#so glad i waited until daytime to watch this

[talkfastcal]

ew the chills i have currently

[hotxcheeto]

OMG OMF REQUESTS R OPEN!! HI!! could u do a rachel X chloe X Fem!reader smut where both chloe & rachel want to dom the reader together? thank uuu

━ 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐍

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Chloe Price x Fem!Reader x Rachel Amber ( poly )

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, porn with no plot, smut, threesome, oral ( r! receiving ), vaginal fingering ( r! receiving ), lots of pet names, praise kink, kissing, hickies, mention of alcohol and cigarettes ( not in story ), dom!chloe, dom!rachel, sub!reader

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - so sorry this took me months!!! so glad you requested ily so you much!!!

The evening was calm besides the light pitter patter of rain on Chloe's bedroom window. The house was quiet, no one else home besides the people in the room, David and Joyce having left for the week.

The sun was setting below the houses, peaking through the torn American flag and dancing along the closet that you were turned away from. The window above the desk being the only thing confirming to you that it was still daytime as you laid sideways on the mattress.

You were snug under your blankets, staring at the laptop in front of you that replayed the same movie that you'd watched earlier. Rachel laying right behind you with a hand on your bare waist.

She took full advantage of the fact that your shirt had ridden up on your hips, her touch slowly luring you to sleep.

Her painted nails trailed up and down your lower belly, face in the crook of your neck as her stare stayed focused on the screen.

Chloe sat not far on the bed, eyes closed but her body sitting up and a headphone in one ear and the other dangling allowing you to hear the muffled song she was listening to.

Rachel didn't seem to care though, just as you didn't. Instead she had different things in mind and it sure wasn't the movie.

She sat up slightly, taking her head away from your neck and peering down at your half lidded eyes. Reflecting the characters in your irises and lazily blinking every few seconds while your breathing stayed slow and steady.

Quietly, she laid her head back down, fingers slowly slipping down to your waistband. Beginning to mess with the strings of your shorts, she snuggled back into your warmth but never stopped.

After a moment of stillness from Rachel again you felt her hand slip underneath the fabric and right onto the hem of your underwear. Quitting her movements and waiting for your reaction which was only a slight twitch at first.

Just her hand resting there provoked you though, the image of her going further slipping into your mind like a bad thought. You bit the inside of your lip at the fantasy.

Moving your legs, you spread them apart just slightly making her smile against your skin. But it didn't stay long and Rachel let the grin slip away, sitting up again to watch your face while moving her fingers underneath your panties, but again she stopped.

Hovering.

Rachel looked over her shoulder at Chloe, quietly giggling to herself, a smirk appearing on her lips before she turned back to you.

"How long until she notices?" Rachel whispered right beside your ear as her finger ran along your wet slit, a tiny gasp heard between the talking of the characters on screen.

"I-" You shut your mouth when that same finger brushed over your clit causing you to spread your legs farther apart. Hoping silently for more. "I dunno- shouldn't we- oh-"

This made your girlfriend laugh, looking back at the other again.

"Guess we'll find out, huh?" You nodded, your eyes now on her instead of the laptop, noticing a familiar, blown out, hungry look in her eyes.

"She's a bit on the oblivious side, though." Rachel moved to kiss you, tasting her cherry Chapstick almost immediatley. Her one finger gathering your wetness while circling your bundle of nerves, the rest of her pulling away from your mouth only to return in less than a second.

"Rach.." "Shhh, I wanna see if she notices. Y'know how she gets.." You did in fact know, you knew all too well. Chloe's possessive want to make you feel good was a blessing and a curse, wanting so bad to be her best for you.

"I–" "Quiet babe.." Rachel lightly kissed your cheek, moving her finger down to your hole light circling it while watching your silent reactions. Choking back your noises to please her.

"Want it?" You expressly nodded, bring your hand up to hold onto her arm. "Mhm." "Good girl.." She teased, giving you a teasing smile while slipping two of her digits deep inside your warm cunt. Feeling your walls envelop her like your entire body needed her fingers.

You whimpered, hiding your face in the mattress as she began moving in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. Rachel's mouth against the flesh of your jaw, sucking and leaving marks up and down your skin for you to have to cover if you wanted to be seen in public.

"Another." A broken whisper left your lips only for her to hear, your girlfriend silently complying and entering another finger into your cunt.

At this your mouth dropped wide, shaky breaths being the only give away of what was happening just inches away from the other now fully awake girl in the room.

Her music was paused but neither you or Rachel noticed that she was listening to your little cries instead.

Chloe watched the blanket move, arm thrown over your waist and in-between your thighs the Chloe could just barely make out the shape of under the fabric.

"Rach..." She heard you whisper, just barely audible and almost unheard by her. "There you go pretty baby, that feel good?" Rachel moved faster, biting the sweet spot on your neck.

Chloe could tell just by how you shifted your body and stretched your other hand up to grab the sheets that Rachel had done something to add to it.

But your mind was so clouded you didn't realize the blue haired girl was watching, three fingers fucking into your warm hole again and again and it began to create a muffled, obnoxious wet sound that made you feel warm in the face.

The build up inside was going to break you though, unaware how much longer you could be quiet for her. Fingertips rubbing along your favorite spots that drove you crazy, again and again.

"You gonna make her come already Rach? Or..."

"Fuck off Chloe." Rachel looked back at her without missing a beat.

"If you wanted to join, could've just asked." She added, smirking at Chloe who sarcastically laughed, crawling towards you while setting her on the blanket, slowly pulling it away from your body.

"I-" Throughout the interaction though, her hand had only sped up with her lips meeting yours again.

In the haze of sitting right on the edge of pleasure you could feel Chloe taking away your pants and underwear letting your legs fall open farther finally tipping you over the edge.

Rachel reached impossible deep inside you as you came, groans and girly whines ripping out of your throat. Legs shaking as you clenched around her fingers, her other hand drawing circles on your clit.

"Good girl, look at her Chlo, isn't she adorable?" Chloe was sat in-between your thighs, holding your calves while watching your pouty eyes turn to look at her.

"When's she not?" Chloe knelt over your body, arm beside your head while she kissed you, her taste a lot different then Rachels. Cigarettes on her tongue and the faint taste of crappy beer lingering.

"Fuck, you havin' fun hot stuff?"

"Mhm.. please more.." Chloe kissed down the part of your neck Rachel didn't, sitting up again to position herself between your legs.

"Rach."

"I got her, come here pretty baby."

Rachel sat behind you, gathering you up into her arms and letting your entire body lay against hers. Your eyes watching her hands flip up your shirt while Chloe watched with a clenched jaw at the sight of your tits.

"Look how pretty you are." She muttered against your ear, lips brushing your skin. "Isn't she pretty, Chlo?" "Fuck yeah."

Her painted finger tips ran over your nipples, a small gasp heard in the room as she did so.

But immediatley it turned into more as you felt Chloe's lips wrap around your lip, warm tongue beginning it's assault on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Oh! Oh - oh fuck Chloe!" You tried moving your hands to her hair only for Rachel to grab them holding her own over them before beginning to play with your boobs once more.

"Let her focus babe.." "But-" "No.. you wanna feel good?"

Slowly, she watched you nod your head.

"Look at her baby.. look at Chloe eating your pretty pussy."

You hesitated bashfully, finding Chloe's lustful gaze as she sucked hard on your clit, fingers creeping up to your aching hole.

"Isn't she doing a good job? Making you feel good?"

Chloe fed into Rachel's praise like it was the last thing she'd hear, beginning to fuck you with her two fingers before you got a chance to respond with any sort of coherent words.

You gripped at anything that you could reach, bucking your hips up into Chloe's face again and again in order to grind yourself against her tongue.

"Pl-plea-" Rachel just stared at you, love swirling around in her pupils while you tried your best to come on Chloe's tongue and fingers and almost screaming when a third was pushed in deep.

Her hand moved quickly but her tongue was slow and sensual, teasing you but bringing you oh so close to your release.

"I- can I? Please, please, please, please-"

"You heard her, Chloe."

Playfully glaring at her girlfriend, Chloe seemed to be motivated by this, free hand roughly grabbing the fat of your thigh as she fucked into you at an ungodly pace making a loud, wet squelching sound reach your ears.

You were embarrassed by your own noises but could nothing but let yourself be fingered by her. Hand knuckle deep and running along every spot that made your legs shake and push towards her.

"Come baby, come on Chloe's face."

And you did, feeling throughout every inch of while you trembled in Rachel's arms, grabbing the fabric of her shirt as your jaw went slack and your noises seemed to be the only thing that you could hear in the house.

Chloe's fingers beginning to slow while her mouth soon left your cunt, glistening with your own wetness when she did.

"You did so good baby." Rachel cooed, hand running along your forehead and over your hair, the girl giving you a comforting kiss right above your eyebrow.

"Didn't she Chlo?" "Always, right pretty baby?"

Chloe kissed you much softer this time and no longer did the alcohol or cigarettes linger, instead was the taste of yourself.

"Tha-thank you-" You spoke more to the both then to just one of them, both of them smiling warmly at your fucked out form.

"Don't worry, we're not done yet."

"Two for two?"

"I dunno Chlo, she's been listening so well, maybe a little more."

You looked between them both with nervous excitement, noticing their silent glance at one another before looking back at you.

"Sounds good to me."

[i-never-forgot]

Thinking about Eliana getting a case of the zoomies quite some time after the events of TPR after they settled. (Possible minor spoilers ahead, proceed with caution. I am actively trying to avoid giving anything too obvious away tho.)

Thinking about how she’s diurnal double-time since she’s a daytime mammal but also part plant to a degree, so she gets confused as to why she keeps waking up in the middle of the night (not from nightmares as frequently, much to her and the others’ immense relief). She’s sleeping well for the first time in years, she wakes up in the morning feeling fully rested, and she’s no longer fatigued. So why does she rouse when the moon’s at its peak, wide awake, thrumming with energy she just CANT seem to suppress?

She ignores it at first. She tosses and turns and huffs under her breath as she tries her hardest to wrestle herself back to sleep. A lot of times she ends up completely unmaking her bed because of this. The others are puzzled as to why she seems to crabby and how it even happened.

Eventually she gives up. To avoid disturbing the others, she patters up the stairs to walk around the top of the bluff in an effort to tire herself back out. It helps, but it's not enough. One night she caves and just breaks out into a full sprint through the forest on top of the steppe. It works.

She gets into an almost nightly habit of doing this to banish the excess energy. She figures out a trail through the wounds around treasure town and back. She even goes through town once or twice when she’s sure all the shop keepers are asleep. It improves her sleep and mood immensely and the others relax a bit.

Dusknoir gets curious, of course.

So he waits up until she leaves, and he follows. He has to follow the noises into the woods until he’s able to observe her darting through the underbrush to her heart’s content, gleefully yipping as she darts to and fro (entirely subconsciously, he is certain, as she’s so particular about her dignity and pride around others). The dapples of moonlight peeking through the leafy boughs above their heads illuminate her pale fur, helping him keep track of her whereabouts as he keeps a watchful eye, just in case. He understands, now, what she had needed—and he’s exceedingly glad that she found an outlet.

He continues this for a while, and she doesn’t even realize it at first. He spent years perfecting his stealth, after all, and he’s glad to use it for something good for once (bc one never knows when Eliana Kouros might fall into trouble’s way, after all). He almost…enjoys it. Like it’s a game of its own, to keep to the shadows and stay hidden and out of sight. He gets an odd surge of excitement when she darts right past him without her even glancing his way.

It doesn’t last forever, though. On a full moon night he accidental drifts into moonbeams and his rings start to glow involuntarily—it’s been a while since he last moon-bathed, after all, and he should have anticipated that. Elaina’s startled, of course, lets out a sharp sound of shock bc she was near him and felt foolish for being so oblivious, as well as mortified that he’d caught her doing such a “silly” thing (as well as the fact that even though they’ve both healed, bad memories still have a mighty grip on one’s subconscious and instincts). She gets prickly and a little huffy, at first—tries to brush it off and act a bit haughty to deflect his evident amusement—but he doesn’t tease her about it.

He tentatively asks her if she’d like for him to join her.

She blinks and stares at him for a long time in perfect silence. A part of her resists the idea—old wounds still lingered, after all, and why would she ever volunteer to have Dusknoir of all Pokemon chase her? Hasn’t she had enough of that for one lifetime?

He starts to retract his offer, bashful and ashamed himself by prodding that old scar in a way he hadn’t even considered before speaking, but she interrupts him. “I haven’t played tag in a long time,” she murmurs wistfully.

So they learn to play cat and mouse. And they love it.

Eliana is startlingly quick on her feet now that she’s adapted to her body. She has the advantage of ducking under low bushes and hiding in narrow places like under logs or in tree hollows. But her giggles give her away—unmitigated delight and anticipation overpowers her will, and it alerts him to her general direction any time he gets close.

Dusknoir has the advantage of greater reach—and, to a certain extent, speed, because this ghost will absolutely use Shadow Sneak to cheat if he’s losing—simply because it infuriates Eliana and he finds no small amount of amusement in riling her up. Having her rant at him also helps him avoid her longer.

Their raucous, elated laughter wakes Grovyle and Celebi one night. They’re bemused and a touch perplexed by the whole affair, but they decide not to speak on it to preserve their austere companions’ egos.

(I imagine, if they ever brought it up, though, Grovyle and Celebi would love to join in. Pray help them if they decide to do it on a sunny day, because Eliana’s ability almost helps her outpace the old ghost. It’s the only time the others ever get truly worn out.)

[quaranmine]

The Incandescence of a Dying Light (Chapter Six)

Someone’s worried about Grian, and the Forest Service comes to collect Mumbo’s bike.

Chapter Six: 8,724

<< Chapter Five | Masterpost | Chapter Seven >>

The other half of the fifth chapter! I hope you enjoy this 1988 sequence especially, I was looking forward to it a lot (and it single handedly made the chapter so long it had to be split in two!)

No real CWs this time. I personally think that if you have made it this far then I don’t really have to warn you about the themes of loss and grief anymore, but just in case: yep, still very present.

November 20, 1988

It’s about noon on a Sunday, and Grian is…not doing much, actually. He has a thousand things he needs to do, ranging from cleaning out the refrigerator to trying to change his car’s oil to looking into a part-time second job, but instead he’s lying on the couch trying to watch TV.  Somewhere along the way he tuned out of the program and started staring at the ceiling instead, mentally tracing out the patterns in the spackle. 

The man on the drones on and on in the background, until he’s just part of it. Grian can feel himself starting to drift to sleep. 

Then the phone rings. 

Grian startles awake and sits up, scowling at it in the kitchen. He hasn’t the faintest idea who is calling him, other than maybe a telemarketer, but do those people work on Sunday? Well, perhaps they do. Everyone is home then, afterall. 

It rings twice more, so he gets up and answers the phone. “Hello?” he says. 

“Griba!” shouts a voice on the other end of the line. 

And–it’s a very familiar voice. 

“Pearl?” Grian says, just the slightest bit baffled. “Is that you?”

“Hi!” she says. “How are you doing? Are you busy?”

“I’m fine,” he says. “How are you? What do you need?”

“Can’t I just call to say hi?” Pearl asks. 

“Of course, but–”

“But the international rates?” Pearl says. Then she laughs. “Oh, shush, I know you were thinking about it.”

“Oh noooo,” Grian says. “I don’t care about that at all, we can talk as long as you like.”

 It’s a lie. He was definitely thinking about the international rates, and then immediately feeling bad about it because Pearl is a friend. He puts friends before money, of course, it’s just…well, it was expensive. But worth it! Pearl is Pearl. But every minute on the phone eats into his checkbook, and it’s hard not to think about. 

Pearl laughs again. “Well, I’m glad you don’t worry about that. Not that it matters anyway; this call is local.”

Local. Local?

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you were right Griba, I did need something when I called,” Pearl says. “Can you pick me up from the airport?”

Grian’s head is spinning. “You’re at the airport?” he says incredulously. “Like, in Colorado? In Denver? Right now?”

“Yep,” Pearl says. “And I need a ride. Well, I could go get a taxi somewhere. But I figured I’d ask my friend first. Are you busy?”

Yeah, busy falling asleep to daytime TV on the couch. “Um, no,” he says. 

“Great! I’ll see you there!” Pearl says. “Wait, how long will it take? I don’t know where you live, actually. Ooh, this is exciting! I’ll finally get to see your place.”

“Um, give me like half an hour and I’ll be there,” Grian says slowly. 

He and Pearl say their goodbyes for now, and after she hangs up he finds himself staring at the phone for several moments. What just happened? First of all, Pearl’s in Denver, apparently. Second of all, he did not know this was happening. Thirdly, his afternoon just got way more interesting.

He grabs his keys off the counter and makes his way downstairs. 

»»———-　　———-««

When he arrives at the airport, in the long line of cars waiting to pick people up and drop them off at the terminal, he does not expect to see Pearl waiting outside for him. Yet he picks her out instantly, a familiar face in a crowd of strangers. 

She’s bundled up in a black hoodie. The hood is up over her head, but he can see the long wavy tendrils of brown hair peeking out from behind it. Her hands are shoved in the hoodie’s pocket, and her nose is pink from the cold. When she exhales, he can see the faintest cloud of her breath. 

He can hardly remember being so happy to see someone before. The second he sees her face, any doubt or mild annoyance at her unexpected stay just melts away. 

He pulls his car up as close as he can to her, and throws it in park. She doesn’t know what car he’s driving, of course–she’s never visited him here. He leaps out and calls her name. 

“Pearl!” he shouts. 

She spins around and a grin breaks out on her face the moment she spots him. He races up to her on the curb and she throws her arms around him in a hug immediately. They cling to each other for a moment, before letting go. 

“Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” Pearl says.

“Oh, yeah,” Grian says. “A few years, right? Not since I’ve been here.”

“Ah!” Pearl squeaks. “I can’t wait to see it. I should’ve come for a visit so much sooner.”

Grian breathes a sigh, not of any annoyance or tiredness, but perhaps–of relief? Relief from what, he doesn’t quite know, but he’s so happy to see Pearl it’s like he can hardly speak. His breath clouds in front of him. 

“Let’s get you in the car,” he says. “It’s so cold out here, why weren’t you waiting inside?”

“Well, it might be cold out here,” Pearl says, attempting to pick up her bag. Grian steals it out from under her grasp before she can, though, so she just trails after him to the car. “But it certainly isn’t cold at home. It’s kind of nice, actually. Anyway, I wasn’t out here waiting the entire time, I just walked out a few minutes before you came.”

“Well, don’t freeze on me before you even get here,” Grian says. He loads her things in the car, and they hop in. He starts to navigate out of the airport traffic. “How long was that flight?” he asks. “I mean, I assume you flew in from Sydney.”

“Ugh, it was never ending!” Pearl says. “It was like 12 or 13 hours, and that only got me to Los Angeles. Then I had a connection here.” She glances at the clock on his dashboard. “Did you know it’s almost the same time I left?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. I left around noon on the 20th. Then I landed and now it’s around noon on the 20th again.”

“Wow.”

“It feels like I got put in a time vortex or something and they zapped a whole day from me. And then I woke up and I’m repeating the day again.”

Grian side eyes her in the passenger seat. “Are you, perhaps, a little tired?”

“Exhausted.”

He smiles just a little. “I bet you’re hungry too,” he says. “Let’s get lunch on our way back to my apartment.”

»»———-　　———-««

They get lunch, and it’s great. They talk about various, mostly mundane things about their lives over the past few years. They’ve kept in touch ever since graduating university together, even as their lives diverged on totally different paths on totally different continents. But that was mostly just letters and phone calls. It’s entirely different to be face to face again. It’s so much better to be face to face again.

Grian asks about her career in Australia. “So, have you designed the next Sydney Opera House yet?” he teases. 

Pearl gasps in fake horror. “Of course not! There can’t be a ‘next’ Opera House, it’s iconic!”

“Eh,” Grian says. “I think you could come up with a cooler one.”

She rolls her eyes affectionately. “Alright, stop it.”

“I’m dead serious. I think you could make a better one.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Seriously though, I mostly just do office buildings.”

“Hm, well that’s boring,” Grian says and takes a sip of his water. “We for sure don’t need any more of those.”

“That’s what most of the work is,” she says. “Lots of new development to work on! So what have you been up to? Any interesting projects lately?”

Grian hesitates a bit in replying. The answer is no, of course. Pearl’s aware of his job from some of their previous communication in the past three years, but now that they’re sitting here face to face she clearly wants to hear all about it without the constraints of a phone call or letter. 

He just, well, has nothing to say. He hasn't even really received projects lately. 

He and Mumbo came to Colorado a little over two years ago after Mumbo was offered an engineering job in Denver. Grian had figured he might as well dust off his completely unused dual citizenship and follow him here–it’s not like it was even a difficult process for him. It was the perfect sort of adventure to follow up five years of intense schooling, and an interesting place to put his new skills to test. 

It had been that which enticed him to go with Mumbo. That, and the way his stomach had twisted when he thought about saying goodbye. They’d been inseparable for over a decade and Grian refused to accept a reality where his best friend lived so far away. Truthfully, Mumbo was a little apprehensive about moving to an entirely new country alone, so this had worked out perfectly. 

Grian would go with him. They’d split an apartment and get settled in for a while and experience life in a new country. Grian would finish the rest of his architecture field training in Colorado and finally get his license. Mumbo would work on creating machines and learn about computers. 

It was fine. It was fun. They had a good time–there were endless things to do, from skiing to hiking to rafting to biking. 

Then Mumbo went missing, and Grian was just…still here, but missing everything that was worthwhile. He was struggling. Not showing up to work. Getting demoted.

“I haven’t really had anything interesting to work on,” he says finally. “There was this one house–way too massive, really, and the owner could never really decide what he wanted but he wasn’t so bad. But then I had to leave to…” 

He trails off. Pearl glances at him and opens her mouth, but she rethinks it after a moment and shuts it again. She’s smart, and part of that intelligence is knowing when to not poke around. 

“Mostly they just have me working on codes and compliance right now,” he finishes quietly. 

It’s still an important part of the process, making sure that all of the projects are in alignment with local building codes. Sometimes it’s even frustrating, when he has to figure out things like getting a water line from whichever locality is closest for someone’s house perched high on a mountainside. 

But he doesn’t have any of his own clients anymore. He does work for his coworker’s projects. He doesn’t do any drafting. He doesn’t touch any blueprints. He doesn’t design anything. 

It’s not really the update that he wants to give Pearl. They met each other in university because they studied in the same architecture program. They spent long nights in the library together. He’s seen her rip up her papers in frustration when things weren’t working quite right, and she’s seen him start crying on the floor of her dorm room the night before a particularly major test. They graduated together. 

It just doesn’t look good. Of course, he knows Pearl very well. She isn’t going to think anything less of him. It’s more, well, himself that he has to worry about. 

Pearl purses her lips, and moves on. “Well,” she says, “that’s all very important. God knows we studied it enough. Don’t worry about projects, you’ll find some cool work soon.”

“As cool as office buildings?”

“With any luck, even better,” she says. 

“How long are you staying?” he asks, realizing he still doesn’t know. 

“Little over a week,” she responds. “I’m leaving next Monday.”

He frowns. “I probably have work, but maybe I can take off a morning to take you back to the airport–”

“I can survive in a taxi,” Pearl says. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, you asked me to pick you up this time.”

“Mm, well, I wanted to see you,” she says, “and I had a feeling you weren’t going to be busy.”

He hates that she’s right, but only just a little. He’s sort of glad he wasn’t busy so that he could see her, since she’s apparently decided to drop this entire trip on him with no notice whatsoever. It does not miss him that she could have done this basically any weekend in the last several months and landed on a day where he wasn’t busy. 

“What are your plans for this week?” he asks.

“I want to see everything!” Pearl says, and stretches her arms wide to accommodate the words. She has to pull her arm back in quick, since she nearly smacks a waitress walking by. They both descend into laughter. 

“Pearl,” Grian hisses, “we’re in public!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she whispers. “I’m just so excited! I want to sightsee!”

Grian leans back in his chair and regards her with a critical eye. He’s smiling. “I don’t know if a week is enough to see everything,” he says. 

“I am going to do my best,” she says, mock-serious. 

It suddenly hits Grian. “Wait,” he groans. “I seriously have to work tomorrow. And Tuesday. I could ask off, but…” He winces as he trails off. “I kind of have a track record with my boss and I don’t think he really appreciates me calling out last minute.”

“That’s fine,” Pearl says. “What? I know I came here without telling you but it’s not like I wasn’t prepared to take care of myself. I’ll just see some things on my own.”

Grian nods. “I have a half-day on Wednesday,” he says, “but I think he’d be more amenable to letting me have that as a full day. Then Thursday’s off for Thanksgiving, and Friday too. Then of course the weekend.”

Pearl looks self-satisfied. “Good. I meant to plan it that way so you’d have a little time off.”

“So what do you want to do?” he asks. “One of them, I guess, since everything’s on the table.”

Pearl leans closer to him across the table. “Please,” she says. “I want to go skiing. I’ve never been skiing. Can we please go skiing? Please?”

Grian laughs again at the face she’s making. She’s so dead serious in her begging. “I’ll call around and see if any places are open. As you can see, we don’t have any snow around here right now. But further up into the actual mountains probably does.”

“Eee!” Pearl squeaks in excitement. “I’m so ready.”

“Oh?” Grian says. “I will literally bet you on how many times you fall.”

“I’ll take your money,” she says. “I’ll be the greatest first-time skier there ever was.”

“You will fall on your butt no less than a dozen times,” he shoots back. 

They continue talking for a while, back and forth. Pearl tells him about various stories and adventures from Australia. She begs him to come visit–she came here, so now it’s his turn to come to her. Maybe next summer, when it’ll be cooler in Australia and hotter down here. 

She’s obviously prepared for their trip and seeing him again, because she’s also brought photos to share with him. He looks through a few photos of what her house looks like, what a few buildings she’s worked on looks like, a picture of her by the ocean (she says he can keep that one, as long as she gets to go home with a photo of him), and even the two cats she has adopted. 

They get the check–Grian pays for the whole thing without blinking–and head back to his apartment.

They’re discussing sleeping arrangements as they walk up Grian’s stairwell. He has his keys out already, and they clang a little step-by-step. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he declares. “End of story.”

“But,” she says, “I’ll feel so bad taking your bed from you.”

“You’re a guest!” he says. “I’m not letting you sleep for a week on the couch! You can take my bed.”

Neither of them mention that there’s a third option. Or really a fourth, because Pearl could always get a hotel room if it didn't work out, but she had asked to stay with him. She must have spent so much on flights already, it was the least he could do. 

So there’s really only three options, and only two are being discussed. The apartment is a two bedroom. Mumbo’s room has sat empty for five months now, completely untouched. But that room isn’t up for grabs–it’s a time capsule, frozen from the moment he left it. Grian doesn’t mention it. Pearl is smart enough to not ask about it. 

“Ugh, fine,” Pearl says, rolling her eyes. “I guess I’ll take your room. If you make me. I still feel like it’s weird though.”

Grian freezes on the top step, and Pearl nearly bumps into him. “Oh no,” he mumbles. “My apartment is–Pearl, listen, I didn’t know you were coming, so I didn’t really take a chance to clean up anything, so it’s definitely a little messy in here, and–”

She cuts him off, voice bright. “So what I’m hearing is the couch might be better than your room?”

“No, ugh, I’m just saying I’m sorry that this place looks so bad.” He sighs. 

“I get it,” she says. “Don’t worry.”

“It’s not how I wanted it to be,” he says softly, and slots the key into the handle. “Just let me work on it, I’ll get it fixed up.”

They go into the apartment. Really, it isn’t that bad, but he’s embarrassed about it nonetheless. It isn’t filthy or grimy, it’s just cluttered. He’s always been a cluttered person. There’s stuff lying randomly about, like the somewhat muddy shoes by the door, the jackets shed across chairs, or the laundry basket of unfolded clothes sitting on a dining room chair. At least three random empty drinking glasses are sitting on the coffee table in the living room. And, well, he could have probably bothered to do the dishes from the last three days, but there’s only one of him and he doesn’t cook much, so really it isn’t very much even if it looks bad.

Everything in here would be so fast to clean up, but whenever he tries it feels like an insurmountable barrier. He does things a little at a time, so that it never gets too out of hand, but he can’t remember the last time it looked good. It’s just something that’s continually slipping further and further away. It feels like one day he’ll wake up and it will finally be completely out of control. 

Pearl doesn’t say anything. She just walks in and drops her bags–which she had insisted on carrying since he insisted on paying for lunch–on the floor and puts her hands on her hips. “This is a cute place,” she says. “I like the lighting from the windows. And you’ve got a view of the mountains!”

“It’s cute when it’s clean,” he mutters. It’s like he knows how to be ashamed of how the place looks, but not how to do anything about it. He’s got the external motivation of another human being seeing it now though, and he’s itching to work and hide everything here.

Maybe it���s concerning that his main motivation after months on end is just so that he can hide. This thought does not cross his mind, because the sort of people who hide things from others are fantastic at hiding things from themselves, too. 

“I saw your dorm room in university,” she reminds him. “You can’t seriously think I wasn’t prepared for your clutter.”

“This is worse,” Grian groans. 

“Eh, not really,” Pearl says. “I think you’re doing well, all things considered.”

All things considered. Grian bites his lip. It’s nice that she thinks so. He isn’t sure where she got that impression, but if he can spend the rest of the week cultivating it then maybe she’ll stop worrying. 

She walks over to the laundry basket on the chair. “Is this clean?” she asks. 

“Yes, of course,” he responds, and he wants to add “I’m not that bad" to the end of the statement until he remembers the floor of his bedroom, which is exactly “that bad.” 

“Great!” she says. And then she sits down. And starts folding it.

“What are you doing?” he asks, and snatches the basket away from her. “You’re a guest! You’re on vacation! Don’t be doing that?”

Pearl frowns. “Um,” she says. “Just helping?”

“I don’t need you to help,” he says, and it comes out a bit harsher than intended. “Just, like, go relax or something. Take a nap. I know you’re exhausted.”

A brief look of hurt flashes over her face, and vanishes almost as quickly as it arrives. “Grian?” she asks. “What do you think I’m here for?”

“To see me?” he says, confused. 

“Yeah,” she says. “Of course it’s to see you, I missed you. But also to help.”

“I missed you too,” he says automatically, but when the rest of the sentence catches up to him he shakes his head. “I don’t need help.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You don’t? Then why can nobody get a hold of you, Grian? Why does your apartment look like this? Why do you deflect phone calls and make excuses? We’re all worried about you, you know. We don’t know what’s going on.”

“We?” Grian says. “You’re talking about me behind my back? Who’s we?”

“Well, we wouldn’t be talking behind your back if you talked to us,” Pearl replies, matter-of-fact. “And the ‘we’ is your friends. Your family, Grian.”

“I’m fine,” he snaps. “I’m sorry to have you worried but you don’t need to be.”

“You don’t get to try that on me,” Pearl says firmly. “I know you too well.”

“Maybe that’s why I don’t talk to you,” he says. 

Pearl looks back at him, for a long time. He doesn’t return her eye contact, and instead begins to pick up the glasses from the coffee to take them into the kitchen. He knows looking at her will just make him sad. He also knows that he really, really wants to look back at her. 

He misses her so hard it hurts. Mumbo hasn’t come back, but she did. She was never really missing, though–just separated far, far, away by circumstance. 

She takes a deep breath. “Well. Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell you I was coming.”

He says nothing, and turns on the tap. It’ll take a moment for the water to heat up. 

“You always try to hide,” she says. She picks up another item out of the basket and begins to fold it. “But you can’t hide if you didn’t expect me to come.”

She reads him like a book every time. It was a definite contributing factor to their friendship–they’d clicked fast and gotten very close in university. They understood each other well, and shared not only the same area of study but also the same ideas about pulling mischief on campus. There used to be a point in time where her reading him like a book served both of them well, but not today. 

“I told you to stop folding that,” Grian says.

Pearl drops it with a huff. “No,” she says. “I’m not going to stop. You said I was the guest, right? Guests get to do what they want. And maybe I want to help you clean up.”

He finally turns to look at her. Her blue eyes are wide and just the slightest bit watery. He’s done that–he’s been the one to make her that worried. He turns back to the sink. 

“Okay,” he says quietly, words almost lost in the water running into the sink. He says okay because he can’t imagine even trying to fight her on this. “We can work on it together.”

»»———-　　———-««

The cleaning goes well, up until it doesn’t.

“Grian, what is this?” Pearl says from the other room, loudly. She’s finished folding his things and has fortunately just left them all in the basket for him to put up himself, declining to go rifling through his dresser and closet. The next task she has taken upon herself has apparently been working through the clutter in the living room area, which is always a dangerous place.

Grian sticks his head around the corner from the kitchen. He’s finished doing the dishes, and is just drying them off now to put in the cabinet. “Let me see,” he says. 

She turns around and Grian’s heart sinks immediately. She’s standing by his desk, the nice one by the window that he always liked to sit and draft at. She’s holding a few pieces of paper that Grian really didn’t mean to leave out. Because he definitely did leave them out–Pearl is nosy, and she’ll fly all the way across the world to drop in uninvited, but she isn’t the kind of person who goes through drawers. 

But he did just say she was nosy. Nosy enough to read something he left out. 

He drops the dish towel. “Give me those,” he says, and crosses the living room to the corner she’s in. He tries to snatch it out of her hand.

“Nope, not so fast,” she says, and holds them higher, squinting at them so she can read. Grian is, at this moment, extremely annoyed that she is so much taller than he is. He can’t quite grab them out of her hand. 

“Pearl,” he whines. 

“Shh, I’m reading.” Her eyes widen, and she looks back at Grian. He feels the slightest bit locked in her gaze’s intensity. It’s equal parts scrutinizing and empathetic. Like she feels bad for him, but is also a little disappointed. “Are these late notices?”

She files through them one by one. Grian cringes. He’d rather melt into the floor than be here. “Most of them are already paid,” he says feebly. 

“Most of them?” she looks back at him. Her brows are knit up, and it creases her forehead.

“I, uh, get paid this week,” he says. This is another lie. He gets paid at the end of the month, but she doesn’t need to know that.

She doesn’t seem fully convinced, but she hands them back to him and he takes them from her so sharply he almost tears the paper. He puts them in the drawer and slams it shut. It rattles the whole desk.

“The top one was about your credit card payment,” she says slowly, as if she’s halfway between deciding whether to say something and not, but was already saying it before she could finish the debate. 

Grian fixes her with a glare and she wilts under it, immediately looking away. He shoves his hands behind his back, because suddenly they seem shaky. His chest is tight, and his jaw is set, and–he’s angry. He’s so, so angry, and it feels like it’s burning him up, white-hot. 

“Why did you read those?” he demands. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to find it, it was just laying on the desk–”

“You could have ignored it.” 

Pearl crosses her arms. He’s activated her fight mode, and he rarely does well against her when she tries to be stubborn. 

“I’m just worried about you,” she says. 

Grian shakes his head. “I can’t with you right now,” he says. His tone is icy even while his whole body feels hot. “They were laying on the desk because I didn’t expect to have any guests.” 

He turns away from her and walks partway across the living room floor toward the kitchen, and then whirls around again. “You’re just..showing up uninvited, messing with my stuff, reading my mail? Is that where we are now?” his voice cracks a little on the last time. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you in three years and this is where we’re at now?”

Pearl takes a breath. “I just wanted to help,” she says. It falls flat. 

“It isn’t your business.”

“You never said you needed money.”

“Because it isn’t your business.” He enunciates every syllable clearly. 

She runs a hand through her hair in a nervous, agitated gesture. “None of know what’s going on with you, Grian,” she says. “We didn’t know about this, so what else don’t we know about?”

He doesn’t answer. 

“Okay, fine,” she says desperately. “This wasn’t my business. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have looked at it. But I meant what I said, okay? We don’t know anything about what’s going on with you!”

“There’s the ‘we’ again,” he says. 

She shakes her head, incredulous. “Do I have to literally spell it out for you? Did you forget our names when you moved to America? It’s Jimmy, and Joel, and Martyn, and Netty, and Lizzie. It’s your mom. It’s Mumbo’s parents.” She pauses for just a moment, taking in a short, if slightly hysterical, breath. “It’s me.”

He doesn’t want to hear their names again. He misses them enough already. 

“I’ve talked to them,” he says instead. Simple.

Pearl throws her arms in the air. “For hardly more than five minutes!”

“Well,” he says, with a bitter laugh, “you certainly know I don’t have the money for long-distance calls.”

“I guess I walked into that one,” she says. She stops, but there’s a funny look on her face that keeps Grian quiet. He’s still standing a few feet away from her after he walked off earlier. Her face scrunches up, like she’s trying not to cry, and after another moment she speaks softly: “Mumbo was my friend too, you know.”

It’s soft, but it still hits Grian like a ton of bricks. 

She continues, and doesn’t look him in the eye. “I know he was your friend first, but I cared about him too. We all did.” Suddenly she’s crossing the floor toward him again, closing the distance he had put between them. “But it almost hurts just as bad to know you’re still out here alone. And that you aren’t okay.”

Grian swallows back against the lump that is rapidly forming in his throat. “I’m fine,” he whispers. 

“I don’t believe you,” she says. 

“I’m fine,” he insists. 

“You need to go home to visit,” Pearl says. “Even just for the holidays. Please. Everybody’s worried about you.” She huffs a small little laugh. “They’re all worried and then they’re calling me because they think I know what’s going on. Because I always used to know what was going on with you. And then I have to tell them I don’t know either.”

Grian doesn’t respond.

“They’d be so happy, you know,” Pearl says. “To see you.”

“I’d never come back,” Grian mumbles. “If I went.”

“What?”

“They wouldn’t let me leave,” he says, stronger. “If I went home they wouldn’t let go.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Pearl asks.

Grian shakes his head like he’s breaking free of her request. “I have to stay here, because Mumbo is here.”

Pearl blinks, and then sighs. “Okay. I still think you should visit, though.”

Her eyes drift away from his face and over to the hallway behind him, the one all the bedrooms and bathrooms break off of. She speaks again sharply. “The money problem, it’s because of Mumbo isn’t it? You used to split all of the rent and stuff because he was your roommate. But now it’s all on you.”

“Something like that,” Grian admits, and it feels like he’s speaking around a block sitting in his mouth.

Their apartment is nice. Not luxurious by any means, but still a decent place to live. His neighbor down the hall yells at him sometimes if he comes back home too late and their door used to slam unpredictably until the landlord finally fixed it months later, but isn’t that all just everyday woes of having an apartment? 

The apartment is nice, but it was never meant to be paid for by one person. Well, maybe a well-paid person. It’s not like his landlord wouldn’t have rented it out to a single person if they could pay. But Grian had never planned to pay for it by himself. And while architecture could be a well-paying job, he was very much still at the entry level. He’d only barely gotten his license after years of schooling and on-site training. 

And then he’d gotten demoted for not showing up. The demotion wasn’t in job duties only, as he’d discovered on his very next paycheck. 

So now he does what he can. He pays the major, important things first. Sometimes they’re a little late, depending on if his check has hit his bank account yet, but it gets done. He starts to depend more and more on his credit card for other things. He pays his minimum payment every month but he doesn’t feel good about watching it accrue. 

“I can help you pay it off-” Pearl starts to say. 

“No,” Grian says. “You aren’t doing that.”

“I can help you pay it off,” Pearl repeats stubbornly. “But Griba, if you can’t afford this place by yourself, you need to just move to someplace else. Smaller. Cheaper.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he says. 

She tilts her head, expression gentle in a way that makes him instinctively recoil. “You can’t keep living here if you can’t pay. This is bad.”

“It’s okay,” he says distantly. “It’s only temporary.”

Pearl pauses. She has a horrible look on her face, so Grian looks away from her instead. “Temporary?” she asks. The word is tentative.

“Until Mumbo gets back,” he says. He grabs her hand, and pulls it closer to him, feeling suddenly like it’s very important that she hears him and understands this. “I can’t leave,” he says earnestly. “All of his stuff his here. It’s his home too.”

Pearl’s eyes are wide. “I can help you pack it,” she says. “You don’t even have to mess with it, or look at it, I can do that for you.”

He drops her hand. “No,” he says, baffled. “I’m not moving anything of his out of here. When they find him, he deserves to actually come home. He can’t come back to a strange place!”

Pearl squeezes her eyes shut. “Griba, please,” she says. He notices all at once that she’s brought his nickname out these past few times, which is a fact that should be comforting but instead starts to set off alarm bells in his head. 

“I’m not moving, and that’s final,” he says. “I’m not going to abandon him.”

“You’re not abandoning him, you’re just…”

“Just what?”

“Being smart.”

It hurts Grian. “He deserves to come home,” he bites. “I don’t care if it isn’t the smart thing to do, it’s the right thing to do.”

Pearl backs up. “Okay,” she says. “Okay.” She takes a deep breath and exhales long and slow. “You’ll stay. I’ll just help you then, yeah? Bills, cleaning, everything else…”

She turns away from him, and starts picking up various items once more to organize them. “I’ll just help,” she repeats.

She wanders around the room. She’s not getting much done, but she looks busy, inspecting everything around her for one more easy thing to do. Grian just stands in the middle of the room stock still, and both says and does nothing. 

Pearl continues to busy herself for a few minutes before grinding to a halt again. “Griba?” she asks, and Grian turns to her again as an answer. “You do have other people to talk to, right? People who live here?”

It’s a valid question. It’s a hard question. 

“Of course,” he says. 

“Stop lying to me,” she pleads. “I already told you I know you too well.”

He swallows hard. “I have people,” he defends. “Had people.”

It’s just that–it was difficult, after Mumbo disappeared. The new friends that Grian and Mumbo had made, they had mostly made as a pair. They each knew a few people from work, but nobody to really hang out with. So most of the friends they met were people they met while doing an activity together some weekend or evening after work. 

So the new friends missed Mumbo too, when they heard about what happened. But they didn’t know Grian the way Mumbo did, or the way Jimmy or Joel or Martyn or Netty or Lizzie or Pearl did. They knew Grian as one half of a pair who was missing his other half. And Grian didn’t know how to interact with them alone. He didn’t know how to go to them for help when they’d barely been in his life for a few months or a year or two. 

There’s layers to friendships, everybody knows that. None of the people Grian had met in Colorado had made it to the layer where he could talk to him. They were nice people. They wanted to help. Grian didn’t know how to let them. 

So he withdrew. 

“You had people. But not anymore?” Pearl asks. 

“I didn’t know them very well,” is all he says. 

Her expression breaks again. Grian has to stop doing that. “But you know us and you still don’t talk to us.”

“I just want to be alone,” Grian says. “Please, it isn’t personal. I just want to be alone.”

“I guess you’ll have to suck it up,” Pearl says. “Because I’m staying here for a week. And I will drag you outside to go skiing with me. I’m going to make you leave this house and we’re going to have fun together. Because I think you need that. And so do I.”

He turns and stalks back into the kitchen. He’s flipping between so many emotions that he doesn’t know which to settle on, so he seeks out something to busy his hands with instead: the dishes on the counter that still have to be dried. 

If he stays in the living room, he might start arguing with her more. He might say something that will make her not want to visit again. 

He’s angry at Pearl. Furious, even. Offended. He could look past her coming unannounced to visit, but the whole thing seems like a plot now. She’s got ulterior motives. She’s purposefully trying to catch him unaware and sneak past all his guard walls. She’s snooping through his things–his mail. It makes his spine crawl to think about. She’s literally trying to get him to move, even though she’s barely been in the state of Colorado for three hours, and even though it means Grian would have to disturb Mumbo’s belongings. 

And still there’s another part of him that just really, really wants to go skiing with her. 

Because–he misses her. He cares about her. And he misses even the simplest things, like getting out of the house to go do something with a friend. It’s just the littlest piece of normalcy. 

So he dries the dishes, and she finishes up in the living room. Then he goes to his bedroom and starts working there–without her, because he doesn’t want her in the room until he’s made it look nice. Safe, even. Clear of any items that could incriminate him in anything at all. The sheer irritation of the afternoon fuels him harder than anything in months, and he finishes the task even quicker than expected, his movements stiff and jerky with anger. 

On one of his trips back and forth to put things back where they need to go, he spots her sitting at his desk. She looks a little sad, staring at the pattern of the wood grain instead of the pretty view outside. He ignores her and goes back to work. 

They exist like this in silence, for a little over an hour. 

Then Grian walks back into the living room, picks up the phone book from the shelf, and sits down at the table by the kitchen where the phone is. 

Pearl whirls around and he can feel her watching him with intense eyes. “Griba, I…” she trails off. “I wanted to say I’m sorry again. I shouldn’t have pressed you like that. I shouldn’t have looked at your bills. And I shouldn’t have come here without telling you.”

Grian just nods slightly. “Yeah.” He flips through some more pages. He doesn’t say anything else to her, just continues on his search. 

She cocks her head slightly. “What are you doing?” she asks. 

“Trying to find a ski resort to call,” he says with a weak smile. “Because I still really want you to drag me out skiing with you.”

»»———-　　———-««

June 1989

It’s two days later when a pair of rangers come to collect Mumbo’s bike. 

They ask him if he has everything he needs, or if he has any requests for supplies that they can pass on to the main office. So Grian takes the first opportunity to ask them about the Cloud Lake Trail, and if it was really closed last season. 

It’s then that he realizes that these two probably aren’t actually rangers at all. They may be dressed in uniform, but they’re just a couple kids several years younger than Grian is. They want to be helpful so earnestly, and their disappointment is clear when they can’t answer his question.  

They inform him that it’s their first season working here, so they’re not exactly sure about what the Cloud Lake Trail was like last year, but that it’s open right now if he’s interested in it! Grian realizes that they’re a couple of seasonal workers just like he is, except they’re on summer break from college and Grian’s floundering on the cusp of his 30s. 

They’re friendly. Grian tries his best to match the energy, for the sake of politeness.

He asks them what the plan is about Mumbo’s case, and doesn’t really expect much. Apparently, there’s a bit of gossip about the case around the ranger’s office, so they do know a little. The plan seems to be to conduct a few aerial searches of the area the bike was found in with a helicopter. They also told him he could expect a more detailed phone call soon from the main office. 

That’s a little amusing to Grian, given his tower does not have a phone line. 

He bids them farewell at midday and watches them disappear into the woods. Then, he decides it’s about time for lunch. He takes an hour, locks up the cabin behind him, and heads to a rocky outcropping he knows nearby to the tower. 

It’s a beautiful spot to sit and stay a while, and a good vantage point into a little valley. Grian sits on a boulder and finishes his lunch, and tries to think about things that aren’t so negative for once. 

He’s so used to looking. Looking for fires, looking for helicopters, looking for storms, looking for lightning, looking for Mumbo. It’s what he’s good at, so he tries to challenge himself to look at something else for once. 

A few feet from him, there’s a small stand of light purple flowers with narrow, silvery green leaves growing. They’re snagging their spot in the ground amidst the surrounding rock. One of the features of his tower is a somewhat excessive amount of posters left there from years past, most of which were fire, forest, rock, or plant related. Grian thinks he’s seen this little plant several times before. He’s watched it spread from just a few sprouts in May to coating the meadows in a wash of purple the past few weeks. 

It’s a lupine. Growing alone, but steadily. 

He looks more into the mini valley below. It’s not so much a vast sweeping valley as it is a wide little canyon for the stream that flows at the bottom. It’s fascinating to look at though. To think how long it might have taken for that little body of water to have carved it down like this. There’s some small rocky cliffs along the edges in some places, and he can see the darker parts of the rocks where the water pours off during a storm. 

It’s as quiet as the forest can be. Which, in the summertime, isn’t very quiet at all. There’s cicadas buzzing all around him right now. That was something new for Grian ever since he moved–they didn’t have cicadas in England. But as loud as they are, it’s a pleasant background noise he’s become adjusted to. 

He leans back on the rock and stares into the sky for a bit, watching the handful of clouds that there are today drift along. There’s a hawk or an eagle or something flying high up there too, gliding effortlessly along the air currents. He watches it for a while. 

When Grian’s hour is up, he gathers his things, and walks back to the tower. 

Scar calls him on the way. 

“Are you there, G-man?” he asks. 

Grian pulls out his radio from his pocket. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I am. Some kids came and took Mumbo’s bike away earlier.”

“Yeah?” Scar says. “How was that? What did they say?”

“They didn’t know much,” Grian says. “A couple of seasonal workers. But it’s fine, I guess. I know the main office will be looking into this again. They told me there might be some aerial searches in the future. I just wish it was higher on the priority list, I guess.”

“Well, they have their priorities and we have ours,” Scar declares. “But I think I can shed a little light on it, maybe. I spent most of the morning on the phone.”

It’s kind, what Scar is doing for him. That Scar is helping him like this at all, not even accounting for spending time scouring his notes from the prior season or spending all morning on the phone. Grian needs to thank him, or convey his appreciation somehow, or apologize for snapping at him so much, but instead all he says is: “What did you find?”

“I wish I had better news,” Scar says. 

Grian locks away the part of him that is always stabbed with instant anxiety over statements like that. He takes it, locks it away, and smooths it over. He’s walking on the trail back to the lookout right now, one foot in front of the other. He can handle just another conversation. 

“Well, I seem to always be lacking in good news,” Grian jokes lightly. “So just give me what you got.”

“I talked to a friend in the main office, she’s really sweet. She went to pull the records for me.”

“They’re still on file? Good.”

“Everything’s on file, Grian,” Scar says. “The government will keep an old shoe for a decade if they think it’s a record, let alone anything that relates to an open case.”

Grian grimaces a little. “Well, go on then.”

“She found his backcountry permit information from last year. And…” Scar trails off for a bit. “He’s permitted for Cloud Lake Trail. He even had designated camping spots, she even told me which ones.”

“So the trail was open?” Grian says. 

“Not exactly,” Scar says. “The trail was closed.”

“What?” Grian says. “They permitted him for a closed trail?”

“Apparently?” Scar says. “That’s what I got.”

“Why?”

“I wish I knew.”

“What else did she say? Who issued the permit?”

“She didn’t say anything else, so I don’t know. I’ve never worked in the main office. I don’t think she was even supposed to tell me that, honestly, but we’ve always got along pretty good since she started working here.”

“Right,” Grian says. “You’re not an information wizard…”

“I have no more information to give, unfortunately,” Scar says. “I am a wizard, though.”

“You are not a wizard.”

“I’m many things, Grian. You’re just a nonbeliever.”

Grian just shakes his head at that, leaving that thread of the conversation behind. There’s just so many questions that keep coming up. 

“So we can agree he was on Cloud Lake,” Grian says. “Right? Regardless of all that, we can assume this right? He told me he was going there, his car was there, he was permitted for it, and someone said they saw him there. So he was there, right? We searched there, and he was there.”

But…

“It seems likely,” Scar says. “At one point, at least.”

“But then someone found his bike over on Pinnacles. How did it get there? Did he go there for some reason?”

“There isn’t an official trail that connects Cloud Lake and Pinnacles. It’s not a loop or a network or anything. Maybe he could have found a way between them or went on an unofficial side trail. There’s a lot of things that look like they could be a trail that aren’t really trails.”

“No,” Grian says. “He knows better than to take an unmarked trail. He said he was getting maps at the office when he got his permit too, so he would have known where the trails were. He wouldn’t have done that.”

“Grian.” 

Just his name, the weight it holds, and nothing else.

Grian’s face crumples a bit. He doesn’t want to admit it. It hurts to admit it.  “Okay, fine!” he cries. “Maybe he did go off-trail, maybe he did make a mistake, whatever. But it’s not his fault if something bad happened, okay? It isn’t.”

There’s another option to all of this that Grian hasn’t said out loud yet. He’s been thinking it off and on though for a long time, as he tries to fit these pieces into the larger puzzle. Nobody had any reason to think about foul play but him. There’s no evidence. But what other evidence do they have?

He went camping. He went missing. The search failed. Some of his belongings were found in the wrong place. 

And that is, essentially, it. 

“Do you think what happened to him…” he trails off. “Do you think it could have been someone else?”

Maybe Mumbo never did make a mistake. Maybe he was exactly where he was supposed to be, sans closed trail, and there was just something else that got in the way. 

“Someone else?” Scar says, tentatively. 

“Do you think someone out there might have taken him? Hurt him?” Grian is back at the base of his tower now, and he looks up at its spiraling staircase. He begins to take the steps one by one, watching as the horizon slowly inches into view as he climbs above the trees. “Did someone steal his bike? Is that why it’s somewhere else?”

“I…” Scar trails off. “I guess we don’t know if something like that happened. G, there’s a lot of ways someone can get in trouble back here.”

“And one of them could have been someone else,” Grian says. “Doesn’t this connect some of the dots, Scar? So much of this doesn’t make sense, but if someone else was involved, couldn’t that answer some of these questions?”

But the words hang heavier in the air now that he’s spoken to them. 

If Mumbo had just gotten lost, or injured, or something else while alone in the woods, Grian has some hope of saving him. Mumbo is blindingly smart, with an engineer’s eye for designing devices and contraptions. He could be okay. He’s a little lost, but Grian can find him. 

But if Mumbo’s incident was linked to another person, the odds in Grian’s mind plummet. If Mumbo ran into someone bad at some point during his trip, would he have escaped that confrontation? If someone had decided to hurt him, or take him, or rob him, or whatever–then Mumbo’s continued absence just looms more and more ominously. 

Would he make it out of something like that? Would he survive it? 

Grian reaches the top of his tower. If he looks straight through the windows of his cabin and out the other side, he can see Scar’s little cabin far in the distance. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “But I don’t think I want to talk about this anymore. Thank you for the new information though.”

He turns his radio off and goes inside. He spends the rest of his work day in silence, watching the smoke twist in the air. 

<< Chapter Five | Masterpost | Chapter Seven >>

[riotbeankai]

Boy am I glad I waited to watch the last 20 minutes of this movie (Smile, 2022) until this morning. I got interrupted by a 2+ hour phone call in the middle of the movie and it was about 9pm by the time I was able to resume, and I got to a point where I could tell there was a lot of dark creepy jump scares coming, so I was just like nope the rest of this is daytime watch material, I have to work tomorrow. I was definitely correct, I would not have been dreaming about being able to eat dairy again if I'd finished it last night.

[boyfhee]

no no no apologies, you can reply to my asks whenever you want. i missed talking to you too, my fever has been with me for the past two days. it increased to 103 today and i thought i would die due to headache :( but i am too, excited for romance : untold, she gonna be my fav i think. did you see the tracklist??? we gotta talk about it ㅠㅠ

i will definitely ask you like a whole manhwa recs cause i wanna read them too >_< i haven't seen the kdramas you have mentioned (adapted from the manhwa) but i think i will read them once i am ready for it, since conselling is this week. i will be busy :] hehe

same >//< i like workplace romance + historical romance and those fantasy romance too, i think i would be addicted too so i will reward myself if i study daily hehe i mean code and study calculus daily :p

pls pls i thought what craze is there for anime not until my friend recommended me jjk to watch, i was heart broken, devasted amd then at that time, after completing the movie and s1 ㅠㅠ i, i got the news of ded kitkat :( soo it sad for me amd then silent voice 😭 i am glad i started watching animeno, because when i started watching anime, last year aug, all the good anime were completed, especially aot — mikasa and eren <333 i havent watched it the way people were hyped for the finale on 4th nov. i remember it still fresh :( huhu help! even i watched the movies you mentioned hehe… i watched 5cm per sec too and i could understand the feelings there, the deep connections they had (≡人≡；)

haikyuu, my 10th friends begged me to watch it but i think I'll give it a try later since you are saying it is cute >_< whatever you say is good, i go see or watch or read that ;)

yea, i thought the books they were recommendeding were fluff not until i saw the comments so i stopped watching those kinds of reels :/ please tell me more others like that, even i wanna read, just recommend me the books you read + the authors work you have mentioned pleaseeee (i thought you were talking about bsd until i realised they were real authors!! dazai sucode mf ㅠㅠ)

thanks fo reading till here amd then from the day you answer this ask, we will be talking on Instagram i guess?? i love you, good night sweetheart, ^3^ muah~

— lover club anon

can this fever leave u alr :/ u should sleep it off :D how was your movie today ?? did u go or did you skip because of fever :O i hope you feel better today >< i've seen the tracklist and seeing jvke there made me so happy TT i know the album is a banger aaa i can't wait to hear it

you should def watch the kdramas i mentioned when you have time because they're just so so cute ^_^ and the manhwas are adorable too >< lmk ur fav genres and tropes and i will make a detailed rec list for u :D workplace romance and historical are so 🙁💗 also love me some cute family guy .. like i read daytime star and it's so so cute and fluffy omg TT i need what the main couples have there please ... also, i hope ur counselling goes well ^^

jjk being first anime is a different kind of trauma 💗 ALSO me and my brother started aot together and dropped it withing ten minutes lmfao TT i kinda want to watch more movies .. maybe i will tomorrow ><

for book recs uhh i haven't read that many actually .. but i've really liked the one's that i did so i hope you like them too ^_^

kafka on the shore by murakami

no longer human ++ setting sun by osamu dazai

crime and punishment by fydor dostoevsky

the silent patient by alex michaelides ( SO GOOD )

girl on the train by paula hawkins

death on the nile by agatha christie ( has a movie too )

to kill a mocking bird by harper lee

the vegetarian by han kang ( if u love murakami u will love this )

seven years of darkness by you-jeong jeong

i think that's all for now .. i've read a few others but the ones i mentioned above stick out the most to me. if you read, do let me know if u like it :D love u mwah

[imaginearyparties]

𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧

PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

SUMMARY: Natasha commits atrocities. You turn the stories of them into her sweetest sins. 

A/N: I didn't proofread this but @foreverindreamlandd and @aphrogeneias did so massive shoutout to them. Inspired by "Queen" by Perfume Genius, covered by Sizzy Rocket. Happy pride to the WLWs, here's some angst.

WARNINGS: 18+ minors please dni, foreplay (almost but not quite sex), semi-graphic discussions of death and violence, morally dubious reader

MASTERLIST

Natasha returns from her mission a minute into an episode of House Hunters. She drops her bag by the front door and heads straight for the bathroom without looking at you. 

This is the way she handles all of her missions. She won’t touch you until she’s clean. It’s not the whole truth - with Natasha it rarely is - but in this case you’re glad for it. (If she waited until she truly felt clean, you think she’d never have touched you at all).

You wait until you can hear the low hum of running water, and then deliberately focus in on the episode of House Hunters. 

Vijay is a devoted recreational soccer player, Meghan is pregnant with twins, they want a place in the suburbs that’s walkable to local businesses. It is imperative to them that they have room to run around out back, even if it means the future twins will have to share a room. 

Natasha emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, just as they begin to deliberate their choice. She doesn’t smile, she doesn’t make a joke, just wordlessly comes to sit next to you on the couch. Her thigh is centimeters from yours. (She doesn’t touch you).

House number one was perfect, but listed about $4,000 over budget. Vijay-and-Meghan’s offer would probably have to be significantly more than that just to be competitive. House number two is a fixer-upper, which they doubt they can commit to given how soon the twins are coming. House number three is a great location but Vijay has his heart set on a massive backyard where he can train his two future Beckhams.

You almost want to laugh at all of it, watching daytime mom TV at 2 AM with a nearly-naked g-ddess of death so close you can feel the heat from her shower. Of all of Natasha’s performances, it’s this one, (pretending to be average), that she's never managed to pull off. 

“The mission was a success,” Natasha says over Meghan’s giddy reveal that they’re going with House number one. 

You turn to look at her and purse your lips. The definition of “success” is a fight you’ve had before, and you’re tempted to challenge her as you watch the end credits of House Hunters glisten in her eyes. If she were anyone else you’d think she was about to start shaking. 

Instead, you keep your tone even and ask, “What do you need?”

Natasha turns towards you, a thread snagging and beginning to unravel. There’s a long moment during which she closes off her face and you allow her to see into yours. When her response comes, it’s just a whisper.  

“You.”

Relief sings in your veins. That, at least, you can give her.

You move slowly, afraid to spook the divine creature beside you. You mute the TV. You rise from the couch. You bring your hands up gently against her shoulders, pushing backwards until you get her lying on the couch. Nat’s eyes track these movements closely, landing back on your face once you’re situated above her, your hands pressed into the cushion on either side of her neck. 

You look straight at her. She nods. Her towel slips off her torso.

“Tell me what happened,” you command. 

She nods. Your fingers find the knot of her towel and release it, as Natasha begins talking. 

“We were in this small town, Eastern Europe but I’ve stopped paying attention to exactly where. It was supposed to be a There was this team of soldiers…”

You kiss her first at the fleshy part of her throat, where you can feel the vibration of her voice against your lips. Then, a little lower, in the gap between her collarbones. 

“They were Russian. I could tell by the training, before I even heard them speak. One of them called me a bitch to my face, like I couldn’t understand him.” 

You can’t help but smile a little.

“You know I can feel you smiling, right?”

You bite back a laugh. “Keep going.”

“There’s not much to tell, really. My intel told me that they’d be less loyal to the cause than they were. Guess the KGB really hates a traitor. Anyways, there were these kids…”

You continue your trail of kisses, adding little bites here and there when you can hear her spirit leave her voice. She gasps and arches against you when your lips touch her skin, right under her belly button.

“You were doing so well Natalya,” you say, mock disappointment dripping from each word.

When you’re met with silence, you look up. Natasha’s eyes are glazed over. She jerks her lips into a wry, wretched smile.

“I put a bullet in someone today, right there. The guy that called me a bitch. Heard a little girl scream when he went down.”

There’s a painful squeeze in your chest, but you return to your kisses. It won’t do for you to shatter the illusion now. 

“She was yelling, screaming really. ‘Папочка! папочка!’ And then she ran out into the street and cried right there, over his body.”

Natasha pauses, swallows. You wait for her to start again.

“I didn’t even check for kids. I didn’t sweep the area, I just assumed that STRIKE had it handled. I should’ve looked. I should’ve-”

“That isn’t story, любовь моя.”

You can hear her swallow. You start your kisses again. 

“When I saw her, I didn’t even think about any of it. How it’d affect her, how to get her to safety. I just thought about how bad it’d be for the Avengers if it got out that I’d shot a kid.”

You’re almost done with your trail, your lips below her stomach. 

“It took someone from STRIKE asking me if I thought she was a threat to realize nobody was going to make me kill her. If I’d acted on instinct- stop. Stop, Y/n, just- stop it.”

You push yourself up and away from her completely, resting on your knees, just over her calves. Natasha’s eyes are wet and wide and trained on you. You both take a minute to catch your breath.

“I love you,” you say. 

(You know that she is scared of what it means, your ability to love her. She wonders what’s broken inside you. She wonders if she broke it.)

She swallows. “I know.”

There’s another pause.

“I’m terrible,” she says. 

You nod. It’s the truth.

There are parts of Natalya Romanova that are disgusting. There are parts of her that you literally can’t stomach sometimes, atrocities you never want to know about. There are stories that make you flinch, stories you wish you’d never been told, stories that make you wonder how awful you are for ignoring them, for turning them into sex and passion and soft, aching memories that keep you company when Natasha is away. 

But the atrocities do not stop you. Natasha is a g-ddess. She is as awful and wonderful as any other holy thing. The atrocity is part of her, same as the secrets or the red hair or the coy smiles. They do not make it harder to crawl back home to her at the end of every day. They don’t stop you from gripping her thighs and diving headfirst into the most intimate parts of her.

“Okay,” you shrug. “You’re terrible.”

You position yourself back where you were before, your lips now inches from her sex. 

“All g-desses are terrible,” you tell her. “It makes them no less entitled to worship.”

A thousand emotions flash in Natasha’s eyes: shock, horror, love, terror, disgust, and then a grim sort of acceptance. She nods, almost smiles. And then she stretches one of her signature coy smiles across her face.

“Worship me, then.”

You let a grin stretch across your face. And then worship her you do.

Папочка - "papa"

любовь моя - "my love"

thank you so much for reading! <3

[spilledkauffie]

Dating Bruce Wayne HCs 🦇

xFemale!Reader // I just really love my batbaby, I wrote this for comfort at 3am. Sorry, it’s a little long!

Penthouse / The Mansion — when Bruce starts dating you he very quickly offers you a key to his penthouse and the mansion. While he means it out of trust and care for you, he also means it as a form of safety. Knowing that you can find a refuge in one of his safe houses makes him feel a little more at ease when things get seriously dangerous in the city. Once or twice he’s even sent you specifically to the mansion since it’s farther away from the inner city and he knows you’ll be safest there. || “you’re sure about this?” You question, amazed that Gotham’s richest Just handed over the keys to his house, “I mean I’m absolutely flattered, but I not allowed to just come over anytime-“ // “yes, you are,” Bruce assures you, “Wayne manor is as good as yours,” he shrugs with a half smile, seeing your face, “you know Alfred always likes company too.”

↳ he also explains that he really wouldn’t mind if you spent most of you time at his place. “Are you asking me to move in?” You smile, heart racing afraid he’d say no. “I don’t mean to impose, but here’s plenty of room, I’d love to have you there, after all the place could use a woman’s touch,” he blinks lovingly. “And so could you, Master Wayne,” Alfred comments walking by.

Driving the Lamborghini — you were shocked when he let you drive after you commented how much you loved his car. “Really?” You smiled, eyebrows raised, “but what if something happens- I- I won’t try to cause anything, but just what if-“ Bruce just smiles, looking over to you from the passenger seat, “if anything goes wrong, I’ll buy a new one, okay? Don’t worry, just have some fun.”

When You Found Out — Gotham isn’t a hard place to find yourself endangered in. Therefore when the Dark Knight showed up in the nick of time you found it curious that of all the crime situations he’d save you. It all made sense however when he dropped the gravely voice to quietly ask you, “are you okay?” // it took you a moment, looking over what you could see of his face, meeting his eyes you knew exactly who it was “Bruce?!” You say shocked, but he just repeats the question softly, “y-yeah, I’m okay, a little shook up, but-” // “I’m taking you back to stay with Alfred for the rest of the night. I promise I’ll explain everything in the morning.”

Falling asleep — since Bruce is usually up all night and still manages to make himself available for any Wayne company meetings, he is tired! More often than not he’ll fall asleep during the daytime hours. || frequently, you’ll be reading on the couch and he’ll come rest his head in your lap, hooking an arm under your knee and using your thighs as a pillow, before questioning what you’re reading. When you tell him he asks you to read aloud, naturally doing so, you stroke your free hand through his hair, gently fluffing it every now and then. Eventually, you hear him softly breathing, sound asleep. Typically you’ll stop reading aloud and just let him sleep in quiet.

↳ sometimes when you had plans for a day, you opt to cancel them based on how tired he is when he gets back. Finding him in his study, practically falling asleep at his desk, you let him know you’ll be staying home. Standing next to his chair, you tenderly reach your hand across his shoulders, rubbing them, when he stirs you tell him, “What? No, but you really wanted to go-“ he starts, sitting up a little more, looking up at you sweetly. “Bruce, I just want to spend time with you,” you almost laugh at how determined he is to wear himself out, “I don’t want to exhaust you, I really don’t mind staying home, as long as you’re home.” With that he pulls you into his lap; you reach your arms around his shoulders and he nuzzles against your chest, arms snug around your waist. You don’t mind one bit that he falls asleep, you just play with the tops of his hair stroking the back of his neck, hugging him a little closer, simply glad that he’s home & safe.

Hyper-protective — naturally, Bruce is extremely protective of you. Bruce has a really good understanding of independence, but he also knows the kind of guys in the elite society of Gotham (aka the people you’ll meet at parties he’s invited to). He’s always at your side, and loves to have you at his side at all times. Someone gets a little too friendly and Bruce is phenomenal at shutting them down. Typically they’ll only verbally address you, but should they ever try anything it’s a comfort knowing Bruce could, well, kick their ass if they laid so much as a finger on you.

Parties — Bruce can always tell when you’re feeling uncomfortable in the high-class society, you start leaning into him more and more, getting gradually more clingy as the night goes on. Bruce is a master as getting out of situations with easy excuses, so when he gives ones without you having to ask you fall in love just a little bit more.

Long Nights in the Batcave — after you found out, there are some nights you just can’t sleep knowing Bruce is out there getting into Heaven knows what kind of danger. Alfred often finds you sitting up in the Batcave with a hot cup of tea or sometimes coffee, so you can stay awake. Alfred’s become you buddy at staying up, most of the time, rarely he calls it a night, but when he does it’s usually because Bruce told him it was going to be an easy mission or it was just investigative. Alfred asks if you’re going to retire as well, “I know he would want me to just go to bed and not worry,” you admit, pulling your knees into yourself more, “but I just can’t help but worry about him.” Alfred watches you keeping a keen eye on the the tracking screen, “I know what you mean, I’m glad he’ll have someone much prettier to come back to now though.”

↳ when Bruce finds you sitting alone in the Batcave upon his return, he’s both relieved to see you and mildly frustrated that you didn’t get any sleep all thanks to him. “I thought you said you were going to try and get some sleep,” he calls to you, slipping off the mask as he makes his way over to you. “I was just worried,” you say in a small voice, sniffling, pressing the tea cup closer to your chest, in an attempt for some warmth in the cave. Sighing quietly, Bruce looked you over, “you should head upstairs, you’re freezing, I can tell.” Despite his efforts, you tell him you’ll wait until he’s ready too. So, Bruce wraps the heavy velvet cape around your shoulder in the meantime.

Aftercare — unlike some heroes, Bruce has the scars to prove it. He comes home bruised, bleeding, sometimes worse. You do everything you can to help with his injuries, even if that means just holding an icepack to the middle of his back. // Sitting on the edge of the bed, Bruce rests his forearms on his thighs, bending over slightly as you gently press the ice filled bag to his raspberry tinted shoulder. When he grumbles at the cold, you whisper "sorry" stroking up and down his bicep with your free hand as you pepper kisses across his back. Bruce takes your hand in his, turns to kiss your knuckles, and whispers against your skin, "thank you, somehow it feels better with you."

Aftermath — Bruce is usually a little more clingy after a serious fight with some injuries. He's thinking about what he could have lost, you, and if you'd lost him how guilty he would feel knowing he left you alone. Typically he also takes a night or two off, to recover, in which you can actually have some normalcy (save for him going down to the Batcave) in life. You stay with him in bed while he sleeps in, cuddling him until he wakes up and even then. You also help Alfred make him breakfast in bed, so he can take it easy for just a little while longer. // When it's really bad, you even take off work to stay with him. Combing his hair out of his face, you're the first thing Bruce wakes up to, "hey,. . .aren't you supposed to be downtown?" he asks, still groggy. "I took a few days off," you explain. "Did you tell him you were nursing Batman back to health?" He laughs. "No," you sigh, "I told him Bruce Wayne would buy out his business if he didn't give me two days off," you smile. "Oh, that makes things much easier then," Bruce kisses your wrist smiles up at you.

Batman voice — it has definitely happened once or twice, where Bruce will accidentally use the "Batman voice" on you, not even in arguments, but just in everyday things. Smiling widely after he address you with it, you turn with your hands on your hips, "did you just use your batman voice on me?" you nearly laugh, "what. . . no," he tries to cover up. "You totally did!" You laugh this time. "No-" but before he can finish his sentence you're already mimicking his batman voice standing in your most macho stance, walking towards him between giggles, "alright, alright," Bruce grabs you by the waist, pulling you close, "it just slipped out."

Daytime Sex — since he's preoccupied during the night (or at least most nights), Bruce usually manages to steal you away from whatever you're doing for awhile. He starts out fairly subtle, coming up behind you whilst you're working on your laptop, he moves your hair to one side and begins kissing the side of your neck softly. "Mmm, hi," you giggle, biting in your lower lip. "Hi," he noses your hair, "how busy are you?" You smile, looking over your shoulder as his hands slip down your sides, "how busy do you want me to be?" He pulls back, "with work? Not very. With me? Very." Naturally he sweeps you off your feet to the bedroom, or at least a bedroom when you're at the manor.

[folklorelise]

Captain’s girlfriend being the Mom of the survey corps

You are Levi’s girlfriend, and you LOVE taking care of these kids.

  - Background story

As a kid, you grew up next to Levi and his mother’s door. Your mothers knew each other since they used to work together. You and Levi very soon became inseparable. You would always play together during daytime; you would sleep together too because neither of you wanted to leave each other. You mother died when you were four, and very soon after that a farmer came and took you in. You tried to resist because you wanted to stay with Levi but the military police intervened. You didn’t even get to say goodbye to Levi and you were gone. Levi did not understand why from one day to another, you just disappeared. He asked his mom where you were, but she had no idea too.

”Is it because she doesn’t love me anymore?” Levi wondered.

”I’m sure she loves you, don’t worry about that my angel.” Kuchel reassured him while hugging him.

On your side, the farmer told you that he was your father. Your mother had succeeded, somehow, to send him a letter telling him how she knew she was sick. As a dying wish, she asked him to come and take care of you.

”I want to go back! I have a friend there and I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

”I’m sorry but the Underground is dangerous. You’re much safer here in wall Sina.”

Since then, you lived with your father helping him with the farms. Your father’s farm helped feeding the three military branches, so it was important to work hard. At the age of eighteen, it was time for you to choose a career. Younger, you thought about joining the training corps, but you father was against it, so you continued studying and finally began training as a nurse. You worked with Doctor Yeager a lot and once your trainings were completed, you decided to join the survey corps as nurse to help. You were twenty-one when that happened.

Your first friend was Hange. They would come into the infirmary very often due to their experiments. It was the only friendship you made since you arrived - you didn’t know how to make friends but Hange was very sociable, so they introduced you to Erwin and Mike. One day, you were eating with Hange in your office and you were talking about the latest news.

”Erwin just brought in three recruits!”

”Is that even allowed?” you asked surprised.

”Apparently. They were all against it because they’re from the underground. But I’ve seen them in action, and they are amazing. Even more because they had no training. You have to see them in action, because one of them, Levi, is truly a titan slayer god.” Hange blabbered.

”Levi?” you wondered, could it be your Levi? It has been a very long time, but he was only friend when you were a kid. Was he still alive? If so, did he change? Surprisingly, you still looked a lot like when you were a kid (according to your father).

”Yeah that’s his name, and his friends are here too — Isabel and Furlan. They are probably training right now if you want to meet them.”

”Why not!”

You finished your meal and went to the training grounds.

”FLAGON! Hi!” Hange screamed.

”Hange and my favourite nurse!” Flagon smiled, ”If you are here to meet my new members, they are killing titans.”

”Y/N come, let’s find them!”

Hange took your arm and run through the trees and once you spotted them, you stopped. They were good. One of them turned their head to where you and Hange were and for a second, you two made eye contact. He froze for a second but quickly continued to kill fake titans.

”Are you okay?” Hange asked you worried. ”You look like you’ve seen a titan.”

”No, I’m good but I have to go, I just remembered how I had some paperwork to do. Hm I’ll see you later!” you explained before running away.

Once the three of them were done training, they met Hange and Flagon again.

”Who was that girl?” Levi asked abruptly.

”Why do you care?” Flagon answered.

”Just tell me.” Levi urged clenching his teeth.

”That was our nurse.” Hange responded to avoid more conflict between the two of them.

”I want her name!” Levi growled exasperated.

”It’s Y/N, why?”

Levi didn’t answer Hange and just left rapidly. Isabel and Furlan were just as confused as the two squad leaders. You lock yourself in your office, panting a little because you ran to there. Levi knew where the infirmary was so he just knocks on your office’s door. He tried to open the door when you did not answer but it was locked.

”You’re a nurse, you can’t ignore your patients!” Levi yelled. ”Open the door now! Y/N!”

You unlocked the door and opened it slowly. You were scared to look at him so you’re eyes were fixed on his shoes. He gently pushed you inside so you would both have privacy. After a minute or two of silence, Levi suddenly took you in his arms.

”I thought that you were dead,” Levi mumbled, ”when you didn’t came that day, I thought that I’d never see you again.”

”I’m sorry,” you said hugging him back, ”a man came in when my mom died and he said that he was my father and since then, he took care of me. What about you? What are doing here? How’s your mom?” you asked softly.

”Erwin took us in,” Levi revealed briefly, ”and my mom died a few days after you were gone.”

”Oh... I’m so sorry about that.” you said looking at him.

”I’m glad you’re here.”

Since that day, you two spent all your free time together. Very soon enough, you met Levi’s friends. You loved spending time with them, and everything was fine. Until that expedition, where both Furlan and Isabel died. You tried your best to be there for Levi but it was difficult between all the amount of work you had to do after each expedition. So, at night, you would sneak into his room that he used to share with Furlan, but now it was just him. Levi was on his bed, curled up on himself. You would just lay beside him, with your arms around him. You were sleeping together just like you used to when you were kids. Since that day, Levi never let you go back to your old bed.

  - First meeting with the 104th cadets

As head of the medical team, you volunteered to do rounds at the training headquarters because some of the kids were incredibly clumsy. It was the first week of training and you would constantly be visited by Eren. That kid was way too into trainings and wouldn’t mind hurting himself.

”Eren you should really calm down a little bit on the trainings.”

”No! I have to become a survey corps soldier so I can defeat ALL THE TITANS!” Eren screamed determined. Mikasa behind who just grab Eren and forced him to sit on his chair so you could stitch him up.

  —————

  The next kid that you would often see was Armin. He was constantly cold during winter and you would order him to rest instead of training. He would have to stay with you because otherwise, he would continue training because he was determined to pass his evaluations.

”If I rest too long, I’ll forget everything!” Armin tried to explain.

”I don’t want you to get hurt if you work out while being sick like this. You would have to wear so many layers of clothes that you couldn’t even put your ODM gear on.”

Once, you had to come urgently because Armin got extremely sick during winter. And he requested to have you here because apparently, sick Armin is really picky. You couldn’t refuse of course. You took the medicine you had for a cold and some extra blankets because you knew there was not any at the training corps and left. Armin was curled up on himself with his winter coat as well as Mikasa’s on top him.

”Armin, hey, I’m here.” you woke him up gently by sitting next to him.

”My head...” Armin whimpered.

”I know, I asked another nurse to boil some water and. It’s going to get better,” you reassured him, ”here’s some extra blankets I took for you.” you showed him the two blankets and put them on him and took off the coats.

After a few days of intense care from you, Armin started to feel better already. But never enough for him to go back training and once you heard him talking with Eren and Mikasa.

”If I’m better now she’s going to leave and that means no more bedtime stories or anything!”

That night you told him that you had to leave because the survey corps had an expedition, he next morning.

”But you’re not a survey corps soldier.” Armin said confused.

”But I am the nurse assigned for the expeditions.”

”What? But isn’t that too dangerous?”

”I had a lot of training believe me, and I have been doing that for five years now so I think I’m good. But thank you for worrying about me.” you laughed softly. ”I’ll be back in a few weeks alright?”

Armin only nodded and fell back to sleep.

  —————

  Reiner would constantly come for minor injuries or fake ones just because he liked hanging out in the infirmary. Reiner was too adorable for you to send him away. Bertolt would very often be with Reiner, and he would too often apologise for Reiner behaviour.

”I know you must be very busy, We shouldn’t bother you any longer.” Bertolt would blabber.

”Not at all! You kids are too adorable and nice for me to throw you outside.” you reassured them which would always lead to you giving them a hug after. You would remember the first time you hugged Reiner, he back up so brutally that it just confused you.

”What’s wrong? Are you hurt somewhere?” you asked worried.

”No! I-I was just... surprised.”

”Well get used to that then.” you joked before hugging him again.

  —————

  You remember once Jean broke his arm so he couldn’t eat by himself and you had to feed him his soup and bread. Jean was sitting with his friend, but he couldn’t go and grab his food and earlier you had told him to wait for you. Five minutes after, you appeared next to him with his soup and bread and fruit.

”Thanks Y/N but I think I can eat by myself.” Jean said with a grin. You didn’t leave and instead just watched him struggle with his left arm. He would spill half of his spoon on the table but he didn’t ask for help. You took the spoon out of his hand and took a spoonful of soup and blow on it so it wouldn’t be too hot. You put your hand under the spoon and expected Jean to eat the food without protest but that didn’t happen.

”Jean, just eat the food.”

”No! I-”

”Open your mouth before I make you.” you ordered with a firm voice.

Everyone was surprised by your tone since you were always so calm and patient. Jean stopped protestant and ate his food. Once you were done you cleaned his plates and went back to your office without another word. Just before you were ready to go back to the survey corps headquarters, your door opened on Jean.

”Shouldn’t you be sleeping at this hour?” you asked softly.

”I...” he hesitated while blushing a little, ”I’m sorry about earlier. You just — you were just helping me, and I was... a jerk...”

”Jean, it’s fine.”

”You promise?”

”I promise, don’t worry. Now go back to bed, I have to leave soon.”

”When are you coming back?”

”Very soon, so until then, ask Marco to help you eat.”

    - The night of the ceremony

Erwin was delivering his prepared speech, that he had practiced on you and Levi a least a thousand times. You would listen to him attentively in front of the crow. And in the end, only a bunch of them stayed. You would of course see Eren, Armin and Mikasa together. You greeted them and everyone else. You saw Jean sitting alone — you were surprised to see him here since you thought that he would join the MP. Your approached him and sat next to him.

”Are you okay? Where’s Marco?” you wondered.

”Marco’s dead.”

You didn’t say anything and just took Jean in your arms. He rested his head on you shoulder and cried a little.

    - Jean can sleep after Marco’s death

You were in Levi’s office, doing paperwork with him as usual.

”You love these kids too much.” Levi stated.

”What? I like them a little.”

”Oh please. You spent all your free during these last three years with them.”

”It’s my job to take care of them.” you laughed.

”They weren’t even that badly injured.”

”Aw, were you jealous? You just have to tell me and I’m all yours.” you teased him.

”You already are.” Levi expressed with a smirk.

”Oh, I’m out of tea, I’ll be right back.” you warned Levi before leaving, but not before a kiss to your boyfriend.

You walked to the kitchen with your two cups and boiled some water. You poured some water in your cups and left the kitchen which leads to the mess hall. A small figure was sitting alone at the back. You walked closer to that person and quickly noticed Jean.

”Can’t sleep?” you asked softly.

”Every time I close my eyes, I keep seeing Marco’s half body just lying there... alone.”

”I know it’s hard, especially because you just spent three entire years with him.” you sat next to him, ”but you need to rest. You are part of the survey corps now and it’s a lot of work.”

”I can’t fall asleep...”

”Go back to bed and I’ll be there, I just have to take these,” you showed the cups of tea, ”to someone and I’ll be there okay?”

He nodded and left. You ran to Levi’s office and told him what happened.

”You love these kids too much.” Levi repeated.

”I’m sorry, it’s just...”

”Y/N, it’s fine,’ Levi reassured you smiling, ”plus, I know how that Jean boy is your favourite so just go but come back to bed with me!” Levi screamed as you ran out of his office as soon as he said it was fine.

Once in front of Jean’s bedroom that he shared with Connie, you opened the door gently. Connie was sleeping on the top of the bunk bed. Jean was sitting on his bed waiting for you. You sat next to him and took off your shoes.

”I once managed to get a guy who would only sleeps three hours top every night to have a better schedule of sleep. So, I think I can get you to sleep.” you told Jean.

Jean had his head on your lap, and you sat against the wall. You started to tell one of the stories your dad used to tell you when you couldn’t sleep. While doing that, you would of course play with his hair because according to Levi ”that sh!t’s amazing to help me sleep so do it”. Soon after Jean fall asleep. You wanted to leave but he had his arms around you too tight. After an hour of waiting, Levi opened the door with a confused expression.

”What are you still doing here?” Levi asked quietly.

”Jean isn’t letting me go.” you showed his arms around you.

”I’m going to kill that boy tomorrow when training!” Levi yelled softly.

Levi then helped you get out of Jean’s arms. You kissed his forehead before leaving him sleep.

”I’m never going to say this enough but you love these kids too much.”

”I do.” you confessed.

”You shouldn’t.”

”I know, they are strange-”

”No. I’m saying this because if they end up dying in the next few expeditions, you’ll never get over it. And I don’t like seeing you all sad.” he explained.

”I knoow, but I can’t help it if they are all so adorable!”

—————

PART 2: here

MASTERLIST

[aminiatureworld]

Injury II

Characters: Kaeya, Ningguang, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,650

Warnings: Various injuries, blood, burns, minor villain death

Premise: Sometimes the pain of others can hurt even more than one’s own. In which the reader is injured.

Author’s Note: Okay so after the mind numbing fear of my computer almost dying and now maybe emitting a weird smell I’m five seconds away from pure panic. But the show much go on! Even if my word document keeps blacking out.

This is my first time writing for Ningguang! I hope I do my girl justice, she’s voiced by my fav VA, she’s a total powerhouse, I love her so much. 

I tried to make all of the injuries personal to each character in some way. Funny enough Zhongli’s was the hardest to figure out. I eventually settled upon the act of you being injured causing Zhongli’s personal angst, rather than the cause of the injury. I hope it came out well!

Kaeya

Kaeya didn’t often let himself fall into fear. Not since he’d been young did he feel that he could indulge in such a sentiment. True to his vision he’d frozen that part of himself, and now when panic seized him he could feel nothing but stone cold determination, and the need to continue forward without hesitation. Fear was hardly alien to him, he could conjure up the emotion all too well, but it had been dulled and replaced by cynicism and coldness. And occasionally guilt.

Looking back on it Kaeya wasn’t even sure why the two of you had strayed so close to Dragonspine, so close snowflakes were congregating in your hair.

You’d called him a winter fairy in jest at the time, wondering if he wasn’t truly the ruler of that mountain of frost. He’d laughed then, before threatening to take you away to his fairy court. “That would be quite an easy task.” You’d replied. “You’ve already captured my heart after all.”

The two of you were strolling on the rocks that lined the river which separated Dragonspine from the greater Monstadt area. Although adventurers usually roamed the area in the daytime it was now evening, and the lack of people certainly made up for the cold in Kaeya’s mind. He could only be his true self around you after all. Otherwise it was the charming and slick Cavalry Captain, a man who always knew what to say and never harbored any doubts in his mind. Not that he wasn’t still charming around you, he loved seeing you blush from his effusive praise, loved the way you buried your head in his shoulder if the flirting and the teasing ramped up enough. But there was a sincerity to his words that one couldn’t find normally in Kaeya, and he loved to show you bits and pieces of his soul, relieved to finally have someone to talk to.

“Watch your step.” You warned, grabbing onto Kaeya’s hand as he slid a little ways along a rock.

“Thank you darling, although I daresay I’m more worried about you. After all who’s the snow fairy here and who’s the wind sprite, liable to blow away at any moment?”

“So cheesy.” You mumbled, shaking your head, though Kaeya could’ve sworn your cheeks were slightly redder than they were a few moments ago. Laughing he wrapped his arm around your waist. You snuggled into his fur lined coat. “Cold.” You murmured, though you made no move to disconnect yourself. Kaeya smiled and brought his other hand around you in a soft embrace.

“Sorry my dearest, but you’re in love with an icicle.”

“Only terms of magic.” You shot back. “Otherwise you’re a nice warm fire. And don’t you forget that.”

The two of you headed a little ways down, closer to the river. A small group of frost flowers had made it to this side of the banks, and you were adamant on picking some. “They’re so beautiful!” You explained to Kaeya. “And incredibly strong, I can’t believe they managed to grow in that permafrost. They’re simply lovely.”

“Just be careful.” Kaeya commented, standing a little ways back. He didn’t like getting near the river, a river so cold it was always at nearly freezing at the bottom. Cold water and a vision of Cryo didn’t mix well.

“I’ll be fine.” You hopped to your feet, a bouquet of pale blue in your hand. You were smiling from your victory, face full of light and happiness.

It was an expression that changed swiftly as you lost your balance and plummeted into the freezing waters.

Immediately Kaeya leapt down from the rocks he was standing on, kneeling near where you were standing a moment ago. The river wasn’t very fast, bogged down by its width and how far it was away from the waterfalls in the warmer parts of Monstadt. Still it cut off very quickly, having barely the semblance of a beach before opening into a deep chasm, and anyone who fell in it would quickly fall into cold shock. Already your limbs had started seizing, and you were hyperventilating hard. Your arms felt like dead weight, and every second that passed your head dipped lower into the freezing water.

Kaeya gingerly put his hand out to make a platform of ice for him to stand on. Whatever happened he couldn’t fall in as well, it would mean the death of you two. Fear had reared its ugly head again and Kaeya twisted those feelings into action. No matter what he had to act fast and sure. Hesitation was fatal.

Plunging his hand into the water, sucking in a deep breath as the ice that still coated his palms and fingers made contact with the freezing river Kaeya hauled you up onto the icy platform. Taking off his coat he wrapped you up. Removing your gloves so the frozen water wouldn’t be in contact with your already freezing skin Kaeya cursed as he ran towards Springvale, the nearest place he could think of. He’d lugged you onto his back, and could feel the freezing water through his shirt. As he ran he kept up a stream of slightly shaky conversation, rattling off what little he knew of hypothermia.

“It’ll be alright darling, I promise it’ll be alright. You’re just going through shock right now, okay? You’ll be alright, I promise. Just stay awake a little while longer. I know you must be tired from all that excitement, but just stay awake a little longer, just a little longer and then you’ll be nice and warm, just stay awake right now okay?” His voice became more and more desperate as his fear started to tumble out of his grasp, but he kept moving. He wouldn’t lose control of himself now, not until you were safe.

Finally he arrived at Springvale and you’d been rushed to the village doctor. Kaeya was told to go and wait somewhere else, and preferably change out of his freezing cold shirt, but you’d grabbed his hand as he turned to leave and after that he refused to budge, instead borrowing a shirt from the village. He’d reimburse the people who let you two borrow their clothes later.

The entire process was a terrifying one, as you were slowly brought back to warmth. Kaeya took the opportunity to learn as much as he could, noting that you shouldn’t massage limbs back to warmth for fear of heart attack and – much to his chagrin he later joked when the situation was far enough in the past – alcohol was too much of a depressant on your system and could lead to death. All throughout he kept talking to you, even though there were times you didn’t seem to hear, times when he thought his heart would split in two.

Still it was evident you were going to survive and when you’d finally finished being warmed up Kaeya thought he could cry in relief, if only he’d been numbed from such an act for so many years. You’d run into some sort of rock in the water, and the long gash down the side of your leg was later determined by the doctor to reveal torn muscle. It’d take about a month and a half for you to recover. Kaeya thought he should’ve felt worse about it, but in the moment he felt nothing but relief, utter relief in the knowledge you were going to be fine. Utter relief that came with having almost lost you.

Kaeya had carried you back to Monstadt, much to your consternation. All the ways back you mumbled about how his penchant for drama seemed to have increased tenfold. Kaeya simply shook his head, not bothering to ask how you would’ve gotten back otherwise with your leg in the shape it was. Still it was a relief to both of you to see the city walls. Even more of a relief when you finally arrived home, safe and sound.

“I’m so glad you were there.” You confessed as Kaeya sat you down on the couch, propping up your leg and pulling a chair up next to you. “I don’t know what I would’ve done had I fallen and you weren’t there.”

“You probably wouldn’t have been there in the first place.” Kaeya remarked, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. You brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned into it slightly, grateful for the contact between you two. It’d been hours but the panic that he’d felt still tugged at his consciousness, as if any moment you might slip away again and leave him panicked and alone.

“Were you afraid?” You asked.

“Of course I was afraid.” Kaeya’s reply came swift and sure. “I was terrified, terrified in a way that I haven’t been in years.” Kaeya’s eyes clouded over, as if reaching deep into his memories. He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles and then your palm. “I thought that you might die, and in that moment I was ready to curse the world all over again.”

“But I didn’t die.” You said solemnly.

“No, you didn’t.”

“And that’s because of you. Because you reacted quickly, because you had the magic with which to do so, and most of all because you never hesitated. And because of that I’m alive and well now. Injuries aside I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Kaeya knew you were right. You were alive. You weren’t going to go where he couldn’t follow. The fear coiling in his stomach began to subside. He’d been so afraid, yes, and in that fear he’d managed to find the strength and determination to save you. But now you were safe and he no longer needed to rely on that strength; he could give into his relief. Realizing this, realizing how frightened he’d been and how that was now part of a past he could move forward from, could truly forget, Kaeya could only marvel at his relief. Only then did the tears begin to fall.

 Ningguang

If there was one thing Ningguang wasn’t expecting out of today it was your leg collapsing and her winding up in the waiting room of the Liyue hospital, mind replaying the last week or so, wondering where she might’ve realized something was wrong.

It seemed like the kind of thing Keqing would make a joke about. Here Ningguang was, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing, the most powerful woman in the trade capital of Liyue; here she was, her world completely gone awry, completely shattered by your injury.

A stress fracture, the doctor had said. It was the kind of injury that developed slowly and came about after weeks instead of in moments. The initial strain was usually something mundane, a sprain, a bruise, maybe you’d walked on your foot for too long. But after sometimes weeks of ignoring pain and swelling your body couldn’t take it any longer. Ten weeks, that’s how long you would be laid up. And Ningguang couldn’t help but feel every one of those ten weeks was her fault.

She should’ve noticed it. That train of thought continued all throughout the process of you being treated at, and eventually discharged from, the hospital. You weren’t just one of the people she worked with daily, weren’t just her closest colleague. You were the person that Ningguang loved more than anything in this world. How could she possibly not have noticed the signs?

Ningguang found herself obsessively trying to connect the warning signs that must’ve been there. She knew that your foot had been aching for some time, but though she’d been vaguely concerned she’d said nothing other than a simple “be careful”. She’d never thought to check after you later, sure that it was nothing. Now she felt nothing but shame, both that of a personal and of a greater kind. How could she manage looking after all of Liyue if she couldn’t even look after you?

You noticed Ningguang’s silence as you two made your way out of the hospital and towards the apartment you shared. Although Ningguang was perhaps seen as a reticent individual you’d found her surprisingly open, always ready to discuss things that were of interest either to you or to her. She wasn’t the kind of person to walk along in silence; not when she was around those that she cared for, not unless she was thinking about something important, not unless…

Finally you two arrived home. You collapsed on the couch, tired and ready to either read or nap. Ningguang was preparing some tea and a various array of fruit, not that there was much food in the lavish apartment you two shared. Considering the workload between the both of you it was perhaps unsurprising that there was nothing much to eat. That would have to change, Ningguang noted; she’d make sure that you were recovering in the most comfortable way possible. It was the least she could do.

“Are you feeling well?” Ningguang asked, placing the food and tea on the table in your room. You nodded.

“I feel fine, although I’m not looking forward to the walk to the Qixing headquarters. I have to admit dear this might be the only time I’m a bit glad that I don’t have to make my way to the Jade Chamber every day.” Ningguang smiled at that, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She sat silently, sipping her tea slowly. Your expression clouded over. “Hey, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Oh it’s nothing my love.” Ningguang spoke up quickly, leaning over and kissing you on the cheek. “I’m just sorry to see you like this.”

“Well you can’t blame yourself. You know that, right?”

Ningguang found she couldn’t bring herself to lie to you. Your gaze, though soft, seemed to pierce right through all her excuses and all her bluffing. She sighed softly. Maybe it would be better to be upfront about it, clear and concise, how one should always be. At least then she could apologize properly.

“In truth I do blame myself. I can’t believe I was so neglectful of your health, so blind to your pain.” She shook her head, staring at the hand that was holding yours. A disconnected part of her thought of how well the two fit together, fingers intertwined softly, your palm warm and comforting.

“If you were blind to this then so was I.” You spoke softly but firmly, refusing to sugar coat your words. Ningguang admired you for it, even if she didn’t believe you, something painfully clear in the expression on her face. “You cannot blame yourself.” You continued, “I won’t let you. I don’t want you beating yourself up for something that neither of us predicted. If you feel the need to blame yourself for this you must also blame me; I was the one walking on the injury without paying enough attention.”

“But – ” Ningguang paused, realizing the truth behind your words, slouching slightly she sat in deep thought. “I… I realize there’s not a lot of logic behind my thinking.”

“Well feelings are hardly logical.” You pointed out, squeezing her hand. “And because they’re illogical they don’t go away quickly. But I at least want you to try and combat your guilt with what I’ve told you. Because just like you hate seeing me in this cast I hate seeing you in pain.”

Ningguang nodded, heart filled with a deep sense of love and tenderness. Leaning over to give you a kiss she smiled softly. You did too. For a moment you two basked in each other’s presence and happiness, before you smile turned mischievous.

“Although… I won’t object to a little pampering.” Ningguang chuckled, shaking her head. But her smile was real this time, and you wouldn’t ask for anything more.

“You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“I know I am.” You replied. “And you’re lucky I adore you.”

“I am.” Ningguang’s reply was just as sure, was full of quiet but strong emotion. She was lucky. And she would never take you or your love for granted. No matter what.

 Xiao

By the time he’d met you Xiao had long come to the conclusion that he’d never find it in him to like humans.

Humans were dirty, they were untrustworthy and full of darkness, they broke things without thinking about it, mangled their own people, their own families and friends and countrymen. Humans slaughtered one another without thinking of how it might stain them, and when they weren’t killing they were stealing and lying and ruining the land around them. How could he, a being designed solely to destroy the darkness in the world, ever find in himself the will or the ability to look past all that?

When he’d met you and had fallen in love in earnest this view had still changed ultimately very little. But even if you’d admitted that what he said was mostly true, you’d found that you still wanted him to learn to care at least a little bit about humanity. I mean you were ultimately one of them at your core. It didn’t feel right to prop yourself up as the one great exception, not when there were other people who were certainly like you in mind and in morality. Xiao silently disagreed with this analysis; to him there never was and never would be someone like you, in all of Teyvat. Still, he felt compelled to try, though  more for your sake than for his, and as the weeks had gone on he’d begun to look at humanity not with any sort of respect or hope but with a sort of begrudging curiosity, and an admittance that maybe, just maybe, there was a bit of that light you saw in it.

What a fool he’d been.

Although Xiao was aware of the growing threat of treasure hoarders across Liyue – so widespread that they’d even managed to eat away at the tranquil lands surrounding Jueyen Karst – he’d never considered them a serious threat. So when the two of you accidentally ran into a group of them while exploring some of the older Liyue ruins Xiao didn’t bother to do much more than wrap an arm around your waist, sure that even the most idiotic of treasure hoarders wouldn’t be so foolish as to pick a fight with either an adeptus or their beloved. You seemed unfazed at any rate, explaining that the two of you were simply passing by and had no desire to pick a fight; if they’d be so kind the two of you would be on your way.

Perhaps the treasure hoarders were well aware of the fact that you could report them to the Liyue Qixing. Perhaps they were simply in a bad mood. Either way your words apparently did nothing. Xiao was becoming tenser and tenser, feeling as if something catastrophic was about to happen. That moment came to pass when one of the treasure hoarders pulled out a knife and threw it, lodging itself with deadly accuracy into your torso.

At that point Xiao felt himself overcome with a supernatural sort of calm, a calm which raced to cover up the anguish and rage that was coursing through him, threatening to burn him from the inside out. He only paused to make sure you didn’t hit the ground hard, before summoning his spear. Ignoring the cries of the treasure hoarders he made quick work of disposing of them, for what was a measly human, a piece of trash, when compared to that which had slayed countless demons? A small part of him cried out against the act, pointing out the fact that every time he wielded his polearm to kill it might bring him closer to the precipice, the fact that you were hurt mattered more than revenge, the fact that he was going to regret killing in front of you. He ignored it. At that moment there was nothing in his mind, it was as empty and staid as a clear pool of water. The only ripple in it was the way you’d jolted back in surprised, and the way you’d let out a cry before crumpling.

Xiao didn’t look back to see the havoc he’d wreaked. Instead he ran to your side. Peeling off his gloves, worried that they might bring infection, he pressed his bare hands to your wound, desperately trying to staunch the blood that was spilling out, ignoring the shocks that jolted through his hands, the result of the dagger somehow being infused with electro. The feeling of blood, your blood, beneath his fingers was nauseating, and for a moment Xiao felt his head filling with static as the pure panic that he’d felt began to overcome the initial rush of adrenaline. Snapping out of it when you let out a groan of pain Xiao looked into your eyes. They were clouded, and for a moment the adeptus was afraid you might be on the verge of passing out – had you really lost so much blood? Holding you tightly, one hand never leaving your wound, Xiao summoned a burst of air. His thoughts were still too chaotic to be processed, there was only one thing connecting them all. Let them live. If there’s any justice in this world, please let them live.

Verr Goldet had grasped the situation as soon as she saw Xiao appear on the balcony, face contorted in fear. Taking you to her room, she’d instructed Xiao to get one of the doctors from Liyue while she and the resident apothecary took care of you. Xiao did the task without thinking, and once he’d arrived with the doctor he refused to leave your side. Xiao knew death better than most adepti, certainly more than most humans. It was cold and unfeeling, and had a nasty habit of leaping onto people when they least expected it. It didn’t matter to him that all three, Goldet, the apothecary, and the doctor, said that you would be fine; Xiao was going to be there the entire time.

Eventually you managed to rouse yourself from the pain induced stupor, and when you did you saw Xiao first, eyes wide with fear and relief, tears threatening to spill down his face.

In the end you’d been lucky. Although the dagger had ruptured your spleen Xiao had acted quickly enough to avert catastrophe. You were going to survive, though it’d be 12 weeks most likely until you were completely recovered. The moment of crisis having passed the two of you were finally given a moment alone.

“Are you alright?” Xiao immediately asked. You didn’t make a move to answer, instead cupping Xiao’s cheek before moving to take his hand. At that moment how Xiao remembered. Oh; the blood. Quickly moving away he ran to the nearest basin of water, scrubbing furiously. As the water turned red a faint smell of iron filled the air; it was the most disgusting thing Xiao had ever smelt, and he scrubbed even harder. You waited silently as he finished cleaning his hands and disposing of the water. Finally he came back to sit next to you, still hesitating a moment before placing his palm in yours.

“I… I don’t understand how you could ever like humans.” That was the first thing Xiao could think of. “They betrayed you. Without even blinking. That man, all those men and women, they would’ve ended your life without even thinking about it. They would’ve killed you and lived without ever having such a thing weigh on their conscience. Humans never think about the weight of their sins. They just keep committing atrocities.”

“And what about you, Xiao. Will their deaths weigh on you?”

“As much as all the others.” Xiao wished he could be matter of fact about it, but he found that trait of his had somehow disappeared. Instead an emotion washed over him, so unfamiliar and unexplainable it seemed to choke him. “Perhaps more.” He managed to get out, before beginning to cry in earnest.

You would’ve died. If he hadn’t been there you would’ve died. For you he gladly shouldered the weight of human life, would do so again and again if only to ensure your safety. And yet it was such a heavy weight, and no matter how many Xiao killed it wouldn’t heal you.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out. You shook your head.

“Xiao I always knew that you weren’t going to be able to see humans as I see them immediately. And I know that you have a relationship with death and killing that most humans, most beings, will never have. I’m not going to blame you, nor will I turn on you. I cannot pretend that what happened didn’t make me angry. In retrospect it made me incredibly angry. It’s also true that – had you not been there – I would’ve raised my own weapon in self-defense. But now I’m going to ask you for one thing, and one thing only.”

“What?”

“Help me recover. Help me recover and let me help you recover. If there’s one thing I don’t want to happen now it’s for you to turn away from me and from everyone else, to let yourself be consumed. I want you to have somewhere you can let your feelings exist, and I want somewhere I can feel happy and comfortable as myself. You make me feel that way, so even if it’s selfish I don’t want you to turn away. And I don’t want you to grieve for me. Injured as I may be I’m not dead.” There was a pause as you let yourself catch your breath, having gotten more and more excited as you went on. “I realize that’s more than one thing.” You concluded, a bit sheepish.

Xiao said nothing for a while before leaning towards you. “May I?” He whispered. You nodded and Xiao pressed his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t one of fire or passion. It was different, defined within the parameters of fear and relief, there seemed to be a sort of desperation in it, yet it was surprisingly sedate. Pulling away Xiao buried his face in your neck, careful to make sure he wasn’t touching where you’d been stabbed.

“I will. I promise.” He whispered. You nodded, smiling softly. But Xiao couldn’t bring himself to smile, not just yet.

Xiao couldn’t understand humans. They were dirty and cruel and lived without fear of consequences. Their actions haunted him and he found them easier to hate than to understand. But for you he’d try, because to him there was one thing strong than all, strong than fear, stronger than mistrust, stronger than hatred.

And that was the love he held for you.

 Zhongli

If there was one thing Zhongli hadn’t been prepared for when it came to falling in love with humans it was their combination of fragility and utter ignorance to said fragility.

One of Zhongli’s favorite things to do was to simply sit and listen to you talk about your life. Humans fascinated Zhongli, it was one of the reasons he’d ultimately given up his place as Rex Lapis; inside him lived a desire to interact with humanity in a more intimate way, to know what made people behave as they did and to perhaps grow closer to them in the process.

But despite all that he still wasn’t ready for the utter fear he felt when listening to the stories of you getting hurt. You’d laughed off scrapes and bruises and fractures. The time you’d accidentally ripped off your nail was a painful yet funny anecdote, and the fact that you’d fractured your kneecap as a child was something you now looked back on with an odd sense of nostalgia.

Zhongli didn’t understand why these stories frightened him on such a visceral level. Such injuries were nothing to gods and adepti. Although the idea of a broken bone was certainly an irritation there was nothing more in it, and the kind of injuries that could easily kill humans would to Zhongli be the kind of thing that would be unpleasant for its novelty, not for its potential fatality.

He didn’t bring up these thoughts to you, feeling as if they’d somehow place an undue burden on you, or perhaps he was afraid you’d stop telling him about yourself. Still it lurked at the back of his mind, the fear of what might happen to you.

The fears that Zhongli harbored were proven in the most mundane, and thus most poignant, way. The two of you had been preparing a meal when suddenly you’d stumbled on an uneven part of the floor. Reaching your hands out to steady yourself your arm had landed flat on the hot stove, the stove which had been heating up for the past fifteen or so minutes. The scream that you let out sent a shock through Zhongli which shook him to his core. It rang through his ears incessantly, a terrifying reminder of how breakable humans were.

You’d immediately yanked your arm off from the stove but the sight that met both his and your eyes was a ghastly one. The skin on your arm was charred various colors, white blisters mixed with black flaky skin, all outlined in a terrible circle of red. You were shaking, and you face had turned a frightful ashen color. Springing into action Zhongli wracked his brain for all he could remember about burns. If the burn is serious enough go to the hospital. Never try to treat intense burns yourself as the burning has gone deeper than the initial layer of skin, raise your burn above your heart. Go to the hospital. Slinging your arm around his shoulder so that it was raised, whisper soft words of reassurance as you let out a shriek of pain, Zhongli half walked half carried you to the hospital, all while the same thought was running through his head.

How fragile humans are.

The doctors had insisted you stay overnight. Apparently the burn was bad enough to require surgery. Zhongli’s stomach had dropped as he was told that, but he managed to nod in response. Walking back home Zhongli felt all in a daze. He barely made it in the door before he collapsed, fear having seeped the energy out of him. The world pressed down on him, heavier than it’d ever been before. At least you’d be okay, he reminded himself. If he had anything to cling to at least he had that.

Zhongli was the first visitor to arrive at the hospital, having given Hu Tao the run of the funeral home as he spent as much time as possible with you. You were well enough, although a bit bogged down from the painkillers you’d been given. You’d once offhandedly commented that although magic infused medicine tended to be safer for the patient – more successful and less addictive – it was also more powerful; now Zhongli could see you weren’t kidding.

Your burn was wrapped up carefully, the doctors had managed to take the charred skin of, you’d explain, but now the burn had to be treated with the utmost care until the surgery later in the afternoon, infection was no joke.

“Well this’ll certainly be an interesting anecdote.” You let out half a laugh. “Not that I’m happy this happened, but at least this will shut up the next person who complains about how cardio was the most painful thing they’ve experienced.”

“I don’t know how you can be so cavalier about it.” Zhongli replied, tone soft and introspective. “It seems to terrifying to me, how easily humans are hurt.”

“Hey, I’ll be fine.” You assured him, voice soft but firm. “I understand how to adepti and archons and gods this might be terrifying. I’d be the first to admit we can’t really keep up with you in terms of pure healing and resistance to injury. But we’ve continued on this far haven’t we?” You smiled softly. “I promise I’m not about to die from something like a kitchen accident.”

“But what if next time it’s not your arm?” Zhongli replied. “What if it’s your neck or your chest? What if you cut yourself too deeply, what if your cut becomes infected. There are so many things I haven’t thought about until now, so many things that could hurt you. It frightens me terribly.”

“I’m very grateful that you’re worrying for me like this. But Zhongli?” You waited for his eyes to meet yours, smiling once more when he faced you. “You cannot be consumed by your anxiety. Believe me humans worry about these kinds of things. What if I tripped and fell and broke my neck, what if I scratched myself and developed and infection, what if I choked on an apple? These fears live with us, sometimes constantly, but we cannot let them consume us. As much as I’m flattered and glad you care for my wellbeing so much, I also don’t want you consumed by it, nor do I want to be treated like glass.”

“I cannot understand how you’re so resilient.” Zhongli replied after a short pause. You shrugged.

“We are because we must be.”

Zhongli knew in his heart that these fears he harbored weren’t going to go away. He knew that they were going to become more and more apparent through the month of your initial recovery, and through the longer period too as scar tissue formed and subsided.

Humans were indeed fragile. But if there was one thing stronger than said fragility it was their even greater determination to supersede it. Humans may be fragile in body, but they were stronger in spirit even than the gods.

That was something Zhongli wasn’t going to forget. Not for a very long time.

[kezibun]

Heya! :3 Saw your sweet Skeleboy Date Idea and would ask for Axe if you´re still open for it! :D Fall Season, raining/Thunderstorm maybe? Daytime should be Sunset or Night, Dinner, Your House/Garden and let it be romantic :3 I love your little Storys hehe

Axe With Thunder and Food.

You hear a little knock on the door so you turn the pan, you were keeping warm, off and head over to answer it.

You open the door and there he stands, your boyfriend, Axe, axe-identally looming over you as usual, because of his height. A dopey grin across his face, an arm full of snacks and a small bouquet tucked away in his hand. He's dressed in a smart casual way, possibly caught by his brother before leaving, his classic beanie hiding his unfortunate injury, his single red eyelight soft and focused on what he surely perceives as your rather small frame.

"Hey Sansy, come on in." You chime, stepping aside to let him in.

"Thanks sweet pea." Axe replies as he ducks under the doorframe to step in. "I brought some snacks." He dumps said snacks on the coffee table. He always brings you a haul of snacks when he visits, and now he even remembers all your favourites, how sweet.

"And." He holds the mini bouquet out to you. "Tada." 

What a lovable dork.

"Thank you so much dear." You send him a sweet smile as you accept his gifts. That's when you notice the orange leaf stuck to his beanie.

"Oh let me just." You rest a hand on his shoulder and reach up, on your tiptoes snagging the little leaf. "There, I couldn't leaf that there now could I?" You show him what you found on his head with a giggle. 

Axe chuckles his cheekbones a soft midnight blue. He then plants a little kiss on your forehead, and pulls you in for a hug. 

"Thanks." He mumbles. "You know... you look really pretty."

Now it was your turn to blush. 

"Oh damn, something smells good." He purrs, sniffing at the air.

"That should be dinner, come on you big Teddy bear, let me show you to your table."  

You lead him out to the garden, it's a little duller now then when you set everything up out here, oh well, what's the worst that could happen? at least it's still fairly warm.

Axe takes a seat and sends you another one of his adorable smiles.

"I'll be right back." You wave the bouquet in hand as you head in. 

You quickly find something as a vase, filling it with water and setting the flowers in it, bringing them out.

"Perfect." You set them on the table, the little flash of colour bringing the whole set up together. "Ok I'll fetch dinner now." You turn around to head back in.

"Wait." Axe says.

You stop in your tracks. 

"I… I just wanted to say." Axe mumbles. "You look really nice today, sugar cookie." 

You blush yet again and press a kiss to his cheekbone. "You look nice too, sweetie." 

You then head back in and serve dinner as nicely as you can, you place a big plate of food in front of Axe and pour drinks before you sit down with your own food before you.

"Bon Appetit."  You chime.

The two of you dig in, casual chatting as you start your meal.

"Stars is this good sweetie pie."

"It's nothing really, but thank you." You sing in reply.

The scent of the food compliments that classic earthy, sweet smell of autumn, not to mention the soft perfume of the flowers. 

But the air feels slightly tight and almost thick, the leaves in the trees are still as stone, it's warm and despite being relaxed it feels somewhat tense. 

That's when a drop of water lands on your nose, followed by more droplets as the heavens begin to open. 

Axe stops. You both look at each other. The sprinkling of rain was sure to get heavier. You both grab all you can. You rush inside. 

Your hair damp, his hat darkened by rain but thank the stars your food didn't get spoiled. 

You look out the window as the rain gets heavier and heavier, hammering against the glass. The sky grows only darker by the second. 

A crash of light is followed by a roar of thunder. 

"Shoot."

Glad you got in quick. 

"There we go." Axe chimes, while you were distracted he set the table.

"Oh I'm sorry, I should have-"

"It's no problem, puddin'." He cuts you off.

"Thank you." You reply.

An idea then pops into your head. "I know just the thing to make this perfect." You light a candle setting it on the table too, it lights the slightly dark room aglow in a warm orange hue. 

"Perfect." Axe smiles. 

The storm almost feels like it's faded into the background as you both enjoy finishing your meal together. 

"Hey dear, want to watch a movie after this?" 

"Sure, I'd love that, sugar plum." 

You finish off this night snuggled on the couch, munching the snacks Axe brought, as you watch a movie together, unbothered by the storm outside, until the electricity cut out halfway through, that is.

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

I'm glad you like my stories and I really hope you enjoyed this one uwu

More choose a date fics.

A little bonus headcanon, although Axe isn't keen on having a nickname (compared to sans who kept his name) he loves throwing pet names around with his S/O, especially since he knows he can just call you whatever he finds nice (read tasty) and you'll reply, although your name is imprinted on his soul it puts his mind and failing memory at ease. It takes him a while and a dedicated partner to get this far and comfortable in a relationship though.

[arcadejohn127-9]

Helloooooo I love your work so much. How would the brothers and undatables react to Micheal taking MC as a hostage because they want they want something from Diavolo.

Are you the same anon from before? 👀 People really like villian Michael and I'm here for it

Do I love the idea of a darker obey me? Yes, if the game was a higher age rating it would just be

Let's get into it

Warning: angst, kidnapping and blackmail

To see you alone was a blessing. You were normally swarmed by people all wanting your attention. How remarkable.

Michael watched you walk carefree down the streets of the Devildom, you were humming a tone he was not familiar with. Why were you alone? That was only a question you could answer but he didn't need the answer. He just saw this as an opportunity.

"it's been so long since we've seen each other."

"huh-? Who are- Michael? What are you doing here?"

You looked around, clutching the strap of your bag. You couldn't see him which only made you feel more uneasy. Your eyes scanned the street in hopes you'll find him but there wasn't a single person in sight.

It was work hour; Everyone was free off the streets meaning it was safe for you to walk outside without an escort. You're starting to now regret this freedom.

"just visiting, we've never formally met, have we? I'm not far up ahead - let's meet face to face, shall we?"

There was an alleyway up ahead. You weren't a fool - you were polite but not a fool. Human world, demon world, angel world - whatever world. There was no way you're following a voice to an alleyway when there's no one around. You could be hearing one of your friends voices and you'd still leg it the other way.

"I'm not sure about that....I should be getting back to the dorm."

"fine, but let's atleast say goodbye."

You nodded with a quick bye, believing that he would see. You quickly turned on your heel ready to run back to the dorm but you suddenly felt something wrap around your wrist.

You tried to turn. your vision went black. A hand was covering your eyes whilst you thrashed against their grasp. Your voice was lost as you the world around began to spin. The darkness only caving in quicker.

The next moment you suddenly sprung up. You tried to scream but there was something shoved in your mouth; it made your jaw ache as you tried to yank your hands away from the restraints. You were atleast thankful you could see but less thankful you couldn't remember how to escape being kidnapped. All those tutorials and videos just washed out of your brain due to pure mindless fear.

"Ah~! Diavolo it's lovely to see you! I was getting concerned this wouldn't turn on, you've stolen something that belongs me and I want it back - give me the relic in your father's tomb or-"

You stared as Michael began approaching, eyes flickering back to the screen. Michael was suddenly grasping your face, tugging it closer to him. Making sure you could be seen in the screen.

"say goodbye to your key to peace! I'm sure (Y/N) would agree their life is far more important than some relic."

You could just about make out for friends and you began screaming, shaking your head furiously.

Whatever Michael wanted you weren't going to claim it higher than your life. Is it stupid? Yes but without knowing the price of this sacrifice you didn't want to cause a doomsday. If it's worth kidnapping you for and being locked away in the old kings tomb; it wasn't going to be something simple and nice like a vase.

"As an angel I'll be merciful to you, you have until sundown in the human world, I'll be happy to keep little (Y/N) company~"

He grabbed your shoulders, grinning. You weren't sure what he was going to do to you. Was he going to hurt you? How long was it until sundown? All these questions made your head hurt, trying to hold back your tears as you kept shaking your head.

The screen suddenly turned off and you were left alone with the angel. Your body froze as you heard him laugh. You let out a whimper, crying as he circled around you.

Lucifer:

"My Lord, you can't give him that relic - it'll tear a hole into the realms-!"

But he knew apart of him wanted to say 'screw the three realms'

Mammon:

He just wanted you to be safe

Would he be safe if Michael holds the relic? No, you'd be in more danger

"It's 2 hours until sundown, his mercy is a joke, we need to do something now."

Everyone grew more restless as they tried to think of a plan

Lucifer looked back at the screen, hoping he could see what Michael was doing to you but there was nothing

He had to get you back!

"whatever he's asking for better be important or else you better hand it over, I ain't letting him keep his hands on them!"

He's furious

He didn't follow you out one time and now you've been kidnapped!

Levithan:

He wanted to desperately get you back home

Lucifer gripped his shoulder, telling him to calm down but he only frowned

"I can't- you assigned me to look after them and now they're who knows where! Do we even know where Michael took 'em?!"

Everyone froze for a moment

Realizing, there was no destination, no clues, no way to call Michael back

Their two hours needed to be spent wisely

"This is just like one of my games....BUT WORSE! what's the relic?! There's no way it could be more important than (Y/N)-"

You were the kidnapped royalty and he was going to be the determined Plummer

Satan:

Seeing how scared you look made his mind blur, just thinking of how to get you back

But Lucifer answered his question

It could rip holes into the realms

Michael was the final bad guy and he wasn't sure if he was strong enough to beat him

"What if this all a set up? What If he's already hurt them or kil- got rid of them, what are we going to do?"

"He couldn't possibly want- Prince Diavolo you're going to get (Y/N) back but if he gets that relic we're all good as dead."

He wanted nothing more to just get you back but he understood the risk

He was already planning a way to get you back

Asmodeus:

A sike on the relic - they get you back and Michael doesn't get it

But the question remained - where were you

He couldn't recognize the room but it was light up naturally

Wait-

"if it's 2 hours to sundown it would not be that bright if it's the human realm but he's basing it off one part of the planets time zone - the only other option could be the celestial realm, it's always daytime there."

The others looked at him stunned

He mewled over his thoughts, pacing back and fourth as he tried to figure out where you were

"What are we going to do?! When I said I'd love to see them tied up this isn't what I meant-! We have to get them back, can't we just get him a fake?!"

He was panicking

He could gather the relic was of high importance of Michael was going to go this far

Beezlebub:

But at the risk of you getting hurt or Michael doing something to you if they're not quick enough?!

Levi asked him to repeat himself, he immediately got grouchy and complained about his brother not listening

"we should get a fake, how is he going to know the difference unless he immediately uses it but we're faster than angels and stronger."

Belphegor piped in, reminding him angels are more advanced in weapons and magic

They all were starting to lose hope

Determined still but knowing the time limit and being unable to think of a full plan was getting to them

"You better figure out a plan or I'll go get (Y/N) myself, I'm not waiting for you to decide."

A threat to the prince?

Beezlebub knew that was risky but not getting you back was worse

Belphegor:

If he had to rely on himself to get this done then it'll be done

"That looked like Michaels training spot, if it's in the celestial realm then that's the safest space for him."

"If Michael wants to play like that I say we do the same for that relic, threaten to destroy it if he doesn't give back (Y/N)."

He was like his twin

Ready to get you by himself if he had to, no matter what

His sin wasn't going to hold him back this time

UNDATEABLES↓

He will get you back

Mammon snapped at him, reminding Michael wasn't fair and could of already done something to you

Or fake giving you back

"I'm not lazing around whilst (Y/N) could be getting tortured! Beel got an area and I say we go there and force him to give back (Y/N)."

Barbatos hummed, deciding to remain silent as he watched them think

Belphegor tried to force back a yawn but more kept coming

Diavolo:

"Please, understand this is a difficult situation - I want them back just as much as you all do but this has gotten bigger than some simple scheme."

He was devastated; you were in this situation because of him

He couldn't just let you sit there tied up with Michael

But that relic in his hands could reverse everything he's worked for

Barbatos:

What's even worse you could be hurt

"The brothers cant enter the celestial realm, that would be why he choice it - then only me and barbatos could do it."

It seems hope was completely completely lost

He had faith him and barbatos could save you but he couldn't just leave them waiting in the Devildom

He needed other people to help incase things went terrible

"If it'll put you all at ease, I have a solution but all of you need to listen closely and follow this perfectly."

The plan was to have the twins go together, have Solomon make a replica of both the key and the relic

+bonus chatacter

Diavolo face Michael 'alone' while the rest of them get ready to grab you and attack if things go south

Simeon would come with Diavolo to put the other angels at ease

"But for the brother's to enter I need to be able to use my powers properly, I'll reverse time on their body's but not their minds - it's a difficult spell but I can do it."

After all their angel forms were happily accepted and loved

But who they are currently were not

Michael:

"I'm glad you've decided to be reliable, I'm sure you're aware of the angels positioned outside, they're ready to fire as soon as you try anything."

He pointed to the openings, shining arrows aiming at the demon prince

He was prepared to stop his plan failing

But his disadvantage was undermining how much these demons needed you

Diavolo held the fake relic

You begged him not to; whilst with Michael he told you all about his plan, detailing how he was going to eliminate all humans and lesser demons

Diavolo demanded for you back but Michael just shook his head

"Relic first then the human."

and the trade was complete, Diavolo held you close to his chest

Michael twisted the egg shaped relic but screamed when he realized it was a fake

He ordered the angels to fire but they all aimed at him

He was struck down, the demon brother's replacing his archers

Diavolo handed you over to the brother's, they hugged you and fretted over your tattered state

"Take them....me and Michael have alot to talk about."

[pacifymebby]

Pls can you do a HC for the lads looking after you when you’re scared like after you’ve watched a scary movie and can’t sleep 😘🥰❤️

Van

💮 teases you and calls you a baby for being scared

💮 is secretly just as scared as you

💮 glad you can't sleep because he gets to play the hero and cuddle you and isn't alone feeling scared of the dark himself

💮 definitely enjoys winding you up saying things like "wait, what was that... did you hear that too?"

💮 tells you not to worry cause he's there, he can protect you from anything

Bondy

💮 It was definitely his idea to watch a scary movie, only managed to convince you to watch it with him by telling you its not that scary and you can watch it in the daytime. 

💮 puts something funny on afterwards to distract you

💮 jokes about the film to make it less scary, points out all the dumb and ridiculous things that happened

💮 probably tells you you're much to smart to get killed off in a horror film, says you’d be the sexy final girl

💮 distracts you with sex then reminds you that if you have sex in a horror film you die.

Benji

💮 Is honestly surprised you're scared by it because you guys usually laugh at this kind of shit. 

💮 teases you at first but when he realises how scared you are he feels bad and is super sweet to you

💮 Won't let you sleep with the light on but will sit up stroking your hair and stuff until you're asleep. 

💮 Puts on of his earphones in your ears and plays Pokemon music till you fall asleep

💮 If all else fails he will stay up with you all night.

Bob

💮 "Why did we choose to watch this again?"

💮 Is more scared than you when the movies on but afterwards you're the one who is more scared. He's only tense when he's watching it. You're jumpy for hours afterwards.

💮 Sits and dissects the plot and all the kills until he's completely pulled apart the whole film. Points out all the things that wouldn't really happen. Points out all the ways the victim could have escaped and been fine. 

💮 When it comes to going to sleep he already knows you're gonna be a big wuss about it so is already prepared to be up a long time whilst you jump at any and every noise. Every time you ask "did you hear that," he sighs, "yes, it was the radiators, yes it was next door, yes it was the wind..." 

💮 Too smart to be scared, tells you you're too smart to be scared too. Hugs and kisses and is very soft with you but "cmon y/n, you know it's not a zombie apocalypse outside...why would there be one lone zombie stumbling around the house...." or "people only get murdered by people they know... is your brother Norman bates? no..."

Sam

💮 The softest and sweetest boy but also a complete shit about it. Looks after you and comforts you but makes sure you know how daft you're being. 

💮 "Oh aye cause everybody knows the duvet has often stopped a serial killer in his tracks," "yknow the whole if I can't see them they can't see me isn't actually true yeah love?" 

💮 Finds it all very amusing when you jump at sudden noises but is there to give you a cuddle and tell you not to be scared. 

💮 knows that if you don't fall asleep in his lap whilst you're watching the TV or something then you aren't going to fall asleep at all so even if you claim not to be that scared by the end of the day he's making sure you're cuddled up with him watching the sopranos or something until you fall asleep. 

💮 When you wake up in the middle of the night from a bad dream he opens his arms and pulls you up to sleep on his chest. Sleepy kisses and playing with your hair. 

💮 Definitely the "you don't need to be scared, daddy's gan protect you" type

[angryschnauzer]

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 2

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters/Pairing:  Vampire!Walter Marshall x Female Reader

Warnings (for this chapter); Talk of PTSD, Reader is ex police, Possible home invasion, NSFW sexy times, protected sex.

Previous Parts: Werewolf!Sy: Moonlight on the Sand  Castle Under The Stars.  Werewolf!Sy, Vampire!Walter: Chapter 1

This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters. The ‘reader’ for each story will be a ‘new’ reader, so its not the same woman being with all the male characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Chapter 2

Walter had managed to recover from the shock of seeing his best friend and his wife being able to make their eyes glow, and as unbelievable as it sounded, had accepted their explanations of how they’d been turned into Werewolves. Much like his own knowledge of Vampirism before he had been turned himself, he quickly understood that what the media made these quirks of nature to be and what they actually were had been greatly exaggerated. 

Sy had stayed up into the early hours of the morning with him, sharing the better part of a bottle of bourbon as he’d described how it affected their family, and how his wife only turned when her period coincided with a full moon, and how they dealt with childcare during the times that they would turn. 

-

Walter woke with a start, the soft mountain light pouring in the windows and for a moment he was confused, not recognising his surroundings until he remembered spending the rest of the night on Sy’s couch. His mouth felt like something had crawled inside and died, and he swore in that moment not to share hard liquor with someone that could howl at the moon. Finding some painkillers high in a kitchen cabinet he crushed two between his teeth before drinking straight from the tap. Standing tall he moved his neck, trying to get the kinks and knots out of his muscles when a pair of fluffy slippered feet appeared in the doorway. Looking up Walter poorly suppressed a laugh as he saw Sy wearing a pair of sheepskin moccasins and what was obviously his wife’s robe;

“Reginald, you look stunning” Walter muttered as he watched his friend shuffle into the kitchen

Sy held up his finger and waggled it, wincing at the sunlight pouring in the window;

“Don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t call me that, the only people that call me that are the preacher or my Ma, and unless you’re planning on marrying me or making me biscuits...”

Walter laughed, leaning against the counter as Sy filled the coffee pot as if he was on autopilot, before reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out a baby bottle with the previous day’s expressing date on. Setting the bottle to warm in a bowl of water he handed Walter a tin of coffee;

“Fill that up, i’m gonna go get Luna”

A few minutes later he reappeared holding his little girl in his arms, wrapped in a soft blanket covered in moons and stars. Grabbing the bottle before settling at the kitchen table, he popped the lid off and shook the bottle, before lifting it and shaking a few drops onto his tongue, laughing when he saw Walters eyes go a little wide;

“Better straight from the source but Mama is sleepin’ so its me in Mama’s robe” he explained with a grin on his face. Walter placed a mug of steaming black coffee in front of Sy; “Thanks man… hey, in the fridge there’s a pint of pigs blood from Walkers Meats… ya’know, if you need it”

“Why have you got pigs blood?”

“The missus was gonna make some Scottish thing, some sorta sausage, but if you need it, we can always get another… in fact she’s gonna be too tired to use it before it spoils, what with the full moon and all...”

Sy turned his attention to his tiny daughter feeding in his arms, giving Walter the sense of privacy to do what he needed to do. As Luna finished her bottle Sy held her to his shoulder, rubbing her back until she let out a burp he would have been proud of himself, only looking up when he heard Walter also let out a low belch;

“You need me to rub your back too Walt?”

“Fuck off Sy” the vampire said lightheartedly, a sense of relief in his mind now that the guy that had become one of his best friends knew his secret.

-

Pulling the last crate of bottles off the back of the pickup you thanked the guy from the craft brewery and waved him off, taking a deep breath before slowly climbing the fire escape at the back of the bar that led into the storeroom. It had been a long shift already, starting at 10am you’d opened up and started the ovens, restocked the bar as the cleaners had come through and cleaned the place top to bottom. Your boss was always decent to his staff, paying a good wage and having the cleaning crew come in during the closed daytime hours rather than in the early hours of the morning.

Working around them as they did their job, you restocked the caddy’s on the tables with silverware, napkins, and condiments, before returning to the bar and checking on the ice machine.

“Hey we’re all done now” one of the cleaners said as you looked up.

“That’s great, thanks. You guys always make this place look good”

Chatting with them you walked them through the storeroom - something your boss always insisted on that any non bar staff had to be escorted through - before one reached for the wooden rail on the fire escape. Something made you stop talking and before you could stop yourself, one hand was pushing one of the guys back into the storeroom, the other was grabbing the shirt that was already standing outside. Just as you did the rail slipped away, as if in slow motion, the three of you looking in fear as the heavy wood crashed twenty feet below onto the empty kegs that were stored beneath.

Speechless you stood there, fingers still curled around the shirt of one, hand splayed across the chest of the other;

“Fuck” you whispered quietly, not to anyone in particular.

“You could say that…”

-

Having made sure both cleaning guys were ok, if a little shaken up, you made them leave by the front door then considered your options. Dialling the boss you weren’t surprised to hear it ring out before going to voicemail. He had strict downtime rules, and was more than likely out on his ranch land taking care of his horses. Knowing he trusted you to make the right judgement, you scrolled through your numbers and dialled Marshall’s Property Maintenance;

“Marshall’s, what can i do for you?”

“Hi, i’m calling from Big G’s Sports Bar? We’ve just had the handrail fall off our fire escape. Wondering if you’ve got space to fix it this afternoon?”

There was a pause before you heard a long exhale of breath;

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in twenty minutes”

“Thanks Walter”

Hanging up you smiled. You’d worked with Walter when you’d been on the police force, you’d been a patrol cop that would assist with crime scene control and you’d been first on the scene for countless horrific acts of violence. One final call had given you PTSD so bad you’d resigned, finding a home in the small town of Blackwater Lake and a steady job at Big G’s Sports Bar. Your boss was the big quiet type, liked to spend more time out on his ranch with his horse, having enough trust in you to run the day to day operations of the bar as his assistant manager. 

-

It had been well past 9pm when Walter finished the repairs. Your boss had come in and helped him out when he’d got your text, leaving you in charge of the first few hours of opening. When the two men reappeared through the storeroom you smiled at them, getting ready for the evening handover before grabbing your coat and clocking off.

A few minutes later as you hopped off the last step of the fire escape onto the dandelion scattered gravel - your boss liked to let them grow - you smiled at Walter as he was loading his tools into his truck;

“Hey, thanks for today. Really saved our bacon… without the fire escape we wouldn’t be up to code so couldn’t have opened”

“S’ok. Glad you called” Walter admitted; “It’s been a while…”

Scuffing the gravel with your boot you swallowed the lump that was in your throat;

“How have you been? Since… ya know…”

“Alive. Wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t of been for you and your partner”

“We did what was needed… not every day you see va…” you stopped yourself, you still hadn’t completely come to terms with what you’d seen; “V...vagrants doing that… I’m just glad we got there in time…”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Walter rounded the truck and stood in front of you;

“Do you need a ride home? Your boss mentioned that you walk to work and you stayed late where he was helping me get this fixed”

“Thanks, that’d be nice”

-

Over the next few nights Walter would appear at the bar early evening, usually under the pretense of checking the work on the fire escape or dropping off the bill to the office, and you quickly clocked that he would always be leaving just as your shift was ending to conveniently give you a ride home. Not that you minded, the weather had turned unseasonably cool after the warmth of the parade weekend, so the casual conversation as he drove you home in the warmth of his giant truck was a good way to end the day. 

As he rolled into the parking lot behind your apartment complex you wondered if you should invite him in for a coffee, but weren’t sure if you were reading his intentions correctly. Gnawing on your lip you reached into your pocket for your keys, smiling at Walter as he pulled the truck to a stop;

“There we go, home sweet home. Have a good night”

“You too Walter”

Stepping out you smiled and gave him a little wave, knowing he waited until you had gotten into your building.

-

Watching you go Walter cursed himself. When Rachel had left he’d been in the dumps even more than usual, but over the last few days he’d taken a shine to you. He was pretty sure you had clued onto the fact that he had always turned up around the time of your shift finishing, but when he’d found out from Geralt that your car had died and you couldn’t afford to repair it, he didn’t like the thought of you walking home alone. Sure Blackwater Lake was a sleepy little town, but keeping in mind what lurked in the woods - both natural and supernatural - he felt better knowing you’d gotten home. He had been sure you were going to invite him in for coffee tonight, but he’d gotten butterflies in his stomach and had blurted out a farewell before you’d had the chance.

Looking up at your apartment he let out a sigh. 

Then… then something caught his eye. You hadn’t been in the building long enough for the shadow to be you, knowing you stopped to grab your mail each time you entered the building. Killing the engine he reached to the glove compartment for his gun - he still had a concealed carry permit - and raced to the building.

-

Juggling your mail and your purse, you held the letters in your mouth as you searched for the right key on your set when suddenly the sound of thundering footsteps made you spin around, your jaw dropping when you saw Walter appear from the staircase and running to your side. His hand was on your arm and he was pulling you to the side of your door before holding you to his chest;

“There’s someone in your apartment”

“What? No, i locked everything before i left… and there’s no sign of any damage to the door…”

Letting you go he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled for the sheriff, but as you listened in you could hear the volunteer dispatcher explain that both the Sheriff and the two deputies were out on the highway dealing with an 18 wheeler logging truck that had spun off on a bend. Walter cursed under his breath and hung up;

“Do you still carry?”

“No… not since…”

“Ok. Unlock the door and stay behind me”

The next minute seemed to last both seconds and hours, following Walter through your apartment until he silently pushed the bedroom door open with his gun;

“Freeze!”

The shape in the darkness didn’t move, and when you peered over Walters extended arm and you realised what he was looking at, you let out a sigh and flipped the lightswitch, the ‘threat’ suddenly illuminated and Walters shoulders dropping;

“Oh…”

Your spare uniform shirt was hanging on the frame to the window where you’d hung it earlier in the day so the sunshine would dry it. You let out a deep breath and laughed, resting your forehead against Walters shoulder;

“It’s just my uniform…” you hadn’t realised your voice was shaking until Walter turned and wrapped his arms around you

“I’m sorry i scared you”

Burying your face in the warmth of his sweater, your voice was muffled as you spoke;

“Its ok. I’d rather you have seen the mess in my apartment and saved me from an intruder than the alternative…” you smiled weakly at him, and it was then that the tension in the room was like static before a storm. Like the first lightning strike, when Walters lips touched yours it was as if electricity coursed through your veins, the kiss hungry and needy, contact between two touch starved people needing that connection. Your fingers curled in threads of his knitwear, pulling yourself closer as his arms wrapped around you and his hands splayed out over your ass, squeezing handfuls of flesh so he could pull you flush against his body. The kiss deepend and his tongue sought entrance between your lips which you eagerly granted. He tasted of coffee and peanut butter chocolate, and when he pulled away you were both gasping for breath.

“So, vampires do need oxygen then?”

“How do you…? How are you not scared?”

“Because i was there when it happened. And I've seen you hundreds of times since. I’ve seen you in the mirror, I've seen you outside in the sunshine, i’ve literally served you garlic bread…” you paused; “And i didn’t need to invite you in. Whatever myths are linked to your condition, i know the Walter behind them, i know the quiet and controlled Walter that assesses a situation and ensures everyone is safe…” you paused; “Because I know i’m safe with you”

Walter opened his mouth to speak, but the lump in his throat caught the words. Closing his eyes he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky breath as you gently held his face in your palms, your thumbs softly caressing the skin of his cheeks where his beard ended. You pressed your lips to his, and this kiss was different, this kiss was full of passion, of acceptance and the growing need that was blooming. 

Clothes were scattered as fingers and lips found each new patch of exposed skin, running your fingernails down his massive chest as you both fell to the bed, your fingers curling in the coarse hair that covered his chest before clutching at his belt as his teeth sharply ran over the line of your collarbone and you let out a gasp;

“More…”

“I… I’m not going to bite you…”

“I don’t want you to, but my neck is super sensitive, it's like my biggest turn on…”

At that moment Walter could feel the change, his eyes paling and his fangs growing more prominent as you watched from below him, but what he wasn’t expected was the groans that escaped your throat and the way your body shook;

“Did you just…?” he cocked an eyebrow, he already knew you’d just cum, but he wanted you to admit it.

“Yes, fuck yes, now i need more…”

With a growl he ducked his head down and peppered sharp kisses over your neck, hands working on each others jeans before you were able to kick them off. Your hands ducked into Walters pants and you grasped at his hard length, hot in your palm through his underwear;

“Oh fuck, you’re big…”

“Don’t worry, i’ll go slow… do you… do you have protection?”

“In the drawer”

He reluctantly pulled himself off the bed, and you propped yourself up on your elbows as he searched out the condoms, pulling the box out and swinging something else from his fingertips;

“These aren’t regulation edition”

The pink fluffy handcuffs had been a present a long time ago, and had somehow moved apartments with you;

“Next time…” you reached and grabbed them from him, tossing them aside before grabbing the box and a small foil packet, ripping it open with your teeth as Walter quickly shed himself of his boots and jeans, his dark boxers discarded as you reached for him and smoothed the latex over his fat dick.

He smoothed his hands down your legs, before tugging you down the bed and flipping you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up until your ass was in the air. The rough brush of his beard against your soft inner thighs was quickly soothed by his tongue swiping a firm lick through your soaked folds. He took hold of your hips and you felt him move into position, the firm nudge at your entrance before with a low groan he speared you with the slow stretch of his girth.

“You feel so fucking good… so tight…”

Your fingers curled into the bedsheets and your jaw hung open, the sheer pleasure that was coursing through your veins felt like an elixir as Walter hammered into your tight velvet channel. The carnal slap of flesh on flesh resonating around the room, only joined by the breathless pants escaping your lips and the grunts Walter would let slip as he sought pleasure in your body with his own. He splayed his fingers over your back, running the palm of his hand up your spine until he was able to cup your neck and pull you up, flush with his heated body. His sharp teeth scraped over your neck, his beard rough against the etched skin;

“Look in the mirror. See how amazing you look”

Focusing your attention on the dresser mirror that stood in the corner, you watched as Walter continued to slowly rock his hips, fucking you slow and hard from behind. But it was his eyes that drew your attention, icy pools of white with deep obsidian pupils piercing the tundra, and the flash of danger from his sharp teeth at your neck, just catching on the skin as he spoke;

“You’re so fucking beautiful, dunno what i did to deserve you… will you cum for me?” he slid his hand down your stomach and in the patch of curls at the apex of your thighs, seeking out the sensitive pearl of your clit and rubbing the pad of his finger over it in firm circles; “Will you cum for me?” he repeated, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust of his hips.

“Yes… Walter, please…”

“What do you need…”

“My neck, please…”

Walter knew he couldn’t bite you, there were so many unknowns he’d never explored, but he closed his eyes and focused his energies on bringing you to completion. Thrusting his hips in time to the movement of his hand, whilst sucking a hickey onto your neck, knowing his teeth were rubbing against the skin but not breaking it. The triple stimuli sent you over the edge, your head rolling back onto his shoulder and your mouth open in a silent scream as you came so hard you saw stars, shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as your walls gripped Walter tight, before with one final thrust you heard him growl as he came hard.

He held you for the longest time, your heart racing in your chest as echoes of your orgasm ricocheted through your body. As Walter started to soften you felt him hold the condom at the base of his shaft as he pulled out gently;

“Err… bathroom?”

“Just through there” you nodded to the door off of the bedroom as you fell to the bed, laying back with a smile on your face.

A few moments later he reappeared with a warm washcloth, first soothing your neck before tenderly attending to the mess between your thighs. After putting it back in the bathroom he appeared at the side of the bed, reaching for his jeans when you caught his wrist and pulled him onto the bed;

“You don’t need to go”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome…”

“Look, unless you’re going to turn into a bat or something, you’re fine… we can talk, order some takeout…”

Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled to his chest as he smiled sleepily;

“That sounds good. Can i take you out on a proper date at some point?”

“That’d be nice. Though our options are slim in this town, its only Sue’s Coffee Shop or Big-G’s Bar… unless you want to get a take-out pizza and sit outside on the kerb”

“I’ll cook, come to my place? What are you doing Friday night?”

“I’m off, but…”

“But?”

You felt your cheeks flushing with heat;

“I’m due on by the end of the week…”

“Oh. OH…” You looked up at Walter and saw a flush over his cheeks and his blue eyes glinting with excitement and a smirk on his lips.

“Oh… you’re into that?”

“You’re… not? Because i just want to say, i would happily give oral to my girl on her period even pre-vamp status…now its just…”

“A snack?”

He let out a low belly laugh;

“Yeah, you could say that”

Curling up to Walter’s chest you felt a sense of calm you hadn’t experienced for a very long time, the conversation flowing easily and long into the night, before you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

[itcameuponamidnightqueer]

beau wakes up calm.

it’s a feeling so pervasive that she’s almost unsettled by it. their lives aren’t calm right now, between eiselcross and vess de rogna and now these eyes that keep popping up all over her and caleb. any calm she feels is usually immediately overshadowed by guilt for feeling it.

but beau can’t find it in her to feel guilty right now, not when the tower is quiet and there is a large, warm arm thrown protectively over her stomach. not when beau can feel the tickle of hot air at the back of her neck as yasha breathes, steady and restful in a way she doesn’t get to be when she’s awake. beau considers learning magic just so she can stop time and give yasha all the rest she deserves.

for now, she slowly rolls onto her back, taking care not to jostle yasha or slip out from under her secure embrace. she rolls over and doesn’t open her eyes until she’s on her back, the mirror directly above her, waiting.

it’s a sex mirror. of course it’s that, because caleb said as much when he told her about it, and god, does she owe him a week’s worth of uninterrupted research or whatever nerdy thing he wants in return. it’s a sex mirror and she and yasha have checked that off their list already, at least for the first time. second, fourth, something--they have definitely checked that off their list for a quantifiable number of times, it’s just that beau doesn’t quite know the number.

it’s a sex mirror but it’s also not because it’s more, because beau opens her eyes and can see the two of them as they are now--wrapped together, heavy and sticky in the illusory sunlight, sheets draped carelessly across their legs. they look good together. it isn’t the first time beau’s thought that, and with any luck (and a lot of hard work), it won’t be the last. but this is the first time that beau’s had the chance to really sink into that feeling, to see the reality of it and commit it to memory.

beau takes her time looking, glances over her own familiar body and the way it melts against one she can’t wait to know better. she should be a little cold perhaps, given that the sheets don’t go any higher than her hips and she hasn’t been wearing clothes for a good couple of hours. but yasha is so very there, so wide and curled around her in a way that seeks comfort as much as gives it. she’s on her side, the parts of her that aren’t touching beau sprawled greedily across the expanse of the bed. beau could spend hours looking at this reflection of them, of yasha and the curve of her muscles; the way her skin actually seems to create a glare in the early morning light. it’s so bright normally, even brighter now for the nearness of beau. time is fleeting and the tower will disappear soon and so beau is greedy--she looks at the angle of yasha’s legs, the way she twitches her toes on the one foot that hangs over the edge of the bed. beau looks at yasha’s back, the slope and strength of it; she remembers how solid and warm it felt under her fingers just a few hours ago. beau has known how sturdy yasha is since they met--has lusted over it since then, to be honest--but to feel it within her grasp, to be pressed against it and to have it soften and yield at her touch…

beau would learn magic to give yasha the peace she needs. she would learn art to memorialize this moment and the way they look together.

she watches yasha sleep, clocks the way her nose is pressed into the crook of beau’s neck. she almost cries at the drape of yasha’s arm across her chest--a few inches down and she’d have a handful of boob. as it is, beau’s heart is beating a rhythm right into yasha’s palm. 

beau turns her head away from yasha and clears her throat. “hey.” she clears it again when it becomes clear just how ragged it’s gotten. “dachsies, can you hear me? or do i have to yell.” she waits, straining to listen for the soft clink of a tiny bell or two. “frumpkin?” she tries again.

there is a faint ‘mrrp’ and the door to her bedroom opens slightly, just wide enough for a lithe fey cat to slip through. she can’t see frumpkin as he enters the room, but he’s there all of a sudden, jumping noiselessly and weightlessly on top of the bed.

he stares at her expectantly and beau wishes very much that caleb isn’t snooping, too.

frumpkin walks forward and sits next to her, the not-quite-fur of his tail swishing against her side. beau can’t help reaching out with the hand that isn’t trapped by yasha’s body and giving him a few scratches under his chin. he preens, closes his eyes tilts up to give her a better angle, and settles right back into his serious face when she pulls away.

“can you get the hot tub going again,” beau murmurs, “with some nice shampoos and shit? and maybe start working on a few dozen pancakes; i’m sure the others are gonna barge in here soon. make sure there’s a stack of spider ones for me and yash.”

frumpkin chirps again, butts his head against her chest as he jumps off the bed. beau reaches out to affectionately grab his tail, chuckling as it slips through her hands.

yasha is awake when beau turns back to look at her.

“hello,” yasha whispers. “good morning.” beau cuts her off with a kiss. “i love you.”

beau smiles at that, rolls over and presses herself firmly into yasha. she repositions yasha’s arm to wrap around her back, laughs when yasha drifts downward and squeezes her ass. beau kisses her again and again, slow and firm, catching any inch of lips or neck that she might have missed before. her hands roam without any destination, traipsing over the plane of yasha’s stomach, tickling at the dimples in her shoulders underneath which her wings sprout. beau knows how sensitive those spots are now, and she presses her fingers against them, syncs that up with another determined kiss. she doesn’t miss the way yasha’s tongue stutters against her own, the brief loss of contact she sacrifices to gasp, just a little.

yasha’s nails turn inwards and dig into beau’s hips, and beau returns the favor. 

beau reaches upward and grips yasha’s chin, marveling at the fact that her thumb seems to fit perfectly over the line of black beneath yasha’s lip. she pulls away and tickles the skin there, can’t resist one more kiss, especially when it elicits that special, breathy kind of laugh from yasha.

she makes sure yasha’s eyes are open and looking at her before she speaks.

“i love you, too,” beau says, her voice deeper and hoarser than usual, even for the morning. “last night was...i won’t ever forget it, yash.”

“me either.”

“might have been the best night of my life.”

“not if i have anything to say about it,” yasha winks. “i wish we didn’t have to leave.”

“yeah,” beau sighs--breathes, really, and she falls a little more in love with the way yasha doesn’t turn her face away from what is definitely a bad case of morning breath. “we’ve still got some time before we have to, though. the dogs are setting up the hot tub right now.”

yasha laughs, deep and rumbly and beau feels it in her chest. “before all of you i never would have understood that sentence.”

“right?”

“mhm. it is--a very fun thing to think about.”

yasha gently lifts a strand of hair from beau’s face and tucks it behind her ear. beau watches the entire time, so entranced by the size and safety of yasha’s hands, so determined to follow their path with a kiss, that she misses yasha’s other hand coming up to rest behind her legs, and beau lets out a very uncool yelp as yasha lifts her from the bed.

yasha drags them across the mattress, stands and gets herself situated, and it isn’t until they’re halfway to the floating pad that beau clocks exactly how she’s being carried.

yasha’s arms are confident beneath her shoulders and legs, and beau has looped her arms around yasha’s neck instinctually, and tears start to well up in this moment of realization.

“yasha…”

yasha stops walking, leans down and kisses her, and it isn’t because they’re naked that beau is glad no one can see them right now.

beau flutters through her feelings and rests her head against yasha’s chest, silently, as they float gently down to the hot tub. 

everything seems more muted in the daytime--the lionesses aren’t as imposing, the slides aren’t as tempting. but the steam and smells are just as inviting, and beau lets herself be carried into the water, settling into the warmth as yasha reaches for the soaps.

they both slip under the water; beau shakes her head and scratches at her scalp while she lingers, getting out the last of her restless energy. she pops back above the surface and drifts over to yasha, who has settled into the corner, her arms resting elegantly atop the stone edges. beau drops into yasha’s lap without a word, humming, content, as yasha’s arms slip back into the water and wrap around her body. yasha snakes her legs over the parts of beau that her arms can’t reach until beau is completely covered, completely enveloped in her love.

beau has always been attracted to women who could break her--big, strong women whose bigness and strength almost always equated to a good, long time in the bedroom. and yasha has that in spades--probably invented it--but it sure is fuckin’ something else to know that breaking is only half of it, that the flip side is that beau can be fully contained and sheltered in yasha’s arms. bigness is a comfort as much as it is a challenge. yasha uses her size to hold and cherish just as much as she uses it to fight.

beau sinks down so that her nose is just above the surface of the water, and tries her very best to pretend she isn’t crying. the effort is abandoned when she gets out of her head and realizes yasha is very carefully and very thoughtfully soaping up her hair with thick, gentle fingers.

beau sits up a bit and spits some water from her lips. “how come you’re so good at that?”

yasha takes a moment to think, tilts beau’s head back so she can rinse the shampoo out. “zuala and i didn’t have as much time together as i wanted,” she answers, “but we made sure to treasure every moment we were allowed.” she rubs her hands together, presumably spreading conditioner over them; beau can hear the slickness of it echo through the air. “i am able to follow a god because i had a wife once,” she says, quiet and matter-of-fact, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

god.

“well, fuck.” beau closes her eyes and tries to relax her shoulders as yasha’s hands knead through her hair again. “did you--i mean, i don’t want to overstep but--it was like this? all the time?”

yasha is quiet again, patient with her feelings and beau and the combination of the two. she slows her ministrations and rests her hands on the sides of beau’s face, her thumbs tickling at beau’s ears.

“the only similarity between the love i feel for zuala and the love i feel for you is that it is coming from me,” yasha finally says. “it was like this, yes--and it wasn’t like this at all. it was different because it was her. the whole world was different because it was her, you know?”

beau nods. “hope so,” she replies. “trying to, at least.”

yasha squeezes her cheeks, presses a kiss to the top of her soapy head. she gently pushes beau underwater and scrubs her hair clean with a little more force this time. beau lays back and watches, smiles as yasha scoops a hand underwater and brushes it over her lips.

beau sits back up feeling more refreshed and loved than she ever has in her whole life.

she swirls around to face yasha, lets the water guide her back to yasha’s lap. beau hooks her legs around yasha’s torso, lets the water hold her up as she drapes yasha’s hair over her shoulders.

“your braids could use a little touch-up,” she murmurs.

yasha, so sensitive and careful about her hair, simply nods and watches as beau lets it out, making tidy piles with the ties and ribbons on the ledge. yasha’s hair billows out once the last bunch is free; in the water, she looks beautiful and serene.

beau rests her hands on either side of yasha’s face, swipes her thumbs under yasha’s eyes as they kiss. “thank you,” she says, softly, “for loving me.”

yasha sighs and kisses her again. “you make it easy, beau. you don’t have to thank me.”

“i do,” beau insists. “for now, i do.”

she directs yasha away from the wall, takes her place in the shampoo corner. it’s a little different this time--beau can’t surround yasha quite as fully, and she has to wrap her legs around yasha and float to get a good angle to wash her hair. but yasha doesn’t complain, and she rests her arms on beau’s thighs and slides her hands over her legs, soothing and present. the water never cools off and the dogs are somewhere else, and for a few quiet moments, nothing in the world exists except this tub in this tower, hidden in a smelly, dirty tavern.

/

they’re clean and laughing in the kitchen by the time the rest of the party trickles in. beau can hear jester and veth speaking at cartoonishly loud volumes, announcing themselves just in case beau and yasha are doing anything worth being interrupted.

beau smiles, grabs a spider-less bite of pancake, and squeezes yasha’s hand.

“oh, here they are,” caduceus says as they file in. he takes a deep breath and smiles at the spread of food. “what a feast.”

he disappears, probably to make some tea, and beau looks at yasha for just a moment longer before the energy is too much to ignore.

she turns and almost bursts out laughing at the sight of everyone, lined up in front of the table, watching the two of them intently. veth’s eyes are as big as saucers and jester’s are shimmering, her hands clamped over her mouth. next to her, fjord is blushing and even caleb is sporting a smile, reluctant though it may look.

“hey,” beau says. she smiles casually and she means it.

“you’re so cute!!” jester shouts, flinging her hands away from her face. “oh my god, you guys, you have to tell me everything; i’m so happy for you even though we had to sleep in that super stinky room. please tell me it was worth it.”

beau laughs, winks as she tickles yasha’s hand. “totally worth it, jes,” she promises. she gets up from the table, kisses yasha’s knuckles as she does, and gestures for jester to take her seat. “talk to yasha for a sec, okay? i left you some spider-cakes.”

beau is too focused on grabbing caleb to notice the way jester scrunches her nose.

she doesn’t catch fjord’s eye as she leads caleb out of the room and she definitely doesn’t look anywhere near veth. she just drags her cranky wizard to a corner out of eyesight of any window in the kitchen and crosses her arms.

“if you’re about to tell me everything,” caleb says, “please don’t be offended when i say that i would be happier not to hear it.”

“what? no, gross. i mean, not gross-gross, but because--you, gross, right?” beau clears her throat, gently punches caleb’s shoulder to center herself. “i don’t...wanna tell you stuff. i just wanted to do this away from everyone else.”

caleb narrows his eyes. “do what?”

beau steps forward and hugs him. there’s no hesitation or coaching this time, just a strong press of her arms, and she stays there as long as it takes for him to hug back and mean it.

“thank you,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “this was….very special to me.”

“of course,” caleb mutters. “you need only ask, beauregard.”

“yeah, you say that, but it’s like--i know it, now.” to her horror, beau sniffles.

“i am glad you had a good time.”

“the best.”

“you smell very nice. thank you for bathing before hugging me.”

“i got you, dude.”

“can you let go of me now?”

“yeah, sure.” beau steps back and gives him one last shoulder squeeze. 

caleb nods and squeezes back. he snaps his fingers and frumpkin is there, leaping onto his shoulder as they walk back toward the kitchen,

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Seven / Decaf

W/C: 4k

Warnings: language, dirty thoughts, all of the dirty thoughts because Javi is a horndog, male masturbation... general spice. pining that could make a pine cone tremble.

A/N: welcome to pining central, enjoy your stay :) (ps when Steve says “Javier Peña” I need you to read that in the voice of Anthony Mackie going “SEBASTIAN STAN”)

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ordinary coffee that has had most of its caffeine removed from it before the beans are roasted.

You are a goddamn test on Javier’s self control. He feels like those biblical stories of men fighting back against temptation to prove themselves to God, except the only thing he has to prove is to himself. To you.

He’s always been enraptured by you, captivated by your smile and laugh but since you went ice skating, he hasn’t been able to get your body out of his mind. The way you fell asleep on him last night, nuzzled in like it was the safest place on earth. He could feel your breasts press into his skin, the warmth of your thigh hiked across his abdomen. If the past week has been some caffeine-induced fever dream, it’s becoming real now. You, a figment of his imagination before, maybe, are all flesh and blood and God, is he desperate for it.

Javier hangs around your apartment when you’re gone at work. He doesn’t have much else to do, considering you’re gone and he knows hardly anything about the city. He watches the daytime television on your couch, usually meanders to the coffee shop for a drink, spends some time there, and returns to the apartment.

He feels like he’s couch-surfing, like he did for a summer in his college years. He feels guilty occupying the space in your home, especially without payment. As he walks to the bathroom, he takes a long glance into your bedroom. The queen-sized bed is mussed, unmade before you left for work. The fitted sheet is pooled in the middle beneath where you sleep, the various blankets tossed about. It looks like the coziest damn thing he’s ever seen, especially after a couple of nights on a couch.

Javier almost thinks about giving in, waiting for you to ask him to sleep in your bed tonight then jumping at the chance. Maybe he will, if he’s tired enough. Maybe he won’t, but maybe he will. He can think of nothing better than the endless whir of the radiator as your perpetually-cold body nuzzles against him, brushes your nose against his bare chest.

It’s been a long time since Javi has fucked anyone, and he’s starting to feel it. He’s a little antsy, and the image of your body, your ass as you ice skate past him, haunts him like a bad dream- or rather some illicit fantasy he knows he shouldn’t be having.

Would you want him yet? You’ve told him you love him, but that was an accident. When he kisses you, you kiss back harder. Hell, you initiated the first kiss. You seem like you’ve been all-in on this relationship, taking things at a rushed pace that Javier certainly doesn’t mind. He spends a lot of the day contemplating that, standing on the tiny balcony of your apartment and smoking a couple of cigarettes.

At this point, he needs a distraction or he’s going to have to take matters into his own hands, quite literally. What better to kill the horny buzz making his head spin than to call Murphy?

The phone is in your bedroom, on the nightstand. Javier dares to sit on the edge of your bed, and actually moans aloud at the plush comfort, the way his ass sinks into it. Goddamn, he’ll have to get one of these. He wants nothing more than to lay back and fall into the bed, wait for you to get home and pound you into the comfortable mattress. But he doesn’t. He stays strong and picks up the phone, dialing the new Murphy residence in Miami.

After a couple of rings, a familiar voice answers. “Murphy’s.”

“Hey, bastard,” Javier chuckles, and he can hear the blonde man’s laughter from across the receiver.

“Javier Peña,” Steve drawls, dragging out the name. “Good to hear your voice, man. You finally come out of a ten-day celebratory drunkenness?”

“Don’t talk to me about binges,” Javier teases, but he smiles a little. He’s missed the man. He’s glad neither of them got in any trouble over the entire Los Pepes situation- God, that feels like ages ago now. It’s hard to believe he’s only been in D.C. what, eleven days? If Steve’s math is right, yeah. “No. I’m in D.C. still, if you can believe it. Just… bored.”

“Oh really?” the man scoffs, leaning against his kitchen counter in Miami with Olivia on his hip. “And why’s that? What are you still doin’ up there anyway? Thought you were goin’ to visit the old man.”

Javier shakes his head. “Plans changed. There’s, uh… there’s a girl.”

Steve lets out a wolf whistle, laughing. “And how much does she charge a night?”

“Not one of those. She works at a coffee shop around here,” he informs him. “She’s… she’s really something. Nothing I ever thought I’d be into. She’s gorgeous, man, and so energetic all the damn time. Seems like she has an IV of coffee from her shop,” he chuckles, looking off into space. He takes a pause. Steve doesn’t speak. “I wanna be with her Steve. I don’t… I don’t know if I can go back.”

He’s silent a little longer. “This is some kind of practical joke, right?” Steve says after a beat, barely holding back a laugh. Never has Javier been so sincere, so real and honest and open. And more specifically, he’s never been like this over a girl. Almost… mushy. Soft. “Tell me more,” he says, hoping the joke will give up.

Javier talks about you, describing every little detail with a grin on his face. He tells Steve about Tie Guy and ice skating and your piece of shit car, how you can spin in circles on the ice and how you remind him of a busy little bee, fluttering about the coffee shop.

Steve is genuinely rendered speechless; a hard thing to do. He blinks down at Olivia then straight ahead at the refrigerator, covered in photos and magnets and drawings. He can’t imagine Javier ever wanting something like this, like what he and Connie have, but he sure sounds like it. “That’s… something. Good for you, Javi,” Steve chuckles, resigning to sincerity. “I’m happy for you.”

Javier grumbles back. “Don’t get too happy. I have to go back to Calí in three weeks. She doesn’t want me to leave… I don’t know what to do, Murph. I can’t bring her with, you know that, but I can’t just leave her here. And I sure as hell can’t quit.”

“You could quit.”

“I’m not going to, how’s that?” Javier huffs and crosses his arms, annoyed by Steve and his goddamn wording loopholes. “I just… fuck. I’m gonna go think about it before she gets back.”

“She comin’ to your hotel? You sure you aren’t paying per night?” He smirks.

Javier’s quiet and Steve isn’t sure what it means until he talks. “I’m, uh, staying at her place. She insisted.”

Steve whistles again. “Damn. You’re whipped, Peña. Well, I’ll let you go. Call again soon. I miss ya, bud,” he tells Javier in a moment of earnesty then hangs the phone back on the receiver, bringing Olivia to her nursery to change her diaper.

Javi sighs and falls backwards on the bed, admiring the way the mattress holds his body compared to the couch. Yeah, he’ll definitely need to sleep in here tonight or he’s going to crack his spine.

The issue will be you. He could handle it on the couch; it was like a soft, adolescent form of love, innocent and warm. Of course, it could still be the same in your bed. But would it? Is there not a different set of implications that come with the two of you sharing a bed?

Snuggling with you on the couch was nice. Wonderful, perfect even. Javier loves falling asleep with you in his arms. But in your bed, arms curled around him, maybe even being his little spoon… that perfect body pressed flush to his own, your soft ass against his groin, your breathing pushing back into his chest… that would be an entirely different thing. And he wants it, he really does, but he isn’t sure he’ll be able to control himself.

He slept like shit the last night, to be honest. You on top of him prevented him from moving, and Javier is an active sleeper. His neck was at an odd angle and his back twisted. His body feels like it did after that fight with Tie Guy. He can’t- wouldn’t- invade your privacy of your bed without you home to give him the go ahead, but he’s so damn tired. Not even the coffee helps.

So Javier indulges in one of life’s little pleasures he rarely gets to experience: a nap. Curled up on his side on the couch, blankets pulled snug around his fetal-positioned body, Javier drifts off to the sound of the noon news on the television.

That’s how you find him when you come home. He’s peacefully asleep, his lips parted and mustache moving with his exhales. Well, he’s clearly alive. That’s good.

You’re not sure how long he’s been asleep, so you leave him, making yourself something to eat in the kitchen. You avoid the living room as you get settled in, changing out of your espresso-stained clothing and into something more comfortable.

When you’re all comfy, makeup removed and a warm sweater on, you sit at the other end of the couch. Javier’s curled into a ball, his feet just inches away from your legs. You hope when he moves, he’ll feel you there and wake. If not, oh well. He deserves the rest.

It’s gray and cloudy outside, and you snuggle into the corner of the couch while reading your worn copy of The Great Gatsby. It’s the one you’ve been re-reading recently, what you were reading that first day Javi wandered into your coffee shop and subsequently your life.

Javi wakes not long later, maybe half an hour, to the sound of your book crinkling. The paperback’s spine crunches with wear, and his eyes flutter open to see you tucked against a pillow. God, you look like an angel, the light from the cloudy day filtering in and illuminating you from the back. Your face is calm and peaceful, focused as your eyes trace the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald. “Hi,” Javier mumbles groggily.

Your expression turns to a smile and you set down the book. “Hey.” You take his legs and drape them across your lap, tracing your fingers across them. “How’d you sleep?”

He groans. “Okay. Neck hurts.”

“That wouldn’t be an issue if you’d just sleep with me,” you sing-song to him, stroking his legs through the comfortable pants he wears. “My bed is super cozy.”

God, does Javier know it. It felt like your love itself when he laid down and the warmth of it swallowed him, practically whole. “Maybe I’ll give in,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “How was work? Sorry I didn’t visit.”

“Boring as always,” you chuckle. “What did you do today?”

Javi frowns as he thinks about it, his brain fogged with sleep. “Not much. Called Murphy, talked a while. He’s doing good.”

“Good,” you nod and smile. “When will I get to meet this elusive Steve?” You ask, softly kneading at his legs through the blanket and frowning as you realize he’s wearing… jeans. “Wait, pause. Are you seriously wearing jeans?” you ask him and laugh, lifting the blanket to confirm what you already suspected.

He frowns defensively, crossing his arms. “Maybe.”

“Why the fuck would you take a nap in jeans, Javi?” You laugh.

Javier looks away, frowning. The stubbornness shows. “I don’t own many comfortable clothes besides what I wear to work, if you haven’t noticed,” he retorts, but you can’t help but giggle. “Plus I thought I’d only be here to get fired.”

You smile at him lovingly and cup his face. “You sweet, stupid workaholic. Let’s go shopping later, get you some cozy stuff.”

Javier warms against your touch but maintains a pout. “I like jeans.”

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a laugh. “Would a pair of sweatpants be detrimental to your wardrobe, Javier?”

“Stop using big words,” he groans. “I’m barely awake.”

-

The large mall is annoying to Javier, full to the brim with last-minute (or maybe prepared, he never holiday-purchases) shoppers. He holds your hand, shooting feisty glares at anyone that dares to bump against his or, god forbid, your side. “Relax,” you tease and squeeze his free hand. The other carries a bag containing two hoodies, three t-shirts, and two pairs of sweatpants. “You’re not on a mission, and you certainly don’t have the knuckles to pitch another fight.”

He looks at his hands and scowls. You’re right. They’re no longer black and blue but faded yellows and greens, a spare bit of purple over the bones. The fight wasn’t that long ago, really, even though it feels like an eternity.

You drag Javier into a favorite shop of yours. He follows you around like a lost puppy while you search through clothes. He even hands you one or two tops he thinks you’d look nice in. You kiss him on the cheek and he dares to smile for a moment before returning to his stone-faced annoyance at such a packed area.

The dressing rooms are nicer, much more spaced out and offering places to rest. Javier sits in a chair across from your little cubby as you try things on. Every time you find something, you come out and model it for him. He comments, always positively, gives a little applause and smiles at the twirl you give in the big trifold mirror.

There’s one pair of leggings that hug your ass tight. Javier nearly salivates at them. “I like those,” he comments. “They look comfortable.” The same follows with a pair of jeans, even more flattering. He crosses his legs and nods, giving you similar comments.

Then come the dresses and tops. They’re all low-cut, not the wintery clothing Javier’s always seen you in. They show off your cleavage, and one scarlet colored blouse with a low neckline and fluffy sleeves makes Javier’s eyes simultaneously light up and darken. “How’s this one?” You ask, tugging at the sleeves.

“How much is it?” He asks, leaning back and looking at you through lidded eyes.

“Uh…” you tell him the cost and look back up at him, expecting a comment. “Why?”

“I’m buying that for you myself,” he smirks up at you, eyeing you up and down in a way that makes your skin feel intensely hot. The sight is stunning to him, and your flustered smile makes the smirk a little more devilish.

Javier does end up buying you the shirt, and you purchase a few other things you liked. But that scarlet shirt is stuck on Javier’s mind in replay: the subtle valley between your tits, how they filled out the shirt just perfectly and tugged at the cloth covering them, the way they look painfully soft to the touch, especially through that soft fabric. He wonders if you were wearing a bra under it. Then he has to stop himself.

You eat dinner late, chatting mindlessly over everything and nothing. Javier has no work to speak of now, so he tells you tall tales of the hunt for Escobar, some exaggerated and some underplayed. He mainly listens to you, asks about your past and your future, your family and your job. He could never tire of your voice, the soothing lull that warms him from the inside out, just like your skin flushed in that goddamn red top.

He drives the both of you home, humming softly to the songs on the radio. He’s beginning to recognize more and more of the top-40 hits on a certain preset station, songs he’d never listen to on his own. He glances over at you, gazing out of the window, and feels his body warm again- not just in his heart, but his stomach and lower too. He dares to steal a glance down, at the soft swell of your tits in that sweater. God, he wants to get you naked.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what you want and he’s too afraid to ask, too afraid to shatter this blissful phase of adoration without the sexual attraction. He wonders if you feel it too, if your clothes suddenly feel too restricting and too warm when you run a hand down his bare back.

The nightly routine ensues: you shower. Javier changes, this time into a new hoodie but leaves his legs bare, wearing only boxers on the bottom. He waits on the couch, and when you exit the bathroom, he takes his turn. He returns and sits next to you on the couch.

Tonight, when you ask him to share your bed with you, he doesn’t say no. In fact, he doesn’t say much of anything, just yawns softly and stands, taking your hand.

It’s a sacred space, your bed. Javier knows it. He rarely fucks women in his; whether it’s for his own privacy or fear they’ll fall asleep there, he can’t say. But your bed is such an intimate expression of you, and he can see it. He can see the divot in the mattress where you sleep, the way you arrange the pillows just right for your own head. It is a queen size, but it’s single-occupancy: until now, that is, and Javier feels honored you’re willing to share this holiness with him.

He gets into the bed on the other side of you, the warm blankets enveloping him, and he nearly lets out a moan at the comfort. Compared to the hotel bed and the couch, this is sleeping on a literal cloud from the heavens. He lies still, waiting to see what you do first. Not wanting to overstep anything.

His prayers are answered when you snuggle into his side. You rest your head on his chest, kissing his sternum through the soft material of the hoodie. A hand rests on the other side of your face, and your legs both encircle one of his. Javier smiles, wrapping an arm around you. He presses a kiss into your hair and murmurs a goodnight, letting his head fall back. He has no time to worry about this situation before he falls asleep.

He falls asleep almost immediately, which makes you chuckle through your half-conscious state. He seems to always radiate heat, Javier. Your layers of blankets upon blankets suddenly feel unnecessary when a heat source the strength of the summer sun fills your bed. His chest is strong and firm beneath you. The rise and fall of his chest is like a boat rocking on the ocean, putting you at ease and allowing you to rest.

-

Fuck. He knew this was a bad idea. Why did he do this?

The clock reads 1:48 and Javier is wide awake, staring at your popcorn-stucco-whatever the fuck it is ceiling. He wasn’t able to process this before sleep overtook him, before his consciousness was wiped and with it, his inhibitions.

Your body is pressed to his so perfectly. You sleep without a bra, and Javier can feel his arm being slightly sandwiched between your breasts, the way they press further into it every time you inhale. Your thighs are warm with sleep, and he can feel your core pressed against his hip, even while you sleep and even through the layers of clothing.

Javier feels like the embodiment of slime. You’re asleep and all he can think about is how fucking hot your body is, how much he wants to press you into this mattress and wake you with an orgasm. He wants to palm your tits and make your nipples harden through that flimsy shirt, to slide his fingers beneath your pajama bottoms and-

He can’t take it. He feels so wrong, the smell of you surrounding him and choking him like a thick perfume, even in its subtlety. He does not deserve to sleep next to you, innocently, like someone you love, when all he can think about is his own carnal desires.

Pushing back the covers, Javier gets out of bed before any more blood can flow to his slowly hardening dick. This is all wrong. He should not be doing this, thinking these things without knowing you feel the same.

But the guilt is as strong as his arousal. He watches you for a moment, torn between his options, before meandering through the darkened bedroom and finding his way into the bathroom. He turns on the bright lights and forces himself to stare at the bulbs, to make his pupils shrink from their blown state of sleep mixed with desperation. He’s fully awake now.

He needs to get the hardened length down. He can’t do this, can’t allow himself this suffering while you sleep in the next room.

The sink. Cold water. He gasps silently at the splash of the ice-cold water against his face, dampening the edges of his hoodie. It doesn’t work enough. Again. Nothing. He feels like a teenager, unable to control himself. The cold water is a good idea, though.

Javier strips down, trying to avoid the urge to take himself in hand and fix this here and now. Turning the water as cold as it can go, Javier turns on the shower and steps in.

Agony is the best term he has. It makes him want to squeal like a fucking pig as he shudders from the cold. It doesn’t work to force his erection down, but what use is it when it’s not something physical but mental stimulating him? The cold shock didn’t do shit. Javier’s still achingly hard. He turns the water warmer and sighs as it gradually turns to a tolerable temperature, one that he can relax under and allow himself to let out a deep sigh.

He has no other options, unless he wants to wait it out. Leaning against the wall, Javier strokes himself, biting his lip and hoping the water pressure will cancel any soft moans he can’t avoid. It doesn’t take long when he’s this aroused, when he knows exactly what the fantasy in his head would feel like.

Javier is panting and sweating, from the effort and the growing heat of the water. He feels disgusting but it feels so good, and he can’t help imagining you doing this to him, you spreading your legs and feeding the fire between his own.

It only takes a few minutes. He gasps as he cums, with a force he’s never brought forth with his own hand. He bites his lip so hard he’s sure he might cut it off, not allowing the desperate sounds to reach a level you could hear. When he’s done, he groans and cracks his neck. “Oh, little bee,” he whispers, agonized as he lets the water wash the evidence of his sins down the drain.

When he’s done, Javier walks into your bedroom, silently, in the dark. His previous boxers were stained with a patch of his precum; he can’t put those back on. He drops the towel and puts on different boxers.

After he’s changed, he looks at your bed longingly for a moment. The soft sheets, soft mattress, the soft body between them. But in Javier’s head, he’s forsaken his right to the warmth, the comfort.

When you wake in the morning, hours after you thought you heard the shower running, you find Javier is not in your bed. There isn’t even a warm spot where he lay, just your body shifted further from your normal sleeping position. When you wander out to make your morning coffee, you find him. He spent the night on the couch again.

-

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