out to give him a chance. She had already beaten him at air hockey, overtook his top score on Centipede, and embarrassed him at skeeball. 

The buzzer on the machine rang out and Reggie anxiously looked at his score before leaning over to look at hers.

 An ecstatic smile lit up his face and he threw his hands in the air above his head in triumph and shouted “FINALLY!”

Y/N burst into giggles at the boy, her right hand instinctively covered her mouth. Her bottom front teeth slightly over-lapped and she had always been insecure about it. 

Reggie cocked his head and watched the girl as she laughed. His eyes held adoration at the way her nose crinkled at the top of her bridge and the way her cheeks pushed against her eyes so that they were just barely open. Without a moment of hesitation, he grabbed her hand in his and lowered it from her mouth, his palm felt hot in hers and his fingers slipped into the spaces between hers like a perfect puzzle. 

“I like your smile.” The words pushed against his lips with confidence but his red-tinged ears that accompanied his rosy cheeks gave his nerves away. 

He reached down with his left hand and grabbed the bucket that held their tickets before he tugged y/n towards the counter to turn the tickets in. 

“You could have told me you were so good at arcade games so I wouldn’t be out here embarrassing myself on our first date, ya know.” 

Y/n watched as the teenager behind the counter ran their combined tickets into the ticket counting machine. She looked over at Reggie and smiled, “ I didn’t expect you to be so bad, honestly. Maybe next time we just go play with puppies at Bonnie’s pet store, I’m positive you’d be great at that!”

Reggie dropped her hand in favor of placing both of his hands over his heart, a look of shock on his face at her words before he burst into laughter. 

“350 tickets, you can choose from these three sections.” The red-headed teenager pointed at the different things they could choose from. 

Y/N bounced on her toes and pointed at the small stuffed horse that would take 300 tickets. She pulled it to her chest and looked over at Reggie. 

“You can have the rest!” 

Reggie picked a multi-color friendship bracelet, a Rubik’s cube keychain, and a few pixie sticks. He shoved everything but the bracelet into the pocket of his leather jacket before he reached out for her left wrist. His bottom lip was tugged into his mouth, held by his top teeth as his fingers carefully tied the bracelet around her wrist.

“Your hand is cold...” Reggie stated absentmindedly as he tugged the knot securely, “you wanna grab a hot chocolate?”

Y/N pulled her wrist up to her face and examined the colorful bracelet before letting her arm drop back to her side and nodding, “yeah, that sounds good!”

The pair trekked outside and down the block where Rick’s pop up stand for hot chocolate was set up under a streetlamp. Y/N admired her winnings while Reggie quietly hummed a tune to himself that she had never heard before. 

‘What is that?” Y/N finally asked as the boy started the song over for the third time. 

“What’s what?” Reggie asked, his eyes darting around for what he was supposed to be looking for. 

“No,” y/n giggled, “the song, what’s the song that you’ve been humming.” 

“Oh...that...” Reggie’s right hand ruffled through his hair nervously. 

“Two hot chocolates, please!” Y/N quickly placed two dollars down on the cart before Reggie could. Rick shook his head at the two teens and poured two cups of hot chocolate with whipped topping into two styrofoam cups and handed them over with a “you kids have fun!”

“So?” Y/N looked up at Reggie expectantly as they made their way back towards the arcade. 

"Promise you won't laugh?" 

"I promise to try to not laugh," y/n compromised. 

“I guess I can settle with that,” Reggie nodded and took a deep breath in before he quietly sang out the chorus that he had been humming. 

Home is where my horse is

Riding through trees by the river

Feel that summer breeze, a smile gettin’ bigger

Home is where my horse is

Don’t need a house or a roof

I just lace up my saddle, lace up my boots  

Cuz home is where my horse is

As the last word hung in the air, Reggie quickly brought the cup of hot chocolate to his lips and took a large gulp. Y/N hadn’t laughed so he took that as a good sign as he finally let his head turn to the left to look over at her. 

“Sunset Curve goes country, I can get down with that movement, “ Y/N shrugged. 

“R-r-really?” Reggie sputtered out, hot chocolate dribbling down his chin as he did so. 

“Yeah, I mean..it’s kinda catchy.” Y/N said and began to hum the song to herself, “see, already stuck in my head!” 

“You should come to the next band rehearsal and help me convince the other guys. That’s what I was trying to sell them on at the cafe the other day.” 

Reggie threw his cup into a trash can at the edge of the sidewalk as they walked by. His rosy cheeks became inflamed when the cup hit the rim of the metal can and tumbled to the ground. 

“Careful, if you keep making shots like that I may have to start calling you Jim McIlvaine,” Y/N joked as Reggie sheepishly chased the cup down the sidewalk before tossing it into the trash can. 

“You can call me Larry Bird, though,” she said as she effortlessly tossed her cup into the trash can as she walked backwards. Reggie poked his bottom lip out and pouted as he jogged to catch up with her. 

“Something tells me you let me win that last game in the arcade.” 

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and let a playful smile play on her lips as she said “maybe you just had a sudden rush of NBA prowess in you back then and now it’s gone.”

Reggie slowed his pace as his 1992 silver honda civic came into view, the last car that sat in the arcade parking lot. It was only going to be a ten-minute drive for him to drop Y/N off at her house and he wasn’t quite ready for the night to end. He absentmindedly tossed his keys into the air and caught them several times before stopping at his car. Reggie leaned his back against the passenger's side of the car and looked up at the sky. The lights of the parking lot polluted the view of the stars. 

Y/N stood in front of Reggie with her left hand wrapped around her right wrist and her eyes focused on Reggie’s black boots. 

“I had fun tonight.” She finally said and looked up at the same time that Reggie let his head fall down from the stars, both of their cheeks were glowing with a red hue as their eyes met. 

“I did too,” Reggie agreed, “actually, this is probably the most fun I’ve ever had with anyone outside of the band.”

“You’re not just saying that, right? You actually mean it?” Y/N implored. 

Reggie cocked his head to the side with his brows pulled forward, the line between his brows crinkling. 

‘Of course, I mean it, why wouldn’t I?” 

Y/N let her eyes fall back down to Reggie’s boots as she shrugged, “I dunno, I mean…” she hesitated, slightly embarrassed about being vulnerable in front of him, “you’re...you’re in a band and you’re cool.... I mean...I hang out in the library and people watch. We're practically from different worlds." 

Reggie pushed himself off of the car and closed the distance between the two. He took both of her hands in his and let his fingers fall into the spaces between hers. Y/N felt her heart pounding against her ribcage and prayed that he couldn’t hear it. 

Reggie smiled softly at her before letting his eyes fall down to their intertwined hands for a moment while he gathered his thoughts. 

“I know we don’t know each other that well yet,” he paused to swallow his nerves and licked his dry lips, “but I wish you could see yourself the way that I see you right now in this moment. Because when I look at you, it’s like finding a four leaf clover...like I’ve been searching for you for an eternity and I can’t believe how lucky I am when my eye finally catches you.” 

Y/N slowly tugged her hands free from Reggie’s, the boy was taken aback by the response and opened his mouth to apologize only to find that his words were cut off by her lips crashing clumsily against his. 

“I-I’m sorry!’ Y/N stuttered out as she pulled away. Reggie placed his hand on the nape of her neck and pulled her lips back to his, the kiss slower and with more intention than the first. Both teens pulled away with heaving chests and flushed cheeks. 

Y/N looked down at her watch and looked back up at Reggie, “you know...we do have half an hour before Bonnie’s closes…”

Reggie moved aside and opened the passenger door for her before quickly running around the car to get to the driver’s side. He turned the key several times, the ignition switch fighting back against him before the engine finally turned over. He pushed the cassette the was popper slightky out of the slot back into the player and turned the volume up. 

“you listen to Make Out Monday?!” Y/N exclaimed with excitement as the words I'm kissaphobic don't wanna get too close to you… floated through his partially blown speakers. 

“They're my favorite band!” They both said at the same time and burst into laughter. Y/N reached forward and turned the volume up a tad bit more. Reggie drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove and harmonized with the vocalists while Y/N threw all abandon to the wind and sang off-key alongside him. 

They made it to Bonnie’s with fifteen minutes to spare and rushed towards the pet store. Y/N quickly made her way to the counter and signed the puppy form that would allow them into the puppy play area. 

Reggie watched as several puppies rushed over to Y/N, the girl fell onto her back and laughed as they nipped at her fingers and nudged their cold noses against her skin.

Reggie found himself staring at her with a lopsided smile, adoration in his eyes and a sleeping puppy on his lap. 

Y/N couldn't believe that what started as a hesitant agreement to an unofficial date had turned into the best night of her life. They didn't know it then, but that date would be the start to a life long love affair. 

@straywonpil @siennanoelle01 @choppedhoundsludgeclod @cool-ultra-nerd @hxney-bunches-x @crybabyddl @sorryyoureoutofmyleague @dream-a-little-bigger-x @kcd15 @all-in-fangirl @ifilwtmfc @onlygetaway @iainttakingshitfromnobody @angryknighttreeprune​  @bathtimejish​ @lanasfandoms @miranda0102 @emotionalbruv @aliandthephantoms @multifandombabies @kinda-really-lost @5sosmukefan @alexpjoyner @mo-d3ans @hannahhistorian92 @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic @sunflowerbecca @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @n0wornever​

[shades-of-stony]

ABO Stony AUs! (Part 2)

As promised, here is part 2! [link to Part 1] I’m not sure if I’m gonna make part 3 but there are still a bit ABO fics left. 

A King For Christmas by iam93percentstardust

Summary: In 1867, Tony Stark flees New York after refusing to marry the alpha his parents chose for him. His money runs out in the small kingdom of Dacia, ruled over by King Steven of the Rogers line. Somehow, and he’s not entirely sure how, he ends up accepting the position of nanny to the king’s four children: Harley, Peter, Sarah, and Morgan.

Tony bonds with the children easily but their father is harder to get to know. Steve is still grieving his wife’s death four years earlier. His continued mourning has turned the once bright halls into dark and somber shadows of their former glory. Tony isn’t entirely certain what he can do but he knows that he has to do something or else the whole country, so attuned to their leader, will sink into despair. He begins by reconciling the king with his young children.

Meanwhile, the children have decided that it’s high time their father fall in love again—and Tony is the obvious choice. They concoct elaborate plans to force the two together, hardly realizing that Steve and Tony are falling in love, not through their shenanigans but through the quiet moments they share bonding over the love they have for the children.

What, Like It’s Hard? by JehBeeEh

Summary: Omega Tony Stark has it all, until his alpha boyfriend breaks his heart. In an effort to win him back, he follows the alpha of his dreams to Harvard Law School, where he discovers there might be more to being the first omega at the prestigious school. He also meets another alpha that might just make him forget the one he drove across the country for.

Two-Point Perspective by FestiveFerret for sabrecmc

Dear omega,

Congratulations! You've been selected. Alpha #95847872 has been assigned as your pre-bondee. A group bonding ceremony will take place on the 14th, unless other arrangements have been made by your alpha or their family. A valid bonding license must be submitted to Omega Services within 45 days of this letter or all services will be cancelled and any transferable benefits will not be applied to your alpha's package.

If there is some reason why you cannot be bonded on this date, please apply for an extension by calling 1-800-555-6827 within 7 days of receiving this letter.

Sincerely, National Omega Services

I Love You (From the Bottom to the Top) by RomancebyFaye for Reioka

Summary: Steve and Tony have a great relationship. They may have only been dating for a few months, but the truth is, they had been in love for years before that. Their relationship is only getting better from adding this new intimacy and Steve is very satisfied with how open Tony is in the bedroom. He’s giving and generous, sometimes to a fault, just as he is with everything.

And then Steve comes home early and catches sight of something he wasn’t meant to see. The shock he gets from the sight of watching his alpha ride a toy might not have been meant for him, but it doesn't stop him from wanting.

Now, if he can just figure out how to tell Tony how much he wants what he witnessed without putting his foot in his mouth…

Or Tony offers Steve something in the bedroom and Steve misunderstands the offer.

Until he doesn’t.

A Prime, Divided by avengersasssemble

Summary: Facing his and his infant son's possible death sentence, young prince Tony runs away to the only place where his father would dare not follow: the Northern Territories, known to house the most savage and brutal Alphas--including their bloodthirsty leader, the Prime Alpha. Forced to navigate fatherhood and diplomacy while being unable to speak the Northern language, Tony has to make decisions to save his son, even at his own expense.

Oversight by ShyOwl

Summary: It really wasn’t Steve’s fault that no one knew he was an omega.

I Love You 3000 by NazakiSama166

Summary: After the death of his husband, the only thing Steven Rogers could think of was going on and dying in one of his missions, and Steven was happy to get his wish.... that was until he woke up in a strange universe when people can shift into wolves and men can get pregnant... Oh, and did he mention that Tony was there too and was in love with his younger jackass self? And let's not forget about Peggy...

Life just loves to mess with him...

Dear Enemy by AvengersNewB

Summary: Alpha Steve and omega Tony are SHIELD agents who don't always see eye to eye, but some benefits on the side help them work things out in the most non-traditional way. Steve's jealousy after an unfortunate encounter with Ty Stone, however, makes things complicated.

Love Match by FestiveFerret

Summary: Tony had but one goal for the season: secure a marriage proposal from an alpha with the position and means enough to remove him from his father's house. Love was wholly irrelevant to the matter. 

Stuck in a... by  Annie D (scaramouche)

Summary: Steve gets into a serum-enhanced rut. Tony figures that there’d be a long list of people who’d volunteer to help Steve out, but there’s only one person Steve wants.

A Late-Night Snacks, and Other Good Ideas by  Annie D (scaramouche)

Summary: Steve's heightened senses means that he always knows when Tony's in heat. One night, he finally does something about it.

citrus and lavender by JehBeeEh  

Summary: Steve laid Tony on his bed as delicately as he could manage. Which was ridiculous because he knew, logically, that Tony was absolutely fine. JARVIS himself had told him. And that’s 100% why he had fought Natasha so hard on Tony not needing to go to medical when they came back, even though he probably could use the check up. Yup. That was definitely the only reason he had insisted on bringing Tony back to the penthouse. No other reason at all. If you keep this up, you just might start believing it, he thought to himself ruefully. Tony wasn’t his. He had made it very clear that he didn’t need some alpha in his life to mess with everything he’d worked so hard to accomplish. Especially not Steve Rogers.

Found Love in a Hopeless Place by crispybacon

Summary: Steve really, really did not want to tag along with his brother to the bar, no matter how many times the jerk nagged him that he needed to get laid. Just because Bucky’s known his Omega since kindergarten, and the pair have loud obnoxious sex in their shared small two bedroom apartment, didn’t mean Steve needed to stick his knot in any Omega that looks his way.

That’s not the kind of Alpha Steve was.

Or, Steve goes to a bar and meets an Omega with a complicated past that changes his life forever.

This is Not a Drill by sabrecmc

Summary: “Can I—can I see him? I mean meet him. Uh…welcome him to the team?” Tony clarified, probably not very well, he knew.

“Well…there’s a bit of an issue with that,” Fury said, and Tony figured this was where Fury got to whatever it was that had really forced his hand and made him call Tony in, knowing how much the man detested having to do so. “You see, well. He was suspended in the ice for nearly seventy years,” Fury began. Tony nodded along, because he could do math.

“I’m sure he has a lot of adjusting to do—“ Tony started.

“Seventy years,” Fury repeated, cutting Tony off and leaning back in his chair and making it rock slightly. “Of no suppressants.”

“Oh,” Tony managed to choke out past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “Oh.”

Everybody's got a hungry heart. by Perlmutt for ShadowsintheClouds

Summary: Tony Stark has never experienced a true heat due to the suppressants he's taking on a daily basis. Society accepts him as a beta, together with his friends and teammates and the alpha he's secretly in love with. But some things are just too big to be kept hidden forever. An unfortunate turn of events forces Tony to reveal his biggest secret to the world...

Baby, Just Say Yes by betheflame for starksnack

Summary: In a world where Tony's life looks a lot like Taylor Swift's, Steve realizes there always more to omegas than meets the eye.

Apple Pie and Sunshine by betheflame, starksnack

Summary: Even though they've loved each other for years, Steve and Tony have each convinced themselves that their one-night-stand was a fluke. Thing is, it also resulted in Tony getting pregnant and as the birth approaches, perhaps it's time to use their words.

blue since the day we parted by funkyspacegirlfriend

Summary: When he's twenty, the man Tony thinks will be his alpha and mate walks away, leaving Tony with a gift he'll never regret.

The same alpha reappears fifteen years later in the form of SI's new military liaison.

In my Favorite Dreams (I feel your heat) by Corsets_and_Cardigans for wingheads

Summary: Steve is on his morning run in DC when a ghost from his past comes back into his life. And he's not alone. *** “Steve?” Sam’s voice cut through the veil of the past, the crushing weight of memory that stole his breath. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

His staring must have finally alerted another parent, a woman eyeing him warily while tugging on Tony’s sleeve until he turned around. His eyes were just as expressive and wide as they were ten years ago, piercing the cold morning air straight to Steve’s own.

“Tony.”

“Wait. Tony Tony? The Tony? The Tony that Bucky busts your chops over Tony?”

His voice cracked, wrent into pieces at seeing his omega who wasn’t his anymore, body flaring in pain. Years worth of aching denial like a hot fireplace poker to his soul. “Yeah.”

“Okay then, who’s the kid?”

The Couch by Perlmutt

Summary: Steve overstepped a mark, when he accidentally called Tony, his mate, tiny. Because his omega was very self-conscious when it came to his height. So he needed to show him that he thought Tony's perfect just the way he was, if he didn't want to sleep on the couch for the next week. Luckily Steve was the man with a plan...

be the summer in my heart by billyscissors

Summary: After Obadiah betrays the Southern Isles, he offers Omega Prince Anthony Stark as tribute to appease the Warlord of the North

[moonflowerlesbians]

Jamie is trying to ignore the new au pair. She doesn't need to fall for this beautiful and straight girl. But then Flora asks her to clean the pool after months without using it because "it's a perfectly hot and beautiful day and we need to have a pool party. And you're invited too".

Dani. The pool. Bikini. Jamie doesn't know how to react to this, so she decides to keep ignoring her. But she can bet Dani is looking at her... A bit too much.

took me a second but I offer you almost 3000 words as penance. also I sort of extended it because it's apparently impossible for me to write pure fluff.

AO3 link in reblog if that's your preference :)

~~~

“Ah, yeah, it’ll be perfectly splendid,” Jamie grumbles between pants, yanking the tie of the pool cover over one shoulder with a huff. “Sure, perfectly splendid to swim in. Have t’ get it clean first. Can’t just jump in.”

At half eight in the evening, she’d been trying to beat the bizarre heatwave that had befallen the English countryside, but she’s failing rather spectacularly if the moisture gathering at her hairline is any indication. She swipes an arm across her forehead and listens to the faint chatter from the open sitting-room window, where the other grown members of the household bask in the glorious company of electric fans. Meanwhile, Jamie swelters away the evening spraying down pool filters and vacuuming leaves from the tile floor because someone had the bright idea to remind an eight-year-old that she has access to a pool.

“Oh, please, Jamie, please!” Flora had pleaded, practically bouncing out of her seat at the dinner table and coming terrifyingly close to tipping several drinks onto Hannah’s pristine tablecloth. “It’s dreadfully hot and a beautiful day, and we simply must have a pool party.” She had gasped so abruptly that Dani nearly dropped her fork, Jamie noted with a subtle grin. “We’ll all have a pool party! And Owen can make sandwiches, and Mrs. Grose can bring picnic blankets, and you must come, too, Jamie, won’t you please?”

Then Jamie had made the poor decision to lock eyes with Dani from across the table. The desperation plainly written across her face had been enough to convince Jamie to concede with a faux exhale of annoyance.

Thus, the weary gaze of a haggard au pair run ragged by herding two children indoors is the reason Jamie finds herself skimming the pool’s surface for any leaves and algae that managed to weasel beneath the cover when she should be driving home.

“Sorry,” a voice comes from behind her, “I’m the one who planted the idea in her head.”

Jamie turns to find Dani, a glass in either hand, peering at her with the expression of a woman who is half-tempted to change places and take up the skimmer herself simply to have a moment to herself.

“S’alright, needed to be done anyway. Won’t be ready until at least tomorrow,” Jamie sighs, accepting the proffered glass with a grateful nod. “Kids tired of being cooped up?”

Dani puffs out a laugh that says, you don’t know the half of it. “You’d think they don’t have a house the size of my old school to explore.”

“Bet they haven’t even found half the secret passages,” remarks Jamie over the smooth rim of her glass. Dani sips from hers, and Jamie endeavors to ignore the bob of her throat as she swallows.

“The what?” The wrinkles that appear on Dani’s forehead are surprisingly charming. Too charming. Jamie shoos the thought away before it can land.

“C’mon, Poppins. House this size? This old? There at least have to be servants’ tunnels.”

“Have… have you found any?”

Jamie hums noncommittally, noting the way Dani shifts her weight on her heels as if she cannot bear the thought of standing still. “Did you come out here just for this?”

“Partly, yes, but,” she lowers her voice, “I really just needed to get away from the kids for a few minutes. Owen’s got them playing a board game, thank God, and after that, I can put them to bed. I adore them, but sometimes…” she shrugs.

“We all need space,” Jamie finishes, a bit more brusque than she intended, which she chalks up to the evening hour and the heat, and Dani takes a step back. Shit. “Meant to say,” Jamie salvages with a wince, “it’s nice to be alone sometimes.” She grimaces, doing her best to focus on the cool glass in her hand rather than the heat in her face and the flutter low in her belly.

“I know what you meant,” Dani says softly. Then, after a moment’s pause spent glancing from Jamie to the pool and back again, “You need any help out here?”

Jamie raises an eyebrow. “Lookin’ for excuses to avoid work, are we?”

“No, no, I, um… No?”

“Relax, Dani,” Jamie chuckles, setting her empty water cup down in the grass. Dani visibly settles. “If you’d like to drag the garden hose over, we’ll need to rinse the filters.”

“Got it,” Dani says seriously, and she practically marches to the nearest hose rack as Jamie watches with a quirk of the lips. The au pair completes tasks as if the world will fall apart if they remain incomplete a moment longer. It’s a quality Jamie admires in her, the passion and fervor with which she undertakes the seemingly mundane tasks in her life. Jamie also finds herself mildly amused by the way Dani stalks across the property like she might break into a run at any moment, always on high alert. Always tense.

Might be nice to see her take a full breath for the first time in her life.

Might be nice to see her at ease.

Might be nice to see her relax.

Very nice, indeed, it turns out.

Almost too nice, two days later, the way Dani lounges on a patio chair she’d dragged to the poolside, with a book in her hand and one leg propped on the seat.

Too nice, the way her hair looks beneath a sun hat, casting dappled shadows over the tip of a tongue poking out between pursed lips as she turns a page.

Too nice, the way she lowers her sunglasses over her nose to keep an eye on the children splashing and shrieking in the water.

Too nice, in fact, far too nice for Jamie, who tries and repeatedly fails to keep her gaze off pale, freckled skin and eyes as blue and clear as the water. She can’t sit still. Can’t seem to cease the bouncing of a leg or the rote twirling of hair between twitching fingers. Can’t seem to stop flitting from superfluous task to superfluous task long enough to catch her breath, stolen against her will each and every time she catches a flash of exposed skin dancing in the midday sun.

But the worst part, by far, is when she looks at Dani… Dani is looking back. Four times now, Jamie has cast a fleeting glance at the lazing au pair only to find her peering at Jamie with equal intensity.

Odd, Jamie thinks, fiddling with the stem of a bush a few meters away from the pool, to catch Dani staring so often. But coincidences have been stranger, she decides, chalking it up to amicable concern. She can’t allow herself to dwell on the occurrence. Too many possibilities that open doors to too much trouble. Far more trouble than Dani is worth.

But what if… a niggling voice at the back of her head chides.

No, Jamie reminds herself with a mental kick and an outward shake of her head. She had a fiancé.

Hannah sits with her trousers rolled to her knees, ever one for modesty, with her legs dangling in the shallow end of the pool, while Owen and the kids do everything short of pulling the poor housekeeper in the water to utterly drench her. Hannah, to her credit, is taking their antics in stride, no doubt due to the mustachioed mastermind currently huddled with two overeager children.

The promise to Flora had been a pool party, and, never one to give up on her goals once they were set in her mind, the girl had hounded the adults with unrelenting chipperness until, one by one, they had been worn down. Which is surely the only reason Jamie hovers at the edge of the pool deck in an oversized t-shirt tied at the waist and old running shorts--the only sort of swimsuit she could throw together on short notice.

“Thought I might get in. Care to join me?”

Slender legs enter Jamie’s field of vision, then Dani is only paces away, a hand resting on one hip. She’s removed her hat, left to save her empty seat, and her sunglasses rest atop her forehead, pushing her hair out of her face and onto her shoulders. Her cornflower-blue swimsuit hugs her figure, and Jamie forces her eyes up, her throat terribly dry. She swallows thickly.

“May as well.”

Dani leads the way to the water’s edge, dipping one painted toenail into the water and producing a satisfied noise. She turns to Jamie standing a few feet behind and sweeps the sunglasses from her head, shaking her hair out. “Hold these for me?”

Wordlessly, Jamie delicately grasps one temple of the white plastic frame as Dani steps forward, her arms over her head, hands meeting in a V-shape. The hidden muscles in her back ripple, and she executes an elegant plunge into the pool, emerging with a gasp and a whoop of elated laughter. A smattering of applause rises from the opposite end of the pool, the others having apparently stopped their scheming long enough to watch Dani’s flawless--at least in Jamie’s opinion--swan dive.

“Oh, Miss Clayton, that was splendid!” Flora’s shrill voice chirps.

Hannah remarks, clearly impressed, “I had no idea we had a professional in our midst."

“I’d hardly say professional,” Dani says with a modest roll of her eyes. The water swirls where she treads. She pushes water-darkened hair from her eyes. Then, to Jamie, she explains, “I was on the community pool swim and dive team for a few summers before I could get a job.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Jamie replies. She passes the sunglasses to Dani’s outstretched hand and takes a seat on the sun-warm grey concrete at the edge of the pool. Dani swims up and places crossed arms beside Jamie on the deck, resting her chin on the intersection and looking up at Jamie. Lean legs kick out behind her into crystalline depths, and golden sunlight refracts in the water, bathing beneath the surface in an ethereal glow.

“You’re not getting in?” Dani asks.

“Not the biggest fan of water, if I’m honest,” Jamie confesses nonchalantly, as if by some miracle this admission will end the conversation.

No, Dani’s desire to learn, to understand, is far too intense for that. It’s another quality of hers Jamie admires, even if it feels as though she’s laying herself bare by sharing the tiniest details under her scrutiny.

“I knew plenty of kids afraid of the water back in the day,” Dani says easily, tracing lines in the small puddle that has formed from the droplets on her skin, “it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“‘S not that. I just,” Jamie searches, somewhat defensively, struggling to convey the message without saying the words that reveal a weakness she is loath to expose. Her silence evidently speaks volumes.

“Jamie,” Dani says quietly, a furrow forming between her brows, “can you swim?”

Damn those observant eyes, that sharp mind.

Jamie looks away, shrinks just a little, scoffs with false bravado, “‘Course I can swim.” Then, “Can paddle… float….” Heat rises in her already flushed cheeks, and she picks at the skin surrounding the cuticle on her thumb.

“It’s… You know it’s okay if you can’t, right?” And Dani’s voice is soft, so soft, a murmur really, a whisper that makes Jamie’s heart ache. It keeps the sound from carrying across the pool as it does hold Jamie in her destitution.

She thinks back to a childhood of coal dust and dirty sofa beds and scavenging for food. Thinks of summers spent doing odd jobs to pay the rent, of sleeping on the porch because it was cooler out there than in the house. Thinks of covering herself with as much clothing as she could despite the rising temperatures to fend off roving eyes, to appear a larger threat than a scrawny eleven-year-old girl actually was. Thinks of boiling pots and scalding showers spent scrubbing her skin clean, as though maybe if she rubbed hard enough, the memories would wash away with the grime. Circle the drain once, twice, and disappear forever.

“Never really learned, I s’pose,” Jamie forces a weak laugh. “Didn’t have anyone really keen on teachin’ me.”

Dani is quiet for a moment. “I could.”

“Could what? Teach me? ‘S not your problem to worry about, Poppins.” The thought nearly sends her mind into overdrive. Nescience of an essential life skill is ignominious enough, but to have Dani bear witness to the reality is unthinkable.

“Well, sure it is,” Dani shakes her head, affronted at the mere notion. “What would we do if you fell in and drowned? Someone needs to keep Owen in line.”

Jamie notes the ‘we’ in her statement. We need you. Not I. Distinctly not I, Jamie repeats to herself. She fidgets with the knot in her t-shirt.

“Already told you I can paddle. I’d be fine.”

“Still.” Dani is staring up at her with a pointed look. She has the glint in her eye that Jamie recognizes from the instances Dani deems it necessary to hold her ground with Miles or persuade Flora to clean up her dolls at the end of a long day. She will not give in.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Jamie raises an eyebrow, approaching Dani’s determination as one might a chest of buried treasure, hesitant, disbelieving, a bit curious.

Dani shakes her head again, the ghost of a smirk upturning the corner of her lips.

A beat, during which Jamie’s thoughts wage war amongst themselves. One team screams at her to take the opportunity to spend time with the woman that another batch reminds her is not interested in the least. Another group acknowledges the practical benefits of developing a skill beyond aimless paddling, while another still acknowledges the persistent flutter in her stomach.

At last, “Reckon you’ll be putting that fancy teaching degree to use again,” Jamie acquiesces with a sigh. “Doubt this is what you signed up for, though.”

“I know exactly what I signed up for.” There’s a mischievous lilt to Dani’s words that sends a bolt of feverish perplexion through her. Dani pulls back from the side of the pool and holds out her hands. “We can get started right now.”

Jamie must look as if she’d rather snip off a finger with her garden shears than get in the water because Dani laughs.

“Or not,” she says with a sincere smile, and she ducks back under the water before popping up at Jamie’s feet, wiping the water from her eyes.

“I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of the kids,” Jamie says with a chuckle. “Lord knows I’ve never done that before, and I don’t intend on starting now.” It’s a half-truth. The real issue stems from the moderately disconcerting realization that breathing on land is hard enough with Dani so close, and Jamie really isn’t keen on finding out what will happen if she tries to slip underwater.

A brief flash of her sputtering to the surface, limbs flailing in all directions, crosses her mind, and she shakes it away.

A whooping from the opposite end of the pool catches her attention, and she looks up.

It seems whatever Owen and the children plotted had worked. Hannah is, much to her presumed consternation, sopping wet from head to toe, though she merely wrings out her blouse and kicks a lighthearted splash back at the children, who, having completed their mission, slink out of the pool and wrap themselves in paisley towels.

“Finished already?” Dani calls, and Flora nods from the deck, a yawn splitting her face despite the clock only reading three in the afternoon. “I’ll be right there!” She turns back to Jamie, says softly, “Another time?”

Jamie nods. “Another time.”

Then, Dani is off, gathering her things and herding the children back across the stretch of grass and into the house, leaving Jamie to watch in delirious bewilderment as her heart pounds far faster than it ought to, given the situation. And yet, Jamie cannot fault it, nor can she calm her racing pulse, though she tries.

Dani is the cause, she knows. Dani is always the cause, and no amount of fervent internal reminders seem to dull her effect. No incalculable quantity of mutterings about ex-fiancés will stop Jamie’s breath from catching when Dani settles down for dinner. No collection of whispered slim chanceswill convince a weak heart to cease its clamant pattering at the sight of a column of silky skin. No platitudes can dissuade Jamie’s longing soul from going against her better judgment, from going against her learned experiences that say this will only lead to heartbreak.

Love is sink or swim, she has learned, and Jamie has been treading water, head just barely above the surface, for far, far too long. Dani has offered to hold her hand, quite literally, to guide her through the risk, if only Jamie will make a move to reach out. Perhaps… Perhaps, Dani can guide her to shore to rest among sand beaches and good company. Perhaps, Dani will not let go along the way.

Another time, then.

Another time, yes. But soon. Soon, because Jamie is rapidly growing weary of condemning her wayward heart to fruitless excitement, of shutting a thing down before it can even begin, like cutting down a sapling before it emerges from a seed.

It’s sink or swim, and, at last, Jamie chooses to swim.