#unlock my self esteem and let them tell me i can do it and open the other door of believing it

[ikeromantic]

Hiiii, sorry to bug you but can you do a Mozart x f reader angst where MC has pretty low self esteem, but has SUPER bad coping mechanisms and Mozart tries to get MC help but she's very stubborn about not getting it, kinda like Tracy and Mel in thirteen. (if you've seen it ofc) Have a great rest of your day/night😁

I have not seen Thirteen (Reasons Why)! But it is on my watch list ^_^ I have to carefully measure out how much drama and angst I take in or it will eat up my writing! Approx. 1100 words of hurt, self harm, and comfort.

Mozart saw the changes in her as if he were reading notes on a page. The self-deprecating twist to her lips, the way she began avoiding everyone when she wasn’t working. Avoiding him. At first, he tried to pretend not to care. When she brought him his meals in the music room, he gave her exactly what she gave him.

Disinterest. 

They sparred with cruel words and cold looks, and every encounter left Mozart’s heart bruised. He did not understand what he’d done wrong. They’d been growing close - close enough that he held her hand. Shared a glass of wine. Told each other secrets never shared with another. And then after one recital at a noble estate, she’d gone dark on him. Dark and distant as a new moon. 

He remembered the night, if only because he’d found her in the gardens, crying. And she wouldn’t say why. He’d been surprised at her reticence then. Now, he felt it was the first shiver of this shift into a woman he felt he barely knew. There were only sparse moments, unguarded, when he could see his darling looking out her hooded eyes. 

Mozart wanted more than anything to bridge the gap between them. To understand why she was so angry, and what pain lay under that rage. He made a plan, as carefully as he drafted his compositions. The chorus was simple - ask and learn what lurked in her shadowed heart. But the melody . . . what note to begin? What key? What tempo?

He waited until she was in her room one evening, and fetched a few of her favorite things. Tea with a dollop of honey. Ginger cookies. A strawberry candy. Then he made his way there, tray in hand. Mozart considered knocking, but she might tell him to go away. That would ruin the whole plan. So he quietly opened the door, thankful it was unlocked. 

The sight within froze him midstep. She sat crosslegged on the floor in front of a candle. Her forearm was held above the hungry flame, blistering her flesh in a scarlet welt. Worse was her expression. Pained, of course, because the fire burned. But satisfied. As if she deserved what she gave herself. And disgust, a hatred for her own weakness.

Mozart recognized it, because he felt something akin to it as well. In his endless disappointments, his pathetic fears, his failures. He dropped the tray and lurched toward her, unsure what he would do but feeling he must do something. The door swung shut behind him, the tea spilled across the carpet, and the treats scattered over the floor.

She looked up, her face going slack with surprise. “What-” Her words cut short as he extinguished the candle and kicked it out of the way. Despite his smallish frame, Mozart had the strength of a vampire. And he used it now to haul her to her feet and into his arms. 

He did not realize he was crying. Nor did he see her face crumple at this sudden, unexpected embrace. “What are you doing, meine liebe? Your arm!” He gently touched the length of it, running his fingertips over half-healed burns and the scabs of old cuts. 

His words seemed to remind her that she should be angry at his invasion. She struggled to push him away, slapping at his chest and hands. “Let me go! What the fuck, Wolf?”

“No,” he replied, his voice soft but full of an inner steel. 

She slapped him. Hard. For a moment, Mozart saw white, nothing but an explosion of pain as his jaw slipped out of true, straining the tendons and ligaments in his neck and face. If he were a normal man, it would have broken. He’d have a bruise. But his flesh set to repairing itself almost as soon as the injury took place. 

He did not let go. “Meine engel, stop fighting me. Tell me what this is? What have you done? Why . . .” He jerked her arm straight, displaying the injuries for them both. 

“Why do you care,” she spat. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, hot and angry. She pushed against him again. “Just - just let go, damn it! Get out!” The last word was more a howl than language, the sound of a soul in agony. 

Mozart could no more let go than he could cut off his own arm. He pulled her close instead, enduring the scrape of her sharp little nails, the hardness of her elbows and knees. She fought him with everything she had, until she exhausted herself and there were only tears left. 

When she collapsed against him in defeat, he held her. Silent but for her crying. What could he say? He did not know what words could set this right. Could not understand what drove her to this - this mutilation of her precious flesh. The harm to her body and soul, both of which he had come to love so much. 

“Just leave.” Her voice shook, tired and full to the brim with emotion. 

“I won’t. I can’t.” He pressed his forehead to her cheek, frustrated.

“Why not? Wh-why?” 

Mozart swallowed his own pride, his fear of rejection, and replied. “I love you. You are so - so very precious to me.” He kissed her cheek. The line of her jaw. The crook of her neck. “I love you so much I am mad with it. I’ve missed you so, these last weeks.”

“You don’t.” She turned her face from him. “You - you love music. I’m just . . . stupid. Useless. Pathetic.” Her hands clenched, white-knuckled, driving her nails into her palms. 

He lifted the fist to his lips and kissed each finger, slowly prying them loose until he could see her palm. Scored with little angry red crescents. He kissed those too. “You are none of those things. You are so strong, to come here and make a life for yourself. Far from everything you know. So smart, to learn so many new skills . . . my sweet. Meine liebling. Meine perle.”  

She gave a snort of disgust, pain still bright in her eyes. “I distract you. You’re b-better off -”

Mozart put a finger to her lips. “No. Never. I did not realize I was missing something, until you.”

Her eyes searched his face, hope and uncertainty wedded in that gaze. After a long silent moment, she laid her head on his shoulder and clung to him. 

There was nothing for him to do but hold her, and so he did. He sat with her on his lap, stroking her back in careful circles. He spoke too, words of love, endearments from his heart. Things he had never been able to speak until this night, until he realized how close he’d come to losing her to herself.

[flamboyant-king]

that’s meta

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 2

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, more dark elements to come.

Wouldn't mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

On your way out, you stop and grab a few groceries to justify your trip to the mall. You still have a lot to do when you get home and your mind’s already three steps ahead; tidy up, put everything away, wrap the gift, and the most tedious task of getting yourself done up. The reservation you made a week ago fills you with dread.

You pop the trunk and drop in the bags, tucking the watch safely between them. As you close the trunk, a hand slaps down on the metal, startling you. It’s him, that man.

“Excuse me,” he steps closer and you back away, “try not to dirty my car.”

You frown as he gets nearer and side steps you. You look around at the Lexus parked just behind your beat up Neesan. Fuck, really?

You huff and shake your head as you skirt around to the driver’s side, “you take that watch back for grocery money or–” You ignore him as you unlock the car door, “I got some spare change in my glove compartment if you really need the gas money.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap as you swing your door open.

“I might even take my wallet out if you take the coat off. Heave up the tits and–”

You growl and drop into the seat. Before you can slam the door, it’s caught and you look up at the man as his hand holds it back. Panic thumps in your chest and you pull on the handle frantically.

“What the fuck– get–” You hit the horn with your other hand, “help–”

“Oh, shut up,” he snarls and lets the door go. It snaps closed and you jolt in the seat.

He bends down and taps on the window with his knuckles. You ignore him as you hit the lock switch and fumble with your keys. Why won’t he leave you alone? You twist the ignition and the engine chuffs to life.

He steps in front of your car as he reaches under his jacket. He slips out his leather wallet and plucks out a bill. He waves it in the air.

“How about a backseat handie, babe?” You hit your horn again and he winces, covering his ears, “fuck! It’s the best offer you’ll get.”

You hit the gas, lurching forward so he staggers away. He drops the bill and stomps his foot as he stops.

“Woah, woah, baby, I’m tryna apologise here.”

“Get the fuck out of my way,” you holler through the windshield, “now!”

You let off the break again and he stumbles out of your path. You roll on and he kicks the side of your car. You squeeze the wheel as your adrenaline pumps through your veins. As you steer between the rows of vehicles, your tears spill out at last.

You idle at the end of the column and take out your phone. You check your rearview. There’s no one behind you. Still, it’s good to be prepared. Just in case.

You breathe out and leave your phone unlocked in the passenger’s seat. You put your hands back on the wheel and continue through the lot, finding the nearest exit as you keep checking your side and rear mirrors.

As you turn onto the street, you see a flash of dark blue, the same shade as the Lexus. You putter at the red light and look over your shoulder then check your mirror again. It’s not there. You’re paranoid.

You wipe your face and sniff up your fear. You just want to get home and get everything sorted out. It was just one very strange, upsetting encounter. You aren’t going to let it ruin Colin’s surprise.

💎

"Babe, did I tell you how hot you look?" Colin purrs as he pulls out your chair.

You blush, touching your warm cheeks as you sit. You thank him as he sits across from you, the hostess handing out menus and reciting the specials. She leaves you to peruse as you hold your purse anxiously in your lap.

"Getting ready to go so soon?" Colin kids as he watches you wring the strap.

"N-no, no," you say, still uneasy.

You just want to give him his gift. It's what today's all been about yet that shadow follows you, the man from the jewelry shop calling out your extra rolls like you don't already know. At least your husband's kind enough to act like they don't exist.

"This place is nice," he says, "new job hasn't started yet."

"I know, it's my treat," you teeter on the edge of your seat "I've been saving and I just want you to know that I love you."

"Of course I know that–"

"No, no, I wanna show you and I wanna be better. I'm gonna be more active and keep up with things better," you chew your lip and unzip your purse, the fabric chafing your hips as you're reminded of the too small dress pinching your skin, "and I picked up some extra shifts."

You dig your hand in your bag and take out the wrapped box. The shiny green paper catching the chandelier above your table. You put it in front of him and sit back.

"I'm proud of you. Your new job, how you take care of me…"

"What…"

"Just open it," you insist, "please."

He chuckles and looks around, "I hope you didn't spend too much. It's been tight."

"It's not from our account, I've been saving, just don't worry about that."

"Alright, alright," he traces along a fold and jams his thumb underneath. He tears through and your anticipation has you vibrating.

As he pulls away the paper he turns the box over. He sees the jeweler's logo and gives pause, sending a look in your direction. His cheek twitches and he pops open the lid on its hinges.

"Gotta be spiffy for the new job," you say, "do you like it?"

He stares and for a moment, you're scared.

"I love it, but it must've been so expensive."

"No, no, I got a good deal and even added on the insurance so you can get it cleaned–"

"You need a new car and you're buying me a watch," he sighs.

"Colin, I–"

"I know, I know, it's amazing, babe, you're amazing but…" he looks up and his throat bobs, "what did I do to deserve you?"

"Me? What about you? You're–"

Your name interrupts your sentence. You freeze, the timbre throwing you off. You furrow your brow as Colin gives an equally confused look. You slowly look over as a man steps up beside you. It's that man. How does he know who you are?

"Hi, can I help you?" Colin interjects.

"Can I help you, bozo?" The stranger replies, "who the fuck are you?"

"I– I'm her husband, who the fuck are you?" Colin shifts in his seat.

"Husband? Baby, you didn't mention a husband. Oh, look at that, you put your ring back on," the man continues.

"What? No, huh?" You sputter, "would you just go–"

"Babe, who is this?" Colin asks.

"I don't know, he–"

"Don't worry about paying me back, baby, the old man looks like he needs something snappy," he winks at Colin, "jeez, wish you'd said something, I'd have been more subtle–"

"You fucking this dude?" Colin exclaims as he stands, "is that where you got the money?" He throws the watch down and injects himself between the table and the stranger, "you're fucking my goddamn wife?"

"Someone's gotta," the man taunts.

"No, no– I don't know him. He--" you grab Colin's arm and he rips away from you, "please, listen to me, he's just some jerk from the store–"

"And how does he know your name?"

"I don't know. I don't even know who he is, please. I–"

"She calls me daddy," the guy snickers and Colin turns to shove him, nearly sending him into the next table. Half the restaurant stares in your direction.

"Give him the fucking watch!" Colin growls at you, "fucking slut."

He grabs his jacket and storms out. You blink dumbly and turn to snatch your purse. The man moves into your path before you can follow your husband.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" You rasp.

"Like I said, you can call me daddy," he flicks your chin, "Lloyd works too."

You sneer and elbow past him, flinching as his hand bounces off your ass. You don't look back as you hurry away, desperate to catch up to Colin before he's gone. You don't understand what just happened.

[satansdarlin]

seafoam green walls

satan/GN!reader

warnings-overstimulation, crying, self depreciation? Kinda but there is comfort.

    Y/N and satan bought an apartment together, it mainly was their little getaway from lucifer. They had books upon books in the apartment and a small loveseat and bed and an open kitchen. They liked their little space, satan especially it was nice to be able to get away from his brothers and have a place to stay. Lucifer knew about the apartment but there wasn't much he could do as satan had already paid it off and he was the owner with Y/N. In the present Y/N was hanging upside down from the back of the love seat their legs hanging over the back as they stared at the wall in front of them.  

    "The walls are boring. We should paint them"  

    Satan sighed he was used to Y/N’s thought jumping but honestly he agreed with them, the Grey reminded him of the R.A.D. detention room. He snapped his book closed and looked over at them  

    "And what color do you think we should do, my rose?"  

    Y/N tapped their chin a bit thinking a little  

    "What about seafoam green? It's a pretty color"  

    Satan hummed a little thinking  

    "You could paint one of your murals of us in the bedroom too... hm.. alright I'm sold. Let's go get paint, I think there's a hardware store in the shopping district" 

    Y/N wiggled around a bit lifting themself with their legs and sliding off the back of the loveseat onto the ground. they walked around and smiled softly leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek in thanks. Satan's phone binged with a message lighting up the screen, he lifted it unlocking it to see what was sent.  

    "The idiot is wondering where you are"  

    "Satan I told you to stop calling mammon an idiot he already has self-esteem issues-" 

    Satan was already typing though talking out loud as he did  

    "Well not that it's any of your business but we’re repainting the apartment and going to the hardware store together to pick out color swatches. And sent."  

    Satan stood up stretching a loud pop came from his back as he let out a groan. he turned off his notifications and stuck his phone in his pocket.  

    "Let's go, my rose"  

    ☆°•●○•°☆ 

    After some searching and narrowly avoiding mammon who was looking for them, they found the color they wanted and brought it home. Satan was painting the living room area as Y/N took care of the bedroom. They would work ten times faster this way though satan was mostly using this spell which animated the paint brushes to do the work. He heard an exasperated sigh come from the bedroom his eye twitch a bit as it was the tenth one so far and he decided to go check on Y/N.  

    "My rose. Is everything okay you are sighing rather loudly"  

    He found them huddled on the bed staring at the half-done mural they had going.  

    "It looks terrible" 

    "That is simply not true. It is a beautiful piece of art because you, my love, made it"  

    He noticed their head was slightly tilted up and he saw the tear gathering in their eyes.  

    "My dear you can cry, I promise I won't tell anyone"  

    "You'll think I'm weak"  

    "I would never!"  

    Satan was offended they would even think such a thing as he went to their side and took their hands in his tilting their head down.  

    "My light, I would never think you are weak. You are the strongest human I have met in a long time. You are beautiful, strong, smart, strong-willed, hilarious, and absolutely perfect"  

    Tears spilled from Y/Ns eyes as they hugged their lover quickly into a tight embrace he gently ran his hand through their hair reassuringly.  

    "I'm done in the living room. Would you like me to pose would that help?"  

    they were quiet but nodded against his chest taking a deep breath out of his cologne, it had a smokey leather smell to it that they found comforting. they slowly pulled away and began back at their piece, and anytime they would get down on themself softly spoken words of affirmation came from their lover on the bed.  

    Loud banging came from the door as mammon was trying to hide from lucifer but unfortunately for him, satan had turned on music in the living room drowning out the outside noise. 

[animeomegas]

I read the Naruto Omega request with the alpha commenting about how their kid is just like their Omega (and I loved it so much) but what if the kid is just like their Alpha parent? Like the Alpha hit copy/paste of their kid and it's obvious to everyone, especially their Omega parent.

(Hehe, the reverse, interesting! I got a bit carried away in some places, but this was really fun to write! Enjoy~)

Naruto - Naruto knows his pup looks a lot like his alpha, but they're also like him!! He can see it just fine! You see the way they don't like reading kanji? He didn't like reading kanji when he was their age! You see the way they scratch their head sometimes? He does that too! As far as he's concerned there is lots of him in his child and he doesn't know why no one else seems to see it. He will definitely dress them in the worst orange clothes and style their hair like his to try and get everyone else to notice the similarities.

"No, Kakashi sensei, you don't get it! I had to walk past Ichiraku's the other day and my pup started to cry because we were in too much of a rush to go in. They have great taste, just like me, believe it!"

Sasuke - Sasuke didn't think he was the sort to care that much, but he's honestly a little shocked. Uchiha genes are crazy strong, and he's surprised that his alpha's genes are apparently stronger. He also gets kinda embarrassed because he spent his whole pregnancy telling you that the pup was probably going to look a lot like him and he was very obviously wrong about that. But in the end, he honestly kind of likes it. He doesn't have the best self-esteem and he definitely holds a somewhat subconscious belief that the Uchiha bloodline is cursed, so he finds it relaxing for his pup to look so much like his alpha. It makes him feel like they have a chance at a good life, something he didn't even realise he was worried about beforehand. He prefers his pup to look as much like his alpha as possible.

"Huh," said Naruto, giving Sasuke's pup a glance. "If you were an alpha, I'd say your mate cheated on you, but I guess the pup came out of you, so I suppose you're all good."

"Tch, idiot," Sasuke scoffed, gently brushing his child's hair (his alpha's hair that he loved so much) from her eyes. "Don't be so crude."

Shino - He doesn't really notice, not at first, too enamoured by the fact that his pup is beautiful and amazing and someone him and his mate created together. But after a few comments from others, he starts to realise how little of him seemed to be part of that creation, and he gets a bit melancholic about it. Don't get him wrong, he thinks his alpha has amazing genetics and he loves them both but... he's been excluded from a lot in his life and the fact that he appears to have been excluded from this as well. It hurts. Thankfully, as soon as the pup is old enough to start dressing in the Aburame clan clothes, everyone immediately starts calling them a mini-Shino, telling him how much like their father they are etc. He always puffs up in pride and it doesn’t take long for his friends to notice and they make sure to say that as much as possible to him. I imagine his alpha also picks up on it and goes out of their way to point out the similarities.

"I had to pull him away from exploring in the woods today," you inform Shino, having just walked in from a walk with your pup to allow Shino some peace to clean the kitchen. "He didn't like being told he wasn't old enough yet. Much like someone else I used to know~"

"Is that so?" Shino felt like his heart might burst from happiness that his child loved looking for bugs in the woods as much as he did. "I'll have to take him there tomorrow. Why? Because I want him to be happy."

Shikamaru - If his child doesn't learn to appreciate the beauty of a nap soon, Shikamaru may just have to disown him. He's joking, of course, but he's another one who firmly believed in the dominant genes in his clan, so he is shocked to find that there is now a tiny clone of his alpha running around their house. His pup and his mate gang up on him all the time… poor long suffering Shikamaru. Apart from missing valuable napping/cloud gazing time, Shikamaru doesn't care that much, although he finds it distantly amusing that the future clan head looks nothing like a Nara. Maybe they’ll gain more of his traits as they get older, maybe they won’t, they’re his precious little pup either way.

“If I promise to give you some chocolate later, will you come and take a nap with daddy?”

“No, no, no! Don’t want to! Want to play!”

Shikamaru just let out a long-suffering sigh and resigned himself to being awake for the whole day. Troublesome.

Neji – Neji is so fucking over the moon, he can’t even put it into words. The second he sees his child’s eyes for the first time, Neji starts to cry. They have your eyes. In other words, they have no chance of developing the Byakugan and therefore no need to be given the caged bird seal. The weight that lifts off his shoulders is massive. He has no room in his emotions for any sadness that his pup doesn’t look like him, because he knows how unbelievably lucky he got with this.

You sat by Neji’s bedside, pup cradled in their arms, as you waited for him to come to after the c-section surgery.

When Neji’s eyes finally fluttered open, he immediately focused on the bundle in your arms.

“It’s a little girl,” you answered, understanding his silent question. “Either a beta or an omega.”

Neji didn’t speak, simply holding out his arms to take his daughter from his mate. But just as they transferred him his pup, they whispered something in his ear.

“She has my eyes.”

An unremarkable statement to most, but Neji startled and checked immediately. You were right. She had your eyes.

Exhausted, Neji burst into tears, leaning on his alpha for support and mentally thanking every power that may be for this miracle.

Iruka – Iruka doesn’t have any strong feelings either way. He just wanted someone to love and nurture, what they look like doesn’t mean anything to him. In fact, he’s pretty happy that his pup and his alpha are so similar because it makes him feel like he knows how to parent successfully. He knows his alpha better than anyone after all, so a pup who has the same personality and motivations should be easier for him to parent. He acknowledges every comment about how much his pup looks like you with a laugh. It’s true and it is a little amusing how similar the two of you are. (Also, does Iruka take all your baby photos and then stage matching ones with your pup because he thinks it’s cute how similar you are? Absolutely.)

“Here, if you eat all your vegetables, you can have some of this afterwards,” Iruka promised to his pup, brandishing a plate of both his mate’s and his pup’s favourite food. Without even a moment of consideration, his pup started to eat his vegetables.

Iruka smiled to himself. Works every time. (On both the most important people in his life.)

Itachi – Much like Neji, he’s very relieved that his child is unlikely to be able to unlock the Sharigan. The sharigan has brought Itachi very little good and so much suffering, so knowing his child can avoid that makes him extremely happy. Not to mention, the elders pretty much discard his pup as unimportant immediately, just how Itachi likes it, and while they do start harassing him about having more children, he would much rather that they were bothering him than his baby. He doesn’t let himself be disappointed that his child doesn’t look much like him. He has a healthy and happy pup that he loves with all his heart, and who is free from the perpetual harassment from the Uchiha elders. That’s the best situation he could have asked for.

“They don’t look like an Uchiha,” a blunt twelve-year-old Sasuke said, tilting his head at the bundle in his brother’s arms like he’d never seen a baby before.

Itachi didn’t take any offence and laughed softly, still very weak from the birth.

“Well, technically they are only half-Uchiha,” Itachi answered, absently stroking his pup’s head. “And I think they’re perfect.”

[morizoras-cave]

The Runt (Request)

Marvel Cast x teen!co-star!reader

Genre: fluff

Request Description: Hi! Can I request a story where the reader is the new youngest actor in the MCU and how different people react to that and treat them? Thanks :D

Warnings: language

(A/N): this is written as a headcanon, hope thats ok :) 

You were the youngest by far

RDJ was of course involved in choosing you, just as he was Tom Holland

“That kid’s great. Let’s go with her” was all he said and-

BOOM

Your life was changed forever

You were super nervous the first time meeting them all (at some random ass dinner at a super fancy restaurant) 

But you just tried to be yourself 

Which worked out for you because you’re a pretty great person :)

You immediately befriended Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan because of your mutual “hate” for Tom Holland

You and Tom had this dynamic where he’d be the poor and bullied costar, and you’d be the young, confident and superior actress

(Of course it was all jokes, and you both found each other pleasant)

Sebastian and Anthony basically adopted you right from the start

They dragged you into all their pranks because you were so sweet, yet so EVIL

They even tried to do a heist (you were stealing a copy of the script to Endgame)

You had a whole plan Mission Impossible style!

But you failed miserably when Tom ratted you out

That bitch

Most of the cast members (being old and out of touch) asked you for advice on technology and pop culture

In particular Mark Ruffalo and Jeremy Renner

“What is a ME-ME?”

“Y/n, help, I can’t unlock my phone”

“What does this button do?”

And you’d always just mumble something about them being hopeless, old men

But you loved them, and their cluelessness was kind of adorable

Even in interviews when they didn’t understand something, they’d say “better ask Y/n about this later”

Your role in the movie had most to do with Captain Marvel

So during filming you became very close with Brie Larson and Samuel L. Jackson

Which, by the way, you’re so cool, you’re friends with Samuel L. Jackson???

Samuel taught you boss bitch energy

So did Brie to be honest

She helped you a lot with your understanding of women and the world

Smh Brie’s the only who’s taught you ANYTHING

They’d make dirty jokes around you to see if you’d catch it

And when you would, they would scold you for knowing that lmao

“who the FUCK taught you that?!”

AND WHEN YOU SWORE THEY’D FREAK OUT????

“THERE’S NO SWEARING ON THIS PROFESSIONAL FUCKING SET, AM I MAKING MYSELF CLEAR? FOR FUCKING FUCKS SAKE”

“YEAH ALRIGHT”

And then there’s Benedict Cumberbatch

The only person with braincells in this entire cast

Benedict actually worried a lot for you

A lot of the cast did, but Benedict probably did most

He was NOT a fan of the whole “I’m a teenager, but I’m a famous actor, woohoo, time to ruin my self esteem” thing

Him and Elizabeth Olsen (the sweetest woman alive btw) made SURE you were staying away from hate comments

And expressed their concerns often

And you’d always assure them that you were fine

And if you weren’t you’d tell them

Because even though you weren’t super fond of opening up to people, they’d made it clear that they WANTED you to if you got sad :(

Benedict helped you with homework too

AGAIN this man is worried for you

Doesn’t want you getting stressed

Benedict is good at helping you with homework, but you can usually just get Elizabeth to tell you the answer to the questions

Because she is weak for your cuteness

And who can blame her???

Generally, most of the cast treat you very kindly

And they worry about you and are protective of you

Don’t be surprised if they’re AMAZED at your acting abilities too

You’re just there to have fun, just going along for the ride

It’s a wild ride for sure, but at least you’re in good hands with the nicest cast of actors and actresses around

And they would always be there for you

Until their contracts end..

:)

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @eviemarvel @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun​

[eliemo]

Purple Skirt

Summary: Patton and Logan look amazing in their skirts, but Virgil knows he doesn’t get the same freedom when it comes to clothing. 

TWs: past abuse, past gaslighting, self esteem issues

Notes: Thank you to @self-taught-mess​ for giving me the idea to make the skirts angsty. Sympathetic everyone. Taglist at the end

Masterpost

The first time he’d been able to even look at a skirt without wanting to throw up was when Patton had come bouncing down the stairs, looking absolutely delighted in his new suspenders skirt, and Virgil had smiled along with him without even thinking about the memories. 

He was so happy and radiant and god Virgil wished he could do the same. The idea of wearing a skirt around the mindscape, never giving it a second thought, allowing himself to be comfortable and confident like Patton could be was...amazing. 

Logan had donned a skirt a couple weeks later, wearing it as casually as any other outfit, and he’d barely batted an eye when they had all jumped up to compliment him. 

They were all so...comfortable with it. And of course they were, they were allowed to be. They deserved to be. Everyone was, except Virgil. He knew that. 

Which is why he had no idea what had possessed him to start wearing a skirt in the privacy of his own room. 

It was a horrible idea, and his hands started shaking every time he shut his door and put on the dark purple skirt, but...but he liked it. He liked wearing skirts, and the light side’s outfits had reminded him of that. 

He’d tried to wear skirts a few years ago, but the Others had very quickly shut that down, drilling into his brain how selfish and horrible it was to even consider outfits like that an option. 

Anyone else could wear a skirt. Anyone else could wear whatever they wanted. But Virgil didn’t have that right. Virgil was disgusting and useless, and he didn’t deserve that comfort. 

Besides, they looked horrible on him. He didn’t need to look any more pathetic than he already was. He’d been mocked and beaten and screamed at for forcing other people to see him like that, for thinking for a second that it had been remotely acceptable. They’d made themselves very clear, and they hadn’t stopped until Virgil had understood. Anxiety didn’t get to wear skirts. 

Now...now he knew he wouldn’t be beaten if he was caught in a skirt. He knew by now not to assume his family would hurt him, especially not over something so small. 

But he’d still be told off. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be wearing something like this, knew it was disgusting of him to even try. Patton and Logan looked amazing but Virgil was...well, Virgil. 

Still, after seeing Logan and Patton’s skirts he hadn’t been able to help himself. He was careful about it, only changing once a week at most with his door locked, always when he was sure he’d have time to himself where no one would come looking. 

The first few times, he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, taunts, hate, and repulsion echoing in his head every second the skirt was on. He hadn’t been able to keep it on for more than five minutes. 

But recently, he’d started to feel a bit more comfortable. He knew it wasn’t ok, knew better than to risk letting anyone see him, but...with no one around to tell him how disgusting he looked, he allowed himself a few glances in the mirror, and let himself keep it on for longer. 

It was comforting, freeing, and...maybe if it was anyone else, it might actually look good. 

He should have known better than to drop his guard like that.

Virgil had put his skirt on about half an hour ago, closing himself off in his room until dinner, his usual ripped jeans laid out for him to quickly slip on before heading back downstairs. 

He’d gotten too comfortable- too relaxed, lounging on his bed with his music playing and his eyes slipped shut and his head went foggy, losing track of time completely.  

“You in there, Hot Topic?” Roman’s call and gentle knocking didn’t startle Virgil like it usually would, and he groggily lifted his head from the pillow, slipping off his headphones. “Can I come in?” 

Virgil rubbed sleep from his eyes, pushed himself up on the bed, and waved a hand to unlock his door without a second thought. 

He then immediately realized his mistake as soon as the handle started to turn. Shit shit shit--

He scrambled off the bed, suddenly wide awake as his feet hit the carpeted floor, but he didn’t have a chance to get anywhere to hide before Roman was standing in the doorway, eyes going wide. 

For a split second, Virgil let himself be overtaken by dangerous, desperate hope. The light sides had pleasantly surprised him so many times already- it was ok for him to make mistakes, it was fine if he dropped something or made a loud noise or talked too much- so maybe...maybe this was ok too? 

But then Roman opened his mouth, and old instinct and far too familiar fear took over. 

“Sorry,” Virgil blurted as he shrank back, wrapping his arms around himself. “I didn’t...s-sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to--”

“Wait, what?” Roman stepped closer, and Virgil internally cursed himself for flinching. This wasn’t like last time, this wasn’t like last time. “Virgil. Why’re you sorry?” 

He shrugged, suddenly hyper aware of the way the plaid skirt hugged his waist, draping just above the knee to show off the black and white striped stockings. He found himself absently tugging at the end of the material. 

“I...I’m not--” he cut himself off when his voice grew unsteady, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I’m not supposed to, but I- I wasn’t going to leave the room. I know I- that I can’t--” 

“Oh, Virgil of course you can.” Roman’s voice was soft, always so genuine, and this time Virgil didn’t flinch back when the Prince took another step. “You look amazing.”

Virgil’s shoulders hunched on instinct, and he scrambled to figure out if that was sarcasm in the Prince’s tone, because he’d been expecting something far more hurtful. 

“I...you don’t have to, I was just- it was stupid. I- I forgot I was wearing it, I’m sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Roman said, but his smile suddenly dropped. “Oh, Stormcloud you’re shaking.” 

Oh. Virgil hadn’t even realized how bad he’d started trembling, too scared to meet Roman’s eyes despite them radiating nothing but kindness. 

“Hey.” The Prince held out his hands, and Virgil risked a cautious glance up from the floor. “Come here?” 

Virgil let his shoulders drop, but his defenses were still raised, always waiting for the other shoe to drop, always expecting some kind of trap or trick. He still couldn’t help it. 

But he let himself close the distance between them and fall into Roman’s chest, letting out a shuddering breath as strong arms wrapped around him, gentle but secure. 

“You can wear a skirt, Virgil,” Roman said. “Did you...think I would be angry with you?” 

Virgil couldn’t bring himself to speak again just yet. All he was able to manage was a small nod against Roman’s chest. 

“Why?” he asked, voice still soft but Virgil thought there was a hint of something defensive. “I wear skirts all the time. So does Remus. And Patton and Logan have--” 

“I know.” Virgil took another small, trembling breath. “And you- you all look great. Obviously. Everyone can- everyone can wear whatever, I’m not...I just...can’t.” 

Roman pulled back slightly, but Virgil couldn’t meet his gaze. “Why not?” 

“Because I’m...I’m gross, and I shouldn’t...I can’t. Not like you guys, it’s not...it’s not allowed. It’s...probably bad for my influence over Thomas or something.. Plus I, uh- I look horrible in most things anyway, so…”

He trailed off, and his heart sank when he caught a glimpse of the look on Roman’s face. He was watching Virgil intently, head tilted slightly, eyes filled with something sad and...and angry. 

“I’m- I’m sorry.” Shit, he’d been talking too long hadn’t he? He was being annoying and he was still making Roman see him like this and he probably just wanted Virgil to shut up already. “I didn’t mean to ramble, I’m sorry, I’ll change and then--” 

“I’m not upset with you,” Roman said, and Virgil quickly fell silent. “This is...just one more thing they took away from you, isn’t it?” 

Virgil shrugged, back to wrapping his arms around himself like a useless shield. He felt tears spring to the corners of his eyes, face burning hot, and he quickly blinked them away. 

“I guess,” he muttered. “They didn’t really want me to...like myself. It’s still...hard, you know? To get their voices out of my head.” 

He tried not to think about it. He tried to block out the vicious, horrible things that had been said to him every time they’d raised a fist, their words just as powerful as a punch. 

They’d hurt him so bad, and they’d worked so hard to make him hate himself as much as they hated him. 

He wasn’t going to roll over and accept that. Not anymore. He’d get better now that he had people who loved him by his side. It just...god, it was so hard sometimes.  

“I know,” Roman said, and Virgil didn’t think he’d ever heard the Prince sound so grim. “Trust me, Virgil. I know.” 

Virgil didn’t doubt that. He dug his foot into the carpet, doing what he could to remind himself that Roman wasn't upset. The prince wasn’t disgusted by him, he didn’t think he was pathetic, and he wasn’t angry that Virgil was making him look at Anxiety longer than necessary. 

“Yeah, well. Self esteem is overrated.” 

Roman laughed, but he was still staring at Virgil with something sorrowful and uncertain. “Maybe. But if it helps, I think you look absolutely stunning.” 

“What?” Virgil scoffed, even as he was sure his face was bright red by now. “N-no, I...I don’t. Look, I can just change--” 

“Virgil, have you even looked in the mirror?” Roman asked, and Virgil tried not to flinch because those words had been said to him before, just under very different circumstances. 

But Roman was suddenly taking his hands, dragging him (gently, of course) into Virgil’s bathroom, standing in front of the sink and looking in the mirror. It was something he tried to avoid as much as possible, but with the way Princey was beaming at him...for the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to be so apprehensive. 

“How long have you had this?” Roman asked, and at Virgil’s blank stare he quickly gestured to the outfit- an older black hoodie over a white shirt, black and white stockings, and the plaid purple skirt. 

“Uh...I don’t know, it’s just some clothes. The skirt is kinda new, though. I had to make a new one after my old one was…” destroyed, was really the only accurate way to put it. And they hadn’t even waited for him to take it off. Somehow he really doubted that would make Roman feel any better. “Lost. It’s...it’s pretty stupid, I know.” 

“Not at all,” Princey said, and Virgil didn’t know why he couldn’t just give in and believe him. “Just look! You’re beautiful!” 

He seemed so excited, eyes brimming with awe and eagerness, Virgil couldn’t bring himself to protest. Even when he was struck with the familiar urge to avert his gaze as soon as he came face to face with his own reflection. 

It was just...him. Nothing special, nothing particularly good, just plain, dark and brooding Anxiety. But he’d been taught, over and over and over again, to hate every little thing about himself. Just like everyone else already did. 

But that had been a lie, just like nearly everything else he’d been told. The people who mattered didn’t hate him, and they did much more than tolerate his presence. 

He just...didn’t know where to start when it came to liking anything about himself. 

Luckily, Roman already seemed to be two steps ahead of him. 

“You are not disgusting,” he said, completely catching Virgil off guard. “And I swear, if I could I would run my sword through every single person who ever put that thought in your head.” 

“Please don’t.” It came out a whisper, soft and pathetic. They’d had this talk before, countless times, but each time it sent terror shooting through his chest. “Please--” 

“I know. As much as I want to make them suffer...I would never betray your trust by doing something so selfish. It will always be up to you whether or not I go after them.” 

Virgil’s shoulders dropped, relief just as dizzying as the last few times. “Thank you.” 

“But I mean it,” Roman said. “They were so, so wrong. We think you’re wonderful, Virgil. We...we all think you’re amazing. I know you don’t see it, but- but we do. And every day you shine just a little bit brighter.” 

“Princey--” 

“Did you know Patton couldn’t stop crying that first night we found out about what happened to you? He kept it together right until you fell asleep and then he...Logan held him until he exhausted himself. And Lo was...we were all so angry.” 

Virgil couldn’t turn around, instead staring at Roman’s reflection through the mirror. “I...I’m--” 

“This isn’t a guilt thing,” Roman clarified. “I’m saying we didn’t understand. We still don’t. How someone could look at you and not see someone incredible. You’ve been through so much and we’re...I’m honored to get to meet the person you always deserved to be.” 

And, yeah Virgil was definitely going to cry now, fresh tears just replacing the ones he wiped away. But maybe that was ok, because Roman’s eyes were red and watery now too. 

“Back to the point,” Roman said with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “You can wear what you want. Always. My only request is that you don’t outshine me.” 

Virgil snorted, even as uncertainty and apprehension still rested heavy on his chest. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Princey.” 

“Well, I stand by what I said,” Roman announced, clapping his hands together. “You look stunning. And I’m sure the others will agree. Patton will be thrilled to have another skirt-buddy. Why don’t we head down so you can--” 

“No!” 

Roman had already started for the bathroom door, stopping in his tracks and spinning back around at Virgil’s outburst. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but…

But the terror that had hit when Roman had caught him just moments before, the disgust with himself that had just been starting to dissipate a bit...all of it hit full force again at the thought of going downstairs like this. 

He wanted to. He wanted to know he could be comfortable and learn to feel ok again so bad. But he couldn’t. There was no way. 

“Virge--” 

“I can’t.” And now he was going to upset Roman, after the Prince had tried so hard to get Virgil to stop being such a coward. And now he probably was going to be angry- or disappointed at the very least. Virgil wasn’t sure which one was worse. “I’m sorry, sorry it’s just--” 

“Hey, it’s ok,” Roman said, with way more patience than Virgil deserved at this point. “I’m not going to force you out of your comfort zone, Emo. Prince’s honor. We go at your pace, and your pace only.” 

 Virgil stuffed his hands into the hoodie pockets, fighting the urge to pull up his hood. “You’re not, like...mad?” 

“I’m not mad, Virgil,” Roman assured, and smiled. “Take your time. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.” 

“Ok.” Virgil let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, shaky and small, and once again he wondered what he’d done to deserve this much kindness. “Ok. I’m uh, I’m gonna change. I’ll be down for dinner soon.” 

There was no annoyance, no frustration or exasperated eyeroll. Just a nod from Roman and another gentle, understanding smile as the Prince slipped through the door and left him alone again. 

For a moment, standing in his silent bedroom with his black jeans in his hands, Virgil considered keeping the skirt on. 

He wasn’t...he wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t the selfish, horrible, grotesque villain he’d been taught to think he was. 

He had the right to say, do, and wear whatever he wanted. He was just as free to exist and express himself as anyone else in the mindscape. 

It was what his family told him, over and over and over again. And it was what he was trying desperately to begin to believe. 

But he was almost positive that if he tried to step outside right now he’d have a panic attack before he reached the bottom of the stairs. So he took another deep breath, steadied himself, and changed back into his regular jeans and oversized hoodie. 

He wasn’t going to suddenly lose the right to recover if he took his time. There wasn’t a time limit to all of this. And like Roman had said, they’d be there when he was ready.

-- 

It was another few weeks before Roman heard a knock on his door, timid and familiar enough for him to know it was Virgil before he pulled it open with a smile. 

The anxious side was standing in the hall, arms wrapped around his middle as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, shoulders hunched in a defensive stand and...oh. 

He was wearing the outfit Roman hadn’t gotten the chance to see since their talk in his room, complete with the plaid purple skirt that the Prince thought looked absolutely perfect on Virgil. 

“Good afternoon,” Roman said, fighting to sound as nonchalant as possible, all too aware of how big of a deal this was. “You heading downstairs?” 

Virgil took a minute before nodding slowly, chewing incessantly on his lip, still fidgeting in the doorway. 

“Alright,” Roman said, hoping it was at least a little encouraging. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

He could see Virgil trying to compose himself, recognized the slow, deliberate breaths he was taking in an effort to fight against rising panic, and Roman’s heart throbbed at the watery, scared look in his eyes. 

“Could you…” Virgil trailed off, squeezing his hands into fists. “Could you come with me? Please?” 

Roman softened, and stepped into the hallway. “Of course.” 

It wasn’t until he held out a hand, letting Virgil latch onto him and squeeze as tight as he needed, that he realized just how bad the anxious side was shaking. Just like the first time Roman had seen him in the skirt. 

As nice as it looked, it was a fairly simple outfit. Roman had worn far more extravagant things, and other than excited compliments from Patton, no one really looked twice. 

He couldn’t imagine what the others had done to make Virgil so afraid of being seen in a skirt. 

But this wasn’t the time for that. Roman forcefully pushed his anger back down, and squeezed Virgil’s hand in response. He didn’t stop trembling the entire trip down the hall. 

When they reached the top of the stairs, Patton and Logan’s voices began to filter in from the living room, and Virgil suddenly stopped, breath catching in his throat, looking to Roman with wide, panicked eyes. 

“What...what if they--” 

“Nothing bad will happen to you,” Roman said. “I swear it. But we don’t have to do this today if you aren’t ready. Like I said, we go at your pace.” 

Virgil’s eyes were glued to the stairs, tense and unmoving, clutching Roman’s hand like he thought it would be ripped away at any moment. 

Roman was fully willing to stand here for hours if it meant Virgil would be comfortable, but it only took a few minutes for his breathing to even out slightly, some of the tension in his shoulders coming undone. 

“Ok,” he said softly, probably more to himself than to Roman. “Ok. I’m...I’m good. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” Roman promised. “Your pace, Virge. I’m here.” 

They made their way down the steps together, slow and steady, Roman letting Virgil move as fast as he wanted, stopping to take a few seconds to breathe whenever he needed. 

Logan and Patton were lounged on the couch by the time they made it to the living room, the logical side lost to the contents of the open book on his lap. 

Virgil suddenly froze in the doorway, looking up at Roman like he thought the Prince was the only thing standing in between him and certain death. 

And then Patton glanced up at the movement, and Roman couldn’t remember the last time the moral side had smiled so wide. 

“Oh my gosh! Virgil, you look so good!” 

Virgil automatically flinched against Roman’s side as Patton jumped up from the couch, but Roman could see surprise battling with doubt and confusion as he took in Patton’s happiness. 

“I...yeah?” 

And in the middle of it all, a small flicker of hope. 

“Yes!” Patton practically squealed. He rushed over to take Virgil’s hands, and Roman stepped away with one last reassuring smile. “I didn’t know you liked skirts, kiddo! You should have told me!” 

Virgil was searching Patton’s face, probably making sure there wasn’t any hint of hidden disgust in his words, before relaxing ever so slightly. “Yeah, I...wanted to try it, I guess.” 

“You look so pretty!” Patton was bouncing up and down now, Virgil’s hands still in his. “Don’t you think so, Logan?” 

Roman glanced at the logical side still seated on the couch, unsurprised to find a look of pride and quiet understanding.

“He does,” Logan agreed. “The outfit itself is aesthetically pleasing, and the colors suit you very well, Virgil. I am glad you were comfortable enough to try something new.” 

Virgil shrugged, cheeks turning a light shade of red, briefly meeting Roman’s eyes with a small, thankful smile. “It’s...it’s whatever.” 

“We should have a skirt day!” Patton announced suddenly. “Can we have a skirt day?” 

Logan raised an eyebrow. “A...skirt day?” 

“We can all wear our skirts together! Do you think we could get Janus and Remus to join us?” 

Roman chuckled, beyond relieved for the small smile now beginning to overtake Virgil’s features. “I’m sure you could, padre.” 

“Patton, it is simply an article of clothing,” Logan pointed out, completely lost. ���Why do we need an entire day dedicated to wearing it?” 

“Because! It’s--” 

Patton was suddenly interrupted by Virgil suddenly wrapping his arms around the moral side, pulling him close in a tight, almost desperate embrace. 

Virgil so rarely was the one to initiate physical contact, as much as he needed it, always terrified of being seen as needy or ungrateful. From what Roman had gathered, Virgil had been told he was too disgusting to be touched in any way other than violent. 

“Oh, kiddo.” Despite his obvious surprise, Patton didn’t hesitate before hugging back. “Can you tell me what’s wrong, honey? Did I upset you?” 

Virgil shook his head, still clutching Patton’s shirt as he pulled back. Roman wanted so badly to rush over and hold him close when he realized Virgil was smiling through his tears, so clearly overwhelmed but so so relieved. 

“No- no, it’s-” he took in a shuddering breath, struggling to get a hold of himself. “I’m...thank you. I just- I love you all so much.” 

And then he was covering his mouth with his hand, crying quietly as Patton gathered him back into his arms, squeezing his eyes shut but relaxing further when the other two sides hurried to join the embrace. 

Roman couldn’t even imagine the weight that had just been lifted from Virgil’s shoulders, how rewarding acceptance without question must have felt. Especially when for him, every step forward was like climbing a mountain. 

He caught Logan sending him a questioning look, but he quickly shook his head. Later. They could talk it out later. Right now…

Right now Virgil just needed the reassurance. And Roman knew they were all more than happy to remind him they would never get tired of giving it to him. 

Taglist: @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @mygenderisidiot @a-very-gay-raccoon @dawnfire7 @cr4zyart @ray-does-stuff @whydoifeeltheneedtoorganizestuff @bunny222  @the-blue-recluse @bisexualdisaster106 @basilthefourth @snowtrashowl @thefingergunsgirl @trashtm @stubbornness-and-spite @kieraelieson @alias290 @darkch1ld @craz-ewaters @damy-02 @frogdog145 @gattonero17 @madamedraconis @stoicpanther @@love-to-read02 @that-spider-fan-over-there @thatoneloudowl @rich-flower-17 @demigodbookdragon @i-gobymanynames @wyvern-tales @spoopyseason66 @gaylotusthatexists @my-life-is-an-artistic-mess @that-one-fander @alias290 @yalltookmyurlideas @theantisocialghost @dark-strange-daughter @joylessnightsky @nova-galexa @luckymasie @stayarmy321 @starsinger @unhygienic-andy-the-anon @deathdarknessdevils @d-rizzle83 @spoonfullofcrofters @sarcasmremovedsoul @bananabread123443 @alpacadraws @nonbinaryemonugget @espepspes @awesome-and-unique-username @starshinemoonglow @honeybonesvirgil @fandertrash24 @tracingstarlight @sanders-fanders @heartwitchhouse @major-disaster-enby @a-poor-anxious-baby @franticfandomfanatic @the3rdpansexualpanda @a-flying-gay @hermitcreature @darkle-elkrad @coaltail121 @i-really-like-dragons @blagi @the-daydreamers-rebellion

[account-archived]

Indulgence//Snape x plus size OC

Summary: Severus Snape's wife doesn't seem to be enjoying her birthday and he makes sure she has a night to remember. Starts with hurt/comfort and ends in smut and tooth rotting fluff. This fic contains a slight food kink so read if you like birthday cake.

Trigger Warnings: body image, food kink, mentions of low self esteem, and smut.

words: around 2500

pairing: Snape x plus size OC

This is a birthday fic from myself to myself so it is very self indulgent. It is intended for mature audiences, please don't comment on this fic if you are under 18.

Severus was out later than he had meant to be and he cursed himself endlessly as he made his way home. In his arms was a bouquet of red roses and a small box containing a very small cake. It was all he could afford. His salary as a professor barely covered the monthly cost of their shabby little cottage, but he hoped that somehow the small gifts he could afford would cut it. He fumbled for a moment in search of his wand, unlocking the front door and stumbling into the warmth of his home.

"Ophelia," he called, setting his things down on the kitchen table. "Where's my girl?"

He set the cake carefully on the table and flourished the red bouquet as he made his way through the house, searching for his wife. To his dismay, he found her curled up on the sofa wearing the saddest frown he had ever seen. He walked to her swiftly, easing her up just long enough for him to sit down so she could lay her head in his lap.

"What's wrong my girl?" He asked gently, setting the roses down on the arm of the sofa so his hands were free to brush through her tangled blonde hair. "Have you just woken up my love? It's past dinner time."

She huffed and refused to look up at him. "I got up after you left this morning but there's no point in staying up today. Just want it to be over."

"It's your birthday," he said incredulously, his dark brows knitted tight in confusion. "I thought you wanted to get up and get dressed up. That's what you told me last night." His fingers smoothed out her tangles and it was apparent she hadn't even brushed her hair. He didn't mind, he thought she was beautiful just the same, but it was uncharacteristic of her.

"Hate my birthday."

He couldn't help but sigh at the air of brattiness in her voice. "Why is that, my love?" His patience for her was unwavering, if she needed to throw a fit he would let her. "Why do you hate your birthday?"

"I'm old," she whined, hiding her face in his thigh.

This time he scoffed. "You're only thirty. What is actually the matter, hmm? Don't want to tell me?"

She sat up slowly, her hair somehow still a tangled mess. "The older I get, the less beautiful I feel. My body..."

Severus looked appalled. "Ophelia Snape. Don't you even say it," he warned. "You're as beautiful as the day I met you. Even more so now because you're not so scrappy."

"But there's the problem," she protested. "My body is getting old and heavy, my prettiness has faded and you're going to lose attraction for me." She hid her face in her hands and groaned, but Severus remained motionless, completely taken aback.

"Ophelia...your prettiness hasn't faded. It could never fade. The years have been very kind to you," he tried to assure. "If you don't believe that, can you at least believe that I love you more now than I did when we first fell in love? How could you not be beautiful to me?"

She didn't respond and his heart ached. He wasn't going to be able to talk his way out of this one, he would just have to show her.

Gently, he sat her upright and moved her hands from her face, frowning at the tracks of tears that stained her plump cheeks. He shook his head and gently wiped her face dry with the cuffs of his sleeves, his dark eyes fixed on hers. Normally her eyes were a strikingly vivid sky blue, but now, glossed with fresh tears, they were a deep sea blue. Stormy weather and endless depths was all he could see in her gaze and he ached to save her from drowning in her own self loathing.

"I got you flowers." His voice was a soft, low husk, a tone he knew soothed her. "Can I give them to you?"

Ophelia sniffled and managed a nod, her gaze following his hand to the arm of the couch. The ghost of a smile flashed across her face for only a moment and she reached out eagerly for the flowers. "These are my favorite," she whispered, to which he replied with a nod. "Thank you. I'll grab a vase from the kitchen."

She arose slowly from the couch and Severus had to steady her before letting her wander off. His gaze followed her to their small kitchen, watching as she searched their cupboards for a suitable vase. Once she had found one and filled it with water, he got up to join her.

"I also brought you a cake. Raspberry buttercream frosting, your favorite." He was trying to tempt her, but he knew before she even spoke that she would refuse.

"Thank you, I'll save it for later. I'm not hungry."

His jaw clenched in an attempt to keep himself quiet, but as he watched her place each rose individually into the vase, he couldn't hold it back. "Ophelia," he whispered. "You deserve to have the best birthday you've ever had."

She smiled sadly, placing the vase in the window above the sink. "Maybe next year."

No. That wasn't good enough. Severus took a step towards her and placed his hands on her waist, squeezing her softly. "My darling girl," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. "You are a goddess, you are the softest creature I've ever seen. You are the only woman I could ever want and as your husband it is my duty to show you how special you are."

"Severus-"

"Let...me," he whispered against her lips. "Let me show you how much I love you. Can I? Do I have your permission?"

She nodded silently, melting into his touch with a sort of pleasant resignation. That was good enough for him. His hands moved up the curve of her waist, grabbing her gently under her arms so he could hoist her up against the cupboards. She let him fall between her plush thighs, leaning against him so she wouldn't fall back into the sink. His lips found hers and within seconds she was wrapped around him, her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders. He took advantage of this and carefully picked her up, holding her by her thighs as he turned around to set her down on the kitchen table.

"Comfortable?" He asked between kisses, once again falling between her legs.

"Yes," she sighed before pulling him back into her. He stopped her this time and she whined, her hands desperately tugging at the clasp of his cloak.

"I want you to enjoy yourself," he whispered, moving his lips to her neck. "And I want you...to enjoy your birthday." He nipped at the soft skin of her shoulder before pulling back just enough to watch her. "Can I help you do that?"

She nodded and once again his lips found hers. This kiss was more passionate, more desperate. All tongues and teeth, they shared a few gasps of breath as their hands worked to free each other from their clothes. Severus' cloak dropped to the floor, his wife's fingers trembling as she unbuttoned his dress robes. Her hands pushed beneath the fabric and he felt lost in bliss for a moment as she ran her fingers over his collar bones and across his chest. After a moment of selfish indulgence, he pushed her hands away and lifted her arms to strip her of the nightgown she had been wearing all day.

"You minx," he growled, glimpsing at her bare body. "Not wearing anything under your gown. Know what that does to me."

His fingertips grazed the valley of her cleavage, eliciting a shiver from the woman. Deciding not to tease her further, he took handfuls of her ample breasts and squeezed softly, pawing at her desperately. This roused a reaction from her he had not expected. She was grinning.

"That's my girl," he praised. "There's that beautiful smile."

He took the liberty to pinch her nipples, feeling them harden in his fingertips. He tugged on them softly and still she smiled. At that moment, she looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her.

"No," she whined the moment he pulled his hands away from her breasts and he couldn't help but raise a thick brow at her.

"No? Then you prefer I keep my pants on?" He teased, his hands hovering over his belt. She pouted and he came undone, hastily unbuckling his belt and letting his pants drop. The moment he was laid bare for her, she tried to reach out for him and he pushed her hands away. "Not yet. I'm still teaching you how to enjoy yourself."

Her whine of protest turned into a gasp of pleasure as his hands found their way back to her breasts. "Every time I touch you, I want you to remember just how much I love you. How much I'll always love you," he whispered as his hands roamed from her breasts to her stomach.

Ophelia flinched, insecurity flooding through her as his hands smoothed over each curve and roll of her flesh, but he continued to shower her with affection, watching her expression closely in case she needed him to stop.

"Are you nervous?"

She nodded and he stepped closer to her, pressing himself against her body. "We've been married for ten years and you're still nervous?" He teased. Sensing that she was particularly unsure about him touching her stomach, he moved to her wide hips and down to her thighs. Pushing her legs open, he brushed his thumbs over the insides of her thighs and her insecurity seemed to vanish, replaced with lust.

"Good girl, just relax for me," he purred, feeling her melt in his hands. "Your body is so beautiful."

His thumb brushed over her core this time, teasing her clit with the lightest touch he could manage. Her eyes fluttered closed and her mouth fell open in a soft gasp, the sight striking inspiration in him. He began to rub soft circles against her swollen bud, his free hand reaching beside her for the small cake box. He opened it quietly, keeping her distracted with pleasure as he dipped his fingers into the pink frosting. The moment her mouth fell open with another moan, he slipped his fingers past her plump lips.

Ophelia sucked obediently before she even noticed the frosting, then after a second her eyes snapped open to gaze up at him inquisitively. She gave a soft hum but did not stop sucking his fingers clean, her wide eyes trained on him.

"See? The cake is good." He pulled his fingers from her mouth and cupped her round face lovingly, gazing down at her with an expression of pure admiration. "Taste good?"

She nodded silently and his lips quivered into a sly smile. He squeezed her cheek softly before gathering more frosting onto his index and middle fingers, his other hand still working on pleasuring her.

"Is how I'm touching you making you feel good or do you need more?"

"Feels good, but what about you?" She asked softly, trying to reach for his very obvious hard on.

Once again, he pushed her hands away. "This isn't about me, it's not my birthday." His voice was firm but he couldn't help but grin, leading his fingers once more to her mouth.

She accepted him without question, sucking softly as he watched her, his thumb pressing firm against her clit. He focused all of his attention on rubbing the soft button the way he knew she liked, wanting her sensitive before he went any further. From the hazed look in her eyes, he knew she was feeling good so he kept up what he was doing.

"Do you want to taste more of your cake?"

She hesitated before nodding and watched him curiously as he pulled his hand from her mouth. This time, instead of merely dipping his fingers into the frosting, he sank into the confection and returned to her mouth with a handful of, not only frosting but vanilla cake. Ophelia grinned at his antics, intrigued and confused all the same.

"Well?" He purred. "Open up."

Ophelia opened her mouth obediently and he fed her the cake, all the while still stroking her clit. She didn't know which bliss to focus on; the building pleasure between her legs or the delicious dessert in her mouth.

"You're beautiful, Ophelia," he coaxed. "And you deserve to enjoy yourself. You deserve love and you deserve to feel beautiful. And...you deserve cake."

She swallowed thickly, moaning around his fingers as her pleasure mounted. Just when she thought it couldn't get better, she felt the thick head of his cock prod her wet entrance. He sank into her inch by inch and she lowered herself onto her elbows, not able to sit up straight anymore. Once she had eaten all the cake out of his hand and sucked his fingers clean, he was back at it again, scooping another handful out of the box.

"You're making a mess of me, Sev," she whispered breathlessly.

"And it's bloody gorgeous," he growled, carefully pushing a bit of cake past her lips. "And you're going to taste so sweet when I kiss you."

She moaned again. Whether it was a response to his words or to the feeling of him thrusting into her, she did not know. She savored the cake this time, not quick to lick him clean just yet. She was, as he intended, truly enjoying herself.

"Such a good girl," he purred, watching her closely. "My beautiful girl."

His praise drove her crazy and she buckled under her own weight, falling back to lay against the table. Severus took advantage of this and picked up his pace, thrusting steadily into her as he pulled his now clean fingers from her mouth. He abandoned the cake entirely now, using the hand that wasn't between her legs to steady her, gripping her hip.

"Sev-" she choked out. "Sev it feels so good."

He slowed the movement of his thumb on her clit slightly but quickened the pace of his thrusts and she fell over the edge instantly. He recognized her orgasm by the way her moans got louder and her velvet walls spasmed around his cock. Her eyes rolled back and he admired her beauty, though he couldn't help but notice the stain of pink frosting on her bottom lip.

"That's my girl," he cooed, still rubbing her through her orgasm. Once she had finished, however, he pulled out of her and leaned down to kiss her passionately. How sweet she tasted.

"Mmmm," she hummed against his lips. "Did you cum?"

"No," he whispered against his lips. "But this isn't about me, remember? Now let's get you cleaned up."

[starkerscoop]

A Blessing in Disguise

I am very excited to announce that this fic now has a Russian translation! I posted this in October on my old blog, and in honor of having a translation recently written for it, I’ve decided to repost it onto this one!

ao3  

Russian translation   

content warnings: discussion of abortion, issues with body image and self-esteem, pregnancy, non-graphic birth

-

Two red lines stared back at him, the image burning itself into his brain. A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him and he stumbled to the ground, too dazed to catch himself. He couldn’t believe that this was happening.

He was pregnant.

He was pregnant, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, too disoriented at the moment to really tell. He was in his mid-twenties; in his prime and at the perfect age to start making pups, according to society.

But Peter didn’t think he was ready. Of course, the Omega in him had yearned quietly for pups ever since he started going through puberty, but Peter’s priority had always been to make a name for himself in science. He wanted to get his PhD and go on to make revolutionary discoveries; to pave the way for all Omegas and prove that his secondary gender couldn’t hold him back. For years, he’d been competing with Alphas, constantly trying to prove his worth. He couldn’t let all of that go down the drain for a pup.

There was Tony to think about, too. Peter had no idea if he would want to be a father, and he was too terrified to imagine his reaction to the news. He toyed briefly with the idea of not telling him, but that thought was quickly pushed out of his brain.

Tony deserved to know, and Peter had to tell him soon; soon enough that he could still get an abortion, if that was what he wanted.

A knock on the bathroom door brought him out of his thoughts.

“Baby?” Tony mumbled tiredly, voice laced with the thickness of sleep. “Are you going to bed soon? You’ve been in there for a while.”

Peter stashed the cluster of pregnancy tests in the back of the cabinets below the sink. He would have to remember to get rid of those the next day, before Tony could find them. Another knock had him rushing to stand up and wash his face, clearing it of his silver tear tracks.

“Pete?” Tony called, louder now and with more concern, still waiting for a response. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Peter answered, unlocking the door and stepping out of the bathroom.

Tony hadn’t finished scanning him for signs of harm when his nose picked up on the distress radiating from Peter’s body. It was a bitter scent; one that itched at Tony’s instincts, making him want to replace it with something more cheerful at once.

“What’s wrong?” Tony pulled him into his warm embrace, rubbing his back in small circles that bunched up his shirt.

Peter was tired of living in fear. Even if he’d only known about his pregnancy for all of ten minutes, he didn’t want to keep it from Tony for any longer. They didn’t keep secrets. They worked hard to keep their relationship honest, and Peter wasn’t going to be the one to ruin that.

“I’m pregnant,” Peter blurted out.

Tony’s hands faltered but remained on his back, which Peter took as a good sign. He didn’t dare to look up at his face, keeping his own hidden in the crook of Tony's neck. After a few minutes of mutual silence, the older man’s hands resumed their movements.

“You’re pregnant,” Tony repeated. “Sweetheart, that’s - that’s amazing.”

“You want to keep it?” Peter questioned, voice void of any judgement.

Tony recoiled away from him. “Do you not want to keep it? It’s your choice, of course, I’ll pay for the expenses either way.”

“I don’t know what I want to do,” Peter admitted smally. “I don’t want to give up everything I’ve worked for to stay home and take care of a pup. I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove that Omegas are more than pup-making machines. And now I’m pregnant.”

“You don’t have to give anything up,” Tony said firmly. “You can keep studying for your PhD, and get a job after that. I’ll stay home with the pup.”

Peter finally looked up at him. “You’d be willing to do that? I know it’s not - traditional, for the Alpha to be the one at home.”

“Fuck traditional,” Tony declared. “That’s our whole motto, honey. We don’t have to be traditional. And frankly, being there for my pup is a lot more important to me than what others will think of it.”

Peter beamed and threw himself onto Tony, who caught him and stumbled back a few steps from the force.

They quickly learned that pregnancy was not fun. At all. Peter spent most of the days of his first trimester alternating between clutching a trash can and a toilet seat, heaving up the contents of his stomach. Tony was always by his side, smoothing his hair away from his sweaty forehead and making him meals he could tolerate.

The second trimester was a lot more enjoyable. Peter’s stomach had settled down, for the most part, and started forming into a baby bump. He and Tony had completely opposite reactions to that.

“I’m so fat now,” Peter wailed into his pillow. “My body is ruined. I’m going to look distorted forever.”

Tony was patient with him, though, hiding his own glee until Peter was in a better mood. He thought that pregnancy looked amazing on Peter; he was practically glowing with it.

“You’ll be back in shape in no time, honey,” Tony assured him. “You’re still gorgeous as ever.”

Even more exciting than watching the baby bump grow was finding out the sex of their pup. Peter held Tony’s hand as they waited, shivering at the cool gel slathered on his abdomen. Slower than the couple would’ve liked, the doctor turned the screen to them.

They were having a boy.

Both Tony and Peter cried that day. They invited their friends over to the penthouse and threw a small party, accepting all of the gifts their friends brought with big smiles.

The third trimester, and thus the birth of their pup, arrived a lot faster than they expected. Tony had been at a meeting when Peter’s water broke, the latter of whom was in too much pain to drive himself to the hospital, and hobbled over to the bathtub instead.

“Boss,” FRIDAY interrupted the shareholder speaking unapologetically, “Peter’s water broke and he is now in labor.”

Tony’s face paled in less than two seconds, and he was out of the meeting room in less than one. He instructed FRIDAY to call the doctor and raced into the elevator, urging his AI to take him up to the penthouse faster than was allowed.

He found Peter curled up in the tub with a pained expression, whimpering in between each contraction as it came and went. He crouched next to him and offered him his hand, grimacing at the strength with which he gripped it.

The doctor joined them twenty minutes later with a nurse at her heels, ushering Tony to the side to crouch in between Peter’s open legs.

Tony knew that Peter would pull through. His mate was strong, with a will that matched his own. That didn’t stop him from wincing at every cry that tumbled out of Peter’s lips, or wishing privately that he’d never gotten him pregnant, because that way he wouldn’t be in pain.

Six hours after Peter went into labor, his groans were silenced by the loud cry of his newborn, who had finally come out. He was dirty, looking more like an organ than a human being, but Tony didn’t get to look at him for very long. The nurse whisked the child away while the doctor finished up with Peter.

Tony stayed with Peter, running his fingers gently through his damp curls. “You did it, baby. I’m so proud of you. You did it.”

The nurse returned soon after, the baby now clean and looking considerably more like a human. The baby was handed to Peter, who held him with shaky arms and watched him breathe through bleary eyes.

“Skin on skin contact is important,” the nurse told them, draping a blanket over Peter’s naked chest and the baby.

They moved Peter to the master bedroom, which was where he would spend his recovery. The baby would be there, too, resting in an incubator once he was taken away from Peter.

“What do you want to name him?” Tony wondered, laying on the bed with Peter. He’d insisted on having the incubator placed on his side of the room, so that he could watch over both of the people that owned his heart. Peter hadn’t minded, had just smiled at Tony fondly and nodded.

Tony was glad. If he looked to the left, he saw the love of his life, relaxing after giving birth to the baby boy on Tony’s right. He wanted to keep them close forever.

“Benjamin Anthony Stark,” Peter told him. “After the most important men in my life.”

Tony swallowed harshly. He’d never imagined naming his child after himself, or having someone else want to do so. He didn’t think there was much to live up to. Peter clearly didn’t agree with that, and there was his proof.

“Ben,” Tony whispered to himself, gazing at their little boy.

It sounded perfect.

[whiskery-louis]

Body Image

Calum Hood x Reader

Warnings: Body image, body shaming, self esteem issues, angst

A/N: This is my first Cal writing. I've been reading a lot about him and I just love him so please enjoy BestFriend!Cal

Word Count: 2.2k

I sighed turning around to look at myself in the mirror once more, my mouth twisted to the side as I studied the third outfit I had tried on. I wanted to believe I looked as good in it as Katie had convinced me when we were at the mall. I wiped at the tear that threatened to fall down my face. I don’t know why I agreed to go out tonight anyways, I thought it would help me feel better after the break up but as I looked at myself in the mirror all the things he said to me were running through my head.

My body didn’t fall under society's standard notion of beauty. I was always a little bit heavier than most, my stomach being a bit rounder, my thighs a bit larger and my arms a bit jiggly. It was always something that I struggled with, but being told by someone that you love that they are breaking up with you because of your weight will really mess with you. I used to enjoy buying new clothes and getting dressed up, but now all I see are my flaws. I did what I could to keep my mind off my body image, but it's not easy with social media being a constant reminder. I spent most of my days in t-shirts and sweatpants praying the baggy clothes wouldn’t call unwanted attention to my stomach.

I sighed again as I pulled the shirt over my head and replaced it with a t-shirt. I didn’t feel up to going out anymore, being unable to like anything on my body really put a toll on my mental health.

I sent Katie a quick text to let her know I wanted to stay in. I knew she was worried about me, but she was the only one who knows why Dalton really broke up with me and didn’t have the heart to drag me out to a bar when she knew how much I was struggling. Katie tried to convince me to tell Calum but I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else pitying me. Everyone else though that Dalton and I broke up over commitment issues and I let them think that. It was less embarrassing than the truth. Katie tried to tell me that Dalton was the one who should be embarrassed for how he treated me at the end, but whenever she tried to bring it up I changed the subject. I wasn’t ready to admit that I believed everything he said about me.

I trudged down to the kitchen to find something to eat, I was really craving some comfort food but after being upset with how I looked in every outfit I opted to make a salad. I plopped down on the couch mindlessly scrolling through Netflix before settling on New Girl. My pity party was interrupted by two quick knocks on the door. I hoped they had the wrong apartment, but two more knocks quickly followed. I groaned as I stood up and trudged my way to the door. I looked through the peephole and saw Calum in the hallway holding a pizza.

“Go away, I’m not in the mood,” I called through the door.

“Come on Y/N open up! Katie told me you canceled again tonight. I”m not letting you spend another Friday night alone.”

I mentally cursed Katie, vowing to send her a strongly worded text later.

“I’m fine Cal really, just had a long week.”

“I’m not leaving Y/N, and if you don’t let me in I’ll just sit out here singing all night.”

I hit my head against the door knowing Cal wasn’t going anywhere. I unlocked the door and walked back to the couch knowing he would hear it and come in automatically. I picked up my salad, taking another bite but I lost my appetite at the smell of the pizza wafting from the kitchen.

“Where are all your plates? Nevermind I’m bringing the whole box in, I’m starving anyway.”

He set the pizza down on the coffee table and threw his body on the couch next to me, nearly crushing me under his weight.

“Cal...can’t...breathe,” I muttered. “Why are you crushing me?”

“Missed you, we’ve barely hung out since I got back from tour. You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Have not.” I pushed at his chest and managed to create enough space between the two of us that I was able to scoot back to the other side of the couch. Calum sat up and pouted at me, while I just rolled my eyes at him.

“Have so, ever since you broke up with Dalton you’ve shut me out. I’ve tried to give you space but I can’t standby anymore knowing that you're hurting and do nothing to help.”

“Cal I really am okay, I just needed time to process.” I glanced over to him to see that he was staring at me with a look of disbelief on his face.

“You know I can tell when you’re lying. If you’re as fine as you say you are then why haven’t you touched the pizza I brought. I got it plain with extra cheese and a large side of ranch. You’re favorite.”

I shrugged, “I’m not hungry,” I mumbled, not even believing my own lie. “I had a salad.”

“You mean the one sitting there that looks barely eaten,” he looked at me, his eyebrow raised, clearly seeing through my bullshit. “Katie told me that there is more to your breakup with Dalton than you’re leading on. Plus talk to me Y/N, I’m worried about you.”

I sighed and pulled the nearest blanket over my body, I felt nearly naked under Calum’s stare. He always had a way of knocking down my defences and convincing me to let him help. I didn’t want his help this time though, I was too scared to admit that Dalton was right about me, I had barely admitted it to myself, let alone tell Cal. We sat there in silence, him waiting for me to speak and me playing with the edge of the blanket praying he would drop it.

“Hey,” Cal reached out and placed his hand on my knee, “you can tell me anything you know that right?”

I don’t know if it was the look of concern in his eyes or the comfort from the circles he was rubbing on my knee but my walls were slowly breaking down like they always did around Calum.

“I lied to you about the breakup like Katie said, we didn’t break up because Dalton couldn’t commit. He’s the one who broke up with me.” Cal shot me a confused look, not knowing why I would lie to him about something like this, but he didn’t interrupt me. “He told me that I gained a few too many pounds the last few months and didn’t listen when he told me to eat better or get out more. He said he couldn’t be with someone who let herself go and that he wasn’t attracted to me anymore.”

“What a fucking ass, I’m so sorry that he said that to you Y/N. I’m going to fucking kill him,” Cal spoke through his teeth, trying to quell the anger rising in him with every word I spoke. I could tell that it was taking everything in him to not run out of the house in search of Dalton to beat him for hurting me like this. And it was the last thing I wanted.

“Cal it’s fine,” I shrugged, pulling the blanket closer to me. “It’s not like he’s wrong anyways.” I whispered under my breath instantly regretting it when I realized Calum heard me. His head snapped to me, jaw slightly open in shock at what he just heard.

“Y/N you know that everything that prick said about you was wrong right? You have to know how beautiful you are.”

A scoff escaped my lips before I could stop it. “You have to say that Cal, you’re my best friend but please don’t lie to me. I don’t deserve your pity, it’s why I didn’t want to tell you. He just confirmed what I’ve always known deep down. I’m not worth it, I’m not beautiful and I just have to accept it and move on with my life.”

It was silent after I spoke. I could see the gears turning in Cal’s head as he processed what I just said. This was exactly why I had been avoiding him since the breakup, I knew once we talked about it I would admit that I believed everything Dalton said about me. It was the worst part of the breakup, knowing that my deepest insecurities came to light and were thrown in my face like that.

Cal moved slightly on the couch, moving his hand from my knee to take the blanket out of my hands. He pulled the blanket off me and tossed it on the floor. He wrapped his one hand around mine, moving the other to my chin so I was looking into his eyes as he spoke.

“Y/N please believe me when I say you are beautiful. Inside and out. I love everything about you and I’m not just saying this as your best friend. Dalton is a dick for saying those things about your body and they are so far from the truth. I know you’ve always struggled with your body image but believe me when I say that I love your body. I love the wrinkles around your eyes when you laugh, I love that you aren’t as skinny as those instagram models, it shows that you’re real and that you take care of your body by eating. I love that you can put a whole pizza away faster than me and the guys, it’s one of my favorite memories. I love your stretch marks, they are a unique map of only your body. I love how your body feels like it was made for me. I never want you to hate your body because it is an amazing thing. Fuck Y/N can’t you see that you are perfect to me, every last inch of you. Your eyes, your hand give the best massages, fuck even your boobs are fucking perfect-”

Calum’s eyes widened as he realized he got a little carried away with his speech praising my body. I’m sure my face mirrored his. I never knew Calum felt this way, never imagine this would be his reaction when I told him the truth about the breakup. I couldn’t help the small smile that was forming on my lips. There was a new tension in the air that wasn’t there before. It was a new feeling between Cal and I, but there was something so natural about it. Deciding to cross the line, I reached out for his free hand. His eyes narrowed at my touch, trying to decipher what I was going to do next. I looked him in the eyes as I slowly pulled his hand closer to me, placing it on my side just below my breast.

“What were you saying about my boobs being perfect?”

He eyed me tentatively, trying to gauge my response to what he just said. “Y/N what are you-”

I cut him off. “Calum thank you for saying all that. You don’t know how much that means to me. I realized Dalton was a dick but it was still hard to hear. But you-you always know just want to say to make me feel better. It’s something I still have to work on and I think having you by my side will help. I think we both knew this was going to happen one day Cal. It’s always been you and me, so why can’t one day be today? So again, what were you saying about my boobs?”

My breath hitched as Cal moved his hand slowly up from my side to cup my breast.

“I said your boobs are fucking perfect, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve pictured them bouncing as you ride me.”

Now it was my turn to pick my jaw off the floor. I wasn’t expecting that comment to come from him. He chuckled as his lustful eyes met my shocked ones.

“I’m going to show you just how much I love your body.”

I woke up the next morning, rolled over and collided with a solid body. I opened my eyes and saw Calum looking down at me with a small smile on his face.

“Good morning beautiful,” he moved his head to give me a peck on the lips. “How did you sleep?”

I smiled back at him, “Good, glad last night wasn’t a dream.”

“How’re you feeling this morning?”

I snuggled closer to his chest, “I feel much better than I did yesterday. I feel like I could learn to love myself with your help.” I pressed a kiss to his neck.

“I like the sound of that. Maybe I can show you how beautiful you are again after breakfast.”

[usmsgutterson]

heeeey!! could you please write something with a protective inej??? i love your work btw

thankss😫😆

More than Saints- Inej Ghafa 

FIRST INEJ PIECE WOOT WOOT

Thank you s o m u c h for requesting this, I’ve been wanting to write for Inej but I just couldn’t figure out how to, so thank you for the opportunity! I hope you like this!

The reader is AFAB, by the way!

Fic type- angst

Warnings- mentions of Tante Heleen, the reader worked at The Menagerie

You’d worked with Inej before Kaz had paid off her indenture, and on her final night, she promised she’d find a way to get Kaz to cave, and if he wouldn’t, she’d find a way to get you out, no matter the price she paid.

She came to your window one night, finger pressed to her lips as she pushed it open from the inside. “Hi,” she whispered. “Are you all right?”

It’d been a rough day that day. So many clients, so many memories that your brain was already working on repressing. The day had left you exhausted. 

“I’m fine,” is what you whispered back. “Absolutely fine. What’re you doing here?” 

“Kaz and I have a plan,” she slid in, and once in a close enough vicinity, one of her thumbs gently brushed across your cheekbone. “We’re going to get you out. You’ll become one of The Dregs!” 

“I’m of no use, though,”

“You’re quick on your feet, whip smart and logical,” Inej whispered. “Trust me, I’ve got everything planned to the letter.” She pressed a quick, small kiss to your lips before jumping up to the window again. 

“I’ll be back in two hours. Pack up what you need, but be ready, okay?”

“Absolutely,” you whispered, curiosity clouding your mind at how exactly all of it would play out. “Two hours.” 

“See you then, Y/N.” And, just like that, she was gone.

You occupied your time by sleeping for an hour and the rest of it packing up the few shirts and pants that Inej would slip you when passing The Menagerie on late night runs, changing into a pair of leggings and a sweater that you were almost completely certain was one of Jespers or Wylans, the other two of the crows that you’d met, aside from Kaz or Inej, but it didn’t matter. At least you weren’t half naked and dancing for one of Tantes late night customers. 

Inej, sure enough, was at your window again two hours later, smile on her face as she gestured to your doorknob. “It’s unlocked,” she whispered. “Go down the hallway to the left. Jesper is waiting at the end of it!” She leaned in, just long enough to press a kiss to your forehead before setting you off running to the door.

You kept an even pace as you moved through the hall, spotting Jespers face and just about crying as the reality hit. You’d be free from The Menagerie, free from Tante Heleen and the stench of every disgusting man throughout the Barrel, and you’d be with people you knew, the girl that you loved. You felt happiness, real and true happiness, for the first time in what’d felt like ages.

Jesper caught sight of your face as you drew nearer, pulling you into a bone crushing embrace when you were within his arms length. 

“C’mon,” he kept an arm around your shoulders, leading you down the hallway. “You’re one of us now, and we’ve got a goat back at The Slat!” You let out a huff of air that Jesper supposed was a laugh.

“A goat?” You questioned. Jesper nodded, leading you down a set of stairs and onto a landing. 

“His name is Milo, he’s an honorary member of The Dregs and his fur is the softest thing in the world! Is that my sweater?” 

“Inej slipped it to me a few weeks ago,” you murmured. “Said you wouldn’t miss it. Sorry,” your voice was sheepish as he lead you down another hallway, where you saw Kaz and a brunette woman standing guard at it’s end.

“Absolutely none of that! Don’t say sorry, love, it looks better on you anyway!” He tossed a nod to Kaz and the woman before setting back down the hallway, toward the stairs. 

“Nina Zenik,” the woman introduced. “Please, god, tell me that Inej has said that you’re stunning?” You laughed, nodding as the three of you set down the hallway.

“I get complimented pretty regularly,” you mumbled. “Stunning seems her favorite word when it comes to me, though.” You turned to look at Kaz.

“Why rescue me?” You murmured. “Isn’t one spider enough?”

“Two spiders means double the intel,” Kaz murmured. “And I’ve seen you when enraged. I could use those talents.”

“The talent to gut a man and not regret it for a second?”

“Yeah,” Nina chuckled as the three of you found another staircase, stopping right in front of it.

“All right, Nina, you get them outside,” Kaz murmurs. “Wylan and Jesper are probably already waiting at the checkpoint, and, well, knowing how much Inej loves Y/N, it could get pretty ugly if she doesn’t contain herself.” Nina nodded, and the two of you took off down the stairs, getting outside in mere minutes.

Inej was confronting Tante Heleen already, and all you wanted to do was be there for her, see it happen, watch Tante Heleens cruel composure melt into nothing, like she’d done to your self esteem so many times before. 

You moved just a tad bit too slow, and Heleen caught sight of you, pointing wildly and shouting at Inej and Kaz, who seemed to take it decently, though you knew rage on their faces like you did the feeling of loneliness. 

One of Tantes big, burly men wrestled you from Ninas grip as you shouted, thrashing around as you were brought back inside The Menagerie. 

“Put them down,” Inej’s tone was stern, aggressive. “Put them down, now.” 

Kaz met your gaze and saw the fear in your eyes; everything had felt like it’d be okay for a few solitary minutes, but entering The Menagerie again took that feeling away in seconds.

He lightly jabbed Inej’s side with his cane, nodding to you as the big burly men shoved you onto the floor. Her heart broke as she registered the tears that’d begun pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill a waterfall down your cheeks. 

“I need them,” Inej tried to make herself sound like Kaz, like greed was the closest thing to a saint that she believed in, and surprisingly, it worked, for the most part. “They’re of use to The Dregs.”

“You, Inej Ghafa, do not get to take what is mine.”

“I do, if I want it,” the tears fell, but you managed a slight laugh at the clear greed in her tone. “But no indenture is going to paid off. Check the second drawer, where you kept Y/Ns doccuments, please.” Hesitantly, Tante did, rummaging around in the drawer for a couple of long lasting minutes as Inej used the opportunity to get closer to Tante, something she’d never have done if it weren’t you in question.

“You can’t find them, can you?” You picked yourself up off the ground, forcing yourself on your feet to stand beside Kaz, keeping a few centimeters of distance between the two of you so as not to accidentally touch him. You watched Inej with both fear and amazement clouding your thoughts; you’d never seen her so vicious looking before. 

She pulled a knife from a sheath located on her right thigh, pressing the point of it underneath Tantes chin.

“Kaz, the doccuments?” She didn’t turn to look at either of you, though Tante looked terrified. 

“Stolen three days ago, both the real things and every single backup copy that Tante had thought to make. Inej plans to use them for kindling tonight,” He glanced between the two of you, and you swore you could’ve seen the hint of a smile on his face. 

“A get to know them kind of thing. I hear s’mores will be involved.” 

Tante met your eyes and began to beg.

“Please, Y/N! You know I love you! I care--I care about you, don’t I? I give you a room to sleep in and clothes to wear and I--” Inej was the one to cut her off.

“Speak to them ever again and I will cut you, limb from limb, and have this place turned into ash.” She moved the knife from Tantes neck, forcing it in and out of both of Tantes hands before wiping it clean on her coat and putting the knife back into the sheath at her leg.

She hooked her arm into yours and the three of you walked out, Kaz in front, the two of you trailing a bit behind.

“I love you,” Inej whispered. “You know that?”

You nodded, intertwining your fingers and giving hers a gentle squeeze. “More than saints?” You asked as she rested her head on your shoulder. 

“More than saints, Y/N.”

[qslovebot]

Doubt, Denial, and Fucking Destiny: Raymond Wadsworth

Summary: After reconnecting with Raymond when he returns to town, he finds it hard to believe that he was your childhood crush due to the many years he spent believing he was unlovable. Your crush on him never left, it was simply buried, so you prove that you did like him and maybe still do?

Pairing: Raymond Wadsworth x Short Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: alcohol presence, mention of past verbal abuse and bullying, mention of weight loss, self-doubt, low self-esteem, kissing.

Raymond Wadsworth never thought himself deserving of any sort of proper love.

He grew up in a home where every day his stuck-up father pointed out his mental and physical flaws, his wrong choices, and his past and present failures with no hesitation or apology. Constantly under scrutiny and judgement at home, school wasn't much better. It may have even been worse.

The kids would poke fun at Raymond for his looks, his weight being the main target of most of the insults and he dug himself deeper by eating his feelings away.

To top it all off, he spent his childhood believing that he could see and communicate with the dead. With ghosts, to be more specific. And his father called him crazy for it all. You heard whispers of it around the school.

Raymond's childhood was hard, you knew that then as you knew it now, watching him prepare to drink himself away as you watched him down chocolate milk after a beating by older kids in the park years earlier. Many... years earlier. Too many- was this even Raymond?

He was taller now, maybe 6'1, nearly 6'2? He was much thinner now, but he looked decently healthy and his hair was still just as unruly as it had been all the way back then. He was, in fact here and he was also very very very attractive. To you, maybe. He'd always been attractive, even before he became who he was before he returned to the town.

Being about four years younger than him, you had admired him endlessly and achingly as a child. To be frank, he never took notice of you that way, only seeing you as the annoying little brat with the pigtails who chased him around the playground back then.

It was stupid that your heart skipped a beat the moment you knew it was truly him. It had been decades since you last saw him and you'd had many unlasting relationships since then. Here was your crush from when you were merely five and your heart fluttered? Stupid. Ahead of yourself.

But you wandered over to him anyway, sitting down next to him on the barstool. "I thought you had a blood pressure issue," you started, smiling as he froze the hand that held the shot he was about to throw back.

"Yeah... how did you know that?" He questioned before actually looking at you. The moment he lifted his head to get a glance at who was speaking to him, it was like all his organs stopped working at once. He choked on pure air at the sight of you. You couldn't help but smile.

He continued coughing and you laughed, "I don't think taking that shot is a good idea anyway... do you need water, Raymond?" You knowing his name set off a new round of coughing and you and the bartender nodded at each other as they placed a cup of water in front of Raymond.

You watched him try to recalibrate his respiratory system and eventually, he regained his breath, looking up at you through curls. "I'm sorry, uh, hot girls- they usually don't just walk up and talk to me."

"Aaand hot men usually don't choke on absolutely nothing when I approach them, so there's a first time for everything." You smiled, folding your hands and resting them under your chin. It seemed like it took him an extra second to process that you had just called him hot. He was just as shy-seeming as he was then. It seemed like he was also trying to place your face. "You don't remember me?"

"I think I do, I just can't place where..."

"I'll jog your memory," you suggested, immediately reaching to pull your hair into ponytails that stayed put with your fists. You lowered yourself a little and nodded, pulling your mouth to one side to mimic the way you looked so long ago and his jaw dropped.

"(Y/N)! No way! Oh my god, you're still 5'2!" He gasped, running a hand through his hair. So he did remember you after all. "-And you have boobs now, that's- that's great." His eyes drifted and you snapped to get his attention back up to your face. "You look- you look great, holy fuck."

"Thak you, so do you," you shook your hair out again and bit your lip. "You look so much happier."

"You can say skinnier," he shrugged.

"I would say skinnier if that's what I meant, Raymond, but I meant happier." He seemed a little bit surprised. "I see that you are but frankly it never mattered to me. I liked you anyway."

His eyebrows narrowed, "Liked me anyway? Weren't you like... five when we met? I was... nine-ish. And you... you would follow me around, was that a crush?"

"It was," you admit, a small smile tugging your lips again, eyes fluttering from his hands back up to Raymond, who looked baffled. It made sense that he thought nobody liked him back then. Your reveal to liking him then seemed to grip him with shock well enough. Wait until he understood just how long. "-And it lasted until I was thirteen and you were... seventeen. I think that's around when you went, wasn't it?"

He nodded, eyes drifting. You snapped again and his mind snapped back to where it should be. "Y-yeah. When did all this... happen, because when I left you were..."

"Conventionally unattractive." You finished. "Well there's one word to sum it up and it's puberty. It hit me, it hit you and now we are right back where we started and you seem just as likeable."

"And you're far less annoying..." he trailed off. "I cannot believe you're still here."

"I can't believe you're back." You grinned. You could see his interest in you as he sat there. Was he wearing pyjamas? It all seemed to add up. You were here, he was back, and your heart kept fluttering oddly. So you spewed it, "I think my crush for you is still here, oddly enough."

It was fun to see him joke on air again. "You still like... me?" He seemed so shocked to hear it. "Woah woah woah, no. You can't have my wallet. Or are you a prostitute now?"

"Not a prostitute, I was trying to hit on you while being sweet at the same time," I sighed, downing the shot Raymond had in front of him. He didn't seem to care much about it. He was swallowing hard now, sharp cheekbones flushed.

"Genuinely trying to hit on me?" He questioned again. He really didn't believe you, huh? But it made sense, what with his upbringing. The overweight kid who saw ghosts- the reputation didn't fare well. So you decided maybe,

"We should get out of here, Raymond. Those bitches over there are still picking on you and you can't really drink without your blood pressure killing you, so I say we just go for a walk." You suggested. His long fingers rested on the edge of the bar and you let your smaller hand close around his. "I've paid for my drinks and I will pay for yours." You slapped money down on the counter for the bartender.

"A walk?" Was all he could really say before you led him out of the bar and into the night. You could only imagine what was going on in his mind. An ugly annoying girl from his childhood was now hot and socially decent and now he finds that girl still likes him and always liked him, even at his worst... Must be exciting.

The breeze was cool outside, but the air around the flow was warm. You finally answered, once a few steps from the bar entrance. "Yes, a walk. Bar settings tense you up, look at how loose you are now. You don't even notice you're still holding my hand." You teased, giving his hand a squeeze before interlocking your fingers with his. He turned pink again and it could be seen even in the flickering lights of the street.

"I suppose I'm confused... You don't think I'm gay?"

You narrowed your eyes, "Are you?"

"NO!" He shouted back. "Why does everyone think that?"

What the fuck? "I never suspected you were but looking at you, maybe it's the ascot."

"The ascot?"

"The ascot." You replied with a small smile. "I don't think you look gay... I don't even think it's possible to look gay. You do look cute though. Maybe those other bitches who called you gay are gay."

He nodded, halfway through untying it. Both of you kept walking down the sidewalk. "Thank you." I could tell he was trying not to say too much now. He was doubting himself.

I sighed, swinging Raymond's arm over my shoulder, fingers never unlocking. I could feel his hand trembling a little. "Raymond, I know this was sprung on you, but I did and do like you. I have yet to properly figure who you are now, but I do." You made sure to look up at him so he knew you were serious.

His mouth was open as if he wanted to speak, but couldn't. Until he did. "Are you sure you're not a prostitute?"

Holy fucking shit. You began to rant, "No, Raymond! I'm just a girl. I'm just a girl and I like you and I want to maybe know you before you head off again. This whole town is a fucking gravity pit, a fucking black hole and I would like for once, for someone to want to talk to me. AND, I would like nothing more than for you to know that people are in fact capable of liking you romantically, despite everything your asshole father may have told you, or the kids at school who couldn't see your worth then or now and I-"

He spun you, fingers still intertwined and suddenly, his lips were on yours, and he wasn't particularly sweet or gentle. In fact, it was ravenous. He pushed you against the wall of the building you were passing. It seemed like the slightest bit of reassurance, the slightest bit of someone showing him how much he was worth, set him off. But you didn't really care.

Raymond's shaking hands slid into the roots of your hair, holding your face as he kissed you with great passion. With muffled 'mmmm's and wandering hands, you gripped him by the ascot, holding him down to your height.

But you couldn't kiss him much longer. "Raymond, I don't want to take advantage of your insecurities," You mumbled against his lips. You had been more confident earlier, but he had you practically unravelling. "I've always liked you, I have, and I'm so glad we just kissed, but-"

"My heart is beating too fast to properly hear, but I know you're sweet as hell and I really just want to pretend we're teenagers and make out for forty minutes nonstop, is that okay?" He interrupted with rambling, and it was more than clear what he wanted.

"How about forty-five, ghost boy?" You yanked him down by the ascot again and his hands went right back to either side of your face while he pulled you into the alleyway. He got his forty-five minutes and it ended sweetly, with him making you promise to come and see him tomorrow. You agreed, watching him go. He walked backward as to say goodbye, but tripped over a garbage can.

He was alright. There would be a conversation piece in the bruise he would probably get tomorrow. Call it fate or call it fucking destiny that he was back and your feelings were still there. All these years and you finally had what you'd wanted so long ago. Plus, it was only the beginning.

[anxiouslyfred]

Met in the Woods

for @dukexietyweek‘s prompt Pirates/Adventure, I focused on Adventure

Summary: Remus didn’t run away, he just went on a wander through the woods. Virgil got kicked out of their home and took to the woods to try and survive. Somehow meeting was the calmest part despite Virgil attacking Remus.

Warnings: vague fighting, eldritch being mentioned, self-esteem issues, homophodia mention

/\/\

Remus hadn't run away. Really he'd barely even left home, despite packing the largest pack they had full of survival supplies and taking off into the woods one morning before anyone else woke up. There was no point in writing a note, not when he'd definitely be coming home, at some point, probably.

The woods had always called to him, filled with mysteries and adventure if only he had the time to explore and find it, and finally Remus was following the call. He already knew where the first glade was to make a camp in, after that he could follow the river some knights mentioned when reporting their patrols.

He wasn't expecting the glade to already have a tent in it, or for said tents owner to have him flat out within seconds of emerging from the treeline.

“Who sent you after me? I'm not going back, whatever crap they've told you!” The person had a staff poised to strike and with all of Remus's weapons currently under him and tied to his pack he wasn't too inclined to make it an actual fight. Besides, not being recognised as one of the sons of the areas Lord? It was basically a dream Remus never expected to happen given the amount of public appearances he was bribed into.

“Nobody sent me, not a clue who you are. Can I stick my tent over here? Heading to the river at this time of night is just asking for a patrol to catch us.” Remus shrugged, rolling to stand up again only to jump back when the staff was swiped at his legs. What was with them trying to lay him out?

A snarl curled their lips and Remus was fascinated. Most people couldn't get quite so vicious an expression, not even an enraged Roman had managed it yet, although he did get complimented on being fearsome when rampaging. “Like I'm going to believe that! They kicked me out and now expect to get me dragged back, begging for forgiveness or some shit?”

“Woah, I've never managed to get kicked out before. How did you manage that and can I try? Sounds like the best release from responsibilities ever!” Remus leant forwards, although still staying out of the staffs range.

“Writing in a journal about liking how men look. Seriously, people will kick you out for the most dull stuff. Thinking there's dangers in too thin ice, and telling people to sharpen weapons with them directed away from you to avoid self stabbing, oh that's fine. Like watching spiders and write stories without even showing them to anybody about how hot the guy next door is, nope get the hell out.” Remus frowned while listening to the rant. Those motives really did sound incomprehensible, but the persons frustrated movements did sometimes cause their top to tighten and show off muscles or make his cloak move like bats wings over their arms.

It was enough that Remus was moving forwards, bending to catch the staff as it was swung, holding it still. “Seriously? The Lord's of this land are 2 men together. We've got non-binary folks as tax collectors and both of the Lord's sons are attracted more to masculine physics than feminine and your family kicked you out for that?”

“Explains why they do everything possible to keep us kids stuck to the farm, then.” The mumble was clearly not directed at Remus but he shrugged and nodded until they looked back at him. “So if you aren't someone sent to drag me home what the hell are you doing out here?”

“I'm Remus, and just felt like a wander. Male too by the way. Who are you? I've already gathered that you're here cause you got kicked out so won't ask why.” He answered cheerfully. Whomever this person was, they'd been more interesting than most people Remus encountered.

The suspicious glare that had been fading was back a full force. “Virgil. Human, and who the hell just decides to go wandering with a full pack including a tent?”

“I do. Wanted to escape for a while, and now I'm gonna stick with you too.” Remus decided, shrugging off his pack to start setting his own tent up. “All the better if someone actually does come after you, right?”

/VR\

Virgil didn't trust this guy. Who the hell just attaches themselves to a stranger they meet in the woods? There had to be something going on here, or the guy had to be freaking insane and liable to attack in a moment of rage.

“I'm going into that cave! Are you coming?” Remus cheered, pointing further along the river.

There at least was a cave this time, a large excavation into the cliff face that was on the other side of the river. The last 'cave' Remus had tried to explore had just be a darker type of rock that the mad guy had run head first into before realising.

“It's a cave on the edge of a river. You're going to slip on the rocks and kill yourself, or get attacked by a bear taking shelter in it.” Virgil ground out, but carried on following behind Remus getting closer to the cave with each step. “I'm not willing to die for a maniac who won't leave my side.”

Remus just shot a grin over his shoulder as he finally started wading through the water. “Then why are you still following me? Besides it'd be awesome to battle a bear. Maybe I could get some brilliant scars!”

“It's called self preservation, something you seem to have abandoned already. I'm more likely to survive if I have an idiot who runs into danger when predators decide human smells like a good dinner.” Virgil snarked back, pausing to take off their shoes and roll their trousers up before entering the water. They weren't going to have wet feet for hours, no matter how willing Remus was to get his shoes drenched.

They still weren't happy about entering the cave when hours later they were trudging back out a completely different entrance lugging a chest in addition to their packs. “I told you going in there was dangerous!”

“You didn't get hurt, did you? Only blood on either of us is from that, that, actually what the hell was that? We need to go home just so I can get that thing drawn, painted, memorialised for eternity on the walls and given some kind of name.” Remus was twisting to look back at the cave even as he kept moving, holding the other end of the chest.

“Can we figure out what we're doing with whatever the hell is in here? It's heavy and neither of us are going to be ready to fight with a massive chest carried between us.” Virgil dropped their end, effectively bring them to a stop and threw themself on the ground for a rest.

There was still daylight so they weren't worried about a threat approaching unseen and really needed to stop after the fight they'd just gone through. Any creature with that many limbs should be somewhere out at sea, not in caves nowhere near the shore.

“You take it. You're the one who got kicked out from home and nobody would leave something worthless in a cave like that. Bet you could get a house almost as good as the Lord's manor with the treasure in here.” Remus decided, having sat on the ground nearby for only a second before he was  rooting through the pack from his back. “Snacks, pen, ink and paper. You eat something. I gotta start planning out my paintings.”

Virgil was already shaking their head, backing away from the chest as though it would be forced onto them. “No no no no. I'm not taking all of whatever's in there. We got it together. You should get some of it. How about half each? Or you get 3 quarters and I get the rest since I would literally have been killed when that thing first came out?”

“And here I thought I was just a chance for you to escape when I jumped forwards. You were fighting there too. I guess we could go half each.” Remus sighed as though accepting any of it was a hardship rather than treasure won. “Only if you come home with me. Let me introduce my family to the greatest reluctant best friend ever!”

They gaped at that declaration. If anything Virgil would just call them and Remus acquaintances. Sticking together in the middle of woods when no other people has been seen for days could easily turn to barely acknowledging each other once back in town. “If that's what it takes for you to take the treasure that's rightfully yours then fine I guess.” They agreed, already moving stuff about in their pack to find the empty bags they'd managed to grab when hurrying to leave their old home. At the time they'd expected the bags to be for any belongings or tools they could make and acquire while alone in the woods but the contents of a random chest was what they'd need to hold now.

Virgil left Remus to carry on drawing while attempting and after about 20 different tries, managing to unlock and open the chest. They sat separating the treasure by types and into 2 piles of each, kept as even as possible. With the sky clear and dusk not due for a while, it was a relaxing enough break after the cave systems.

/VR\

Looking up at the manor that Remus had just started leading them up to declaring 'Home!' had Virgil reconsidering everything they knew of the place they grew up in.

That was the Lord's manor and for Remus to live here he had to be... nope, NOPE! Virgil had definitely not just accidentally run into one of the sons of the Lord that ruled over his town. Remus must actually just be like, one of the servants, or maybe a gardener? Places like this had gardeners and knights right? Remus must be something like that and had taken some time off too....

All of their rationalisations to prevent panicking about having attacked and then travelled with a Lord's son proved futile when as soon as Remus opened the doors servants were swarming him, asking where the young sir had been, did he have any injuries, and anything else they'd only do for... The son of the Lord's also hurrying through the hall to greet him.

“I went on an adventure!” Remus proclaimed, waving off the servants and turning to look for Virgil who had fully started panicking and wondering if he could turn and run now. “And I made a friend too. That's Virgil and he's brilliant!”

A servant was immediately coming over, offering to take his bag while the Lord's looked him over curiously, listening to Remus who was still talking utter nonsense; a fairytale of a Virgil that they couldn't fathom how Remus thought was them.

“Well anyone who has Remus as besotted as this is more than welcome to remain with us as long as you care to, Virgil. Are there any titles that you hold?” The Lord asked, smiling at them now and holding a hand up to pause Remus's ramblings.

“No, My Lord. I am estranged from my family currently and would not be in line for any titles even if that weren't the case.” They couldn't come out with a rant about being kicked out in front of a Lord, but to deny that they were probably the lowest of his lands would only lead to worse things later.

The Lord just nodded but Remus glowered. “They've got money though. Helped me fight a beast in a cave and we found this massive chest of treasure that can get him a home and stuff now. Seriously, even while claiming they wouldn't risk death for me they followed me into the cave and fought just as much as I did when this brilliant creature attacked. Someone get my paints set up in the gallery across from my room. I know what's going on the far wall now!”

“Money wasn't our concern, Son. I'll check if there's any titles we can bestow on them for bringing you home safely.” The other Lord spoke up now and Virgil was really wishing their parents had at least mentioned the names of the nobility that ruled over them. Maybe they could ask one of the servants soon, since Remus was likely to forget about them now he was back home and around his family.

It definitely seemed possible since with the comment about finding them a title the Lords were heading to other rooms in the hall and Remus was racing down a different corridor while a few servants came to direct Virgil to somewhere else. They just let themself be led through getting measured for new clothes and settled into rooms that had at some point been requested for them. They could at least work on getting a home here before the hospitality of the Lord's ran out preferably.

/RV\

7 days had passed and Remus was confused. Each morning he'd asked Virgil to come and help him paint, or join him in the science lessons he'd insisted on getting. Each time they'd nod and come along but disappear somewhere on route to where he wanted to go.

His best friend kept hiding from him and it didn't feel like a game or even like something they wanted to do if the wary glances each meal were anything to go by. It was like Virgil was expecting him to tell him to leave, gained some hope whenever Remus asked for them to do something together but gave it up seconds later as a lie. Remus wouldn't lie, especially not over wanting someone's company. He just wanted Virgil to be around him.

Today he was going to put a stop to it. He still chattered through breakfast, arguing with Roman over painting styles and trying to get Virgil to agree with him but he didn't move to get up or say anything after his meal was finished. He just sat, waiting for Virgil to finish eating and hoping he hadn't been cutting their meal short with the invitations.

“Do you not want to be my friend?” Remus blurted once they were the only ones still at the table, making Virgil startle.

“What, of course I, no, I do, definitely do but you, I mean, I thought you wouldn't. I'm just a nobody and you have all these exciting things that's you basically bounce in your seat when you talk about.” Virgil tripped over their words, clearly concerned over Remus's question but not sure how to answer it.

Remus just watched them try to reply, concerned but making himself be calm, still. “Then why do you keep disappearing when I want to share them with you? Sharing them would make any activities like a million times better! Hell just arguing with Roman is way more fun when I've got you beside me.”

“But I'm nothing!” Virgil exclaimed, pushing down on the table. “Why would you want anything to do with me except because of pity?”

“Yeah, definitely, I pitied a guy attacking me with a staff and stuck with him because I thought he needed some charity.” Remus rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure you are more than any scoundrel I could find walking into town just because you don't give a shit who we are, if you think something's dangerous or harmful you're gonna yell about it.”

“And you don't give a damn and do it anyway, claiming there's nothing dangerous that could harm you!” Their response was a glare that just made Remus grin.

He'd missed being told off while Virgil was constantly hiding themself away. “Still take more care than I would without the reminder. Besides I love that, always needed someone to give reasons for why they're upset and you just give them.”

“Love? Besotted? Why is everyone talking like we should be courting now? I don't even have somewhere to live. Get them to stop playing with my heart like that.” Virgil moaned, apparently focused on a word Remus had barely realised he'd spoken. Watching them lean on the desk it was clear there had been more said by the servants too in the last week.

He shrugged leaning back in his seat. “They aren't. If you'd actually let me find you or come to help with my painting this week you might have realised that I am very likely to fall in love with you.” He held back from saying it had already happened while coming back from the cave. It seemed like it would be too much for them, no matter that the painting in his gallery had basically made Virgil his universe, cradled and treasured by the creature they'd battled rather than fighting it.

Lost eyes looked over to him as they processed the words. “So we can be together together? I'm not – not going to get kicked out again for liking you too much?”

“Nope, I mean I made sure our rooms are next to each other deliberately so we could go through the courting without being too far apart.” Remus pointed out. “On that thought, can I actually give you your courting gifts now? I keep trying to but you disappear before I've got them out.”

Virgil nodded mutely for a second, watching him, before leaning forwards for a kiss, barely more than a peck before they were pushing away trying to get more distance between them. “Sorry, should've asked, but um, yes, courting, we can do that!”

“You don't have to ask if you want to kiss me, but if it makes you feel better we can do constantly asking.” Remus couldn't hold back his grin, and knew it was the one servants backed away, concerned over what his manic joy would cause today.

Courting first, and convincing Virgil they were far more than their mind said over time.

[beeexx]

The missing Tarlos scenes from 2x06

Word count: 4.8    Read on ao3

.......

“You know you need to tell him this, right?”

“No, no, I really don’t.” TK protests loudly, by banging the frozen bag of chickens into the counter, hoping they will shake loose with the excess force he is using. Carlos lifts an eyebrow from where he is standing in boxers and an old tank top, too much skin on display for it to be good for TK’s health, cutting onions into small, stupidly neat pieces on the chopping board. 

“TK….” Carlos begins, in that voice of his and TK turns around, eyes flashing.

“Carlos.” 

Carlos huffs.

“Babe, this is clearly bothering you, and taking it out on our poor dinner isn’t ideal.” He points out.

“Oh, sure Carlos, I’ll just tell my dad that him having another kid is a terrible idea because I’m a prime example of how they messed up with the first one.”

“TK…” 

“Oh and while I’m at it I might as well bring up how I am feeling about it and make it all about myself like I always do, that ought to go down really well.” He snaps and Carlos sighs. 

“You don’t make everything about yourself.” TK lifts an eyebrow and Carlos snorts. “Okay, sometimes you do, but often not without a legit reason and this is definitely a situation I feel you’re entitled to feel whatever it is that you’re really feeling and express that.” 

“Okay, well if we’re on the subject of telling parents what we really think then why don’t you take a page out of your own book and tell your parents that you have a boyfriend, oh, or better yet, the way you’ve been feeling for years about them refusing to acknowledge that you’re gay.” As soon as the words leave his mouth TK regrets them and he winces at the wounded look Carlos sends his way at his harsh words.

Fuck. 

“That’s not the same thing.” Carlos mutters, he sounds bitter about it and were it not for the deeply thoughtful look also making its way across his features TK would take the words back immediately.

“I could have gone about that differently, sorry…. But, but isn’t that exactly the same thing as this is though.” 

“We were talking about you.” Carlos points out in an attempt to deflect and TK just chooses to let it go because he doesn’t have the energy to have an argument about two different things at the moment. His head is enough of a mess as it is. 

“My point still stands, talking to your parents about all the ways they have hurt you is fucking hard, okay?”

“Yes, okay I will agree with you on that.”

“And if you really want to make this all about me this time then fine. Try telling my dad, Owen Strand, Captain of the 126, adored by his crew, envied by even more, hero, cancer survivor, the list could go on for a long time Carlos, yes try telling that person that oh yeah by the way dad you neglected me as a child and now I have both abandonment issues, self esteem issues and a constant fear that no one is ever going to love me because I am not worthy of it, that will go down real well.” 

He hits the bag three more times against the counter and lets out a triumphant sound as the frozen chickens finally rattle loose inside and he turns to hold it up to Carlos, a sly little smile at the corner of his lip, because his tactic did work even though Carlos had doubted it would. Carlos isn’t smiling though, he’s frowning, concern written all over his face, eyebrows pinched together and TK drops the bag in confusion.

“What?”

Carlos puts the knife down and takes the bag from TK, throwing it lazily, without looking in the direction of the kitchen sink before he steps up close, wrapping his arms around TK and pulling him close. TK lets out a huff of air, taken aback by the fierceness of the action. 

“I hate it when you do this to yourself…” Carlos starts and TK sighs, wraps his arms around him back and nods against Carlos’ neck, can’t help but breathe him in, feeling the calming effect of it already working through his system. 

“Sorry.”

“No, no don’t apologise.” Carlos leans back and TK looks up to meet his stormy eyes. He opens his mouth but he isn’t sure what to say. 

“I love you, okay? So much and I wish I could hit that into your thick skull sometimes but I can’t, so I’m just going to have to spend every day in this relationship proving that you are indeed worthy of love and no past damage or mistakes will change that, okay?” TK can only nod, his throat suddenly thick with emotions he doesn’t know how to express.

“With that said, you’re not very good at keeping things bottled up, especially not for a long time and especially not something this big, so you should probably really think about what you actually feel about this whole situation before you choose to do that.”

“Judd said I was jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, something about me wanting to push the baby down a well or something because I couldn’t handle not being the only child anymore.”

“He said what now?” TK chuckles at Carlos’ incredulous look and he shrugs.

“It was some biblical reference I don’t know. Prodigal son?” 

“Oh, like Cain and Abel, like a lesser known older brother and the jealousy that stems from it because it’s natural to resent the baby because you’re scared it’s going to take your place.” Realisation dawns on Carlos’ face and his eyes light up like they always do when he gets to talk about things he knows, which at times is a surprisingly big amount of random shit.

“Yeah, yeah, exactly that.” TK says sarcastically, gives Carlos a curious look.

“What? I read.” He shrugs and smirks proudly. TK hums. ”Well Judd is good at a lot of things, maybe giving advice isn’t his forte.”

“And yours is?” TK lifts a challenging eyebrow. 

“I am an excellent advice giver, I’ll have you know. The issue isn’t me, the issue is everyone else and no one listening to what I’m saying.”

“Oh, so you have a lot of experience then, giving advice?” TK bites down his smile as Carlos glares without heat.

“I chased Michelle around for years when she was getting in trouble searching for her sister. I definitely have a lot of experience.” TK chuckles and leans up to kiss his nose. It wrinkles adorably and TK’s heart tugs in his chest. He loves Carlos so much.

“I love you too, so much. And I’m sorry for bringing up your parents again, that wasn’t nice of me.” TK apologizes and Carlos nods and watches back with quiet brown intense eyes.

“It’s okay, you were right though.” He grudgingly admits. 

“Maybe, but there is no pressure, as I’ve said you can take all the time in the world that you need to figure it out and I’ll support you either way.” He promises and Carlos gives him a soft beautiful smile.

“Thanks.” Carlos whispers, grateful and TK nods, and gently starts scraping his knuckles against Carlos’ scalp, pulling at his curls in a way that makes his face soften immediately, eyes falling shut in contentment and his arms tighten around TK, breathing heavily. His reaction tells TK that Carlos feels really comforted by the way he is touching him and that he needed it more than he let on.

TK has always responded well to touch, Carlos picked up on that a lot quicker than most, but it’s also not uncommon for Carlos to like it as well. He just doesn’t always express it, so TK’s taken to doing it when he senses it’s something Carlos needs, while not always being aware of it himself. It’s these small gestures TK’s learnt, that you do for the other person and that they do for you that love really is. 

Carlos’ eyes are closed and he’s letting out soft sounds of pleasure, it’s distracting as hell, and it’s making it even more difficult being this close to him and not kissing him, so TK does because he feels he can’t not do it, and angles Carlos’ head down and captures his lips in a searing hot kiss. As always when they kiss like this, starting out soft, but then growing with intention and heat, the slowburn of arousal starts to make its way through his veins, electric energy flooding his system. Only Carlos has this effect on him. 

When Carlos reaches to grab at his hair and then bites at his lip it makes TK whine and chase after him when he moves back. 

“Dinner, remember?” Carlos reminds him, but with his curls standing up unruly and his pupils dark with want, it’s very hard for TK to remember the reason why he can’t skip dinner all together and eat Carlos out instead. Carlos huffs and his hands tighten around his sides like he can read TK’s mind.

“After dinner.”

“Is that a promise?” TK asks slyly. 

“Yes.” Carlos reassures and the slow self satisfied grin tugging at his lips is fucking obscene and TK cheekily grabs his ass in retaliation. Carlos knows the effect he has on him. 

“You know cooking in boxers can be a fire hazard.” He points out.

“Good thing I know an excellent firefighter then.” He says and kisses TK hard on the lips before he steps away, walking back to his mostly finished chopped up onions, giving TK a very nice view of his ass in the black tight boxers he’s wearing. God, his boyfriend is hot as fuck.

The rest of the evening is so nice in fact that for a moment he doesn’t think about his parents or the baby, or anything other than how much he loves Carlos and how lucky he is to really have him in his life.

…….

TK unlocks the door to Carlos’ place, throws the bag towards what he hopes is the direction of the shoes, and puts his keys down in the bowl by the door, where Carlo’s are already lying. He steps inside and almost jumps out of skin when he sees his boyfriend sitting on the stairs, frowning and very clearly waiting for him. Most of the lights are off and it casts his features into stunning relief, even when angry, Carlos is too good looking for his own good.

“So, you heard?” TK gulps and Carlos nods.

“Yes, yes I did hear, from the group chat, but not just that, every goddamn news station in the state is covering how two firefighters jumped through a minefield to save two boys that were hurt.”

“Well, only one of them was hurt.” TK shuts his mouth when Carlos levels him with a deeply unimpressed look and he takes a slow step forward and tries again.

“In my defense, I am certified and I was qualified to do it.” TK stops, draws in a sharp breath, backtracks. “Are you mad?” 

Carlos lets out a deep breath, and his features soften slightly before he shakes his head, scrubs a hand through his face and when he looks up his eyes are wide and sad.

“No, no, of course I’m not mad. Just extremely worried.”

“Oh?” TK asks, feels confused, scrambling to catch up with the change, having been expecting that Carlos would be upset with him. Carlos huffs and opens his arms and it’s all TK needs for him to take a few steps forward before he sits down between Carlos’ legs, wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling him close. Carlos plants a kiss in his hair, and tightens his grip around TK, almost unconsciously starts stroking his hands down his back and TK lets him, can’t push away the guilt that’s come on so strong, mixing badly with the elevation he’s also feeling after the day he’s had. But when his boyfriend reacts like this it can’t help but leave an acid taste in his mouth too.

“I’m not sure whether I want to never let you leave my arms ever again or brag to everyone that I am for sure dating a hero.” Carlos says and were it not for the slight tremor of his voice that he tries to conceal, TK would laugh. 

“I wouldn’t mind never leaving your arms.” He admits because it sounds appealing, especially now, when adrenaline is starting to make way to exhaustion instead. 

Carlos huffs. 

“You’d get bored after a day or two.” He points out and TK shakes his head.

“You underestimate the excellent sex we do have, I’m sure I could be convinced for three days or so.” Carlos laughs, but then one of his hands wrap around TK’s wrist, feeling out his pulse, comforted by the steady thumping of it. TK lets him, allowing himself after the hectic day he’s had to tuck his face into the crook of Carlos’ shoulder and neck to breathe him in. They both have different ways of calming themselves down when the other one is near and on certain days they need it a little more than on others. 

“Your pulse is beating insanely quick.” Carlos points out after a while and TK hums against Carlos’ neck, gives himself a moment before he detaches himself slightly so he can look at him. 

“Adrenaline.” He shows Carlos his hand that’s still trembling slightly and Carlos’ eyebrow pinch in concern.

“I’m sorry -” TK begins because he really does hate it when Carlos is sad but Carlos shakes his head and interrupts. 

“No, no, this is on me. I know you have a dangerous job that sometimes requires that you take risks, I just wish they didn't have to be this big, a minefield, that’s just insane.” TK nods, he understands.

“But also really cool.” He can’t help but let slip out, eyes alive in excitement and smirking. Carlos snorts and pokes his nose, a little hard maybe, but only a little.

“Yes and designed to give me a goddamn heart attack, you know I’m not even 30, by this rate I’ll be going grey before I hit 35.” He points out, gives TK a look that speaks volumes about how offended Carlos seems to be over that. He laughs and reaches for Carlos’ hair, tugging gently on it.

���I think you’d suit grey really well to be fair.” Carlos wrinkles his nose in distaste and it’s so adorable that he can’t help but laugh again and Carlos distaste slowly melts into something much softer and he sticks his tongue out instead like a mature 26 year old that he is. “And if we’re pointing fingers, remember that hostage situation a while back where an office was shot and I thought it was you because you wouldn’t answer your phone?” Carlos winces and he looks momentarily guilty about that because TK had been so fucking worried he could barely even do his job that day and when Carlos hadn’t answered by the time they were both off shift TK had lost it a little bit. 

“Not my finest moment.” Carlos admits.

“No, so don’t go pointing fingers.” But he’s mostly joking even though that day had been scary as fuck, he so very much understands Carlos’ worry today, he really does. Carlos hums.

“How was it then?” He asks and TK bites at his lip, trying to figure out how to word everything. He turns towards Carlos and sits up on his knees, bringing him eyelevel with him and wraps his arms around his neck. Immediately Carlos’ hands come to rest on his waist, his fingers slipping underneath TK’s jumper to trace skin. 

“It was incredible, well the minefield aside which was scary for sure, but after that I’ve been feeling like I’ve been on this incredibly long lasting high ever since.” Carlos lifts an eyebrow at the metaphor and TK shrugs sheepishly. 

“Yeah, but it’s an apt metaphor for the feeling. I guess I haven’t felt good like that in a while.”

“No?” Carlos asks and there is no trace of judgement or anything in his voice, just kind and curious eyes looking at him. TK nods.

“The only other times I’ve felt this kind of high is you know actually getting high and when I’m with you, I guess the job’s been missing that spark for a while.” Carlos smiles and leans forward to plant a kiss on his nose.

“I’m not totally sure about comparing this relationship to a high.” He points out and TK snorts.

“I’m not, I’m comparing the feeling. Being with you is like pure happiness you know? I feel, just, like I’ve never felt before and even when it’s tough it’s worth it because I love you so much and I know deep down that you love me too and I never don’t want to spend my time with you, so yeah, the feeling is addictive for sure. I really just love you.” He goes quiet and Carlos' eyes have softened and he’s met by a look of pure love and a breathtakingly beautiful smile breaks across Carlos’ face before he pulls TK close and kisses him softly and slowly, making TK’s toes curl inside of his shoes. 

“Fuck.” Carlos whispers against his lips. “I love you too, so much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Carlos says with adoring eyes and voice full of love before he runs his hand through TK’s hair and gently pulls him close, kissing him hard on his lips again. It’s TK who pulls back though making Carlos lift an eyebrow in surprise because it’s unexpected for TK to be the one to do this, so before TK can chicken out he blurts out the words.

“But I might have done something stupid…”

“Oh?” Carlos asks, amusement dancing in his eyes like he’s totally expecting it. 

“Yeah, I might have handed in my resume to Vega for the position to become a paramedic.” He rushes the words out, hates the silence between them and can’t help but feel ridiculously nervous all of a sudden waiting for Carlos' reaction. Carlos opens and closes his mouth a few times then shakes his head.

“Okay, wait, I think you need to back up a few steps here so I can follow.” He says, confusion evident in his eyes. But he’s giving TK an encouraging look at TK takes in a deep breath.

“The minefield was not fun and the thought of what could have happened to me and my dad while out there was really scary. I’m not trying to take massive risks anymore, not when I have you to come home to.” Carlos smiles, lovingly, and gives him an encouraging look spurring TK on. “But I knew someone had to get to the kid and with the help of my dad and Vega that I could do something about it, so I volunteered. And the elevation afterwards, that all came from saving the kid. It just… it felt really good to save someone, to be the one to actually do it.” TK confesses loudly for the first time since his shift ended and he in the spur of the moment added his name to the pile in Vega’s office, and saying it makes him feel a little calmer than he has ever since walking off the field. 

“Oh, okay.” Carlos says, not fully understanding yet what TK is trying to say, and yet being so patient with him, waiting for TK to figure it out. 

“I don’t know, I sometimes feel like I’m not doing enough in the field, like I could do more... and while I also know that’s not the case because every day we all go out in the field doing our best together. But I think I’ve been carrying this with me for a while now, it’s just that this year has been a lot, and even when there is a pandemic going on people still forget to turn their stove off, and they get into car accidents or have their cats escape up in trees unable to come down. The world hasn’t stopped, it’s been moving and I’ve been moving with it without having the time to reflect a lot on myself and the job. But today, I don’t know, I felt like something just clicked while out there and when I could really help him...I guess, I really liked doing it.” TK blushes because he’s been ranting and he’s averted his eyes but they move back to Carlos by their own accord and Carlos’ eyes have cleared from all earlier confusion, instead understanding has taken over and he nods his head thoughtfully.

“And that’s why you handed in your resume? Because you want to continue doing it?” Carlos fills in and TK nods biting his lip.

“D-do you… Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“It’s not up to me to tell you what to do babe, but you know what?”

“What?” TK asks, hanging onto every word he’s saying. 

“I think you’d be good at it.”

“Yeah?” He asks, hopeful, and Carlos smiles.

“Of course, you’d be amazing at it, if it’s what you want.”

“It is yes, it’s what I want.” TK says with certainty. It’s just clicked, like all that has been shaking loose and upended recently inside of him finally settle a little more.

“Then yes, it’s an amazing idea. You’re going to be so good.” Carlos grins and TK melts because while he doesn’t depend on Carlos’ approval for this it’s so nice to see him be actually happy for him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Carlos promises and TK releases the breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding and his own face breaks into a relieved smile. 

“I think I could be good at it too.” He confesses a little shyly and Carlos beams and pulls TK slightly forward, his forehead resting on his and everything just settles for TK because nothing beats this, nothing beats Carlos. 

“I’m proud of you.” Carlos says and TK can’t bite down the smile. But it falls off his face after a moment and he moves back, looks a little unsure again.

“I might have done something else that wasn’t very smart.” Carlos huffs, lifts an eyebrow, so ever patient with him.

“What did you do now?”

“I didn’t tell my dad…” He trails off and Carlos grimaces but then a look of determination takes over and he shrugs before he gently grasps TK’s face between his hands, stroking a thumb lovingly along his cheek.

“Well, you know what I think?” TK shakes his head. “I think it’s not any of his business really.”  

That surprises TK to be honest and he lifts an eyebrow.

“W-what? I mean really?”

“Yeah, I mean maybe you should have told him before you just went and did it, but it’s your life and not his. And as long as you’re not doing it for someone else then it’s not really his choice to make.”

“I’m doing it for me, it’s what I want.” Carlos’ lip lifts in a proud smile and he nods.

“Good.”

“But, what if he’s not happy?”

“I don’t think he will be unhappy, maybe a little surprised and maybe give him a moment. But if he knows you like I do, then he will realise it’s a good thing.”

“Okay, I hope so.” TK musters up a wane smile, still can’t push away the spikes of anxiety about the conversation he’s going to have to have with his dad. But it can wait, for a little while at least. 

“You know Vega is going to bust your ass right?” Carlos jokes, eyes full of mirth, smirking and TK snorts.

“Yeah, yeah I know.”

“I remember when Michelle started training under her, the stories she would tell me, Vega is badass and she taught Michelle who is also a badass, I’m expecting she’s going to do the same to you.”

“I’m already a badass.” TK reminds him and Carlos chuckles. 

“True, I think she will do you some good though. Challenge you and allow you to really thrive under her, she has that effect on people.” TK nods.

“It’s a tough job…”

“Yeah, but as you said, you’re already a badass, you’re going to do great.”

“It will be nice to be the paramedic, rather than calling one.” TK says and it grows a little more serious between them. 

“I mean -” TK clears his throat at Carlos’ silence. “I have experience of being on the other end and I know what it’s like being helped. I guess a part of me is looking forward to doing the helping.”

“I see, well you care so much about people and if you get a chance to show that, to show them this.” Carlos' hands move to cover TK’s heart and it flutters in his chest, warmth spreading to every cell of his body and he smiles shyly. “Then, well, you’re going to be very good at it.” TK bites his lip and nods.

“It feels… I don’t know, just right.”

“Good, that’s amazing.” TK doesn’t know what to say but he’s grateful, more than how he knows to express at the moment but in the way Carlo’s face softens, maybe he can read between the lines.

“Have you talked to Owen about the baby yet?” TK groans, can’t help but glare, the moment between them broken suddenly, like a bucket of ice cold water has been thrown at him, and he moves his head away, hiding in the crook of Carlos’ shoulder and neck and nibbles at his skin making Carlos chuckle, twitching in his arms.

“No, not yet…” He says though, voice muffled by Carlos’ skin. 

“Well, do you want to talk about it?” TK sighs but takes his head away and meets Carlos’ eyes. 

“I feel… I mean I am happy for them of course but...” He bites at his lip, hard and Carlos reaches forward with his thumb to gently stroke it over the swollen redness making TK stop the action. He takes in a deep breath instead.

“But they always do this, and I don’t even think they are realising it, but they get so single-minded and focused on themselves that they forget everything else. The fighting isn’t fun, I’ve been in the middle of it and I know how lonely and unwanted you can feel when it happens. What they’re doing, it feels like they are just falling into the same patterns as before without even realising that they are, and it’s not going to last if they do it that way.” 

Carlos looks thoughtful and TK feels annoyed and frustrated because he can’t help but think it makes his parents feel so irresponsible and it’s hard to come to terms with that because his parents in their own right are extremely competent people, it’s just when together, they aren’t always. 

“I support you, I always will and your feelings here are valid and to be worried is honestly a sign of growth.” Carlos begins.

“Oh, you're calling me mature, that’s unusual.” TK jokes, changing the subject.

“I mean you’re definitely a hot mess, a terrible terrible driver for sure.” Carlos easily fires back.

“God, did Judd text you?”

“And filmed some of it. This is why I’m never letting you drive my baby.”

“Hold on, I thought I was your baby, and here I find out you have someone else on the side?” Carlos’ arms tighten around him, biting his lip, the smile threatening to take over. 

“What can I say, I really like that car and I paid a lot of money for it.”

“It’s a terrible car for making out in.” TK reminds him and Carlos smirks, reminded of the few times they’ve gotten frisky in it. 

“True, still not letting you drive it.” He teases and TK glares. 

“Rude.”

“Maybe, but I care too much about the possibility of my greying hairs to get here sooner than I’d like to, to get into a car where you are driving us.”

“Well I might be a paramedic soon, so at least you'd be with someone where your odds are fractionally better if you were to get in an accident.”

“Still not letting you drive it Strand.”

“Worth a shot.” TK laughs and Carlos smiles.

“So, do you want dinner or?”

TK shakes his head.

“No, I’m good, but I’m getting too old to sit on my knees like this.” He grumbles and shifts to get the blood running again. Carlos chuckles and makes it all the easier by just scooping him up in his arms. TK yelps and Carlos grins, delighted by the sound. TK wraps his legs around Carlos’ waist, tightens his arms around his neck.

“Please don’t drop me.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it baby.” Carlos reassures grinningly. “So, bed?”

“Bed.” TK agrees.

He lets Carlos carry him up the stairs and into the bedroom, feeling so safe in his arms, that whatever conversation that’s waiting for him tomorrow with his dad, doesn’t matter as much anymore.

[horrorslashergirl]

Chromeskull meeting his young future SO drinking at a bar after she walked in on her now ex-boyfriend sleeping with her now ex-best friend.

Chromeskull x Reader- Fantasy to Reality

Authors Note: Oh you know....Just a very long Chromeskull OneShot. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Warnings: 18+ Smut

Words: 4.1k

It didn't matter that you were looking out of place with your sweater, leggings, and UGG's among the people at the bar who were dressed in flashy clothes, you didn't come here to hook up or find a possible partner; you just wanted to get away from the apartment that you shared with your boyfriend. Oh! Ex-boyfriend to be exact.

Looking down at the half-empty glass of vodka, you debated if you should order another one, drowning yourself in alcohol seemed like a good getaway at the moment. You simply didn't want to spend your time listening to your cheating ex-boyfriend and who was supposed to be your best friend. All that sugar-coating was just a facade for their secret affair.

You thought that your relationship will blossom more, especially that you decided to go to the same college as your supposed lover; it was his idea after all. Staying in a bar all night was better than wandering the streets. You didn't had any place to go, after all, moving to another state, you didn't know anyone that would help you in this current predicament.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when someone occupied the stool at the bar next to you, and from the corner of your eye, you could tell it was a man, but you didn't give him any attention.

'[Name]?' an electronic voice pulled your attention, your eyes darting to the person; all dressed in fancy black clothes, tattooed hands, bald head, and finally to a pair of chocolate brown eyes.

"Jesse?" you asked, eyebrows raised in surprise, and the man offered you a grin, showing pearly white teeth.

Of course! How could you forget about him, he lived in Jacksonville!

You haven't seen him since you were 14. He was an old family friend, remembering him from the family gatherings and parties, he was friends with your father.

"What are you doing here?" you asked and he raised an eyebrow at you.

'I should ask you the same thing, little shrimp.'

Oh, that old nickname he used on you when you were a child. He was a little younger than your father, and according to your age, he was supposed to be now probably in his late 30s.

"Just having a drink." you simply replied, but he could read you like an open book.

'Doesn't look like it.'

You sighed, knowing you won't get away without him finding out what was really bothering you, plus you kind of needed to get your frustrations out, so you began to explain to him what happened, how you got backstabbed twice in one shot by the people that were supposed to love, care and support you.

By the furrow and sad look in his eyes, you could tell he was angry by your former best friend and boyfriend, but also pity by what happened to you.

'No need to cry over such people. You can do much better.'

"You say that only to make me feel better." you murmured, taking another sip of your drink, only to be snatched away by Jesse, who gave you that stern father-look.

'No more drinking. You had enough.'

"I-I'm just angry....This is not how my first year of college was supposed to be like." you said, looking down at your hands.

'College can be tough...especially if you go after guys who don't know what they want from life.'

This time you gave Jesse an amused look and snorted.

"So what? I am supposed to date guys who have the same age as my father?" you asked in a sassy tone, and perhaps you shouldn't have said that because to Jesse it gave him some taboo ideas, but he quickly pulled them aside, he was married after all and you were the daughter of one of his friends. You were off-limits and so was he.

'What I am saying is that you should look for a real man. Someone who has a stable life and not some bag of meat who plays football, cannot keep a conversation and sleeps with your best friend.'

Ouch, that was harsh and his eyes softened as he noticed that he struck a nerve.

'I expect you to have higher standards, shrimp. You could do much better than that pig.'

You smiled at Jesse and nodded, feeling your self-esteem rise up a little from the ashes.

He indeed helped you out of your misery and it was nice to known someone in Jacksonville. Jesse even helped you out after that encounter at the bar, buying you a small apartment so that you won't have to stay with your ex-boyfriend and pay the rent, he always called you from time to time to ask if you needed something, it felt good to know someone genuinely cared about you.

'How can I not help you out, shrimp? You're my best friend's daughter. I don't wanna see you dead in an alleyway.'

Of course, your father was his best friend, it came naturally for Jesse to look out for you since your father lived on the other side of the country, but still, you couldn't help that sometimes you think of every nice thing he did for you as something more than family chivalry, especially after that small talk about how you could do so much better in the dating department.

You'd do him, alright!

Every time such thoughts crossed your mind you reminded yourself that he was your dad's best friend, a married man, and twice your age, but then other images crossed your mind that clashed with your rational part of the brain.

How could you not fantasize about Jesse? He was a tall, classy, and handsome man, with tattoos that you could ogle at for hours, dark brown eyes that always sparkled with mischief, and the way his lips pulled into a smirk; he really was a wet dream, well your wet dream.

It wasn't like you didn't continue to date, more like went on a first date and gave up, because the guy wasn't what you were looking for. They simply didn't have that specific something that Jesse had.

You continued on with your life, focusing on college and studies; three years went on like this until you were in the last year and one night you were watching some sappy romantic movie while your thoughts went again on a certain man.

You remembered an event that made you smile.

It was Jesse's wedding, you were just 14 and your parents pulled you along. You were sitting at the table, looking as the people danced on the gigantic ballroom, when Jesse came to you, asking why you had such a gloomy face.

You were probably the only teenager there and you had none close to your age to talk to or spend time with, so you amused yourself with watching.

'Dance?'

Of course, the invitation was all innocent and his wife was with the ladies having a good time, probably gossiping and whatnot.

"I-I don't know how to dance." you confessed, looking down, only for Jesse to crouch down and give you a genuine smile.

'Follow my lead.'

With that, he extended his hand and you accepted it, pulling you to the dance floor and sitting your feet on his own. You praised yourself internally for choosing ballet flats over the torturous heels. It was all fun back then, you were still clueless when you were a teenager and still didn't looked into boys and dating games.

Now? You remembered how good he looked into that groom tuxedo, how his expensive cologne invaded all your senses, and how he grinned down at your little self.

The ringing of your phone pulled you out of the delicious daydream and checked to see who it was.

Your father.

It was the usual call: How you're doing in college? What new things happened? Did you get a boyfriend? Nothing really out of the ordinary until he brought Jesse into the discussion and you felt sweat form at the back of your neck.

Looks like he had an accident six months ago and his wife died. That really made you speechless. You haven't talked with Jesse in the past months, you were so busy with studying and final exams and projects; you indeed missed on a lot of things.

"How is he dealing with everything?" you asked, genuinely concerned.

"He is overworking himself, trying to distract himself from all the hurricane of events. Just thought I let you know so if you see him next time you won't be taken aback." your father explained.

You understood the intention and the fact that he mentioned that Jesse was left scarred; you really wondered what happened. Car accident? Jesse had a habit of driving like a maniac.

Looking at the phone in your hand you wondered if you should text him, ask him if everything's alright, but decided against it. You weren't someone prolific in his life, you were just a person on the edge and he was polite and considerate to you, because of your status, not that he viewed you as something more than daddy's little girl.

All night you couldn't sleep because of the news, they haunted your dreams and made you all curious. The next day, earlier in the morning, you decided to go directly at him, you knew his address, and a face to face meeting was better than a text.

Paying the cab driver and waving him off, your eyes averted to the imposing metal gates and the kingdom-like front lawn and right behind it the 'castle'. Come to think that just one man lives in this place really made you wonder how much of a God-complex Jesse had.

Just as you were ready to call on the interphone, a small and put together brown-haired woman stepped out of the house and walking towards the gate, her eyes looking at you with curiosity.

"You must be [Name]." she said, offering a professional smile.

You raised an eyebrow at her.

"How do you know my name?" you asked, feeling like she knew more than you might think.

"Mr. Cromeans talks about you a lot. I'm Spann, his assistant. He didn't expect you." she said, pressing a button on a remote and the gate unlocked.

Top technology indeed.

"No, he doesn't. It's more like a surprise visit, to be honest....I just got the news of what...happened." you said, your mood dropping a little and Spann gave you a sympathetic look, motioning for you to follow her.

"I'm sure he will be happy to see you. None has visited him since the incident." she explained and your eyes widened.

None has visited him? He had so many people at his wedding and so many people always took a chance to be in his presence. What just happened? Being curious you followed Spann and profit to take in your surroundings; the villa was really imposing, the colors of black and white being the most noticeable, and you had to watch your steps as you marched up the marble stairs to the front row. Spann opened the double doors for you and motioned for you to enter.

"He is in his office. Go ahead, I have to go back to the headquarters of the company, but I'm sure he will be happy that you're here." That was the only thing she said before she closed the doors and left you standing there, feeling like a little mouse in this big house.

Looking around a bit you noticed what you assumed was the door to his study and you could hear the faint sound of fingers typing on the keyboard. With a little reluctance, you knocked on the door to make your presence known and opened the door, your eyes seeing Jesse behind the black desk working on his laptop.

You took the time that he wasn't looking up to observe him. The familiar flawless pale face was indeed deeply scarred, the skull structure more prominent and one might felt disgusted at such a sight, but you felt something else, it wasn't pitying, perhaps you felt a deep empathy, wonders of how much it hurt to get on such a result.

When his gaze moved up, probably he expected Spann, but not you, because his eye widened, hands stopping above the keyboard.

'[Name]? What are you doing here?' he slowly signed, getting up from the plush leather seat at his desk.

In the meantime, you had learned a bit of ASL from Jesse, the basics, but you took liberties and studied the unspoken language deeper. Why? Probably in certain hopes.

"I came to visit....I-I heard what happened." you spoke in a soft voice, afraid to not say something that might be wrong, your hands playing with the sleeves of your shirt nervously.

Jesse sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

'Nothing to worry about.' he signed, then leaned against his desk, his usual goofy face, full of cheekiness no longer present.

"I-I'm sorry." you didn't know for what you were apologizing.

Were you apologizing because his face turned into meatball meat and all because of him and his not so orthodox hobby and business, although you didn't know about it? Were you apologizing because his wife was dead and you didn't felt any remorse, because now he was available? You were apologizing because you were feeling like a despicable human being, with egoistic intent?

'You don't have to be. It wasn't your fault.' he signed, then he took a sip of his drink; definitely whiskey.

Not your fault, but the emotions you were feeling.

"None has been visiting you, at last, that's what I'd heard." you said, not really so sure what to make of this conversation.

Jesse gave you a non-pulsed look; no, none came to visit him or give him a 'get better' card or anything corny like that, because he didn't need any pity coming from anyone. He wasn't a helpless man; yes, he was mute, but he wasn't paralyzed to the bed or an old man you can give the compassion smile to. Vulnerable wasn't a word to attribute to Jesse Cromeans, but the truth was that he was feeling just like that.

Yes, the news about his now-dead wife broke him down, but Chromeskull wasn't one to be put down simply like that, and in a few weeks he got over it, despite the empty bed, just like the rest of the enormous villa. Even if she wouldn't have shot herself what would have become of their marriage; she would have left him in a heartbeat, and if it wasn't for the serial killer part, then sure as hell it would be for his face.

None, but Spann looked him dead in the eye, but that small woman had guts of steel. The women couldn't even look him up and no amount of money could change that. Sleeping with old geezers for a 1000$ sure thing, but a disfigured man like him, no thank you. Piggies were, all the same, no matter age, status; they were all disgusting future beef that will all fall to his blades.

He was pulled out of the gruesome daydream when your hand touched his forearm, his gaze meeting yours that showed pity. He fucking hated that sentiment, especially if it was directed at him.

"It's not that bad." you whispered, but Jesse was too blind to see through you trying to emphasize with him.

His face or what had remained of him pulled into a frown.

'Not bad? I look like a monster.' he signed with shaky hands, feeling like strangling something.

Indeed he was a monster, inside and out, only you didn't know it and the devil sure will drag you down for what was to come. You found your back against the wall, his tall form in front of you, looking you down. You felt like a small child being scolded by the strict father and you looked away, not able to hold eye contact. One hand pulled your chin up, making you look at Jesse.

'Look at me.' he signed and you felt your lower lip tremble, not out of fear, but more feeling self-conscious, not knowing what to say to make him feel better.

'Go home, shrimp.' he signed, turning away from you.

That nickname made you feel something else; rage.

"No." you simply said, making him stop and look back at you with a cold gaze.

"No. I'm not a shrimp. I'm not a little girl anymore, you know? I'm gonna finish college this year and hopefully get a great job in a prestigious company." you said, voice not shuttering at all, which surprised you.

"I know what you've been through was hard and I don't pity you, because you are stronger than you think, or else you wouldn't be here in front of me, alive. I know it's not the same, but it's not the outside-pack that's important. Everyone will in the end be all wrinkled and pruney at some point. The youth is temporary and isn't the inside that counts, with goods and bads." you blabbered, not stopping at all to give Jesse a chance to sign.

"I'm not a little girl anymore that you can order to walk back to her daddy. I'm a fucking woman now!" you said, a hard look forming on your face.

That declaration really took Jesse by surprise, especially how straightforward you were looking at him, not even a glimpse of disgust in your eyes. Looking you up and down, he could agree with you. You sure grew up from that little girl that he used to make her laugh with goofy faces and jokes, you were no longer underage, you were no longer a clueless little thing that he took ballroom-dancing when there was none around parties to amuse you.

You were a woman now.

The next few seconds were a blurr, because you found your lips assaulted by rough, scarred ones; one of Jesse's hands fisting your hair and the other one around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. It was like millions of fireworks exploded inside your ribcage.

Jesse was prepared for you to push against him, to be completely repulsed, but your actions definitely took him by surprise. Your hands moved to fist his black dress-shirt, pulling him as close to you as possible, your lips moving against his and tongue running shyly over his.

You two kissed like two lovers who have been pulled apart for years, the need, the longing, everything was so intense as the need for air started to be and the kiss was broken, leaving you two to catch your breaths.

This was wrong on so many levels. You were the daughter of one of his very good friends, he could be by age your father, but God did that kiss felt so good and you reciprocated it.

What was so wrong about it?

"Jesse...." you whispered his name, pulling on his dress-jacket, signaling that you wanted it off.

Ohhh....fuck what people think.

Lips crashed down back again into another sloppy kiss, his body backing yours until you two reached the door, opening it and like that the jacket was off onto the white marble floor.

Both your steps took you to the main staircase and Jesse didn't waisted another minute, picking you up and marching towards the master bedroom. Until you reached the destination, clothes flew everywhere in your path; black button-shirt, black slacks along with your white blouse and black jeans, and both your shoes.

Before reaching the master bedroom, Jesse pinned you against the wall of the hallway, leaving opened mouthed kisses down your neck, the only pieces of clothing on you two were the white lingerie set and his black Calvin Klein boxers.

'Are you sure?' he signed, resting his forehead against yours, the only response you could form was a simple nod.

'Are you very sure, because the moment we step into the bedroom I won't be able to stop.'

That promise made a rush of arousal to pool into your panties and getting bolder you took one of his hands, moving it over your soaked panties, his brown eye-widening at how wet you were and all you did was just kiss. His hands moved behind your thighs and picked you up, waltzing into the bedroom and laying you down on the soft black bedsheets.

You stopped him before he could get on top of you, making him feel like you were ready to back up; perhaps you did realize that you didn't want him, but again you took him aback.

"I wanna please you."

He tilted his head, looking down at you curiously as you sat on the edge of the bed.

"I wanna make you feel like a man, one that is very much loved."

Oh, God...How can he deny you, especially when you give him those doe-like eyes of yours?

You motioned for him to move closer to your form, your hands running down his chest and to the waistband of his boxers, biting your lip as you slowly pulled them down. Your expression was probably hilarious because you felt Jesse give a silent laugh.

Ok, he was definitely going to be the biggest you ever had and when you looked up at him and saw that smirk of his, feeling proud of what he was packing, you felt your heartbeat pick up. Slowly, you started to stroke him, up and down, eyes focused on him, then you started to use your mouth, working more on the tip, feeling how his legs tensed every time you run the tip of your tongue over the slit on top of the head.

Jesse was feeling like he was in heaven, your hot mouth so sweetly wrapped around his cock, sucking and fondling his balls, and everything was because you wanted, not because you felt forced or because he paid you. You were genuinely enjoying yourself.

He was going to cum if you kept it like this and he would be damned if he was going to cum like a virgin from a very good blowjob. It's been six months without any sex and jerking off got to a point all boring, so having a young and beautiful girl such as yourself worship his cock like that, really was setting his libido into a howling fit.

His hand moved into your hair and pulled you away from the hard as stell length of his. You got worried, thinking you did something wrong, only to be laid back on the bed, all sprawled under him. He would have loved to bury his face between your legs and choke on your pussy, but his face was still sensitive, even kissing got him a little itching. There was more recuperation progress to do on his face, but until then, he was going to make you scream.

Your hand rested on his neck, feeling his pulse and looking into his brown eye, the other one foggy and probably blind.

"Jesse....I wanna see your face as I cum." you whispered and that was the last straw because in the next 5 seconds you were filled up to the brim with his length, your legs around his waist and hands running down his back, both of you breathing hard.

How could you want him? Someone who could have anyone she desired, you....You desired him.

He would have lasted more than 30 minutes, but everything was coming down on him with such intensity it was hard to hold his orgasm, but it was all worth seeing the lewd faces you made as he pounded himself into you, your moans and praises were all music to his ears.

You cuddled up to him, his hand stroking up and down your lower back and he chuckled silently; you reminded him of a kitten, all content like you just won the jackpot.

"I'm happy to be with you." you whispered, kissing his chest, fingertips running over the skull tattoo.

'You do realize your father will have my head on a stick, right?' he signed with an amused smirk.

"Mhmm...Don't worry. I will protect you." you said and Jesse pulled you onto his lap, smirking at you.

'I'm sure you will, shrimp.'

You gave him a glare, punching playfully on his chest and making him laugh.

"Will you stop with that nickname? I'm not a little girl anymore, dork." you told him, but he shrugged.

'You're still my little girl. You are daddy's little girl.' he signed suggestively, and you squeaked as you felt something poke your behind.

"Jesse!"

[marvelfansince08love]

Small Reminders

Word count: 3306

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Reader

Warning: Some talk of low self-esteem. Delia being a sweetheart. 

Prompts requested: 3 “Just kiss me”, 7 “While they all fall in love with her smile, she waits for one who will fall in love with her scars,”

A/N: Two in one day? What is this madness! Wonderful Anon, enjoy love x

Thanks @imnotasuperhero​ for editing, boo x

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @saucy-sapphic @coconutlipss @creepingwolfberry @muted-stoneheart @chewbacca0805 @witchxaf​ 

Prompts 3, 7

Being one of the only mature students at the academy, made you feel very intimidated and insecure about your abilities as a growing witch. Learning the craft at such an older age meant that the other girls at the academy were very wary around you, as if waiting for you to blow over with this built up power that you never had the chance to unlock. It made you fidgety at first, knowing that eyes were constantly staring at you as if you were this unique creature. 

“How can you go this long without realising the power you possess,” 

“Is she even a witch?” 

You’ve come to ignore the blatant stares and the not so subtle comments wanting to harness your powers into something far more interesting, like manipulating Madison into being overly flirtatious with Zoe to confuse the innocent couple knowing from the rumour mill about their past ‘interests’ with Kyle. You smirk, remembering how during a salty argument between the two girls Madison had reached over and kissed Zoe on her cheek before stepping back horrified by the action, while Zoe blushed red in response. You had hid your amusement behind your open book just as Cordelia Goode had walked into the room, her eyes seeking out your own as if already knowing the cause of such awkwardness and if the twitch of her lips were any indication, she also shared in your amusement. You blush slightly, thinking of the certain blonde head witch, your supreme. 

Cordelia Goode had seeked you out along with her confidant Myrtle Snow after hearing about your small incident with a fire at your country home. She had such kind eyes, the ones you would seek out when in need of comfort. She whispered soft words of reassurance, letting you know you weren’t going crazy. Her touch was soft against your skin that day, tracing along your cheekbones, the touch grounding you leaning into her offered touch.

“You’re safe now, Y/N. Let us take care of you, darling girl.” She had said, her smile bright and easy that it could single handedly stop any war or conflict. She was the most incredible person you had ever met. 

That was over four months ago and you had grown closer to the older woman, seeking out her guidance whenever you were struggling. The others would tease you about your closeness with the supreme but you would argue back that she was just as close to Misty Day as she was you. You would blame it on the similar ages between you three, but you knew that your feelings for the powerful witch were more than just platonic. It only grew with each passing touch on your shoulder, the secret smile and wink she would send to you at the dinner table while the others chatted amongst themselves. 

You continued to think about that particular thought as you grinded down the now dried out herbs in the greenhouse. Apart from the library, this was your favourite place to come and unwind, clearing your thoughts as you worked. The sound of the glass door opening startles you from your work, making you drop the mortar onto the floor with a clang. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Here, let me get the broom and pan.” Delia’s concerned voice rushes, as she makes her way further into the greenhouse heading for the broom to clean up the now broken mortar. You go to protest, trying to justify that it was your fault as you dropped the damn thing. She shakes her head not wanting to hear it. 

“No, it was my fault for startling you while you worked, darling. Let me get this cleaned up and then we can talk.” She informs, making you blush at her pet name for you. You crotch to join her with cleaning up the small broken piece much to her disapproving look. As you pick up the pieces and place them into the dustpan you feel her gaze flickering between your face and the task at hand, sensing her nervousness already. 

“Are you okay, Delia? What is it you wanted to talk to me about?” You ask, taking the initiative to start the conversation. Placing the broken pieces in the pan on top of the table, Delia turns towards you and clasps both your hands in between her own, that breathtaking smile appearing onto her soft features. 

“I have some good news. How do you feel about teaching a class this afternoon? Just some of the basics. It will show the younger girls just how much you’ve come along. A true inspiration.” She gushes, excitement evident in her big dark eyes as they lock with your own conflicted ones. Her smile falters at your lack of enthusiasm at her proposition. “Or not, that’s okay as well,” she retracts but you can hear the disappointment in her voice.

“I uh, I dunno Cordelia. I um... I don’t think I’m good enough to be teaching these young witches anything.” You confess, uncertainty laced within your voice. Dark brows frown at your words as if trying to understand them. 

“Darling girl, you have such a strong power.. I wish you could see just how special you are. I see it within you everyday,” she pauses, removing a hand from around your own to place flat against your heart. Making you inhale deeply at the intimate touch. “I can feel your powers growing stronger every day, Y/N. You have so much to offer, not just to the coven but to yourself.” She finishes, her eyes trying to gaze in your wondering ones not wanting to meet the intensity of her brown eyes.

Keeping your eyes trained to the side you mumble sadly to her. “I wish I could believe that, Miss.Goode. I’m sorry, but I would like to give that a miss but thank you for the opportunity.” You gulp trying to keep the sob from escaping, the negative thoughts about yourself slowly creeping in. You feel her remove her hand from your chest, giving you space to leave knowing you are done with the conversation but ever too polite to say. You bolt out of the room the second she gives you that silent permission. 

***

“You just have to be more patient with her Delia. She’s a sensitive soul, my dear.” Myrtle’s raspy voice advises, ever the wise one. Cordelia sits across from her mentor, one of Misty’s herbal teas brewing between her hands as she takes in her words. Her gaze watching the flames flicker from the fireplace within her bedroom. 

“I don’t know what else I can do. She thinks so little of herself, I can feel the insecurity and doubt seeping from her like a cry for help.” She shakes her head, unable to process just how little you see yourself. 

“She may be able to hide that side of her to the rest of the coven but I can see her, Myrtle.” Her voice trembling, saddened by the fact that you have not been able to make real connections with the rest of the girls. 

Myrtle looks at her daughter with understanding, she was there the day you had both met completely engrossed within each other's presence. It was like she just faded into the background, not that she minded of course. Myrtle loved the idea of Cordelia finally finding someone who would treat her like an equal, but who would love her as if she held the clouds above her. That was the look she saw in your eyes that day as Cordelia cradled your face close to her as you came to terms with who you really are. 

What Cordelia didn’t know was that the redhead had been keeping a close eye on you, way before the accident at the house. She watched you fight with yourself everyday, trying to push aside that negative energy that kept a tight hold on you, the forced smiles you would pull to the others around, fooling them as you fooled yourself that you were happy and content with yourself. Cordelia hadn’t been stupid when Myrtle finally came to her telling her all about this new witch who could use their guidance, she could see the look in her mentors eyes knowing she was up to something. 

As it turned out from the moment that Delia had laid her eyes on you, she knew exactly what she was up to. While Cordelia had healed for the most part from her past traumas, her low self-esteem, never feeling like she could be good enough, could never possibly be up to her mother's high standards. She knew that for you, all those emotions were still new and very raw which was why when she held you that day, she made it her mission to make sure you never were to feel like that again. Myrtle reached across to place her hand on top of Cordelia's free hand and pats in sympathy. 

“You know what you have to do, my dear. Think outside the box.” 

***

Over the last few days, you’ve become very frustrated. Colourful sticky notes have been left purposefully within your path around the academy, all signed to you. This made you nervous, you wondered if Madison had anything to do with it, maybe even Coco. You had returned from your daily meditation with Queenie and Misty, both trailing in behind you. You groaned as soon as you spotted the bright pink note on your vanity table, already feeling your cheeks heat up. You may be frustrated with this mysterious person and their secret notes but it didn’t mean you have grown fond of finding them throughout your day. Queenie snickers behind you, already knowing about the secret notes that you had quizzed her about late last night as you grabbed hold of the tiny piece of paper. 

You are worth so much more than your darkness - Yours X

“Damn girl. This is like what, the seventh one in the last three days?” Queenie comments, peeking over your shoulder at the note as Misty joins her on your other side. 

“We have a lil’ sweetheart on our hands,” Misty comments, taking the note and placing it into the small box that keeps the other heartfelt words locked away from prying eyes. You clear your throat feeling an overwhelming lump in your throat, the words effecting you more than you would like to admit. 

“I’m sure it’s one of the younger girls playing tricks.” You defend, quickly locking the box and putting away. You hear them both scoff behind you before silence settles among the room making you turn to face them in question, eyebrows raised at the mischievous grins.

“What?” Misty gazes away from you as if faking interest in your hanging plant plot on your wall, while Queenie crosses her arms across her chest looking very smug.

“It’s just that… and correct me if I’m wrong, but that handwritin’ looks awfully familiar to me.” Misty says with indifference, stroking the leaf from your plant. You frown at her riddles, slightly frustrated that they both seem to be on the same page while you appeared to be on a different book entirely. 

“Hmm, yeah. Now that you mention it Mist, it looks very familiar to me too,” Queenie plays along, a mischievous glint sparks within her dark eyes as she watches the gears turn in your head. 

“Guys seriously, enough with the mind games. Do you know who this is?” You ask tiredly, indicating to the black engraved box on your table. Misty sways slightly towards you, a bright orange note between her fingertips holding the piece of paper between your face and hers allowing you to grab a hold of the note. 

“I found this on my side of the room. Clearly whoever left it forgot that I shower wayyyy after you do and I know this ain’t for me.” Misty drawls out, a small smirk on her lips. Keeping your eyes locked with the woman, you take the note from her hands and read the black swirling ink. 

While they all fall in love with her smile, she waits for one who will fall                                      in love with her scars. 

                      You may not see it, but I certainly do. 

                               My special darling girl,

                                         Yours X

You re-read the last few lines over and over again, realization dawning upon you as you read the personal nickname that only one certain blonde supreme calls you. Shaking your head, you move to sit onto your bed that lies parallel to Misty’s. The two women sit beside you on the bed as they wait for you patiently to accept who the mysterious person is. 

“But I-” A tut from Queenie stops you in your tracks. 

“You two are so obvious except to each other. You two lock eyes at dinner and I feel like I need to excuse myself,” Queenie teases, gently shoving her shoulder against yours making you fluster at your poor attempts to act normal around the beautiful blonde. 

“I don’t understand.” You mutter, eyes still locked onto the black ink. The two friends lock eyes over your head before they both go to stand. Misty places a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently as if trying to give you the confidence and strength you need. 

“Go talk to Delia, Y/N. She clearly has something to say to you.” Queenie suggests with such kindness that it makes the unshed tears build within your eyes. 

“O-okay, I’ll talk to her.” 

And you did exactly that. 

Later that evening, once the rest of the coven had retreated to their rooms for the night. Queenie and Misty had given you not-so subtle thumbs in as you continued on down the hall towards the supreme’s bedroom where you could see the faint orange light seeping beneath her bedroom door, indicating that she was still in fact awake; much to your relief and dread. 

You breathe out slowly as your fist hovers over the wooden door that is currently stopping you from making either the worst or best decision. With a soft knock and a faint ‘come in’ you open the door and peer through the gap tentatively, feeling your breath hitch at the perfect sight in front of you. Sitting with her back against the arm of the long sofa, her knees up towards her chest as an old book lays open upon her thighs as her long satin black dressing gown hangs low just about touching the cream carpet, is Cordelia with her long blonde locks draped towards her breast her signature black rimmed glasses perched on her perfect nose. She looks up at you as you enter fully into her room smiling softly, shuffling slightly, feeling awkward for interrupting her downtime. Knowing she doesn’t get enough of it due to her status within the coven.

“Hey, darling girl. This is a nice surprise.” She comments, placing her book onto the draw next to the sofa. You gulp at hearing the name that has stirred up so many feelings within you, even more so since reading her last note. You smile shyly and head towards her as she indicates for you to take a seat across from her in the single plush chair. 

“I’m sorry to disturb you so late into the evening, Cordelia. I um- I,” you stutter, suddenly feeling very foolish for coming here in the first place. Cordelia tilts her head in confusion waiting for you to gather yourself. She leans forward and places her hand on your knee, her thumb stroking calm strokes along your bare knee due to the night clothes you were wearing. 

“Darling, what is it?” She asks, her voice awfully soft that you feel your own heart melt by the sound of her tenderness. Instead of answering her you decided to bring forth the note that was read last by magic, watching as her eyes widen momentarily before the corners of her big doe eyes crease due to the knowing smile that appears onto her soft pink lips.

“Ah, so you finally figured it out.” Is all she says as she leans back, crossing one leg over the other. Looking regal as ever and so, so calm. God I hate that she can be like that during these types of conversations. 

‘You secretly love it though,’ you remind yourself. 

“I just- I just don’t understand why. Why the secret notes? The words used? I don’t understand why you would send them to me of all people.” You admit, dropping your gaze as to not show her just how affected you are by those words. 

Cordelia moves from the other side of the sofa and around towards you. Crouching in front of your hunched figure, she grasps your chin between her thumb and index finger forcing you to look at her. 

“They are reminders.” You frown at that, still not quite understanding which makes her lips twitch attempting to smile at just how oblivious you were.  

“Reminders of just how perfect you really are to me. It’s how I see you, Y/N. I know you have scars that cut deep, maybe even as deep as mine. I get you like no one else does because I’ve been there, my darling. You may be able to hide behind that forced beautiful smile of yours but I can see the sadness in your eyes.” She declares, brushing her thumb across your wet cheeks collecting the fallen tears that roll quietly down your face. 

“I don’t deserve your kind words, Delia.” You whisper, unable to make your words clear in fear of breaking down. “I’m just so tired.” You splutter out before dropping your chin down to your chest, unable to keep her gaze. It’s far too understanding and kind towards you, and you aren’t used to having such compassion. 

“Shhh shh, it’s okay. It’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” She hushes, standing to allow you to collapse forward burying your face into her stomach as she keeps you close. Once you feel the last remaining tear fall, you exhale deeply trying to compose yourself. 

Looking up at the blonde witch you feel that overwhelming sense of love again for her, that contentedness that grounds you whenever you are around her. Something shifts between you in that moment as you lock eyes with the blonde beauty, her hands move from behind your head to cup your jaw prompting you to stand so you are more equal to her. Standing a breath away from her, you take in her features as she does the same, as if silent words are being exchanged.

“This may be a bit forward of me but-”

“Just kiss me, Delia.” You force out, your need evident. As you brush your lips lightly across her own. Hearing the slight intake of breath, indicating just how affected she is by your demand. Pressing hard, you allow yourself to sink into her hold. The feel of her soft full lips finally against your own, you can’t help the satisfying moan that escapes your throat making her moan back in response. 

“God, I could kiss you forever and never get tired of it.” She breathes, her voice raspy and desperate. 

“Who’s stopping you?” You whisper back. Your eyes hooded with arousal as you take in her swollen lips. At that, Cordelia smashes her lips against your own silencing any more conversation for the rest of the night. 

You both knew there was more left unsaid but for right now, you’d show each other just how worthy you are to one another by gentle touches, soft kisses and gentle promises of forever.