#trying on regular ass just like Clothes For Wearing and being forced to remember what shape i am

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

The great regular sleep experiment of 2024 part "REM"

Again I get into bed by 10 or 10:10 ish and an undoubtedly asleep by 10:30... again I sleep, wake briefly, sleep again and wake to find it is 1:44 or 1:45...

Again I lay in bed 2 extra hours trying to sleep before giving up to go pee and feed my cat, alert as can be. Tired, but so so alert.

Again I have had dreams of being back in circumstances involving ex's ex friends and old roommates... This time I am trying to tell someone, "No really, the skinny corset style top isn't mine, it is too small, my rib-cage alone would break it and I don't wear girly things with pink print all over them, it has to be Fine's. IDC if it's black or if you think it would 'suit me'..."

And why? Because men in my life, friends or otherwise were always doing that. They'd find a "girl clothes" in their/the house that's about 2-5X girlier than my gay ass would ever wear, and insist on repeat that it "MUST" be mine, that I am just not remembering and getting defensive, sometimes accompanied with comments of thinking it would look good on me or wanting to see me in it... Always until some other "woman" [because they would not acknowledge my masculinity, other women are women, i'm just a gay] would come forward and be like "Yeah, no I left that here."

And always always always it was someone who should have known me better than that. Someone who could have only missed what I generally wore if they hadn't bothered really looking at me for years at a time in close proximity. And often either my partner, or someone who seriously had no business picturing me in ANY clothes/outfits [like being 20 years older than me]. Very often they would have me confused with another 'girl' with dark hair, even when they are dating me. There is an insult inherent to this.

And now I have to fuckign DREAM that? Bullshit.

Who did I piss off?

But I guess my point is, it's becoming clear that I have been sleeping like this all along, but usually strung together on one end of the day instead of spaced out, so I couldn't really tell that when I am sleeping 8 hours I might only actually be getting half that many REM cycles.

Because either:

-I am having REM cycles faster than most people which means I am getting two in 3 ish hours of sleep, which explains waking in the middle and having dreams on both sides of that [8 hour equivalent in terms of raw REM cycles]

-I am only having one rem cycle per sleep, interrupted, which means currently having 2 per day [4 hour sleep equivalent to most people]

And if you have recommendations for affordable home equipment to measure that I am all ears, because I wouldn't survive going to a sleep clinic.

Every trick I have ever used to combat insomnia is failing me. Self hypnosis, meditations, other things you do before bed that knock people out cold sometimes... Any medication that's made me sleepy before, all of it, none of it.

And I just get to wake up vaguely annoyed I am wasting my precious vivid dreaming time talking to people I removed from my personal space for a reason, and other generic dream actors.

And the night sleep, well that's the one that butts up against the nope-time, 5-10 am... but the day sleep, I have tried to encourage the day sleep to extend itself with no luck either.

If I stopped sleeping at night, I might get the two sleeps crammed back together, but then it's exactly what I don't want, sleeping all day, and also -by virtue of it being regularly scheduled sleep- I won't be sleeping any longer than I am now.

I always liked a half day schedule. I liked it in theory and in the moments I could hold onto it in practice. It solves a LOT of my problems including waking up halfway through the night and not being able to sleep again, and it being too hard to force myself awake all the way till my next sleep time, that's only half a day away at most now.

I just... I need more than 8 hours of sleep, and I am getting 6 on a good day.

And that brings me to the next point... I am pretty sure the conflict is this:

-I have a delayed sleep phase disorder that sometimes looks like a non-24 hour sleep disorder because of how it keeps pushing my bedtime back when I sleep at night [I am a 'night person']

-I am a "super sleeper" in that I have the genes to have shorter sleep cycles or for my body to think it needs one fewer to be alert

-I also have chronic fatigue and require extra rest/sleep regardless, maybe specifically sleep to help with healing and converting adenosine, and this is incompatible with also having the genes of a "super sleeper"

-I am one of those people hardwired to "two sleeps" as was once more fashionable, and this doesn't stack well with everything else or with the societal expectation that I should sleep 8 hours in one block and only at night.

-My most natural time to fall asleep is right after sunrise and that is the ONE time it is most safe for me to run errands now, due to 'infectious dose' [or the dose of virus I -personally- react to, short of infection] vs 'viral load' [virus levels that build up in the air in buildings through the day] and the fucking perpetual plague, so it is the one time I need to be habituated to being alert enough to go out. First thing at opening, after walking there.

In a world without the plague I could probably sleep from midnight to whenever and only have to deal with SOME of the... Byproducts~ of a regular sleep schedule, a lot of people don't expect you to be an early morning person when you are disabled.

Anyway I am just going to start biting people now. [In dreams? who can say! It worked on the sleep paralysis demons didn't it?]

Love that I decided to do this to myself just to make SUPER SURE that regular sleep wouldn't solve my problems...

At least I am not hallucinating or having night terrors, sleep paralysis etc.

[lukestarkillerisgay]

despite numerous requests to the contrary , my moms gift for my bday this year was clothes :) that she bought the day before , and had me try on right then! so ! never felt uglier in my life :) resisting the urge to compulsively measure myself again :)

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

All Dressed Up (And Nowhere To Go)

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier Warning(s): just your regular smut  Rating: explicit

Summary:  Things haven't been perfect since Geralt and Jaskier reunited after the mountain, but Jaskier suspects he knows why and he's determined to fix it.

on ao3

the italics didn’t transfer properly to tumblr (🙄) so for best reading experience, follow the ao3 link <3

Six months. Six months since that memorable day when Geralt showed up in his audience. Six months since his apology. Six months since Jaskier had pulled him aside and forced him to talk things through. Six months since their reconciliation.

Six months and more tension crammed into that time than any man deserves in his life. And things are good between them, very good. Maybe the best they've been since the incident in Cintra now that everything is out in the open and steps are being taken to consider each other more carefully. So Jaskier can't figure out what the problem is between them, but he'll be damned if he's not going to solve it.

He's tried talking about Ciri, but that seems to be going quite well and he's even brought up Yen, but she and Geralt are working on things for Ciri's sake. Their personal relationship seems to have been set aside, but Geralt is okay with that.

The only remaining things are Geralt's family and him and since winter was some time ago now he doubts it’s the other Witchers. So. It must be him. But Geralt has been different since their reunion, softer and more forgiving than before, so he doubts Geralt is upset with him. Which only leaves one option. One that makes his heart beat quicker and his mouth go dry. One that feels altogether like he should be imagining it, but what if he's not? He has to try.

So, Jaskier keeps an ear out for new contracts until he finds one he knows Geralt won't pass up. He goes to town ahead of him and waits until, as expected, Geralt shows up a couple of days later. Jaskier keeps an eye on him but stays out of the way until Geralt heads out for the hunt, then he puts his plan into action.

- - - - -

Geralt's exhausted. The graveir had proved to be tougher than expected and his right shoulder aches from a bad swing. He wishes he hadn't turned down Jaskier's offer to accompany him to Novigrad because he might still be with him now and Geralt sorely misses him. But things are good - or they will be, they're working through it and he doesn't want to push too hard too early.

But Melitele, what he wouldn't do for one of Jaskier's massages right now. Or just to have him fuss over him in the bath like he used to. Or, fuck. Even just to listen to him sing while he bathes and stretches out the aches and pains. They'll see each other soon enough, probably, but every time they part, there's a small part of him that wonders if this will be the time Jaskier doesn't return. He couldn't blame him for it, after the things he said before, but he'd still be devastated to lose him like that again. And despite being much better, things haven't been perfect since their reunion.

There's a block of some sort that they can't seem to pass - or maybe it's just his imagination, but it's so persistent he can practically feel it in the room with them. They have talked at length about their problems in the past, Geralt has apologized as well as he can and Jaskier had accepted that with the condition that Geralt continues to try. And he will, as Jaskier promised to do as well; they'll keep working at it until it's good again, maybe even better. But something is still in the way.

Geralt sighs as he heaves himself up the stairs, already eyeing the door of his room. He could use a damn good nap, but thinking about Jaskier has him feeling otherwise. He crosses the landing, shoving a hand against the door and leaning on it more than pushing it open, but as soon as he's inside, he stops dead in his tracks. The door bumps his hip on its way shut and he barely shifts to let it fall closed behind him.

In his bed, wearing nothing but a feathered hat and ankle-length jacket is Jaskier.

Geralt's eyes dart from his bare chest up to his face before sliding lower again and he struggles to take it all in at once. Jaskier's hair was longer when they first reunited, but he's got dark stubble covering his jawline and that hat does something to him that it really shouldn't.

Before he even realizes he's moving, Geralt's shucked his swords and he's halfway across the room. He bends down, hauling Jaskier into his arms and barely sees the flash of a smile before Jaskier's kissing him, soft and deep with both hands on his face. Geralt shifts as surprisingly strong thighs wind around his waist and he adjusts his arms to hold Jaskier tighter, reaching up to brush a hand through his hair.

Jaskier shifts in his arms and the jacket slides against his skin, smooth and silky on the inside and he hums against Jaskier's lips. This… feels right. This feels like coming home and he can't even find the words to express himself, to tell Jaskier the magnitude of his emotions. He deepens the kiss, slipping his hands to Jaskier's thighs to hold him as Jaskier shifts.

He breaks the kiss but his mouth only briefly leaves Geralt's skin, slipping down to his jaw and what little of his neck is exposed while his fingers seek out the clasps of Geralt's armour. He's gotten him out of it more times than Geralt knows, either because he's been too weak or injured to do it himself or just because he liked the help. A pang of guilt distracts him for a moment, a reminder of how he once took him for granted, but Jaskier's mouth finds his own again and he forgets about it.

It doesn't take Jaskier long to undress him and Geralt has to kick the pieces out of the way to keep from tripping on them. He huffs a soft laugh as Jaskier's fingers immediately drop to his waistband, unbuttoning his trousers and tugging his shirt free. He gets his hands on his bare skin and hums as he slides up his chest, fingers tangling in his chest hair before returning to his task of getting Geralt out of his clothes.

Geralt drops him down on the bed, reaching to push down his trousers, but Jaskier stops him. He's got his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, looking up at him with dark eyes and Geralt couldn't deny him anything in the world. When Jaskier softly asks let me? Geralt drops his hands to his sides.

Jaskier's hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him down again and Geralt doesn't protest, shifting to kneel over him. Jaskier draws him into another kiss before even touching his trousers, hands sliding up and down his sides.

When he finally slips his hands down, sliding Geralt's trousers over the swell of his ass, he draws him into another kiss, nipping at his lips. Geralt shuffles to kick his boots off and Jaskier is pulling him back against him before Geralt's trousers are even off of him. He huffs a laugh, but Jaskier seems unconcerned, happy enough to kiss him and tangle his fingers in his hair.

But Geralt has been waiting for this opportunity for longer than he can truly remember. Jaskier's chest is covered in a thick thatch of hair and Geralt has spent far too many summer afternoons longing to run his fingers through that hair. He presses his nose into it now, inhaling Jaskier's scent and humming against him. He licks his nipples, wrapping his lips around each of them and delighting in the soft little moans he gets in response. Jaskier is incredibly responsive, more so than anyone he's been with, and his skin prickles with every little moan and whine out of him. It only makes him more eager to please, to hear more of those sounds.

He slips lower, dragging his lips down toward Jaskier's navel. He presses his palm to his thigh, his thumb just sliding against the crease of his hip and Jaskier rises into the touch. He's got his head thrown back, lip between his teeth again, and Geralt is feeling like he's burning apart seeing him like this and he hasn't even touched his cock.

Part of him is afraid to, afraid that if he gets what he really wants, that this will prove to be a dream and Jaskier will be gone again. So he nips and sucks at his hips, fingers slipping closer and closer but never touching his cock, even when Jaskier whines and pushes against him. But Geralt can only hold out for so long and his own cock is aching beneath him, desperate for any relief, but he doesn't even dare press against the mattress lest this be over before it starts.

He lifts his head, watching the way Jaskier squirms, hat tipped forward over his forehead as Geralt's fingers press into his skin. He's stunning, truly beautiful like this and he wonders if all the others who have shared his bed have taken the time to appreciate him the way he deserves. Unlikely, he thinks sadly. With a soft hum, Geralt noses at his stomach, following the thin trail of hair down to where his cock sits against his hip.

He brushes his lips against him and Jaskier whines, shudders beneath him but doesn't push even a little. He lays still, chest rising quickly with each anticipating breath, and when Geralt's mouth finally slides up to the head of his cock, wrapping loosely around him, Jaskier curls in on himself.

He lets out a low whine before extending himself again and Geralt sinks lower, sealing his lips around him. He licks the pre-come from the head of his cock and sucks at it. It's been ages since he's had another cock in his mouth, but he lets Jaskier's sounds and movements guide him. He hums around him, working him over thoroughly before pulling up to look at him again.

Jaskier's got the hat pulled all the way down over his face, holding it there as he groans and bucks beneath Geralt's ministrations. Geralt pushes a hand up his chest and Jaskier groans, reaching for him and curling his fingers around his. It stirs something in Geralt's chest and he pulls off of Jaskier's cock, kissing his way up his chest before tipping the hat up and finding his mouth again.

Jaskier's free hand slips into his hair and he kisses back furiously, moaning softly between his lips. Jaskier quickly overpowers him, rolling him onto his back and sliding a hand down his stomach. He teases the head of Geralt's cock with his fingertips before breaking the kiss and pulling away.

"Mm, I wasn't finished with you," Geralt mumbles but Jaskier just huffs a laugh and leans back in for one quick kiss before shifting down the bed.

He pushes Geralt's trousers all the way down and tugs off his boots, leaving them in a pile at the end of the bed before sliding his hands up his thighs and smiling down at him. He readjusts the hat on his head and moves to take it off, but Geralt reaches up before he can think, wrapping his fingers around Jaskier's wrist.

"Leave it on?"

"Anything you want, darling."

Jaskier's eyes flash dark and he dips down, mouthing at the centre of Geralt's chest. He lets his teeth graze his skin and Geralt sighs, shifting so he can wrap a hand around the back of Jaskier's neck. He slips his fingers through the loose locks of hair, wrapping it around his fingers as Jaskier nips and sucks at his chest, hands firmly pressed against his sides. Like this, with Jaskier's hair brushing his shoulders, Geralt thinks he knows why Jaskier liked washing his hair so much. He likes the feel of it through his fingers, likes the thought of doing something for Jaskier not because Jaskier needs it, but because Geralt can offer.

"After," he hums, tugging a little unintentionally as Jaskier's mouth wraps around his nipple, "could I wash your hair for you?"

"Geralt, my sweet, I would be delighted. But let me take care of you for a little while, hm?" He flicks his tongue against his nipple again before moving lower and Geralt shuts his eyes.

He pushes his fingers further into Jaskier's hair, dislodging the hat a little, but wants as much of him as possible, wants to hold him as close as he can for as long as he can. Six months seems like an eternity walking on eggshells around each other, but he's wanted this for so much longer than six months. Wanted Jaskier from that first moment in Posada where he strolled right up and made himself at home. From when Geralt told him in no uncertain terms that they were separating now and Jaskier told him no.

Jaskier's mouth around his cock draws him from his thoughts and Geralt bucks against him, arching off the bed. He thrusts shallowly into the wet heat, lips parted and head thrown back as he groans softly. Jaskier's hand settles on his hips to steady him, but it doesn't keep his hips from twitching, jerking up into his mouth. He's careful not to push too hard, but he wants this, wants it more than he should.

"Jask-" he pants, "Jaskier please."

Jaskier sinks down on him again, slipping a hand down to cup Geralt's balls. He rolls them between his fingers as he sucks him down, bobbing slowly in his lap. Geralt's thighs spread further and he mumbles a shuddered fuck as Jaskier's hand squeezes around him. Jaskier's mouth rises, tongue pressing against the underside of his cock as he slips to the head and sucks hard before pulling off.

"What would you like, love?" His free hand comes to stroke Geralt's cock in place of his mouth and it feels good. He loves having Jaskier's hands on him this way, but it's not enough, not right now.

"Fuck me?" he whispers, "gods, I want you- please." The hand on his cock twists right below the head and Geralt groans.

"Do you want that?" Jaskier asks, slipping his other hand lower. Geralt spreads his legs as Jaskier's fingers tease the crease of his ass.

"Wanna hold you," he hums, "wanna feel you."

"Yeah," Jaskier whispers, "I want that, too. Do you have slick, love?"

"Mm, yeah, in my bag."

"Fuck. Get it out," he mumbles, then before Geralt can move, Jaskier's mouth is around his cock again, taking him all the way down.

Geralt shudders, but Jaskier flicks his eyes up at him, giving him an encouraging look and he reaches over the edge of the bed. He fumbles with his pack, unable to look away from Jaskier, the way his lips are stretched wide around him, but he locates the bottle and plucks it from the bag. He clenches around it as Jaskier's teeth graze against him and he shoves the bottle at him urgently.

Jaskier gives a little laugh, the reverberations of which make Geralt squirm, then he's pulling off and taking the bottle from him. He doesn't waste any time slicking up his fingers and pressing between Geralt's cheeks. He hums as he presses over his hole and Geralt's hips jerk.

"Why don't you roll over? It'll be easier."

Geralt shifts obediently, rolling onto his stomach and he moans as Jaskier tugs him down the bed, making his cock rub against the rough sheets. But Jaskier is quick to get back to work, getting his hands on him and spreading his cheeks. He shifts up closer, bending to kiss the base of Geralt's spine as he runs a slick finger between his cheeks.

Geralt shudders when he doesn't pause, squirming to get that touch back. But Jaskier doesn't leave him wanting for long. He runs two fingers along next time, pressing into him with one and then, when Geralt opens beneath him, he rubs the second finger around his rim.

He's enjoying this, Geralt realizes, he likes playing with him like this just touching aimlessly. And Jaskier doesn't stop. Once Geralt is loose enough, he adds a second finger and thrusts into him. He pushes in deep and Geralt rocks back onto him; he loves the stretch, but he wants more, wants it deeper.

"Shh, you'll get it," Jaskier breathes and Geralt realizes he's been speaking his desires out loud. "I love that you're so needy, Geralt, gods. Tell me what you want, darling."

"Want your cock," he groans, quick enough that he surprises himself. "Want you inside me, fuck- more Jask, please." Jaskier pulls out a little before thrusting in with three fingers and Geralt arches into the bed, pushing onto his knees. "Want your cock," he mumbles, "you won't hurt me."

"Geralt," he starts gently, but Geralt shifts as soon as Jaskier has pulled out, turning onto his back again and tugging Jaskier down by his jacket.

"Jask I have spent every night this week with a wooden toy up my ass imagining you fucking me instead. I'm ready, you won't hurt me."

"Oh," Jaskier gawks, "fuck Geralt that's…" his eyes are wide, dark and Geralt just grins at his shock.

"I only wanted you." He nuzzles against his cheek, delighting in the rough scratch of stubble and moves down, nipping at his jaw and neck. "And since... " he doesn't want to say it out loud, doesn't want to ruin the moment, "fuck, this beard Jask. Been driving me insane."

"You like it?" he asks and when Geralt looks up, Jaskier is resettling himself between his thighs, taking himself in hand.

"Very much."

Jaskier's cock nudges against him and Geralt bites his lip, groaning as he pushes inside him. He kisses up his stomach, nuzzling against the side of Geralt's neck and thrusts deep, sinking all the way into him. Geralt's eyes flutter shut and he tips his head to give Jaskier more space, better access to his skin. He nuzzles in close and Geralt has to reach up to keep the hat from falling off. Jaskier just huffs a laugh and pulls up to kiss him properly.

"Like the hat too, hm?" he asks, breathing softly against his lip.

"Mm, looks very good on you." Geralt wraps his arms around Jaskier's waist, arms slipping under the fabric of his jacket once more to hold him against him.

Jaskier kisses him again and Geralt loses himself in the press of his lips and the shift of his hips. Jaskier rocks slowly into him, but he hits his prostate every time and Geralt is helpless to do much but hold him closer and moan against his lips.

They fit together easily, chest to chest, and when Jaskier rolls him onto his side and the hat tumbles to the floor, Geralt is too wrapped up in him to even notice. He slips a hand up into Jaskier's hair and rocks against him, rutting against his stomach. He's so close already, too worked up to last long, but now that the rush is over, now that he's got Jaskier in his arms, his orgasm is secondary.

Jaskier lifts Geralt's leg, hooking it over his hip and the slight change in position has Geralt moaning, sparks shooting up his spine as Jaskier rocks into him.

"'M close," he mumbles and Jaskier nuzzles against him.

"Gods, me too. Come for me, love, come on."

He does, almost as soon as he's told. Jaskier pushes deep, grinding into him and it pushes Geralt over the edge. He whines as he comes, clinging to Jaskier and rocking his cock into his hip. He's still riding through it when Jaskier comes a moment later, arm hooked under Geralt's thigh and bringing him closer.

They rest for a moment, tangled up like that, before Geralt pulls back far enough to kiss him again, Jaskier huffs a laugh but lets himself be drawn in, deepening the kiss and tangling his fingers in Geralt's hair.

"Should clean up," he hums, "I remember someone wanting to have a bath? Hm?"

"Not yet," Geralt mumbles, "just grab a shirt, for now, bath later."

Jaskier reaches over the edge of the bed to pull one of Geralt's shirts from his pack and Geralt immediately uses it to wipe the mess away, cleaning them enough that they won't make a mess of the bed. He flops onto his back, tossing the shirt to the end of the bed, and Jaskier crawls up over him. He leans over his chest, smiling down at him and pushing his fingers lightly through Geralt's chest hair.

"This was… good," he says as if expecting confirmation.

"It was," Geralt agrees, though he can't help but be a little suspicious at the way Jaskier looks at him. "But-?"

"No but," he whispers, "just… good." He leans down and as soon as their lips meet, Geralt hauls him on top of him, arms sliding beneath the jacket to wind loosely around Jaskier's waist.

"Things have been difficult lately," he says and he can see in Jaskier's eyes that he knew this was coming. "I'm afraid I might have added to that."

"How?"

"I- I'm not oblivious to my own feelings, Jaskier. I know they say Witchers are cold and heartless, but that's not- I'm not."

"I would never suggest such a thing."

"I know, but I withheld certain things from you. I never told you how I truly felt-"

"I think we're past that," Jaskier grins.

"But maybe if I'd said something before, we-" he sighs, frustrated and Jaskier reaches down to brush a stray hair from his face.

"We what, love?"

"I learned a lot of things being with Ciri and Yen. Before I didn't know how to… how to cope with what I felt for you and it came out… wrong-"

"Shh," Jaskier whispers, "I know, Geralt. We talked about this, it's not perfect yet, but we'll get there."

"Jaskier," Geralt whispers and when Jaskier looks down at him, soft and loving, Geralt almost chokes on his words. "I want to be good for you."

"Geralt you are. You're trying, my darling and that's all I can ask for."

"Hmm."

"Don't you hmm at me mister, I know you know how to use your words now."

Geralt laughs softly and tugs him down into another kiss, humming softly against his lips. "Okay," he whispers, "we keep working on it."

"Exactly," Jaskier grins, "although, I believe working hours are over so-" he sweeps an arm down and recovers his hat, winking at Geralt as he sets it back on his head and slides down the bed.

[shyficwriter]

Sick

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu & Kraglin)

Summary: You are quite sick, and unfortunately for everyone else, you won't stay in bed. Might have something to do with being delirious with fever, or maybe you're just a terrible patient. Who's to say?

Authors note: Content warning for hallucinated gore (I think? maybe horror is a better description? Let me know), and mentions of blood, and of course mentions of all the nastiness that comes with a stomach sickness (Don't worry, I kept it clean, didn't want to gross myself out lol) The characters are safe, story has a happy ending.

Word Count: 7,120

Damn, you felt like shit.

It was the first morning in forever where you could remember not actually wanting to get out of bed. Everything was sore, and damn it was just so cold. Why was it cold? Peter usually kept the ship decently warm?

You sighed and rolled out of bed, pausing momentarily when the room began to spin and your stomach tightened in nausea. Damn. That mission the other day must have taken more out of you than you thought. You didn't think you'd still be this sore and tired two days later. This was worse than yesterday, and you weren't exactly expecting the nausea, but at least it had passed.

Oh well. Nothing you can really do about it. Besides, you had more pressing matters, like figuring out why it was so damn cold. You were shaking and had to fight your teeth from chattering. Better put on a sweater.

After washing up and getting ready you headed out of your room to ask Peter why it was so cold, maybe check on the boiler yourself if he hadn't. You found him with Gamora and Kraglin on the flight deck discussing the best course to Berhert, where you guys were planning to dock for a few days and maybe chase down a few leads for new jobs.

"Why is it so freaking cold in here?" you ask. "Did the boiler break down or something?"

They turned to look at you and it was then you realized they were in their regular clothes, not even wearing jackets to keep them warm. Peter was even wearing short sleeves. "I feel fine?" he said, looking to Gamora. "Are you cold?"

She shook her head, adding that if anything, she thought Peter kept it a little too warm on the ship.

You raised an eyebrow, wondering how they could possibly be warm when you were freezing. You shook your head gently. "Guess it's just me then," you grumble.

"You ok? Ya look a little pale there?" Kraglin asked after noticing you were at least a shade or two lighter than normal and how the skin around your eyes wasn't normally that dark.

"I'm fine, Kraglin," you say, trying not to sound like too much of an asshole despite being cranky that you were so cold and achy.

Peter looked at you suspiciously a moment before saying, "Hey, come here a sec."

"Why?" you ask, just as suspiciously.

"Just come here."

You roll your eyes as you approach. "Fine." Once you stopped a few feet from him you asked, "What?"

He raised his hand out toward your forehead, and in your surprise you leaned away quick, instantly regretting it as the room began to spin again.

You gathered yourself somewhat quickly and noticed his hand coming back. You smacked it away. "What are you doing??" you asked through squinty eyes.

"I'm trying to feel your temperature, dummy. Quit moving!" he responded, irritated when you dodged him once again.

"What am I? A child? I don't need you to feel my temperature, mom." you sassed, taking a few steps backward out of the way. "I'm fine." you say irritably.

"Well you like shit."

You almost laughed in surprise at his bluntness as you leaned back with a mildly offended expression. "Well fuck you too, dickweed. You aren't exactly a looker yourself." You didn't really think he was ugly, you were just being mean, but it made Kraglin laugh anyway.

Peter shot him a look before turning back to you and saying, "I didn't mean it like that. I just think you should probably go back to bed if you aren't feeling well."

"First off, I have shit to do, I'm not going back to bed. Secondly, I never said I wasn't feeling well, I just said I was cold," you say bitterly, hugging your arms close to your chest as another chill hit you.

"Then why are you sweating?" Peter asked.

You looked at him a moment, confused, before bringing your own hand up to your forehead. Sure enough, you were starting to sweat a little around your hairline. You wiped your hand on your sweater as you gave him a bitter look before turning and walking away.

"Go back to bed!" Peter called after you.

You flipped him the bird, not turning around as you continued out of the room. "You don't tell me what to do. You ain't my mother."

Peter narrowed his eyes as you walked away. "Yeah... well... Good!"

Gamora rolled her eyes at both yours and Peter's immaturity and returned the conversation to the navigation.

***

You made you way down to the kitchen, thinking maybe you'd make some toast. Your stomach felt a bit crampy now, and you thought toast might be light enough to soothe it before you got started on your chores. Maybe some milk. Milk was nice and gentle, right?

Rocket and Groot were already in the kitchen eating some cereal when you got there. You nodded toward them in greeting as you put down some bread in the toaster. You pulled down a glass and went to open the fridge to pour yourself some milk while you waited when Rocket spoke up.

"Oh hey, we're out of milk, if that's what you're after."

You sighed. "Juice will have to do then," you say, grabbing the bottle and pouring yourself a glass of the light green liquid. You leaned against the counter and sipped at it as Rocket made conversation.

"You said you're going to blow out the dryer line today, right?"

"Yeah."

"About how long are you gonna be? I need to wash a load and I was hoping to get it started before I got to work fixing Groot's game-thing so it might be done by the time I finished."

"Shouldn't be too long. Should only take abo-"

Just then the toaster popped, making you jump a mile, and Rocket and Groot laugh at your reaction.

"Oh man, I don't get why you Terrans are so scared of that! Haha!"

You only glare at him before removing your toast and turning your attention to buttering it rather than engage about how you were definitely not scared of a toaster like you would have any other time. You just didn't feel like it today.

"I am Groot?"

"Yeah, you ok? Normally you yell back when I tease you about the toaster. You sick or something?"

You were finished buttering your toast so you turned to give him an unimpressed look. "What? If I don't yell at you, you think I must be sick?"

Rocket shrugged, "I mean, yeah?" He collected his and Groot's now empty bowls and hopped over to put them in the sink. "You've always yelled something back, what else I'm I supposed to think?" He turned back towards you and looked you over. "And are you supposed to look that... dead?"

You narrowed your eyes. "You supposed to be that bald?"

"What? I'm literally covered in fur." Rocket said, looking at you like he thought you were stupid.

"You won't be if I shave you, you little shit."

"I am Groot."

"I'm not sure if cranky's the word I'd use right now, buddy." Rocket said, throwing you a sideways glance. "Come on, let's go see if Drax wants to play cards or something." With that the pair left the room, leaving you alone to nibble at your toast and sip at your juice in peace.

It didn't exactly help the cramping in your stomach though, you realized as you placed your glass in the sink. You took a deep breath as another chill hit you and you rested over the sink a bit to get your bearings, taking a few more deep breaths hoping it would ease the cramping in your stomach.

Once you felt steady enough you left the kitchen, intent to get started on today's tasks, first being the dryer line, then changing the various air filters about the ship. You'd probably also get around to checking all the smoke detectors before lunch, but for now you just needed to get down to the laundry room to get started.

God, it was so cold.

You made your way down the hall from the kitchen and turned off towards the laundry room when you were startled by Yondu. He had been coming up the other hallway in the direction you were now headed and decided to greet you with a clap on the back and a loud, "Hey, squirt! What'cha doing?"

He always called you squirt, pipsqueak, munchkin, just because he knew it annoyed you to be called childish nicknames. To be fair, he did still call Peter, a fully grown man, 'boy,' as well as also sometimes calling him 'squirt,' and Gamora 'girl,' so at least you knew it wasn't personal.

The startle, as well as the impact of his hand meeting your shoulder sent you forward. You grabbed hold of the wall and tried to steady yourself as the hall spun around you.

"Whoa, ya alright there?" Yondu asked, not expecting to have thrown you so off balance.

You look up at him weakly and nod, breathing deeply through your nose as you held a hand to your stomach, still bent over slightly from where you had caught yourself. You thought you were going to be sick, but you were doing your damnedest to keep it together. "Yeah." you swallowed, trying to fight the slight tremors beginning to shake you. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Ya don't look it. I think you need to take your ass back to bed."

You glare at him. "I'm fine. I just need a sec." As if your body were trying to betray you, another chill shot through your spine, making you shake as a strong cramp made you fold into yourself with a, "Ow, fuck!"

Shit. You knew what was coming and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You quickly turned away from Yondu and vomited on the floor with such force that it felt like something had ripped your stomach open and you fought not to whimper at the pain. You heard him make a disgusted noise, and you didn't blame him.

Teeth chattering and dizzy, you looked at the mess and said, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I'll clean that up." Your vision swam as you shook, one hand gripping at the wall, the other still wrapped about your middle.

Before Yondu could think to respond you had dropped to your knees, thankfully missing the puddle of sick on the floor, and vomited again.

You couldn't stop shaking, and resigned into leaning into the wall, eyes closed as you turned your forehead to rest against the cold metal. Your breath came in shudders as you heard Yondu cry out, "Shit! Quill!" He sounded urgent, but you didn't have time to think about that, you were too busy shaking and trying not to vomit again.

You thought you heard Rocket's voice from up the hall say, "See! I knew you were sick!" and you briefly opened your eyes to look up and make out the little blurry figure approaching before closing them again, weakly throwing him the bird as you focused on keeping it together, both arms now clutching your stomach as you grimaced in pain. It would be over soon. You just needed to gather yourself so you could clean up the mess you made and then you could get on with your day. God your stomach hurt...

You heard Yondu call out for Peter a second time, more urgently than the first and adding, "Kraglin! Somebody! Get down here!" when you lost your battle against your stomach and vomited for a third time. This time Rocket's cries for Peter joined him. You wondered why they were freaking out and calling for Peter when you felt Yondu grab your shoulders to stop you from falling forwards, causing your eyes to pop open allowing you to see your puddle of sick was now red, though you couldn't remember eating anything red... Was the juice you drank red? No, it was green... "Well that's not ideal..." you slurred out, realizing that it probably definitely shouldn't be red, but couldn't quite get a grasp on exactly why you knew it shouldn't be.

The last thing you heard was the sounds of boots thundering down the hallway, getting closer as they mingled with the noises of Yondu and Rocket's shouting before everything went dark.

***

You woke up in your bed laying on top of your sheets. You still didn't feel great, your stomach still felt crampy and also now burned a bit, but it was better than the sharp pain of before and at least you didn't really feel nauseous anymore.

It was still really cold though. You sat up and your head swam. You looked down to see you were still in your sweater and contemplated putting another one on before deciding against it. You were going to be up moving around doing your chores in a second, you'd likely warm up then.

You gingerly pulled yourself out of bed, thinking you might go get some water first, when you looked over at your nightstand for the time and found that someone had already left you a glass. How kind. You sipped at the water and silently grumbled when you realized you had been asleep for nearly two hours.

Wait... why were you in bed again? You sort of remembered getting sick. Peter probably made you lay down a bit. He was a mother hen like that.

No matter, you were up now. Time to get to work.

You left your room and had made it about 20 feet before Gamora spotted you and ordered you back to bed. You made out her two stern faces staring at you... wait two? You thought she only had one of those?

"Why?" you ask, wondering if Peter's mother-hening had rubbed off on her. Way you saw it, you only threw up, it wasn't the end of the world.

"Because you're sick, that's why!" Gamora replied, sounding exasperated.

"I'm fine." you assured, making a face a her. "You worry too much, chicken. The sky's still there." Hmm... you might have gotten that phrase wrong, or did you? You couldn't quite remember. Oh well.

"Bed. Now." she ordered. You blinked and suddenly she once again only had one face. One very cross looking face. Oh well. You still knew better than to argue with her, regardless of how many faces she chose to wear today, so begrudgingly you turned around and went back to your room with a dramatic sigh.

When enough time passed that you were certain she'd be gone, you attempted your escape again. This time you got about halfway to the laundry when you spotted little Groot in the hallway. He looked at you contemplatively and said, "I am Groot?" which you took to mean he was probably asking if you were supposed to be up and out of bed. Leave it to Peter to tell the whole damn ship.

You gave the little guy your best smile and made a shushing gesture with your finger to your lips. "Our secret, right buddy?"

He smiled and ran off.

Taking that as an agreement to silence you went on your way only to not make it much further before hearing someone tell you to "Stop right there!" You turned to find Gamora and Peter looking very disapproving while Rocket stood there looking smug with little Groot sat on his shoulder. Knowing you were defeated, your shoulders fell as you said, "I know, I know. 'Back to bed.'" As you made your way past them you looked down at the little twig and muttered, "Traitor." only to be met with him sticking his little tongue out at you playfully.

Your third attempt was much the same, only this time it was Mantis who caught you and she wasn't quiet about it at all when she went running off yelling to Yondu that you were out of bed again, much to your chagrin as it prompted him to come out of a nearby room. He didn't even have to say anything. He just stared you down, and you held up your hands in defeat and said "Ok! Ok! I'm going!" before scurrying the best you could back to your room.

You didn't even get out of your room on your fourth attempt, having opened the door to find Drax had been walking by at just that moment. He stopped and narrowed his eyes at you with arms crossed, daring you to try it. You looked at him awkwardly a moment before sighing and just closing the door. Maybe you'd take a nap and wait them out. You were a little sleepy...

On your fifth attempt you got nearly to the doors of the laundry when you heard someone shout, "Where do you think you're going?! Get back to bed!"

You turned around irritably to see it was Peter and Kraglin now, looking fairly cross. Seriously!? Why can't they just let you be!

You crossed your arms. "I have to blow out the dryer line, asshat. Where are you going?" you sassed.

Kraglin leaned to Peter and muttered something you couldn't quite make out. Something about the flight hangar? Oh well, probably wasn't important.

Peter looked at you like you were a misbehaving child. "I'm going to take you back to bed, that where I'm going."

You rolled your eyes and waved him off this time, turning your back on him to continue on your quest.

"Hey!" he scolded, effortlessly catching up with you and grabbing your arm to stop you. "I'm not kidding, you need to go back to bed." He put a hand to your forehead, this time succeeding since he had you by the arm and you couldn't get away. "You're burning up. Come on, back to bed." he repeated.

"Screw off." you say weakly, the sudden motion of being grabbed making you dizzy.

"See this is what I mean. You need to rest." Peter's tone was slightly more gentle now, but it didn't make you any less cranky. "Do you really think you're gonna puke blood and then just be allowed to walk about like everything's fine? You're crazy. You need to stay in bed until a doctor can see you!"

Huh. So that hadn't been a dream... Maybe it was the fever talking, but you didn't really care too much. You didn't want or need to see a doctor. You tried to reason with him.

"If I don't blow the lint out of the line it could catch fire. You want that, Star-Brat?" Ok, so you were still a bit cranky, probably could have said that nicer. Oh well. You tried to pry his hand away but failed, sighing in frustration.

"Already did it." Kraglin lied, throwing a hinting look to Peter.

Taking the cue Peter nodded. "Uh- Yeah, he got it done while you were sleeping.'"

"See?" Kraglin said, "Now you got nothing to worry about and you can just get some rest."

You jerked your arm and this time succeeded in freeing yourself, but not without feeling faint. "Nice try." you say, stumbling back a little. "There's still other stuff I needed to get done."

Peter grabbed your arm again, afraid you might fall backward if he didn't, and this time wasted no time marching you in the direction of your room. "And it can all wait until tomorrow. Right now you rest. This is the last time we're gonna tell you."

You looked at him confused. Last time? Had there been others? Oh right... you thought remembered him and Gamora yelling at you once before... oh and Yondu... you had forgotten Yondu. Bunch of mother hens...

Too weak to free yourself again you settled for complaining that you were fine, and for Peter to just let you go about your business. It all went on deaf ears.

On the way back to your room the three of you passed by Yondu, who laughed and said, "Told ya the squirt would try and escape again, didn't I? Just as stubborn as the two of you boys."

Peter chuckled, looking to the blue man and saying, "Remember that time we had to literally tie Kraglin to the bed when he caught the Kree flu and wouldn't stay in the Med Bay?"

Kraglin rolled his eyes and Yondu laughed, looking at you. "Now there's an idea!"

You shot him a look. "If you tie me down I swear I'll gut all of you," you say crankily.

"Stay in bed then and we won't have a problem," Yondu grinned, adding, "Don't make us have to knock you out."

You glared at him again but finally allowed Peter to lead you back to your room with minimal grumbling.

Once in your room he threw back your covers and ordered you to get into bed or else he and Kraglin would tie you to it. Afraid they might actually follow through with the threat, you obeyed, grumbling about how they were treating you like a child.

"Quit acting like one and we won't have to," Kraglin quipped, pointing to the water glass on your table and stating how you needed to keep your fluids up and that it better be gone by the time one of them came back to check on you.

You just turned on your side away from them and grumbled out a sleepy, "Yeah, yeah. Leave me alone."

Satisfied that you'd finally stay put the two men left the room. Once Peter closed the door behind them Kraglin said, "I guess I better actually go clean that dryer line now, huh?"

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, maybe."

***

Peter met up with Gamora on the flight deck. "How soon until the Doc can get here?"

As soon as he, Gamora, and Kraglin had all ran down from the flight deck to see what Yondu and Rocket were yelling about and found you passed out in Yondu's arms in front of a puddle of your own all-too-bloody sick they immediately sent Kraglin back up to call one of Berhert's doctors to try and get one to meet them at the ship, knowing they were still about three days out from even thinking about landing.

"Still about a day out," Gamora answered.

"I'm getting nervous," Peter admitted since it was just he and Gamora alone now. He told her how you were you were practically burning to the touch when he was dragging you back to your room for the final time, and even though you put on a good act with the banter, you couldn't hide from him the fact that you couldn't stop shivering or the way you looked like death warmed over.

He also told her what Kraglin had said, how they thought the fever was getting to you. When they found you last you were making your way towards the flight hangar, but you thought you were headed towards the laundry. They were on opposite ends of the ship.

Gamora validated his concerns, taking his hand to comfort him before saying, "Don't worry, the doctor will get here in time."

Peter sighed and nodded.

If- No. When you got better, Peter was going to kick your ass for making him worry.

***

You woke up again a few hours later feeling thirsty and achy. You looked over to see you still had about a sip of water left and drank it. Placing the glass back on the nightstand you stared at the ceiling for a moment before realizing you also needed to pee. Ugh. Inconvenient. If you couldn't work or do anything else you'd at least rather be sleeping. Actually, now that you thought about it, right now you didn't even want to work anymore. You just wanted sleep.

You knew surely you wouldn't get yelled at for being out of bed for getting up to use the toilet, so you sat up with the intent to roll out of bed and walk across the hall to do your business. Maybe you'd get some more water on the way as well.

No sooner had you sat up did you see it in the corner. Your stomach flipped and you rubbed your eyes, but it was still there. With horror in your eyes and your urge to use the toilet completely forgotten, you stared at the horrifying sight, unable to make a sound.

In the corner of the room was a humanoid figure, looking like it had been skinned alive. It was eyeless, only dark oozing holes remained where its eyes should have been, same with its nose. It was twitching grotesquely, blood and yellow ooze sloughing off its body as it did so, puddling about the floor at its feet. It tilted its head at you with a wicked toothy grin of sharp yellow teeth.

You pressed yourself against the headboard, shaking like mad, only a tiny squeak able to leave your throat. Sweat tickled down your forehead but you didn't dare move to wipe it away.

You sat like this for what felt like an eternity but was likely only a few moments before you heard the door to your room open and heard Yondu's voice.

"Me and Rat just came to make sure ya didn't run away again." He chuckled, before noticing the state of you and his tone changed. "What's the matter?"

You didn't look at him, didn't say anything, not wanting to take your eyes off the monster or do anything that might spur it into motion, and pointed a trembling hand at it.

Yondu looked where you were pointing. There was nothing there.

He looked down at a confused Rocket and just muttered, "Shit," realizing that you were likely hallucinating from the fever. He spoke to you softly, easing himself into the room so as to not make any sudden movements, "Listen here now, there's nothing there. It's alright."

You swallowed hearing his words. There was nothing there. There was nothing there. It couldn't hurt you. It couldn't-

It took a step towards you.

"Please," you managed to get out, jerking back into the headboard, trembling. You silently begged that you would fall asleep, or wake up, anything to make the nightmare before you go away.

Yondu's eyes widened and he held up his hands as he took another gentle step toward you despite how you still hadn't looked his way. "It's alright, you're ok, whatever it is- it's not real."

"Please," you say again, pleadingly, "Please knock me out."

Yondu looked at you in confusion. "What?"

"Please... Please. Knock me out. Sedate me- I don't care." You begged. You believed his voice when it said the creature wasn't real, or at very least you wanted to believe it very badly. However, believing it wasn't real didn't change the fact that you could still see it. Tears started to leak from your eyes. "Please make it stop."

Seeing you beg like that tore at something in Yondu's heart. You guys all did scary shit all the time. Came with the job of being part of the "Guardians of the Galaxy." Everyone had seen each other scared at some point, but this was different.

He spoke softly. "Ok, ok." He looked at Rocket for assistance. When he had threatened to knock you out earlier it had only been a joke. Other than sucker-punching you, which he had no intention of doing, he didn't actually have anything he could give you that would knock you out.

Rocket spoke up, uncharacteristically softly, trying to be helpful. "Look, it's ok, we're here, you're safe." He made to jump up on the bed before Yondu could stop him.

A reddish oozing blob similar to the creature in the corner but with reddish eyes jumped up by your feet and you screamed.

Yondu's scolding cry to Rocket of "Dammit, boy! No!" was drowned out by your cry as you kicked and sent the horrible thing flying to the end of your bed. It just managed to keep from falling to the floor by sinking its claws into the blanket, and it stood back up with a shake. You shrieked as you threw your empty water glass right at the creatures head only for it to catch it and toss it aside on the bed.

Then you felt strong hands grab your wrists. You heard Yondu's voice calling your name, saying it was alright, that everything was ok, but it wasn't Yondu. It was the creature from the corner.

"I don't think that's helping!" Rocket said, hopping off the bed to narrowly avoid being kicked again.

"Well jumpin' up on the bed wasn't yer brightest idea either, boy!" Yondu scolded back. You were sliding down the headboard, trying to get away from him, so he switched tactics. He traded gripping your wrists in favor of wrapping his arms around you, effectively pining your arms with your wrists against your chest in a hug so he could rock you gently saying, "Shh, it's alright, you're safe. It's alright. Shh."

Tears ran down your face as the creature wrapped itself around you. You turned your face away, kicking and struggling to break free as you cried softly, "No no no! Please no!"

Yondu continued to rock you, hoping you'd snap out of it. After a couple more shushes and assurances that you were safe, that weren't quite working, he threw a sideways glance at Rocket. "This doesn't leave this room, got it?"

Rocket cheekily replied, "Me? Tell everyone you're a giant softie? Never!"

Yondu glared at him and was about to say something snarky in return when he heard Mantis from the doorway.

She peeked in nervously. "Is everything ok? I was walking by and I heard screaming."

Rocket got an idea. Drax had told him how Mantis had put Ego, an entire living planet, to sleep. Surely a mere Terran should be no problem. "Mantis come here, we need your help."

Mantis quickly but shyly entered your room. Seeing the state of you in Yondu's arms she worriedly asked the pair if you were ok.

"Not exactly." Rocket answered honestly, telling Mantis how the fever put you in a bad way, and they now needed her help to put you to sleep so you'd feel better.

"Think you can do that for us, Bug?" Yondu asked, still holding you tightly as you cried and struggled to get away, his eyes nearly pleading.

Mantis nodded.

You felt the creature's arms wrap tighter and you kicked fruitlessly. You had kept your eyes shut tightly, but upon feeling that you almost had an arm free you allowed them to open.

You regretted it.

There was now also a shorter monster, just like the one from the corner that had you now in its clutches. Dark horns protruded from its forehead and it opened its glistening maw as it reached a bloodied, oozing hand toward your face.

You threw back your head in a weak, terrified, cry of anguish, struggling against the hold of the other monster as you kicked and sobbed a desperate, "Please no! Don't!" before once again darkness enveloped you.

Your struggling ceased and Yondu laid you down to rest on your pillow, brushing some sweaty hair back from your eyes before standing up.

"Jeez," Rocket said, shaking his head and wondering aloud what you had seen that made you do "that."

Yondu looked down to see that Rocket wasn't just referencing your terrified crying and thrashing. He made a face of pity before sighing and looking up at Mantis. "Sweetheart, I need ya to go fetch Gamora for me, alright? If ya can't find her get Drax. I'm gonna go find some more sheets."

***

When Mantis came and told Gamora what had happened she immediately had Peter call the doctor they sent for to ask him what to do. You were clearly worsening and Peter was worried the doctor wouldn't get there in time.

Once on the line and after finding your temperature was over 40°C, and learning about the hallucinations, the doctor instructed that you needed to be cooled down immediately, and suggested they place you in a cold bath or shower. After that, they needed to keep your fluids up and monitor your fever.

Until the doctor would get there in about 18 hours, there was unfortunately not much else he could tell them to do.

So they waited.

***

The next time you fully came-to was nearly two days later.

You woke up in your bed feeling tired but better than before. Your stomach was still slightly achy, but the terrible cramping was gone. You also didn't feel as cold and stiff as you previously had.

You sat up, this time without the room performing cartwheels as you did so, and you took that as a good sign.

The room was dimly lit, but you still noticed you were wearing different clothes. You also felt... cleaner than you'd expect, for lack of better word. You realized the implications were that one of the others had likely bathed and re-dressed you and you resolved not to think too much about it as you felt a blush start to creep up your neck.

A loud snore startled you and you looked over to see Drax asleep in a chair between the wall and your bed, an open magazine spread across his stomach where he must have fallen asleep reading it.

You quietly swung your feet over the bed, intent on stretching your legs a bit, but you were startled again when your feet touched down on the floor and a loud tinkling of bells set off, startling Drax awake in turn.

After a grunt and a rub of his eyes he looked at you disapprovingly, asking what you were doing.

"I was just going to walk around a bit," you answer, doing your best not to be snarky. "Why the hell are there bells trip-wired to my bed?"

"You're supposed to stay in bed. You kept trying to get up and falling. It was Rocket's idea so we'd hear you trying to escape."

It was your turn to make a disapproving face, but you supposed you couldn't exactly be mad at them for caring, even if it seemed unnecessary. "Well, why are you here?"

"We've been taking shifts to watch over you, Peter said we were waiting for your fever to break, but I told him waiting for your temperature to return to normal would be sufficient."

"Oh," is all you could say, brushing off his absurd literalness. "Um, thank you." you add quietly. You hadn't realized.

"Yes. Now will you go back to bed, or do you need help going to the toilet again?"

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Well, each time you were almost awake enough to think you could walk the past couple days it was because you needed to use the toilet or you were going to vomit. I just assumed you were doing it again. You're very stubborn."

"No, Drax." you say, blushing fully now. You weren't sure if you were embarrassed more by his bluntness or the new knowledge that the others had to help you pee and clean up your sick. You didn't even want to think about if they had to wipe your ass. You'd literally die. "Even if I did, I can do it by myself. I feel much better now." It wasn't until then that it hit you what he had said. "Wait- Did you say two days?"

"I did."

"I've been out... for two days?"

"Yes."

"So... this whole time? ...You guys have been looking out for me?"

"Yes." Drax answered, seeming confused why you'd even ask. "Us and the doctor that came by yesterday." He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you crying?"

You wiped at your eyes quickly, having wished he hadn't noticed the tears that sprang to your eyes and filled your waterline. "I'm not," you sniff, looking down a the bed. "Just... Thanks. You didn't need to do that, so thanks. You can go to bed now. I feel better now. Sorry."

Drax stood. "Why are you apologizing? That's what family is supposed to do." He picked up a thermometer that had been placed on your nightstand and aimed it at your forehead. "And we did need to. You are small and weak like Peter. You would have died if we hadn't." The thermometer beeped and Drax read it. "You're right, your temperature is almost back to normal. But I suggest you still go back to sleep."

You wanted to tell him he was being dramatic about the dying part, but then you remembered that you actually didn't really remember much past seeing your bloody vomit, and you had absolutely no memory of any doctor, so you didn't push it.

"If your fever is gone you no longer need to be watched. I'll let the others know. Goodnight." Drax said, walking around the bed towards the door.

"Uh, Drax?"

He turned to you. "Yes?"

You wrapped your arms around his middle. "Thanks again."

He returned the hug, patting you on the back as he said, "You don't need to thank me. I know you'd do the same in return. Now sleep."

You pulled back from the hug and nodded, a gesture that you'd be good and go to sleep.

Drax seemed to want the confirmation of you getting back under the covers though, so with a light laugh huffed through your nose you crawled back between the sheets and obeyed. Seemingly satisfied, Drax finally left.

***

You woke the next morning feeling almost completely like yourself again.

You washed up and dressed, but not before removing the trip-wire bells from your bed, and then you made your way out of your room to get a glass of water and see if you could find the others.

Turned out, both the water and your teammates were all in the same place.

You walked into the kitchen to find everyone already inside. Before you could say anything Kraglin spoke up.

"Look! The world's worst patient lives!" he said with a grin.

"Nah, Krags, that's still you." Yondu corrected, giving you a wink as Peter agreed with him, but amended that it was a close race.

You walked over to a cabinet to get yourself a glass. "Drax told me what you guys did, and- well, thanks," you say walking over to the sink. "I mean, spare me the details, I don't want to hear anymore about it than what Drax already told me happened, but still, thanks. You didn't need to." You filled your glass and turned back to face them, sipping your water.

Yondu noted your blush and nudged you in the arm on his way to the coffee. "Don't mention it, kid."

This sentiment was met with nods and verbalizations of agreement from the others. You were family. That's what family did.

"Kay, but next time, which I hope there won't be, just stay in bed." Peter laughed.

"Yeah, yeah." you say, grumbling playfully.

"You hear that? Someone write that down." said Rocket, "We're going to hold you to that."

"Don't push it." you say, eyeing the raccoon.

"What? Your stubborn ass only tried to escape like a hundred times," Kraglin joked.

"And that's my cue to get to work," you say, setting your glass on the counter with the intent to run away from this conversation. However, you were stopped by Yondu grabbing your sleeve with an "Ah, Ah" and Gamora shoving a bowl of Yarrow Root across the table with the command to "Eat something first. You don't want to set yourself back and get sick again."

You sighed but didn't argue, knowing it was better to comply and realizing you were a little hungry anyway. You took a root from the bowl and bit into it to satisfy your friends.

That's when Peter speaks up and tells you that the doctor said you needed to take it easy for at least a day or two.

You narrowed your eyes. "When?"

"When she was here."

"When was that?" You take another bite of the root.

"Couple days ago."

You swallow. "Well then I'm considering that as time served." you say, deciding you'd take your breakfast to go.

Drax blocked your path.

"Um, can I get through?"

"No. Quill said this might happen. I'm stopping you from escaping. Finish your breakfast."

You shoot a glare at Peter before giving a hopeful look to Rocket. "You can talk some sense into them, right?"

Rocket shrugged. "Not my problem." before collecting Groot and leaving the kitchen with Mantis, who mouthed the word "Sorry" to you as they left.

You sighed, knowing there sure as hell wasn't any reasoning with the other five. "Really? This is what we're gonna do?"

"Yep." Peter grinned. Yondu and Kraglin simply shrugged behind their coffee.

Once you relented and sat down Gamora stood and stated that it wouldn't kill you to rest after being sick before leaving with Drax, who had apparently decided his job as security guard was now over. He said he was glad you were feeling better before following Gamora to the door and saying to her, without consideration that you could still hear, something to the tune that he imagined you felt better... now that you weren't puking and soiling yourself.

You choked on your water.

The other three pretended to be utterly fixated with the table and walls of the kitchen and you covered your face with your hands and moaned, "Next time please let me die."

"Will ya settle for us forgettin' it happened and never speakin' of it again?" Kraglin asked, fighting back a chuckle.

"Yes please." you squeaked from behind your hands.

Seeing an opportunity and taking it Peter added, "You still have to take the next couple days easy though."

"Anything!" you promise, lowering your head to the table.

"I think we got ourselves a deal." Yondu laughed, getting up to put his now empty coffee cup in the sink. "C'mon squirt, I'm sure we can find somethin' to take your mind off it."

And you did. You spent the next couple days just hanging around the ship with the guys and watching old movies Peter had collected over the years, telling funny stories, playing cards, and actually keeping your promise to let your body rest. Before long the whole ordeal was all but forgotten, but you were still always grateful for your family.

You knew no matter what, they had your back.

[seasonofthewicth]

next to you

I’ve wanted to write this exact scenario for rowaelin for so long and today I was supposed to write for agkol so obviously this came out. Rowaelin - 2.4k

part 2

-

“It’s totally fine,” Aedion says, his broad arm a warm weight around her shoulders as they both take in the room before them. And the bed. Aelin doesn’t move to take a step any further than their perch in the doorway. “He’s away for the weekend, he won’t know.”

A more sober Aelin would probably protest, but as it is she’s had a couple too many glasses of wine and she really doesn’t fancy having to order an Uber back to her own place. 

She had come over to Aedion’s under the pretence of watching a movie with her cousin and his girlfriend, but she had made the first mistake of inviting Dorian who had made the second mistake of bringing the wine. 

One thing had led to another which had led to the four of them lying around in various states of non-sobriety in the roof garden of Aedion’s building. At one point she’d slung on his fleece for extra warmth as she curled into Lysandra’s side as they watched the stars. Aedion and Dorian had stood at the railings looking over the city, sharing a smoke as they spoke in voices too low for Aelin to hear. 

All in all, a good night.

The view from the roof terrace catches her breath each time she visits, it’s high enough to capture the lines of the city in all directions and being so high up, at such a step back, always feels like a breath of fresh air. 

Aedion has a cool apartment, one she wishes she could afford, with it’s basement gym, the scenic garden and it’s unfailing hot water system. It’s a shame she doesn’t spend more time here. 

She chews her lip as she takes in the tidy bedroom before her, the crisp green sheets on the bed, the orderly desk in the corner with only a laptop and a lamp atop it, the laundry hamper in the corner surely holding the dirty clothes that in Aelin’s place live on the floor until she can bring herself to wash them. 

It wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world to crash in Aedion’s roommate’s bed for the night. Like Aedion says, he’s away for the weekend and she can change the sheets afterwards so he'll never know she was there. 

She can’t believe she’s actually considering it but the wine is wearing off slightly now leaving her feeling like she wants to collapse into the giant bed and bury herself beneath the covers. 

“Well,” Aedion says from her side, his voice only slightly slurred. “It’s here if you want it. I’m going to hit the hay. Whatever you decide, don’t walk home. I can call you a cab.”

“You’re sure he’s away for the weekend?” Aelin says as she shrugs out from underneath his arm. 

“Hundred percent,” Aedion nods as she steps closer towards the welcoming bed. 

Well, it’s decided then.

“Ah,” Aelin moans as she finally collapses onto the bed. She can’t believe she ever considered getting a taxi home, the sheets beneath her cheek are luxuriously soft and the mattress - gods the mattress. She could sink into it and stay here forever, it cups and moulds around each of her curves and she can’t help the sigh of satisfaction that slips out of her.  

Aedion’s laugh sounds from behind her as he shuts the door. “Night, Ae.”

Her own response is muffled into the brushed cotton beneath her. She lies still for a moment, resting her eyes as the buzz of the booze settles into her. There’s a thrumming beneath her skin, and the room spins somewhat as she lays still with her eyes shut gently against the sensations. Her fingertips are definitely tingling, a sign that she knows she’ll feel rotten in the morning, but for now the bliss of a dark room and a soft bed beneath her are all that her mind can care to contemplate.

It’s been a while since she’s hung out with her cousin, both of them just busy, and she’s missed him. She’s missed the easy companionship they have and the slick conversations they have, only aided tonight by the presence of Dorian and Lysandra and the wine. 

She snorts a laugh into the sheets and the movement causes the button of her jeans to dig into her stomach. She forces herself up with a groan and just manages to tug off the stiff denim, slinging the offending item across the room somewhere.

She laughs to herself at the thought of her already messing up such a clean room. 

She doesn’t know Aedion’s roommate that well. She knows he’s called Rowan, and that he’s twenty-eight and now she knows that he has a disgustingly tidy room. Or he did, she adds to herself as she throws her top to the other side of the room. 

Rowan only moved in with her cousin a couple of months ago, but from his room she can guess he’s uptight and quite possibly deathly boring. How Aedion lives with someone like that she doesn’t know, Aelin’s own roommates - Manon and Elide - are the perfect level of chaos with just enough order to function. 

Aelin considers her options as she slumps on the corner of his bed, clad only in her underwear. Sleeping in a bra is uncomfortable but would she want to be naked in this stranger’s bed? Whether or not she changes the sheets afterwards he could be sweaty or gross or worse. He could have had guests in this bed before her. 

Her gaze lands on a chest of drawers tucked against the wall on the far side of the room and before she knows she’s tiptoeing across and tugging open a drawer. Bingo. In-keeping with the rest of the room there are rows and rows of neatly folded t-shirts and before she can second guess herself she tugs out a black one, tugging it over herself before slipping off her bra and dropping it to the floor. 

Another thing she’s learning tonight about Aedion’s mysterious roommate? He’s absolutely huge. 

Aelin is far above average height for a woman and still, Rowan’s t-shirt hits mid thigh. She feels somewhat scandalous, in his room and wearing his clothes without his knowledge. A thought pops into her mind before she can help it - she hopes he doesn’t have a girlfriend. 

Aelin launches herself back at the bed, sliding into the sleek sheets before flicking off the light at her side. She nestles in tightly, burrowing into the deliciously inviting bed and takes a deep breath. Gods this Rowan person smells good too. 

She relaxes into the softness of the sheets and the euphoria that is lying on his mattress. In combination with the wine it doesn’t take her long at all to drift off. 

When she wakes Aelin is aware of two things. 

Firstly, her mouth tastes like shit. That would be the wine and not brushing her teeth the night before.

Secondly, she’s not alone. 

It takes her a few beats to realise, but there’s a strong arm slung around her waist, tucking her into a broad chest. A puff of breath dashes across her neck as the man takes each slow, deep breath as he slumbers behind her. 

Aelin lays still for a moment, her brain not yet fully turned on. 

She definitely went to bed alone, but maybe-

“Dorian?” She whispers into the dark, trying to roll over to see him, but the strong arm around her waist is clamped too tightly for her to get anything more than a glance. She has no idea where Dorian ended up last night but it wouldn’t be the first time they had ended up in bed together.

“Dorian?” She tries again and the man behind her shifts allowing her an eyeful of the top of the head tucked into the crook of her neck. 

Well, the man with the silver hair is definitely not Dorian, and as he shifts he tugs her tighter against him and shit. The pressure of morning wood against her backside is unmistakable. 

Aelin’s mouth goes dry as her traitorous body grinds back into it, her ass rubbing against the hard length. 

Nope. 

“Hey,” She whispers, louder this time as she tries to pry his hand from her waist. “Wake up.”

The man shifts, rolling back slightly away from her, his hand sliding up from her waist to sit on her hip. A low moan sounds from the back of his throat as he begins to wake and damn if Aelin doesn’t clamp her thighs together at the sound. 

She finally manages to wrestle herself up onto her elbows and she twists around to get a look at the man she definitely did not share a bed with last night when she went to sleep. 

Yet another thing she’s learning about Aedion’s roommate Rowan? He’s fucking gorgeous. 

In the dim light of the morning she can make out the sharp line of his jaw and the full curve of his lips, even as they twist into a slight frown. His silver brows are drawn together as he shifts and as his eyes flutter open she’s greeted by the most striking green eyes she’s ever seen. 

“What the fuck?” Even his voice is sexy, the low rasp sending shivers down her spine, heat sparking from the hand still resting on her hip. 

As though they remember that point of contact at the same time he jerks his hand back and repeats his earlier question. “Who are you?” He hisses. 

“I’m Aelin.” She says as though it’s the most obvious answer. “What are you doing in here?”

He lets out a disbelieving laugh and Aelin curses herself for how hot she finds it. Objectively, she is in the wrong, but she’s going to blame Aedion. 

“What am I doing here?” He says. “This is my bed. What are you doing here?”

Aelin shrugs as if this is a regular occurrence, “Aedion said I could crash here.”

Rowan lifts his hand to draw it across his face, letting out another dark curl of laughter as he rolls onto his back, seemingly needing a minute to process the situation he has found himself in. Aelin catches the shadows of dark ink down his arm and curses her cousin for not introducing them earlier, she’s quite enjoying her morning. 

“Did he now?”

She’s very much aware that she’s still tucked into his side, his right arm curled beneath her pillow as he lays back. She drops herself down from her elbows, her head is aching and Rowan doesn’t seem to be making sense of this any time soon so she may as well get comfortable.

He doesn’t shy away from her, in fact his thumb brushes against the cotton of his t-shirt covering her shoulder. 

Rowan pulls his hand away from his face and tilts his head to face her fully. 

Those green eyes make her feel like she’s caught in the most enticing of traps. She couldn’t look away if she tried. 

“Are you wearing my shirt?” He asks, and Aelin shrugs as she glances down at herself. 

It’s a glance that allows her the knowledge that Rowan himself is not wearing a shirt and the broad, muscular planes of his chest start her heart beating quickly. The ink on his arm stretches onto his upper chest and Aelin wants to touch. 

“You should be thankful,” She says. “I almost didn’t.” 

Rowan opens his mouth to say something, but then seems to change his mind. Instead he shifts up onto an elbow and rolls over so that he’s leaning towards her. Aelin can’t stop her brain from imagining how it would feel if he slipped his thigh between hers. How she could shuffle down slightly to press his leg right where she wants it, and the darkening of Rowan’s eyes tells her he’s contemplating giving her exactly what she wants. 

When his eyes flick to her lips Aelin wishes she’d bothered to brush her teeth last night. 

This is not where she saw her morning going when she was too lazy to call a cab last night but she’s far from complaining. 

The cocky smile that slips onto his lips has her mouth dropping open. Short, sharp breaths draw her chest up and down and Rowan glances down to where she’s not wearing a bra beneath his t-shirt and the sleepy but still predatory smile grows. 

Aelin can’t draw her eyes away from that smile, away from the wicked curve of his lips as his leg shifts closer to her beneath the covers. 

“Aelin, are you-” The burst of light that fills the room as Aedion barges in burns her eyes and Aelin squeezes her eyes shut tight against it. 

“Um, I… Rowan?” Her cousin manages, still frozen in the doorway. 

Aelin knows what this looks like, Rowan is almost on top of her and she knows she’s flushed from his proximity. 

He clears his throat as he eases back away from her, the cool air that fills the space between them clears her head enough for her eyes to flicker open. 

“Yeah, I decided to come home last night instead.” His voice is tight, Aelin notes with a hint of pride. “Didn’t know you were offering out my bed while I was gone.”

Aelin can only bite her lip in what she hopes in a not-guilty expression. From the pure bewilderment clouding Aedion’s expression she’s not sure she achieves it. 

“You weren’t supposed to be back until later,” Aedion says, his voice still sounding strangled. “I wasn’t expecting this to happen.” 

Aelin snorts, tugging herself up to sit against the headboard, her thigh pressing against Rowan’s bare shoulder. His green eyes dart to the point of contact before locking onto her own and that gaze makes Aelin blush all over again. 

Rowan huffs a laugh as Aelin says, “Yeah, me neither.” 

She can’t draw her eyes away from Rowan’s face. She doesn’t care that he’s probably boring or uptight as she guessed in her snooping through his bedroom last night as long as he keeps on looking at her like that. 

“Aedion,” She says in a low voice as she manages to draw her gaze from Rowan, who’s firm shoulder is brushing against her thigh beneath the duvet. “Get out.”

[theladyismyshepard]

2 of prompt hope? The brunette Cassandra has a maiden for a pet for now, But another maiden is in love with her?? inspired by robyn dancing on my own. Angst? Good ending or however you end it?

I love that song 😍 I totally got you, my friend, thank you for the prompt!

Warning: sex, blood, violence, honestly, 18+ only

So Far Away, But Still So Near

There were three things that were common knowledge to those who lasted more than a few weeks as a maid within Castle Dimitrescu (there weren’t many familiar faces however).

One was that the hallways of the castle echoed with the wails of the dying, and it was to be none of their business to be snooping into... There was a maid who panicked when she heard screaming for the first time, and it wasn’t moments later that hers mixed melodically with the next.

Second, a maid is not allowed to make a single mistake in their duties, or in the presence of the Dimitrescu family. The maid who made the mistake of opening up the curtains a mere peek was dragged down to the cellar, never to be seen again.

And lastly... you were the only maiden allowed to live a trapped life above the cellar where men and young women stuttered out their last breathes before becoming a constant drip that always sent you to your initial awakening inside a cage that was seeping blood from every corner.

When you had blinked slowly, allowing your eyes time to adjust to lantern light, you caught sight of a smile so twisted, you couldn’t say for sure it wasn’t a frown. There was blood that painted those lips, red and shining in the dancing light. Golden eyes glowed as they bore into you with such intensity, you thought for sure she would eat you alive.

Brown hair cascaded down to her chest, and it was wild and untamed. If she looked as unkempt as she was, you briefly wondered how bad your appearance must look, subconsciously reaching up to run your fingers through greasy locks of hair, grimacing when they snagged on a tangle.

You became acutely aware that your clothes had been changed for you. Gone were your regular clothes, and in their place was nothing more than a silk nightgown, even your underwear had been stolen right off your body. You felt exposed under her gaze.

“You smell irresistible,” she whispered, her fingers tight around the bars of your cage.

Fear plagued you, prompting your heart to stutter in your chest. It brought a laugh from the brunette, and a shiver went through you that you couldn’t fully comprehend. Her eyes narrowed as she slowly smirked, teeth on display. Some looked sharp enough to kill... the teeth of a predator.

“You’re quite a beauty, aren’t you?” she drawled lecherously, her eyes roaming your nearly exposed body.

“Have you seen yourself?” you went for flattery at this point, and you knew you chose the right route when her face went slack for a moment before bursting out into a laugh.

“And a charmer, too?”

The door to your cage opened, her eyes never leaving you. She slowly swayed her hips alluringly with every step she took towards you, her smirk unwavering. She had you cornered and fearful as she stood over you, a sickle in hand. What was she planning to do?

You felt a sharp stinging as you felt your flesh tear suddenly. The cool touch of metal pressed against the cut on your lower thigh, and you grimaced when you felt grime dig into your skin. Blood coated the blade of her sickle, and she withdrew before bringing it to her mouth. Her tongue flicked out, and she slowly dragged her tongue along the length of the blade, her eyes staring into yours.

“By far my favorite delicacy,” she moaned, her eyes darkening to nearly black.

You had felt something stirring in the pit of your stomach as warmth flooded your core at the sound that came from her mouth. She sniffed audibly, an eyebrow arched in interest at your reaction.

“My, oh my, you continue to intrigue me.” she turned her chin up, examining you in a way that felt as though she were looking down on you. “Here you are, trapped alone in blood and darkness and yet... I can smell your need.”

You felt a streak of defiance rush through your chest, but you bit your tongue, knowing you’d lose the war trying to win a battle. She had complimented you in a couple ways, but what she hasn’t shown appreciation for was your brain and wits.

“You intrigue me as well.” you admitted, confused by it.

The brunette chuckled wickedly, almost entertained, and you supposed it was in your favor to be capable of entertaining her. When her shoulders had stopped shaking and she ogled you once again, you hoped the gleam in her eye was a good thing.

“My name is Cassandra... I will give you time... and I will show you why that is a very bad idea.”

You blinked the memory away as you always did. That was nearly a year ago, and you would stride every day to prove your worth within the castle, knowing your virginity tethered you to a life of uncertainty as you lived among those who preyed on innocence.

To this day, you still didn’t know what kept you alive and working as a maid for the Dimitrescu family. You could tell Cassandra’s sisters weren’t overly thrilled with having something so tempting wandering within the walls, just within reach, and being unable to defile... What had you the most unsure was the tension between Cassandra and her gigantic mother.

Lady Dimitrescu would always inhale deeply when you leaned in to pour their wine during dinner. What keeps me alive? You couldn’t answer, and you weren’t sure who could. You had originally thought it was Cassandra’s influence and interest in you seeing as she had helped you out of the cellar, but she hardly looked at you when you waited on their every want and need.

The only thing you could say for her was that she didn’t snap at you like she violently did with the other maids, or even with her own sisters when one was pushed too far. She never said please or thank you, but her requests weren’t as sharp as they could be, which were few and far between.

What really had you thinking you were going crazy was the day you stood perfectly still by the far wall along with a couple other maids, unseen but at the ready should the family have a demand, and you heard Cassandra announce that she had a new pet in the cellar. The wild giggles from her sisters and the smirk from Alcina had a spring coiling tightly in your gut, and you could’ve sworn you were familiarized with the white-hot anger surging through your chest.

You couldn’t comprehend why you felt so flustered over Cassandra having someone else holding her attention. You could hardly call it “making you feel special”, but you could’ve sworn there was something about you that got you farther than most maidens who were unfortunate enough to find themselves trapped within the castle.

Your hand balled into a fist and you were subconsciously wearing a deep frown. You also didn’t catch the way multicolored eyes caught the look you were sporting or the triumphant smirk that followed. All you could do was stare at your feet and hope you didn’t bring attention to yourself, that’s all any of the maids did.

“Do not neglect your pet for too long, Cassandra.” said Alcina, dabbing her chin before she arose from the table.

“I’m going, mother,” promised Cassandra, bowing her head.

You watched as the Lady seemed to escort the entire room out of the dining area. Bela silently trailed behind her mother, hardly sparing any of the servants a glance on her way out. Daniela was still nibbling on a piece of something that you did not want to think about. Her eye met yours and she smiled toothily.

“Bye bye,” she said in a sing-song voice.

You shivered and she laughed as she walked out, and that only left Cassandra. She seemed to hypnotically sway her hips with each step she took as she followed her family. Your slight daze was broken by her throaty chuckle, and you already know you’ve been caught staring.

“Another time,” came her velvety voice, and you cursed your body for reacting before your brain could. Your eyes were glued to her ass the entire time she left.

It was quite pitiful really, how she could turn you to mush with words alone, all while her chin dribbled with blood from her fresh meal; and after she just spoke of her new plaything no less. What the fuck is wrong with me? What made it worse was that Cassandra was well aware of that fact.

What had you knowing you had gone crazy was when you couldn’t help the hatred you felt towards Cassandra’s new pet that seemed to be lingering around... since when did you start referring to living as lingering?

The pet always trailed after Cassandra, clinging to her side as if she were salvation. You remember a point in time where you thought she was your salvation. You passed them in the halls together, she was seated at Cassandra’s feet during “tea time” with the family, you could hear her moaning when you would passed by Cassandra’s room.

The wide, fearful eyes of the poor, young woman made you sick when they landed on you pleadingly. Oh how you wished to be in her place and yet here she was, afraid. You felt nothing over the tears that fell from her cheeks and landed on the bruises littering her bare thighs.

You felt like a monster.

Like what everything that could make you human had been burned away with hatred and negativity and darkness. It left you a hollow shell as you lost all sense of who you used to be. You felt chewed up and spit out and forced to work with what you had left.

Why were you still alive?

It was the same question bouncing in your head every day, yet you were no closer to finding the answer now, than you were the day before. At what point do you just give up? At what point do you just accept the desolate feeling gripping you until your final breath? Would death actually be a blessing over the lack of existence in Castle Dimitrescu?

That was the real question you had unfortunately began to live by. Your perfect touch to every duty assigned to you was slacking. It was imperceptible at first to all except Cassandra, but she bit her tongue, instead, choosing to keep her eyes glued to you every time you were in close proximity.

Your change in character went unnoticed until it became very obvious. Your rapid response became slower, almost outwardly showing how much you didn’t care to be there. Your attention to detail slipped as well as you started forgetting little things here and there during your duties.

Your steadiness shook when you served them, and wouldn’t you know it, your hand finally slipped one evening when you were pouring crimson tea into Daniela’s cup. The stream hit the lip of the cup and dripped onto her robe. You barely had time to register the shriek before something sharp slashed across your face, sending you to the floor.

All you could focus on was the stinging along your cheek and the bridge of your nose. You didn’t hear four different long inhales. You didn’t hear growling. You certainly didn’t hear Cassandra jerking Daniela’s arm until she faced her and the reverberating slap that followed.

“Never touch what isn’t yours!”

You did hear that shriek, and it had you finally looking up, taking in the scene. Blood was smeared all across your palm, and it was still flowing freely down your face, into your mouth, down your chin... You felt like you were served right on a platter for them.

You just felt a small sense of relief that Lady Dimitrescu’s narrowed eyes weren’t directed at you. They were mere slits and the frown lines showed her clear distaste. Her gaze was settled on Cassandra towering over Daniela’s shocked, still-seated form. Then the Lady’s gaze shifted to Cassandra’s pet, cowering away and watching the display with fright and confusion. It wasn’t long before her eyes were glued on you, leaving you glued to the floor.

“Cassandra,” her voice was eerily calm, but anyone with the sense of hearing could detect the cold fury hidden away. “You are only allowed one.”

Your eyes cut to Cassandra in time to see the dark rage swirling in hers, and you could see how feral she was becoming. You knew she was passed the point of rationality, there was no clear and coherent thought in her head... things were about to get sloppy and you were very afraid.

So afraid that it didn’t make a lick of sense when Cassandra took her silverware and lodged it straight into her pet’s chest. The sight of the young woman gurgling and choking on her own blood had you ensnared. You couldn’t look away, your eyes wide and unblinking in shock as she slumped and gasped and cried. You didn’t even feel the ones spilling down your cheeks.

“Do not ever touch my pet again.” warned Cassandra, hissing straight at her sister before turning to you. “Come... now!”

You scrambled, forcing your paralyzed joints to move. She was already stalking out of the room, dragging you by your wrist once you were on your feet. You apologized every time you tripped or stumbled, but silenced yourself when she snapped after the fifth time.

You weren’t sure what to feel after watching her kill her pet right in front of you. Cassandra was callous and a flat out sadist, she enjoyed working the screams from her victims, but she was acting purely deranged now. You wanted to ask where she was taking you, but common sense was telling you it was to her bedroom.

And you didn’t have time to catch up mentally before you were pulled through the doorway of her room and slammed against the door when she closed it. Cassandra’s tongue was immediately drawing a line from your chin all the way up to your forehead, cleaning a trail of blood and then some, leaving you a quivering mess.

She was moaning as she buried her face in your neck, her fangs piercing into your flesh. You yelped, your body jolting back against the door. She giggled madly, and it was your turn to moan out.

“Such a delicacy,” she whispered out before switching sides and biting into the other side.

You couldn’t help but shout again, even though you were prepared for it.

“Don’t worry, beautiful, I’m just making sure they all know who is allowed to touch you.”

She returned to suckling greedily at your blood, but her hand was trailing up your shirt until she roughly cupped your breast, her thumb rubbing small circles around your nipple. You squirmed against the door, but gasped when she scooped you up and dropped you onto her bed, her eyes alight.

“You are only allowed to follow my orders now, you will not tend to my sisters any further.” demanded Cassandra, straddling your thighs and literally tearing the maid’s uniform from your body.

“Command me, Mistress,” you moaned out, finally allowing yourself to get into what was happening, and you were rewarded for your comment by lips crashing into yours, a tongue immediately forcing its way into your mouth.

One hand returned to massaging your breast, and her mouth placed open mouthed kisses along your throat and collarbone before finally reaching your nipple, where she latched on.

You gasped, your head throwing back and your eyes slamming closed as her tongue swirled around the pink bud, sucking as roughly as she did when she fed from you. You’ve been deprived for so long that all you could do was squirm as warmth spread through your gut and dripped slickly down your thigh.

Her other hand grew tired of kneading your other nipple, and found itself teasing down your pubic bone before rubbing the same circles her tongue was drawing around your nipple with her fingers around your clit.

“Cassandra!” You groaned, your hands in her hair, keeping her where she was.

She bit down, and if she drew blood, it was licked away before you could tell. The fingers that were rubbing you were soon dipping inside, your wetness aiding her in sliding in. It was driving you crazy with sensory overload, and your hands flew to the bedsheets, gripping them tightly in your fists.

She hooked your leg around her hip to make it easier to thrust her fingers deeper inside of you. Your breath stuttered in your chest as pressure built inside of you. It started in the pit of your stomach, but warmth was spreading all throughout your body now, and she gave a few final pumps, you were coming around her, calling out her name as your body tightened and released.

She didn’t have time to let you recover before she was climbing up your body, settling herself comfortably on your face. You happily went to work on her, your tongue lashing out and licking along her clit. You didn’t give yourself time to relish in her moans before you buried your tongue deep inside of her, altering between flattening it and flicking it hard along her walls.

You felt her trembling around your tongue and it had you feeling deeply satisfied. Cassandra panted as one hand gripped the headboard, using it to help her ride your face, the other was woven into your hair, keeping you in place as well.

For all the moans you pulled from her, she came silently down your chin before sliding off, falling back onto her side beside you, head propped up on her hand, staring down at you. Now she was relishing in watching you recover from your activities. As you came down from your high, you couldn’t help but ask the burning question.

“Why am I still alive?”

She blinked down at you, clearly not expecting that question, but she wasn’t snapping at you so you were good. She took on a thoughtful look before she smirked down at you, crawling back on top of you.

“You are still intrigued by me and fortunately for you, I am still intrigued by you.” She said in between kisses down your body.

She paused when she hovered over where you needed her most.

“I’ll warn you though... I lose interest fast.”

And continued to show just how interested she was in the now. Lucky you.

[astridthevalkyrie]

summer rain: chapter 2

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

Chapter 1, Chapter 3

Okay, okay, so, you’d prided yourself on your plan. Getting the lieutenant himself to train you personally so you could learn his weaknesses and use his own tricks to one day take him down and humiliate him in front of everyone - it’s convoluted, but it’s a good idea. It’ll take a while, but it’ll work if you stay dedicated. Right? Right.

But you hadn’t actually expected him to agree. And so easily at that. He’d given you a quick look over as though he was scanning for some potential scheme, and then he’d readily said he would train you, which not only shocked you, it shocked both Captain Erwin and the woman who you learned was Lieutenant Hange Zoe. If his friends were surprised, then this must be out of character of him. You can’t imagine why he possibly would willingly take you under his wing.

Maybe...maybe the harsh treatment was some twisted way of looking out for you. A small bit of guilt blooms in your chest at the thought, but you quickly squash it down. There are other ways to prepare someone for their future than by publicly embarrassing and physically harassing them. A simple hey, focus up, cadet would have sufficed. Not that you’d have listened, but he doesn’t know that.

Yeah, he’s just a dick. He probably has his own messed up reasons to be doing this. You have to mentally prepare yourself for whatever cruel and unusual punishment he’ll be inflicting upon you.

His instructions ring through your head as you go to bed that night.

“Be at the grounds at 4 AM, sharp. Don’t be late.”

However, that’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s bad enough that you have to adjust your sleep schedule to wake up at 8 AM instead of 11 AM since they don’t allow for beauty sleep at the Training Corp (how are you supposed to maintain your flawless skin?), but now he expects you to be up and out of bed four whole hours than everyone else? No one is expected to be up at that time. Not even him. People are sleeping at 4 AM. No, you’re absolutely not going to be getting up just to train with a grouchy, perverted midget, thanks very much. If he was serious when he gave you those instructions, he’s going to have to deal with someone who values their shut-eye time. Sorry not sorry, Lieutenant. Your dreams are pleasant that night, letting you visit the market on the edge of Stohess which always smelled of fresh fruits and exotic perfume.

You’re content with your decision until a fucking wave crashes on you and brutally brings you back to the world of the living.

With a heaving gasp, you sit up straight in a coughing frenzy, spitting up water. Your hair is soaked, along with your nightgown. Fat droplets run down your face and bite into your cheeks. It’s cold.

“Be quiet,” Lieutenant Levi mutters casually, as though he didn’t just dump a bucket of water on you, “you’ll wake up the others.”

You gape at him incredulously, bringing your hands up to frantically wipe water off your face. For a second, you forget all formalities and you forget he ranks far higher than you, or perhaps you just don’t care, and you splutter out what you’ve been wondering since the moment you met him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

For someone who seems to enjoy teaching you discipline, he never actually tells you off for these comments. Instead of chiding you for being rude, he says in a snippy tone, “I’ve been waiting for ten minutes. Get up, or I’ll refill the bucket.”

You don’t need any further encouragement. You throw off the thin and wet blanket and stand up, now fully awake. He rolls his eyes when he sees how silky your nightgown is - yeah, he damn well should feel bad for soaking such an expensive piece of fabric, the asshole. It’s worth more than that stupid tacky cravat he’s always sporting, that’s for sure.

Fortunately, no one else has woken up. Thank Maria, you’re not sure you could stomach someone seeing Lieutenant Levi demeaning you yet again. You shakily grab your clothes and uniform, and then turn to him. He raises a brow.

“Some privacy would be appreciated, sir.” You cross your arms over your chest protectively.

He scoffs pointedly, as though to tell you he’d have to be absolutely obtuse to want to see you naked, to which you only take a little offense. He gives you orders to hurry the fuck up and then leaves the barracks. You’re tempted to take your sweet time changing, but you really, really don’t want to risk getting soaked again. You just wish that you had time to dry your hair - the morning air outside is bound to be freezing. Sighing, you tie it up tightly, mourning the days you could let your precious tresses fly freely. Stupid military, stupid titans, stupid lieutenant. You dislike all of them greatly. In that order.

When you join him outside, he’s leaning against a tree, looking at you dully.

“Managed to have a tea party before you got down here, (L/N)? Or have you always walked at the speed of a snail?”

Holy hells help you, this is going to be a long day.

You salute, and he lets out a small tch, walking up to you and sizing you up. You tense up immediately, you wouldn’t put it past him to knock you down again for the heinous crime of making him wait.

“This is how this is going to work, Cadet.” He stands right in front of you and you force yourself not to look in his eyes, choosing to look at the pretty leaves on the birch tree behind him. “Every morning, from 4 AM to 6 AM, you’re here, and you’re doing whatever the hell I tell you to.” Probably allowing him to punch you in the face repeatedly. “Then you go back, get two more hours of sleep so that you don’t look like shit at breakfast.” It’ll take more than the likes of him to get you to look like shit, but sure, he can flatter himself. “If I’m on an expedition or not here for some other reason, you do a basic routine regardless.” Right, like he’ll know if you skip out. Nice try. “I might have you do other bits of training at another part of the day sometimes, but for the most part, we’ll be doing the brunt of it in the morning so it doesn’t interfere with your classes and shit.” Okay, that’s fair, and you can’t find a complaint with it no matter how hard you try. “Questions?”

You open your mouth, but he doesn’t give you a chance to actually ask anything before barking out an order. “Twenty-four laps around the grounds, now.”

Twenty-four? Okay, okay, you can do this, you knew what you were signing up for. He’s going to be harsh. He’s going to wear you out. You’re not going to break. Even if it’s the crack of dawn and he’s certifiably insane.

When you start running, his eyes follow you. You briefly wonder how he’s going to keep himself entertained throughout this, but then you remember that he’s cruel and terrible, and he’ll be entertained plenty watching you suffer. Besides, you have other things to focus on besides how much fun he’s having.

The maximum amount of laps Grumman has had you run so far is twelve, and that was with everyone else, so all the cadets could feed off each other’s energy and boost morale. Right now, there’s no one with you, no one to complain to, no one to hide behind so you can spend a few seconds walking instead of running. Oh, and it’s way too early. Have you mentioned that it’s way too early?

Half way through the fifteenth lap, you drop down on your knees and start panting. You’re tired. You want to go back to sleep. Screw your plan. Screw getting revenge.

“Oi!” The lieutenant calls out from his cozy spot under the birch tree. “I didn’t say you could take a nap!”

Most all all, screw him.

You hear him approaching, but you can’t bring yourself to get up. The grass is damp against your fingers, looking like a nice and cool spot to just lie down and rest your head for a few seconds. Sure, not as nice as a regular feathery pillow, but -

He kicks you on the side. It’s not that hard, but you still hiss in pain.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him -

“Get up,” he snaps, impatient. “You’ve got nine more to go.”

Everything about him is grating, from his voice to his polished shoes to his gorgeous grey eyes. How you wish you could shut him up.

Clearly not someone who enjoys waiting, he yanks you up by your arm, letting out another tch at your murderous expression. He applies just the slightest pressure against your skin, before speaking in a tone that makes it clear he’s getting fed up.

“You’re the one who wanted to be trained. If you can’t handle a few laps, then forget about getting into the top ten.”

“I don’t want to get into the top ten,” you huff, writhing in an attempt to break free of his grasp to no avail. Why does everyone and their mother assume you’re some tryhard goody two shoes? “And even if I did, running these laps isn’t gonna get me there. So can we just leave it at fifteen?”

Lieutenant Levi pulls you in closer, until you’re nearly nose to nose with him. Your eyes widen as he tightens his hold on you, and you despise that your heart beats faster for whatever godforsaken reason. Unwillingly, you think about what it would actually feel like to be wrapped up in his arms, to have his hands on your waist, to have his lips on your -

Fuck fuck fuck. Wrong and fucked up line of thought. Focus.

“You seem to think we’re collaborating here, (L/N). Let me make it clear,” he drawls lazily, “we’re not. You’ll do what I say, no questions asked.”

“I’m going to ask questions, sir. Blind obedience isn’t good for anyone.”

“I think it’s less to do with blind obedience, and more with you wanting to be a pain in the ass.”

“Very astute of you,” you say without thinking, and his shoulders move in what might have been a laugh, but it happens so quickly you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.

“Finish the laps,” he orders, letting go of you and jerking his head, telling you to hop to it.

You glare petulantly, but start running anyways. What he doesn’t realize is he just let you have a break, no matter how short it might have been, and that’s exactly what you needed. Not so clever, this one. You take the small win and feel triumphant, even though you still have to run nine more laps and your hair is still wet and it’s still a forbidden hour for anyone to be awake at.

Once the laps are done, Lieutenant Levi allows no further time for relaxation before ordering you into thirty push-ups, which is just thirty more than your preferred amount of push-ups. The amount of fucking delight he takes in putting his foot on your back, making it just a bit harder for you to get up each time, is unbelievable. He’s a damn sadist, who thrills in your pain.

After the push-ups are finished, you have to do squats. Once the squats are finished, you move on to crunches. Then around five million side kicks, or at least that’s what it feels like. Then forward lunges. Then tricep extensions against the tree. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

How fucking long is an hour anyway?

By the time the lieutenant finally tosses you a flask of water - he throws it so quickly it almost hits your face - you’re winded, out of breath, and dizzy. Nothing hurts per se, but your body is desperately begging for you to stop, to take a break, to just sit down for a single second. You know that any second now, you’ll be back in bed, and the only obstacle to that destination besides the fear that you might collapse halfway there is this asshole of a midget in front of you. You technically can’t leave until he dismisses you, a rule that you despise with all your being.

You think that dismissal is coming when he takes the flask back and then gives you another demand.

“Ten calf raises. Just a test run. I’ll see if I can put it into your routine.”

You look at him disbelievingly for two reasons - one, because he’s actually continuing this torture and two, he’s assuming you know what the hell calf raises are.

He sighs exasperatedly and then demonstrates. It seems simple enough, it’s just standing on your tippy toes, spreading your feet out, repeating the action, spreading them out even more, and then doing it again. Three angles, just a bit of balance for a few seconds.

At this point, you’ll do whatever it takes to go back to bed.

So you start. You do three (there’s three angles, so technically nine, but who’s counting? certainly not you) and everything’s fine.

The fourth set leaves you a bit sore, but whatever.

The fifth set hurts.

The sixth set stings like a bitch.

After the seventh, you cry out in pain. It’s quiet, but mortifying.

Great, just great. The whole point of this was to pick up on his weaknesses, and here you’ve accidentally exposed your own. You freeze completely, eyes on the ground, waiting for the lieutenant to say something about how weak you’re acting.

But he doesn’t say anything, and you’re too nervous to look at him in case he catches the embarrassment playing out on your face.

Eight. Your calves are killing you, but you’re not going to cry out again. Ever.

Nine. Holy shit. Are you on fire? You think you’re on fire.

One more. You can do this. You’ve done all the others.

“Hey,” a sharp voice cuts through the air, but you pay him no mind.

You clench your fists, muster up all your strength, and push yourself up as hard as you can.

And immediately regret it.

Your legs buckle under you, and you stumble with a yelp. You didn’t mean to. It just hurt so bad, but now you’re going to be on your knees again -

Up until now, you’d seen how fast Lieutenant Levi could move because he was constantly throwing you around like a child would throw around its favorite toy. When you feel a breeze against your skin, your mind is thrown into an alarmed state for a fraction of a second. He’s coming at you, to what? Push you? You’re already falling down, so nice try, jerk, but -

It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s caught you.

With his arms hooked under yours, he lets you put your weight on him, ignoring your astonished expression. Even the blunt pain is pushed aside as you take in the fact that he stopped you from falling. Apparently you can only be knocked down when he decides you can. For the life of you, you truly cannot figure out just what this man’s deal is.

“Well, then,” Levi murmurs against your ear, “we’ll leave that one out from now on.”

____________________

Millie informs you that you look like shit over breakfast, and you tell her to kindly fuck off.

____________________

These lovely morning meetings become routine. Since you’re waking up earlier, you try your best to go to sleep earlier too, but you’re a night owl who can’t be caged, so the operation isn’t really successful there.

Instead, you try to rest any second you can during the day. While Millie, Stephen and Ricky are reading over their notes under the same birch tree that you and Lieutenant Levi meet at, you’re lying on the grass with an arm thrown over your eyes. It’s not like you need to study that hard - one doesn’t need whole hours to learn that titans are dangerous.

Besides, your arms are sore from your push-ups this morning. You usually don’t do the same thing twice in a row, apparently the lieutenant likes to switch things up. Which is just fine with you, of course, you’ve never been a fan of the same old thing every day; you joined the military to get away from the feeling that all your days were stationary and felt the same. And the whole dead dad thing, but that’s kinda secondary.

“Try putting ice on it,” Stephen offers helpfully, the only one of the three to take your complaining in stride.

“Try putting a gag in your mouth,” Millie adds.

“Try taking the stick out of your ass,” you tell her pointedly before offering a grateful smile to Stephen.

“Have you considered asking yourself if this is worth it?” Ricky tosses his notes aside and nudges your head with his knee. “Your super duper revenge plan -”

“It’s a mega super duper revenge plan.”

“Yeah, that. Is it worth exhausting yourself like this?”

Surprisingly, Stephen is the one who speaks up. “I don’t think it’s right for a superior to disrespect his subordinate and get away with it without any repercussions.”

“Look, what he did was...sketchy,” Ricky concedes, “but he’s him, y’know? Some people are good enough to act like that and get away with it.”

“No one’s good enough to act like that. Do you know how hard he runs me into the ground every single day? He’s never satisfied, not until I’m fucking collapsing. The only reason he’s stopped dumping water on me is because he says it’s a waste of resources.” You blow out a puff of air, frustrated. Why does no one understand how not okay the lieutenant’s actions are? “And he never does anything himself. I haven’t picked up any weaknesses. I have to keep going until I find one.”

“That’ll take you your entire time here.”

“So be it,” you say dramatically, before finally sitting up.

You’ll stick to it for however long it takes. There are boundaries that should never be crossed, and Lieutenant Levi’s managed to cross every single one of them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a familiar figure. It’s him, of course it’s him. It’s not enough that he disturbs your sleep, no, he has to make his presence known during the day too. Sure, maybe he’s just going about his day and not actively trying to aggravate you, but he’s still in your line of sight and he has such a punchable face.

Maybe Lieutenant Levi senses that he’s being watched, because his head turns and he catches your gaze.

You wave with a sugary smile, acting like you weren’t just fantasizing about punching his face.

Without so much as an acknowledgement, he looks away and keeps walking.

You scoff. Rude fucking midget.

____________________

The best parts of your days are undeniably after hours. Or more specifically, that small period before dinner and bedtime, when there’s nothing required of you, and you can slip away. You like leaving a bit earlier than everyone else, just to enjoy the cool night outside. It’s funny, how there are so many rules and restrictions here at the military, but a girl can still just get up and wander outside at night and no one will look at her strangely. It’s a wonderful feeling, freedom.

You’re just about to begin what’s sure to be a leisurely walk around the grounds when there’s suddenly a vice-like grip on your arm. You gasp, the first instinct to defend yourself. You raise your fist and immediately launch it, only for it to be caught rather easily.

The lieutenant rolls his eyes at your attempt to defend yourself. “I sincerely hope you never get mugged.”

If he followed you out here, that’s frankly quite creepy and he should feel ashamed of himself.

“I hope someone steals your cravat,” you mutter, and the corners of his lips twitch in amusement. “Can you let go? Sir,” you add quickly - it was becoming easier to forget that you had to refer to him properly. “I have a walk to take that doesn’t involve doing push-ups or crunches.”

His eyes are alight with cruel intentions. You hate that you still find them fascinating. “I have a training exercise for you.”

“You’re a few hours early, Lieutenant.” You give him a condescending smile. “See, 4 AM actually isn’t until much much later. It’s okay, I know telling time can be tough.”

His lips purse in displeasure, and you mentally do a small, victorious dance.

“Be that as it may, I recall telling you that your training can take place at any time that I see fit.”

“But,” you protest, stomping your foot childishly, “you also said you didn’t want to interfere with my regular training!”

He makes a point of looking to the right and then to the left and then finally back at you. “I don’t see any drills going on around here. Do you?”

If you say you do, will he let you off? Probably not, he’ll just cart you off to the infirmary and declare you mental.

“Fine,” you mutter with gritted teeth, “what is it now?”

Without answering, he turns and beckons you to follow. Like a good little obedient soldier. You fume silently, walking behind with clenched fists. First he cuts into your rightful nap time, and now into your wonderful walking time. Is there no limit to the amount of serene, private moments he plans to intrude on?

For some reason, the two of you head indoors, towards the rooms and offices. You may just be a dumb cadet, but even you’re pretty certain that none of the exercises are done in here. Is he taking you to his room? Why would he -

Wait.

Your mouth falls open, but your steps don’t falter. This is highly inappropriate. You don’t know what kind of woman Lieutenant Levi takes you to be, but you did not sign up for this. So you ask him to train you and call him sir a few times, and the man thinks you’re all good and willing, does he? That since he’s Humanity’s Strongest, he can have whoever he wants? What an insult to the name of courting. Where he finds the nerve to keep pulling stunts like these, you’ll never know.

Training your ass. This is an indecent night call. And you would never, ever -

Well.

Maybe. In a hot, scandalous kind of way that you would only ever tell Millie about. Not that you’d enjoy it, not with him. It’s more the forbidden aspect that’s attractive. It’s certainly not about the lieutenant, even with his nimble fingers and cold eyes and sharp tongue that you’re sure he could work wonders with - okay so maybe it is about him a little bit.

But it would also be delightful to turn him down. To watch the light leave his eyes (not that it was there in the first place) as you proudly tell him you respect yourself too much to sleep with a man who’s so arrogant and callous. Yeah, that’ll show him.

His fingers, though.

You’re so caught up in your little debate that you almost crash into him when he stops in front of a door. Ah, a private area. The barracks? How many members of his squad does he share a room with? You twitch uncomfortably.

“Here we are.” Even his voice sounds sultry. Or maybe it always sounds like that. Who knows.

“Why are we here, sir?” Your throat feels dry.

He turns and gives you a look that is decidedly not sexy. Rather, it seems like he thinks you’re the most idiotic person he’s ever had the unfortunate pleasure of laying his eyes on.

“You’re going to clean up in here, did you not hear me the first time?”

What?

You’re not sure what feels the most embarrassing. The fact that he’s apparently decided you’re the official Training Corp maid, or that you had actually been so comfortably considering sleeping with him that you tuned out what he was saying.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you frown. “Sir, I mean no offense -” He raises a brow, clearly ready to get offended - “but your, er, sanitary habits are pretty much known to everyone here. I doubt that I’ll be able to make your room sparkle more than it already does.”

Lieutenant Levi scoffs. “Then it’s a good thing this isn’t my room.”

He opens the door and your mouth falls open in horror.

“This is Lieutenant Hange’s lab,” he explains as he steps in, “and before you ask, I’ve already secured her permission for you to clean up.” Producing a broom out of thin air, he shoves it in your waiting hands.

“Lieutenant, I...this is…”

“Disgusting. Yeah. So better not waste any time. You need to get some sleep if you want to survive your morning drills tomorrow.”

“Lieutenant, I’m from Stohess.” Too late do you realize that you’re pleading. “I’ve never even seen a pig’s den that is as messy as this.”

Countless exercises at the crack of dawn, and this is what’s broken you. The room is horrifying. It’s straight out of any neat freak’s nightmares. You don’t know how the lieutenant even stomachs looking at it.

“Never cleaned your own room, huh? Not surprised,” he muses, and you shoot him a dirty look.

This isn’t the spoiled brat in you talking, no, this is the sane human who knows that this room is basically hell incarnate.

“How does this count as training? You just need someone to do the Survey Corps’ dirty work!”

“Is there anything you don’t complain about?” he demands, but oho, you are ready.

“Exercising I can understand. Your random bursts of physical violence - harsh, but whatever.” Not like you’re trying to get vengeance for them, but he doesn’t have to know that. “This is just work, and I want to be paid if you’re making me do work.”

This makes him snort, shaking his head at you like he’s your teacher and you’re not understanding the most basic of concepts. “You’re not a merchant, (L/N), you’re a soldier.”

“A soldier, not a servant!”

“I am ordering you to do this,” he says softly, “are you disobeying an order, Cadet?”

Well, when he puts it like that, you’d rather not get kicked out of the military before you even complete your training. And certainly not before you make the lieutenant pay with everything you have. Oh, revenge will be sweet.

Begrudgingly, you step into the lab, swallowing your nervous inhibitions. This place is a dump, you wonder how Lieutenant Hange even gets any work done in here.

Goddammit, you are never going to clean this place up, no matter how hard you try!

“Like I said, we still need you to sleep,” the he-devil murmurs behind you, “so this better be done in an hour. I’ll come check on you then.”

Oh, fuck him. You wait until he leaves, and then get to work.

____________________

His royal highness comes back an hour later just like he said he would. When he opens the door, he finds you sprawled on the floor against the wall, tired but with your chest puffed up proudly, eyes zeroed in on him to see his reaction.

The room is spotless and distinctly organized. Papers that were strewn everywhere are now in one pile next to a stack of Lieutenant Hange’s many, many journals. Vials and flasks have been placed on top of one another by the sink, where they can be quickly washed and ready for use. The tops of the desks are spotless and dust-free. The floor is not only clean, but shiny.

There’s a brief flash of surprise on Lieutenant Levi’s face as he looks back at you. You allow yourself to smirk. Sure, your arms hurt even worse than they already did and you still feel like a maid because you’ve done more cleaning in the last hour than you have in your entire life (not because you’re spoiled, just because no rooms back home are ever this messy), but it’s worth it to see that he’s impressed by you, no matter how he tries to hide it.

You don’t know why you want him to be impressed in the first place, but you decide not to question it right now.

“Not bad,” he finally relents, walking up to you. “You plan to sleep here, or are you gonna get up?”

You snort. Such a charmer, this one. Well, you’re too lazy to stand on your own, so you hold your hand up expectantly. It’s really the least he can do after being no help at all.

After giving you a long look, he takes your hand and pulls you up to your feet. Your legs feel a little wobbly, and you wryly think about how you’d figured you’d be leaving the base with wobbly legs anyway. What a ridiculous fantasy. You hate him, and he probably hates you too. You would never do anything of any sort with him.

“Go to bed,” he orders quietly, taking note of how tired you look.

“So, 5 AM tomorrow, right?”

Again, he looks dryly amused like he always does when you say things like this, as though you’re just the funniest fucking person he’s ever met. “Nice try, (L/N).”

“When do you even sleep?” you question, brows furrowed in curiosity. You’ve wondered for a while.

Lieutenant Levi shrugs. “Usually from 1 to 3.”

You blink in disbelief, shaking your head. “Sorry, what?”

“Got a problem with that?” He’s clearly not fond of where the conversation’s headed, since he grabs you by the back of your collar and pushes you forward, out of the room. You comply, but you’re not done with this line of questioning. No one can just get two hours of sleep daily and continue to function normally.

“Is this why you’re so grouchy all the time?”

“You have no respect at all,” he quips, still shoving you ahead. The base is for the most part, bare and empty, since nearly everyone’s gone to bed by now. There’s only a few people still around, and they pay the two of you no mind.

“Have you always been an insomniac?”

“Fail to see why it’s any of your business.”

“Are you trying to make me an insomniac?”

The lieutenant sucks in an exasperated breath. “No, then I’d be punishing all insomniacs.”

“Rude.”

“You’re one to talk.”

You don’t know why it’s so easy to engage in banter with him. He never discourages you, as much as he points out how unruly you are. In fact, he seems to enjoy it almost as much as you do.

And you do enjoy it, as much as you don’t want to.

“Lieutenant,” you begin hesitantly, not sure why you’re saying this, “I hear chamomile helps people go to sleep.”

“So it does,” he mutters dryly, “thanks for the observation.”

Fuck him, you were trying to be helpful.

“Are you going to walk me all the way back?” You hum thoughtfully, craftily. “People might get the wrong idea.”

At this, his footsteps stop, and you wince. God, your mouth really just runs a mile ahead of your brain at all times, doesn’t it? It won’t be satisfied until you’ve dug yourself into a hole that you just can’t get out of. Implying to Lieutenant Levi that people would think the two of you had sex is just the icing on top of the snarky cake you’ve been baking him since you got here. When you turn around, he’s looking at you with an appraising expression.

“What wrong idea will they get, Cadet?” he asks softly, grey eyes piercing through you.

Your mouth is dry. Surely he knows, does he need you to say it? Of course he does, he wants to make you uncomfortable. You can’t even blame him, this one’s all on you.

Screw it, you might as well be blunt.

“They might think we slept together.”

If he’s taken aback, he doesn’t show it. “I see. And what would you do if these rumors spread?”

You take a deep breath. “Gouge my eyes out, sir.”

This time, you can’t chalk it up to your imagination or a trick of the light. He scoffs, but he’s laughing, normally cruel lips twisted in a humorous smile. You’re surprised by how pleasant the sight is, like looking at a lily in a field of roses. Out of place, yet so very beautiful, a sight you can’t take your eyes off of. Just how does one man manage to be so fascinating? It takes a lot to make you want to swoon, especially for someone who you harbor such negative feelings for. How does he manage it so easily?

“Can’t have that.” His expression is still lit up in mirth. “You better go the rest of the way yourself.”

You salute, and turn around. Even as you walk, the image of him laughing - laughing at something you said - is burned into your mind, and it makes something in your chest clench in an all too unfamiliar way.

Maybe he watches you go, but you’re too proud to look back and check.

____________________

The air is abuzz with excitement. Everyone’s been waiting for this day. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that everyone joined the military simply so that they could do this.

This being using the ODM gear, of course. Everyone has mastered the basics by now, or they’ve dropped out. The one who stayed have perfected balancing and not falling flat on their faces, they’ve watched senior veterans use the gear, and they’ve gotten a brief example of what it feels like to be shot forward through the air. Utilizing the blades properly will eventually be taught too, but for now, they get to practice flying. Actual flying. How amazing is that?

While people usually pair off on their own, Grumman sees fit to assign pairs himself today, much to everyone’s chagrin. By some shitty luck, you’re not paired with Millie, Ricky, or Stephen. You’re not even paired with Nifa or Jack, who you’re friendly enough with.

No, you’re paired with Petra fucking Ral.

You probably wouldn’t even know or care about who Petra was if not for Millie’s incessant complaining about her. Petra is one of the few people who balanced in the gear belts perfectly on her first try (you were also in that group, but Millie’s not gonna complain about you to you), Petra is all their teachers’ favorite because of how easily she retains information, Petra doesn’t have a hair out of place even when she fights. Petra this, Petra that.

Petra is Millie’s main competition for the number one position.

Frankly, you think your best friend is projecting.

“Do you feel a bit ridiculous too?” she asks after the two of you have put your gear on.

“Just a little.” You face her and strike a pose. “Do you think the titans would appreciate some more flair?”

Petra laughs, nodding. “Some eye candy would go a long way, I’m sure.”

The two of you exchange grins, straightening to attention when the instructor passes in front of you. He looks between you and murmurs something to himself before shouting out loud for just about everybody to hear. “(L/N) and Ral will go first! All the rest of you little shits, pay attention!”

Apparently being paired with golden girl Petra Ral means that you’re supposed to be a role model or something now. You groan inwardly - it seems everyone is convinced you want to be a model cadet. When will they get it through their thick skulls that you’re not that boring?

You and your partner step apart until there’s a safe distance between you two. In front of you is a forest, a forest that is the perfect place to practice with the ODM gear. You grip the handles firmly, knees crouching a little. Excitement bubbles inside you as you tense in anticipation. This is it! This is the first step to you becoming a full-fledged soldier. You’re one step closer to everything you’ve worked for.

“On my mark! Ready, set…”

You toss your shoulders back and push your chest forward and out of the corner of your eye you see Petra do the same.

“Go.”

Whizzing sounds are heard as the two of you fire your cables at the same time. You gasp as you’re shot forward, hurtling through the air at an electrifying speed. The trees rush past you in a blur of green and brown as you go up, up, up into the sky. You let out a breathless laugh as the hooks come free. This feeling, this feeling of your stomach jumping, this nerve-wracking feeling of doing something so dangerous and so thrilling at the same time - you’ve been craving it all your life. And here you are. You’re doing it, you’re actually up in the air and you’re flying. It’s incredible. You could stay up here forever.

So enthralled are you by this experience that you forget to hook to the next target, and with an unceremonious shriek you tumble through the branches and fall on the dirt below. Some gets in your mouth, unfortunately, and you hear loud chortles behind you. You spit out the rancid soil, shooting a glare behind you when you hear another whiz.

Up above you, Petra is still in the air. She’s slowly lowering herself down, though, concern dancing in her eyes as she stumbles to a stop a few feet away from you and rushes to help you up.

“Are you okay?” She looks genuine.

You sigh. Fucking Millie, she couldn’t share your distaste for Lieutenant Levi but she found it in her to hate this girl?

“I’m alright.” You take her hand and stand up, dusting dirt off your clothes. “Just got carried away.”

Petra giggles. “You were saying something about flair, right?”

You smile wryly, beckoning for her to come closer as an idea pops into your head. “We’ve got about two minutes before Grumman sends in the next pair. I bet I can get deeper into the forest than you can.”

Her eyes shine competitively, and she nods.

And without a beat, you two are up in the air again. You’re not a natural like she is, but you sincerely doubt that she or anyone else appreciates the wind whipping through their face quite like you do. You belong up here. You can feel it. For the first time in your life, you know instantly that you’re creating a memory that you will cherish for however little time you might have left.

____________________

Your heart beats with excitement as you bounce on the heels of your feet, looking behind your shoulder nervously. “Hurry up, Ricky!”

“I’m hurrying, now be quiet, someone’s gonna hear you.”

You don’t see how. No one is wandering around the kitchens right now. The cooks who prepare the food left their stations ages ago, and no one else in the base would have any reason to be wandering down here. Normally, you wouldn’t have any reason either, but today is a bit of a special day. Or more accurately, it’s a precursor to a special day. The day after tomorrow will mark the Survey Corps’ next expedition and as always, the cooks are preparing something special for the heroes and fools. An energizer for some, and a last meal for others. While you know that the lowly cadets haven’t done anything heroic - yet - you and Ricky agreed that some pastries would surely make everyone happy. Just a few measly sweet tarts, the Scouts wouldn’t miss them. You didn’t lay a hand on the meat, knowing fully well that most of the people going out in two days would savor it much more than you would.

Ricky is quickly shoving the tarts into a pouch, taking his sweet time counting so that everyone got the same amount. Fucking outer city peasant, concerned with fairness. You sigh impatiently, bouncing on your feet. You’re hungry. The bread at dinner seemed even more stale than usual today.

“Hey, what are you two doing?”

Your eyes widen at the same time as Ricky’s - why in the holy hells is the head chef still here? Does he sleep here? Before you can consider the disturbing implications of that possibility, you’re grabbing Ricky’s arm and running for all you’re worth. You’re counting on the fact that it’s dark in the kitchens, so hopefully he didn’t see your face. Unfortunately, the chef seems intent on finding out who broke into his precious kitchen, because he clambers on out after you.

After running for two minutes, he shows no sign of stopping.

“S-split up,” Ricky pants, wheezing as you two flee.

“Fine,” you huff, a bit proud of the fact that you’ve got more tolerance than he does, “but I want leverage.”

Without waiting for him to respond, you snatch a pastry from the top of the bag and skid to the hallway on the right while Ricky keeps running forward. The chef chooses to chase him, and you cackle maniacally at your friend’s terrible luck. You’re home free, and you have your dessert as a trophy too.

You turn your head to double check, turn back, and then crash face first into someone’s chest.

Rough hands grip your wrists to catch and steady you, and when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you want to scream.

Why is he everywhere?

Lieutenant Levi’s gaze goes from the tart in your hand to your panicked expression, and he understands what’s going on without any need for an explanation from you. He takes a step closer to you, tugging you firmly so you can’t move back. You swallow nervously, stuttering out apologies for crashing into him and for being up past curfew. He listens to you ramble, but doesn’t let go. His eyes flicker to the pastry again.

“Those are for the Scouts,” he murmurs lowly. Is it your stupid imagination again or does his voice sound more husky than usual? “Not for fucking brats, (L/N).”

Normally you’d answer with some witty comeback, but you’re feeling a bit dizzy with how close he is and how hungrily his stormy eyes are watching you. The most you can do is open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. You’re in deep shit now, you know that much.

Without removing his piercing gaze from your face, he lowers his head a bit, and takes a bite out of the tart in your hand.

You could swear your heart stops beating for a second. His grip on your wrists suddenly feels like it’s hard enough to make them bruise, even though you can tell he’s not holding on that tight. You watch him chew, swallow, and then lick his lips, all without looking away for even a second. It’s mesmerizing. Before you can tell what you’re doing, you raise the tart a bit, and let him take another bite. As though you’re fucking feeding him, like a good fucking girl. The lieutenant’s lips curl into a small smirk, and you think you’re going to drop on the spot when he takes a third bite, finishing the pastry, the tip of his tongue just brushing against your index finger.

You wonder if he can hear just how erratically your heart is pounding.

Levi’s close, too close. You don’t know what to do, how to break his scrutiny of your face, or if you even want to. He leans in, just a little. Your breath gets caught in your throat. When did you forget how to breathe? It should be easy. Suck in air, let it out, repeat.

He tilts his head a millimeter.

You sigh in anticipation, lean forward, and…

He turns away at the last second, and your lips meet his cheek.

Fuck.

You gasp against his skin, not moving. From his amused expression, he can tell that your face is burning up. Somehow, he’s managed to embarrass you again, even if this instance isn’t public and doesn’t end with you in pain. This feels worse than all the other times, though. Before, you were simply thrown around, his way of calling you weak. Physically weak. Not strong enough, a rookie. But this, this is him telling you that he knows he lords some power over you, something that transcends his rank. Something personal.

“Thanks for the snack,” he says, stepping back only a little (see: not enough) to cup your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Now hurry to bed before I decide I want more.”

Heat pools from your stomach right down to your core. If possible, your cheeks grow even hotter.

The lieutenant lets go and turns around, leaving you standing there with a wide-eyed expression, feeling strangely empty as you watch him go.

You’re never going to let him catch you breaking curfew again.

If you’ve never done calf raises before, I do not recommend, they genuinely will leave you sore for a bit if you’re not used to them. But otherwise, yay for exercise I guess.

Reader is very cocky but we love her for it.

We don’t have Petra slander here, folks. I adore her. Millie doesn’t, though. Rip.

Let me know what you think!

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - When Lovely meets Angel

Summary: When the boyfriends are away, their partners try their best to be functioning members of society. Spoiler alert: they failed. 

Tw: [Mentions of Adam], [Profanity] and [Very, very brief mention of drugs. Like, half a sentence]

I shared this oneshot in the Discord server and I thought to share it here too before uploading it on AO3 later this weekend. 

-

You smile as your eyes do their best to track Vincent’s every move. Your head spins as your boyfriend flits from one room to another, never pausing for even a second. His duffel bag is lying beside you on the couch, gradually full of clothes, toiletries and other travelling necessities as he chucks them in Mach speed. 

You pick up the clothes that didn’t make it into the bag. You fold them nicely before placing them in with the rest. 

“Alright, I’ve stocked up the pantry to last at least for a few weeks, b-but I’ll be back by Sunday so don’t worry.” The blur that was Vincent said as he ran from their shared bedroom to the kitchen. With a fond shake of your head, you observe the Vampire made one last round. 

Letting Vincent fuss is your way of helping him calm down. And sure enough, it only takes a few minutes until your boyfriend is satisfied with the apartment - from the wards that he erected to the well-stocked kitchen and rows of laundry detergents. With the way he prepared for his departure, you couldn’t help but want to remind Vincent that he’ll only be leaving for three days; not three months. 

“Do you have Alexis’ number, Lovely? Sam’s?” Vincent asks - again - in concern as he pad towards you and the duffel bag. “Hang on, I’ll forward them to you now -” 

You grab his hand before he could reach for his phone and force him to sit beside you on the couch. You peck him on the cheek to startle him. No matter how many times you’ve done this; Vincent always reacts the same. Startled with a tinge of red dusting his pale cheeks. A simple kiss is enough to leave him speechless and it never fails to make your heart skip a beat at how precious he is. 

“Yes, you gave them to me this morning. I have their numbers on speed dial for any emergency of the Adam kind.” You easily assure him, only to backtrack quickly when you see how wide his eyes went. Oh yikes, bad move! Bad move! “N-Not that there will be any problem! Haha! I mean, you’re only going away with Will for three days, right? I can hold the fort, don’t worry!” 

Vincent bit his lower lip, still hesitant. “I wish I didn’t have to go, Lovely. It hurts to be away from you…” His head tilts down and holds your hand tight, yet always mindful of his Supernatural strength. “Sometimes… sometimes I could still see you in Adam’s arms, so pale and sick… your blood on his mouth - ”

“Hey, hey, Vince? Look at me please.” You gently tilt his chin using your hand that wasn’t captured by your worrisome boyfriend. You made sure to properly look him in the eyes before smiling softly. “You got me in time and for that? I’m forever grateful, but that’s in the past, OK? I’m here now with you! We both have been making good progress at D.A.M.N so that has to count for something, yeah? We’re both stronger than we were before.” 

That earns a tiny smile from Vincent and you mentally cheer in victory. “You always know what to say, huh, Lovely? And yeah, we’re pretty badass now, huh? A Vampire and an Electro Energetic? We’ll conquer this city in less than a month.” He joked. 

You try to picture it: you and Vincent - the King and Queen of Dahlia. The first thing you would do is declare PJ Friday - where everyone must wear PJs every Friday and those that wear the silliest PJs get brownie points. Collect enough of them and they’ll get a free meal in the most expensive restaurant Dahlia has to offer. Vincent can handle the boring stuff like, governing and health care. 

...Now that’s a thought; Vincent as a politician. 

Ah wait - Will would probably be disappointed in them if they tried to do a hostile takeover of this city and you couldn’t bear to disappoint him. After all, no one can pull off the perfect sad dad look other than Vincent’s Sire. Not even your own dad! 

“ - Lovely? Uh, Earth to Lovely? You there?” 

Vincent’s warm voice broke you off from your mad train of thoughts. You flash a sheepish grin when he realised that you haven’t paid a single word he said. Vincent wants to appear annoyed but his lips are twitching, as if he’s holding back from laughing at the dumbfounded expression on your face. 

“Sorry, babe. I spaced out because Will was disappointed in us.”  

“...What? Will? Lovely, what the - ”

“Anyway, don’t worry about me.” You quickly interject before you have to explain yourself. “You got me food, Alexis’ and Sam’s numbers are on my speed dial and my powers have been growing nicely over the last few classes. I got this; you got this.” To seal the deal you added, “And I promise to call you twice a day; in the morning and before I go to bed. Sounds good?” 

That finally assured Vincent. The tension melts away from his taunt shoulders and when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet. You would’ve loved to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him on top of you and turn this into something more, but Will would surely call him if Vincent is late. 

Vincent moans when you pull away; disappointed and slightly frustrated. “Easy there, Vince. I’ll make sure to give you a very warm welcome when you get back.” You purr, loving how his eyes lid at your promise. 

But alas, as much as you love to drag Vincent to the bedroom, work comes first. So you allow Vincent to fuss around a little more before he slings the duffel bag over one shoulder, kisses you goodbye and leaves. 

Now, you planned this. You have a whole itinerary in your head for the days that Vincent is on a business trip with the King of the Solaire Clan. Assignments that need to be done, Despacito to learn on the piano (neither of them knew why Alexis dropped off an upright piano in their apartment on a random ass Wednesday night and when asked, she just cackled before pulling off a Batman and vanished into the night. So Vincent gave up trying to pester the answer out of her. You still think it’s some sort of an elaborate prank), boba pizza to cook for dinner tomorrow and a list of video games to pre-order so really, you would be so busy for the upcoming days that you wouldn’t even have the time to miss Vincent. 

If you repeat that long enough, you hope that’ll become true. 

Glancing at the clock hanging on the living room wall, you sigh at the time.10.30 PM. A little early to get ready for bed but hey, it’s not like there’s anything else that you want to do now. 

With little fanfare, you make sure that the apartment is locked and secure, switch off the lights before heading to the bedroom for your nightly ablutions.

-

Ok, that part about the itinerary? Yeah, that’s completely out of the window the moment you wake up missing Vincent’s arms around you. 

The gentle and warm sun rays pierce through the sheer curtains, promising a bright day ahead of you, but all you could think about is the space in this bedroom. Was the bed always this big? Was the bedroom always this quiet? Those questions rattled in your brain and it really doesn’t help that you can smell Vincent’s faint cologne lingered on the pillows. Soothing vanilla that never fails to clear your mind as opposed to sandalwood and bergamot. Vincent once claimed that the scent is too fancy for someone like him. 

Right now though? His cologne sends a pang of longing in your heart in his absence, and it’s only the first day! 

“I can’t stay here.” You decided out loud when the tangle of sleepiness ebbed away. Kicking the thick duvet off your body, you stomp to the bathroom to shower, dress up and quickly leave the apartment with nothing but your phone and backpack. 

You didn’t want to return to an empty apartment, so what better than walking around the city to distract yourself? Grab some breakfast at a new cafe, maybe do some window shopping afterwards… yeah, that sounds way better than anything you’ve planned before. 

Joggers pass you by as you walk through the park and the city slowly comes back to life. People are out and about, going through their monotonous day. Some are catching the bus, others are like her, eager to find something to eat. 

You recall that your classmate mentioned that they and someone named Damien found a Taiwanese bakery/cafe that recently opened up near the city’s library; a quaint little shop, squeezed between a hardware shop and a health & beauty care chain store. You can still remember how their eyes lit up as they excitedly described the brioche and the strawberry tiramisu they ate with vivid details. 

So that’s where you’re headed off to now. 

Apparently, the bakery is closer than you thought when you cut corners and jump through the shortcuts. Being born and raised here in Dahlia like so many others, you knew this city like the back of your hand. Though the existence of Shifters, Vampires, Daemons and more were a slap in the face to you.

Oh, that reminds you, be sure to ask Vincent if the Vampires have anything similar to Fangtasia here in this city. 

The bell above the door chimes when you enter the bakery. The sign outside says ‘OPEN’ but since it’s still quite early in the morning, you and a couple sitting at a table near the corner are the only customers currently. Manning behind the cashier is a young woman and her co-worker setting up freshly baked goods behind the display glass. 

You made a beeline to the counter. 

“Good morning. Uh, can I please have one sea salt coffee - regular size - one red bean mooncake and, umm…” You paused to scan the menu laid before you. “And a marble taro.” 

There. That's sort of a healthy breakfast, right? 

The young woman hardly bats an eye at your order. She drawl out the total amount of your food and drink to which you hand her some cash before choosing a table beside the large window so you could see the city and her people go about their lives. The scent of freshly baked pastries, hot chocolates and brewed coffees wash over you pleasantly. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if Vincent would love this place as much as you do… 

The cashier came over with a tray of your order before your musing could spiral down further. You thank her, snap a picture of your food and coffee for Vincent before enjoying your breakfast. It’s a perfect morning, well, almost a perfect morning… 

Halfway through your coffee, your phone vibrates. Vincent had texted back: 

‘Looks delish, Lovely! Make sure to finish your meal, OK? My flight was a nightmare - I’ll spare you the details - but Will and I reached the airport safely. I’ll call you soon, Lovely. I love you, always.’ 

Vincent’s text helps to fill his absence, somewhat. You polish off the last bit of your coffee and exhale loudly; there’s no use moping around. Adventure awaits! After all, there’s never a dull day here in Dahlia. For all you know, something is right around the corner just for you! 

Tummy warm and full, you bask in the morning light for a few more minutes before exiting the bakery. 

...And promptly collide with a walking furnace. Because seriously, the moment your chest hits them, it feels as if their body heat lunges at you.

“Ow!” You fell and landed hard on your ass. Whoever had the misfortune to collide against you, they were a tad taller and seemed to be in a rush to be able to hit you with an impact. 

“Oh fuck! I’m so so sorry! Are you alright!? I ran too fast because I always missed out on their marble taros! Oh gosh, oh gosh; can you hear me? Shit, I really hope I didn’t hurt you too badly…” The stranger rambled worriedly. 

“I-I’m fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.” You assured them and gladly grabbed the offered hand. They gently pull you up from the pavement. 

“You sure? I can take you to the hospital right now if you want!” They pressed on, eyes checking for any sign of injuries on your body. “Just after I buy my pastries though.” 

You didn’t expect the blatant honesty; the idea that some loaves of bread are this person's top priorities crack you up. You couldn’t help it, so you burst out a giggle. 

“I’m good, I’m good; don’t worry.” You hiccup and wipe a stray tear from the corner of your right eye. You can’t believe this. “Go get your bread and oh, for the record? I totally get why you rush here. Their marble taro is really something else. You better hurry up; I heard the cashier said they’ll be making the last batch for the day.”

You smirk when the walking furnace’s eyes widen in horror. They darted into the bakery without a single word. The bell chimes loudly when they rush to yank the door and scramble towards the counter.

Just for the fuck of it, you lean against the window and decide to wait. Snippets of frantic conversation can be heard inside and it wasn’t long before the bell tinkle once more. 

The stranger that bumped into you pout, clutching a huge paper bag of pastries close to their chest as if they feared you would snatch it. “You lied.” 

“Shocker, I know.” You tease and then you feel your blood froze despite the warm morning. You suddenly recalled where and from whom you heard those words before and quickly stomped the image out of your head. 

“Uh, dude? Are you sure you’re alright? You look super pale.” The stranger narrowed their eyes on you. Despite the blatant concern on their face and how genuinely friendly and cheerful their voice is, you get the feeling that they’re trying to pull you apart by the seams to see if you would lie or not. 

So you opt for the honest option. “I will be.” You assured them. “Just some… bad memories pop up.” 

“Huh, well that sucks.” They glance at the bag of pastries for a moment, silent and contemplating. They then thrust it practically in your face before you could do so much as flinch. “You want some? Food always helps me feel good when I’m sad.” 

The loaves of bread smelled really good but for the second time, you giggled. “No, no, I’m full. Thank you though; that’s very kind of you to offer.” 

“It’s only the right thing to do.” They reply with an easy shrug. You get the feeling that the stranger’s kindness is something remarkable. “The name is -” 

Across the street, a truck driver pressed the horn when the car in front of him refused to budge despite the traffic lights having switched from red to green for ten minutes now.

“ - but you can call me Angel; all my friends do. Now that we’ve bumped into one another, your destiny just altered. Our fates will forever be intertwined once you give me your name.” 

Oh, you like where this is going.

“I’m - ” The driver in front of the truck kicked open his door and proceeded to shout at the truck driver. A line of cars gradually formed behind the vehicle and horns began to blare as a brawl broke out in the middle of the road. “ - nice to meet you!” 

“A lovely name…” Here your new friend - Angel - trailed off, their eyes appraising your body. “For a lovely soul. Lovely. Huh. Can I call you that?” 

Gorgeous, brimming with moxie mix with a spoonful of friendly flirting? Oh, you like them more and more by the second. 

Also, you idly wondered if there’s some weird magic attached to your name or else this is going to be a pattern every time you introduce yourself. 

“Sure.” You answered, and the two of you shook hands. 

“Say… who do you think would win? Godzilla or King Kong?” 

“Psh, is that even a question? Godzilla, obviously. He’s the king of monsters for a reason! And grandpa got his Atomic Breath; what does Kong even have?” 

“You. I like you. I have a feeling that this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.” 

When there’s no escaping from Angel’s octopus arm of love and friendship around your shoulders, you let yourself be swept away. 

-

“So you’re an Electro Energetic?” 

“Yup.” 

“Got any plans on what you’re going to be in the future?” 

“To shed my mortal body and transform into King Ghidorah.”

“...Can I be the left head?”

“I was hoping you’d ask that. We need the right head, though.” 

“I’ll give my friend a call; they’re a Freelancer studying at D.A.M.N too. Maybe you’ve seen them around?”

-

“Wait - you said your boyfriend is a Vampire?”

“He’s more of a dork than a Vampire, but yeah.”

“Cool, cool. Hey, my boyfriend is a Werewolf. Do you know what this means?” 

“...Twilight marathon?” 

“Twilight marathon! We have to do it. Let’s go, Lovely; you’re going to crash at my place for the best movie night of your life!” 

“I’ll grab some food and drinks from my place. Will be there in twenty minutes.” 

-

“This is the third time I’ve watched these movies and I think they just got worse over the years.” You complained, chugging down your fourth can of Red Bull. You don’t drink, so you wondered if this is how it feels like to slowly go drunk. Or high. 

You’re in your sleep wear - a simple black shorts and one of Vincent’s t-shirts. Exhausted, stomach bloated with snacks; you feel like shit. Your body is seconds away from saying fuck it and crash down. 

And yet you’ve never felt so alive before. 

The time on your phone says it's 3.23 AM; you and Angel slough through the first two movies and now finally, the end credits for Eclipse roll down on the TV screen. Angel lives with their boyfriend - who was on a business trip, coincidentally - in a very homely apartment. When you first entered, you could tell just what sort of couple they are. 

The place looks as if a small tornado tried to turn the apartment upside down but was fended off just barely - little knick knacks such as rainbow beaded bracelets were carelessly thrown on the kitchen counter behind a microwave, a crop top with printed bongo cats floating within a glittered galaxy is drape over a dining chair, three heart-shaped balloons knock against one another from the living room’s ceiling and for some reason, the USB stereo is on the floor playing Black Pink’s Pretty Savage. 

The other half of the apartment - the more organised side - are filled with neatly shelved books of all genres, an untouched bowl of fruits are on the coffee table and most of the expensive-looking dishes and silverwares are displayed behind a glass cabinet. Those were probably gifts from family and friends. 

You spend an entire day here, engaging in stupid but fun conversations with Angel, painted each others’ nails and even shop online for the sluttiest outfit that you two could find just for the hell of it before binge-watching the entire Twilight series. 

Unlike you, however, Angel is buzzing around like a hyperactive bunny on crackhead energy. Halfway through New Moon, she busted out stacks of colourful sticky notes, some thumbtacks and a huge yarn ball. You watch with utter fascination as they begin to furiously write down every little thing about the Vampires and Werewolves representations from the movies to your and their boyfriend. 

It’s 3.25 AM now. The entire living room wall looks like an abstract form of an art piece, made of common stationeries. 

Hair in a messy bun, a stick of strawberry pocky dangling from their lips like a lit cigarette, a black sharpie in one hand and dressed in black cat onesie, Angel tapped on the piece of red sticky note that wrote ‘culture appropriation or nah?’

“So what have we learned so far?” 

“Vampires don't sparkle.” You immediately piped up and this time, cracked open a can of black coffee. A brand name from Japan, but the bitter tang immediately zolt your already fried nerves to maximum level. You love it. “Period.” 

“Noted! Now, does this make Stephenie Meyer racist!?” 

You actually had to pause and consider that. “Will need to get you back on that one.” 

Angel hurried to scribble ‘remind Lovely for feedback’ inside the same note. “Very well. We shall move on to the Werewolves.” They start to list down the characteristics of the Werewolves portrayed in the movies and then compare them to their boyfriend; but the thing is, they didn’t realise that they verbally list down the quirks of their Shifter lover instead. 

You find it cute that Angel rambled on and on about someone named Davey, so you didn’t interrupt them. Hell, you’d be the same with Vincent. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you got sidetracked from comparing your lovers to spilling the tea about your relationships. 

“After we first slept together, I said to Davey, “Thanks for the sex, bro” complete with a peace sign and a wink. He got so mad that he refused to let me off the bed until I promised to stay.” Angel laughs fondly. They tear open a bag of Cheetos Puffs and throw one into your open mouth. The two of you celebrate with a high-five. 

“Vince freaked out when I told him he was my first.” You chewed, swallowed and washed the after taste of the junk food with even more coffee. Who needs sleep when you could reach divinity with cans of Red Bulls, Kirin Fire coffees and junk foods. “He was extra sweet to me the next day as if he was trying to make up for how rough he was. You could totally see how precious he is from Pluto.” 

“That’s so cute!” Angel cooed. “You’ve landed the golden D, dude. Congrats.” 

“Sounds like you’re the same. To us!” 

You clink your can of coffee with Angel’s bottle of Mountain Dew. 

Eventually, the night made way to the rising sun and the final scene of Breaking Dawn came to a close. The living room is a total mess - blankets and pillows are strewn all over the floor, empty bags of chips, cans and bottles are underneath the coffee table and you swore that one rolled underneath the couch and the wall is still a sad, modern version of cubism with strings. 

“So…” You tilt your head to stare at a wide-eyed Angel, still buzzing with energy. “Want to play Mario Kart? Loser has to let the winner dress them for the day.” 

“You’re on! I hope you like crop tops” 

-

Vincent couldn’t stop bouncing his leg. The airport is bustling with people rushing for their early morning flights despite dawn barely peeking from the horizon. Like most of the humans around them, Vincent and Will are waiting for their boarding gate to open. 

Speaking of Will, he had wandered off to inquire about their time of arrival to one of the help counters somewhere near the vending machines that they passed. 

These past three days felt like three years without Lovely at his side. Vincent was an idiot to think that a few simple phone calls were enough to chase the yearning of his undead heart for his lover. His sweet and strong, Lovely. 

How are they right now? Judging from the different time zones, Vincent reckoned that it’s nearly midnight where the city of Dahlia is right now. Is Lovely getting ready for bed? What did they have for dinner? How was their day? 

An amused chuckle startled Vincent from his musing. “Oh Vincent, did your phone somehow insult you? You’ve been glaring at it for at least five minutes since I’ve returned.” 

“G-Geez! Don’t sneak up on me like that, old man.” Vincent mumbled, he nearly dropped his phone from his Sire’s sudden and silent appearance. 

“Apologies. Perhaps you should give them a call?” Will suggested as he took a seat beside him. He offers a warm, knowing smile at Vincent’s confused expression. “You wore a lovelorn expression when you stared at your phone. Do us both a favour and call your Lovely, hmm?” 

“...I shouldn’t. They’re probably sleeping - ”

“Maybe. Or maybe not. For all you know, they might still be up, waiting for you to call them.” 

Vincent gave in. He desperately needed to hear Lovely's voice. Besides, their sleepy whines are so adorable and he misses them terribly. 

Will occupied himself with a John Grisham book while Vincent pressed familiar numbers and held his phone up to his ear. Lovely answered in less than a minute. 

“Hey, Lovely.” Vincent greets, feeling the uneasiness and longing untangled themselves from his chest. He can’t wait to return home and have them in his arms again. The next time he has to go on a business trip again, he’ll bring Lovely along. If Will has a problem with it, he could take Alexis. “Sorry for calling you again so late at night. I… I just need to hear your voice again. Anyway, are you on the bed - ”

“Oh my god, did you just throw your underwear at me!?” 

“Uh, Lovely?” 

Vincent immediately pull the phone away when his ear is assaulted by a cacophony of K-pop music blaring in the background, accompanied by an obnoxious laugh of glee and Lovely’s mutterings of “That slut is going to get it now”, “300% sugar in your boba tea? Dude, just do cocaine instead!” and “Oh, Dilf alert! He has a French accent too? A solid 8/10 from me, definitely.” 

Beside him, Will snorts. He happily ignores the glare Vincent threw at him and flips a page. 

But for a brief, crazy moment, Vincent was struck with fear at the thought of his lover harbouring a secret crush on his Sire. He still remembers how freely Lovely blush and giggle whenever Will was around.

“Lovely? Is everything alright?” Vincent tries again, straining to hear through the music and someone’s chattering. Who is with his Lovely past midnight? He starts to worry and feel… a little uncomfortable. 

“Vincent? What’s up, baby? You don’t usually call me so late.” Lovely reply, sounding a bit distracted. Suddenly, Vincent heard a crash, followed by a, “It’s not broken! It’s all good!” 

“Where are you? What’s going on? Are you at a party?” Vincent didn’t demand, he inquired as firmly as possible. Flashes of his Lovely dancing at a club or hanging out with some faceless man and woman keep popping in his mind. It stirs his bloodlust. 

Will idly pat his hand to calm Vincent down, eyes still glued to his book. 

“I’m at home; had a friend over for the night. The apartment is just… too quiet without you.” 

Lovely’s easy and genuine admittance settled something feral inside of Vincent. He guessed that his lover and their friend must be having a sleepover. 

“I’m sorry that I had to leave, Lovely.” Vincent murmurs. “Will and I are at the airport right now. We should be boarding in thirty minutes.” Here, he paused and continued in a quieter tone, “I’ve missed you so much, Lovely. I’ve left my heart with you and… well, it’s just not the same without you.”

“See!? Prime example of a golden D there, Lovely!” Someone - Vincent assumed is his lover’s friend - shriek in the background. 

Their sudden shriek didn’t surprise him. What did, however, was another, stranger’s voice joining in their conversation. 

From a couple of seats, right in front of Vincent. Right here in the airport. 

“Don’t shriek into the phone, Angel! Are you trying to make me go deaf in one ear!?” 

The man - no, Shifter, grumbled. Vincent could smell the scent of lush forest and dirt around him; a Werewolf, then. But his nature wasn’t the reason why Vincent’s jaw is hanging open. 

Will, who had given up the pretence of reading his book, couldn’t hold himself back from grinning widely. He already connected the dots, unlike Vincent. “Oh my, isn’t that Alpha Shaw? He must be on a business trip as well! What a small world.” 

Luckily Vincent was clutching his phone tightly or not he would’ve dropped it in shock. Alpha Shaw? No way… David Shaw!? The Alpha of the Werewolf’s pack in Dahlia!? What the fuck - 

“Turn down the volume, Angel, before the neighbours call the police!” Lovely shouted back. 

In front of him, Vincent and Will watch the impressive scowl on David Shaw’s - the Werewolf King of Dahlia, himself - face. “Uh, excuse me? The fuck? It’s way past midnight, Angel. Where are you; who are you with?” 

“Looks like your lover made a new friend.” Will said in mock-whisper. Even though both of them knew full well that the Shifter wouldn’t be able to hear them from where they are in his human form. “I have a feeling that the Shaw pack and the Solaire clan will be closely in touch in the coming days.” 

Vincent shakes his head; truly, his Lovely is something else. Without hesitation, the Vampire Prince got up to introduce himself to the annoyed Werewolf. He didn’t take it personally when the Shifter shot him a glare for interrupting his phone call. If looks could kill, well, let’s just say that Vincent is thankful that being a Vampire means that he’s not about to be a Werewolf’s chew toy anytime soon. 

“Hi. I’m Vincent Solaire - yes, you heard that right - and before you ask, I’m pretty sure our lovers are currently hanging out at my place right now.” 

That got the Alpha to do a wonderful imitation of a statue. He wouldn’t look out of place at the Louvre, Vincent thought.

David exhales loudly - as if he damn close to being done with everything that this world has to offer - before addressing his lover on the other side of the phone. “The things you got yourself into, you damn troublemaker.” No doubt that David probably isn’t too keen to know that his mate is friends with a Vampire’s lover, but Will has a knack for turning enemies to allies; he’ll let his Sire deal with the politics once they get back to Dahlia. 

“You love me!” Angel smugly replied. “Oh and guess what? We binge watched the entire Twilight movie series and we got some questions!” 

“And uh, just a heads up.” Lovely’s voice hesitantly chimes through Vincent’s phone. “We haven’t slept since you guys left. I mean, I slept the day you left Vince, but, uh...” 

Vincent winces and politely ignores David’s flow of cursing under his breath. 

They left home for only three days, surely their apartments are still standing and their lovers aren’t drunk, high or planning to commit anarchy!

...Right? 

[hoe-kkotsu]

No Promises Inumaki x Reader

Premise: Reader goes out of their way to get Inumaki to speak by annoying him to the ends of the earth

Genre: Smut, Kinda fluffy end

Word Count: 6k oops

Warnings: none

a/n: smut is about halfway through if you wanna skip, also feel free to notify me if you notice any issues !!

“Get fucked” was the first thing you ever heard him say. At least the first normal thing you heard him say. The silence that fell through the room as everyone stared in disbelief was terrifying. Inumaki’s scowl perfectly juxtaposed your own expression, sweet with victory.

“Does that count as a curse?”

-

Since your family was involved with the school you had grown up near it and were well acquainted with both students and staff. A blonde boy caught your eye during his second year, barely any older than you but you were too scared to introduce yourself anyway. It was his third year when you were finally forced into interacting with him and you quickly became confused by the way he spoke. “Cat got your tongue?” you asked. 

“tuna.”

“Oh my bad, tuna got your tongue then?” he didn’t respond. You knew him to be a nice guy from your interactions with his schoolmates but they failed to mention his speaking quirk. 

You learned from your dear friend Maki that his name was Inumaki and that was just the way he spoke, “Don’t let it bother you,” she advised, “you’ll get used to it, he’s a nice kid.” You tried, but the more you were faced with him in the next months the more it bothered you.

-

While you were hanging around Maki’s room late one night he somehow came up in the conversation “He has his reasons why does it still bother you?” Maki asked from her bed while you sat facing her on her floor

“Everyone says he used to speak! I just wanna hear him say something normal” you whined. 

“What do you like him or something?” maki sarcastically snickered. It wasn’t the first time she suggested it. You stood up.

“Absolutely not! It just feels like some sort of game I have to beat,” you knew how awkward you sounded but still you defended yourself.

“I know, I know calm down” she laughed.

You decide it’s best to change the subject, “Whatever. It’s getting cold can you turn the heat on?” Even in the cold season, you’d still wear a tank top and shorts to sleep, you weren’t going to change that just because you were sleeping at Maki’s for the night.

“Nah the AC is broken, go borrow some pajamas from Megumi or something” Your friendship with Maki led you to being well acquainted with Fushiguro so even though you preferred not to bother him you felt comfortable enough asking him this favor. 

You left Maki’s room and tip-toed down the corridor so as not to wake anyone, but as fate would have it you encountered Sir Riceball himself, donning nothing but grey sweatpants and towel-drying his hair. This was the first time you’d ever seen him without that ridiculous uniform collar covering half his face, and most certainly the first time you’d seen this much skin from him. The blood ran straight to your face and in your surprise you tripped and fell to the floor, quickly alerting him to your presence. 

He helped you up without a second thought.

“Thanks” was all you could manage to say while avoiding his eyes.

“Shake shake” he responded. You could feel his eyes scan you and it felt like you were ten times more exposed than you were already. He let go of your hand and motioned to a clock with an inquisitive look on his face.

You tried to guess what he was asking, “What time is it?” he shook his head no and pointed to you then to the window revealing the night sky. “Why am I here so late?” you continued your attempt to decipher what he was trying to say and luckily he nodded to signal you were correct. “I was helping Maki with something and it got pretty late so I figured I’d crash on her floor tonight,” he tilted his head, “Oh! I got cold and her heats busted so I was gonna go ask Fushiguro to lend me some pajamas!” he cracked a small smile, of course you were cold dressed like that, it’s freezing out. But for some reason, your answer bothered him. He didn’t want Megumi to see you like that- the way the shorts hugged your hips and the cold breeze caused your nipples to peek through the tank top- yeah that wasn’t gonna happen.

He muttered something about bonito flakes and grabbed your hand to pull you towards his room. His actions surprised you but you had no reason not to trust him so you complied. In his room he fished out some fuzzy pants and a big t-shirt and tossed them to you, “Wait can I borrow these?” you asked and he rolled his eyes. Why would he have thrown them to you if not for you to borrow? 

“Shake shake,” he nodded and you smiled at him causing him to blush ever so slightly. He turned his head before you could notice. What he did not expect you to do was to turn around and start changing in front of him. Just the sight of your bare back caused him to strain in his sweatpants. The shirt was big enough that it covered your ass when you pulled your shorts off, he wasn’t sure if he should thank god or curse him for blocking the view. 

Once you were dressed you turned around to thank him again. You hugged his side without thinking and offered your thanks. He looked surprised but only momentarily. He looked like he was about to say something before offering just another “Shake shake” and you frowned.

“Just one word? Cant, you just say one word to me?” your tone bordered on begging but he shook his head and you sighed. “Whatever man, goodnight I guess.” left his room to head back to Maki’s.

He would be upset at the way you left if he wasn’t preoccupied with the thought of you in such little clothes, the way your midriff peaked out, and the way your chest perked in the cold. Not to mention the sight of your thighs could cure diseases and the curve of your back changing into his shirt drove him mad. The thing that truly set him off though was how your chest pressed against him while you quickly hugged him. His hand was in his pants less than a minute after you shut the door. He thanked the universe that you had not made it to Megumi, he got angry just thinking about his friend seeing you like that instead of him. Why did that have to bother him so much?

-

You pointedly avoided him whenever you were at the school for the next three or so months. After you made Maki return his clothes for you he knew something was up but he never got the chance to talk to you about it, after all, it’s not like he would even really talk. Were you that mad about him not speaking normally to you? 

No, you were embarrassed, you couldn’t look at him without seeing the barely dressed version of himself from that night and you were not willing to risk going red in the face just by being near him. Not a chance. 

It felt like years before you were comfortable being close to him again but considering the frequency at which you were around the school, it’s not like you could avoid him forever. You would only ever dare be near him in a group setting though.

——

One night after a particularly calm week you, Maki, and some school mates were hanging around in Yuuji’s room. The atmosphere had been tense ever since Inumaki showed up but eventually lightened up. Though, when he responded to one of Yuuji’s jokes with a simple “Salmon Roe” you got ticked off. 

“Dude just fuckin talk for once,” you snapped, and the tension was once again as thick as could be. No one ever asked but people noticed the way you were suddenly avoidant of Inumaki and they were all too curious to see the culmination of it. 

Inumaki rolled his eyes and offered no response which only served to irk you more.

“You’re gonna fuckin talk. I don’t care what it takes I’m gonna make you somehow” you stared at him before scanning the room around you. You huffed, realizing you made it horrible awkward, and left the room without another word. 

It took two weeks for you to even dare show up at their school again. 

——

When you return it became Inumaki’s personal hell. You used any and every tactic to try to make him talk and spared him no mercy. He refused to budge though, dead set on winning this unofficial competition that you’re both locked in.

It went on like that for months, you got under his skin and he did everything in his power to keep his cool. Eventually, they were in their fourth year, which you constantly teased them for even having. How many schools in Japan have an extra year? Hilarious. 

You knew Inumaki was getting tired though, on top of his already ridiculously stressful life as a sorcerer he had to deal with you acting like a child constantly just because you wanted to hear him talk. It would’ve been easy to just give you a simple word and you’d be happy and leave him alone but he is far too stubborn and you were in far too deep. 

-

Tonight, somehow, his room is the center of gathering, and of course, as his luck would have it, Maki has you in tow. You know you’re being weird in this situation but he’s not doing any better, its been almost a year now since you’ve been in his room and you hope he doesn’t remember the circumstance. What you don’t know was that it is WAY worse for him than for you. He can’t even meet your eyes.

Ever since that encounter he’s thought about you nearly every night, the way the tiny clothes barely covered you. He thinks about taking you on every possible surface in that room and he thinks about laying with you afterwards and gazing into your eyes. He’s truly fucked. And now you're HERE? in HIS room? AGAIN? The universe definitely has it out for him.

Of course the torment never stops though, you pull trick after trick to see him crack and tonight is no different, you’re on your A-game. 

“Dude you know she’d shut up if you just said one thing,” Yuuji voices what everyone is thinking.

“Nah he secretly likes getting all of (Y/N)‘s attention” Maki adds.

He stands up immediately to defend himself, mouth open as if to speak, he catches himself and mutters some regular old sushi crap and sits down while shaking his head but you still noticed the slight break. You have a positively brilliant idea. Instead of being hurt by how vehemently he denied liking you, you decide you can use it to your advantage. His disdain will be the mother of his downfall.

All eyes are on you as you make your way over to his bad and sit next to him, “C’mon man just admit it you’re obsessed with me.” Your presence makes him shift uncomfortably.

You lean up even closer, “If not me, then who? You’re a man, right? there’s gotta be someone you fancy.” He glares at you. Bingo. Though the thought of him having feelings for someone else hurts, it isn’t important right now.

“Oh? Right on the nose?” you put your weight on his shoulder “Is it Maki? Though you can’t have her I saw her first.” The giggles that fill the room are a stark contrast to the animosity in the way he looks at you.

“Or is it Kugisaki hmm? Didn’t know you had a thing for younger girls, Inumaki.”

“Or maybe our dear silent prince has a secret girlfriend outside of school?” you sure hope not.

“Get fucked” he says lowly. 

shit. shit shit shit shit shit.  wait.

Your face lights up. You actually did it. You won. 

“Does that count as a curse?” you chuckle while your friends stare in disbelief. Your victory is short-lived as Maki stands up to announce that she’s leaving before things go even more sour and everyone else files out behind her. You attempt to weasel out with them but when you’re halfway out the door he pulls you back in the room and locks the door.

“You and I need to talk” he crosses his arms.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “wow so after how many years we’re finally on speaking terms?” 

“What the hell is your problem?” his agitation is unsettling but your defiance is unwavering.

“Hey, everyone said you were nice when you used to talk whatever happened to that.” It dawns on you that you fucked up. You really fucked up.

“I don’t exactly have a desire to be nice to you right now” he unzips the jacket covering his face and for a moment your eyes are stuck taking in his all-too-often covered beauty. He points to the bed to tell you to go sit down but your head. “Fine. Be that way. Go sit” and you find yourself obeying his command because of his cursed speech. You realize should’ve thought that one through.

Once seated on the bed you peer up at him, “great I’m here now what?” 

“Now what? Now you’re gonna tell me where you get off on being a giant thorn in my side every minute of every day.” 

“I just wanted to hear-“ 

“No. This is about more than the speaking issue now. Why the hell do you feel the need to tease me about crushes when you already know how I feel about you.”  you are absolutely dumbfounded.

“What do you mean ‘How you feel about me’?” you quickly ask.

“Don’t play dumb I know you avoided me after that night because you knew I liked you” He feels like a child, arguing over something like a crush.

“I was avoiding you because-“ you don’t finish your sentence and instead wonder how you ended like this. Are you stupid or is he? Maybe both of you are just fart too oblivious.

“Because? C’mon spit it out” 

You don’t have a choice but to speak because of his cursed speech, “I was avoiding you because all I could think about was kissing you whenever I saw you and I didn’t want to embarrass myself” you choke out against your will. Inumaki pauses in shock and then smirks to himself. The situation is finally turning to favor him. 

“Oh? and how did you go from wanting to kiss me to wanting to make my life hell?” he peers down at you and walks closer to your spot on the edge of his bed.

You avoid his gaze and retreat farther into his bed. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive...” you trail off. He is loving this.

“I’m sorry what was that?” he leans over you and puts his hand to his ear. 

“Oh fuck off already” you whine and then he immediately has you pinned to the bed. 

“Babe, I think you forgot I get to give the commands here.” Why did he have to be so hot? You wriggle under him, struggling pointlessly against his grip, and finally meet his eyes. You instinctively tighten your thighs together and your face grows hot when you realized his proximity.  Your actions don’t go unnoticed.

“Say, (Y/N), do you remember the last time you were in my room?” you nod and swallow, remembering the way he looked with his hair wet and barely anything covering him. “Good, good,” he continues, “so you remember the skimpy little excuse of an outfit you were trouncing around in,” he leans closer and you can feel his breath as he speaks “or how you tore it off without a thought even though I was right there.” His gaze instills both fear and lust and each feeling intensifies as he removes one of his hands from its position holding you down and places it under your shirt to touch your side. 

The cold touch of his hand makes you shiver and he heavily considers stopping before he understands the extent to which you’re enjoying this. The realization makes him strain against his pants. “Did you think you would be safe because it was in front of me? Do you not take me seriously, (Y/N)?” He licks a stripe up your neck causing you to shudder and he proceeds to mock you with your earlier quip “I am a man you know” he trails his hand down ever so slightly and laughs when you whimper. 

“Why are you doing this?” your desire for the man on top of you is almost too much to bear, every word of his goes right to your and every touch sets your skin ablaze. The slick between your legs is already becoming a bother and he has barely put a hand on you. You’re aching for him to touch you.

“Well you have been making my life hell for a long damn time now I think it’s only fair that I get to teach you a lesson” his voice is as soft as usual and smooth as butter. You swallow thickly as he lowers his hand again until he reaches your hip bone, messing up your shorts a bit. 

“You said you thought about kissing me, right?”, you shift in his grasp again, embarrassed by your admission, but he goes on, “you wanna know what I’ve been thinking about?” you stare up at him inquisitively, silently begging an answer. He smiles and whispers “I’ve been thinking about fucking you on every surface in this room” The whine you let out is nothing short of embarrassing.

“Would you like that, (Y/N)?” he stares down at you. You know what he’s really asking and the weight of your response, and despite how much you want this, your self-consciousness forces you to avert your eyes and keep silent. “Ah? answer me.” 

You fall victim to his cursed speech again and quickly answer a soft, “yes.” He has you now. You hide your face in sheer embarrassment as he cockily smiles down at you.

“That’s what I thought. But somebody decided to be an insufferable bother instead of being a good girl and asking nicely for what she wanted. It’s a shame isn’t it?” he sighs.

You try to defend yourself, “I asked you to speak!” his hand squeezes your hip before rising up to grip your chin.

“We both know that’s not what I was talking about.”

He nips at your neck, “the only person you can blame for this predicament is yourself” when he reaches the juncture between your neck and shoulder he bites down hard causing you to gasp.

“I think I liked you better when you spoke in fish talk” It’s an obvious lie.

“Awe but princess whose fault is it that I had to break that.” He isn’t wrong and that makes it so much worse. He switches up and starts bombarding the other side of your neck. The hand holding your chin is left to explore your body, while the other hand is still holding yours down above you. It isn’t enough though, you need more of him.

 “Inu-“ you try to beg but he cuts you off.

“Toge” Your heart would jump at him wanting you to call him by his first name if you weren’t going crazy under him.

“Toge, please” 

“Please what?”

“Please hurry!” he snickers at your desperation. Bastard. 

“I think I’ll pass, doesn’t seem like you’ve learned your lesson.” He punctuates the sentence with a bite by your collarbone. You hate yourself for being turned on by this. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry and I promise it won’t happen again! Please!”

“God, fine,” he relents and moves his hand from your arms down to support himself but you didn’t dare move them even now that they’re free. ‘Cute’ Toge thinks to himself. Once he’s propped up he moves his other hand finally down below your shorts to your underwear, first feeling the wet spot on the outside and then moving them aside to dip two fingers into your heat. “You're soaked,” he says quietly, more to himself than to you.

“Shut up asshole, whose fault do you think it is?” you immediately regret your words.

He removes his hands and you whine at the loss, “Asshole? I wouldn’t complain when I’m giving you exactly what you asked for. Besides,” he moves from his position above you to the floor so he that he’s kneeling by your shorts, “I can be a lot more of an ‘asshole’ than this”. You finally move your arms down to support yourself so that you can see what he was doing and fall back down almost immediately as he sinks his teeth into your thigh. 

He’s an ass alright, he licks and nips and pokes and prods everywhere except where you need it for what feels like entire centuries.  You’re practically shaking with both frustration and anticipation. “This would be a lot easier if you didn’t move so fucking much” he hisses. 

“Well it would be a lot easier to stay still if you stopped teasing me and just fucked me already” he rolls his eyes at your response. You’re not getting what you want that easily. 

You jump when he leaves a particularly hard bite on your thigh. “Don’t move,” he commands and as his stupid ability would have it, you can’t move a muscle. You don’t miss the way he smiles to himself when he resumes his work tormenting you. 

When he at long last decides he’s done you inwardly jump for joy. Your celebration is short-lived though, “You're not off the hook yet,” he reminds you. 

“Can I at least move now?” you beg and he considers for a few seconds before speaking. 

“You can move now.” Thank god. If he didn’t release you who knows what might’ve happened. Probably not much since you couldn’t move but it definitely would’ve sucked. “Next time don’t make me use a curse to hold you still.” Next time? The thought of a next time fills you with both euphoria and anxiety. How would you deal with all of this again? Not to mention the main event hasn’t even begun yet. 

You’re stirred from your thoughts by him crawling up to finally meet your lips in a kiss. Generally, you kiss someone before you leave them a dripping mess but you’ll chastise him for that later. You’d prefer to savor this.

His lips are soft against yours and you’re pretty sure you can feel the cursed energy radiating off his mouth because of his ability. At first it’s soft and sweet, making you almost forget the nature of your situation, but it quickly grows aggressive with both of you wanting as much of the other as you could have. It’s messy and it’s grabby but it’s exactly what you need and you find yourself moaning into him. He pulls away to free himself of his jacket and t-shirt and you shamelessly ogle his toned torso. 

“Take a picture it’ll last you longer” he smirks at you from above.

“Not longer than this is taking Ill bet”

“Patience is a virtue, love, and this is still a punishment.” His words send shivers down your spine.

He crawls back on top of you. “You know, you’re always beautiful but seeing you desperate and panting is a special treat for the eyes.” you blush hard at his remark and try to squirm away before he holds you still. “Not so fast, princess, I thought you wanted this?” He runs his hand down your abdomen into your shorts and finally slips his fingers back into you. You mewl at the feeling and buck your hips unintentionally into his hand. 

It's practically bliss after all of the teasing he put you through. You lace your fingers in his hair and pull him in for another sloppy kiss while he finger fucks you. You’re in heaven. 

The boy knocks you out of your thoughts to whisper into your ear, “You know, babe, cursed aren’t the only thing my mouth is good for,” he slowly makes his way back down again between your legs. 

“Yeah I get it please don’t start back up with the teasing.”  You try to shut your legs in a strange attempt to deter him from resuming his earlier attack.

“Relax, I’m being nice, now arms up” he uses his power to command your arms back up above your head and finally pulls your shorts off of you. He pulls your underwear aside with his right hand and resumes his previous ministrations with his left, two fingers expertly stroking inside your most intimate area while you settle back into bliss. He smiles to himself and gently kisses your thigh before deciding to dive right into his next meal. You jump when you feel his tongue prod at your clit but you shudder with content when he finds his rhythm. Perhaps the gods actually are looking out for both of you.

He eats you like a five-star meal, savoring every moan and whimper that falls from your lips, he’s good and he knows it. You can’t even be sure if he’s doing this for you or for him. You’re so close and you desperately want him to finish you, “Toge, pleeeease” you moan and he quirks an eyebrow. Maybe it’s been a while but this certainly isn’t his first rodeo, he knows exactly what you're getting at. 

“What’s that? You wanna cum?” 

“God! Yes! Please!” you whine and he chuckles. Your orgasm is so close that you could reach out and grab it until he pulls his fingers out and you almost cry at the loss of contact. 

The shaman laughs at you, “Did you forget you were bad? If you want to redeem yourself you’re gonna have to cum on my cock.”  The way he speaks to you now is nothing like the normal Inumaki you know and the contrast would be frightening if it wasn’t so arousing. He stands up from his position kneeling in front of you and grabs your hips to pull you to the edge of the bed. “If I release you will you be good and stay there?” you nod furiously and he smiled, “you’re free” he whispers and you immediately use your arms to grab his neck and pull him in for another kiss.

Once he pulls away he grinds against you a few times. You lean into the contact. You’re so needy it feels like your skin is on fire and only his touches could put it out. He moves his hand to finally strip you of your underwear and discard it on the floor. 

You sit up to reach for his pants but he pushes you back into the mattress “What did I say?” you remember your promise not to move and stay down. He leans down to lock your lips in another deep kiss and runs his hands down your sides to reassure you. You’re sure he can feel your heart pounding. 

He pulls away so that he can reach and pull down his sweats and allow his erection to spring free. You’re surprised at the size he presents, considering how soft Toge’s presence generally is you wouldn’t have thought his dick would be so,,, imposing. But there you are practically salivating at it. He chuckles and you realize you’re staring. 

He pulls you even closer and spreads your legs, you quickly move to cover yourself but he stops you, “Awe c’mon baby, pretty girls shouldn’t hide.” he coos and leans over to kiss your forehead. 

He grabs himself and strokes against you to collect the slick still building between your thighs and you whine every time he passed over your swollen clit. It feels like you’re going to burst but you don’t want to disobey him and risk prolonging the torture so you keep as quiet as possible. 

When he decides he’s ready he puts his hands over your hips and slowly pushes in. He lets out a sultry groan that makes you clench. He lets his head hang back as he eases into his rhythm. You're sure you’ve never known such bliss. He fills every bit of you perfectly. His thrusts are steady and deliberate like everything else about him. He moves his hand just below your navel and grunts. When you look up to question him he takes your hand to rest it in the the same position and you’re shocked at what you find; he’s so big you can feel him from the outside. 

He could go on forever and you would be happy. It’s a perfect scene until his thrusts become frantic and then come to a halt. You whine and try to rock your hips into his but he holds you down.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him.

“Do you like me?” he quietly responds. 

“What?”

“Do you like me?” 

“Are you serious?” 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” You nod your head aggressively to his question. “Then, Do you like me?” You’re surprised he’s asking you about your feelings right now like they aren’t obvious. It's especially evident that he was avoiding using his cursed speech to get you to respond. He wants you to say it of your own volition. He wants you to mean it. 

“....yes”

“like you mean it” 

“Yes. I like you! Since the first time I saw you walking the grounds. I like you a whole fucking lot,” you confess sincerely, “now please get back to fucking me!”

Like a new man, he bends down and kisses you before grabbing your hips up off his bed to pull you into him while he thrusts into you. It’s a slight difference but the new angle is twice as he’s and thrice as deep. Your moans grow loud but you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. 

You reach down to touch yourself but he quickly swats your hand away, “You can touch when I say so,” he huffs, “Only I get to touch you right now.”  

You plead with him, but your words came out in stutters because of his hard thrusts, “But..... wanna cum...... feels good.”

He tries to stifle a laugh at your desperation, “Baby, I don’t see what you’re not getting, you can cum when I say so.” You look up at him with pure need. “Do you think you deserve to cum?” you nod your head quite enthusiastically. He looks over you to take in your flushed face and the way your hair clings to the sweat on your neck, it's the most beautiful sight that has ever graced his eyes. “Are you sure?” he asks and you nodded again. He grins mischievously and leans towards your ear, “then cum.” 

He doesn’t even need to touch you for you to see stars. His cursed speech makes the knot in your stomach snap immediately. He continues pumping in and out of you while you writhe and spasm under him from the intensity of your orgasm. He adores the fact that it was him making you feel this way. He adores the way that tears prick your eyes from the overwhelming sensation. He adores the way you fumble for words. Mostly he adores you. Fuck. He’s close.

You find yourself already quickly approaching another high, “Toge-“ he cuts you off.

“Shh, gettin close,” he says, “Can you manage another one for me? Wanna come together.” you nod to him and he smiled, “Atta girl, where do you want it?” 

It’s a considerate question but you’re embarrassed to answer, you don’t want to keep him waiting though. 

“.. Inside.... please,” you say it so softly he barely hears it. Once he registers your words he groans at the thought of you wanting him to coat your insides. This is his dream come true. 

He gives everything he had in his last thrusts, fucking into you like his life depends on it. “Are you ready?” 

“Ah-   fuck-   yes,” you moan out, “please, Toge.” Were you trying to kill him?

With the way you say his name he knows he can’t hang on much longer. He takes a deep breath in and leans down to whisper in your ear, “cum for me.” His cursed words flowed through your body as you come undone around him. As soon as Toge feels you contract around him he grunts, his thrusts become sloppy as he finishes inside of you and the heat emanating from it only intensifies your orgasm. He kisses you again while you both calm down. This one is softer than any other so far, it’s loving and reverent. It suits the calm and quiet Inumaki you fell in love with. He pulls away for air, taking a few deep breaths before he pulls out of you with a sigh. He wipes his length with the shirt he discarded on the floor earlier, tucks himself into his underwear, and pulls his sweats back up to his hips.

“Oh my god, how am I supposed to walk to the showers without anyone seeing me?” you panic.

“You just have to ruin the moment don’t you?” he sighs while walking over to his dresser and fishing for something. He pulls out a towel and heads back over to a water bottle on his nightstand, he offers you a sip before dumping some of it on the towel to dampen it. He pats the part of the bed closest to him so you crawl over. He uses the soft towel to gently but thoroughly wipe you off before doing the same to himself. 

“I guess that works,” He doesn’t respond to you but instead walks back over to his drawers to grab a pair of underwear and a large t-shirt to throw in your direction. “I am not wearing your underwear,” you protest.

“I don’t think you want yours,” he responds and you look at your underwear on the floor, wet and wrinkly. He isn’t wrong.

You step into the underwear he offered you and throw off your sweaty shirt in favor of his clean one, “Thanks,” you mumble awkwardly, not sure how to tread after what just happened. 

The shaman grabs you and plopped back into his bed, holding you to his chest, “So you like me huh?” he says quietly and you turn red.

“I guess I might’ve said that” you avoid his gaze but he turns you around to look at him. 

He kisses you on the forehead, “You’re finally mine,” he said softly, not possessive loving.

“I don’t recall agree-” you try to add but he cuts you off.

“Would you say no?”

“Well no but-”

“Then don’t complain” he kisses your cheek and you sigh. He gets out of the bed to go look for something and comes back with his cell phone, “here.” He hands it to you to put your number in.

“I can’t help but feel like we’re doing things backwards,” you snort.

“I can’t keep talking, at least this way we can write.” You set your contact name and put a little heart at the end, which he smiles at, and send yourself a text. Upon hearing the ding on your cellphone you go into the messages save his contact. 

He hops back into the bed with you and holds you close to him. He kisses your forehead again and pulls back to send you a text.

——-

NEW UNREAD MESSAGE 

FROM: Toge️ <3

does this mean you’ve learned your lesson? 

——-

You giggle at the message and peck him on the lips. You type out your response and he rolls his eyes when he receives it.

——-

TO: Toge️ <3

i make no promises 

——-

He smiles and shakes his head as he turns off the lamp beside his bed and he pulls you in tight as you both drift off to sleep. 

[purple-vixen]

Love is a Locked Door - Dick Grayson/Reader

Summary: Damian asks you and Dick to check if there are any monsters in his closet. Somehow the two of you end up locked in there.

_

You have been friends with Dick for quite some time now. He was definitely one of your favorite people in the world. Dick was funny, kind, smart and selfless, and also strong and very, very handsome. Though the latter ones you never dared to say out loud.

You were in love with Dick Grayson, and you kept this secret under lock and key. Making a move never really crossed your mind. You and he were friends for so long that you were convinced he would never see you in the same light you saw him, besides, you were afraid of ruining your friendship. No one understood you like him, there was no way you were going to risk it.

Being his friend meant you were a regular Wayne Manor visitor, consequently being able to witness Dick's crazy siblings. They all adored you, though Damian was the one who became most fond of you. In the beginning he tried to hide it, but eventually stopped doing so. It was very surprising for the batfamily to see Damian getting attached to someone so quickly.

Damian would show you his action figure collection, play violin for you, ask your opinion on his paintings and he introduced you to every single one of his pets. Not to mention the times Damian would show up in your apartment's balcony seeking advice or just someone to talk to and you two would chat and drink tea all night. You always scolded him for not using the door like any other normal person, but after seeing it was not going to work you decided to let it slide.

You saw Damian like the little brother you never had. He was a cute little cinnamon roll. A deadly cinnamon roll that knew how to kill a person with just two fingers, but a cinnamon roll nonetheless. Which is why you were not able to say "No" to Damian when he asked for you and Dick to check if there were monsters inside his bedroom’s closet.

You and your best friend were now inside there, each one holding a flashlight in your hand, pointing the beams to every shelf, hanger, pile of clothes and corners possible. You had to admit, you had the impression something was a bit off, considering that Damian and Jason were also in the room and they still haven't tried to kill each other yet.

Although the closet was spacious, you and Dick accidentally bumped into each other. He grabbed your shoulders to stop you from falling and you could feel your heart beating so fast it felt like it would jump off your chest at any second.

— Be careful. — He whispered softly. You were glad it was too dark for him to see you blushing as he wrapped his strong arms around you.

— Uhm… Found any monsters yet? — Damian anxiously paced back and forth as he watched his oldest brother and you turning his wardrobe upside down.

— Not yet. —

— And if we do, we're gonna kick its ass. — Dick added.

— Hey, (Y/n). —

— Yes, Damian? —

— Thank you for helping me. —

— Anytime, Dami. I'll always be there. — You walked up to Damian just to ruffle his hair, the youngest Wayne shyly grinned in response.

Dick let out a soft chuckle. Little did you know, to Dick Grayson, you weren't just his friend anymore, you became the one he fell in love with. Seeing you and Damian interacting always made his heart melt like crazy. He thought it was so adorable, you were so adorable. It made him want to kiss you even more than he already longed for.

— What is it? — You raised your eyebrows in confusion at your friend.

— Nothing, nothing. I just... remembered a joke. — Dick scratched the back of his neck, cheeks tinting a light tone of pink as the image of being close to your lips secretly ran through his imagination. — D-Don't stand too far from the door, Damian, you have to watch it for us.  — He changed the topic.

— I already am watching. Just keep looking, Grayson. — Damian answered.

— Aren't you too old for the "There are monsters in my closet phase? — Jason was plopped head over heels on the bed, playing Subway Surfers on Dick's phone since his had run out of battery a long time ago. His green eyes glued to the screen, tongue sticking out as he tried to beat his brother's record.

— Jason, take it easy, he's just a kid. — Dick sighed. Being the older one, it always fell to him to cease his siblings' bickering.

— Aren't you too old to be alive? — Damian snapped back to Jason.

— Damian! — Dick rebuked.

— Oh, I spy with my little eye a very ugly monster, he's 4 foot 8 and wearing a turtleneck. — Jason teased.

— And I can see a deadweight spreading germs on my bed.  —

 — Enough, you two! — Dick ordered with authority. — Jason, give me my phone. Since you and Damian will keep on arguing I want it back. —

On his way to his older brother, Jason winked at Damian, who nodded back. As soon as he handed the phone to Dick, Jason smirked at him and then quietly sat back on the bed like nothing happened, hands on his lap with a rather comical angelic face.

— Sorry about that, (Y/n). — Dick changed to a soft tone as he stared at you with puppy eyes.

— It was taking too long, I guess that's a Guinness record. — You joked, trying to lighten up the mood. — Don't worry, I signed up for this when I became your friend. —

— Yeah… Friend. — He mumbled to himself.

You two went back to searching Damian's closet. A couple minutes had passed when the young boy cleared his throat, trying to get yours and his eldest brother's attention.

— Father is requesting me for an emergency. I must go. — He announced.

— Well, I better get going too. Old man's request is an order. And who am I to say no to beating up criminals? — Jason instantly jumped out of the bed and put on his leather jacket.

Words weren't exchanged, yet with just one look you knew what Dick had to say when he turned to you: "I have to leave."

The moment Dick got up and started to walk away, Damian rushed out of his bedroom, leaving the closet door unattended.

— Damian, wait! The...— Before you were able to finish your sentence, a loud slamming sound reverberated. —...door. —

You pointed your flashlight to the doorknob and tried to open it.

— It's broken. Last time Alfred went here to put away Damian's clothes he ended up locked till someone opened on the outside. — Dick commented.

— I know, but it was worth a try. — You shrugged your shoulders. — Talking about Alfred, We could try calling him. I bet he's the only person in the Manor right now. You know, beside us. —

— Great idea! — He took his phone out of his pocket. Dick unlocked his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found Alfred's name, he barely had time to hit the "dial" button before his phone ran out of battery and turned off. — Jason. — Dick growled, recalling the fact Jason borrowed his phone to play games.

— No prob. I can get my phone, it's in my purse… My god, I'm so stupid. I left my purse! — Dick burst laughing and you elbowed him, only causing him to erupt an even louder chuckle. 

— Well, that's better. — He shrugged his shoulders.

— How can it be better? We're locked in a closet! —

— There was that one time I got stuck inside a garbage truck with the Riddler. —

This time you were the one laughing. That's one of the many reasons you loved him, he always knew how to make you smile no matter what the situation was.

— I bet you loved hearing his riddles all night. —

— Believe it or not, that wasn't even the worse part. I had to soak my suit for an entire week. —

— But seriously, how are we gonna get out? — You asked as soon as the laughter died down.

— To be honest, I have no idea. —

You both tried yelling at the door to see if anybody would show up. Then Dick tried doing the credit card trick he often used to open doors, it didn't work. 

You started avidly searching for something you could pry the door open with. Eventually you encountered Damian's arsenal. The fact Damian kept a stash of deadly weapons inside his closet didn't surprise any of you.

Dick tried picking the lock with a sai and you tried slashing the doorknob with a sword. Dick would have found quite hot the way you wielded the katana and made a perfect dash attack, would have, that was if you didn't almost slice him with the sword on accident. As the last shot, Dick tried to force the doors open by throwing himself at them, the doors were blocked by something neither of you could tell and Dick lightly hurt his shoulder.

— Don't worry. I've been through worse. — Dick reassured.

— Dick, that does NOT leave me less worried about you. You could have a paper cut or a gunshot wound and I'd worry the same. —

— So you're worried about me, huh? — You could see his remarkable smirk dimly lit by the flashlight.

— I'm always worried about you, you idiot! — Dick's smirk grew wider at your reply. — Gosh, sometimes I wish I could wipe that smirk off your face. — You grumbled as you crossed your arms.

— Then why don't you try it? — Dick snapped in a flirty tone.

You inclined yourself towards him and your lips touched his. It was just a peck, it lasted for a couple seconds but for the two of you it felt like the time froze.

— Did that work? — You lifted an eyebrow. But then rolled your eyes when you realized that his wide smirk had become a full grin.

— I think you should try it again. — Dick pulled you closer to him.

Once again your lips met. This time the kiss was hungrier, needier. If only you knew that kissing him would feel that great, you wouldn't have held back for so long. Now that you were there, so close to him, you were free. And so was he.

Dick always pictured how it would feel like to slide his tongue in your mouth as you tugged his hair. And it was so, damn, good. Better than he ever wondered it could be. Dick felt in cloud nine, sensing goosebumps as your fingertips roamed around his abs. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, your chest was pulled flush against his, yet it still wasn't close enough.

You both pulled away breathless. The room was dimly lit, but as Dick tried to regain his breath, you could see his sapphire blue eyes with the pupils blown out.

— I guess that worked. — You joked.

— I should try being cocky more often. — He replied with that same flirty tone. — So… How long did you…? —

— For a while. —

— Yeah, me too. What took you so long? —

— Well... I was afraid things would get awkward between us. I wasn't sure if you liked me back. —

— Are you kidding me? I've been dropping hints for months! — He chuckled. — After all of this is over do you want to go on a date with me? —

— I'd love to. — You grinned.

You two were about to continue your makeout session when suddenly the creek of the door was heard, the bright light from the bedroom almost blinding your eyes since you got used to the dark from being locked in there. Both you and Dick jumped out of each other, in an attempt to not get caught.

— Okay kids, seven minutes in heaven is over! — Jason mocked after opening the door to your way out. Damian right behind him.

— Seven minutes? We've been locked here for two hours! — Dick protested.

— You say it like you weren't enjoying it. C'mon, just thank us. — He smirked.

— What do you mean by "thank" the two of you? Wait… You planned this? — You questioned.

— It was actually Damian's evil master plan, but I helped him execute it. Ya know, making Dick's phone run out of battery, hiding your purse, pushing the desk in front of the door so that you couldn't bust the door down. That kind of stuff. — Jason shrugged his shoulders.

— And apparently it all went well. — Damian nodded. — TT. Maybe too well. —

— Dami! — You rebuked. — Why did you do that? —

— I figured that if you started dating Grayson, you would have an excuse to visit us more often. — He crossed his arms as his cheeks blushed.

— You're aware that if that happens she will come here to visit just Dick, right? — Jason asked.

— Lay a finger on her and you're a dead man, Grayson! — Damian snarled and grabbed your hand, dragging you along with him as he started running. You couldn't help but chuckle at the fact the 11-year-old was so protective of you.

— Hey! I want my date back! — Dick whined and started running after you.

You rolled your eyes at the two boys as you ran, you knew tonight would be a long night since you first arrived at the Manor.

[softlyjiminie]

oh kitten! | p.j.m

⇢ pairing(s): park jimin x cat hybrid!reader, mentions of panther hybrid!jeon jungkook x cat hybrid!reader.

⇢ word count: 2.4K

⇢ genre: smut, fluff, hybrid!au.

⇢ summary: no one expected park jimin to come home with a hybrid, let alone a female cat hybrid. innocent as can be, sweeter than sugar, she was the apple of jimin’s eye, but little did they know, how good she could be.

⇢ warning(s): please read! heavy smut, pwp, dom!jiimin, sub!reader, oral sex (female receiving.), fingering, male masturbation, light exhibitionism,  master kink, corruption kink, degredation kink, god kink if you squint,  mentions of pet play, light choking, spanking, cum play, breeding kink, unprotected sex - please wear protection!

⇢ author’s note(s): happy new year friends! it is i, your favourite jimin luvr back with a very special gift for miss @fantasybangtan​, gia hit me with this very wonderful and steamy gift, so in my new years haze I managed to throw this little steamy one-shot together! please enjoy this very smutty fic hehe.

no one expected park jimin to come home with a hybrid, let alone a female cat hybrid. jimin already had plenty of girls wrapped around his finger before her, so why did he need a hybrid? the short answer was that he was lonely, looking for someone to take care of and fill the empty space between work, college and parties. but jimin had seen the look of happiness on yoongi’s face that one time,upon seeing his girlfriend  bring in their excitable german shepard hybrid; taehyung  (of course with the permission of their boss seokjin, some establishments didn’t allow hybrids on the premises.)

namjoon, his old roommate had moved out after getting his own cat hybrid, jungkook. the panther hybrid had many lazy tendencies, sometimes aggressive and possessive which had ultimately led namjoon to leave. in other words, jungkook was lazy and mean as fuck. however, he did have his adorable moments. then there was, hoseok who frequently volunteered in a shelter for hybrids. it had been him, the jubilant man,  who helped jimin to find the right hybrid for his home, but the older male would have never suspected his blue haired ‘bad boy’ friend to go for the most innocent little short hair he’d ever seen. 

oh kitty, if hoseok knew how innocent and good she really was. 

YN’s back was arched, dark fluffy tail wrapped around her thigh as she held her ass up high for jimin to see. with dark eyes, jimin nudged her thighs apart with his own, just so he could get a view of her pretty, creamy little pussy. her ears were flat with submission too, making heat crawl down his spine. “look at you kitten,” jimin cooed lowly, crescent moon eyes heavy with seduction. “all spread out for me, like a good little girl.” 

he hummed in satisfaction, watching her tail twitch and ears flicker to place his movement. YN knew he was right behind her, her modified hybrid DNA meant her keen sense of smell could detect his growing arousal and the denim that prevented it from filling her up. she let out a quiet mix between a whimper and a purr, burying her face into the fresh cotton sheets as she wiggled her hips in an attempt to get jimin’s attention. 

hands on her waist stilled the motion, causing YN to glance back over her shoulder to gauge his reaction. jimin smirked, shuffling down the bed with her ass still firmly in grip. the tattooed man yanked at her hips with bruising force,  bringing her sopping heat closer to his face once his knees hit the floor. nose just inches away from her swollen nub, jimin’s  hot breath fanned over YN’s throbbing core and sent her senses into overdrive. “tell me kitten, what was it that you did so wrong? tell master so he can give you what you need baby.”

his voice dripped with mockery, testing all of her self control. jimin had her trained well, to be a good pet, not only when but if he desired it. he loved to see YN on her knees when he came home from a busy day, mouth open and ready to take his fingers spiralled with tattoos. he loved it. she adored it.

“i t-touched myself,” she mewled after jimin pressed his plush lips against her core in a sloppy kiss. he hummed, as if asking her to continue, causing her fingers to grip the sheets. “because the heat, m-my heat was too much!” 

the tattooed man licked a stripe along the length of her dripping cunt, the overflow of her arousal sweet on his tongue. jimin was addicted, senses overflowing with all of her. “what else sweetheart? elaborate for me.” 

“’called taehyungie ‘n hoseok t-to help with my heat-, oh my god!” she squealed when jimin’s skilled tongue slipped past her entrance, feasting on the heavenly nectar that gathered there. YN was sinful, without even trying, her innocence turning the man on beyond compare. corrupting her, tainting his little angel.  jimin moaned into her core, loving how she desperately cried out his name. letting a inked hand run through his teal tinted locks, jimin lifted himself off of his knees and begun to  sooth her whimpers, smoothing over the curve of her ass. “they said- oh my - they said no so i called kookoo to he-help! jimin!” 

the tattooed man growled into her cunt, possessively at the other hybrid’s name. memories only driving him to push his tongue into her pulsing hole, he smirked against her, drawing patterns on her desperate cunt as she cried out. before adopting YN, jimin knew next to nothing about owning and taking care of a hybrid, let alone about their reproductive cycles. so when his kitten fell into her first heat with him,  jimin panicked and immediately took to calling namjoon for advice. 

jimin remembered his face being bright with a red when his little, sweet, innocent kitty begged him to fill her up with his cum. because, sure, park jimin had been with girls before but this was YN and YN was his precious little baby. jimin had never seen her in such a state before, tears pooling in her beautiful, doe eyes like she was in pain. desperately needing something, someone to take the edge off.

namjoon offered up jungkook to help take care of jimin’s darling kitten and of course, he was sceptical. jungkook wasn’t gentle, he couldn’t take care of a little thing like YN. 

but oh how jimin was wrong. 

never in his life, in his time with YN had he heard her scream such filthy words, begging for jungkook to stuff her full of his load and breed her till his heart content. of course the panther obliged, groaning and barking orders into YN’s ear as their skin slapped against each other. 

and so it became a regular occurrence from then on, jimin making a home on the living room couch as jungkook took her round after round after round. YN’s moans  like a sweet melody filling the void of the apartment, causing jimin’s cock to harden in his sweatpants. he should have felt bad, bad for touching himself to orgasm whilst listening to YN being pounded away. it wasn’t until recently, when jimin had confessed his feelings (and jealousy), that he started helping her through the heats. making his name, jimin , the name that she chanted like a mantra.

“minnie, it hurts,” YN gasped, a slur in her words after he’d neglected her cunt for too long. with a teasing smile, jimin withdrew his face from her heat, replacing his tongue with a finger, slowly pumping it knuckle deep within her red hot walls. jimin grinned cockily in delight, feeling her walls take him in like a glove, pushing her (or rather his) sweater over her ass and up to her chest. 

kissing a trail up her back, jimin smiled against the expanse of her skin, reaching her neck and biting down just hard enough to form a love bite. he wanted YN’s skin to shine with his work, painting blue and purple hues across her skin like the night sky. “i know angel,” he murmured softly, millimetres away from her sensitive cat ears. “i’ll take care of you baby, i’ll fill you up so good, fuck you raw and then feed your tight little pussy my cum, would you like that kitten?” jimin’s voice was raspy in her ear, making YN’s chest heave at the thought of jimin inside her spasming walls. a fresh set of tears watered in the cat hybrid’s eyes as jimin’s finger curled, bringing her closer to the edge. stars formed behind cat-like irises as she teetered over the brink of orgasm, the knot in her stomach desperate to uncoil.

but just as quickly as it came, it stopped. “or would you rather kookoo?”

jimin’s whisper was hot against her kitty ears, causing them to twitch as she almost sobbed into the pillow with a shake of her head, moaning out for something, anything. “what about him, kitten? would you prefer if he fucked you like this? tossed you around and filled you up with his seed? hmm?“ jimin spoke harshly, landing a spank to YN’s ass. “i bet you would, all you can think about is being filled with cock and cum, bet you’d take anyone in that filthy cunt of yours.” 

“no, no, no!” YN cried, grinding her ass back into jimin’s jeans, leaving a wet patch at his crotch once she realised he had moved there. “i-i want you, i want you minnie please! don’t want him, don’t want koo, only you...”

the blue haired boy smirked lightly and sat back on his knees, slowly manoeuvring to unbuckle his belt. the clink of metal clanking on metal made the kitty moan in wonton as her ears swivelled at the sound. “say it again.” Jimin commanded, stripping off the rest of his clothes, the scent of his arousal filling his kitten’s nose. “beg for master, darling.”

“please, please i need you, m-master please- ” she didn’t need to say much before he was swiping the swollen, burning red head of his cock along her soaked slit. jimin shuddered above her, easing his thick cock between her folds as he encased the kitten between his arms. his bare chest moulded perfectly with the slope of her back, her ass resting comfortably at his hip. “hmmm minnie...”

in return, jimin gave an experimental thrust of his hips, whimpering into YN’s hair when she clenched around him. “fuck kitten, alway s’fuckin tight for me.” he moaned, thrusting in again, just to hear her little mewl’s of pleasure. the head of jimin’s cock caught on her wet walls, dragging against them as he repeatedly pushed in and out of her hole, abusing the sensitive area by rolling his hips into her constantly.

jimin lifted himself from her back, hands settling on her hips as he pulled her as back onto his cock, watching her cheeks jiggle with every movement. YN’s face was pressed deep into the pillows as she cried out his name, grinding back onto him like her life depended on it. “m-minnie please...” 

“please what kitten?” jimin panted, kissing up her spine again but never slowing the pace of his hips. “what is it that you want, hm? is my cock not enough for you?, greedy girl. want me to go faster? harder?” 

the blue haired male punctuated his words with swirls of his hips, his bright red tip prodding at her g-spot, eliciting a series of purrs from her kitten lips. he ravished the back of her neck once more, pausing his movements to let her roll back onto him feverishly, her cunt clenching right around him as her orgasm drew near. “h-h minnie, oh!” her purrs grew louder, moans reduced to mumbling his name and sighing once the weight of his body was on top of her again.

jimin’s thrusts became erratic, the force behind them more powerful. YN squeezed around his cock, purring for him and sending the vibrations going straight to his dick. “you gonna cum kitten?” he groaned into her hair, caging her in underneath him as he focused on thrusting deep. thick fingers fumbled to flick at her swollen clit with one hand, the other pressed lightly on her neck, forcing his thumb into her hot, wet mouth. “gonna make a mess of my cock?”

“yes! ’m so close,” she slurred, biting into the fabric of the pillow to control herself.

jimin nipped at her ear. “cum for me baby.” he growled, squeezing his eyes shut when she contracted around him one final time, arching her back to rut against him. jimin helped YN ride out her high as she milked his length for all he had, the tightness of her heat becoming too much for him. “where do you want me?”

“c-cum inside me, fill me with your kittens. breed me.” she purred, breathless as she swivelled her hips over his cock, the man above her practically sobbed as he gave a final two thrusts, filling his baby up with his thick hot seed.

jimin felt his arms give out as he collapsed to the side, not daring to crush his precious angel with his body wait. closing his whiskey eyes, jimin stilled to let his breathing calm, only cracking an eye open when YN moved over to give his inked arm appreciative kitten licks. “good? you’re okay, right princess?” he hummed in concern. 

“mhm! thank you jiminie, i think it’s settled for now. could i have some water please?” YN smiles shyly, the dimples in her cheeks returning. jimin chuckled, the switch of her personality reminding him of how innocent she could be and if he wasn’t so tired he knew his cock would have stirred again. with a shake of his blue hair out of his eyes, jimin nodded and sat up, leaning over to grab a bottle of water from the emergency supply under the bed. “thank you!” 

after the first few heats that he’d helped YN with, jimin quickly realised that both she and he would need replenishments if YN were to stay healthy and he were to keep up his stamina to satisfy her. it was a good thing that he could never get enough of her. the inked man watched with tired eyes as YN gulped down the water, trickles falling down the corner of her mouth and dripping onto her bare chest as she swallowed it down easily. 

wonder what else she could swallow like that, jimin thought. a small cough caused him to shift is gaze from his hybrid’s chest and up to her, innocent eyes. “you’re staring, minnie.” YN whined, with a pout on her lips. 

“you’re beautiful, is staring a crime?” he countered, moving to press a kiss where the water lay and followed to trail back up to the corner of her mouth. YN shifted on her knees, gasping quietly at the soft touch. jimin grinned widely against her supple cheek, biting it softly as he sensed another hot rush flooding through her. YN was so responsive to him, and only him. 

it was a privilege that he loved.

“no, but if i didn’t know any better, i would think you were the hybrid in heat...” she gasped, eyes rolling back as jimin moved his hands to cup her breasts. 

“whaddya say baby, another round?” 

“please, master.” she nodded, already moving to straddle jimin’s lap, ready for another round in the sheets. 

oh, what a good kitten she was. 

[gojoscloset]

“Hello, I just read your writing d**k appointment and I like it very much. And suddenly, I saw that you open the request NSFW dialogue prompts. Would you please write prompt 60 “Looks like someone wants to be a dad/mom” with Gojo or Megumi please 🥺”

Bahaha omg I’m so sorry I’m late as hell I’ve been busy with a lot mentally cause I have the attention span of a goldfish.

Please please enjoy, thank you so much for requesting lol. I’m back on my bullshit ✨

60. “Looks like someone wants to be a mom/dad”

WARNINGS: N S F W

Reposted from previous account

Smut obvs.

Breeding kink???? (if you squint)

Cream pie

Mentions of Pregnancy

No proofread??

————-

“Looks like someone wants to be a mom.”

You didn’t dare look away from what you thought had to be one of the cutest pairs of baby shoes you have ever laid your eyes on.

“Hmm? What do you mean? I just thought they were cute!” you lifted the pair of shoes up and gave your boyfriend a grin.

But Satoru was no idiot.

You see, these past few months have been filled with nothing but waves of emotions and ideas that you would have never thought you would have contemplated this early in life, but a pregnancy scare earlier in the year shook your world and turned it on its axis.

Of course you had imagined a life with Satoru, possibly married in the later years, and a potential family way wayyy down the line. However, you were content with where you two stood. A strong and healthy relationship, 2 consenting adults in love. But you also had to remember you were 2 powerful sorcerers in love. So even with your line of work, kids at the moment seemed really out of the question. Hell, even being in a relationship with someone like Satoru was a blessing with the lives you two lived. So even the idea of bearing his child seemed like you were asking for a lot from the universe.

When your period came late, all your little fantasies and thoughts of having a family took a step closer to becoming reality, you melted at the idea of becoming a mother and all your fears and doubts were thrown out the window.

But alas, the joy left just as fast as it came you were back on your regular schedule the day before your doctor's appointment. Relieved of course, but things weren’t the same.

Day after day you caught yourself indulging more and more in the idea of what your life would be like with a child. Would your first child be a girl or a boy? Whose features would they take on the most? Oh how you prayed to the gods that they would look more like Satoru than anything.

Would you be a good mother? Would Satoru be a good father? There was no doubt in your mind that he would be.

Don’t even get started on the names.

Your gaze would linger when you would pass up children and their parents at a park. Or when you would pass up baby clothes at the shopping strip, you would stop in your tracks and imagine your future child wearing that outfit.

Secretly you would shop for clothes online just to ‘see what they look like’ Or secretly read first time mom forums on breddit just to ‘See how it feels’ but it was so much more than just a passing curiosity.

And of course, You weren’t the only one who noticed the change.

You and Satoru have been in the love game for a respectable amount of time, and have spent the seconds, hours,days,weeks,months,years, in each other's presence. He would absolutely be able to acknowledge when you’d turn your head in the kids section or when your gaze would linger on the little girls in princess dresses at the market, corners of your lips curling just a little.

Or when a toddler at the grocery store handed him a fake phone,in which he pretended to answer with such enthusiasm you would almost believe he was actually on the phone with someone,he could visibly see how your heart melted at the sight. You looked at him like you wanted to marry him on the spot for the rest of the day. A personal favorite memory of his.

Satoru was a dumbass, but he was not stupid.

You didn’t know how much he loved seeing these little things, the little changes in you. Behind his tinted shades and through his long lashes, he would carefully watch your duality go from powerful sorcerer to something maternal.Something you never did in all the time he has known you until after the scare.

It made him want to jump your bones on the spot and put a baby in you every time, but you never brought up the topic despite seeming to be interested in motherhood, and respectfully he left it alone. But you had been caught red handed almost always.

Satoru held himself back when he had various opportunities to talk about it, do you know how hard that is to do as Satoru?

He wanted to press on. He wanted to pry and ask you all kinds of questions regarding the sudden change, but he knew that there was a time and place for everything, and now was definitely not the time nor location.

“Hey, not bad!” He allowed his glasses to slip off the bridge if his nose ever so slightly to get a better view.

“I would wear these if they came in my size”

He joked, you smacked his arm playfully and laughed.

“Cmon lets g-“

You were about to place the shoes back on the rack but he stopped you before you did. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few photos of the shoes and tag.

“I was being serious” he stated plainly, earning another laugh from the both of you.

——

The rest of the day went on as normal, for the most part. The little interaction at the store replayed not only in your mind but Satoru’s as well.

‘Did I make it too obvious?’

‘Did I overdo it with the shoes?’

‘Is it time to talk about it?’

—-

‘Toru..’ you whined but that didn’t stop him from continuing to bend you like a pretzel while plowing into you.

“Don’t be shy now, you look so good like this. ...And those faces you make....” he licked his lips reaching out to grab your jaw, thumb running across your lip.

Even though you were whining about the embarrassing positions he kept putting you in, your body was on fire and didn’t want this to end.

With every position he managed to go deeper and deeper, hitting places only he knew how to hit. He utilized the curve of his dick just how you liked it, grazing your favorite spots with every thrust.

The way your walls fluttered and clenched against his made them his favorite spots too.

It was crazy to you how Satoru knew your body like nobody else did. He knew every curve, every dip, every corner. He knew what made you weak in the knees and what you disliked with a passion. He knew what made you cream, what made you wet, what made your back arch and your toes curl.

“You like that Hmm?” He bucked his hips, folding your legs up, pushing your knees as close to your chest as possible.

He gazed into your eyes, watching the way your face wrenched in pleasure. He needed that, he loved that. Being able to see your expression contour and twist because of him, god it got him off.

He looked down at you, his usually spiky hair now flattened with sweat, strands sticking to the side of his face. He bit his lip, and gripped your hips with force, bruises were guaranteed.

He brought you closer, you slowed your breathing to control the ride. You two had been fucking long enough to know the Cues, the way your body twitched and the little sounds you would make when you were close triggered the muscle memory and he moved in the way he knew would push you over the edge.

“D..Don't slow down!” You commanded, throwing your head back into the sheets, the familiar tingling sensation starting at your core, his pace picking up, hands trailing down your abdomen, fingers circling around your clit, wet with its own slick.

He couldn’t help but suck on his own bottom lip watching your body rock in rhythm with his, the way your breast bounced, he couldn’t help but grab a handful.

“That’s right baby….” he spoke softly, voice just above the lewd sounds you two we’re making. The squelching, skin slapping skin, the gasping sounds when he would thrust back into you.

He was getting carried away, letting the words just spill from his lips. “Mmmm fuck yeah baby, you feel so fucking good.” He groaned “fuck around and put a baby in you-“

You had been with this man for many many moons, had been through thick and thin, but nothing had prepared you two for that awkward moment.

All movements ceased the second he stopped talking. Both of you pulled away and just looked at each other, embarrassment demonstrated on both of your faces.

Both of you seemed to think about the Barget incident, and then every other incident which made the dirty talk hit different.

“Sorry” Quickly he spoke, in hopes of somehow saving his ass in case things went south.

“W-what for?” You continued to try and mask your feelings about the situation(s), but nothing could get past his eyes.

He was no idiot, you knew that, but you still tried him, because sometimes he lets your shit slide. But not this time.

“Please y/n, I’ve seen the change in you.”

The air was thick, momentarily, but the smile on his face gave you clarity.

“The lingering looks, the shoes at the store… I’ve noticed” his large hands cupped your face, thumb brushing calming shapes against your cheek.

“Is there something we need to talk about?”

He released you from your position and sat up straight.

“Toru…do you really wanna talk about this now?????” Sheepish under the circumstances

“Don’t give me that. We’ve been together too long for you to try and play this game with me.”

His hands found their way to you once again. Pulling you by the wrists, he sat you up and made you look at him as he continued to speak.

“Communication remember?” He was soft, yet stern.

“You haven’t been the same since the missed period incident.” Your jaw dropped, he was on it even with the timing.

There was no sense in hiding anything anymore, this man knows all, this man sees all.

“I’d be lying if I said you were wrong….you see..” you began to pour your heart out, trying your hardest to keep eye contact with him.

“The pregnancy scare heightened the want for a family with you, Satoru. I envision a lot of things, and you being in my future for a long long time is one of them...”

He held your gaze while looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He listened intently like you were whispering the secrets of the universe to him.

“But I never brought up the topic of family because we’re-“

“Sorcerers” He finished the sentence for you, the small smile he held earlier now turned into a flat line.

The speed in which he did was almost enough to make you flinch. Bittersweet in a way,at least this confirmed that he too thought about a family with you at one point but considered the circumstances.

A“Exactly..” you continued. “And the scare made me realize what I want in life..with you. But it’s out of reach and it’s not something I wanted to project onto- “

His large hands placed themselves in either side of your face and Satoru showered you with kisses.

“I. Love. You. So. Much.” He spoke in between kisses.

“I love you too, but- AH!!! What are you doing??!”

Satoru pulled you by your ankles, placing himself in between your legs once again.

“Putting a baby in you, that's what.” He gave you such a sweet and loving look, it didn’t match the words that spewed from his lips.

“T-that’s not funny…” Quickly, you covered your entrance before he even thought about it.

“Exactly, because it wasn’t a joke sweetheart.”

“Wait, but what about-”

“We’ll be fine, i’m the strongest, remember?” he gave you a playful wink and grabbed your wrists, playfully prying your hands away, he wasn’t going to do anything though, not without your consent, but seeing how flustered he could make you fed the already enlarged ego he owned.

“Now tell me, do you want a boy or girl? Ooh, what about their names?”

“ Satoru… wait… are you sure? Don’t you wanna think about it a little more?”

He let out a playful laugh and pointed a finger dramatically at you, “Are you sure?”

Without missing a beat you nodded, you wanted this so bad, and by the looks of it, so did he.

“That’s all you had to say, let me take care of you, my pillow princess”

-------------

The sultry night was young.How many times have you came already? It didn’t matter.

His arms were wrapped around your entire body, holding you in place as he bounced you up and down his shaft.

“My pretty girl… my sweet sweet princess.” He whispered against your skin, tongue grazing from your collar bone up to your jaw, tasting your sweat. He wanted to breathe you in, and make you his air. The words replayed in his mind as he fucked you senseless.

“and you being in my future for a long long time is one of them...”

“Toru…” Your breathing hitched,, his praise made your walls twitch around him. He got the hint and immediately went to work. In a swift movement you were beneath his form. His skin glistening with a layer of sweat.

“ How do you want it?” he groaned, draping your leg over his shoulder while grabbing the other one, spreading you wider. You were grateful for the change of position, you have been wanting to touch him for a while now but the grip he had you in earlier was not letting it happen.

Your hands hungrily made his way to his chest and arms.

“As long...as I get it…” you managed to mutter through moans. His thrusts became erratic, a sign that he was coming undone as well.

“Look at me..tell me how you want it....tell me how you need it” he licked his lips with desire. You managed to look at him through half lidded eyes, giving him exactly what he wanted, he always did the same for you.

You lifted your hips up some, grinding harder against him, letting more of him fill you up, you could swear you felt his head kiss your cervix. You did a kegel, walls giving his dick a hug.

The actions earned you a breathy moan, he almost lost his cool, it threw off his pace momentarily but when he picked back up, the speed was doubled.

“You like to play dirty, hmm? “

“The only way I like to play…”

“Very well then” he said through grit teeth, finger moving to where you were connected, rubbing your clit in circles without mercy. You were pushed over the edge quickly, mouth Ajar, and body convulsing against him, his movements did not falter.

“That’s my good girl”

He lowered his body down mouth to cage you between his arms, droplets of sweat falling onto the sheets as he tried to avoid sweat falling into your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

He asked once again, not moving an inch until you gave him the go.

You simply stared up at him, goofy grin he always carried on him plastered onto his handsome face.

You gave him the go once again and he bucked his hips.

This particular moment was sweet sweet bliss. Normally Satoru would be careless with his movements when it came to chasing his orgasm, but not this particular one. His touches would linger, fingertips burning themselves into your skin with passion, making their way from your hips to your hands, large fingers filling in the gaps between your own.

His kisses were oh so immaculate. Sweet and soft, but most importantly, abundant.

And the way he spoke your name. Only Satoru could make his words come out like they were coated in honey.

His hips snapped and he gave your hand a squeeze, face in the crook of your neck, the hot breath against your skin forced chills down your spine, with you

“I love you so much…” he groaned into your ear. With a few more bucks of his hips you felt his seed spill into you. You were running on fumes at this point, overkill with the overstim, but that’s how you liked it.

You felt your clit throb, your walls still fluttering against him from your previous climax like they were sucking every last drop of out of him.

He looked down at you silently, but the look on his face, the calm waters in his eyes said everything he needed to say. You couldn’t tear away your gaze, you were already high off the blue dream.

His eyes moved from yours to your lips, they looked needy to him. He bent his head down and planted a kiss, despite the scenario, it was chaste. Innocent. Refreshing.

“I love you.” He repeated, though he had no doubt you felt the same. “I know you do...there is not a single doubt in my mind...and I love you oh so very much, more than I could ever put in words.”

There was another comfortable silence, however, the small smile that was on your face quickly turned into a flustered look when he pulled out of you and spread your legs open, looking at the mess he made inside of you.

“W-what the fuck are you doing?!!”

You laughed nervously and tried closing your legs, but he held them open, too strong for you to try and fight against it.

“I just wanted to see the masterpiece I made. Plus-“ he positioned himself between your legs again

“I’m not done, I want to make sure I get the job done right.”

He gave you a wink, and immediately you knew you were in for a long night.

A very very long night.

[sweetbyte]

guilty 

bakumomo - rated m

chapter one | chapter 2 | ao3

chapter 3 

He’s never been more fucked in his life and he’s not even sure in what sense. Literally, figuratively or perhaps both.

Bakugou doesn’t realize that his hands have idly been tracing patterns on Yaoyorozu’s back until she sighs in contentment. She returns the gesture by running her hands along his sides in a soothing motion as best as she can from her position. She’s still draped over him from when she collapsed after she fucked herself limbless on his cock and he’s still debating if this is some fantasy he’ll be waking up from remembering how they landed on her bed.

It had started in the kitchen. He doesn’t remember who moved first but it ended up with him eating her out on the counter. They somehow migrated to her couch where he tried to give her an out trying to be a fucking gentleman for once instead of taking her against the wall. She rode his thigh until he felt her wetness seep through the dress pants he was still in from the night before all the while confirming very clearly that she was not opposed to the wall, not in the slightest.

So to the wall they went and he finally entered her, from behind no less. He fucked her so hard that she struggled to stay on her toes trying to meet his thrusts. Not even in battle did he feel such a desperate frenzy.

It slowed down when they made it to her bed. Be it the adrenaline rush coming to its end or the intimacy associated with the bedroom, he gave her a gentleness even he couldn’t explain. He let her take the wheel and sat back for the ride until she was practically begging him to come with her. And he did, clutching her thighs with such force he was certain they’d be bruised for days. Good. He saw nothing but blinding whiteness as his senses left him only coming to when she collapsed on top of him.

He’d let his mind wander, not used to dealing with the after math of having sex with a childhood…acquaintance? They weren’t friends, not really. She probably would call them friends. But everyone was her friend, everyone had wanted to be her friend. No, all of his sexual encounters had been to the point and over, no lingering, no cuddling. He’d always been clear when looking for a lay and yet here he was, basking in a post coital haze.

“You are thinking entirely too loudly, one would argue that is my role.” His hand freezes over her spine and he feels his mind start to overload trying to come up with the best course of action.

“Seriously, I’m starting to smell burning rubber. I think one fire scare is enough.” Yaoyorozu teases again, this time pinching his side causing him to scoff.

“There he is.” She snickers, pinching his other side. He answers with a snarled “Quit it!” Before he can stop, he smacks her ass in retaliation and his eyes widen momentarily at her reaction. Yaoyorozu let out something of a surprised yelp crossed with the many sounds of delight he’s committed to memory from just an hour or so prior. She makes an effort to hide her face but he can feel her heartbeat quickening from her position on top of him.

“I would have never pegged you to be this kinky, Yaoyorozu.”  He smirks as his hand soothes the cheek he struck feeling her breath catch by his neck. “Some would say its my role, being this insatiable.”

“I can’t say this is a norm for me.” Her response is breathless as he resumes gliding up and down her spine.

“Ah, so you don’t seduce men into your bed on a regular. Good to know.” Despite his teasing, some ridiculous part of him is relieved. Relieved she doesn’t do this often, that he’s not just a scratch on her bed post. The twisted irony, like he has the right to know her sexual history. She’s her own person, so is he.

“I don’t! This really was not my intention either.” She huffs and its unfair really, how she can look so innocent with his come still dripping from between her thighs. And maybe he does know her better than what he had originally thought. Maybe he did pay attention to her in school to know what she’s trying to say without speaking, what she’s trying to get him to ask.

“What was this?” What is this? Is it something? Is it nothing? What am I?

Her eyes meet his and there’s an intensity that he cannot explain. He understands why so many people fawn over her. He might have persuaded to jump off a cliff for her.  Might have…

“A chance.” She finally says after she’s done soul searching him as well. “A shot in the dark.”

“Did you make the shot?”

The corner of her lip twitches as she leans closer to him until she’s a breath away.

“You tell me.”

And suddenly he’s breathless, he doesn’t know what to say.. doesn’t know what to do. So his hand moves to the back of her head tangled in her hair to hold her in place as he slowly leans up to kiss her. This feels right. Her lips on his, her body pressed on his, her heartbeat against his. Her and him. He should really be concerned, its only been one day and he feels like a fucking addict.

Yaoyorozu mewls as she pulls away with that damned flushed look on her face, but it’s the brightness of her eyes that catches his attention this time.

“We should get cleaned up and maybe find something to eat.” She mutters as she looks at the clock on her night stand.

“Worked up an appetite , did you?” He snorts and she nips his throat and whispers “something like that” before pulling away and out of the bed completely.

“As long as we order out, I don’t trust you in the kitchen.” He retorts as he lounges on her bed enjoying the view of her puttering around her room naked as she gathers some clothes. It feels so domestic he wants to puke.

She pouts. “I’m not that bad.” “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

“I am going to take a shower.” It comes out as a question. The question being ‘are you joining me?’. Only an absolute moron would say no.

He doesn’t miss the way her eyes track his movement tracing the lines of his body. “I’m going to need a change of clothes, somebody ruined my pants.”

She turns to avoid his smirk and begins to walk towards the bathroom while he trails behind her shamelessly staring at her backside. They don’t fool around in the shower, but its so intimate that it make him want to explode. He’s never been on the receiving end of someone so attentive. He has never let himself be.

She finds him something to wear as apparently she’s still somewhat of a mother hen and has had countless friends crash at her house under her care. He waits for some shitty feeling to pop out like jealousy, possessiveness or even resentment at the multiple people in her life but it doesn’t. She doesn’t owe him anything and yet she chose him.

They eat and fall asleep on the couch but it eventually gets late. He’s too proud to admit that he doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want the spell to be broken, the awkwardness to set in from the outside world.

He makes himself change back into his own clothes and lingers by the door after she scurries off to do something asking him to wait for her. The rolling in his gut has him considering running out the damn door. He’s not used to this shit.

But then she steps out dressed casually with a backpack on her shoulder with a brilliant smile on her face. “I’m ready.”

“What?”

She shakes her head at his confusion and takes his hand. “I was serious about taking my shot. You’ll tell me if I’m being too forward?”

Yaoyorozu bites her lip in nervousness as she studies his face waiting for him. To do something. To say anything.

“This shit is new to me.” He answers honestly but slowly intertwines their fingers together. ‘But I’ll try.’

She nods in understanding, a relieved look on her face as she squeezes her hand. “Let’s go.”

A/N: Better late than never. School and work threw me through a loop, but I was determined to finish this this month unlike my other pending fics. Poor things. Did change the rating, just in case. I don't understand the difference between M and Explicit yet. Hopefully it doesn’t seem too rushed. I like the idea of Bakugou struggling with the concept of feeling affection, or maybe I’m just projecting. Anywho, thank you for reading!

[winter-turtle]

House Of Wolves - Chapter 1 - Winterturtle - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

Peter Parker has been raised towards villainy by his parents for all his life. After a mission gone wrong, he is captured by the Avengers.

Tony Stark is a mechanic. He fixes things and now he's determined to fix this teenager that doesn't know any better.

The problem? Tony is a walking disaster when it comes to emotions. Another problem? He has only two weeks to succeed before Peter is taken away by Shield.

@multiverse-irondad-july

Chapter 1: Tipping The Scales

“Okay, how about this one – Elliot? No? Then… Lucas?”

Peter kept his face perfectly blank, the cool mask not giving anything away. He glanced at his hands shackled to the table, then around the dull grey interrogation room. Everything was grey – this room, his cell, even his clothes!

Why grey? It was just shitty black. He missed his black costume.

“Hmm, what about Thomas? You kinda look like you could be Tom.”

The name reading has been going on for days and it was slowly but steadily eating away at Peter’s nerves. When no one was interrogating him for information – which he would never willingly give away anyway – Barton sat down opposite of him and kept reading from various lists in an attempt to figure out his name. Of course, his name’s been already read several times, but as always, he didn’t react.

“Nathaniel?”

Oh God, if he wasn’t chained to that stupid table, he would’ve hit the man with something long time ago just to shut him up! Where the hell were his parents?

“Remember your training.”

That’s what they’d told him as they retreated and flew away to safety when it was clear there was no chance of winning. So Peter remembered his training – say nothing and stall for time until help arrives.

“We’ll come back for you.”

That was two weeks ago.

He was left to fend for himself against the Avengers. Seriously, Peter knew better than to question his parents’ decisions, but what were they thinking, attacking the Compound like that? Neither of his parents bothered to tell him why they were there in the first place.

“Just do as you’re told.”

It didn’t mean that he went down quietly. In the end, it took two super soldiers, two men in armor and one ex-assassin pressing on his pressure points to stop his trashing and hold him down.

“Kama- what the hell is this name? Kamakanaalohamailkalani?“

Peter couldn’t help himself but raise one eyebrow at that, giving the man his best are-you-stupid? look.

“Yeah, that probably is not it either,” the archer sighed. “But come on, boy, work with me here!”

Ah, yes. That’s what he’s been called ever since he got here. “Boy” or “kid” as Stark liked to call him. But what was he supposed to do? Say – yes, my name is Peter Parker, my parents are Richard and Mary Parker and we’re a family of villains. Would you like their phone number and an address where you can find them? Well, not like they had any permanent residence, but still. For all he knew, his parents could be anywhere.

Anywhere but here, busting him out of this place.

“You know, this would be a lot easier for all of us if you just told us your name.”

Peter kept staring. He was told he had very expressive face, hence why he wore full-face mask, so he took pride in managing to remain impassive for so long.

Barton rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger, sighing. “I guess we’re not getting anywhere today too, huh?”

“This is the first smart thing you’ve said today.”

“Oh, so now you talk.”

Peter merely shrugged in response.

Don’t take him wrong, he did talk… occasionally. He just talked without saying anything important. Just empty words meant to get some form of reaction out of the group of heroes. And once they snapped… well, Peter could take it. He was trained.

The silence dragged on. It was Barton that broke it once again with another tired sigh. “Fine, let’s wrap this up.”

Besides slight rise of the corner of his lips, Peter didn’t show any other sign of satisfaction. They were getting tired, he knew. But on the other hand, the whole thing was wearing him down too. Even if not by much, there was more freedom back “home”. The thing he missed the most were-

Peter’s sense tingled.

The door opened and in walked Iron Man and Captain America. His entourage for today.

“You know the drill,” Stark said.

Peter knew the drill, he was good at following orders, but there was that look again. That stupid look on Stark’s face he couldn’t decipher even if his life depended on it.

He stood up. Three. Two. One. Stark pressed the button on his watch and the shackles fell from Peter’s wrists, granting him short-lived, though not complete relief. Invisible force pulled his arms behind his back, the ever-present bracelets on his wrists that he hated with his very being clicking together.

Yeah, the thing Peter missed the most were his powers. He’s had them since he could remember, so they were basically his second nature, yet these stupid bracelets somehow dampened them enough to reduce him to normal-powered teenager.

His stickiness was completely gone. His strength and physical abilities were rendered to that of any other regular fourteen-year-old. Well, at least his senses remained unchanged.

“Let’s go,” Rogers jerked his head towards the door. Peter moved and the three men got into the formation around him. Barton in front of him, Stark and Rogers behind him.

He didn’t really understand the necessity of three people escorting him to his cell. If he were to guess, he would say that they were trying to show him who’s in power here, which was pretty useless tactic in his opinion. It’s not like he could do anything with most of his strength gone.

Which was mostly his own fault anyway. He’d gotten impatient on his third day here and now he had to deal with consequences.

They just wrapped up another unsuccessful round of interrogation and were leading him to the cell, Rhodes and Wilson on the duty. Peter, confident in his memory of the place, decided to make a break for it.

He’d let them think that the handcuffs they slapped on him were strong enough to contain him. Peter glanced around, took a note of a position of the two men with him, as well as another two people that were in the room at the end of the long hallway.

It was now or never.

Out of his suit, Rhodes was definitely the weaker one because of his legs, which made him easier to deal with. Peter squashed down the feeling of guilt. He knew the man’s condition wasn’t his fault and honestly, it was impressive that he continued doing the hero work, but the young villain had to do what he had to do.

Explore any weakness. Show no mercy.

Exactly how he was taught.

Neither man had time to react as Peter spun to the left and hit Wilson strong enough to make him hit the wall, snapping the cuffs in the process. Rhodes had split second to react. It still wasn’t enough and Peter, though he would never admit it, hit him just enough to make him fall. Wasting no time, he took off running.

“Friday, sound alarm!” Peter heard Rhodes shout and sure enough, the alarm started to blare two seconds later.

He had to be fast.

The stairs leading to the exit came in view. So did another two people, blocking his path. Rogers and Romanov. It was easy to deduct by the body language that neither side would back down.

The fight was on.

Kicks and punches were traded and with the adrenaline coursing through Peter’s veins, he somehow managed to slip past the two. So close now-

“Out of the way, you two!”

Peter heard something click and the next thing he knew, he was curled on the ground at the base of the stairs, eyes squeezed shut and clutching his head in agony. He felt like he was submerged deep in the water and the only sound that reached him clearly was high-pitched ringing.

Someone was grunting and panting. Then he realized it was him.

Peter was vaguely aware of people approaching towards him as well as someone new running into the hallway. Then there were hands around his wrists, pulling them away from his head. Peter could’ve sworn that the next sound that left his mouth was a whimper. He curled into even tighter ball.

He really hoped he wasn’t crying too.

The hands let him go. “His ears are bleeding.” Even this up close, Peter could just barely make out Captain America’s voice.

There was more indistinguishable conversation around him and the last thing Peter remembered before passing out from pain – a blessing in disguise – was the sensation of cold bracelets clicking shut around his wrists.

And he’s worn those since.

Peter walked through the door of his cell. As much as he hated to admit it, all he could actually do now was to sit on his ass and wait for the rescue. Fighting them in his current state and with the stupid but amazing ceiling computer watching his every move would yield no results. The only time he fought them was when they didn’t respect his personal space and put their hands on his shoulders or back when they escorted him.

Thankfully, they’ve learned not to touch him quite quickly.

Peter stood in the middle of the cell, his back facing the trio of Avengers. His hands fell to his sides as the release button was pressed. Peter still didn’t turn around nor said anything. Two pairs of footsteps began to make the retreat. One stayed in place for five more seconds, then the door closed. That always happened only when Stark was with the group.

Interesting.

His eyes, more out of habit that anything else, roamed over the cell. Besides the cot built into the wall, the room consisted of a “bathroom” that was just a toilet, a shower and a sink hidden by a wall, a table with short bench bolted to the ground and a camera in top left corner.

His dinner, served on a paper plate as always, sat on the table, waiting for him. Peter sighed. There were only so many sandwiches one could eat before going crazy and Peter felt like he was reaching that point.

There was nothing for him to use. Perfect place to contain enhanced villain like him.

So, saving the food for later and with nothing better to do, Peter laid down on the cot, stared at the ceiling above him and waited.

For what?

He had no idea.

The kid – God, he was just a kid – looked at him with curiosity sparking behind those big brown eyes as Tony was making himself as comfortable as he could in the uncomfortable chair.

Time to commerce the plan.

As expected, the kid said nothing. And according to the plan, neither did Tony. Instead, he pulled out his Starkpad and directed all of his attention to the screen.

At least that was what it seemed like.

“Let me go to him next,” Tony had said on that morning. At his teammates’ inquiries about the reason, Tony merely shrugged. “We’ll never know until we try.”

Tony half-heartedly scrolled through various documents and the kid looked around the room every so often before returning his gaze to Tony. It felt like the teen was studying him.

The time he’s spent in the interrogation room hit fifteen-minute mark when Tony noticed the kid slightly shift in his seat. Twenty minutes and the kid shifted again. This was new development. Sure, when Tony’s watched older footage, the kid shifted every so often, but not in such a short span of time.

Twenty-five minutes and the kid released long, soft exhale through his nose. Tony was slowly getting where he wanted. Still, he kept scrolling.

Thirty minutes passed and this time the exhale was a bit louder. The shift was bigger too. Tony glanced up at the kid from underneath his lashes, then he returned his gaze to the device.

Throughout another thirty minutes, the kid grew more and more agitated, shifting in his seat almost every minute. He played with his fingers, soundlessly bounced his right leg, his jaw began to move as if he wanted to speak.

Which he will. Eventually.

“Aren’t you gonna say something?”

Bingo.

One hour and fifteen minutes. Huh. Not great, not terrible. “Why should I? Do you feel talkative? I’ve heard you didn’t say much in the past three weeks,” he said without looking up.

The kid pressed his mouth into thin line, clenched his jaw and scowled.

Baby steps but hey! It was progress.

“This is annoying,” the kid muttered.

“How so?” He knew very well why. Contrary to popular belief, he knew exactly what he was doing. Well… this time, at least.

“Why are you here?”

The pauses between speaking shortened. Tony shrugged. The kid scoffed.

“I can imagine someone like you surely has something more important to do than to sit here with me and waste time.”

“And you are correct,” Tony replied. He looked up, smiling, “but hanging out with you in this lovely room gives me perfect excuse to not do any actual work. So, thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”

The kid’s frown grew.

“Oh my God, just get on with it!” the kid shouted, the movement of his shoulders and the clang of the chains indicating that he wanted to throw his arms up in frustration.

Tony ignored him, which fueled the kid’s frustration more. Good. Frustration led to anger, and angry person is more likely to spill something without thinking.

“Why don’t you just get Black Widow down here if you’re not going to ask anything? You clearly have no idea what to do. She will know, she was an assassin after all. Still doesn’t mean her methods will work though.”

Now this got Tony’s attention. “What do you mean?” he asked as he set the Starkpad down on the table.

And there was the kid, scoffing again. He sure did that a lot. It was… actually kinda nice to see that there was a normal teenage attitude underneath that villain layer. “Come on, do you think I don’t know how this works? You’ll keep trying to make me talk, nicely first, but you’ll get tired of it eventually,” the kid leaned forward, his voice lowering with the next words. “And that’s when you go for different approach to get what you want.”

Tony’s brain screeched to halt. There was no time to school his expression back into neutral one fast enough; the kid already noticed, pleased smile spreading across his face. Like he just got it confirmed that he was right.

“What?” Tony managed to somehow say out loud, the task of forcing out the single word around the lump in his throat nearly impossible.

The kid rolled his eyes and leaned back into the chair. “Don’t play dumb.”

“No, seriously, I think I just misheard you.” This time, it was Tony’s turn to lean forward as he tapped his ear. “Because that sounded like an implication that we’re about to torture you for information.”

“And you won’t?” the kid asked, obviously not believing him.

“No! Geez, we’re heroes. We don’t do shit like that!”

“Everyone gets tired of the nice act over time. It’s practically human nature. You might as well get on with it,” he said matter-of-factly, waving his hand as much as the chain would allow. “It won’t work anyway. I’m trained.”

The way the kid seemed to treat it like some everyday annoyance made Tony sick to his stomach. Just what kind of environment did he grew up in? Tony could imagine only one way how one could be taught how to resist physical torture.

“Okay, hold on. Let me get this straight – you’re saying that you’re trained to resist torture.”

“Yes.”

“I assume your parents trained you?”

The boy in front of him smirked. Nobody should look that proud about something like that. “Kid… that’s called abuse,” Tony said carefully.

“Jesus Christ, Tones, what the hell did you hit him with?”

“I- just a sonic blast. I had no idea he would react like this. It was supposed to daze him, not make him bleed.”

Now it all made sense. The kid was clearly in incredible pain from the sonic blast, and yet he barely made a sound. No screaming in agony, just choked grunting and panting.

Tony’s had his fair share of torture. First in Afghanistan, then when he returned and his arc reactor was ripped from his chest and then several times he’s been captured since the beginning of his hero career. That didn’t mean he was used to it. And this kid had it done to him by his own parents.

The thought of Obadiah, someone he trusted, torturing him directly while saying it was for his own good was enough to cause his anxiety rise.

Dread began to seep into his body with a sudden yet simple realization; Tony’s been hurt so much, been through so much, it was a wonder he didn’t turn to villainy. He had the perfect set up. It would have been so simple to choose to do harm with his tech instead of good.

For a moment, he saw himself sitting in the kid’s place.

The two of them were so similar, yet so different.

“Abuse?” The kid snorted. “Yeah, right. Me. Abused.”

Tony sighed. “Kid, I don’t know what kind of life you’ve been living, but hurting their own children is not something normal parents do. At least the loving ones.”

That statement set off an unforeseen reaction. The kid puffed out his chest, anger dusting his cheeks with red. “They care about me,” he hissed, “and they’ll come for me any day now.”

“Same as they came for you in the past three weeks?” Tony snapped without meaning to.

The kid didn’t have an answer to that. Instead, he glared down at the table. The sight sent a painful pang into Tony’s heart.

“I believe it’s been enough for today,” he said, the softness in his voice surprising him. “Come on.”

Surprises kept on coming because the kid went without any resistance. Tony half hoped that since he didn’t call anybody to help escort the young villain, but there was none. The kid kept his head down, unreadable expression on his face all the way until they got to the cell. Then he just stood in the middle of the room without doing anything.

Tony turned to leave.

“Peter.”

The word – spoken so silently Tony would have thought he had imagined it – made him stop just before he could fully close the door. “Come again?”

“Peter,” the kid said louder, still not facing him.

“Peter…” Tony repeated, drawling the word in clear way that he was waiting for more. For a moment, he expected the kid to remain silent, that he already said enough, but then-

“Parker.”

Tony smiled softly at the kid’s back. “Nice to meet you, Peter Parker.” This time the kid, Peter, didn’t reply. Tony took it as a cue to leave. “See you later, kid,” he said and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

Tony, sprawled across the couch with his hands behind his head, grinned at his shocked teammates. “Yep,” he said, popping the p and doing his best to shove the other horrific revelation to the back of his mind. That can of worms could be opened later. “You heard that correctly. I got the kid’s name.”

“Well?” Sam gestured with his hand for him to spill already.

“His name is Peter.”

“What?!” Clint called out.

Natasha sighed. “Clint—”

“No, don’t take me wrong, but really? Peter?” the archer threw up his arms. “I read that name in five different lists. Five!Nameberry was my best friend for the past three weeks. I already started with lists of names from different countries. So far I went through German names, all Scandinavian names and I was about to move to Slavic—” Clint suddenly cut himself off, sat down and buried his face in his hands. “How did you managed to get a name out of him in only one session?”

The question came out more like a whine.

Tony shrugged. “Maybe I just know how to talk to him better.” And maybe he said nothing at all, but nobody had to know that. “But hey, if it makes you feel any better, I think you already cracked him. Like that technique where CIA plays the same song over and over again and then you start skipping the parts, kicking the brain into overdrive.”

“All right, but did you get his last name too?” Steve asked.

“Oh yeah!” Tony said, snapping his fingers. “Parker.”

“I read that one too.”

“Oh, hush.”

Rhodey nodded to himself. “So, Peter Parker, huh?” he hummed to himself.

Bucky stiffened.

Sam’s brow furrowed. “What’s up?”

Bucky remained silent, staring at the wall with wide eyes, but seeing right through it.

Steve leaned closer, gently nudging his friend. “Buck?” he asked softly. “You know something, don’t you?”

“He was supposed to be dead,” Bucky replied as if he was in dream-like state. “All three of them were all supposed to be dead.”

“Okay, Barnes, that’s freaky,” Tony said. “You clearly know him.”

Bucky nodded. He swallowed thickly, then again when the lump in his throat refused to go away.

“Take it easy. Deep breaths,” Steve coaxed.

It took a minute, but eventually the man pulled himself together with one last inhale, his features set in determination. “About ten years ago, Hydra was working on one project. They were trying to recreate supersoldier serum, but with countless failures before, they decided to try something different.”

The room was completely silent, everyone listening to the story in interest.

“Cross-species genetics.”

“What species?” Steve asked.

Bucky looked Steve in the eye. “Spiders.”

“That would explain the powers,” Natasha muttered under her breath.

“Anyway,” Barnes continued, “Parkers, Richard and Mary, they showed up at the base one day to help with the research. But they didn’t come alone.”

The atmosphere in the room thickened.

“They had this little kid with them. A little boy with brown eyes and brown curly hair. He couldn’t be older than three.”

Even if it was expected, it didn’t make the revelation any easier. They all saw how Barnes started to behave when his time as the Winter Soldier came to haunt him.

Clint‘s face twisted into horrified grimace. Sam looked on the floor with somber look. Natasha, though her face betrayed nothing, slightly shifted on her feet. Steve’s chest rose with soundless inhale, his eyes closing.

Tony’s jaw set, anger burning in his chest. Another horror the kid went through.

Bucky let out pained chuckle, shaking his head in almost manic way. “I guess they wanted to start young since the previous test subjects, adults, all failed. They succeeded. And then… Parkers just disappeared a few days later, along with Hydra’s biggest success since me. They sent me after them.”

“I remember all of them.”

Those words spoken in Siberia echoed in Tony’s mind. In the end, the whole situation got resolved with words before anyone could get seriously hurt, but the bunker was completely trashed. To say that Tony had been angry would be an understatement. He’d been downright livid. It’d been a long couple of days, and with Ross breathing down his neck, that damn airport fight, Rhodey… it was a miracle he’d stopped himself before killing either Barnes or Rogers.

The relationship between him and Barnes was still strained though. The same went for his relationship with Steve. Luckily, both of them knew to give Tony space and not to push him.

“No survivors. That were the orders.” Bucky let out humorless laugh. “I tracked them down to this airport and… I brought the plane down. The wreckage wasn’t a pretty sight. Literal chunks of that plane were never found, same with the bodies. Hydra found traces of human blood, their blood, where the wing used to be, so they were satisfied.”

“They didn’t want Peter back alive? As much as I hate to say it, he was what they wanted,” Steve said.

“I agree with Spangles,” Tony nodded. “Seems pretty counterproductive.” Jeez, there was already a lot to unpack, but Tony would rather throw the whole suitcase away at this point.

“Hydra thought that since they were successful with Peter, the process could be easily recreated. Little did they know that the kid’s parents destroyed every single file that had anything to do with the experiment.”

“I can imagine they were pretty pissed.”

Bucky smiled at the memory. “They were furious. Several search parties were sent out in an attempt to find Peter’s body. Obviously, the search proved to be fruitless.”

“The question is,” Rhodey said, “what do we do now?”

Tony was expecting more heavy silence. He didn’t expect Steve to speak.

“Fury called and asked about our progress. He said he will take Peter into Shield’s custody. I think it will be for the best.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tony stood up abruptly, “you want to send him away?”

“Tony,” Steve sighed like he was expecting the protest. “He’s a villain.”

“He’s a child!”

“He’s also product of Hydra,” Steve countered.

Clint frowned. “Steve, he’s—"

“Stark—” Sam joined in as well and all of a sudden the whole room was buzzing with words, everyone talking over everyone.

“Do you know what he said to me during our session?” Tony raised his voice and gestured to the vague direction of the kid’s cell. The room fell silent. “He downright admitted to being trained to withstand torture. You can make a pretty good fucking guess on who trainedhim. I told him that it was not okay, but he saw nothing wrong with it!”

Tony chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. “So yeah, he might be a villain and a product of Hydra, but he is also a kid who doesn’t know any better!”

Steve looked at him with genuine pity. “Tony, I still think Fury—”

“Two weeks,” Tony rushed out. “Give me two weeks to try and show the kid how normal is supposed to look like. If he doesn’t show any redeeming quality, then… then Fury can come and take him.”

Tony knew two weeks weren’t nearly enough to make someone have a change of heart, but he’ll be damned if he didn’t try. He was a mechanic. He fixed things. And he will try to fix this kid that probably knew nothing but pain his whole life. There was no space for mess-ups. Not this time.

And… he might be a mess when it came to emotion, but maybe that’s exactly what the situation called for.

“I say let’s give him a chance.”

Despite how softly the words were spoken, they felt almost deafening in the quiet room. Tony was surprised by his unlikely ally, but assumed it made sense.

“Buck?” Steve asked carefully.

“I was a product of Hydra too and I was there way longer that Peter. You gave me a chance. I say he deserves the same,” Bucky said, determined.

“I second this,” Clint stood up. “No kid deserves to live like that.”

“If Barnes and I could change, then so can he,” Natasha said.

“They’re right,” Sam said and soon everyone was on Tony’s side.

Steve’s eyes roamed over the group, each person determined to spark the change in Peter. To help him.

“Fine,” Steve relented. “Two weeks.”

“Thank you,” Tony said gratefully.

“So, do you have anything specific in mind? When do we start?” Rhodey asked.

Tony smiled. “Right now.”

[knchins]

Symbiosis - Benimaru & Joker

Summary: Benimaru, Joker, and a former Sister learn how to work through their frustrations with their investigation into the Holy Sol Temple through the one thing they know best: sex.

Pairing: Benimaru Shinmon x Fem!Reader x Joker

Rating: E

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: pwp (I didn't even try this time lmao), spanking, vaginal sex, oral sex, dirty talk/degradation, some dob/sub themes, hair pulling, face fucking. I do not count this as dp but some people might. SPIT ROASTING.

Notes: So I wrote this for @tamcitrus and I hope she likes it! It’s like my most self indulgent piece to date probably lol. Idk how I managed to write this while being barely able to breathe but when the inspo strikes what can you do....First FF/ENS piece! I think they may be a bit OOC but...whatever I’m too sick to care.,

 “So will you join me, Sister?” The mysterious man asked as he puffed on a cigarette. You stared off at the nighttime skyline, at the temple in the very far eastern horizon. Was this something you really wanted to do? It would be dangerous, but you could sense the power coming from him. Not only that, he had already enlisted the help of the Captain of the 7th, Benimaru Shinmon. It wasn’t as if you’d be taking on the church all by yourself.  

 Your mind drifted as the King of Destruction peppered kisses down your bare throat. The mission with Joker hadn’t been entirely successful. In the end they were met with Captain Burns who handed you a journal that belonged to the wife of Raffles I. While it was true you did come up with some new theories about the White Clad, ultimately it felt like a dead end. Now you just had more questions than answers and it was incredibly frustrating.

 But you weren’t the only one frustrated. Your two new comrades had been too. Eventually you had found a way to relieve the tension that had built up over so many years of bullshit. Having been an orphan and raised as a Sister for the Holy Sol Temple, you had plenty of ill will harbored against the empire. You had long abandoned your title but that didn’t stop the two men from egging you on by calling you by it.

 Currently the former assassin was watching through a half-lidded eye as you sat in Benimaru’s lap, your back to his chest as he kissed along your neck and cupped both breasts in his hands. You were already stripped down to your underwear, both men clad in only pants and briefs. Joker tended to observe first before joining in, enjoying taking his time watching the view of Beni turn you on and work you over. Small trails of smoke rose from the lit white stick of tobacco that hung from his mouth.

 “You look so pretty like that, Sister.” He drawled, inhaling another wave of smoke that filtered out of his nose. “You like when he plays with your tits don’t you?”

 “Don’t call me that,” You protested weakly in a voice that came out as more of a moan than a grumble as Beni began to tweak your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You began to wiggle in his lap, ass brushing against his stiffening cock in a way that had him biting down on your shoulder possessively.

 The cotton panties you had been wearing were soaked all the way through between your legs. This stupid little routine always had you mewling and crying before anyone even bothered touching your needy cunt. Beni enjoyed torturing you too much and Joker enjoyed watching him do it. You had known in the beginning being the only woman in the trio would put you at a disadvantage. You just didn’t know how much.

 “Waka, please.” You gasped as he bit down on your throat this time, sucking a bruise into the skin there. One of your hands moved to try and touch your clit for some form of relief, but he warned you by warming up his hands rapidly. It wasn’t enough to burn you but it was enough to let you know that he would if you didn’t play by his rules. “Asshole.” You hissed, pulling your hand back up to a safe distance. You reached behind him and grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging it angrily.

 Beni quickly pushed you onto the tatami mat on the floor roughly, holding the back of your head in one hand, pressing your face against the material as he lifted your hips up with the other. He began to grind his erection against the wet fabric of your underwear, seething as he ripped down your underwear so that you were completely bare for the both of them.

 He took no time in slapping your ass in retaliation for pulling on his hair. “Impatient little slut.” He growled, causing you to clench with desire. The way his deep voice reverberated in the small room made you even wetter.

 Joker was laughing lightly at the scene. It was pretty typical for you to piss Beni off. And the cute little squeaks you let out as the captain spanked you was just even more delectable than your moans. He finally stood, dropping his pants and underwear at the same time as he knelt before you. Beni took his hand off the back of your head so you could lift up enough for Joker to grab you by the hair and pull you up onto your hands.

 He always had an affinity for fucking your warm wet mouth. Something about choking you on his dick felt better than either your pussy or ass. It was definitely his preferred hole, not that Benimaru minded. It was easier to punish you if he had total control of your lower half. You could hear Beni remove himself from the rest of his clothing as well.

 At the feeling of his blushed head pressing into your folds, you began to protest. “Beni, you have to-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as Fifty-Two plunged his dick into your open mouth.

 “How many times do I have to tell you, Sister,” Benimaru spat out. “Only good girls get warm ups.” Then he pushed his impressively large cock into your small hole, filling you up and stretching you out with a familiar but still painful burn.

 Your cries were garbled by the dick in your mouth. Joker was still, watching the different emotions cross your face: panic, surprise, pain, pleasure. The last one had your jaw slackening for him drool rolling off your lower lip as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Despite the initial discomfort, there was no greater pleasure in this life than the Captain’s cock being buried balls deep into your soaking pussy.

 “This is what you wanted, right little slut?” Beni asked, smacking you one last time as he slowly pulled out and rammed back in, forcing you to lurch forward and deep throat the man in front of you.

 You gagged, making Joker laugh at your expense. “I’m pretty sure that’s what she wanted.” He said, given your hair a gentle pull. You struggled to breathe, tears rolling from the corners of your eyes reflexively. You tried to back away from him to give yourself some sort of relief, walls clamping down tight on Benimaru behind you. He let out a small groan at the sensation, though he didn’t budge as you tried to push back on him.

 “If only the Sisters that raised you could see you now. Choking on the dick of Holy Sol Temple’s number one enemy. I bet you’d get off that too, wouldn’t you, Sister?” Joker asked as he pulled his hips back enough to allow you to breathe. You shot him a pitiful glare at the taunt, grabbing his bare thigh and digging your nails into it angrily. They always loved to tease you when you were in no position to defend yourself. It could be so annoying.

 The pain of your nails tearing at his skin was about on the same level as an insect bite. It was really insignificant to him, and therefore it didn’t cause him to correct his actions. He simply tightened his grip on your hair.

 Beni started to move in and out of you at a quick and relentless place. Though he had been kind enough to let you adjust to his size, he wasn��t a total monster. He only started doing with his regular rhythm when he started to feel you relax around him. The muffled moans spilled from your mouth as your eyes rolled back. Any time he fucked you from behind he was always able to hit that sweet stop with his cockhead, the one that had you weak in the legs and gripping him dear life.

 Both men highly enjoyed the sounds of you sputtering and crying for more, your words a garbled mess due to Joker’s length plowing into you at a matching speed. The first few times you three had indulged in one another, the rhythms were out of sync and almost awkward. But now, they had the routine down pat. They knew how the other one worked and could easily find the best way to compliment the other’s thrusts. This had Beni pushing in while Joker was pulling out and you stayed as still as you possibly could so that you wouldn’t impale yourself on either of them in a painful manner.

 It felt like the pinnacle of symbiosis. Everyone works together for their own gain but not at the expense of the other. In the end no one would be left out or at a loss. You’d have to remember to thank Joker later for gathering the three of you together.

 Beni let out a curse as he increased his pace, using one hand to push locks of sweaty hair from his eyes. Sometimes he was convinced that your body had been made for him. He fit inside of you like a hand in a perfectly tailored glove. The gentle squeeze of your kegels anytime he or Joker did something you found particularly pleasurable, whether it was tugging on your hair, slapping your ass, or degrading you with their words, just made him feel so damn good.

 Any time he was buried in you, regardless of which hole it was, he always became devoid of any rational thought. The sex consumed all of you, the tension releasing with the exertion of their hips. Infiltrating the temple, investigating Hajima, life had just become so stressful lately. This was the only time any of you could truly just let go.

 That familiar tight coil was winding itself up in your lower abdomen, the pressure building with every thrust as you took deep breaths through your nose. “Ahh, Sister,” Joker said through heavy breaths, “You better be a good girl and not swallow right away.”

 Of course you knew what he meant, the way his thrusts became a little less in sync with Beni’s and a little more arrhythmic as he chased after his orgasm. He was the first to come, filling your mouth and throat with warm white seed. He pulled away, still holding onto your hair as you stuck out your covered tongue to show him, the white liquid spilling onto the mat beneath you as you were pounded from behind. Your moans were no longer muffled and were loudly filling the small room. No doubt other members of squad seven could hear you, not that you card any more. Konro was probably just shaking his head at his captain’s antics.

 “Now swallow.” Joker instructed as he sat back on his heels. Your tongue retracted into your mouth and you swallowed every last drop that hadn’t fallen from your mouth. The blissed out look on your face was almost enough to make him hard again, your whimpers as you neared your peak, the needy look in your eyes. Nothing else mattered in this moment but the release.

 You came with another loud cry, collapsing onto your chest as your arms gave out beneath you. Benimaru worked you through it, his balls slapping against your clit had you shaking and sobbing at the overstimulation. A moment later he was filling you up with his own seed, gobs of it gushing out around the base of his cock and onto your folds.

 Joker moved to watch him pull out of you slowly so he could observe the gaping, leaky hole. He let out a low whistle at the sight. “Latom,” He said jokingly, folding his hands in prayer as Beni guided your hips down onto the ground.  Benimaru rolled his eyes at his partner in crime, making sure to soothe the bruise skin of your ass with his rough hands.

 “Get some rest, Sister.” Benimaru said solemnly as he got redressed. “Our investigation resumes tonight.”

 You let out a low groan at the reminder, having totally forgotten that you were going back to Hajima headquarters to try and gather more information. “Fine, just let me take a nap first.” You grumbled sleepily. You couldn’t see the soft smile on his face as he glanced at Joker who nodded back in a silent response.

 Benimaru maneuvered you to his futon with Joker’s help, covering you with a blanket so you could rest in peace. Then in a few hours it would be business as usual.

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 23: Dukeceit

I’m very aware it’s October. But I will get all these prompts done!

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 23 - At a certain age you switch bodies with your soulmate for 24 hours. (I may have changed this one slightly, too.)  

Content warnings: kidnapping mention, food/coffee mentions, homophobia mentions (though none is really seen), just so much caffeine.

The first thing Janus noticed when he woke up was that this was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Which, to be fair, was an accurate reaction, seeing as he was in the wrong room.

His initial thought was that he’d been kidnapped, but no, that couldn’t be right. It was just another bedroom, not a basement or a van or whatever kidnappers used. It was a regular, teenage looking bedroom, with clothes littering the floor and the desk, large posters haphazardly stuck at every angle on the wall, and a phone charging on the nightstand next to him. So, definitely not a kidnapping. 

When his mind finally cleared from his post-waking haze, he sighed in resignation. Apparently the universe had decided that today was the day he would switch bodies with his soulmate, on the day he had specifically set aside to study for a huge biology test that would make or break his grade in the class. Hopefully the school took pity on him and let him redo it. If they believed him, that is… he wasn’t exactly the most honest student.

Groaning, he threw the blankets off him and stumbled to the full body mirror on the door, inspecting the reflection. His soulmate was cute, he’d give him that, but it did nothing to disperse the internal confusion at seeing someone else looking back at him in the mirror. It also felt super weird to be attracted to… well, himself, at the moment, technically? He pushed a strand of white hair, dyed lighter than the rest of the black locks, out of his face and leaned forward, trying to decipher if the eye color was brown or murky green, when the door flew open and hit him in the face.

He yelped upon hitting the floor, rubbing his forehead, and glaring up at the intruder.

“Who the hell are you?” He hissed before he could stop himself, meeting the eyes of a very confused guy standing in the doorway. Blinking, he looked back into the mirror, and then back to the newcomer, wondering for a second if he was hallucinating. It took him far too long to remember the concept of twins, mentally facepalming as the other spoke.

“What do you mean, who the hell am I? Really, not one of your best pranks, Remus.”

“I’m not pranking you. I’m not Remus.”

The other merely blinked, staring at him blankly, until a look of realization crossed his face. “Oooohh! You’re his-”

“Yeah,” Janus snarked, getting back to his feet, “I am. Who are you?”

“Uhm, I’m Roman. Your- I mean, his brother. Remus’ brother. What’s your name?”

He brushed nonexistent dirt off his pajama top, an old and ripped oversized t-shirt, and responded, “Janus.”

“Janice? Huh,” Roman wrinkled his brow, casting a look behind him before stepping in and closing the door behind him, “I could have sworn Remus was gay.”

“I’m not a girl, you deflated airbag. I’m named after a Roman god, and I am very much male.”

Roman was at a loss for words, watching Janus approach Remus’ closet and look through it scrutinizingly. “He has good taste.”

“That’s what you call good taste?” The brother asked, peering over his shoulder at the chaos of ripped cloth and mesh and leather. He was frankly shocked there was any left in the closet, seeing as there was what appeared to be enough for a whole other wardrobe on the floor.

“I wouldn’t personally wear it. I’m more classy than that. But,” He picked out a weathered jean vest, adorned with pins and spikes, “Hot.”

Roman tried to hide his eye roll. “You’ll get along with him well. I came up to get you- er, Remus, but now you, I guess. For breakfast.”

Right on time, a woman’s voice carried up through the house, calling for them. Janus shrugged and followed Roman out the door, abandoning his discovery on a chair and pulling up the first hoodie from the floor. He didn’t generally like to wear oversized things, so he was surprised that the almost blanket-like garment was so comfortable. 

“Ah, took you long enough. It’s getting cold.” Janus took in the downstairs area, a small kitchen and dining room in one, leading off into a living room. It was all comfortable, the sunshine raging through the picture window on the wall closest to the table, highlighting the steam rising off the food. 

Janus stood at the bottom of the stairs as Roman took his seat opposite his parents, gesturing to the seat next to him.

“Remus, sweetie, everything okay?”

For a solid second, he forgot that he was supposed to be Remus and just stared blankly at the woman who had spoken. 

“That’s not Remus. It’s his soulmate.” Roman said absently around a bite of food.

Their mother’s expression turned to delight, standing up immediately and engulfing Janus in a hug that he didn’t return, “Oh, welcome, darling! It’s so nice to meet you! Join us for breakfast, and you can go about contacting Remus later. Sound good?”

“I guess.” He didn’t seem to have a choice either way as he was ushered to sit next to Roman, his plate pushed a little closer to him by the mom. The dad was just taking him in, chewing slowly, and everything in Janus was yelling at him to look away. But Janus was never one to shy away from a stare off, so he kept eye contact, hoping that Remus had the same glare that his own face did. He must have, since the man finally looked back down to his plate.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Jeez, did this woman always have to use pet names? 

“Janus.” He responded simply, pulling in his first bite of food. It was good, he’d admit, but his own house never had these kinds of… family get-togethers, and to say he was uncomfortable was an understatement. 

“Janice? Huh, must be weird being in a boy’s body, yeah?” Her face clearly conveyed that it was supposed to be a joke, or maybe some fucked up icebreaker, but he was more annoyed by his name. 

“I’m actually-” He was cut off by a sharp kick to the shin, coughing slightly to stifle a curse, and turned to Roman expectantly. The glare out of the corner of his eyes was something Janus wasn’t anticipating, same with the almost imperceivable shake of his head. The message was clear. Forcing a small smile on his face, he turned back to the parents, who were still wholly focused on him. “Yeah, it’s weird for sure.” 

Usually, lies slipped off his tongue with no hesitation. He had to learn to survive, growing up as he had. But this one felt wrong, and so utterly bizarre, that it seemed to burn the roof of his mouth. If that’s what it took though, and he was very sure that Roman’s cutting him off had been to prevent outing Remus, he could take that.

The rest of the meal was filled with small talk between him and the parents, in which he learned that he wasn’t all too far from his own house, where Remus would be waking up. Even so, he didn’t recognize the neighborhood he was in. It was definitely nicer than from where he lived, though, and he doubted that Remus would know where he was either. Poor guy. 

As soon as it seemed socially accepted to leave the table, he did so, loading his dishes into the washer and dashing upstairs. It was only nine in the morning and he was exhausted, dropping onto the bed and noticing the little glow in the dark dinosaurs on the ceiling for the first time. Rather, the remains of glow in the dark dinosaurs. Remus must have taken scissors to them, separating the heads and attaching them to different bodies. He was specifically entranced by a T-Rex with a Pterodactyl head when Remus’ mother’s words flooded back into his mind, and he remembered that he should probably try to get into contact with Remus. One look at the phone on the nightstand, though, and he was getting up with a groan and padding down the hallway. 

It wasn’t hard to distinguish Roman’s room from the other doors; it was the only one with his headshot taped to the front with a star under it, his name written in bold letters across it like a Hollywood star. Janus rolled his eyes and knocked on it, walking in at Roman’s call.

“Can I use your phone?”

“Why?” Roman gave him a hard side eye from where he was splayed across his bed, a script in his hands that he was most likely trying to memorize. 

“I want to call Remus. And unless you know the password to his phone, I can’t get on it.”

“Ah. In full honesty, I don’t even want to know what the cretin has for a password.” With no further convincing, he handed Janus his unlocked phone and went back to scanning the papers, quietly muttering lines to himself while giving Janus the occasion glance. 

He typed in his own number and held the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“It’s odd hearing my own voice through the phone,” were Janus’ first words to his soulmate. The voice on the other line, his voice, gasped. 

“Oh shit! Ooooh shit! I would have called, but I couldn’t remember my own number!”

“That’s Remus for you.”

“Stop eavesdropping,” Janus snarled, taking a step away.

“If it’s loud enough to hear, is it really eavesdropping?”

Janus lowered the volume of the phone in response, flipping Roman off. “Hi, Remus, I presume.”

“I see you’ve met Roman. Pain in the ass, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“Okay, first things first. You’re hella hot.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Second, where am I?”

Janus chuckled, which sounded odd coming from vocal chords he wasn’t used to. “About twenty minutes away from your house. Did you want to meet somewhere to switch back?”

“Fuck yes. I want my teeth back.”

“Your-” Janus ran his tongue along his teeth, noticing for the first time that they felt different than what he was used to. The general shape, the curve, it was all new, and odd, and suddenly it was all he could think about. “Why the hell did you have to say that?”

Remus snickered, “Whoopsies.”

“How about Edison’s Bakery, on Westland? It’s pretty much in the middle.”

Roman gave him a thumbs up, mouthing ‘good choice’, at the same time as Remus almost squealed in glee. Apparently, he liked the place. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. In half an hour?”

“Yessss.”

“Before you hang up, what’s your phone password?” He physically recoiled at the response, earning a snort from Roman. “I’m not typing that.”

“That’s the only way you’re getting into my phone.”

“Hold on, how did you get into mine?” Remus only chuckled, and the line went dead. Janus sighed and tossed Roman his phone back, hitting him squarely in the chest. “Not much of a conversationalist, is he?”

“Remus abides to the laws of social constructs about as well as he abides to the laws of nature. That is to say, not at all.” 

“What should I wear? When I go to meet him?”

Roman looked taken aback. It made him scowl in embarrassment, rolling his eyes at the other’s face. 

“I don’t know what Remus likes to wear, dumbass. Don’t get a big head.”

“Uh, the ripped grey jeans with the patch on the thigh and Green Day shirt are his favorite. He usually wears something meshy underneath, but-”

“I’m not wearing mesh.”

“Figured.”

Like all of Remus’ clothing, Janus learned very quickly, the Green Day shirt was also full of holes. Whether his closet had been raided by moths, or it was just his aesthetic, he didn’t know. He could see why mesh would go well under it, but there was no way he would stoop to that level, so he threw on the jean vest he’d first seen and went back to Roman’s room to get approved. 

Deciding against seeing the parents again (Janus didn’t understand his instinctual hatred for them, but it was strong), he scaled the drainpipe outside Remus’ window and used his soulmate’s phone for directions to the cafe (despite the disgust he felt at typing in the password), since he still didn’t know the exact directions from this strange neighbourhood.  After deciphering the bus map, he hopped on the next one to arrive, grateful that he’d found enough spare change in Remus’ horribly unorganized wallet for bus fare. 

Surprisingly, he wasn’t nervous by the time he got to the cafe. He’d have thought his nerves would have eaten at him already, telling him to just turn around and live as Remus for the rest of his life, but they were surprisingly calm. There was just something about meeting a soulmate that didn’t mess with him. They were soulmates; they were kind of supposed to be perfect for each other. That’s the whole point. 

It didn’t take long for him to spot himself in the almost empty bakery, propped up against the large window in a way he would never stand, tracing the patterns on the ceiling with his eyes. Janus sidled up to him- himself? The concept was enough to make his head spin- and, ignoring the slightly Inception-esque nausea of looking at his own body, smirked.

“You’re getting fingerprints all over the glass.”

Remus spun to him, grinning widely, and without further adieu, grabbed his hand. Janus’ vision tunneled before going completely black. A sound like an intense air rush overwhelmed him despite the fact that there was no wind, his ears popped almost painfully, and his mouth went completely dry, but when he opened his eyes again, he was staring back at Remus. Actually Remus. In his own body and everything.

“Oh, my teeth, how I missed you,” The taller crooned, making a show of running his tongue across the outside of his teeth.

“You’re odd.” Never before had Janus been so happy to hear his voice.

“That I am,” Remus said with too wide a grin, tilting his head to the counter. “I waited for you.”

“Glad you had the decency.”

“C’mon, Jay,” He tightened his grip on Janus’ hand, who was surprisingly okay with the nickname (despite having punched people for using it before), “I love their energy drinks.”

“Their what?” Janus had been going here since he was a little kid, and he knew for a fact they didn’t have energy drinks. The overtired barista heard him though, shooting him a look of pure disdain.

“That’s what he calls it. We like to call it the Abomination unto God. I don’t know how his heart doesn’t give out from it. One pump of every flavor, five shots of espresso, top it off with black coffee.”

“Is that legal?” Janus asked incredulously.

“Technically, I just ask for how many espresso shots they can fit in a cup. She was the one to limit it to five.”

“He asked a trainee on their first day working. They filled the whole cup with espresso.”

“I was vibrating.” Remus said dreamily, as if the memory was particularly fond. Despite Janus’ protests, Remus ordered his monstrosity of a drink, pouring at least three sugar packets into the cup to his rising horror, and sat down happily. It was almost enough to make him not want his coffee anymore, watching his soulmate take a long glug of the sludge in his cup.

“So, Janus,” He said when he finally put the half empty cup back onto the table, “How did you find my family?”

Somehow, Janus could sense the underlying question, taking a sip before responding. “They’re fine. Your parents rub me the wrong way, so to speak, and Roman’s a bit of a prick, but they’re fine.” He watched as Remus tossed his cup back again, fiddling with the sleeve on his cup, “I didn’t out you, by the way.”

That was enough to dampen the mood, Remus suddenly looking sullen as he stared at his hands. He blinked rapidly, taking a shaky breath before responding with a quiet thank you.

“They think I’m a girl. So that sucks.”

“They’re homophobic as shit.”

“I figured that out. Is Roman-”

“Gay as they come.”

Janus swirled his drink in his cup, watching the coffee stain the edges. “What will happen if they find out?”

“I don’t want to think about that. Getting disowned, at best.”

They both went silent, almost in solidarity. What could you say to that?

“Do you live alone?” Remus asked out of the blue, drinking more and having the audacity to chew the sugar from the bottom of the cup. 

“My mom’s out of town for work right now.”

“Dad?”

“Never knew him.”

“Shit.”

“That about sums it up.” The two of them chuckled. 

“So…” Remus started, finishing his concoction and throwing the cup into the garbage can by the sugar station, startling the barista. “We’re soulmates.”

“What led you to that conclusion?” He deadpanned, watching Remus as he took a slow sip of his coffee. 

“Hardy har har.”

“Yes, we’re soulmates,” Janus agreed, “Must we make it complicated?”

“Eh,” The other said with a shrug, “Ride with the tide, see where it goes?”

“Works for me.” As Janus finished off the last of his coffee, he could see Remus’ hands had started to shake violently on the table, and could feel his leg bouncing up a storm underneath it.

“C’mon, get up,” Janus laughed, pulling Remus to his (somewhat unsteady) feet, “Let’s go to the park and get your energy out. Hopefully I can get you home before you crash.”

“Aww, you do care.” Remus cooed, laying his head on Janus’ shoulder as they left the shop.

“I believe that’s the point, dumbass. Now, I’ll race you to the park. Three, two, one, go!”

Remus took off at a full caffeine-induced sprint to the park just down the street as Janus continued his leisurely pace, laughing the further Remus got without realizing he wasn’t following. What had he gotten himself into?

Nothing he didn’t want, that was for sure.