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[mercy-burning]

A Kindness You Can't Afford

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: Something that started out as 'stress relief between co-workers' is now a little concerning to you, but for some reason you can't help but keep letting Spencer walk through your door... Rating: Mature (18+) Content: Strong language, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, blink-and-you'll-miss-it choking, squirting (As always, let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: @imagining-in-the-margins sent me lyrics to Hozier's It Will Come Back to entice me to write something for her monthly challenge (which is themed Friends With Benefits), and then this happened. You can thank her for this. And also Emily Henry, because I read Happy Place and Beach Read back to back recently, and DAMN IT if I wasn't itching to do some romance-writing of my own. Sure, this one is less romance and more porn without plot, but I digress. The inspiration is there and that's all that matters. Plus I've started working on something else that probably won't see the light of day for a long while, but it's nice to feel the motivation. I'm starting to feel like myself again :) I don't know how long this creative sparkling cloud of dust is going to last, but I'm grateful to be living in it, if at least for a little while. It feels good to be there again <3

Enjoy!!

*******

There's a small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. A chill permeates your nervous system and sends you off on shaky limbs until you reach it, and as your palm comes in contact with the cool metal of the doorknob, you're disappointed to discover that the contrast does nothing to comfort the hot and clammy skin. Unless the person behind the door turns out not to be who you think, you will not know that comfort.

You open the door anyway, already used to this feeling of unease. It's a feeling you've come to tolerate, and sometimes even crave in desperate moments. Tonight has not seen one of those moments, but you suppose that doesn't really matter because you've already agreed to his terms, and unless you call it off, you're stuck. You've seriously considered doing it a few times, but something deep inside tells you he might not like it very much, and you're unsure of how he'll react.

It isn't a risk you're willing to take.

And so, you meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm. He looks a little sleep deprived, but it's nothing new. Your work is exhausting. It was a major deciding factor and is the driving force behind your agreement in the first place. A way to relieve stress. Somewhere along the way, it seemed to have turned into something darker, though in retrospect that darkness has always been there. You often think back to the first time you initiated intimacy— how excited you were that he seemed willing to take you up on the offer... How your head swam through glittering mist and your heart beat quickly at his words.

"God, Y/N, I need you to be sure... Because once we go there, once you let me in... Even after I leave, I'm always going to be there... You're going to feel me everywhere you go, and that's a promise..."

In the moment it even sounded romantic, and in some twisted way, it might still be. But you don't want to let your brain misconstrue this whole situation. You've promptly decided to take it for what it is and accept the fact that he has some deep desires he needs to expel, and you're just a convenient companion for the journey.

"Spencer, you're here late..."

He exhales through his nose. "No later than usual."

"Right... Come on in." You widen the door and confidently step aside like you wouldn't know any different.

Rather than let you close the door, he'd taken your words as an invitation to make himself at home, pushing it shut with his foot and jolting you forward with it, subsequently pulling you towards him. His hands are quick to guide your face to his own, and without a second more in passing, the night has officially begun.

Electricity is immediate, sizzling through your core at Spencer's drive. It's true that when you're alone, it's difficult not to overthink the situation and rope the emotional and logical side of it to the forefront of your mind. But being with him like this dissipates the thinking entirely. All you know is that it feels so good, and it's absolutely worth all the turmoil you put your brain through.

It's worth it when his tongue possesses your own and coaxes the most sinful, desperate noises from the depths of your chest, and when your delicate fingers find purchase in his hair. It's worth it when your back is up against the door with his knee wedged between your thighs. It's worth it when his hand glides down your jaw until each finger curls around your neck, not choking you but simply resting there like a necklace would. He squeezes gently for a second each time you twitch your hips, desperate to feel friction, and you whimper.

You've come to learn that the more noises you make, the more he rewards you with... well, more. So it doesn't take very long for him to decide that enough is enough, and he pulls away from you to turn you around. You brace your arms on the door and lean your head to the left so he can work.

Warm lips attach to your neck as nimble fingers snake around your front and dip below the band of your lounge shorts and underwear. Your insides hum to life, and your legs naturally spread apart a little further, making Spencer laugh against your skin. You half expect him to tease you, but the surprise leaves your body in the form of a rather whorish Oh! when he spreads you apart and glides his fingers through your warm cunt. He explores you thoroughly, circling and spreading and plunging his fingers inside you, until eventually he continues a slow and steady pace running up and down your clit. You can feel it in his breath, in the way it stutters over your neck— He's about to give you your first orgasm of the night. If his skilled hands wouldn't do it (which you know they will), his words definitely would.

"Mmmm, I love how warm you are, Y/N," he slurs into your neck. Then he lightly nips at your shoulder and quickens the pace and pressure on your clit. "And how fucking messy you get for me..."

You know what he wants, but even if you hadn't, it still would have happened. The first time he made you squirt, he'd been determined to do it again. And again. In every different way possible. Over the course of your stress-relief-escapades you've come to learn that this particular way (with his hand down your loose-fitting shorts) is his favorite. He never strives to do it anymore unless you're wearing a pair. Perhaps it's the sounds, or the feeling of your damp clothes and the desperate need to peel them away in favor of something more solid, but it's become your favorite way, too.

Your nails scratch at the door as you pant and sigh your way through an intense building orgasm, and Spencer leans forward with you, using his free hand to assist in holding you up as he furiously works at your clit with the other. His chin rests on your shoulder as he huffs out, "Go on, baby, let it out..."

He knows you're close, and those final encouraging words seem to snap the coil tightening inside you. Your thighs tense for just a second before you feel every wave of pleasure crashing into every limb. And then, you're able to relax and ride it out, letting him hold you up and pull the orgasm out of you like magic. It's wet, it's warm, and it's fucking sensational...

You can practically see the wild look in Spencer's eyes even if you couldn't actually see him at all. His presence is always, as promised, so inherently there, that even now it's a vivid image. His pupils are an empty abyss, and if you look too closely you're sure to fall in. Hell, you're not even positive that you haven't already fallen in, because the thought of calling it all off when it feels this good seems, simply put, wrong. Why would you ever want to deprive yourself of this feeling? His possessive, damn-near monstrous way of loving you as concerning as it is, had taken you to the highest places you'd ever known. Even if it isn't 'love' on paper, you certainly love it anyway. And he must love it, too, otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back.

He only comes back because you let him in in the first place, the rational part of your brain tries to reason, though it can't quite break through the fog of lust. At this point, it's so thick that you aren't sure it's ever going to clear.

Not that, right now, you'd mind...

Once your breathing slows and your legs gather the strength to pivot, Spencer removes his hand from your shorts and gently guides you to turn around. His lips are on yours immediately, and he's tugging at your shorts and underwear to pull them down. They drop to the ground and without a second to spare, he tugs you along through your living room and over to the couch. It's practically a straight shot to the bedroom from here, but apparently time is not a luxury he can afford this evening, because you barely have time to anticipate what his next move might be before he makes it.

Mouths still attached, the two of you nearly fall on the couch, and Spencer's weight covers you like a blanket. His hips pin yours down and his arms have taken to pinning your own above your head. He nips at your bottom lip and pulls away for a moment, but you chase him, trying to lean up and keep kissing him and whimpering when you can't.

A low laugh exhales from his chest. "And I thought I was the needy one in this relationship..."

He shifts then, getting up and kneeling between your bare legs to start undoing his pants. Meanwhile you lift your shirt over your head, grateful you'd already ditched the bra earlier in the afternoon. Less time to waste.

Seeing you completely bare from head to toe and ready for him seems to amplify that animalistic quality in Spencer that's so unlike the aura of the boy you met years and years ago. Whether he had that quality before he'd met you is unknown, but it's hard to imagine. You like to think that you and you alone have single-handedly created this primal sexual being simply by expressing interest in what youcould offer him amongst the joint understanding of the daily hardships that leech onto a BAU agent. Regardless of the truth, the sheer sense of power it fills you with... In every deep stroke of his cock, in every mark left behind, and in every praise sung, there is this irreplaceable strength that you cling to long after he's gone.

No hard truth would ever take that feeling away, and so you can't help the grin that manifests at his urgency. You can tell he wants nothing more than to sink into you immediately; he visibly struggles for a moment before opting to fully slide his pants and underwear off together until they're tossed over somewhere into the abyss. You half-expect him to whip his shirt off to join them, but instead he lunges forward and covers you again, muffling your whimpers with his mouth as one hand guides himself into your slick cunt.

You can feel the rumble in his chest the moment he's all the way in and you clench around him. He rests his forehead to yours and kisses you deeply before asking, "You ready for me, Y/N?"

The low echoing tone in his voice seems to answer in the momentary silence that follows.

You better be... 

It sends a chill down to the marrow of your bones.

You barely whisper out, "Yes," and before the last letter leaves your mouth, Spencer has pulled back and snapped his hips forward, starting a slow and brutal pace inside you. Your legs spread wide naturally, giving him all the room in the world to position himself to handle you however he wants. He opts for holding your breasts in his palms, holding himself steady and pinning you down firmly to the couch cushions.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to start their descent to the back of your head, until they flutter shut and you're seeing stars behind closed lids. His pace quickens, still hard and determined, and yet you know he has more in him. Part of you itches to whine and beg for him to go farther, to push him to his limits and make him fuck you until you're nearly unconscious and delirious. And truthfully, that's still a high possibility, but you also wouldn't mind staying like this forever.

Then, one of his hands shifts and glides up to your neck again. You open your eyes and find Spencer staring down at your body with hair falling down in front of his face and sweat forming on his brow. His mouth hangs open and then grins when he catches you staring, the sight making you sigh out and grip the bottom hem of his shirt with your fingers for any kind of stability.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm, and by the way his face is slightly scrunching you can tell that he's not far behind you.

Just the flash-forward thought of him filling you up sends a jolt through your body, and before you know it, your legs are tensing again, and you're yelling out his name in broken syllables as a flood of warmth spreads through your body. For a split second you wonder if you've both come undone at the same time, but this feeling is different and more intense. Familiar.

The sounds filling the room only confirms your conclusion, and then Spencer's words as he pauses and feels you twitching around him.

"Twice in one night, huh?"

You force yourself to look at him, to see the unhinged pride pooling in his eyes as you finish and wait for him to follow suit. It both empowers and frightens you at the same time, an odd combination of feelings that you're sure to have a crisis about in the morning. But for now, you can't help but lean back and watch the ceiling as Spencer grips your hips and starts fucking you relentlessly into the couch.

Finally, he pauses at the hilt inside you and holds himself there, stuttering out expletives and coming. He pulls back and then forwards a couple times, gently rocking himself through it, and then his grip on your body loosens and you're able to pull him down to you.

You wrap your legs around him to keep him still, unwilling to let go of this feeling quite yet. It's there— that strength that he gives you, whether he knows it's there or not.

And in about an hour after you wash up and go to bed, he will be gone, and that strength will slowly fizzle out overnight, and like clockwork, you'll long to feel it again some time after the concern runs its course— After you replay the night in your head, over and over, analyzing every look and every touch and every reaction. After you frighten yourself into believing that he must be in tune with some level of evil to use you for rough sex and then leave you alone during the day and act like it never happened, even though it's literally what you agreed to.

The back and forth will only make living harder, and so you'll push it all away and focus on work. Until Spencer eventually brushes your arm with the back of his hand as he passes you, or hands you a cup of coffee with a kind smile, and then you'll come right back to wondering how such a gentle soul could hold such intensity. It will unnerve you until you tell yourself that it's just the complexities of the human condition and that every soul contains multitudes. You see it every day. It's not uncommon. It's completely normal.

The thought will calm you enough to get you through the rest of the afternoon, and when you get home, you'll settle in for the night without a second thought. You'll make dinner, watch a show, read a book, endlessly scroll online, or talk to Penelope about whatever show she's watching... You'll keep yourself busy.

And then the sun will set. Your house will grow quiet. You'll start to feel it: the small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. You'll meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm.

So, yes. For now, you will hold onto him a little longer and bask in the afterglow of this exercise in 'stress relief'. Because even if it doesn't mean anything greater, and whether there's even anything within Spencer's motivations to decode in the first place... This moment in time, each time, is the most relieved you ever feel.

Your fingers flex gently over his shoulders, and through the soft, even exhaling of his breath across your cheek, you know for certain he feels the same.

*******

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out): 

@starrylang @xoxospencerreid @lovejules888 @awesomebooklover17 @yourmisosoup @gubswh0re @venomsvl @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @umbreonwolfy @hotchandspencearedilfs @spencerreidsmommy @abby2661 @youabitchhhh @reidsbabe @shemarmooresfedora @donald4spiderman @moonlight-2-6 @chaoticcatie @flipperpenguins @muffin-cup @centiaaa @foreveryoungxx3 @happymangospot @matthew-gray-gubler-lover

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

[jezabelle9299]

Morning Sunshine S.R x fem! Reader

Overture- Sleepy Spencer x Morning person fem! Reader. They're sharing a room, and he has no idea how you're so lovely this early.

Cws- Exhaustion

A/N-Wow, before it's even midnight--I'm practically productive. Day 17, I'm very excited. This is shorter, but I do kind of really like this idea.

If you'd like to read the other things I've done this month you can do that here: October Masterlist

**************************

By Day 4 of this practically endless case, morale was at an all time low. The small motel had enough rooms for everyone for the first 3 days of the case, but now it was the weekend and they were nearly packed. And of course Spencer’s luck had him stuck with the woman he couldn’t get out of his head for months now, in some cosmic joke where he’s trapped with quite possibly the love of his life–sleeping four feet away from him in a different bed. 

Of course it wasn’t actually a matter of fate, just a gentle push from JJ.

He stayed behind at the police station until he was sure you’d be asleep, then he muddled back to your shared room thanking every deity he could name that you were fast asleep. Only to thank each of them again at his exhaustion allowing him to just pass out without thinking himself into a panic just by being near you. 

You however were just a little bit overjoyed when Hotch was handing out the second round of room keys. Packing cuter pajamas was no longer an option, but you were still looking forward to Spencer being the last person you saw after this terrible day. If only he was actually there. You honestly assumed he decided to just sleep in Derek’s room to avoid you– a thought that hurt your feelings more than you’d like to admit. 

When Spencer did wake up to the lovely sound of his alarm screaming at him, he opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was you. He knew you were a morning person, but he never expected this. It was barely 5am, and you were bopping around in front of the mirror, headphones on, applying makeup while singing along quietly to yourself. He watched you for a moment, only drawing your attention when he sat up and you caught his reflection.

“Good morning” You looked at him in the mirror, and even though your makeup was only halfway done, he still thought you were utterly gorgeous. His first thought was how beautiful you were, but his exhausted brain couldn’t form a singular other thought yet. But you thought he was adorable, with his hair lovingly disheveled.

“It’s so early.” He knew you had been getting as little sleep as he had, barely 5 hours for 4 days in a row. How on Earth were you awake, up, and nice at this hour?

“You could probably go back to sleep for a few more minutes, we aren’t supposed to meet until 6:30.”

“No it’s ok, I usually like to read and drink my coffee before I have to get back to work. But what are you doing up so early?” He slumped over forwards, burying his face in his hands to rub his eyes. When he finally sat back up, he was reaching around to grab his glasses off the hotel nightstand, and you had to fight to keep from swooning.

“I was going to go get breakfast before we have to meet up with everyone, you can come with me if you want? I saw this place on the way here, it’s only like a block away. You can even bring your book, and I won’t bug you. I know not everyone’s chatty in the morning.”  You turned your attention back to your own reflection, and he hated the assumption that he would just ignore you over breakfast. Even if he hadn’t slept at all, he’d want to talk to you.

“I’ve been told I’m chatty all the time. Well chatty isn’t usually the word used, but that’s the sentiment–I’d love to go to breakfast with you.” 

“I like listening to you talk, for the record. But I’m going to finish up with my makeup while you get ready, ok?” 

“Ok.” He made no move to get ready, only starting to lean back further against the headboard. You had extra time this morning, but not quite that much. 

“That may require getting out of bed.”

“Ok.” He still made no move to get up, and you just laughed. He had to get up eventually, but you’d let him stay there if he felt like it. You could be a few minutes late for the morning briefing.

[moodymisty]

Hello I hope you are having a good week! I love your blog and anons so much <3 (The Horus feet post lives rent free in my head)

Your hc about Sanguinius having a secret possessive streak activated a neuron in my brain because its been stuck in my head for days and Im completely normal about him I promise :') my request:

His possessiveness rearing its head unexpectedly for the first time. To the point it even surprises him with how grumpy it makes him feel. His lover had only really been around him and his sons since theyd gotten together so he is caught off guard by this sudden anger.

She is meeting a few of his brothers for the first time at some kind of meeting and she laughing and smiling with Vulkan or maybe Fulgrim is being a little TOO friendly with her and Sanguinius just feels this red hot rage rip thru him without warning.

He goes to his lover and tensely bids his brother goodbye and herds her back to their shared quarters for some totally-normal-not-jealous-at-all sex (and a little bitey blood drinking) leaving her a total mess

If this is too specific, grumpy possessive vampire pigeon boyfriend is all I crave. Angry Sangy hits different...

Author's Note: Tried to write this normally and really struggled, so I decided to do a flashback style just to make it easier on me.

Relationships: Sanguinius/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Rough sex, Biting, Blood play, Possessive behavior

When you first awoke the feeling of lightheadedness overtook you immediately, and you drifted off asleep again for a short while longer.

After you woke for the second time, you noticed your Angel’s absence and leaned up to look around.

The Red Tear has been Sanguinius’ home for quite awhile now, and this trip back to Terra was well deserved. Even if much was unexpected.

A lot had changed in this time away. You first and foremost. He had left Terra with just his legion, and was now returning with a beloved at his side. It was very clear upon his arrival that this was the most interesting news.

Horus had been the first to greet him, giving him a friendly one armed hug. You had tucked yourself behind Raldoron when Sanguinius had waved for you to come forward, and put his hand on your shoulder. Raldoron stood close watch- on edge with an instinctive protectiveness triggered by your nervousness.

“I would like you to meet someone,”

Sanguinius had first told Horus. Horus then went and told Fulgrim. Fulgrim told Ferrus, who then complained to Vulkan. Vulkan was more chaste and didn’t gossip, but did say he was going to meet Sanguinius and his beloved upon passing Jaghatai.

Suddenly then all the Primarchs currently on Terra were crowding around his beloved sniffing around, and Sanguinius was furious.

You had only ever been around him and his sons since he had first fallen in love with you; To see others crowding around looking at you, asking you questions that teeter on the edge of too personal, watching as you struggle to keep your own head and answer without wilting under an unfamiliar primarch aura?

He hated it.

Seeing Vulkan smile at you made him want to throw his spear into his chest.

Seeing Fulgrim put a hand on your shoulder made him want to tear the Phoenician's throat out with his teeth.

Horus’ smile and jokes about you grounding the angel made him watch to wrap his hands around the Warmaster’s neck.

Sanguinius had snatched you and dragged you away the moment he had an opening to, pushing you in the direction of his Terran bedchambers.

'You smell like them.'

His nose wrinkled in disgust.

You should smell like him; The oil on his feathers, the scent of his own sweat and skin. Sometimes you smell like his sons when you are within a close proximity of them for awhile, which is less offensive that what it is currently, but not preferred.

He threw you into the bed, the messy unmade blankets bunching around you as fluffy down flies up. Sanguinius’ quarters are surprisingly messy, and his constant feather losses make the places he spends most a fluffy explosion of down and a few flight feathers.

He never spoke as he caged you under his body, looking down at you with a fierce gaze before his lips trapped your own. You felt the warmth of them, the way his tongue brushed against your lips and demands entry. His fangs are sharp- they nick your lips almost every time he deepens a kiss, and you end up with little droplets of blood on the inside of your waterline.

You can still fell the broken skin this morning, licking your bottom lip.

Something about him snapped, what was normally a gentle and soft man who touched you like you were made of glass suddenly was throwing you around, growling and snorting like little more than an animal.

'S-Sang-'

You could barely even finish his name as his fingers drove deeper into your cunt, and you could tell he was in a rush. Your grit your teeth and moaned, teetering on the knife's edge of pain too intense for you to enjoy, as his hot breath fanned over your skin and his fingers curled and beckoned you from deep inside your cunt. His lips hovered over the large vein of your neck, feeling the pulse of your racing heart just beneath your skin.

When he pulled them out you whimpered at the ache, the way your thighs shook along with your whole body. Sanguinius grabbed your hips and you sucked in air at the intensity, flipping you on your stomach.

'Up.'

When you don't understand his request immediately he gently rapped his hand over your ass and listened to you squeal out after the sound of smacked flesh rang out; Soon after you shifted to push your hips higher in the air for him.

You can still feel the echo of that lingering slap. You lay sideways in bed, wrapped in a thick red blanket trying to ignore the aches. You can still feel in your cunt the soreness as well, more than usual.

The feeling of the fat head of his cock popping past your entrance made you grit your teeth and whine, hands gripping the blankets. Sanguinius kept pushing, listening to your soft noises of half protest until he seated himself fully inside of you and his balls pressed against your clit.

The bruises of his harsh thrusts, hips slapping against your ass and forming a chorus of skin on skin, wet sounds of your cunt tightening and leaking around his cock- are still blossoming, if not in color but in pain.

Normally Sanguinius is gentle enough that you only get a muscle ache at most, but in his lack of self control you now struggle to get out of the bed and get dressed.

‘Their eyes may wander but yours won’t; You are mine.’

You felt the way he thrusts deep into you, slipping through your walls as the tip of his cock knocks against places untouched by everyone but him. The thick base of his cock stretched your entrance far enough that it almost burned, but in an almost pain that had tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and hiccuping moans in your throat.

Sanguinius is rarely rough; But when he is you feel like you can barely survive it, despite your cunt crying for more leaking around him like you’ve never wanted him more.

After he filled you to the brim and had your cunt throbbing with your heart beat from overstimulation, he pulled out of you and listened to the defeated, quiet whine as you feel the stretch from the head of his cock popping out of your entrance.

‘Tilt your head.’

You weakly let him in, feeling his hot skin fan over your own. He bites and listened to the way you hiss, whimpering in pain. He laps at your neck for a few moments before pulling away, finding a spot closer to your shoulder.

He bit again and again, each time enjoying the way your skin broke and blood flooded his mouth. When your eyes watered in pain his hand slipped between your legs to distract you, brushing over your throbbing clit and feeling the way your hole leaks his own cum onto his hand as well as your growing arousal as he toys with you.

Your neck still aches, and your head feels a bit light. You almost stumble walking out of his bedchambers, walking down the hall and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“My lady?”

You hear a familiar voice of the chapter master, who you presume is attempting to find Sanguinius same as you.

He quickly notices your somewhat disheveled state of dress and look, glancing over you curiously. His face is still stoic with only a slight layer of concern and curiosity.

“Are you alright?”

Raldoron comes closer and watches you nearly stumble, before righting yourself. He reaches a hand outward to steady you, but you don’t need it.

“Oh yes I’ll be fine, just tired. It was a long return trip to Terra.

You shift slightly and feel the ache in your neck- wincing in pain. Raldoron’s eyes drift downward, before his expression changes.

He suddenly has trouble making eye contact with you, which is odd. Raldoron is one of the more talkative of the Astartes you know. You reach up to rub your sore neck and feel skin-

You forgot to wear something to cover the marks.

Raldoron can see the full abuse Sanguinus- his genefather - had done to you the evening before, and is awkwardly standing there like it’s eating him alive.

“…Perhaps you should rest some more, my lady.”

Raldoron is clearly trying to avoid the subject, as are you. The sound of much heavier footsteps is like a savior in the darkest of times.

“There you are, my love.”

Sanguinus approaches, looking bright and alert with a lovely smile. He looks like he slept wonderfully, his face fuller and brighter. He greets Raldoron as well, before furrowing his brow as he notices the look on Raldoron’s face and the way you are pulling at the collar of your clothes.

“Is something wrong?”

[yaut-jaknowit]

"You had my curiosity... but now you have my attention..."

Prompt Idea?

Bring Forth Bountiful Lands

Pairings: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x Reader

Word Count: 3815

Summary: Deep in the forest, both you and Gawtin travel. She is in search of her weapons and ship to escape earth forever. Never to return. The two of you come upon a military base. Newly birthed mother and recently injured, surely she can't mean to face that place?! Gawtin doesn't back down.

Author Note: So, I took this in and used it for a part 3 for Gawtin and Reader's origin story. It's an amazing prompt! I just got stuck on where to use it and decided there was a great place!

Part 1 | Part 2

Masterlist

Ao3

Each left step brought forth a burning sensation. Your teeth grinded against one another while you pressed on. You had to or else… You suspected the alien would leave you behind. One of her hands was already full with the green glob of a child who was promptly asleep. Yet, with some sort of debt hanging in the air, you didn’t know what she may do to help. A chance you didn’t want to take. So, you pushed on despite the pain, limping along the forest you know so well.

Gawtin’s foot falls paused and forced you to stop as well. Her hand raised and signaled for you to stay quiet and still. You slowed your heaving breaths the best you could and fought through the pain surging inside of you. She scanned the air around her thoroughly, head turning.

Then, her hand dropped. Her footsteps began once more. You stumbled forward and had to lock your left knee to prevent yourself from collapsing. Yet, you persevered and forced yourself to shadow behind her towering form.

This went on for miles upon miles. The half moon risen to its halfway point in its pathing. It offered just enough light to see the ground ahead of you, missing any potholes or fallen trees.

The tears that once decorated your face had long dried up, leaving behind a sticky, crusty mess. If you had the energy or even a will, you would’ve wiped away the tears. Yet, it was pointless at this stage. Even the pain this far into the trek had began to numb, being pushed to the back burner for you to worry about at a later time.

There was no energy left to even speak to her, ask her what the plan was. At this point, all you knew was she hunted down by the government, gave birth to her child, then is heading back to a facility you didn’t even know existed this close to your cabin. There was also the fact she was an alien and attempting to steal back her ship and weapons. Here you were, stuck in the middle because you saved her from meeting a terrible end.

How naïve you are.

A fallen log caught your bad leg while you attempted to step over it. Your hands came out caught most of your weight before you could face plant into the ground.

Though you had caught yourself, you laid there on the ground, thinking about your life’s decisions. Nearly regretting coming up here for peace for only chaos to meet you in the end.

Green feet entered your vision. You turned your head to look up at the creature. She stared down at you, a disappointed expression in her eyes. A sigh left your chapped lips before you hoisted yourself back up to your feet in a careful manner.

Before you had the chance to fully return to your feet, a hand gulfed the back of your neck and logged up into the air. You flew for a second before landing harshly on a muscular shoulder, draped over it like a sack of potatoes. All the air in your lungs was forced out. You sucked in air and scrambled to get back onto the ground. Gawtin didn’t let you and placed a massive hand on the back of your thighs, effectively keeping you pinned.

“You are slow. Stay still,” her voice demanded complete obedience from you. You gulped and stopped moving, afraid of making the deadly alien mad. That was the last thing you wanted to do.  You squeaked out an ‘okay’, barely above a breath, and let the giant carry you.

The sway of each step was nearly lulling you to sleep. You couldn’t truly recall the last time you slept properly. The passing out the last two times didn’t count. Yet, the pain that continued to throb in your legs prevented you from getting any shut eye. You kept an eye on your surroundings behind her though as she walked. Not that the creature needed your help. Clearly, she was irritated by the fact she has to carry you since you can’t walk properly.

It wasn’t long after that she came to a stop again. You tried to use her back as leverage to see why. The angle didn’t allow you permission though. A huff left your nose. All you could do was just hang there and continuously be at her mercy.

Gawtin kneels down and allows you to softly slide off of her shoulder and return to the ground. Once on your feet, you look up at her then at the surrounding area. This wasn’t your property anymore. You return your gaze to the alien, mouth opening to speak. Her hand slaps over your mouth and prevented any sounds from escaping. Even a gasp that clawed at your throat.

Her massive head shook side to side. You rapidly nodded, understanding speaking was a no-go. Just follow and listen to her.

The hand released its hold on you. Gawtin returned to her full height and peered into the direction she was heading in. A finger pointed in the same direction. Your brows furrowed for a moment until you realized that’s the same way she was taking you. Another nod.

After getting your understanding, she started to stalk through the foliage, mindfully placing her feet. You attempted to shadow her each move, to watch out for any branches or leaves. It was hard to due to the size difference and the fact your thigh was begging for mercy, for a break. Not that you could get one.

Yet, somehow, someway, you made it.

She paused again and ducked behind a bush. You were quick to follow her lead and knelt down besides her, thankful for the weight off of your thigh. Questions clawed at your throat but you brushed them off, knowing you couldn’t. Not when you hear voices in the distance. Your entire body tightens up, eyes flickering up to the green alien.

All she does is ignore your presence and peeks over the bush. You struggle to do the same thing but finally see it.

A military base. In the middle of the forest, miles away from your property and cabin. There were people patrolling the area outside of the concrete walls that lined the base. Guns in their hands already. It seemed like they were already on high alert. Possibly from Gawtin’s escape. This must be where she escaped from.

Death and fear hung over your head like a heavy vale. Her wounds weren’t healed from before. Not with the most of two days to give them time to. It’s not either of you were in the best position to march straight into their base and take back her stuff.

Your thoughts came to a halt. What in the world were you thinking?! Like you could do a sliver of harm to any of these soldiers. You were an artist!

But, then, there’s Gawtin. Your gaze returns to the bulky form of the alien. If she can survive getting shot at, hunted down, and then give birth all in the span of a day, she’s clearly powerful. What can she take though? A military base? The soldiers within? It’s not like you can be of any help.

There are no weapons on her nearly bare body. Just the primitive looking material around her waist to cover herself up. All she had to bare was the claws on her hands and the deadly looking fangs that made up her face. Besides that, it was like bring a knife to a gun fight.

Carefully, you inched closer to her until you were next to her. “Is-“ A hand slapped over your mouth. A fierce look made you tremble in your spot. The purple of her eyes blazing with a demand for silence. Silence that you offered completely, understanding if you spoke, death could meet you the next second.

All you wanted to know if this is worth going in there and possibly dying. Was she willing to abandon her child to go retrieve some items? You looked at her like she was crazy before pressing your lips tightly together. It was pointless to argue with her when her mind was set on whatever was important enough to risk her life and safety. You see that clear as the day that awaking’s around you. So, you kept silent.

Her hand slipped off of your mouth with one last pointed look from the creature. Gawtin peered over the bush once more and scanned the area. You hunkered back down on the ground, mindful of your injured leg.

The concrete wall that surrounded the place looked ten feet tall, preventing anyone from breaching the perimeter. Except, there was a creature at least eight feet tall next to you. She could easily scale the wall and get inside. She could probably do a lot of damage before they down her.

Purple eyes drifted down to you and narrowed on your knelt form. Your heart began to race under the gaze of a predator. She stepped closer to you before leaning down and forcing her face into your space. You swallowed hard, afraid to move.

Whatever she was looking for, she must have found it before passing the child over to you. You took a sharp breath in and peer down at the bundle of joy held out towards you. More questions pulled at your tongue. You?! Of course, there was no other option besides yourself.

Timidly, you took the sleeping infant into your arms and snapped your gaze up at her. A question blazed in your eyes so brightly she understood without a word spoken. She nodded then glanced back at the base. With her hands, she motioned towards you then pointed at the ground. Stay here. You dipped your head. That, you could understand.

Wait, that meant… your brows pushed together. She was going to face the base by herself?! Weaponless, injured, recently gave birth. Fear entered your veins. Realization dawned on you.

The infant in your arms felt ten times heavier than before. All the possible outcomes pooled in your mind, swirling around like a whirlpool. If she were to die, then that would leave you with her child. A child you had no clue how to take care or raise. This wasn’t a human baby. This was an alien baby.

Your bottom lip was gnawed on as you were desperate to speak. Those voices you could hear only solidified the danger you were in. So, you kept quiet and observed.

The group of patrolling soldiers passed without issue. Then, Gawtin was sprinting across the open space. She was gone faster than you could even say her name. Her body moved gracefully despite her eight and some off numbers height. Before you knew it, she bounded up and over the wall. Gone from sight.

A silence engulfed you. A terrifying, dreadful silence that the forest produced.

That might have been the last time you would see Gawtin. You’ve only known her for a day and you were already worried sick. Not only about the fact you might have to care for her child if she died. But, the fact she might die by going head first into a military base. She seemed so smart! Why was she doing something so stupid?!

A whine nearly broke the stillness of the air before you caught it. You shifted on your tired, sore feet and hissed when pain shot through your leg. It was going to be a long day until Gawtin’s fate was revealed.

You sat down completely on the ground, legs out in front of you, and leaned against a tree. The child was still asleep. Was this normal? It’s been asleep for a while by the looks of it. Since it had quieted down after its birth, you haven’t heard much of a peep from it. You held it securely in one arm and used a finger to feel at its neck.

When a pulse point was found, strong and steady, relief flooded through you. It was alive. There was no cause for alarm now.

The blankets were pulled tighter on it’s tiny body, to fight off the cool elements of a fall morning. Even for yourself, it was brisk. The coat around your waist was a reminder you could fend off the cold. Yet, all that movement could alert any of the passing guards on your position. Plus, you didn’t want the infant to leave your arms. It was best if it stayed stilled without waking it up.

Every three minutes, a pair of guards would pass by you. Each time, your heart thundered in your ears. Was this the moment they somehow spot you through the foliage? That got you thinking. What would they do to you if they found you here? Especially with an alien child. Would they just kill you and take the child? You couldn’t stop your body from shuttering.

Why did you go out that night?! All of this could’ve been avoided. You wouldn’t be in a mess too far deep for you to deal with. Your head smacked against the bark of the tree.

Guilt hit you. But… without you, Gawtin could’ve died or been brought back to this place. Then, they would’ve gotten ahold of her and her infant. God, you were a terrible person for practically wishing that onto her. You sighed, shoulder sagging as you looked at the sky through the trees.

The sun rose through the sky, slowly passing onwards in the blue sky. With just the bag on your back and an infant in your arms, you didn’t have anything to pass the time. The last thing you wanted to do was move alert any of the guards to your position.

As the time continued mindlessly, you grew more and more worried about the fact their was no sign of Gawtin. One thing you counted as a good sign was there was no noise coming from the base. You suspected a loud alarm would sound if they found her. Since that hadn’t happened yet, you prayed for that to be a good sign. But hours have passed since you last heard from her.

Once the sun had passed the halfway mark in the sky, you had to move. Sitting in the same spot for the last few hours made your butt numb. The throbbing in your leg had dulled to a low irritation that you could push to the back of your mind. Thankfully. When you go to move, the pain surged forward, to the front of your brain. You gritted your teeth pushed yourself off of the ground.

The tree served as a barrier from the base. You shook off the tingling in your legs and butt, relief flooding you. You peeked around the trunk to find no one in sight. Carefully with your injured thigh, you hobbled away from the foliage used as a blind. It may not be smart to move but you needed to. The cramps in your legs were only getting worse. You were going to go crazy if you kept staring at the empty forest for a moment longer.

The swaddled infant in your arms squirmed. You stopped in your tracks, head snapping down to find bright light blue eyes staring into yours. One of its tiny grubby hands reached out towards your face and grasped at the air. The fearful expression that painted your features melted away at the adorable sight in your arms. It may look ugly with its alien face but it was a kind of ugly that was cute.

It gave a squeak and used both arms to reach for your face. When it couldn’t, a louder squeal passed it’s strange, nubby mandibles.

Your entire body tensed. That was alarmingly loud. Your eyes darted over to the area past the tree line.

Two soldiers. Both of their heads faced your direction.

That’s when you felt your heart drop to the floor, at your feet. It worsened when both of them began to walk towards the two of you. Fear drove you to stumble backwards. Your heel caught on an uneven part of the ground. A yelp escaped your chapped lips when your butt landed harshly on the unforgiving ground. Pain zipped up your leg. The throbbing became a forefront of your mind again. You gasped at the agony once more and nearly just gave up.

You steeled your nerves and clambered to your unsteady feet. That’s when you saw the soldiers had their guns raised. It felt like your heart was about beat out of your chest and land in your hands.

Only a moment passed before you spun on your heel and beelined away from them. There was no chance for you to run on your bad leg. The best you could offer was a half-jog, half-limp your way further into the forest. It wasn’t the greatest feeling on your injured leg with each left step that sent scolding pain up the limb.

Distance was gain though.

Until you heard the crunching of pine needles under boots gaining on you.

“There!” a gruff voice called out. You pressed the bundle closer to your chest and tried to quicken your speed.

Tears pooled on the corner of your eyes. The pain amounted even pass your limits. Adrenaline may fill your veins but even it couldn’t over shadow the agony that made up your left thigh. You panted heavily and pushed through the worst of it, fighting the forest and your body.

A thundering bang pierced the tension. Your legs gave out. You barely saved the infant on your elbows and felt the skin tear off.

Seconds passed until you were spun around. Now, on your back and staring up at the two imposing soldiers peering down at you. You began to cry and held the fussy infant firmly. “Don’t kill me!” you begged for your life and turned on your side, to shield the bundle away from their prying eyes.

A burning muzzle pressed against your shoulder. The barrel still hot. “What do you have?! Why are you out here?!” the same voice from before demanded and shoved the gun harder into you.

You gave a pathetic cry and rapidly shook your head to deny any wrong doing. “Nothing! I just got lost,” you lied straight through your teeth. It was a pathetic excuse, horrible. Yet, it was all your poor mind could make up in the moment. You grasped the blankets tighter, white knuckling the fabric.

One of them reaches out and grasps the blanket and gives a firm tug. You don’t relent.

No words were spoken to Gawtin but you weren’t going to let er child get taken away. It’s not like you thought this situation was going to happen.

One of your legs shot out and met the shin of the soldier fighting you. The man grunted and darkened his glare through his mask. Your breath hitched.

Before you had a chance to react, a fist met with the side of your face. Your head knocked against the ground, putting you into a daze. But, your arms didn’t even loosen a fraction. You groaned and blinked through your blurry vision.

The barrel found its way to your temple and left an indent. “Tell us. Why are you here?” a different voice grounded out. The gun was a fatal reminder of what would happen if you didn’t give up, didn’t give in to their demands. You painfully steeled your nerves again, teeth gritted, then turned your head to look at them.

One side of your lips curled up into a snarl. The fear inside of you was still ablaze but you couldn’t let them take the infant. “I got lost,” you repeated again, voice trembling despite your horrible excuse of a sneer. You knew it wouldn’t frighten any of them, but you had to stall and give yourself time to possible escape.

Click. The gun was loaded.

“Try that again or else you’ll met the business end again.” Confusion washed over you for a split second before a boot came down on your right leg. There was a sickening crunch that met your ears.

Screams surged past your lips as pain flooded your system. You began to pant, heavily sucking in all the available air in the area. It wasn’t enough. You felt like you were slowly suffocating, loosing the necessary oxygen needed for your brain to function. You writhe on the ground, barely paying attention to what was in your arms.

An ear shattering bellow pulled you from the depths of your agony. The ground underneath you shook with tremendous force. You blinked the majority of the tears away. Only to find a moss green blob landing a few feet away.

“Contact-ack!” Before the man could raise his weapon in defense, an arrow pierced his chest. The deadly tip thrusted through the other side of his ribcage. It was still firmly logged inside of him.

Gun fire only last two seconds. Then, silence filled the air. One broken by your heavily sobs and painful breaths.

The fall of two bodies didn’t even faze you. You curled up into a ball of agony and protection. Your entire body shuttered and trembled. The pain and adrenaline running its course through your form. All you knew though was you had to protect the child who was crying up a storm.

Hands gripped your shoulder and leg, prying your curled form open. You reopened your eyes to find the mother towering over your form, cradling and soothing her baby.

Relief surged inside of you.

Gawtin, a slightly bloody mess, was back. Adorned in primitive looking armor. She looked deadlier than before.

You laid flat on the ground. It hurt to move. There was something terribly wrong with your leg. You didn’t even need to look at it to know that the soldier had snapped it. Then, there was a new burning sensation crawling up your other thigh. As if you had been shot. Again. You gave pitiful whimper, eyes sliding shut.

An unknown amount of time past as you suffered on the ground before something was placed in your lap. You didn’t even have the energy to open your eyes. Whatever happened, happens. Death was either going to greet or Gawtin may save your life.

“You had my curiosity. Now, you have my attention,” her words were muffled in your ear. You grunted, the only intelligent answer you could give.

Arms curled under the backs of your knees and your shoulder blades. The ground left you. One of your eyelids cracked open. Gawtin held you in her arms while her baby was cradled on your stomach. You gave a hum before the pain and exhaustion swallowed you whole.

[gretavangroupie]

Drift

Word count: 7.2k+

Pairing: Josh x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fluff.

 “Two percent?!” you screech.

Looking down at the cellphone in your lap as you follow the winding directions you see the red battery icon and your anxiety starts to bloom. Your signal has been spotty at best and the constant in and out of service has drained your battery quicker than anticipated. With another hour to go you are starting to panic. Of course your phone would die while you are somewhere in the mountains. 

It started snowing last night, and unfortunately has stuck around. So when the snow didn’t stop this morning you knew you would be in for an eventful drive home. Six inches turned into ten very quickly, and the roads were becoming slick. Your little sedan was not equipped for this type of weather, something you were pretty sure you wouldn't experience in Nashville but boy were you wrong.  

The two lane road you found yourself upon currently was slightly off the beaten path, on the side of a mountain. Houses sprinkled in here and there, with their long winding driveways, painted white in a wintery scene. In different circumstances you would think it was quite beautiful, but right now, your white knuckle grip on the steering wheel has made you feel differently. Your windshield wipers are going full blast, further obscuring your view of the winding back road. You glance down to your phone to check the directions.

Four miles until you turn right.

As you read the directions out, you're met with a loud thump as your car moves 60 miles per hour over a perfectly placed pot hole, jostling you, your car and its contents.

“Shit!” you cry out as your head bounced back on the headrest.

Reaching down to pick your phone up off the floor, you type in your password and unlock it. But that was all it took. That measly 1% was gone in an instant. Panic swept over you, all you knew was that you had 4, maybe 3 miles now until you turn right. But what about the rest of the directions?

Okay, next shopping center I see, I will stop and grab a car charger. 

The snow is falling quickly, and the sun is setting, leaving you to only rely on the light from your hi beams. You swallow thickly as you squint to see the lines on the road. You haven’t seen a car pass you in what feels like forever. 

I knew it was a bad idea to get off the interstate.

You saw it, but it was too late. You couldn't react in time. If you slammed on your breaks your car would go sliding into the ravine. So you hit it. Whatever it was. It looked like a crow bar or some type of bent metal. That's what it sounded like too. As your car met with the object you heard a loud popping and you knew your night just got ten times worse. Your car began to limp further down the road with a metallic clatter against the wet asphalt.

You see a driveway in the distance and decide to push forward to pull into it, against your better judgment. As you pull off into the entry of the long driveway you put your car in park and immediately get out and see that your front left tire is completely blown out. The combination of the pothole earlier, and whatever that metal thing was, has left you stranded in the drift of someone's driveway. 

You get back into your car and grab your phone, realizing that it died 15 minutes ago. As you sit back into the seat you rub your hands over your face and wonder what you did to deserve this. You turn on your hazard lights and pray that someone drives by and stops. But you know the likelihood of that happening is slim. Anyone with half a brain knows better than to drive in conditions like this. 

As you wrack your brain for what to do, it occurs to you. 

Maybe, there is someone in the house at the end of this driveway…

You know that this area that you are in is home to most peoples vacation homes, tucked deep into the side of the mountain. The chances of someone being here are small, but not zero. You grab your coat out of the backseat and put it on. From the looks of it, this driveway is fairly long and the snow is piled high and growing by the minute.

Turning off your car, you grab your dead cell phone, and your keys and get out. Now that the sun had set it was dark, and the wind was cutting like a thousand knives. You lock your useless car and shove your keys into your coat pocket. You pull your hood over your head and thank yourself for choosing a pair of sensible boots this morning. 

As you walk the long snowy, gravel lined driveway you think to yourself that it must be a mile long, and uphill at that. Just as you think it could stretch on for another mile, you see a soft yellow light ahead of you. A light is on in the house. 

Oh my god, someone is here.

Knowing that the house more than likely is warm, has your feet picking up their pace and landing you at the edge of the trees, opening up to the clearing where the occupied house sits. There is one car parked outside of the house and you can hear the soft vibrations of noise from inside. The house is large, old, and wooden. You can see that there are two stories and the ivy growing on the side of the house gives it a certain type of rustic charm you don't see too often anymore. There is smoke filling the air, coming from a chimney, and huge glass windows adorn the entire front of the house.  

As you step up to the porch you brush the snow off of your coat and hood, pulling your frozen hand out of your pocket and nervously knocking on the black wooden front door.  

The large glass window set into the door has you holding your breath as you see a figure approaching from across the house. Pulling a hoodie over their torso, they peer through the glass to see you standing there and run their hand over their face, as the door opens.

“How did you get this address?” he says. 

You nervously stare back at him, “I– I didn’t…my car –I hit something. My phone is dead– I…” you stammer.

“You hit something?!” he asks, shocked.

“Yeah, it was dark, and the snow – I couldn't see. I think it was a crowbar or something.” you reply anxiously.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking concerned.  

“Yeah, I am okay. I am so sorry to bother you. My front tire blew out and my phone is dead so I can’t call Triple A…Do you think I could borrow your phone or, could you call, or…” you stammer.

“Yes, absolutely, come in. It’s freezing.” he says, opening the door. You can feel the warmth radiating from inside and graciously step into the house.

“Do you have your phone? I can plug it in?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah!” you say fumbling into your coat pocket and handing him the freezing device. 

“My god, your hands are freezing! Here, come sit here by the fire.” he says, leading you from the front door, and into the open, spacious living room. He points to the couch next to the fireplace and says he will be right back. He runs up the wooden staircase and you can hear some banging around upstairs before you see him quickly flying back down the stairs, waving a phone charger in his hand. 

You look around the house, and are intrigued by the charm of the renovated old home. The cobblestone fireplace, the wooden beams adorning nearly every inch of the walls and ceiling. It’s a split level home but it has an open floor plan, granting you visual access to almost every part of the house. Small sets of stairs lead to various rooms and loft areas. It’s a very uniquely designed floor plan, and you are interested in the history of the home. Admiring its charming old quality, your eyes flit around but stop when you see the massive windows. You are instantly taken with the wall of windows providing a picturesque view of the snowy scene outside. It’s very charming and you find yourself relaxing into the cozy couch by the fireplace, staring into the snowy sight. 

“Better?” he asks, walking down the steps into the living room, before sitting in a chair across from you. 

Realizing how you must look, you shoot straight up and fix your posture. “Oh, yeah. Yes. Thank you. This is a really cool home.” you say nervously fidgeting with your coat. 

“Oh, thank you, I moved in about two years ago now. Still fixing things up here and there. Trying to bring it up to date without losing its rustic qualities.” he smiles. “I’m Josh by the way.”

“Oh, god, how rude I didn't even ask your name before I made myself at home on your couch.” you laugh. You introduce yourself and shake his hand, which is much warmer than yours and oddly soft. The room is dimly lit by the floor lamp in the corner and the small fixtures illuminating the bookcase in the upstairs loft. The fireplace is glowing brightly behind you. You can see the flames dancing along rhythmically in his eyes. Honey brown and glossy, he must have been drinking before you interrupted his night. 

“When my phone turns on, I will call Triple A and I’ll be out of your hair in no time.” you say biting your lip.

“What in the world are you doing driving in this weather?” he asks.

“I was driving back home. I went to visit my parents for the week. The traffic on 40 was so bad, I decided to take a back road thinking it would be faster, but then I got lost and my phone was dying, then this happened... It was not a good choice in hindsight.” you laugh. 

“You’re brave. I’m from Michigan and even I wouldn’t be driving right now.” he smiles, his cheeks scrunching tightly beneath his eyes.

He is sort of…cute. Maybe in different circumstances…

“I know, it’s not too much farther…I think? I feel really bad that I interrupted your night.” you say pointing to the movie that is paused on the TV screen.

“Ahh, don’t worry about it. I’ve seen it a thousand times.” he says, waving his hand in the air.

You focus on it, and recognize the character on the screen. “Is– Is it A Clockwork Orange?” you ask, suspiciously.

He seems taken aback as he replies, “Yeah. Yeah it is…” a twinkle of intrigue in his eyes.

“Cool, that's a great film.” you say, politely.

A small smile forms at the side of his mouth, “Yeah, it really is...” he looks like he wants to say more, but stops himself.

Why do I feel like I am supposed to be here?

“Well, I should go see if my phone is turned on. I have bothered you long enough.” you say standing up, and walking up the small set of stairs into the kitchen. 

“It’s on the kitchen counter by the fridge.” he calls out to you.

As you grab your phone you see it has come back to life, and you quickly dial out the number for Triple A. You lean over onto the counter as the call rings out. You stare out the windows at the snow still continuing to fall and explain to the man on the phone exactly what happened.

“What do you mean…But I don’t…. I can’t get anywhere…. Okay. Alright. Yeah, thank you.” you end the call staring at the screen dumbfounded. 

As you stand there silently trying to figure out your next move you see Josh walk into the kitchen to join you at the counter. He leans his hip onto the countertop, facing you.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, his curly brown hair falling onto his forehead. 

You turn to face him and with a blank face you set your phone back on the counter. “No. Apparently they can’t send any trucks out until the morning after they plow the roads. The snow is too bad on the mountain?” you question.

He shakes his head, “Yeah, I was afraid of that. Listen, I don’t want to sound forward but, you are welcome to stay here until the morning. I have a guest room, and anything you might need.” he says kindly.

“Oh wow, that is so nice of you to offer, but I really feel like I am intruding. I mean, you don’t even know me.” you say. 

“The alternative is what? You sleeping in your freezing cold car? No. I know we don’t know each other, but I am a human being and from one human being to another, please. Stay. You can leave as soon as you’d like in the morning. They should have the roads plowed by 7:00.” he says, scratching the back of his neck. 

You stop for a second to think, but something is pulling you to stay. 

“Are you positive that I am in no way putting you out?” you ask, hesitantly.

“Absolutely not. Glad to lend a helping hand. I mean, you must be alright if you knew I was watching A Clockwork Orange.” he smiles.

You nod your head, agreeing and his face lights up with a smile.

“Should we… finish it?” he asks. You bite your lip and stare at him. You know his brown puppy dog eyes have never been rejected in his life. You can feel it.

“Okay, I guess we could. But can I use the bathroom first?” you ask.

“Oh, of course. If you step through that guest room, it’s in there.” he says pointing across the kitchen. 

“Thank you.” you say nervously.

As you make your way into the bathroom, you quickly relieve yourself and wash your hands, noticing the eclectic artwork hanging on the walls in the bedroom. He has very interesting taste in furniture and decor, but it kind of fits the feel of the house perfectly.  As you make your way back into the living room you step down into the warm space, and see Josh waiting for your return sitting on one side of the couch with his feet crossed on the coffee table. 

“All good?” he asks, he has noticed you have removed your coat and grants you a smile.

“Yeah, thanks. I am sure you didn’t see your night going this way.” you laugh as you sit down on the opposite side of the couch. But you feel it. A magnetism to be closer to him. 

What? You don't even know him…

“You’re right I didn’t but I’m kinda glad it did.” he smirks with sultry eyes.

Maybe he feels it too…

You feel your cheeks blush as he unpauses the movie, and it roars back to life. 

You spend the next hour talking instead of watching the movie, discussing the theories surrounding it and even further discussing Stanley Kubrick. You have a lot of the same opinions on his work and career. Josh is super knowledgeable about film making and even tells you how it was always his dream to be a filmmaker himself. Your heart warms at the fact that he is passionate enough to tell a complete stranger about his dreams.

You talk until the fire in the fireplace dies down and you find yourselves sitting in a dark living room, lit only by the small lamps on the book case. 

He looks over at you and stares for a second, “Let me go grab you some clothes for you to sleep in, I'll be right back.” 

“Oh, that's not necessary, I will be okay, really. I can just sleep in this.” you reply.

“Please, I insist.” he says standing and walking up the stairs, his bare feet padding up the wooden steps. 

You stand awkwardly in the living room, waiting for him to return. You walk over to the windows and stare out at the snow, still falling. You walk back into the living room, and notice the bookcase on the second floor loft. You look around to see if Josh is coming back and when you see that he isn't, you make your way up the stairs and over to the full book shelves. 

Browsing the titles you see a lot of classics. You run your index finger over the spines, stopping on names you recognize. The leather bound books are beautifully displayed and lit with tiny sconces on the front of the shelves. Bending down to look at the next row of books, you are surprised when you notice Josh standing next to you.

“Well, what do you think? Any good ones?” he laughs.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn't mean to pry. Well, actually. Maybe I did.” you smile. “But yeah, all the classics, you are well read.”

“I spend a lot of time traveling, and books are a great way to pass the time. I pull a lot of inspiration from these old books.” he says. He reaches a stack of clothes out to you and your hands brush his. You both recoil and look at each other like you have been zapped by lightning.

Surely he felt that?

You grab the stack from him, and look down. “Thank you.”

He bites his cheek like he wants to say something, but again, doesn’t.

“Come on, I will show you the guest room and get you some blankets.” he says, gesturing for you to follow him.

After a few minutes he has retrieved a few blankets for you and provided you with an extra phone charger, handing them to you with a soft smile. In the dim lighting you can see the dimple that forms in his cheek, perfectly situated above a tiny scar.

“I will turn the heat on a little warmer, sometimes it gets cold because of the windows. If you need me, I’m at the top of the stairs to the left.” he smiles, and shuts the door behind him.

You sit on the bed examining the pile of clothes he has so graciously brought you. A long sleeve white tee shirt and a pair of well loved sweatpants. You peel your clothes off of you, and slide into the much comfier attire. Maybe he was right, this will be warmer.

You plug your phone into the charger and spread the extra blanket over the twin size bed. You flip the switch on the wall and climb into the bed. You lay there hearing the wind whip against the old house. You think about your evening and how it went so completely different than you imagined. You are sleeping in a stranger's bed? The room is quiet except for the sound of the snow falling on the windows. You drift off to sleep and think of the beautiful curly haired man sleeping right above you. 

You wake yourself up shivering. Your eyes open and you're met with total darkness. The light from the alarm clock long gone, the air growing colder by the second. The distant whirr of the refrigerator reduced to nothing. The power must have gone out. Your feet are frozen, hands too. Trying to pull the blankets closer to yourself you realize they are already as close as they could be. Your body shivers under the sheets. If only you had some socks you could make it through until morning. 

You lay there for a few minutes trying to rub your feet together to create some warmth, but nothing was working. Your brain remembers the fire in the living room. It had been a few hours since it had gone out, but surely the hearth was still warm. You grab your phone, and turn on the flashlight, illuminating the floor below you. You quietly twist the door knob on the old door, and tiptoe through the hallway into the kitchen. Looking around, you see that the power is definitely out. Walking quietly down the small set of steps you find a place on the hearth of the fireplace, only to find that it too, has grown cold.

Rubbing your freezing cold hands together you think back to what Josh told you. ‘If you need anything, I’m up the stairs to the left.’ You think about going up there to ask for socks but quickly talk yourself out of it. As you look out the large windows it seems the snow has finally stopped falling, but it has accumulated quite a few inches. More than likely making the power fail. 

You scroll through your phone on the couch, but your service is weak. You can't get anything to load. Tiredness begins to creep in on you as the stinging stiffness in your hands and feel remind you of their temperature. 

Okay, just do it. Just go ask for some socks. Tell him the power is out. He will understand. 

Setting your phone on the coffee table you swallow deeply and quietly make your way up to cold wooden stairs. When you reach the landing you turn to his door, which isn’t a door at all. There is no door, it’s just an open archway. The sight in front of you nearly takes your breath away. He has a fireplace up here, and it is still glowing with embers. Your legs carry you over to it where you place your hands and are greeted with the feeling of warmth. 

Inadvertently you release a sigh as you feel your extremities warming. You hear the bed rustle behind you and you flip around, not even fully realizing that you are standing in this mans bedroom. He leans up on his arm, and you can see his eyes slowly opening as he sees you standing in front of his bed. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks, his voice light and groggy. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just– the power went out, and I was so cold I was just going to come ask you for some socks…” you stammer. “But then I saw the fireplace from the doorway, and my legs carried me here. I thought maybe if I could just warm my hands and feet I would be okay.”

He peels the blanket off of himself and stands up pushing his hair out of his face. His body clad in only his black boxer briefs, showcases his chiseled torso, glowing in the fireplace embers. You have to peel your eyes off of him as he walks across the room. 

He returns a minute later with a pair of wool camping socks, “For your feet.” he says, handing you the socks. You reach out to grab them and his hand brushes yours sending that same electricity through your system.

“My god, you are freezing!” he says. How long have you been awake and cold?” 

Bending down to pull the socks over your feet you answer, “I’m not sure, maybe twenty minutes?” 

“Why didn’t you come up here sooner?” he asks, grabbing your cold hands in his warm ones, rubbing them together to attempt to warm them. 

“Well, you were already nice enough to let me stay here, I didn't want to wake you up too.” you say bashfully. Your eyes travel down his body and back up. “Aren’t you… cold?” you ask.

“No, I’m a warm sleeper.” he answers.

“Ah, that sounds nice.” slips from your mouth before you even can register what you’ve said.

You clamp your hand over your mouth in regret and he smiles, a giggle almost leaving his chest.

“You know, I figured I would lose power. I’m not surprised. How about this… why don’t you stay up here? I will throw another log on, and we can both be warm.” he says, with innocent eyes. 

Your eyes travel to the bed behind him, plush with white fluffy duvets and blankets. 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as he goes to speak again, “It’s a big bed. We won’t even touch. I just won’t be able to sleep if I know you’re down there shivering.”

He bends over and tosses another log onto the embers, poking it with the fire poker until it lights. Feeling the warmth on your back, you look back to him. “Okay, but only because I am freezing.”

“I know. I’ll get you warm, don’t worry.” he smiles. 

He walks over to the other side of his bed, pulling back the blankets and gesturing for you to slide in. He pulls the thick blankets over you and nods his head as he tucks you in.

Wow. 

You can’t even think of a time when someone took care of you like this. It’s kind of sweet.

He walks back to the fireplace and prods the log making sure it won’t roll off, and closes the mesh divider. 

He makes his way back to the bed, returning to the warm spot he left only minutes ago, sighing in relief as warmth washes over him as he pulls the duvet back over his now slightly chilled body. 

He rolls to face you, though you are on your back, eyes cast to the ceiling. You can feel his eyes staring into the side of your head, so you turn your head to look at him. The room is dark, the only light coming from the small flames in front of the bed. The orange hues dance across his cheeks, highlighting his cheekbones, and producing a sparkle in his tired eyes. 

“Do you feel it?” he whispers.

You feel your heart leap in your chest as your breath catches in your throat, “What?” you ask, nervously.

“The fire, do you feel it?” he asks.

God…

“Oh, yeah, I do. Thank you… for letting me stay up here. This is beyond…hospitable.” you reply, turning your body to face him in the bed. 

“Are you warming up?” he asks, the log crackling in the fireplace. 

“Yes, I’m starting to. I think it will take longer for my hands and feet.” you giggle.

“Here,” he says, reaching across, grabbing your hands and clasping them tightly between his. “Mine are plenty warm.”

You feel the electricity traveling through your body, and from the look on his face, he feels it too. A light hum leaves your chest as the warmth of his hands works quickly to heat your own.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, you are positive that he can see the pink blush creeping across your cheeks as you stifle a nervous smile.

“Yeah, it does. You’re lucky you’re so hot.” the words falling from your lips before you can stop them, something that seems to be happening far too often. 

A smirk flashes across his face as you stumble trying to correct yourself. “Warm, I meant warm. Not hot. I’m sorry... But, not that you aren’t hot, you are. Really. But–I meant…I’m not making this better am I...” you sigh.

“No, you know what? I think it’s perfect.” he says, his hand gripping yours, thumbs gently exploring the valleys and peaks of your knuckles.

“You do?” you ask quietly.

“Mhmm…” he hums. The rumble from his chest sends a shiver through your body.

You can feel your body temperature rising, but it isn’t from the fire. Josh’s hand releases yours and your eyes flick down as he pulls them away. He notices your furrowed brow and looks up at you.

“I told you we don’t have to touch.” he smirks, rolling to his back, positioning his hands behind his head. You roll back to your back, mimicking his actions. 

You both lay there in silence for a few minutes. You can hear the wind whipping against the windows, the thought causing you to shiver. You let your eyes travel the length of his body under the sheets and you bite your cheek as you meet his bare chest moving slowly up and down with each breath.

Pursing your lips together, you let your foot wander across the bed until it makes contact with his. You let the tips of your toes trace the curve of his ankle, as you watch a small smile play upon his lips. 

He turns his foot to meet yours, rubbing slowly over the top of yours as he twists his body to face you again. He places his hand next to his face on the pillow, pushing down the fluffy feather filled fabric, “So you do want to touch?”

You turn your body to face him, letting your foot slide up his leg, feeling the soft hairs tickle you. “Maybe a little…” you answer.

“You feel it too, don't you.” he asks. But this time, you know he isn’t talking about the fire. 

“Feel what, Josh…” you say in a playfully sultry tone.

“This.” He grabs your arm and pulls you as close to him as possible, his bare chest pressed directly to yours. 

Your legs intertwine with his as his hand cradles the back of your neck. Yours rests on his warm chest. He really wasn’t kidding about the warm sleeper thing.

Your fingertip traces the line of his collarbone as your eyes flick up to his, “Yes…I feel it too.”

You feel his breath on your forehead and you sink into him, as his body heat warms you quickly.

Feeling bold, you press a barely there kiss to his throat, stretched taut over your head. You feel his Adam's apple bob against your lips as your lips connect with his skin. His legs twitch against yours and you feel a warmth creeping down your center.

A closed mouth groan rumbles through his chest as his grip on you tightens. You have never made the first move, but tonight wasn’t a normal night. He was a stranger. A beautiful, warm stranger and you had already taken the first chance by knocking on his door.

You feel him hardening against your stomach and you smile up at him. His eyes have grown dark with want and you know yours probably look the same. “Josh…” you ask.

“Hmmm…” he hums into the top of your head.

“You know you could have just started a fire downstairs… I could have slept on the couch.” you say.

“You’re right. I could have, but I knew both of us weren’t going to fit on the couch.” he replies, voice soft as velvet.

“So you did want me in your bed…” you tease.

“From the second you asked me if I was watching A Clockwork Orange…” he says.

You crane your neck, lips furiously in search of his. You would be lying if you said you didn't catch yourself staring at his plush pink lips all night as he spoke of his passions. Thought about how they would feel, how they would taste. You thought about kissing the tiny scar you noticed on his cheek in the guest room. But nothing you imagined came close to how he actually felt. How he actually tasted. His tongue slides across your bottom lip as it begs for entry into your mouth. Slightly parting your lips he slides in, his tongue searching for yours.

You twist your fingers into his curly hair and it’s softer than you imagined. His lips pull away from yours and you whine at the loss of the heat of his tongue against yours. His lips connect with your jaw and neck as you scratch your nails against his scalp. You feel him hum against your neck as you pull on his hair, begging him for more. 

“You like that?” he murmurs against your skin. 

“Yes… kee– keep going…” you beg.

“God you’re sweet. I have to know you.” he says, as his kisses travel further down your neck. You feel his warm hand slide underneath the hem of the borrowed white shirt. His hand radiates heat across the sensitive skin of your stomach burning a path as it travels up. 

His eyes look to yours for permission, and he takes your deepend kiss as a yes as his hand connects with your hardened nipple. A moan leaves your mouth and travels into his and he rolls the taut flesh between his thumb and forefinger. 

He releases it as he grabs a handful of your breast, massaging the pliable skin. Sliding your knee upwards between his legs, you feel his full erect length straining through his boxers. You press your pelvis into his causing him to groan and pull you in tighter. 

“I want you to know me Josh, all of me.” you say, reaching down to grasp him in your hand. 

“Are you sure?” he asks.

You detach your lips from his neck as you respond with a nod, “Didn’t you say you would warm me up?”

“I did say that, didn’t I…” he teases, lifting the hem of the shirt to pull it over your head. As you lay there next to him, the orange glow of the fireplace reflects onto your skin.

“Shit, you are…for once I don’t have words.” he smiles.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” you laugh.

“Good. I always have words. My brothers give me shit for it all the time. But you have me speechless…” he says with a smile.

You blush, and you're positive that even in the dark room he can see it. His dimple shows through and you pull his neck down to connect your lips with his once more. 

Your hands travel down his sides, feeling his soft smooth skin beneath your hands. Supporting himself with one hand next to your head, the other hand skims to the top of the black sweatpants, teasing the sensitive skin across your hip bones.

He hooks a finger into the waistband and tugs downward pulling them to rest at your knees. You kick them the rest of the way off, leaving you bare beneath him.

“I can’t believe you got a flat in front of my house. I can’t believe I was actually here.” he says as if thanking God for his good fortune. 

“Why wouldn’t you be here?” you whisper.

“I travel a lot. I’m not here probably six months out of the year.” he answers.

You know you want to dive deeper into that at a later time, because right now, you need him. Like you need air. Lungs burning from not having him. 

You look directly into his beautiful brown eyes as you quickly rid him of his boxers. He kicks them off and your eyes travel down his chest to see the outline of his length glowing in the fire light between you.

He drops down to place wet kisses over your stomach and hips. Stopping and looking up at you as he presses a kiss to the mound between your legs. His tongue slips out and licks a warm path up your center causing you to breath sharply at the contact. Your hips flex backwards as your body silently begs for more friction. He pushes your legs apart slightly as he repeats the same motion, a sigh releasing from your chest. 

His tongue pointedly circles around your clit, you groan becoming more audible. His hand reaches up and grabs yours placing it on the top of his head. He wants your hands in his hair and you willingly oblige. 

Weaving your fingers through the curls you find yourself instinctively pressing down on his head to bring him closer. A growl racks through his chest. 

“Josh… I….” you whine.

His lips detach from you, “I know beautiful, give it to me. I want it.” he demands.

His tongue begins to furiously swipe against you and within seconds you are free falling into your release bucking your hips up into his mouth. The moan from your chest echoing through the silent house. As you float there in the darkness you feel his mouth leave you, and once you’re fully back, you feel him pressing kisses to your thighs. 

“Josh…I want you.” you say, pulling him up to hover over you. 

He presses a soft kiss to your lips, “You can have whatever you want, as long as you keep making pretty sounds like that.”

Gripping his dick in your now much warmer hand, you pull him to you, pressing him against your soaked core. 

You let go as he takes the lead, slowly sliding into you with a whispered ‘fuck.’

You adjust to him quickly, almost as if your body had been waiting for him since the minute he opened the door. His curls hang down his forehead as he sets a steady pace moving back and forth inside of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you as your lips find his. You can taste yourself, but more, you can taste him. His essence. You can smell his earthy scent, pouring from his skin. Like a mix of damp wood and sweet vanilla. 

He rolls his hips into you eliciting a moan from your mouth. He does it again receiving the same response and a smile crosses his face. His thrusts become harsher, hitting the spot you so desperately need him to hit, and he does. Flawlessly. Your moans fill the air in the room. 

“I have heard so many things in my life, but god damn if this one isn’t my favorite.” he says, punctuating the sentence with the most sinful groan and you tighten around him. 

“Fuck… just like that gorgeous.” he says pressing deeper with each thrust.

“Josh, fuck…” you whine.

“You gonna give me another one baby? I want it…Need to feel you cum on my cock.” he pants. His hips begin to falter, thrusting wildly and inconsistently. You can tell he is close and you’re not far behind him. 

You squeeze around him as your fingernails dig into the soft skin of his back.  “Please, harder.” you beg.

Sweat drips down the side of his neck as he bites his bottom lip, thrusting into you harder than he has been, the smack of skin ringing through the vaulted ceilings. “Fuck, you want it hard baby? God you’re fucking perfect.” his hips snapping into you repeatedly like a rubberband. 

You toss your head back as you feel your stomach tightening. 

“Ahhh… fuck you’re squeezing me so fucking good… I won’t last much longer, I need you to cum for me angel. Let me have it.” he begs.

His words send you spiraling into your second release, tensing around his cock so hard, that he meets his own ending. You feel him pulsing inside of you. Groaning with each spurt your name falling from his lips like a prayer. 

His breathing is erratic as he collapses onto your chest, his messy curls tickling your face. You giggle as you push them away from your nose. He rolls off on you and onto his pillow, turning his head to face you as his breathing evens out. 

He pulls you close to him, your head laying on his chest. You listen to his heart beating and feel the rise and fall of his chest. His fingers run through your hair, occasionally twisting a strand around his finger, feeling the silkiness of it between his digits. His fingertips massage your scalp practically putting you to sleep.

“You live in Nashville, right?” he asks, finally breaking the silence.

You nod your head against his chest. “I do.”

“Good.” he replies.

You kiss his chest and he places a kiss on the top of your hair, letting his arm fall loosely around your back. Sleep overtaking both of you, finally warm.

When your eyes open, you see daylight. It is bright, brighter than usual. The sky is gray and heavy with snow clouds, an ominous reminder of what looks to be another snow storm impending. Sitting up, you find yourself still in the king size bed in Josh’s room. You see now in the light of day, the entirety of the wall of windows that overtakes the back portion of his home. His bedroom opening up to the bright light of the day as soon as the sun would begin to rise. You see that he has gone from next to you, and you bite your lip, wondering if he regrets what happened. 

You pull yourself out of the warmth of the bed and redress yourself in the borrowed clothes flung onto the floor with haste last night. You make his bed, a gentle thank you, for him to find later, before you step out of the doorway and make your way down the shiny wooden steps. 

The power is back on, evident by the smell of the coffee pouring out of the kitchen. You look around the house but you don’t see Josh. Where did he go?

You walk to the coffee pot situated next to the stove, and begin opening the cabinet doors looking for a mug. Settling on a blue mug with the state of Michigan on it, you pour the steaming hot liquid into the mug, breathing in deeply the invigorating scent. 

You carry the hot mug into the guest room, setting it on the bedside table as you change back into your own clothes. A few minutes later as you reemerge with the empty mug, you see Josh standing at the counter. He has on a sweatshirt and pants, and his hands are dirty. His cheeks are flushed pink from the cold outside air.

“I was wondering where you went.”  you say sheepishly, placing your mug on the counter. 

“I woke up and decided, ‘Who needs Triple A’... I can do it. So I went and dug your car out of the snow, and changed your flat. I have to admit, I haven’t had to do anything like that in a while. Probably since I was home in Michigan. It may have taken me longer than it should but … it was kinda nice. But I will admit it was hard to peel myself away from you this morning.” he smiles.

“You didn’t have to do that!” you implore, “Gosh I feel so bad, I already feel like I have imposed so much!”

Peeling his hoodie off, he rushes to you. “You weren’t an imposition. You were the unexpected surprise I needed. The best surprise.” he says, grabbing your hands. “Last night was…perfect and I want to see you again. In fact I don’t even want you to go.” he says shyly.

“Really?” you ask, nervously.

“Yeah, but I understand you probably need to…” he says looking down to the floor. Your heart clenches realizing how nervous he is, and that’s when you decide.

“I actually have nowhere to be… but… I do need a shower and I’ll probably need some clothes.” you smirk.

“You know…I think I can help with that.” he smiles.

You peer out the window behind him, snow flurries just beginning to fall as you ask, “Have you ever seen 2001: A Space Odyssey? I feel like you’d like it…”

He shakes his head in amazement as a smile spreads across his face, making way for his perfect dimple. With his look suddenly turning to a devilish grin, he throws you over his shoulder and carries you up the stairs, laughing the whole way. 

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[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Poor Competition

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: fluff, minor angst

Summary: You and Derek have butted heads ever since you started at the BAU. Your team sets both of you up so that you're forced to confront your problems instead of running from it.

Square Filled: team dinner (2022) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

No one wants to say it out loud but they’re so sick and tired of your and Derek’s behavior lately. All everyone wanted to do was have a nice dinner together to celebrate the success of the most recent case, but you two are ruining it by bickering every five minutes. If it’s not about the food, it’s about each other's clothes. If it’s not about where the other lives, it’s about your work success.

You hate doing this to your friends but nothing you say will make Derek see that he is the one in the wrong. Every time you try to put your two cents in, Derek just has to comment about why he’s better than you. Derek did this, Derek did that. Derek is the one who caught the unsub even though it was your idea on how. Derek is the one who figured out where the unsub was even though it was based on your profile. It doesn’t seem to matter what you do, Derek just has to do it better in one way shape, or form.

It’s really pissing you off.

He’s been your rival ever since you started with the BAU. Things were civil in the beginning until he started to outshine you in everything. It didn’t matter what you did, he just had to do it better. He made you feel stupid so you gave him a taste of his own medicine. It’s been a battle that has never been settled between you. If he decides to hate you then you’ll hate him right back.

“I was given an office and moved out of the bullpen. It’s been amazing to have my own personal space.”

“You only got that office because Penelope felt sorry for you.”

“At least she was thinking of me.”

“I’m glad you moved out of the bullpen so I don’t have to hear every story begin with ‘So I hooked up with this one girl’.”

“Hey, that was one time!”

“Will you two stop?” Emily explodes with annoyance. “I’m going to speak for everyone here that we’re tired of your bullshit. Work it out or you’re not invited to anything anymore.”

You feel bad that this bickering is affecting the rest of the team. You and Derek lower your heads in shame as the rest of the conversation continues.

“We’re sorry,” Derek sighs and shovels a fork-full of food into his mouth.

After the dinner is over and you’re back home in the sanctuary of your home, you get a message from JJ.

Hey, do you want to go with me to the carnival in town this weekend? I think it could be good to go with Will and the kids.

Sure! Sounds like fun.

Cool. I’ll text you the time later when we figure it out.

The rest of the work week went by slowly because you and Derek were always fighting. The only thing you’re looking forward to is spending time with JJ, Will, and the kids. You show up at the carnival twenty minutes early just in case there is a long line to get in.

Hey, I’m here. Where are you?

By the ticket line.

You push through the crowd to get to the ticket line but you don’t see her. Usually, Henry runs into your arms as soon as he sees you but you don’t get that greeting. You turn to check out another place when you run into a hard chest. You look up to apologize to the person but see it’s Derek.

“Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here?”

“Reid asked to hang out here. What are you doing here?”

“JJ asked me to hang with her and the kids.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you two have been set up. Everything has been paid for but if Derek is the only one who is going to be here, you’re not staying. “Let’s just leave.”

You turn to leave when Derek scoffs loudly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He points to the gate entrance where Hotch and Rossi are standing on either side of it to prevent you two from leaving. “Looks like we’re stuck here.”

“Yeah, we’re stuck but we don’t have to be stuck together. Let’s stay a few hours separately and then leave together.”

“That’s the first smart idea you’ve had,” he says sarcastically and leaves your side.

You mock him in a deep voice before going off on your own. It’s fun going on rides by yourself without having to worry about another person but that gets old very quickly. You hate going to these things alone because you want to enjoy it with someone who gets excited to be here. You love rides and carnivals but it’s not as fun without someone to enjoy it with. The games get boring and meaningless without someone to impress.

You stop to grab some cotton candy, your favorite carnival snack. The only thing you’re looking forward to is riding the Ferris Wheel alone. The sun is setting which makes getting on the ride the perfect time. There is already a long line by the time you get there but you wait patiently for your turn. Someone bumps into you from behind causing you to smack into the person in front of you.

“I’m so sor--oh, it’s you,” you sigh.

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m not. You just happened to be in the same line as me at this exact time. It means nothing.”

You go back to eating your cotton candy and minding your own business when you feel eyes on you. You look around and lock eyes with a much older man by the bathrooms. He is leaning against the wall right by the women’s restrooms. He might be waiting for someone but with the way he’s looking at you, you doubt it. 

He smiles creepily so you move to the left and out of view of him. However, he moves to the right so he can look at you some more. You shift closer to Derek until you’re practically touching him.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks and looks at you.

“Sorry,” you sigh and move back into the man’s view.

You peek over at the man who is still staring at you. Derek looks over to see what you’re looking at and sees the man. He immediately steps out of line and approaches the man calmly. Derek leans close to the man and says something that causes the man to look back at him in fear. Before Derek is done talking to him, the man scurries off and disappears into the crowd. Derek smirks slightly and walks back to his place in line. You hide your smile behind your cotton candy but Derek sees.

“Shut up and eat your cotton candy before I pour water on it.”

That makes you smile even more. You two get to the front of the line, but fate has it that you’re stuck sitting in the same car. Derek sits on one side of the car and you on the other and no words are being said. The Ferris Wheel lifts you higher so you can get a better view of the beautiful sunset. The light hits your face at the right angle making your skin glow.

“What?” you sigh, feeling his eyes on you.

“Why do you hate me?”

That question shocks you from how sudden it is.

“That’s not the question you should be asking. The question is why you you hate me?”

“What? I don’t hate you. Why would you think that?”

“Are you serious? Ever since I started at the BAU, you’ve always had to one-up me. You just had to be better than me. You did it the first chance you got. You embarrassed me in front of everyone, and it doesn't matter what I seem to do, it’s not good enough for you.”

Derek never realized what he was doing to you. You were only like this way toward him because he was doing it to you. He feels really bad once he realizes how much this affects you.

“I thought you were trying to one-up me all the time.”

“Wow, what a couple of idiots we are,” you chuckle. “So, we’ve been fighting for nothing?”

“Seems like it.”

“Wow,” you nod and look down.

Derek slides from his side of the car to yours.

“Can we start over? You’ve done some pretty amazing things for the team. I’d like a chance to get to know that part of you.”

You look up and notice the way the sunlight is making his dark brown eyes shine.

“I’d like that,” you smile.

Funny how all it took is a conversation for you and Derek to become the best of friends.

x

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[yrbshay]

Law of Assumption: My success, How it did it & you can too!

Okay so I saw a lot of screenshots of law of assumption work from tumblr on Pinterest so I decided to get back on here but start a new blog! This will be for law of assumption and college <;3

⋆˙⟡♡₊˚⊹. .⊹˚₊♡⟡˙⋆

Successes

I wanted to share my success story because who doesn’t love a good success story?

YEARSS ago when I was like 18-19 I started law of assumption but was very much in a stuck place. My mental health really wasn’t the best in my honest opinion and I was just dreaming for something to happen. Id go out with my friends every once and a while which was great! But I knew I wanted love, be out my moms house I just wanted more in life.

Fast forward to me being 19 but my 20th birthday was coming up. I had manifested a prior relationship but that had went south quick and I was heartbroken. I knew I wasn’t doing the best with my mental diet. I decided to buy coaching from a well known YouTubers team. (So it wasn’t her herself but one of the people that work alongside with her she had a ton of coaches). Long story short I ended up getting scammed but they did bring up some good questions During “consulting” I’ve never though to ask.

So boom I decided I’m gonna get it and I’m gonna get it today. I wrote down exactly how I felt, what I wanted in a partner (I’m talking down to the hair and eye color I was playing build a man Lmaoo). Either that night or the day after I met someone on tinder. I didn’t know where it was gonna go but he fit everything that I had written down. The rest was history!

Now we have our own house (manifested), a daughter, he has a good job that pays for everything(manifested) , we are both in school and our salaries are gonna be AMAZING when we are done. Does that mean I’m done with manifesting? No not at all. Though I have everything I wanted (and a few surprises that turned out for the better), we as humans never stop manifesting. I wanna be at the top and then some. Retire when I want to and live amazing when doing it. Having generational wealth and my kids not ever having to worry about homelessness or anything I ever went through. And that’s why I created this blog as a manifest with me!

I’m running out of time and I don’t wanna make this post hella long so I’ll explain the hows in the next post. But I wanted to conclude by saying I know there are a ton of law of assumption blogs, YouTubers information etc. but I wanted to share what worked for me and give people new perspectives to look at. Maybe someone will resonate with the what I have done, the advice/ tips I’ll give and the help they may receive from me.

I’ll try my best to push the hows and going forward in a little while. For now I have to work on school.

Happy manifesting ⋆˙⟡♡

[fixfoxnox]

Stay Quiet (Gaz/Price)

Day 3 of Gaz Week. NSFW part now with the prompt Stuck In A Small Space! More PriceGaz

Warnings: Hand Jobs, smut, Gaz calls Price "Captain" during sex

Word Count: 2k

"Stay quiet."

"I am quiet!" Gaz snapped under his breath, frustration growing. He was pressed back against a shelf, the harsh wood digging into his back. He couldn't move forward, because that's where Price was.

It was meant to be a simple mission, just a simple mission to retrieve intel from a small Ultranationalist hideout. He and Price were the only ones sent in. There wasn't meant to be any fighting and, even if there way, it was just a small hideout anyways...right?

Except that it wasn't. Both he and Price knew that their intel had been off the moment that they got to the hideout. The place was huge and certainly not something that Gaz would call a "small hideout." It had left him and Price to wonder if they'd been purposefully mislead, or if their informant Yuri genuinely thought that this was a "small hideout." Gaz wasn't sure which would  be the better option.

They had a decision to make though. Did they want to continue on by themselves or retreat and come back with the entire team for a better chance if they were caught? It was a hard choice to make and, ultimately, the decision fell on Price. They decided to continue forward with the plan.

It was only the two of them, so they moved as slowly as they possibly could through the area. It was a matter of stealth and trust. They both had to be quiet, quick when need be, and slow when need be. But that also had to trust the other. They had to trust that the other was giving them correct call outs, that they could stay quiet and not get them caught. Gaz trusted Price and Price trusted him.

All had been going perfectly well until they'd reached the computer room where they were meant to plug into the system and allow Laswell access. It was a simple thing, just a thumb drive then five minutes of protecting it while Laswell's software scraped the computer for anything important.

Of course it couldn't be an easy five minutes for them and, during the last minute, they received word from Laswell that someone had caught on to her scraping and that a group of ultranationalist soldiers were headed their way.

They managed to hold out for the last minute of the clock, but by the time Gaz yanked the thumb drive out of the computer, they could hear the soldier faster approaching them and they didn't have anywhere to go.

Price had acted quickly, grabbing Gaz's hand and dragging him over to a small compute closet in the room. The threw the door open and shoved Gaz inside before squeezing himself in after. He'd given quick and quiet word to Laswell that they were going dark before flipping off his communications and reaching over to do the same for Gaz.

So now they were here, crammed in a tiny computer closet together, trying to wait out the men that they could hear so clearly on the other side of the door.

It was difficult to keep quiet, especially with Price so close to him. The man was pressed right against his body and, due to the lack of space, one of his thighs was pressed firmly between Gaz's legs, brushing against his cock with any move from the other man. It was overwhelming and Gaz was trying his hardest not to focus on it. The last thing he wanted or needed was to get hard from this.

Of course, that wasn't exactly something he could stop from happening. Especially when Price was jolting forward to press his ear up against the door. The movement caused his thigh to push forward, grinding against Gaz's cock and pulling a short gasp from his lips. It felt too fucking good and he needed to get a hold of himself.

"You good, Gaz?" Price asked him carefully, turning to peer at his face through the darkness of the closet. Gaz was grateful for the darkness as it meant that Price, hopefully, couldn't see the flush of his skin or the way that he was practically panting through slightly parted lips.

He nodded his head rapidly, "Perfectly fine, Captain." He winced a bit at how high his voice sounded to his own ears. Price seemed to pick up on his sudden change in tone.

Price leaned toward him, concern clear on his face even through the darkness. The move caused his leg to grind against Gaz once again and a squeaked-out moan escaped his lips at the feeling, freezing Price in place. There was a long moment of silence and Gaz wanted to throw himself into the sun. He'd just fucking moaned in his Captain's face and now he was sure he was going to be in trouble for not controlling himself better.

After a long second of pause, Price moved, shifting his leg forward again to grind against Gaz's quickly filling cock. "Sir," Gaz managed to choke out, his own desperation filling his words, "Wait, don't- oh god." His head tilted back against the shelf as Price moved his leg against him again. Surely his Captain understood what was happening by now? But surely his captain wasn't doing it on purpose.

Price hummed and brought a finger up to his mouth, motioning for Gaz to stay quiet. They were still on a mission. His leg bounced up again and Gaz jerked forward, grabbing tight to Price and using the man's vest to muffle his moans. Price didn't stop moving his leg, he just kept bouncing it in steady movements, grinding it slowly against Gaz's clothed cock.

It wasn't long until Gaz was a panting and whining mess against him, gripping tight to his vest for some sort of support as his hips jerked down to meet Price's leg. His skin felt hot and the air in the little closet was stifling to him as pleasure started to build in him slowly, creating a low buzz under his skin.

"Price," He pressed closer to the man, desperate for more. Desperate for anything that the man would give to him. A hand landed roughly on his chin and, with a tight grip, Price pulled him forward to slam their mouths together.

"Stay quiet," Price growled against him, still working his leg over him in slow massaging movements. Gaz whimpered at the words, but the sound was muffled by Price's lips slamming back against his mouth.

Gaz wasn't exactly sure what was happening and part of him wondered if he was dreaming. Perhaps there wasn't enough air in the room and his mind was providing him a fantasy for comfort as he slowly suffocated. Or maybe there was some sort of gas slowly seeping into the room, making his mind hazy.

Either way, it didn't matter. What mattered was that Gaz felt good. So fucking good. The steady pressure against his cock was delicious and the feel of Price's hands moving down his body, squeezing and groping as they went...it was almost too much for his hazy mind to handle. If this was a dream, he didn't think that he wanted to wake up.

Eventually, Price's hands found their way to the front of his pants and, with a quick flick of his thumb and twist of his wrist, Gaz's pants were undone and a hand was roughly shoving its way past the waistband of his pants and underwear.

Price pulled away from Gaz's mouth and encouraged him to bury his face into his shoulder with a hand on the back of his head. "You have to stay quiet for me, okay? Think you can do that?"

"Yes," Gaz whined at the feeling of Price's hand wrapping around his cock.

"Sorry," Price gave a few torturous slow strokes of his hand, "Yes what?"

His hand tightened and the slow strokes were replaced with fasts jerks of his wrist that had Gaz's legs going weak and his mouth latching on to Price's shoulder to disguise his whines. "Yes! Yes, Captain!" He managed to get out finally, "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, please- oh god!" He muttered curses into Price's shoulder, trying to keep himself quiet.

Price gave a low chuckle, still stroking over his cock at a quick speed, hurtling him quickly toward his end. "So good for me, Kyle, so fucking good. You like this? Like my hand on your cock?"

Gaz gave a whimper before nodding his head, "Yes, yes Captain, love it. Oh- please, sir!" His hips started moving, meeting Price's hand with every move.

"Do you," Price pressed a kiss to his cheek before slowly moving lower, littering every piece of skin with nips and kisses, "know how long I've wanted to do this?" Gaz shook his head wildly, trying to take in deep breaths as his might grew hazy and his air grew sparse with the never-ending moans and pleas. "I've wanted you since the very beginning, you're just too fucking tempting. I managed to hold out, but this? You grinding against my leg like a dog in heat? I can only handle so much."

"You," Gaz gasped as Price ran his thumb over the head of his cock, stroking along his slit for a moment before continuing his quick jerking movements, "oh god- you should have said something. Could have fucked me sooner."

Those words pulled a low growl from Price and soon Gaz found a hand shoved under his shirt and vest to tweak at his nipples, sending his hips jolting forward with a desperate whine.

"You just wait," Price growled low in his ear, "as soon as I get you alone," he kissed his neck, "and into a proper bed? You won't be able to walk properly when I finish with you."

Price continued muttering filthy words into his ear as his hand stroked along his cock. It was quick and filthy and Gaz was fighting down every part of him that just wanted to moan out the man's name and let everyone in the nearby vicinity know how well his Captain was treating him.

"Fuck, Captain," he muttered after a long moment, his voice high and his hips stuttering in the other man's hand. Price seemed to understand what the words meant, even if he didn't say them.

"Gonna come? Gonna finish in my hand like a good boy?" Gaz nodded his head rapidly, gasping as the pleasure in him built higher and higher until he was right on that edge. "Go on then, come for your captain."

And just like that Gaz was spilling into Price's hand, his eyes rolling back as Price worked him through it, running his fist over his cock in ever-slowing strokes. The pleasure of it all was enough to have Gaz's knees weak and, later, he would come to the conclusion that the only reason he hadn't fallen was because of Price's body pressed against his own.

When he managed to slowly pull away from Price's shoulder, confident that he'd no longer make any noises, he met the older man's eyes. "Alright?" Price asked carefully, watching his face for any sign of discomfort.

"I'm good, Captain," Gaz answered him quietly, still mindful of the possible men outside of the room. He waited until Price had pulled his hands out of his pants and started to redo them for him before speaking again, "How much longer do you think we'll have to wait?"

Price gave a low hum, his lips quirking up as he did, "As long as you think it will take you to recover. The men outside left around the time that we started."

Gaz blinked wide at him, a flush slowly going over his face. "So you- we-?"

Price chuckled at his reaction, "Sorry, I just couldn't help myself." he leaned forward to press a kiss to Gaz's cheek and whisper in his ear, "Being this fucking close to you, I don't know how anyone would be able to keep themselves from it."

Gaz was fairly certain that he was still blushing bright red by the time they made it back to the base.

[flnpushy]

Helios 11: Experimental Birth Part 2, And Kara's Triumphant Birth.

The final story before we enter.... Helios: A New Era.

Warning: Mechanically assisted births in story.

An hour had passed since Angel and Kate birthed their oversized breech babies. Now it was time for Kara, Luna, and Molly to attempt birth. Unknowing to the scientists with Dr. Karens, the Mothers carrying breech were able to progress much faster, however had great difficulty in final delivery. For the other 3 girls delivering normal head-first babies, progress was almost non existent. Once the babies heads came through the cervix there was basically no farther movement. Here is their story.

Kara Continued to watch her live feed monitor. The probe inserted by the scientists kept a watchful eye on what was happening in her birth canal. Kara could see her babies head. It had been in the exact same spot now for 12 hours. The story was the same for the other girls. The babies were stuck firm within them. Kara could feel her baby moving inside. She could feel its feet kicking and trying to free itself. Kara rubbed her large belly in attempt to calm the baby inside. 

Up in the tower the scientists were meeting with Dr. Karens to decide what needed to happen next. 

“What if their cervixes begin to close?” One scientist asked the group.

“The babies body could be come trapped inside.” Another replied.

“ITS OK ITS OK!” Dr. Karens called out. “We all just need to calm down a bit here, all the mothers and babies are showing strong vitals, we have time.” 

Dr. Karens cleaned her throat as she faced the other scientists. 

“We can always administer the shot that will keep the cervix soft, Its a last resort if need be.” She exclaimed. 

“Now quite clearly the large heads of the babies were an issue with the girls birthing breech. The girls birthing normally are going to struggle longer as the head must come first. This is only logical.”

“But doctor, we are over 24 hours now with no progress for these mothers!” A scientist said. 

“What if the babies are already stuck, and they cant push them out?!?” Another asked.

“Oh they will… they will get the babies out. These girls are the creme of the crop here on helios. They have all been tested and proved they can do this.” Karens replied. 

“I have the data here.” Karens said as she displayed data on a central screen 

The group analyzed the chart. It was clear that the girls in the experiment clearly had a pushing advantage over the other girls among the Helios Center. But they were still charting new waters with this experience. These were still the biggest babies ever attempted to be birthed at the Helios facility. 

Another 5 hours passed with no progress recorded. It was clear that there was an issue. 

“Call Alpha Centauri.” Said Dr. Karens. 

A scientist put forth a communication request to the other facility. 

“Include Martian facilities too.” Karens also asked.

Connection established…… Connection established. 

The scientists were now interconnected between the Alpha Birthing Center, and the Martian Birthing Center on Mars. 

“Greetings!” Dr. Karens said. “I am the scientific and experimental birth lead here at the Helios birthing facility. I have forwarded you our experiment for you to review.” 

The groups read over the readings of the experiment so far. They read about the genetics, the labor process and also the 2 breech births that had taken place so far. It also talked about the 3 girls current situation.

A Martian scientist spoke first. 

“We have done similar tests here at Martian.” 

Alpha base responded.

“We have done no such testing at our facilities and have no advice to offer.”

Alpha signed out. 

“So we can offer our findings.” The Martian lead scientist said.

“Our recent tests found that for the humanoid woman, birthing a 28-30lb fetus is just about impossible without extreme intervention. If your girls can pull it off naturally they would be considered heroes to this mission.” 

The Martian continued.

“We found it's a fine balance between contraction frequency and perennial stretching. You don’t want the girls to contract too much or damage could occur to baby and mother, But too slowly and progress could be agonizingly slow to the point of stress for the fetus. We suggest administering a light dose to speed contractions.” 

The martians signed off. 

Three scientists came down from the tower with a bag. The Scientists approached the girls and then administered a shot of a serum used to speed contractions slightly. The scientists finished and let the girls get back to work. 

A Few more hours passed. Finally something happened. Molly felt her baby move. Her contractions were fast and the baby began progressing toward her opening.

Molly began feeling the urge to push getting strong. Soon she couldn’t stop pushing. Luna was next, Her contractions sped up and she began pushing constantly.

As for Kara she contracted a bit slower, but she was pushing nearly constantly with contractions. 

It was now time to birth some babies. Molly was making the fastest progress, all eyes were on her as the first signs of baby were approaching. When pushing her vagina began to bulge outward meaning the head was now just inside her opening. Molly was working hard. Her little body shook with each contraction. Her belly button stuck out during each push from her large belly. This went on for 3 more hours till finally all eyes and cameras were on Molly’s vagina. Molly made a huge push, as she did her vagina parted open slightly, revealing a sliver of brown hair before almost immediately closing back up. It was progress however. Luna was also getting close to reveal, her little legs pulled back as far as she could, making the most of each contraction. Luna wanted this baby out! Kara was lagging behind. She was pregnant with the largest baby of the group. Kara didn’t care. She knew it would come out in time and she pushed slowly with each contraction to retain energy. 

Luna soon had similar results to Molly. A tiny sliver of babies head was revealed before slipping back in. A couple more hours passed Molly continued to reveal a tiny sliver of babies head with each contraction pushing attempt. Luna was becoming tired and frustrated. Each attempt to push was becoming shorter and weaker. The pushing battle continued. 

Another 4 hours passed. Kara Had now seen a sliver of hair in her opening and was strati g to make slow progress. Molly was beginning to hold her baby down, and the head was staying in the opening. As for luna…. She was in trouble. 

Luna had become physically exhausted. Lunas first baby was a 15 pound baby that took her over a week to push out. This baby in her belly now was proving to be too much for her to handle. The scientists noticed that luna began to look faint and her blood pressure was dropping. 

“Emergency!!” Dr. Karens called out. “Luna’s vitals are too close for comfort, we need to get that baby out now!” 

The scientists rushed down stairs. Luna was moved from her bed to a stretcher bed equipped with a special device. Luna was given sugar and comforted. Meanwhile two scientists Were hooking her up to a machine to assist delivery. One scientists used forceps to open luna’s vagina up. The large head was now revealed. It was massive and so tightly locked within her. The other scientist attached a suction cup like device to the babies head. The cup was attached to a rope and the rope was on a small winch. This was to assist the delivery. Episiotomy and C-sections were not allowed at the helios facility. So stuck or not, either way the baby was coming vaginally. Luna was brought back to normal vitals. Her vagina lips now clasped the suction cup tightly that was attached to her babies head. 

Meanwhile Molly had reached a similar conclusion. Her vitals were in trouble. She was brought to another stretcher and placed next to Luna. She was also hooked up to a suction cup pulling machine as she vitals were assisted. Once she was stable it was time to get the babies out. 

Kara on the other hand was actually making progress. A tiny sliver of abets head became a tear drop shape. Kara reached over her huge belly and touched the head. 

“Good baby.” She said. “Momma’s going to get you out soon.” 

Back on the other side of the room it was time to assist the delivery of Luna and Molly. The girls were strapped into the table via arms and chest. Their legs were placed and strapped into stirrups. 

“Ok begin.” requested Dr. Karens. 

The mechanical devices slowly took up the slack in the ropes. A minute later they were tight. The ropes became tighter and tighter over the next 5 minutes until the girls could feel the traction being applied. 

“Ok now as you contract we want you to push at an even and controlled rate.” Dr. Karens said. 

“Let the machine do the hard work.” She said 

The ropes became tighter and tighter. The electric motors began to strain under the load. Luna got a contraction and pushed hard. 

“I WANT IT OUT!” She yelled. “AHHHHHHHHAHHHH!!!” She yelped. 

“Calm down, Calm down.” Karens said. “Relax, let the machine work!” 

Molly’s rope was tighter now and her vagina began to open revealing the head. She pushed steady Finally after 20 minutes, Molly’s baby crowned. It was Massive in her opening. the sting was almost unbearable as Molly suffered the pain. 

“AHH, OHHH, AAAAMMMMM, AAAHHHH! It hurts so bad!!” She yelled. The skin around the head became white in color as it stretched to its absolute max. Luna watched next to her, her eyes became wide as she realized she was minutes away from experiencing this too! Molly’s skin finally relented and the head slipped free of the tight grasp. Now the rope was slack but began drawing back up to pull the shoulders out of molly’s belly. A few minutes later the rope was guitar string tight. Molly could feel her entire body being pulled toward the winch at the far end. The pain was unbearable, till finally the shoulders came free and the rest of the huge baby body slipped out. Two of the scientists immediately rushed Molly and the baby off to greater care in the incubation rooms. 

Luna was now about to go through the same ordeal. The head was pulled to crown as Luna wailed painfully. It was time. 

“Push girl PUSH!” Karens said. 

“AHHHHH AAAAAA MMMMMM AAAA OOOOOOHHHH AAAAAA!!!!!” Luna yelled out as the head popped free of her vagina. 

“Keep going!” Karens said as the rope took up slack. 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Luna screamed as the shoulders came forth. Luna was now immediately transported with the baby to incubation. 

Now left Kara. 

Kara’s Triumphant story. 

Kara this whole time was slowly meditating through contractions. She now had the babies head large in her opening. It had slipped in a few times, but Kara remained calm and kept going at a gentle pace. The head was becoming huge in her opening. The scientists including Karens gathered around Kara. She pushed slowly on and on for hours and hours. Slowly progressing the head towards crown. She had been laying in this bed pushing now for 3 days since the first contractions began. 

Kara made eye contact with Karens.

“This baby will come naturally, give me time.” Kara said. Karens nodded.

“I will be here for you.” Karens replied. 

A log was being kept in a digital archive of the progress

12:00 Head near crown.

12:10 Retract of the head 

12:30 Head slips in all the way. Vagina closed up.

12:40 Pushing resumed

13:00 Head near crown. 

13:15 Head Slips in, Vagina closes. Progress lost.

14:00 Head pushed back to crown.

14:20 Retract of head 

14:30 Head slips in. Vagina closed. Progress lost 

Each slip in had the scientists concerned if this was possible or not, But Kara kept working.

14:45 Pushing resumed

15:00 Head crowned.

15:20 Head Retracts 

15:30 Head slips back 

16:15 Crowning 

17:00 Crowning 

18:30 Crowning 

20:00 Crowning

20:20 Retracting of head 

20:34 Head slips back in fully. Vagina closes up.

Kara Had struggled through 4 hours at crown. The sting was unbearable, but the head just refused to progress farther. Baby slips back in after 4 hour pushing struggle. In 4 hours Kara had made over 75 attempts to push the crowning head out. It was all lost.

21:30 Mother begins pushing again.

23:00 Crowning 

01:00 Crowning 

03:00 Crowning

03:30 Baby retracts and slips back in. Vagina closes. Progress lost 

03:45 Pushing resumed 

08:00 Crowning 

It was now 11:30 and Kara was still crowned……

Most the scientists had rotated shifts. Dr. Karens however stayed right at Kara’s side. 

13:00 Crowning 

15:00 Crowning 

18:00 shift rotation, Crowning 

19:30 Crowning 

Kara reached down and touched the huge crowning head. “Come on little man, pop outta there.”

21:00 Crowning 

23:00 Crowning 

Dr. Karens leaned over to Kara’s ear. “Your a trooper Kara, You bring honor to this mission.” 

“I will do this.” Kara replied .

01:00…….. 15 hours at crowning. Kara’s opening was stretched farther than anyone thought possible. 

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH COME ON AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!” Kara yelped. She wiggled, struggled, sweat poured from her brow. Her belly button protruded as she pushed as hard as she’d ever done. 

“UGGGGGGHHH!” She grunted as the head popped free. The sheer adrenaline rush keep Kara going as she squeezed with all her might to get the shoulders out. No use. The head was posterior meaning the baby was facing Kara’s belly. Kara could feel the stuck baby wiggling itself to try and get free. The head was now out, but the shoulders were still trapped inside Kara. 

02:00 Head out, baby stuck 

03:00 Baby opens it eyes, still stuck. 

05:00 Baby remains stuck. Eyes open baby still moving trying to free itself. 

10:00 Baby remains stuck. 

10:30….

“I need to stand.” Kara said.

“What?” Karens asked. 

“I need to stand, give baby some room.” Kara said. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Karens replied. 

“I NEED to stand, Ive been laying here 5 days.” Kara repeated. 

“Ok,Ok!” I will help. 

Dr. Karens moved Kara’s feet to the bedside. Kara’s legs needed to get blood flow back. She waited 10 minutes and stood up bedside. Her legs shook under the new load. Kara was fully naked. She stood, legs spread slightly. Her huge belly dangling from her frame, a 30 lb baby still partially inside her. Her babies head hanging from her vagina. The babies eyes were still open. As Kara took her first step the baby made a noise. She took another step, the baby made a small cry. 

“Awww poor little man!” Kara said. “So stuck in mommas belly!” 

Dr. Karens helped Kara slowly walk around the room. Each step Kara could feel the baby wiggling in her. It was almost ticklish and she shuddered with the tingling feeling. She knew the baby was moving. They waled for 15 minutes until Karens assisted Kara back to the bed. Kara drew up her legs are far as she could. The baby began crying. 

“This little guys coming out now.” Kara said. 

Kara wiggled her hips, pulled back her legs. And let out a massive push. The baby surged froward. The shoulders released. the baby slid out to its waist. 

“One more hun.” Karens said. Kara delivered the final push. The 30 pound baby slid out. She had done it….. Naturally. 

A few days passed. Kara recovered slowly from the birth. 

A month later. Kara was sitting in her apartment. She got a knock on the door. She suspected this was now time to be breed with her 3rd and final baby required for the mission. Kara answered the door. It was Dr. Karens, A small group of scientists, and several men in Suits. 

“Kara, please follow us.” Dr. Karens said. 

Kara was scared…. Another experiment? She followed. 

the group made their way to the main hall where a large group of people including other birthing mothers had gathered. A stage and podium stood at the front. Kara was brought up to the stage and sat next to the podium. Dr. Karens took the stage. 

“Hello everyone, I am Dr. Karens, The president scientist of this facility. We are gathered here today to bring honor to one of our own. Kara please stand.” 

Kara Stood as the crowd clapped for her.

“Kara has successfully and naturally birthed the largest baby ever to be born here at Helios Birthing Facility. She now holds the record at 31 lbs birthed naturally. This is an honorary achievement and will be treated as such. Her patience and dedication to this mission stands no bounds!”

The crowd cheered. 

“For Kara we have presented an award. Kara you are relieved of your mission duties one baby early. You will not be re-impregnated. I would like to assign you Vice President Assistant Scientist position. You will now be a member of the caregiving staff, and will be my assistant.” 

Kara was awestruck! NO ONE, and they mean NO ONE, gets early relief, and an assistance position was rarely rewarded. She was truly honored.

Kara was invited to the podium. 

“I accept this position, I am honored to have this opportunity, and will serve the birthing mothers of out facility for the rest of my working career!” 

The crowed cheered for her. 

The facility director approached the podium. Kara took a step to the side. The director made all the maintenance, building, and expansion decisions for the facility. 

“I would like to honor Kara.” He said 

“From now on Garden 31, and Birthing Pool 10 will be known as Kara’s Gardens.” 

Kara was amazed! She felt like she had really made a difference. 

“I would also like to make an announcement.” The director said. 

“We will be expanding the facility, We are entering a Joint venture with the Martians and expanding Helios Birthing center to greater froward out mission.”

The crowd cheered. 

“As director, I grant that Dr. Karens and our new Honorary Vice President scientist Kara, will be a part of the mission to design and build  a new state of the art facility able to serve 2500 birthing women.” 

“Thank You.” The director stepped down. 

Dr. Karens approached Kara. 

“You ready for this journey trooper?” She asked. 

“Most certainly.” Kara said.

“Good, we begin training tomorrow.” Karens said. 

[callmelittlebuttercup]

Peace Offerings Pt.6

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Chapter Summary: Joel and Reader loot a gas station which gets them into a bit of trouble with a few raiders. She goes against Joel's wishes and fights, forcing him to come to her rescue (and reprimand her, of course.) They eventually come across a cabin to rest in for the night. When neither of them can sleep, they decide to pause their feud and be cordial for the night.

Series Warnings: Slow burn, Age gap (reader is 34, Joel is 56), 18+ Minors DNI, Sexual Themes, Violence, Injuries (depictions of blood, bruising, broken bones), Cursing, Grumpy!Joel, Minimal depictions of reader's appearance (hair color/length.)

Chapter Warnings: Creepy men (raiders) & Attempted SA (NOT Joel dw <3)

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

Part Six

Joel and I dug graves for the boys right next to each other in the field behind the motel. We shoveled and moved the bodies in silence, a soft sniffle escaping from me here and there, but Joel stayed straight faced and silent. Once they were covered and I’d placed the makeshift crosses above them, we’d decided it was time to move on. 

         We’d been on foot for a few miles when we came across a vacant gas station. Joel forced the door open and held his gun up to make sure there weren’t any unwanted surprises. Once the coast was deemed clear I followed him into the dusty shack. The shelves had been mostly picked over except for a few cans and bags of things here and there. The most important thing I’d found was an old box of tampons. “Score.” I celebrated under my breath before shoving them into my bag. I had lost track of my period with all of the stress of the journey, but the full ache in my abdomen indicated it was oncoming. 

         Joel and I met at the front of the store again and agreed we’d gotten everything we could before heading back out onto the road. We’d begun walking but stopped in our tracks when we heard what sounded like a wolf whistle. I whipped my head around to see where the sound was coming from, and spotted a hooded man crouching behind an abandoned car. “What do we have here?” Another guy appeared from behind a closer car. “We don’t want any trouble.” Joel said, raising his hands. I copied his movements. “We don’t either, friend. But see, this territory is ours, and we’ve been livin’ off of that gas station for a couple weeks now, so I’d say we have dibs.” The guy said in an obnoxiously condescending tone. Air puffed through my nose as I tried to hold in a mocking laugh. His eyes shot to me, “What’s so funny, sugar?” His tone slightly lowered. I shook my head and kept my eyebrow raised in judgment at him, “Nothing, friend.” He placed his hands on his hips and pushed them towards me, “That’s what I thought. Knew a good lookin’ girl like you’d know not to disrespect a man like me.” I could feel Joel’s anger rising just the same as mine, but I kept cool. “And what kind of a man are you, sir?” I asked before stepping forward, and letting my eyes travel up and down his frame. My tactic of making him insecure was clearly working when he answered, “The kind who ain’t afraid to hit a lady. What with gender equality and all.” I balled my fists up and couldn’t control myself any longer. My knee connected with his crotch, and he doubled over momentarily before grabbing my shoulders and throwing me to the ground. By this time, the other guy that had been hiding had beelined for Joel and the two were in hand to hand combat. I yelped as my back made contact with the hard concrete and the wind was knocked out of me. The man stood above me with a menacing grin. I scrambled to get back to my feet but the heel of his boot was planted on my abdomen. “Look at you. Like a stuck little bird.” He taunted. I tried to roll out from under his foot, but as I turned to my stomach, his arms wrapped around my waist and he lifted me off the ground. I tried to kick and thrash, hoping he would drop me, but his grip was too strong. I heard Joel hollering after him but he was in a chokehold. “Let fucking go of me.” I shouted. “Can’t just yet, baby. Gotta teach you a little lesson about keeping your mouth shut.” He dragged me behind the gas station. A sickening feeling of dread filled my body as I realized what the man’s plan was. He threw me to the ground and kept his body on top of mine. 

          I shrieked and squirmed, trying to make this process as hard as possible for him. He became frustrated and raised his fist before bringing it down into my side. Agonizing pain spread up through my rib cage. My head flew back upon impact and my vision went blurry. I’d begun to accept my fate, but was incredibly relieved when a bullet pierced through the man’s skull and his body dropped to reveal a wild-eyed Joel. He practically ripped the man off of me and knelt down, “Did he-“ I cut him off, “No. Thank you.” I breathed. He let out a breath of relief and helped me to my feet. I winced at the pain in my side, but insisted it was nothing. 

           “Should’ve just let me handle it.” Joel grumbled as we walked off. “Negotiating wastes time. Would’ve been easier just to shoot ‘em.” I argued. “Wasn’t wasting ammo over some hicks. Next time, you let me do the talkin’.” He said sternly. “Not like you were the one who ended up behind a gas station getting your clothes torn off.” I mumbled angrily. “Again, wouldn’t have happened if you’d just kept your goddamn mouth shut.” Joel turned and stood, causing me to almost run into him. “You’re just like them.” I grunted. “Excuse me?” He said, his eyes squinting with astonishment. “You think of me as a small, weak thing. Just like they do. Telling me to shut my mouth, to obey you, and follow your lead.” I said, my voice wavering as tears of frustration threatened to fall. He breathed deeply through his nose and pressed his lips together, “Don’t you ever say that. I have done everything in my power to keep you alive and be respectful towards you.” He seethed. “Respectful?” I questioned, my voice filled with disbelief, “Telling me to shut my mouth is respectful? Barely talking to me and treating me like a piece of cargo is respectful?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I didn’t have to take you with me on this trip. I could have damn well told Abe to fuck off and gone off on my own. Would have been a hell of a lot easier, but I chose to do the right thing for once. All I asked was for you to follow my direction so we don’t get ourselves killed. I’m already doing my part. I don’t owe you friendly conversation, or emotional support.” He lamented. I stood there staring at him, “You’re right. I’m sorry for experiencing all of that shit and having a human reaction to it. I’m sorry I haven’t yet become jaded and calloused by the shitstorm that the world is like you have. But just like no one forced you to bring me with you, no one is forcing you to be my emotional support. You could have left me sobbing on the ground, I would have snapped out of it at some point, but you chose to comfort me. As for friendly conversation, we’re spending months together. Would it be such a bad thing to build some kind of trust? I promise I’m not trying to be a burden, or to cause more issues. I’m trying to get to my brother just like you are. It’s not my fault shit keeps happening to us.” He kept his eyes on the ground, “I know. I didn’t mean to blame you. I just… I was worried he was gonna..” He stumbled over his words. “Well if we’re not getting invested in each other you don’t need to care about that. We agreed to just get out of things alive and move on.” I said sternly before continuing to walk in front of him. I trudged along but my body flew to the ground when my foot got caught on something. “Shit. A trip wire. Get up!” Joel yelled and grabbed my backpack to lift me off the ground. I stumbled, but got to my feet and ran as fast as possible.      

       Trees whizzed past as Joel and I raced through the woods, trying to get whoever was after us off of our trail. “Don’t go straight, zig-zag!” Joel called out as he veered around trees and rocks behind me. The impact of the ground caused the  pain in my ribs to spread across my chest, laboring my breathing even more. Joel must’ve heard my wheezing because he reassured me, “Just a minute more and we’ll probably have cleared ‘em.” I nodded, not having enough air to answer. We came to a clearing and Joel slowed down, leaning over to rest his hands on his knees. I did the same, but as I tried to catch my breath, my vision was blurring again. This time I wasn’t able to shake it, and felt myself collapse to the ground. Joel’s voice calling out my name sounded far away as I lost consciousness. 

I woke up to a figure leaning over me and slapping my face gently. My name fell off of his lips followed by “Stay with me. C’mon.” I blinked, trying to regain my vision. Joel’s face became clear and I looked around. We were in a room. The walls were wooden logs stacked on top of each other, and the familiar musk of a cabin filled my nose. “Where are we?” I asked groggily. Joel handed me my canteen before explaining, “We’re in a cabin. Not far from where you collapsed on me.” I took a swig and put the cap back on while swallowing the warm, yet refreshing liquid. “Damn. I don’t remember walking here.” I grunted as I sat up, my side filling with the same searing pain that had knocked me unconscious. Joel shook his head, “You didn’t.” I shot him a questioning look, “You carried me?” My cheeks reddened at the thought of his arms wrapped around me, bearing my dead weight. I should have been embarrased, but to my dismay, I’d found it the slightest bit attractive. “Yeah. Not far. Just wanted to get us out of sight.” He explained. “Sorry you had to do that. And thank you.” I said. He just nodded and turned his attention to his backpack. “Joel?” His eyes shifted up to look at me again. “I’m sorry I compared you to one of them.” I said sheepishly as I played with the cuffs of my sweatshirt, “You’re nothing like them, and that was a really shitty dig. You’ve done a lot for me already, more than you’ve needed to. So thank you.” He kept his eyes on me and pressed his lips together before giving me a slight nod, then stood up from the side of the bed I was laid on and began to walk towards the door. “You’re still an asshole though, just in a different way.” I teased. He stopped in his tracks and turned to glance at me once more. I swore I saw the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. “Get some rest.” His gravelly voice commanded before he disappeared into the hallway. I laid my head down onto the soft pillow, and fell asleep with a slight smile on my face. 

I woke up drenched in sweat. The room was darker than before, signifying that it was late into the night. I was pretty sure I’d woken myself up screaming, so I tried to slow the heaving of my chest by taking slower breaths, but the images of my gored brother continued to flash in my mind. I whimpered and smashed my head into my pillow, attempting to beat the irrational fears out of my mind. None of my usual tactics worked, and I realized I wasn’t getting back to sleep, so I painfully sat up and stood up off the bed. I opened the door slowly, avoiding the inevitable creaks from the old hinges. The hallway was dimly lit by the moonlight shining in through a large window at the end of it. It was propped open slightly, and the wind rippled through the thin fabric that was draped across it. I continued to explore the small cabin, and looked for another place to try and clear my thoughts. As I turned a corner, I jumped about four feet off of the ground and screamed bloody murder as I came face to face with a tall figure. “Shhhhhh it’s me.” Joel’s voice pierced through my panicked shrieks and his hands wrapped around my fists that I’d been blindly throwing around. “Fuck, Joel. What are you doing?” I breathed. I was relieved to know it was just him but also pissed that he would sneak up on me like that. “Findin’ out what the fuck you’re doin’.” He snapped back. “I couldn’t sleep. Was just finding a place to clear my mind.” I explained, still catching my breath from the fright. I leaned my back against the wall. “I see. This about Sam and Henry?” He asked. I sighed, “My brother. But I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it.” I said as I pushed up off of the wall and began to walk back towards my room. 

         “I ain’t sleepin’ either.” Joel said, stopping me in my tracks. Another peace offering. “Hmm. Too bad you ain’t keen on friendly conversation.” I said, mocking his southern twang. “Doesn’t have to be friendly. Could just be conversation.” He said in a suggestive tone. That was the first hint of charisma I’d ever experienced from him. It pulled a slight chuckle from my lips, and I subconsciously walked towards him. “You mean you’re willing to engage with me for more than five minutes and about something that’s not a travel plan?” I asked, hiding the excitement in my voice behind sarcasm. “We’ll see how much of it I can take.” He mumbled. We were not only having a casual conversation but were, dare I say, flirting? 

          I plopped into the couch that had been pushed up against the front window of the cabin. Joel sat back into the chair across the room, sipping something from a glass. I perked up, “Is that?” I asked. He nodded and offered me the glass. “Where did you find it?” I asked again as I accepted it from him. “Took a bottle from Bill and Frank’s reserve. The bottle’s gone. It was back in the truck, but I had some left in my flask.” He explained. “Oh… I won’t drink your last few sips then.” I said, holding it out for him to take it back. “Nah… you need it more than me.” He said waving me away with his hand. I hesitated at first, making sure he was serious, and then took a swig. There was about a sip left and I insisted he take it back. He obliged. 

“What makes you think I need it more than you?” I asked, licking the remaining sweetness off of my lips. He thought for a moment, mulling his words around his brain, then spoke, “You were havin’ nightmares.” I nodded. “Bout what?” He asked, his tone staying monotonous so as to not expose his curiosity. I sighed and turned my head, regretting the fact that I’d agreed to talk to him. I’d wanted to continue to throw his words back into his face, but even he was going against his previous statements now. I was breaking him down, brick by brick. 

“It’s a recurring one. My brother getting ripped apart by clickers. It’s the ugliest death possible, so of course my brain would decide it should be the focus of my dreams.” I said sarcastically. Joel just nodded, taking in my words. “I don’t know why that’s the one. I’ve gone through so much other shit that could easily be in my nightmares. Why am I dreaming about that specifically?” I lamented. “Cus that’s the thing you’re most afraid of.” Joel answered, “Simple as that.” I clenched my jaw, “Guess so. What do you dream about?” I asked. He swirled the last sip of the whiskey around in the glass before gulping it down and saying, “Don’t dream much these days.”   

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

Next Part | Masterlist

[fandonnavyce]

Jason In Wonderland - Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

AO3 Link

Jason asked once again why a King in this Supernatural Dimension would have any interest in him. But the couple only gave cryptic answers before speeding away on their motorcycle. The two giggling, "You're his type", was the straightest answer he got before the couple disappeared out of view.

“OK so it doesn’t matter which way I go; it’s only a short Hunt away,” Jason tried to psych himself up. His eyes roved the unnatural expanse before him. Jason decided to pick the direction which could only be labelled as Away.

He kicked his feet and felt his body push forward.

...

Jason had been a little too busy screaming in agony and then being stuck in maddening conversation. But (as he felt his body bob along merrily) Jason realised something.

He was flying!

There was nothing solid beneath his feet; nothing was supporting him. Gravity had no hold on him. He was floating in a green-tinted void!

Holding his arms in an aeroplane pose, Jason allowed his body to tilt. And he started flying in his leaned direction. Giddily, Jason did loop-de-loops. Because he was flying! Jason did a few laps, picking up speed, getting faster and faster, circling and tumbling everywhere. Spiralling high at accelerating speed, before nose-diving below headfirst, burrowing into neverending depths. Then freezing in place. At the instant of a thought.

A massive grin was on Jason's face as he laughed in delight. How did Kyrptonians bear not just flying all the goddamn time?

...

Skulker’s Island really was unmissable.

Jason spotted the floating island with its landmark Skull and soared over. He made sure to climb high and ascended over the island. With his bird-eye’s view of the Island, like an optical illusion or a trick of the light, he could now see the Revolving River of Doors. An uncountable number of purple doors of abstract design floating in corkscrew spirals, drifting in orbiting revolutions. A swirling river of doors as far as he could see. Jason tried to spot which door might be the one to Gotham from a distance. But all the doors looked as spooky and avant garde as each other from here. He decided to get closer.

Jason hemmed and hawed in front of a purple door. Out of all the purple doors it surely did match the description, ‘A Purple Travesty to Gothic Art Deco’. However, there was one little problem. It was far too small. It was the size of a mouse hole.

Jason crouched down and patted his finger tip against it in an imitation of a door knock. The door warmed at his touch, pulsing in mirrored response. Jason blinked in wonder. “Huh. Ok. Excuse me, sorry, is this the door to Gotham? I would like to go through.”

The tiny door warmed again but this time with the whirring of a buffering electronic. Then it materialised a black bubble. Which burst and Jason reflexively caught what was inside into the open palm of his hand. It was a thimble-sized bottle. A whiskey decanter with a fancy crystallised stopper with a black ribbon wrapped around its neck which read in cursive silver,

“DRINK ME”.

But Jason wasn’t an idiot. He was a born and bred Gothamite. Uncorking the bottle he lightly sniffed it. It didn’t smell of Joker Venom, any of Scarecrow’s fear toxins, Poison Ivy’s preferred pheromones, or any of the less specialised and more common drugs and poison.

Cautiously, Jason dabbed a drop onto his fingertip and licked. It tasted like one of Alfred’s hot chocolates, thick, sweet, and creamy. In unthinking delight, Jason gulped the rest down.

As he savoured the aftertaste, Jason felt pins and needles crawl all up and down his arms and legs. Then between one blink and the next, the door was the perfect size. Jason lifted his hand onto the adorned black brass door handle and swung the door open. Arrogantly rolling with shadowy furls, thick smog languidly spilled out into his face. Jason smirked. ‘Good ol’ Gotham,’ Jason thought to himself.

For the second time that day he stepped across dimensions.

Unfortunately, it became real apparent that Jason had not returned to Gotham City, Earth.

Jason Todd sorely wished that he’d been more specific when asking for directions. For he had landed in Gotham. But it was even more obvious that he had arrived in Gotham, the Supernatural Otherworld Edition. (The sky was still a void of swirling haunting preternatural green. But there was a misty haze to everything, a blur that went beyond Gotham’s smog.) Or at least an Impressionist version of them. It was like the defined lines of reality were brushing up against each other and smudging; the glances leaving each other more indistinct with each faint touch.

Jason walked down semi-familiar busy streets amid Gothamites who were the shades of people and echoes of walking crowds; indistinct and blurry; a constructed memory re-enacted. Jason eyed up and down the front window of Tony’s. One of his favourite pizza joints, who’s owner was one of Red Hood’s. Unlike its neighbouring buildings, Tony’s was brought into sharp relief.

“Curiouser and curiouser.”

“̷̼͗My̸̜̍ ̷͎̈b̴̬͋el̷̻̉ov̸͇̌e̵͚̓ḓ̷̓ ̶͇͒Re̶̫͗d̵̬͌ ̸̩͝Kń̵̲i̷̘͌g̸ĥ̷̡t̴̮̓,̵͎̿ ̶͙̋wh̸̽a̶̼̍t̸͔̉ ̷̢̿ma̵͕͝ỳ̵̧ ̸͔̀ȳ̶͎o̶͉͠u ḇ̵̕e̴̖͊ ̵̝͒dǫ̴͘i̴n̴̠̄g̸̪͝ ̶̭́h̵̺́er̶̢̈́e̴̪̋?"(surprise, delight, wonder)

Jason spun around. His surroundings blurred out-of-focus and were swallowed up into indistinct smog. All of the reality’s focus was concentrated on the figure before him:

Lady Gotham.

There was no way else to describe them. Just like how the Statue of Liberty was Lady Liberty; this blood-headed figure begowned in the velvet black of a shadowy night’s bewitching mysteries; bedecked in the poor man’s sweat and tears turned oil-black svelte evening gloves, and adorned with the anguished screams trapped in resplendent pearls that hung like noose around her neck and dripped like spilled blood from her earrings.

Of course she was Gotham.

Jason bows. “Lady Gotham” he greets. “I seek your help. I’m not where I wish to be.”

Gotham laughs. It’s the screech of a night owl, the scrape of fork against a porcelain plate, the mirthless titter of a socialite. It puts Jason’s teeth on edge.

“Not all who wander are lost.” Gotham smiled. It was cruel. It was uncaring. It was welcoming. “A̵̍̑͜r̶̞̳͋e ̸͍͜͝ÿ̶̢̥́o̸u No̸̖̯̽t̴͘ Họ̸̅̅m̸̿ẻ̸̩͘?̷̅ M̴̢͙̜͇͓̂̑̉͝͝¥̶̖͙͖͇̳̃̿͑́͠ Sð̶͓͚̟̟͚͗̅̃̋̒ñ̸(Mine, mine, MINE)(My-Twice-Born)(My Red Knight)(My Beloved Bloody Butcherbird).”

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[noorpersona]

The Saga: Tsukishima x Reader Pt. 3 (Pt. 1)

Being on a level in which you were ‘okay’ with Tsukishima Kei was odd.

You still teased each other sure, but that was simply in both of your natures. There was a lack of venom; a lack of hatred in the jabs you took at each other. It was just simply something that you weren’t used to. Ever since that night where you ‘confessed’ to him, he’s began treating you with a sense of neutrality. The change was small, but it was very much impactful.

Even other people were starting to notice it.

“You two seem to be doing better,” Yamaguchi had commented once, while you were giving him and Kei some advice on an English assignment. It was a sort of abrupt comment, said while Kei was off getting a drink from a nearby vending machine, and one that you didn’t expect. It caused to you look up in slight surprise. Yamaguchi stuttered at your expression.

“N-not that you- you two had an-any trouble in the beginning-“ Your laugh cuts off his rambling, “Please, Yamaguchi-kun, don’t pretend like Kei is the nicest person to be around.” You chuckled, watching Kei from afar waiting for his drinks. You didn’t realize, but you were smiling. “But you’re right. We’ve kind of come to an…” You pause, trying to find the right word for it, “Understanding.”

And you really had. You had asked him to start treating you better, and he did. On the nights that he could, he would walk home with you, join you on dinners, and all in all was just more amicable.

You were happy with this evolvement, but that didn’t mean you were satisfied with it.

Because it seemed to bring up so many questions.

You knew that Kei liked you, and you knew that he knew you liked him, yet nothing ever came of it. You were both in that were place, a kind of limbo between just being friends and being more than that, and you seemed perpetually stuck; unable to decide to come down, or march on forward. And Kei wasn’t helping.

He never brought up that night. In fact, it seemed as though he pretended it never happened, and that bothered you. You knew that you shut it down that night, and you would do it over if given the choice, but you couldn’t tell whether he wanted to put in the actual effort to start it up. And while you never had the guts to bring it up with you two doing so well, you could tell that it lingered in the air between you two. Like an awful smell that grew and grew more potent with every moment you ignored it.

But what could you do?

Nothing. You couldn’t do anything about it. You were never one for emotional confrontation, and you’d avoid for as long as you possibly could. If you had the choice between not knowing and being happy, and knowing then being embarrassed and crushed, you’d take not knowing any day.

Yes, because that seems very healthy.

You’re torn from your thoughts when you feel a soft knock to the top of your head. You look up to a suspicious looking Kei.

“What are you thinking about?” Over the past couple weeks, you’ve grown pretty good at masking your facial expressions; so instead of heating up at the idea of telling him that you were in fact thinking about him, your expression remained light and neutral as you quickly thought of a white lie. “About how your tall ass is blocking my sunlight. Move.” You push at his legs, moving him out of eyeline, knowing that he’s rolling his eyes at you.

“I’m going to be leaving for the weekend. Volleyball finals.” He’s extremely short with his sentences. It’s almost as though if he saves his words for the possibility of insulting someone or something. Still, you’re quite used to his abrupt nature, so you nod.

“Tough competition?”

“Should be.”

“You’ll be fine.” He looks down at you, face still passive and neutral as ever.

And if you were being completely honest, you were getting tired of neutrality.

“I didn’t ask for reassurance.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “It’s called being polite, asshole.”

“Insinuating that I’m worried about my skills for the finals, is polite?” Kei has a kind of glint in his eyes, and a sort of upward tilt on his mouth when he tries to start an argument or tease you. Something that used to drive you crazy a couple of months ago, is now something that you realize you yearn for.

You can’t help but smile back at him. A wide teasing one, and it made your stomach flutter.

“If that’s your interpretation of what I said, maybe you’re projecting.” Kei is about to respond, when the bell to signify the next class rings; one of the only classes you two don’t share. You go to pick up your things.

“I’ll be heading home early today. So I’ll see you later, yeah?” Kei only nods, and with that you’re only somewhat charged conversation dries out. You do your best to hide your disappointment and begin to trudge to your next class; slouched and unsatisfied. The whole class is a blur while you try to settle the slush of agitation at the situation and yourself, because you’ve let your emotions block your education once more. The lunch bell rings but you still haven’t settled yourself.

You walk out of the classroom knowing that you’ll need to teach yourself the lesson once you get home tonight, trying to find a quiet place to sit and relax before your next period. Usually, you’d sit with your group of friends or even Kei if you found him, but you seriously wanted to avoid the possibility of someone asking questions on why your face was on a permanent and unmovable downturn.

And it would’ve gone so well had whatever God not have different plans for you.

“Hey it’s her!” It’s a yell full of excitement and amazement. Like the kind you’d hear at a zoo or festival. It surprises you a little, but the boy’s voice was definitely not directed to you anyways. Probably some girl he’s had eyes on, or something like that. You don’t turn around and keep walking towards the stairwell.

“Hey stop!” The voice again.

Okay, that felt a little directed towards you.

You look around, to find a lot of people staring at you and somewhere behind you.

Shit. Those calls were for you, weren’t they?

You slowly turn around, trying to keep your grimace at a minimum when you spot the source of the voice. A short, ginger-haired boy with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on a person waving at you like a maniac as he jogged towards you, being accompanied by a taller dark-haired boy that seemed to have a permanent look of disdain on his face.

Like night and day.

“Can…Can I help you?” You ask meekly, your eyes shifting to the other students heavy and unyielding stare, extremely confused as to what they wanted. You couldn’t shake the thought that the both of them looked somewhat familiar…

“I’m Hinata Shouyo! And this guy’s name is Kageyama!” The ginger pointed to himself and his friend respectively, and then it clicked. “And we’re—”

“You’re Kei’s teammates, aren’t you? From volleyball?” Hinata smiles wide, nodding enthusiastically, while he goes to open his mouth when Kageyama cuts in. “You really do call that pretentious shit ‘Kei’.”

It wasn’t even a question, moreso a statement of bewilderment as you hear Hinata’s hiss of warning to the taller player. You didn’t know how to respond, only laughing nervously with a hint of strain in your voice. “Force of habit I guess? Listen, I really gotta—”

“Wait, we need your help!” That made you pause. What could they possibly need you for?

Did something happen with Kei again?

You wait for him to continue. Hinata takes a deep breath like he’s been preparing for this. You have to hold back a slight chuckle at the ridiculous amount of effort he seems to be putting in.

“Your first language is English right?” Ah. Immediately you knew where this was headed.

It was quite clear that you were a foreigner. Your Japanese wasn’t perfect, and there was the more obvious hint that you weren’t Japanese. As well, being in the countryside didn’t help you in looking in-place.

Far from it actually.

Most days you stuck out like a sore thumb. But you didn’t mind it as it never really caused you any harm or benefit. What it did cause though, was an increase in people thinking you were some kind of Messiah in English.

Yes you were in an advanced English class, despite being a first-year, but still. The assumption in itself got you a lot of requests for help with test prep, assignments, readings…

Hell, Kei’s asked you to look over something at least once.

Your expression turned tired as you gave a simple nod. They seem to sense your mood shift. “W-well, we both have this huge assignment due, and you probably know we have the nationals this weekend,” You remember Kei mentioning it earlier.

He never said it was the nationals though. Must be pretty damn important.

You’re a little upset he didn’t tell you just how important it was.

“—We don’t want to let the team down, but if we don’t finish it, we can’t go! Will you help us?” Hinata’s pleading places you back in reality, looking into the desperate eyes of the two boys. Kageyama passionately yells out a ‘Please!’ causing you to step back a little in surprise. You hesitate, unable to keep their unyielding gaze. You really want to tell them that you can’t, make up some fake situation you urgently need to attend to.

But Volleyball is really important to Kei, and you don’t know if you could be at the hands of the team’s loss. Even if it is second-hand.

Plus, these two terrors seemed unrelenting.

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your eyes a little. “I… Guess I could look them over?” You could’ve sworn you saw stars in their eyes.

The next few moments were a slew of praise, thanks and plans becoming instantly created as to how you were going to your evening.

And your lunch.

[hotcryptidsinyourarea]

Falling for the Frogman of Loveland, Ohio

story synopsis: Molly is a 30-something cookbook editor who has decided to move from New York to Loveland, Ohio after a bad breakup and a desire for a fresh start. She is instantly attracted to her neighbor Jeremiah's midwestern charms, but this local guy is much more than meets the eye...

human (she/her) + interdimensional humanoid frogman (he/him)

cw: social anxiety, negative self-talk, hetero heavy petting, terror, loss of consciousness

Chapter 4

I sleep in a bit late the next morning. The exhaustion from moving is catching up with me, but with the storage pod on the way, I need to start the day restored. And fueled. I’m thinking cheesy motherfuckin’ eggs and potatoes. And since I need to stay in the house in case the storage pod shows up, I’ll be making my own coffee this morning. So the first thing I do is grab the silver canister of pre-ground beans and set the moka pot up on the stove. Then I preheat the oven, set up my cast iron skillet on a burner, and start chopping the potatoes.

I have just popped the skillet with the sauteed potatoes, eggs, and cheese into the oven to bake when I get an alert on my phone letting me know the pod should be in my driveway in the next hour or so. While I appreciate the expediency, I still feel pretty low on energy and I am not looking forward to unloading the rest of my earthly belongings by myself. My only hope is that the holy trinity of carbs, protein, and fat in my breakfast give me the fuel to push through. And perhaps more coffee. I start the moka pot again before I even finish my first cup. 

The delivery and unloading of the pod itself is easy enough. I sign for it and confirm the scheduled time for its pickup. Once he’s gone, I unlock the padlock and pull up on the door to open it. Well, I try to. The space between the bottom of the door and the ground only grows by a few inches before it’s stuck. I bend at the knees to get my body weight as under it as possible and push up, but it doesn’t budge. 

Fuck. 

I struggle with it some more, but the thing must be off its track or bent because I cannot get the pod open. Maybe I should’ve asked the delivery guy to stay until I had it open in case of something like this. I didn’t even think about it. I keep trying to get it to budge, shaking it as hard as I can in hopes of bumping something back into its place, but my efforts are in vain. I am breaking out in a sweat and getting winded from the exertion. Worse of all, I’m beginning to feel frustrated, angry, and dangerously on the verge of tears. 

“Need any help with that?” a familiar voice says. Jeremiah looks even better today than he did yesterday, if that’s even possible. He’s wearing black sweatpants, a black tank top, and what looks like a very well-loved pair of black sneakers. It’s so unfair how little effort hot guys need in order to look good. I bet he uses 3-in-1 shampoo/conditioner/body wash and still looks this good. Meanwhile, I’m a sweaty and flustered mess who can’t open a storage pod. Time to play into the damsel-in-distress archetype, I guess. 

“It couldn’t hurt if you tried,” I say. “I’ve been failing for a while now.” 

“Let me see what I can do,” he says. Jeremiah crouches down on the ground and kind of shakes the door from the bottom. After getting a feel for the amount of stuck the door is, he gets in a squat position all the way to the ground. He looks over his shoulder and winks at me. 

“You’re going to want to stand clear.” 

Jeremiah takes a deep breath and then in a swift, powerful motion uses all of his considerable lower body strength to spring his entire body weight up and into the door. It slides up into the open position like it was never stuck in the first place. I’m embarrassed, honestly, and make a mental note to sign up for a gym as soon as possible. I had no idea I was so weak. Or maybe Jeremiah is just freakishly strong…?

No. I’m definitely the problem here. 

“Thank you so much. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if I couldn’t get it up. I MEAN– OPEN!” I correct myself on the unintended innuendo but feel a hot flush crawl across my skin. “I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t get it open. Sorry. I mean, thank you. Again.” 

Jeremiah has a shit eating grin on his face, clearly enjoying watching me squirm. “Don’t worry about it. Getting it up comes pretty easily for me.” 

I want to melt into the pavement. A pink blush spreads across my face. “Well you certainly made it look easy. Thank you, again.” I make a move into the pod and pick up the first liftable box to take it inside. There’s a dolly in here somewhere, but I’m frazzled to the point of needing the simplest task to accomplish at the moment. But my accomplishment is cut short before it’s made as Jeremiah takes the box out of my arms. 

“Let me help you with that.” 

“Oh, no. I mean, thank you, but this is my junk and I should unload it. I can unload it. I have a dolly in here somewhere for the heavier boxes.” 

“I’m certain you can unload them all on your own. But you don’t have to because I am here to help.” Jeremiah turns and heads inside the house with the box in hands. It’s hard to argue with that. 

With Jeremiah’s assistance, I get the pod unloaded in a third of the time. Not only is the man crazy strong, but he apparently also has super stamina that enables him to haul boxes twice as fast as it takes me to load them on a dolly and roll them inside. I’d feel bad about working him so hard if he didn’t seem so happy to do it. 

“Thank you– again– so much for your help,” I tell him after slamming the door to the empty pod shut. “You made my day so much easier. The least I can do is offer you a beer. I picked up a six pack of some local stuff that’s waiting in my fridge. Would you like one?” 

“Absolutely. I’d love a beer.” 

We head inside the kitchen and I grab a couple cans of beer from the refrigerator. I hand Jeremiah his. “The can design caught my eye, but the name is what sold me. ‘Beer for Humans.’ By Rhinegeist. Local stuff, love that.” 

“Haha,” his laugh is short and seems artificial. “Well, it’s certainly for me, then. What with my being human.” He opens his can and takes a long drink. I do the same, but from the corner of my eye I take in the long lines of his neck as he swallows. I want to lick it. I hope he doesn’t notice me staring. 

“Honestly, I owe you a lot more than a beer,” I tell him. “Can I buy you lunch? Or if you have someplace to be, maybe dinner at another time?” 

He gives me a half grin and runs his fingers through his hair and down to the nape of his neck where he rubs it sheepishly.  “Oh… I don’t know. I don’t think I can let you pay for our first meal together.” 

What the fuck does THAT mean? Oh, girl, you know what that means.  No I don’t. He could be an asshole with masculinity so fragile he can’t accept a woman being able to pay for a meal.  Does he really seem like that? You know he doesn’t. And even if he is kind of old fashioned, there is still the implication that he wants a date. That’s what he’s trying for.  I don’t know that! GIRL WHERE IS YOUR SELF-ESTEEM? DID YOU LOSE IT? DID IT GET MISPLACED DURING THE MOVE? 

Wait… how long have I been silent? Must say something. 

“Jeremiah, are you hitting on me?” The words fly out of my mouth. 

Well. That’s certainly something. 

Jeremiah’s face blooms red and his eyes go wide. He’s embarrassed. It’s cute. 

“I was going for ‘flirting’ more than ‘hitting on.’ Moreso cute and endearing than aggressive. Fuck, did I mess it up?”

No, but I might have. 

“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. You are being very kind. But I’ve been experiencing a bit of a culture shock here and I’m not confident in my interpretation skills.” 

“You’re telling me that men in New York don’t offer to buy dinner for lovely women such as yourself?” 

“Um…” I stall. “I mean, some men do. I’m sure. But I don’t think I’m the kind of woman those guys are looking for. They’re more interested in women who are looking to be taken care of.” 

“And you don’t need to be taken care of?” 

I’m suddenly feeling very exposed. “Yeah, I don’t know. I guess… not really. I’ve always had my shit together. There’s not much a guy can do for me that I can’t adequately do for myself.” 

“So what exactly do you get out of being with one?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. Companionship, I suppose. Someone to go with me to work functions and birthday parties. Maybe run errands together.”

“That’s it?” 

“I mean, I’m not asking anyone to do more than that.” 

“You shouldn’t have to ask. They should want to take care of you. Did you take care of them?” 

“Sure, guys always need a little help softening the rough edges in their lives. But I don’t mind being there for someone I care about. I never did anything I didn’t want to do” 

“So let me get this straight,” he says. “These guys– these boyfriends of your past– got to have a beautiful woman on their arm who put in the effort to make their lives easier and more comfortable just because you cared and in return they were just… there? That is a one-sided deal.” 

“Well, when you put it that way, I sound pretty stupid.” 

“No,” he says, dropping his tone to emphasize that he’s being serious. “You are not stupid for being giving and loving. They are stupid for not treating you with the same care and love. And they’re stupid for letting you get away.” Now it’s my turn to blush. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. “But, personally,” he continues, “I’m glad they were so stupid. Maybe if they were smarter, you wouldn’t have ended up here. In Loveland. Having a beer with me.” 

I do not know what to do with a man being so forthright and vulnerable. After so long in the city, I think I might be jaded to the possibilities of the world. You get stuck in a microcosm and forget that there’s so much more out there than the minutiae of that which is familiar. But Jeremiah’s openness feels so different than the emotionally guarded people I’m used to, it’s almost inhuman. Or maybe he’s actually the most human and all of us cynical assholes are the ones missing something essential. 

“So tell me, Molly,” he continues, unfazed. “What’s a guy like me gotta do to get a chance to take care of you?” 

I am– as is the parlance of our times– gagged. I must look like a fish with my mouth hung open wide. Or maybe not a fish, considering the way Jeremiah looks at my open mouth and ever-so-slightly bites his lip at the sight. 

“I’ll make you a deal,” he goes on. “Let me take you to dinner and I’ll help you learn how to be taken care of.” 

I bark out a quick laugh. “Who’s entering into one-sided deals, now?” 

“You giving me a chance is not one-sided. I promise you. Let me take you to dinner.” 

“Okay. It’s a deal. A date. It’s a deal and a date. I’d love to get dinner with you.” 

Jeremiah’s smile beams. “Great! Let’s say I pick you up at seven. Does that work?” 

“I’ll be here ready for you,” I answer, but I have to avert my gaze away from him. When I’m feeling shy, eye contact can be difficult. 

“Awesome,” he puts a finger under my chin and gently touches it, prompting me to look him in the eye again. It’s encouraging, not antagonistic. “Don’t worry about dressing up. The place we’re going to is casual, so wear what’s comfortable.” 

Damn. I didn’t even have to ask about the dress code. I think this is the first time a guy has ever thought about that little aspect of going out before I had the chance. Is Jeremiah for real? 

Well, his touch on my chin feels real And the shoulder muscles that his tank top is gracing look real. And all those boxes from storage are really in my house right now. All in all, things are seemingly real enough. Let’s see if he really shows up this evening. 

____________________________________________________________________________

“He’s hiding something.” My friend Haoyu, who is back in New York, is talking to me on speakerphone while I get ready for dinner. Back in the city, he has a few hours before he’ll even venture out the door for his nighttime diversions. Meanwhile, I’m leaning over the bathroom vanity smudging kohl around my eyes. “No guy is that perfect without a catch,” he says. 

“I don’t disagree, in principle,” I say with my mouth stretched open because that, for some reason, makes it easier to do my eyeliner. “But I haven’t witnessed any glaring red flags just yet, so it’s unfair to assume he’s outright deceptive.” 

“I bet he’s a Republican. Wait, no– a LIBERTARIAN. Oh no, I’ve got it: HE. LISTENS. TO. JOE. ROGAN.” 

I shudder. These things could very well be true. I am in Ohio. These midwestern men have that reputation. 

“I’m sure whatever’s wrong with him will come out during dinner. Then at the end of the night, I can thank him for his warm welcome and moving help, then go home by myself. No harm, no foul.” 

“Yeah, until he murders you and buries your bodies in the middle of kicker-shit Ohio because you bruised his fragile male ego by rejecting him.”

“HAOYU! Don’t put that kind of curse on me. Take that back!” 

“What? That’s what happens in places like that. They try to act like it’s some innocent idyllic heartland, but in actuality it’s a façade covering up a dark, seedy, sinister underbelly.”

“This from the guy who went to five different dungeon parties in the Hamptons last summer.”

“Shut up, you bitch. I can’t believe you left me to move to fucking Ohio. This city isn’t the same without you.”

“The city is exactly the same without me. The clubs you eventually make it to tonight will still be loud and the guys there will still be horny for your cute ass. And I will be having a quiet night in, just like I would when I was there. Only now I’m here.” 

“In stank ass Ohio.” 

“Yes, Hao, in Ohio. Where you are more than welcome to visit me anytime you wish.”

“Bitch, what the FUCK am I going to do in Ohio?” 

“Watch shitty reality television with me and drink wine til we pass out?” 

Haoyu sighs, “That does have its appeal. But I still miss you here and now.” 

“Darling,” I say, “I miss you even when we’re right next to each other.”

“Oh I love you, Molly. Never change.”

“Literally never.” 

“You know, you can’t keep me from worrying about you.  I mean, if you’re murdered by some buckeye boytoy, who do I have left? Troian? They don’t know a Kelly from a Birkin.” 

“You don’t have a Kelly or a Birkin.” 

“You know what? I hope the motherfucker does kill you now.” 

“You just said you love me!”

“More than life, bitch. Share your location with me before you go out with this stranger?”

“That I can do for you. And if you get a call from the cops tomorrow: he says his name is Jeremiah and he lives on my street.” 

“A strong lead for any missing person’s case.”

“I live for the convenience of others.”

“Girl, I can’t with you. BYYYYEEE!” and the line is cut. That’s my best friend! Wouldn’t be here without him. 

I finish my makeup and go ahead and do the Share My Location thing with Haoyu before I forget. Jeremiah said to dress casual, but I realize that “casual” might mean something different in Ohio versus Manhattan. I end up choosing a black maxi dress– one of those special items of clothing that can look just as appropriate at a burger joint as it is in a steakhouse. Hopefully wherever we’re going tonight doesn’t fall outside of that spectrum in either way. 

I’m still a bit dizzy by the way my day is unfolding. I woke up this morning assuming I would spend it sweating my ass off unloading boxes then finishing it with a dinner of one of those skillet pasta-for-two meals for one (me.) 

But now, I am preening in the mirror to get ready for a date with a hot guy who may or may not murder me. And here I was worried that life outside of New York would be boring. I don’t remember the last time a guy simply offered to buy me dinner because he wanted a chance with me. When Mark and I first started dating, we’d meet at the bar and split tabs. 

Jeremiah rings the doorbell at 7:02. On time, but not overly eager. He’s good. 

I open the door and there he is, looking great in fitted brown chinos, a white t-shirt, and an unbuttoned plaid flannel with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He puts his hand over the left side of his chest, pretending to clutch at his heart. 

“Molly, wow. You look beautiful,” he smiles warmly. “Are you hungry?” 

“I am! Nothing like unpacking every item you own to build up an appetite.” 

“Perfect. This place is about 20 minutes away, but I can get us there in 15 if the wind’s good.” 

He has such a sweet sense of humor. Being around him puts a genuine smile on my face. Damn. I am not looking forward to finding out what is wrong with this guy. 

Jeremiah offers me his arm and walks me to his hybrid SUV. The fact that he’s driving a hybrid does not go unnoticed– probably not a red hat kind of guy with a fuel efficient vehicle, right? I have no idea if I’m really honest with myself. Some people in this world are so far from my social orbit, they might as well be aliens.

Jeremiah opens the car door for me. He is really committed to this gentleman bit. As I settle into the passenger seat, he climbs into his side and starts the car. I brace myself for Dude Talk radio or top 40 hits, but instead the familiar sounds of The Clash flow from the speakers. 

Okay, Molly, maybe cool it on assuming the worst for a bit. He’s effortlessly proving you wrong at every turn, so it’s wasted energy. 

After a short drive, we pull up to the restaurant. It’s an unassuming little Korean barbeque joint nestled in a shopping center with an Asian market and what looks to be a Tai Chi spa. 

“Do you like Korean?” Jeremiah asks me. 

“Absolutely! Do you?” 

Jeremiah feigns offense. “What? You think because I’m some provincial schmuck from Ohio, I don’t know the finer points of international cuisine?” 

I laugh. “I know you’re not some provincial schmuck because no provincial schmuck would ever say ‘provincial schmuck.’”

“Fair enough! Either way, this place is amazing. Even the reddest of necks can enjoy it.” 

“Well, by all means lead the way.” 

____________________________________________________________________________

Jeremiah was right about the restaurant. Dinner was spectacular. We got tteokbokki and pajeon to start and then split grilled short ribs and buttered scallops at the table. We drank beer and soju and spent the entire evening laughing. Jeremiah has plenty of stories to tell about the rag tag band of misfits he calls friends. 

“Most of them live in Cincinnati, so I will drive in to hang out,” he tells me. “But every once and a while they’ll come out to the ‘burbs to see me. Especially if I bribe them with BBQ.” 

“You have to bribe them?” 

“I know, I know. But don’t get them wrong–they’re great people. They just hate driving anywhere more than a five mile radius from their places. I don’t take offense to it. You get into your 30s and you really start to enjoy the beauty of staying the fuck in. They’re always trying to talk me into moving closer to the city– then I wouldn’t have to bribe them with smoked meats to hang out. But I don’t want to move. I like the neighborhood. And as of late, neighbor, it’s gotten even better.” He gives me the subtlest wink and takes a swig of beer. 

Damn. He is good. 

After Jeremiah pays the bill to the joyous woman working the register at the back of the restaurant, we head back home. I am thoroughly impressed at this point. I don’t think I’ve had this much fun on a good old fashioned date since I was a teenager. If Jeremiah is secretly a murderer fattening me up for the slaughter, then I might as well moo. With a full stomach and the warm haze of soju relaxing me, I’m less inclined to pick him apart looking for whatever’s wrong with him. In fact, I’m feeling more inclined to take care of him once we get back to my place after an evening of him taking care of me. 

We pull up to my place, but he doesn’t cut his engine off before he hops out to open my door for me. We walk to my front porch and I turn to him. 

“Thank you for dinner. I had a really great time.” I look up at him from behind heavy, hooded eyes. I hope they look seductive and not just sleepy. I silently will him to close the distance between us and kiss me. 

I guess someone, somewhere hears my prayers because Jeremiah weaves his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck and gently pulls me towards him as he bends into me. His kiss is fucking amazing. He’s commanding without being overly controlling, letting me ease into him while providing a sturdy base to hold us. He’s enthusiastic, but not aggressive. I feel flames through my body and I begin aching with need in a way long forgotten by me. 

“Would you like to come in?” I ask. My voice is hushed and breathy to the point I almost don’t recognize it as my own. 

Jeremiah lets out a frustrated groan. “Fuuuuck, Molly. I do. I really do. But I can’t. Not tonight.” 

“Oh. Okay. That’s fine,” I lie. “I just thought…” He stops me with another kiss. 

“No, Molly,” he punctuates each point with a new kiss, a new spot each time. “You have… no idea… how bad… I want to…” Jeremiah lingers, kissing my mouth on that one. I feel his left hand tracing the curves of my body, memorizing them by touch. His lips travel to the crook of my neck and I lean into the door to give him better access. 

“Not tonight,” he says. “I want to, but I can’t tonight. Don’t count me out, though,” he looks me in the eyes. “I want you, Molly. But I have to do this right.” 

I nod my head in understanding, even if my head and my body are in complete disagreement here. 

“Yeah, I understand. It’s okay. Really. We have nothing but time, right?” 

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me long and deep. When he breaks it off and stares me in the eye, I see a quiet anguish in them, like he’s struggling with his own internal battle between his better sense and the possibilities of what may lie on the other side of my front door. He kisses me again, firm but perfunctory, and groans against my mouth. I wonder what kind of groans I could elicit from him with my mouth around his cock, relaxing gradually until he breaches the back of my throat and I slide the complete length of him inside me. Fuck, I want to do that to him so bad. 

“Tonight when you get in your bed and under your sheets, know that I’ll be in mine thinking of you, Molly. I’ll be thinking about this,” his hands smooth over and down my body, “every second until I fall asleep. And then some more in my dreams.” He turns to leave and takes a step before doing a heel turn to face me again, pinning me against the door again for another blistering kiss. This time, he gently grabs my wrist and guides it to his leg, prompting me to run my fingers over the rock hard length of him pressing against his chinos. 

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Even under the clothes I can tell it’s an amazing cock. I want it. If not tonight, then fucking soon. I’m grateful that he took the initiative to show he wants me too. I’d probably go crazy wondering if he didn’t. 

“And if you find yourself tonight thinking about me,” Jeremiah whispers in my ear, “don’t be afraid to let me know.” He gently nips at my earlobe with his incisors and plants a final kiss on my forehead before he does an awkward little jog back to his car. He hops in and waves goodbye before he pulls out of my driveway and back into the night. I head inside and lock the front door behind me, booking it straight to my bedroom. I have to relieve the ridiculous excess of tension this man has wound up inside me. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Between the soju and the intense orgasm I gave myself thinking about all the things I want to do to Jeremiah, I am pretty relaxed. But the need he’s riled within simply refuses to be sated. All this dude had to do is act like a gentleman to me and it’s made me hornier than I’ve been in years. It makes you wonder why more men don’t try this. Do guys know what a powerful aphrodisiac respect is? Are they cognizant of all the dirty, decidedly unladylike things we want to do after being treated like a lady in the first place? They probably don’t care. 

I’m in the middle of one such unladylike dream– something along the lines of Jeremiah bending me over a counter and fucking me from behind so hard I can feel it in my throat– when a loud crash completely wakes me up. Once I get my bearings, I look to the window where bright flashes pierce the dark of night. I hear the wind rustle violently and the sharp thuds of heavy raindrops pelt the roof above me. Damn. Storms out here hit differently than they do in the city. There’s a violence to them. 

I pry myself from bed and go to the kitchen to get a drink. It’s not unusual for me to wake up with a dry mouth after having Korean barbeque. Something about soy sauce and soju leaves me dehydrated as hell. I make myself a glass of ice water and lean against the kitchen counter while listening to the rain outside grow heavier and wilder. I open my laptop to look at the forecasts and do a quick search for “tornadoes southern Ohio.” From what I can deduce, I’m relatively safe for the night, if only disrupted by the cacophony of the storm. 

Then as if time with a particularly strong gust, my power goes out. My laptop still lights up but my internet is out. The lights on my appliances go dark and the hall light I turned on between my bedroom and the kitchen is off. I’m still in the middle of unpacking some of my things. I wouldn’t know the first place to look for my flashlight even if I had light to look for it with. I feel my way back to my bedroom and blindly grab at my mattress until I find my phone laying on it. I was an idiot and didn’t plug it in before I fell asleep and now it’s down to 31% power. Great. I plug it in to my bedside charger and hope the power will be back on before I wake up. 

____________________________________________________________________________

It’s 7 am when I awake and the rain is relentless. It’s dreary, dark, and gray outside. The power still seems to be out. My phone is drained to 24%. Good morning to me. 

I use the restroom and brush my teeth in the dark. There’s just enough morning light that I’m not bumping into things, but considering this place is still pretty new to me, I won’t beat myself up for having to run my hands across the walls to navigate my way into the kitchen. I fumble around in the drawers until I find the heavy duty pair of scissors I use to open boxes. I might as well start unpacking what I can in hopes that I stumble upon my flashlight or maybe even some candles. 

After about five or six boxes, I begin to wonder if I ever owned a flashlight in the first place because I am simply not finding one. I’m pretty certain I spent money on a heavy duty one back  in the city, but maybe I left it there in my old apartment. Maybe Mark took it with him when he left me. Or perhaps I put it in a box that was sucked into another dimension. It has to be one of those options– definitely no room for anything else. 

Okay, I’m obviously going crazy here. 

All search and no find makes Molly a daffy bitch. 

Maybe it’s time to ask for some help. Didn’t Jeremiah say I could come to him if I needed anything? If he didn’t say it, it definitely seems like something he would say. I bet he has flashlights abound. He may even know how to get my power back on. Or he may have power at his house and will let me hang out until mine comes back on. 

God, how ridiculously sad would it be for me to show up at his door sopping wet and helpless in the face of my first midwestern storm? Pretty sad. Or possibly… hot? He does seem like the type of guy who loves to play White Knight. Would it be so bad for me to lean into the Damsel-in-Distress role? 

Only one way to find out. 

I change into an oversized hoodie and sweatpants that may not keep me dry, but are better than any other clothing options I have on hand. I pocket my phone and keys. There’s an umbrella in my car, so I make sure to grab it before I brave the rain. 

I open the door and it’s not letting up one bit. I step into the open air and the rhythm of the drops on my umbrella is deafening. I stick to the sidewalk and head in the direction I saw Jeremiah drive off towards the night before. I see his SUV in the driveway that looks a lot like my house but flipped on the vertical axis, just like he said it was. As I scurry to his front porch, It is obvious there isn’t any light on inside. It looks like nobody is home. That makes sense. It’s the middle of the day, he could be out running errands or seeing friends. Most people have lives that a little rain can’t keep them from living. I ring the doorbell anyways, just in case. But, alas, there is no answer. 

My plan firmly defeated, I start to head back home. But then a SMACK noise nearby catches my attention. Jeremiah’s fence has blown open, leaving his backyard exposed. I decide to be a good neighbor and close it– surely the gate being open, door banging against the posts behind it and flapping in the wind could damage something. I’m new to this homeowners thing, but it seems to me that one would prefer the gate to be closed in such an instance. I pull the handle of the door as it scrapes mud from the ground beneath it. But before I close it completely, something in Jeremiah’s backyard catches my eye. Or rather, someone. 

My heart drops as my brain registers what I’m seeing. That’s a body laying prostrate in the middle of Jeremiah’s yard. At first glance, it looks like they could be unconscious. 

Oh god. It’s Jeremiah. 

He could be dead. He could have fallen out here and hit his head. Lightning could have struck him. 

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

I sprint as fast as I can towards Jeremiah’s still form. A million alarms are going off in my head. At some point, I dropped the umbrella and I can feel the rain soak through my clothes. 

Please don’t be dead. 

Please don’t be dead. 

Please don’t be dead. 

I reach him and it dawns on me: Jeremiah is naked. Also– this man doesn’t quite look like Jeremiah because this man is… blue? Or green. Definitely a blue-green. And his skin is mottled, like it’s covered in goosebumps a shade darker than the general teal of his pallor. Do corpses turn teal? I’m pretty sure that’s not the question I should be asking because from what I can see, this body is alive. Unless dead bodies pulse in and out like they’re breathing. I’m pretty sure that’s more of a live body thing. 

I have no idea who– or what– this is. Fear spreads from my gut to my limbs and I freeze. Then, as if awakened by my change in emotion, the body’s eyes open. Gone are the smiling, kind eyes I stared into across the table at Korean barbeque. In their place are oversized reptilian orbs with elliptical pupils. They go wide at the sight of me, their darkness reflecting the storm clouds above us. 

Someone is screaming. 

Oh shit, it’s me. I’m the one screaming. And I’m not stopping. Even as Jeremiah leaps up from the ground and pulls me into him with one giant, webbed hand while putting the other over my still screaming mouth. It muffles the sound, sure, but I feel the power of the reverberations. That’s the thing about screams of terror, I am now learning: they’re not just some loud noise. They’re the pure power of fear surging through your body. Another thing about terror screams: they are consuming. I feel my energy levels drop even as my screaming refuses to let up. As I lose power, a darkness begins to build around the periphery of my vision. It creeps in slowly until I am no longer present. 

[pro-mammonologist]

Hey there!

For the event how abt soft dom mammon who just wants to take care of MC a bit <3

congrats on 500 btw

God, he tasted like cinnamon and sugar.

It was freezing outside so you decided to simmer some apples and coat them in cinnamon and brown sugar and then gift them to your boyfriend who seemed to get colder faster than anyone out there. You snuggled up together on the sofa facing out to the garden and watched as the snow fell, coating the grounds. He had his paws wrapped around you on your stomach from behind, face stuck in the crook of your neck, smelling your hair. You had leaned back to smile at him leading to one of his usual messy and needy kisses.

Just like cinnamon sugar. You went back for another and eventually, you found yourself shifting so that you were facing him. Mammon eyed your lips, licking his own to savor your taste. By the time you had shifted properly, his hands had traced up and down your thighs and were steadily getting closer to your favorite spot. Or really, his.

“Let me touch ya.” He breathed, soft-spoken but domineering. You let him. It was sensual and romantic, something only you’d ever gotten from him. He wasn’t tossing you like some toy and he wasn’t only focusing only on himself. It was something more than just sex.

“I wanna treat ya, make ya feel good. You say the word and I’ll do whatever you need to feel good.” He squeezed your thighs gently, his head in a gaze he was struggling to resist.

“Yeah, I want you.” You let him take the lead.

“I’m gonna touch ya, okay?” Mammon’s hand tucked itself into your pants but not quite yet past your underwear. He rubbed against you, leaning forward to kiss you once again. You eagerly slipped your tongue in his mouth, sweetness flooding your senses. “Mm…” his moan vibrated up from his throat, deeper than what you’d normally hear from him.

“You taste good.” You made him smile.

“Shouldn’t I be sayin’ that?” He pulled aside your underwear, hand now touching your bare sex. “Do ya want me to get down and taste you too?” He suggested already picking you up and moving you so that your back was against the couch.

“Seems like I have no choice. Not like I’m complaining.” You chuckled, lifting your hips as he pulled your garments down.

Mammon eyed your bare sex, your arousal now presented front and center. He licked his lips once again. “Betcha you’ll taste a lot better than I do.” He dove in, planting his tongue in all the right places.

Mammon, experience likened to that of Asmo’s, even before he ever learned your body, knew what he needed to do to make you feel good. He would follow your commands, making sure to do all that you wanted him to do, then eventually, he’d have you with your legs up over your head with only a simple command. And soon enough, you would be cumming in mere minutes.

You loved to watch him, a focus you’d only see when he was fiddling with dice, doing calculations in his head, or preparing to place a card down. Truly, when his tongue was on you, it was as though his greed would manifest just as much. Pushing his head away was always such a compliment yet such a drag. He wanted more. To taste you more. To feel the inside of you more. More and more.

Mammon lifted your legs so that they’d be wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him toward you. You had apologized for wanting head before since he’d be getting no pleasure from it. But he had told you exactly what was about to come out of his mouth again.

“You think yer the selfish one?” He let spit roll off of his tongue and onto your groin. “When you get greedy, I get greedier.”

Note: a bit short but I felt the last paragraph would be a good ending… mammon is cumdrunk <3

[amateurmasksmith]

The Frog and the Infant, Chapter 3

Play the Part

Author’s Notes: It… got away from me, yeah. (also, thank you SO MUCH to Dazey for letting me send them my progress - You’re the best, dude!)

Warnings: Unreality/internal inconsistency/other shenanigans?

ping list: @radioactive-dazey @britt-ish123 @randomnerd737 (anyone else wanna be added?)

_______

Having decided to go, Janus soon found himself arriving on the island, which was alive with the sounds of trilling insects and calling birds.

He and Roman ventured further inland in search of food - Janus keeping his sword at-the-ready at all times, always peering into the shadows to look for movement, and treating every sudden noise as a potential warning sign for an ambush.

Roman was singing through Disney’s entire catalog.

“You can relax, my friend,” Roman paused singing to say. even though they were anything but

“Huh?” Janus replied, confused by the sudden interruption.

“I can tell you’re getting nervous,” Roman said, smiling, “So do yourself a service, and try to relax, my friend!” this wasn’t right

Janus rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Princey.” but it was nice

Roman strode up just like his brother next to him, and leaned his weight amicably on Janus’ shoulder.

“Think of all that we have been through,” Roman said.

He’d rather not, thank you. how much of it was his own fault? how much was inevitable?

Roman continued, “We’ll survive what we get into.”

Janus walked out from under his arm, and watched as he stumbled and stuck out his tongue.

“I know that you’re tired of the war and bloodshed,” Roman persisted, “but, tell me, is this how we’re supposed to live?”

Janus was fine. how long had he been fine? Thomas was alive. but was he living?

Roman gestured towards Janus, “Look at how you grip your sword, enough said!”

Janus manually adjusted his posture to be more relaxed, and glared at Roman.

“Why should we wait when we could live?” Roman pressed on, grabbed Janus’ hand, and pulled him along as he ran through a much more winding, carefree route.

“You know you will have to earn their trust then-” “You can’t stop or lower your guard!” “Here we have a chance to stop their judgment. We have to try, I know it’s hard.”

The two of them ran along fallen logs to cross a brook, with Roman coming up with new lyrics to ‘Over the River and Through the Woods.’

Janus muttered something about how trees should only be climbed vertically as he trudged forward.

Roman snapped two sticks off of the logs and brandished one like a sword - Then tossed one over to Janus, who caught it in his off-hand that wasn’t already holding a real sword.

“This world is a stage, and,” Roman decreed, “someday soon we will play the part!”

can they?

Roman must have noticed Janus’ hesitation, as he put down the stick, and strode closer to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Whatever we face,” he said they have the same-, “we’ll be fine if we’re leading from the Heart.”

Would they? had they?

“We’ll soon find our place, we can light up the world,” Roman continued, “and leave our mark.”

“Someday soon we’ll play the part,” Roman grinned mischievously, before he pushed Janus off the log towards the water.

Janus flailed a normal number of arms as he fell down,

down,

Down.

He landed, Somewhere. a dark void

A spotlight? a stage

“WELCOME.”

“Stay back!” Janus shouted, using his sword staff to move Joan Roman behind him.

“STAY BACK?”

Roman put a hand on Janus’ elbow, nudging his sword down. “My friend, someday soon we’ll play the part.”

“We’re only here for truth food?,” Janus continued, sword down, but cautious.

“TRUTH…”

He spoke to the void them. they hadn’t spoken in some time

“Six hundred men are waiting,” Janus warned. “If we don’t get back safely, my men will turn this place into blazes!”

“YOU KNOW.”

The spotlight turned off.

There was nothing but the void.

Nothing but the truth.

Janus was alone. right?

Then, there was light.

Colors,

sounds,

shapes.

“See!” Roman exclaimed joyfully, gesturing at the creatures in the middle distance.

Right. The creatures.

Not a void, not a stage not that stage, not a disembodied voice that didn’t speak in unthoughts…

The creatures, that were bringing them food.

Bringing them food, for Janus, the ship’s Captain, to bring back to his men, who all had recognizable human features, and liked bread and beer.

Yes.

Right.

Roman paused his frolicking for just a moment to turn and beam at Janus.

“This life is amazing, when you greet it with open arms!” he said, “Whatever we face, we’ll be fine if we’re leading from the Heart!”

Roman continued frolicking around the field, occasionally stopping to pick up one of the creatures and put it on his shoulder.

“We’ll soon find our place,” Roman said, placing a summoned pair of sunglasses on one of the creatures, “we can light up the world and leave our mark.”

Janus felt a tug on his pant leg tunic, and looked down to see one of the creatures offering a fruit that it had drug over.

He picked it up, and turned it over in his hand - It was about the size of a mango, but lighter than he had expected.

Janus pulled it open, tearing it in two to reveal…

“My friend,” Janus said the word a strange texture, as he stopped Roman from eating the fruit, “I wish that I could say that I believed.”

He pulled Roman away, and showed him the fruit.

“But look at the way this fruit is glowing, and filled with glowing seeds,” Janus continued.

“It took me a while to notice just what kind of fruit they eat - It’s a Lotus; It controls your mind, and never lets you free.”

Janus dropped the Lotus fruit in disgust, and grabbed Roman’s arm to lead them back towards the shore. “That’s what we’d get playing that part.”

Roman tugged his arm free, and turned back to the creatures, “Lotus Eaters, I’d like to show my friend that kindness is brave.”

He kneeled down to their level, and asked, “Could you tell me where there’s other truth to see food to eat?”

“CAVE!” STAGE…

“A cave!” Roman jumped up from his knees, “You’re saying there's a cave where we could feast!”

He turned to Janus, smiling as he asked, “And where do we sail to find this food-filled cave?”

“EAST.” BETRAY

Roman’s smile grew into a shit-eating grin. “Thank you!”

He kneeled back down for a moment, arms out - The Lotus Eaters all piled up against him in a fuzzy group hug. had they, before?

Roman stood back up, and the two of them finally started walking back to the ship.

Just before they left the island, Roman turned to Janus, and stopped him by nudging his arm and repeating, “This world is a stage, and someday soon we will play the part.”

“I see in your face, there is so much guilt inside your heart,” he continued saying all the things no-one had dared. “We might not replace it, but we’ll light up the world and leave our mark.”

Roman brought him in for a hug.

if only it was real

As they stood there on the beach, Roman half-said, half-whispered, “Someday soon we’ll play the part. Take a risk and bare your heart.”

Janus echoed, “Someday soon we’ll play the part.”

maybe it wasn’t, just, a fantasy…

“You can relax, my friend.”

[karikarasuno]

sonder ch. i

Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader x Levi Ackerman

Rating: Mature

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Character Introductions, Setting Descriptions, Fun Little Friendship Development

Word Count: 6.3k

song(s) for the chapter: left side by eloise, let me go by ogi

a/n: today snuck up on me, so please enjoy if you decide to read. this chapter is mainly just a lot of establishing this little world i worked to create. also, each chapter will be accompanied by a few songs bc i curated a very lengthy playlist for this bad boy. have fun and thank you<3

masterlist | chapter i | chapter ii

It was a matter of principle. A finite decision that you shouldn’t regret, but couldn’t help to. Goodbyes were abstract. Conceptual. But they held enough weight to drag your shoulders to the earth and your body ached. From head to toe. 

It was a matter of principle. But maybe it shouldn’t be yours. Even so, it was much too late to turn back now. 

The bricks were a burnt red. Stacked tightly on top of each other to present to you your new home. The metal stairs leading up to the door were rusted, slightly corroded from decades of being exposed to the elements, and the matching gate was really in no better shape. The rest of the block looked identical. A row of Victorian brownstones, historically standing on the west end of the city. Surviving a century of life, love, and bullshit. 

Your palm was sticky where it met the plastic handle of your suitcase. The sun beared down with the pressure of impending war, but the light breeze that cut through the valleys of the tall buildings provided you with some relief. The key was buried somewhere in the bottom of your purse, having fallen there semi-forgotten as you lugged only a quarter of your belongings from home. Or what used to be home. Because you were staring at your new home. The pit in your chest dropping to your stomach with the realization. 

The latch on the small gate was stuck when you pulled on it, the metal rusted enough not to allow it to remove itself seamlessly. And sweat started to gather at your brow and right between your shoulder blades. A single droplet slipped its way down the curve of your spine and frustration started to build when your damp fingers slid over the rough, orange metal. You bent your body forward, using whatever upper body strength you had and finally pulled away the latch with a squeaky screech from the gate. 

Since it was midday during the week, there weren’t many people on the street to witness your embarrassing stunt. Just you and the sun. Which seemed to be taunting you with the way your body rose in temperature and your cheeks overheated. Your luggage clinked against each step as you made your way to your door, your purse falling from its place on your shoulder and finding solace in the crook of your elbow. Where you could hear the keychain jingle with every slap the bag made against your calf. You were really starting to regret just tossing the keys in your purse after you picked them up from the realty office on the opposite side of the city. Your hands doing nothing, but fumbling around the contents of your purse in vain. 

The train passed your area somewhere in the distance. The sound was so loud it resembled a sudden downpour or white noise. Your fingers looped through the keychain, a puff of relief falling from your lips as you yanked it from your purse, a loose chapstick flying out and landing with a silent thump in the dried out garden. You suppressed an eye roll, this move had been less than ideal and it didn’t help that you haven’t slept in a week. You pushed the memories from back home to the furthest corner of your mind, the ache in your chest flaring with the thought and you fought the nausea that’s been swirling around your stomach as you stuck the key in the lock and twisted. 

It was humid inside. The house obviously closed up for a few months before now. You slid your luggage around the empty living room as you looked around and it was unsettling. The idea of building something from scratch on your own. 

You left your family behind. Friends, too. But the disgusting ache in your gut had more to do with your empty ring finger. A thin line lighter than the rest of your complexion served as the only reminder of what you lost. 

With the house so empty, the only thing that accompanied you was the echo of your footfalls as you walked around. You hadn’t been alone in years, not that you were afraid of it. It was just too quiet, too uncomfortable. And items you purchased to fill the space hadn’t arrived yet, your mattress supposedly being delivered later that day, so you would at least have something to sleep on. 

You started your new job on Monday. The job of your dreams. And the only reason you moved halfway across the country with nothing but a large suitcase, a purse, and the idea of feeling whole again. The phone in the back pocket of your jeans vibrated, probably your mother messaging you to ask if you made it okay. But not without the undertone of disappointment for leaving the way you did. 

Admittedly it was abrupt. You had a fiancé, a house together, a cat that you shared, and enough of a perceived reality of what your future would be like to have been happy. You should’ve felt like you had everything and more. But as he followed his dreams, every day it felt more and more like you were leaving yours somewhere in your past. 

You went around and tested all the lights, the space brightening as you made your way through the property. You were pleasantly surprised. Buying a house without touring it first was risky. A decision you made last minute when you couldn’t justify the price of rent being just as much as a mortgage. If not more. 

And you always dreamt of living in a brownstone. It was so different from the cookie cutter suburban neighborhoods you were used to. Something you grew tired of quicker than you’d cared to admit.

But you were oddly starting to miss that familiarity. Especially since you had no boxes, no belongings. Nothing. A sharp loneliness trickled into your bloodstream. Pumping in and out of your heart, and you briefly wondered when the aches would fade. Or if this was a burden you’d have to carry for the rest of your life. 

You unpacked what little belongings you had. Grateful for the hangers left behind by the old owners and the dresser made of thick and sturdy wood pressed into the far corner of the master bedroom. You then decided to stop at the store to buy cleaning supplies from the supermarket a few blocks from your place. And when you arrived home it wasn’t without the company of a sticky sweat and heated cheeks. But you slipped the gloves on anyway, laying out your sprays and scrubs on the kitchen island as you surveyed what you should clean first. 

You started with the bathroom. Already anticipating the shower you’d be taking when all of this was over. And sometime between you scrubbing the grout of the bathroom tile, packages began arriving. Your mattress and some sheets, at first. Then a vacuum you didn’t remember ordering. And much later, a silverware set. The same exact one that had been on your bridal registry. You were positive you didn’t order it because that would be a special kind of torture. And the only person who knew your new address was your mom. So when you pulled it out from inside of the box, a small gift note fluttered out alongside it. 

For when you find someone to eat with again. xo, Mom.

The burn of tears started in the back of your throat. You cleared it to no avail and the burn traveled to your lash line. Wet and stinging. You didn’t want to cry. Not on your first day away from home. You swore you were stronger than this. More resilient. But when a tear spilled over onto your cheek, hot and unexpected, you choked on a sob. Your head fell into your hands and your breathing stuttered from your nose. The note in your hand crumpled where you gripped it, the white card stock darkening when stray tears dotted it as they fell. She meant well and you knew that. But you couldn’t help the bite behind her words that nipped at your skin, digging into the wounds of your heart that you alone created. 

You decided to call it a night. The sun had already set and your home was lit only by artificial light. The shower was cold at first since you didn’t wait long enough for the water to heat up, but you stood beneath the stream anyway— subconsciously doing your nightly routine as if your world was as it’s always been.

Belatedly, you realized that you didn’t have a pillow, or even a real blanket to sleep with. Just a top sheet and a crumpled up ball of clothes. It was humbling, honestly. Going from having almost everything you could’ve dreamt of to an empty house and an emptier heart. But tomorrow you would begin to fill one of those things. The other is disregarded until time proved it really did heal. 

Monday arrived far quicker than you expected it to. The days that led up to it were also busy with errands and organizing and shopping. Your closet was now filled with work appropriate clothing organized by color and type— although you weren’t sure how long that would last. The house was still pretty bare but it was starting to feel more like a home instead of the shell of one. You spent hours building your bed frame, the headboard nearly knocking your head clean off when it tipped over because you didn’t screw it in correctly. The kitchen cabinets had a few dishes in them, your mother’s gift still in the box and shoved into the back corner of the pantry. You had ended up buying your own, feeling too odd and unsteady unpacking the ones from your registry and organizing them into the drawer by the stove. The living room still lacked a couch though, figuring that you could do some online browsing for one whenever you had the time. 

For now, you pulled the train routes up on your phone, your bag strap sitting snugly on your shoulder as you tried to differentiate the color of the lines and their respective destinations. You left your car at your parents’ place, figuring you wouldn’t need it since you didn’t intend on leaving the city much. And traveling by train and Uber seemed so much easier. You kicked at the pavement outside of your little gate as you zoomed into the stops, trying and forgetting the street your office was on. You’d only been there once before you got the position. It was the interview you didn’t tell Onyankopon about. The one that eventually ended your engagement. 

“You lost?” There was a deep voice from your right, friendly sounding yet still scaring the shit out of you. Your shoulders jumped to your ears, your head whipping in the direction of the voice, only to be met with golden blonde hair, a broad chest, and startling blue eyes. His smile was kind. And you weren't sure how a man as large as him was able to sneak up on you.

You were hesitant to answer, not entirely sure you wanted to admit to a stranger that you were new to the area while standing outside of your home. He seemed to notice it though, the brief suspicion that flashed in your eyes because he held out his hand— palm up in invitation.

“Sorry, I should introduce myself,” he chuckled, familiar as if he already knew you. “I’m Erwin, your neighbor.” He pointed with his other hand to the brownstone right beside yours. And unlike yours, that garden was flourishing. Brilliant colors danced in the subtle breeze and you were jealous just looking at it. 

You took his hand in yours, and his grip was firm but not forceful. Warm but not overwhelming in this heat. You gave him your name and a small close lipped smile, but not offering much else. And you didn’t really remember when you became so awkward.

“I can help,” he pointed to your phone where the map was still open where you had zoomed in. “I’ve lived here for long enough, it would be embarrassing if I couldn’t.”

You smiled warmly, tilting the phone in his direction before saying, “I’m trying to get to downtown, but I can’t find which stop takes me closest to First St.”

“Oh, I take the same route every morning too,” he said, zooming in and pointing to the green line. The one that dropped you off on Fourth Avenue. “I work at the university which isn’t too far from First. I can walk with you, if you’d like.” 

The nerves that had been building in your chest all morning started to subside with his offer. He seemed genuine enough. And not like he’d lead you to some dark alley to murder you. Your intuition said to trust him, no alarm bells sirening in the back of your mind either. 

“I’d appreciate that, actually.” You hiked your bag up your shoulder, adjusting the strap to keep it from slipping as you fell into step beside him. 

“There’s also this really good coffee shop as soon as we get off the train. The best Americano I’ve had anywhere.” He talked with his hands, fingers closing against his thumb when he said ‘best’. “I can show you where that is too. It’s called The Brewhouse. They switch up their menu seasonally so it’s nice if you like trying new stuff now and again.”

He also talked a lot. An easy confidence where you could tell that he was used to speaking in front of people, captivating a room naturally. But instead of taking him up on the coffee offer, you gestured towards the mug sitting in the side holder of your bag, “I have coffee for today, so maybe another time.”

“Of course,” he beamed, teeth straight and white. And you wondered if you’ve seen him in a magazine somewhere, his clean cut, boyish charm belonging in some catalog to sell men’s watches or something.

“Are you new to the city or just the area?” He asked as you stepped on the crowded platform to wait for the next northbound train. 

“New to the city,” you said, looking over your phone again to check the time, nervous that you’d be late on your first day. “I just moved from the west coast about a week ago.”

“What made you move?” His question was simple and casual, but a burn rose in your chest anyway. You swallowed to appease it, but it was no use. The feeling only lifted to your throat when you sucked in a small breath. 

“Work,” you nodded, looking down the tracks when you heard the train from afar. “My dream job, actually. A position opened up earlier this year so I applied.”

“Congratulations,” he smiled at you when you met his gaze. And it was genuine. Not at all like the half-baked ones you received back home. All of them underlined with pity and questioning that you were never in the mood to indulge. So when you returned his smile, it was real. For the first time since everything went up in flames, there was a semblance of comfort in the decision you had made. 

“Thank you.” 

Erwin ended up walking you all the way to the glass doors of the building’s lobby. When you told him you started at the publishing company, he grinned as if he knew something you didn’t, saying that he knew exactly where that was. You didn’t question the glint of mischief in his eyes, only waving your goodbye when he continued up and around the block. 

The flurries of anxiety were back, though. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach as you squeezed the metal handle to open the deceptively heavy door. According to the email you received from HR a few days before, your office was on the twenty-second floor, so after nodding to the security guard to your left you got into the elevator and hit the button. You were to meet with the head of HR from 9am to 11am before doing a tour until noon when you’d break for lunch. The schedule had been perfectly outlined in the email and you were grateful for that, hoping that the day would go smoothly and that you wouldn’t encounter any awkward lulls before your day ended at five. 

When the doors slid open to your floor, you were greeted with an expansive reception area. The floor to ceiling windows should’ve made the area warm, but there was a kick of air conditioning that had you tightening your cardigan around your torso. The receptionist at the elongated wooden desk was young, early twenties probably as she spoke with a gentle tone with someone over the phone. 

You waved when you approached the desk, lying your palms against the glass top and nodding when she mouthed for you to give her a moment. 

“Sorry about that,” she apologized, shaking her head as she transferred the call. “The phones haven’t stopped this morning.” 

“That’s okay,” you smiled, taking in her blue eyes and blonde hair. You thought back to Erwin, and how nice it was of him to show you the way around the city. Very neighborly. Something you didn’t recall if you’ve ever experienced. 

“You must be our new publisher,” she gathered some papers from inside of a folder by her keyboard, holding them out for you to take. “I’m Historia. I can walk you over to Pixis’ office since he should be ready for you.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, walking through glass double doors to an open space with cubicles in the middle and offices lining the back wall. The large windows extended into this area too with the early morning rays warm against your cheek as you followed Historia to the office in the furthest left corner. She knocked on the door twice before letting herself in. Only to be greeted by a man standing behind his desk, monitors lifted to his eye level while sipping a hot drink from his mug. Coffee, you guessed, from the smell combing through his work space. 

His eyes lifted to the two of you in his doorway, eyebrows rising almost in question as he registered that you must’ve been the new hire. His face was stern, but his eyes were welcoming. They contradicted his features in a near alarming way, until his lips turned upwards in a small smile, thick mustache moving with them. 

“Dot Pixis,” he set down his mug as he sidestepped the length of his desk, “CFO and temporary head of Human Resources.” He held out his hand, yours grabbing his in a firm shake as you introduced yourself. 

“You’re early.” He glanced down at his watch to check the time. “That’s good.”

You smiled and laughed through your nose. “I had some help getting here, if not the train system would’ve been a challenge.”

“Happy to know the city isn’t stripped of its humanity,” Pixis said, motioning for you to sit in the chair in front of his desk. “Now if you’d like, we can get started.”

The following hours were filled with paperwork and videos and more paperwork. All of the required training, Pixis had scheduled one after the other which made for a not so entertaining morning. But when he showed you where your office was, you decided you couldn’t complain. It was in the opposite corner of his, nearly mimicking his exact layout except smaller. Cozier. The furniture was a deep cherry wood, the desk large but not imposing like it should’ve been. There was a small couch pressed into the wall in front of your desk, and beside that was a bookcase. Cherry wood as well, but worn, almost antique looking. And you were obsessed. You were content with the space, already envisioning a future in the office. One of long hours that consisted of early mornings and late evenings. Neither of which seemed like too much to complain about. Given the drastic change of pace your life has taken in less than a month. 

Next stop on your tour was the breakroom. It was nicely located in front of the cubicles in the middle of the office space, and much bigger than you would’ve imagined. There was a long table running down one side of the room with a bench pressed into the wall and chairs lining the other side. Pixis was attempting to show you the mechanics of the coffee machine, which seemed intricate enough with an espresso attachment as well as a milk frother. Not to mention the myriad of buttons that adorned the top. Suffice to say, he was struggling. 

“Boss, there’s no water in it,” said a voice from behind the two of you. He sounded amused and when you turned to look at him he was of average height and build with an overwhelmingly friendly face. He wore a small smile as his eyes flicked over to you and he set down his lunchbox. 

“I’m Moblit Berner,” he held out his hand to you, much like everyone else this morning. “I run the marketing department.”

Pixis allowed Moblit to take over the coffee machine tutorial with a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. Already grumbling something under his breath as the machine made a sputtering noise before coming to life with blinking lights. “The mugs are in the cupboard up here and we keep sugar packets right down here.” Moblit pointed to the cabinet above the machine as well as the drawer beneath it, opening both to show you the wide array of cups and sugar. And even a disturbing variety of creamer flavors. 

“If you have a preference on coffee or creamer flavor, just let us know and we can add it to our next order. Historia usually takes stock for us,” he added, stepping away from you and towards the microwave. Before you could introduce yourself there was a shrill ringtone that interrupted the small batch of silence, loud enough to pierce your eardrums but not seeming to phase Pixis whatsoever when he brought the cell to his ear and waved with two fingers to excuse himself from the kitchen. 

“How’s your first day going?” Moblit asked, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned on the counter behind him. 

“Not too bad. A little course heavy with all the videos required by HR, but,” you shrugged, letting the rest of your sentence drop off when the microwave signaled his food was ready. 

“Oh, those are the worst. How many you got left?”

“None, thankfully. I just completed the sexual harassment module,” you grimaced, remembering the cringey acting and off putting scenarios. 

“And just in time for lunch,” he smiled, hissing suddenly when he burnt his fingertip on the edge of his glass food container. “Did you bring anything?” 

Moblit looked you over, then swept his eyes over the countertops in search of a lunchbox. “I kinda forgot. I packed it last night and then left it on my counter in my rush to find the closest train stop.” 

“Well,” he started, rummaging through his own lunchbox to dig out what looked like three lunches for one day. “You’re in luck. I pack my lunch every night to avoid this, but my partner always finds a way to sneak in more food than I will ever need.” 

“That’s sweet, though,” you laughed, eyeing one of the wraps enclosed in saran wrap. 

“Hange is a big believer in keeping the people fed and drunk.” Moblit pulled out one of those tiny bottles of fireball from the bottom of his mini cooler. “I don’t know why and how they keep dropping this in here.” 

You grinned at his expression, confusion and distaste written plainly on his features as he dropped the bottle back into his bag. He gestured to the array of food on the counter, silently offering you any to choose from. 

“I’m fine, really,” you waved your hand to say no, not wanting to overstep any boundaries on your first day. He was being friendly, and you could tell his offer was coming from a place of sincerity, but you were still settling into this new life. You didn’t want to create relationships so quickly when you weren’t in a place to pull yourself together if they ended badly. 

“I insist,” he urged, pushing the food closer to you. “Because if you don’t it’s just going to end up going bad. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” 

There was a hint of playful maliciousness in his tone, his eyebrow arched and eyes expectant as he waited for what he knew to be a yes. Because you conceded easily, grabbing the wrap from the countertop holding it securely between both of your palms. “Happy?”

“Delighted.”

The routine that followed so easily after that alarmed you. You were introduced to everyone in the office the following day. And were even assigned your own intern. His name was Marco, a rather shy, college student who would often remain in his cubicle conversing with the marketing intern, Jean. You managed to decorate the majority of the bookshelf in your office as the days bled into the other. And you found remnants of what felt like home littering the desk. A globe in the center shelf, worn books your mom had mailed you after you requested them, and a crocheted granny square blanket thrown over the arm of the couch. 

Lunches with Moblit had also persisted. This time with you remembering your own or even wandering down to the cafe around the block from the office. Train rides with Erwin had also become a new normal. Most mornings he’d wait outside your gate, leaning against it usually on his phone as you always left your place just a few moments after he left his. You hadn’t met his partner, Levi, yet, though. One morning questioning if he even existed after so many days of just missing him.

“He can be quite elusive,” Erwin explained, “and not the best around new people.”

“So he’s avoiding me,” you teased, the insecure truth hidden somewhere beneath that statement and you just hoped Erwin wouldn’t catch it. Because if you were being a little bit honest, it stung not having met him yet. Especially when he lived a wall away and you ran into his other half so often. 

“No, he’s just busy,” Erwin tried, his lips downturning slightly, not disguising his uncertainty whatsoever. Though he tried. 

“Right,” you replied with a chuckle and an eye roll, stepping off the train and onto the bustling platform. Spring was pretty quickly disappearing into a sweltering summer. The days only grew hotter as the summer solstice drew nearer. You considered ordering an uber some days because the walk to and from the stop had you sweating by the time you stepped through the cool doors of your office lobby. 

“Listen,” Erwin defended, stepping around someone’s discarded breakfast in what you deemed as a very tragic start to their morning. “The life of a physical therapist can be very demanding.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you replied, shifting your bag to the opposite shoulder once you felt your shirt stick uncomfortably to your skin. “And I’m just joking with you, Erwin. I know he exists, I’ve seen the photos.”

He rolled his eyes, nudging you with his elbow when you reached a crosswalk and waited for it to signal that you two could keep walking. The Brewhouse was in your line of sight, which was a new favorite of yours. The barista managed to memorize your order, since you’ve been there nearly every day since starting your job. And since you always walked in with Erwin it helped because you were convinced she was into him. 

“She has the fattest crush on you, y’know,” you grinned against the straw of your drink, your gloss staining the plastic when you both continued your usual route to your workplace. 

“If that’s true, explain to me why my coffee is never free,” he said as he tipped his americano your way. 

“Because you always insist on paying,” you argued, “and you also tip handsomely, which is why she has the fattest crush on you.”

Two large pieces of furniture delivered on the same day at your doorstep was not an ideal situation. One being you couldn’t possibly bring them in alone. And two, you didn't have the tools to put together a sectional and a rather tall bookcase on your own either. You stood on the last of your steps, arms crossed over your chest as you stared down at three boxes all perched against your weak metal gate. Which has managed to increase your frustration because how could they deliver this here without you signing off on it? When you explicitly put that in the delivery instructions. Not that it matters much now. Now that you still have three heavy boxes and no way to get them inside. 

“Looks like you could use some help,” a gravelly voice said from just outside the gate beside yours. Short, dark-haired, and slim but lean. He was in a set of black scrubs and a small duffel bag propped on his shoulder. Levi, you determined. The Levi. Erwin’s Levi. 

“It sure does look like that.” 

“Let me put this down and I can give you a hand,” he said, reaching his door quicker than your mind could process and slipping his key into the lock.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you waved your hand at him and shook your head to decline, not wanting to inconvenience him since it seems like he just got off of work. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, one foot over his threshold and his eyes narrowed at you. “I’ll grab some tools we have stored somewhere around here and be right out.”

Before you could argue again, the wooden door slammed shut behind him and you stayed put on the front step. Oddly, you waited for him, not sure how long he would take, but not going back inside your home either. 

“Alright, let’s get this done,” he said, having quickly changed into gym shorts and a fitted t-shirt. He leaned over the gate that separated your properties, handing you a tool bag as he made his way down his stairs through his gate door and beside the boxes in front of your home in no time. He surveyed the dilemma you were having, hands on his hips and brows furrowed in concentration. 

“Where’s Erwin?” You stepped down the final step, walking closer to Levi and noticing that even when his brows weren’t furrowed there was still a wrinkle between them. 

“Monthly meet up with his dad,” he answered, reaching over to grab one of the baskets and tugging it towards him. “I think today they’re golfing.”

He grunted when the box stood upright, unlocking your gate and swinging it open. You took that as your cue to step in. The edges of the box were secure, but there was a dent in one side and a tear in the other. Large red stickers with the word ‘heavy’ printed on them were scattered across the surface. 

“That’s sweet,” you squeezed out between a wheezing breath when Levi let go of the box and you realized how much weight he had actually been holding. You propped some of it onto your chest, stabilizing your feet as you adjusted the weight to be more comfortable in your arms.

“Mmm,” was his only response and also the only noise of warning when he lifted the opposite end nearly knocking you back if you hadn't prepared yourself and steadied your knees. You staggered backwards to accommodate for the length of the box, meeting his gaze on the other end. 

“Ready?” He asked, not looking as winded as you were positive you looked, a sweat already developing on your temple. You walked backwards, eyes glancing over your shoulder and then down between your feet so you wouldn’t miss a step and then eat shit in front of your elusive and busy neighbor. 

The two of you managed to bring in the other two boxes and laid them out in various positions in your living room. You grabbed two water bottles from your fridge, your throat dry from the unexpected exertion. Levi caught your eye when you shut the door behind you with your hip, and you shook the bottle at him in offering. He held out his hand, which you assumed meant yes and you tossed it over to him. The rest of the afternoon followed in a similar fashion, wordless cues as you both built your sofa. He was so different from Erwin it was difficult to imagine them together. Where Erwin chatted and filled every empty space in conversation, Levi seemed to be most comfortable in those empty spaces. And interestingly, you found a gratefulness in that. No wondering questions or pressure to impress someone you were meeting for the first time. He was stoic in his approach, only prompting conversation when it was to ask for a tool or an additional set of hands. 

He was also quite the perfectionist, incessantly tightening screws and testing the integrity of the foundation. He claimed it was so he wasn’t “at fault for being the one to cause harm to Erwin’s train buddy.”

“No way does he call me his train buddy,” you snorted, slightly embarrassed by the nickname. “I refuse to believe that.”

“He’s a dork,” Levi supplied, one corner of his lips turning upwards as he glanced your way. “So, yes he does.”

You grimaced, which earned you a surprising chuckle. Or moreso, an amused breath through his nose. Another hour passed and you and Levi were struggling to lift the bookcase into the corner of your living room. Height a point of contention in your current issue. You stifled a laugh when both of you lost your grip again.

“Don’t laugh,” he huffed, obvious irritation in his voice.

“I’m not. It’s just,” you coughed behind another laugh, helping lay the bookcase back on the ground. “I’m delirious from hunger and we’re…having a hard time.”

“We still have to anchor this to the wall.”

“Mhmm,” you said, wiping your forehead with the edge of your shirt. You didn’t want to instigate him, his glower was frightening so you swallowed down your giggle when you made eye contact. 

“How do you not have a damn step ladder?” His eyes narrowed and the genuine frustration was enough to press your lips together around another amused noise bubbling up your throat.

“Do you have a step ladder?” And his lack of response was enough of an answer for you. Instead, his phone vibrated from his pocket before you could hear the snarky retort that was about to fall from his lips. His eyes scanned his phone screen, stuffing it back in his pocket when he was done.

There was a knock on the door soon after and before you made a move to answer it, Levi took three easy strides towards it revealing Erwin as the door swung open. 

“Well what do we have here?” He was still wearing his golf polo, tucked into a pair of well fitting khakis and a proud grin. One that you didn’t understand until you caught the eyebrow raise he sent Levi, and the head tilt you assumed was in reference to you. Levi grumbled something under his breath, something that you could determine was not nice, but didn’t cause that stupid grin to waver from Erwin’s face when he stepped into your home. 

He walked in like he’d been there a million times. He crossed into your kitchen, propped open your fridge and grabbed a water bottle while he was at it too. You stared with a mixture of shock, confusion, and amusement. While Levi glared in disgust, distaste, and disdain. This could be fun, watching the pair of them interact in an openly intimate and familiar way. Until it caused a sharp twist of something that resembled yearning tug through your chest. A flash of Onyankopon fluttered through your mind, an almost identical scene to this. You missed him. And you haven’t allowed yourself to do that in weeks. 

You missed him. And it burned. 

“Levi was nice enough to help me build my furniture. We’re almost done, actually,” you smiled, knowing it didn’t reach your eyes, but trying to disguise it nonetheless. 

“You need an extra set of hands?” Erwin asked, chugging down half the water bottle as you answered yes, while Levi gave a very stern no. You and Levi turned to each other at the same time and you were once again faced with his scrunched, irritated features. 

“We do,” you said towards Erwin, but answering the expression on Levi’s face. You were expecting him to argue it, expecting a back and forth until one of you conceded and you were feeling stubborn at the moment. But he didn’t. He turned away from the two of you silently with tension in his shoulders while Erwin laughed under his breath at his partner’s theatrics. 

The moment they left, the silence that wrapped around your home was astonishing. You convinced yourself you had become accustomed to the quiet. To just your noises like the shuffling of your socked feet on the rug or the drip of coffee that remained steady for most of the morning. But your noises, and yours alone, started to become frighteningly lonely. You spent hours surrounded by laughter, bickering, and sarcasm. You slipped into a familiar version of yourself that you nearly forgot about. The person before the engagement. The person you sure as hell hadn’t seen since you broke said engagement off. 

The ache you pushed aside into a single chamber of your heart began to bloom. Painful and digging deeply into the veins that surrounded it. You needed a distraction. One that would fill the empty space that was beginning to be intrusive. Suffocating. But you weren’t sure exactly how.