#I wish my body could still have outdoor jobs

[alder-knight]

it feels so unforgivably bourgeois and middle class to be shopping for a laptop when the desktop computer I bought in 2012 still works just fine

[praisethegabs]

HEALING

Re2r!Leon Kennedy x Scientist!Reader

synopsis: leon is in the process of healing, and this is something that requires patience, attention, kindness, and empathy. after everything he went through in the lab, now he is slowly adjusting to the world again, and he needs you more than never. you know he'll live with the scars for the rest of his life, but all that matters is his safety and the new memories he'll make.

warnings: small angst (bc why not?) at first, but ends with fluff. mentions of ptsd, nightmares, traumas, and a lot of care. reader is very supportive and patient with him. the parts in italic are from flashbacks.THIS CONTAINS HEAVY DESCRIPTIONS OF ABUSE! Do NOT read it if triggers you!

word count: 4845k

a/n: this is the second part for Freak, so you guys need to read it first! I wrote it at my job and I was really scared that someone would catch me. Anyways, enjoy it 🩵

TAG: @navstuffs

"things will dissolve and be released and settled into spaces, and you will find your place in this vast and brilliant world." Seeker

He still had nightmares.

And they keep him awake most of the night. He would wake up screaming, his body drenched in sweat, his breath labored, and his limbs trembling as if an electric current surged through his veins. Feeling scared, he seeks comfort, something small to reassure him that he isn't in the cold, white lab anymore.

Sometimes, his nightmares were so deep and dark that it was difficult to bring him back to the waking world.

But you knew since that day that he would go through with this. Although he was no longer in the lab, Leon still suffered from the aftermath of the events. He was haunted by the trauma and horrors he had experienced for many years.

The first weeks at your country house demanded a lot of energy from you. Leon was so exhausted and weak that it seemed like he wouldn't make it. You had to bathe him, change the bandages on his wounds, and essentially encourage him to eat. Eventually, he regained his body weight, and it wasn't necessary to keep the IV on him anymore. This was a significant progress.

But still, neither you nor he would talk about the lab.

It was a forbidden subject, mostly because you knew Leon had PTSD. Considering his well-being, you decided not to discuss what had happened. The stressful experiments, abuse, and everything else left him scared, traumatized, and with deep trust issues, causing him to have no trust in you whatsoever. But with patience and care, he was slowly starting to see you as his friend, not as a threat.

After two months at your country house, Leon was still recovering. Now, he was able to walk around the house without the IV pole next to him, and he didn't feel weak. You had a special diet made for him to help him regain his weight, and it was effective. Secretly, he loved your cooking, but he would never say that - at least not aloud.

Besides following a special diet, he had a rigorous workout routine. He enjoyed exercising outdoors, admiring the lush, green landscape, and basking in the warmth of the sun. After spending so many years trapped inside a padded room, he was always amazed by the beauty of nature. It didn't matter how many days he had already spent sitting in the grass, simply watching the sunset. He felt at peace.

And all of that, thanks to you.

"Please, I... I don't want it," Leon begged, his eyes tearing up as he saw you approaching with a syringe.

"Leon, I promise I won't hurt you," you sighed, as you attempted to administer the medicine. "It's just medicine."

"But it's going to hurt!" Leon shouted, backing against the wall, his body already trembling.

"I wish I could take pills, but this particular medication cannot be given in pill form, Lee," you said as you sat on his bed, attempting to convince him. "And I promise, you won't need to take the medication again. This is the last one."

Leon glanced at you, tears already streaming down his cheeks. It was extremely challenging to administer the medications he required, mainly because they all had to be injected into his body using a syringe, and, understandably, he had a strong aversion to needles.

"The last one?" He asked, searching for any sign of reassurance on your face. Noticing that, you simply nodded your head.

"Yes, the last one. After that, you will be taking pills or liquid. I didn't have time to buy any other medication," you explained to him calmly, hoping he would understand. "If you want to improve, you need to take your medication, okay?"

"But..."" His voice cracked for a moment, and then he looked down, avoiding eye contact. Tears were still falling down his face.

"I know, I know..." you gently approached him, sitting beside him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, gently embracing him. "You're doing well, do you know that? I'm proud of you."

"Am I?" He glances at you, searching once again for reassurance, to which you nod.

"So, will you be brave and let me administer the medicine?" You smiled, finally persuading him to trust you to do your job.

Leon nodded, and you helped him sit back on his bed. He extended his arm, allowing you to inject the needle into his vein. You prepared everything, gently cleaning his arm with a damp cotton pad and antiseptic solution. Right before administering the medication, you glanced at him.

"Alright, close your eyes for me," you instruct him, and he obediently complies by tightly shutting his eyes. "Good boy."

Leon smirks slightly and then groans softly as he feels the needle piercing his skin. A single tear fell from his eye when you finally administered the medication. When you finished, you covered the small bleeding wound with a cute band-aid.

"See?" It's done," you stroke his hair as a way to comfort him after he successfully tackled something that made him feel uneasy. "You did really well."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, sounding sad. Then, when his eyes met yours, he was on the verge of tears once more.

"You don't need to be sorry, sweetheart. I just want you to know that I am not mad at you for being scared, okay? You went through a lot, and now you're healing," you reassured him, gently holding his hands and intertwining them with yours.

Now that he was doing better, you were starting to worry about Umbrella finding you again. Before you left, you made the decision to find a secluded country house, far enough from the city that nobody would disturb you. It was almost like reaching another level. You took numerous safety precautions to ensure that they would not find Leon again.

You never told him about this. You didn't want him to be scared, especially now that he's finally recovering. Not only that, but you knew that someday you would have to tell him. However, this wasn't the best moment to do so. Thinking about the possibility, you had already formulated a Plan B and made all the necessary preparations to start again if needed. As long as you keep him safe, everything will be just fine.

Now, he is enjoying the peaceful life he deserves. No more tests, experiments, or abuse. Just calm and peace of mind.

"Leon!" You shouted his name from the kitchen and waved at him. "Dinner's ready!"

"Alright, I'm coming," you saw him nod his head, then redirect his attention to the sunset again. You smiled softly, knowing that he wouldn't see it.

He was a good boy, still learning about the world. He still had some submissive traits, but he was learning that he had the power to refuse and express his feelings and thoughts. Teaching Leon that he was allowed to say "no" was the next step in this journey, although you were having some trouble doing so.

"This smells good," Leon said as he walked into the house through the kitchen door. "What is it?"

"Can you guess?" You smiled at him, positioning yourself in front of the oven to block his view of what you were baking.

"It smells like... lasagna," he blushed deeply. On Fridays, you usually pamper him by giving him a break from his diet.

"Yep." "That's right," you nodded, smiling. Without hesitation, Leon set the table, preparing for dinner. "Thanks, sweetheart."

You both sat at the ornate wooden table for dinner. While you gave him a slice, you could see his eyes shining. Back at the lab, the food Leon had barely eaten smelled and tasted awful. That's why he was so skinny and weak, but now he can eat whatever he wants. Lasagna was one of his favorite dishes.

"I had a dream last night," Leon said after a moment. He glanced at you, expecting your attention.

"Really? About what?” you asked curiously, smiling at him again.

"I don't remember exactly, but... I think it was me before the lab," he said, and the last word sounded cold. "I was happy."

"Aren't you happy now?" You asked again, taking a bite of your lasagna before redirecting your gaze towards him.

His face turned pale, and he started to stutter again in response to your sudden question.

"Relax, I'm just teasing you," you laughed, trying to lighten his mood. He sighed, feeling relieved. "This is a good thing, I suppose." "You're improving, and soon you'll be able to leave if you want."

"Leave?" He raised his eyebrows, displaying visible confusion.

"Yes. You can now make your own choices, Leon. This means you can decide whether to stay or go," you smiled softly, then held his hand again.

"But... I don't want to go. I want to stay here... with you," he almost whispered the last part, but you managed to hear it nonetheless. "You're the only person I know, and the only one who cares about me. I feel safe with you, and for the first time in my entire life, I am happy."

His words were full of honesty. The way he looked at you and the sincerity behind every word he spoke. You nodded once more, then embraced him tenderly. At this point, you had nothing else to say. Instead, you felt butterflies in your stomach and a warm sensation in your chest. You wouldn't force Leon to stay with you against his own will, but now, if he wanted to do so, you wouldn't refuse.

"Are you sure about that?" You asked him after you broke the embrace, gazing into his baby blue eyes.

"Yes, I do," he nodded, whispering. He closed his eyes for a moment, gently touching his forehead to yours in a tender manner.

You're reading a book, one of your favorites. You don't remember exactly when this started happening, but now it serves as a form of therapy for both of you. He lies between your thighs, you stroke his hair, and everything is at peace.

Leon was peacefully lying in your lap, his body comfortably nestled between your thighs, and his head resting on your stomach as you gently stroked his blonde hair. You can't tell if he's awake or asleep, but you know he's calm because of his gentle breathing. His thumb traces circles on your leg, and for a long moment, there is only the sound of rain and the warmth emanating from the fireplace.

“NO! NO, PLEASE!” Leon woke up screaming in the middle of the night. "Shit, holy shit."

"Leon, what's going on?" You opened his door to find him shirtless and gasping for breath. Sweat fell down his face, and his frightened blue eyes sought solace.

"I... I had an n-nightmare,” he said, his voice cracking and his entire body shaking with fear.

He started to cry, sobbing loudly. Leon tried to hide his face in the blankets, but you gently uncovered his face, embracing him tightly. You sighed, but you didn't say a word about it. With a gentle touch, you began to stroke his hair, softly whispering a lullaby in his ear to soothe him.

"I was there again. They were hurting me," Leon hissed, his voice still cracking with tears and sobs. "I can't sleep."

He looks at you, and seeing him in such a broken and vulnerable state makes your heart ache. He feels guilty. He thinks he's a burden, and you shouldn't waste your time with him. None of this is true, of course, and you still need to remind him of that.

“I-I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you up," he sobs quietly, closing his eyes and examining his own hands. The intravenous line on his right hand is covered with transparent bandages, which are connected to the pole next to his side. This serves as a constant reminder of how frail his body is.

"It's okay, don't worry about it. Come here, come lie with me." You gently hold his hand, leading him to your room.

Leon nodded, and with his slow pace, he followed you while holding his IV pole for support. It has only been two weeks since you brought him to your country house, and he still struggles with nightmares. He walks very slowly, and fatigue quickly overcomes him. You open the door and walk beside him until you reach your king-size bed, seating him on the mattress and adjusting the bedside table next to his side.

"I wish I could chase away the monsters... I wish I could protect you even as you sleep, but I can't," you whispered, kneeling on the floor, still holding his hand, and witnessing the pain he is in. "But I'm here, and nothing bad will ever happen to you again."

"I'm sorry," he sobs quietly, avoiding your gaze.

"Remember what I told you? There's nothing to be sorry for," you smiled gently, pushing the blankets away so he could lay down. "This isn't your fault."

"Back at the lab, they always made me think everything was my fault. They used to say that I deserved to be punished, that I deserved to be hurt and treated like some kind of animal," Leon said vaguely, his face still down as he avoided your gaze. "You know, one of the rules was that we shouldn't talk unless spoken to, and we could only say 'yes, sir' or 'yes, ma'am'. But even when we were allowed to talk, they would beat us and say that we deserved it."

Leon never spoke about the lab, and you never insisted on discussing the subject. You knew that one day he would open up to you, but you never thought it would happen after a nightmare. So, you decided to show your support by letting him vent, holding his hand, and ensuring he knew he was safe.

"During my first month, I was beaten up almost every day, at least ten times. They would often beat me simply because I was an innocent child who would cry out for my mother and plead for help. I was naive, but after a while, I learned the hard way that I wouldn't be rescued and my parents were not coming for me," Leon says, and you can see that he's crying again. He bites his lower lip, breathes in and out, and shakes once more. "There was a doctor. He pretended to be my friend, but... he touched me. I cried. I felt dirty and scared. He was supposed to take care of me, not hurt me the way he did… he said I could trust him, but when I did, he turned into a monster. He touched me for months, and nobody took any action. One day, when he tried to touch me, I fought back. This caused me to spend a month or two inside a cold, concrete cell, but it was worth it. I never saw him again"

You were shocked by his story. His file didn't contain this information, and you began to ponder what other things they were hiding. You felt disgusted.

"After I attacked the doctor, the situation deteriorated. They locked me inside a concrete cell. It was so cramped that I had very little space to move around. To make matters worse, the cell had an open top, which meant that whenever it rained, I would get drenched and remain wet for hours until the rain finally stopped. When the rain stopped, they would enter the cell and take me out, usually beating me and locking me up again," Leon let out a loud sob and a deep hiccup. His nose and eyes were red at this point. "But I didn't care. At least, I could feel the cold rain and the warmth of the sun, and I could breathe fresh air. He never touched me again. I don't know what happened, but ever since that day, I learned the hard way that I couldn't trust anyone."

He glances at you. His baby blue eyes shone with tears and sadness, his soul shattered into a thousand pieces, desperately seeking healing. Trying to find peace.

“I know none of this is my fault, but no matter how hard I try to convince myself, when I look in the mirror, I remember what he did to me and… and…” he doesn't finish his sentence. Leon started to cry again, and you immediately leaned in and rested his head on your shoulder.

The way he cried made his body ache, and you could feel him jerking as he sobbed loudly, to the point where he shut down completely. His mind is in chaos, he is drowning in darkness, and everything is a mess. He cannot talk, and he cannot breathe. You had never seen him like that before, and it scared you.

"It's okay, everything will be alright, I promise," you whispered, gently kissing the top of his head to soothe him.

It took at least an hour for Leon to completely calm himself down. You managed to lay him on your bed, using the blanket to cover him and keep his body warm. Gently, you moved his hair away from his face and hugged him tightly. Leon was so close to you that you could feel his breath on your face. You gently traced your fingers down his back, mindful of his limits, until he fell asleep.

It was the first time he had slept the entire night.

"What are you reading?" he asks in a husky voice after a moment of silence.

"Hamlet," you replied softly, your fingers entwined in his hair as you gently stroked it.

"Can you read it for me?" he asks softly, lifting his head so he can see you with his big, puppy-like blue eyes. "I like hearing you."

As the rain tapped lightly against the windowpane, you sat comfortably on the sofa with Leon's head cradled in your lap. The room was filled with the comforting scent of old books and bathed in a soft, warm glow emitted by the lamp on the side table. You turned the pages of the weathered book, your fingers tracing the well-worn lines of Shakespeare's Hamlet.

Leon's eyes were closed, his breathing steady and rhythmic, and a faint smile played on his lips as he listened to your voice. Your words flowed like a gentle stream, carrying the weight of a timeless tale. You read with a soft, melodic cadence, your voice rising and falling, like the raindrops outside the window.

"To be or not to be, that is the question," you began, your voice filled with contemplation. "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them."

The rain outside seemed to synchronize with the soliloquy, its gentle patter against the glass creating a soothing backdrop for Shakespeare's words. You continued, your fingers running through Leon's hair, reciting, "To die: to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished."

Your voice wove a tapestry of emotions, your words caressing Leon's soul as the story of Hamlet unfolded. He felt so at peace, as if nothing in this world could ruin this moment. He loved the way you read to him. He loves being touched by you.

For someone who was treated like an animal for most of his life, being treated as a human being with feelings and emotions certainly caused him to break. Leon never thought he could escape his nightmare. He never imagined that his life would turn out like this. Two months ago, Leon gave up all hope he had. He made peace with himself, accepting that he would die in the lab.

But you saved him.

You saved him in every possible way. You came when everything seemed to be lost, when all he knew was darkness and pain. You were the light he needed, the touch of the sun, the warmth of an embrace, and the happiness he desperately craved. You were the missing piece he had been searching for all those years. But until this very moment, he had to walk a long road.

The moonlight bathed the countryside in an ethereal glow, and Leon had spent a week recuperating in the country house, gradually healing his body and spirit. After his first week at home, you observed him gradually regain strength, patiently anticipating the opportune moment to provide him with a symbolic liberation from his past. Finally, put an end to this chapter once and for all. On this particular night, after serving him dinner, you approached his bedside with a gentle expression, filled with kindness and determination.

"Leon, I have something for you," you whispered, your voice soft and soothing. "I think it's time for us to finally leave the lab behind and move on."

Leon, still weak and pale, looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. He was beginning to trust you implicitly, but the memories of the lab still clung to him like shadows.

"What do you mean?" Leon asks, his voice still weak and husky, as if he's struggling to stay awake.

"Come with me," you smiled soothingly at him, stroking his hair.

With great care, you helped him to his feet, wrapping a warm shawl around his shoulders, while he used the pole to support his weight. You both walked slowly, your steps synchronized with his weakened state, into the embrace of the moonlit night. Leon's steps were still uncertain, and his body felt fragile after a week of rest and recovery. The path you two followed led to a field — an expanse of wildflowers in full bloom. This field was alive with the beauty of wildflowers swaying in the gentle breeze. It was a symbol of nature's resilience and the potential for fresh starts. The fragrant air surrounded both of you, providing a refreshing contrast to the sterile environment of the lab.

You led him to a makeshift altar beneath a towering oak tree, with candles flickering and dancing in the breeze. On the altar, you placed a small bundle of clothes — the very same garments he had worn as a test subject in the lab.

"Leon Scott Kennedy," you said softly, "Today marks one week since we left the lab, and it has been a week since you embarked on your new life. I want you to leave the past behind and find closure. I want you to find peace and happiness, but for that, we need to do something first. These clothes represent the darkest chapter of your life. It's time to say goodbye to them."

As you handed him the old lab coat, the attire itself served as a constant reminder of his torment. The fabric was worn and tattered, bearing the marks of his suffering. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers trembling. The memories, the pain, the suffering — all were contained in that fabric. The old uniform was worn and tattered, bearing the marks of his suffering. But now, it was time to let go. With a deep breath, he placed the clothes on the fire that you had kindled.

The flames engulfed the garments, and the flickering light cast dancing shadows on Leon's tear-streaked face. The clothes started to burn, gradually disintegrating into ashes and embers. As he watched the fire consume his past, tears started to blur his vision. As the fire engulfed them with a voracious intensity, consuming them bit by bit, you witnessed Leon's tears cascading down his face.

He cried for the pain he had endured, for the years stolen from him, and for the loss of innocence. But with each tear that fell, a weight lifted from his shoulders.

You held him close, with your arm around his shoulders, and whispered, "It's okay to cry, Leon. You're finally free."

He sank to his knees in the field filled with wildflowers, his heart burdened by the weight of his past but also uplifted by the promise of a fresh start. As the last of the lab clothes turned to ashes, Leon realized that he had emerged from the darkness. He was no longer a guinea pig, but a man, free to write the story of his own life.

He cried so much that night. He finally found peace.

Leon stood on the porch of the charming country house, holding a cup of steaming tea. The world around him was a picturesque canvas of green hills and blooming wildflowers. Birds sang a melodious chorus, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient trees. The air was filled with a sense of peace he had never experienced before.

The next morning, you woke up and found his bed empty. This had become quite normal by now. Leon always wakes up before you and prepares breakfast. So, after getting out of bed and taking care of your morning routine, you went downstairs. The kitchen door was open, and a chilly breeze blew in. Despite the sun shining in the sky, it was still cold. You spotted him and smiled, grabbing your coffee mug.

As Leon sipped his tea, his thoughts wandered back to the years he had spent as a captive in that sterile lab. The painful experiments, the isolation, and the uncertainty, each memory weighed heavily on his soul. He had endured the unimaginable, and yet, here he was - finally free.

The contrast between his past and the serene present was staggering. He had been reduced to a mere subject of scientific curiosity, dehumanized and robbed of his dignity. But now, in the tranquil countryside, he was rediscovering the true essence of life.

He had his eyes fixed on a solitary red rose that swayed gently in the breeze. As he gazed at the rose, he couldn't help but wonder about the life he had missed during his captivity. His mind was filled with a whirlwind of questions. What had he missed while he was trapped? How has the world outside changed? What had become of his family and friends, if they still existed at all? Leon's thoughts were a labyrinth of uncertainty, a journey through the mysteries of his past.

A butterfly landed on a nearby flower, and he watched it with fascination. It was a symbol of freedom and transformation, a reminder that he too had the chance to start anew. With each passing day, he rediscovered the simple joys of life — the taste of fresh strawberries, the sound of laughter after a joke, and the sensation of grass under his fingers.

As the rose swayed in the breeze, he silently made a silent promise to himself: to cherish every moment of freedom, to embrace the beauty of the world, and to make the most of the life that had been stolen from him for far too long.

"I know you're watching me," Leon says, not turning back to face you, and taking another sip of his tea. Chamomile is his favorite.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you said, getting closer to him and standing by his side.

"I never thought I would see the world again. I kept imagining things in my mind as a way to escape that hell and forget the pain. But now that I'm here, I have a new chance, and I don't intend to waste the rest of it." Leon looks at you tenderly, his hand reaching out for yours. "I thought I was going to die in there, but you saved me. You gave me my life back, you helped me heal, and I'm here today because of you."

The smile on your lips was almost involuntary.

"I know it was hard for you, but thank you for not giving up on me," he says, his baby blue eyes locked onto yours.

"I would never give up on you, Leon," you almost whisper, your voice filled with a sudden happiness you never knew existed.

He smiled, then kissed your forehead. As the sun rose, the two of you sat side by side, observing the sky and the sunlight caress the lush field. After all this time, he allowed himself to feel again, and at first, it felt strange. It felt uncomfortable. He was scared that he would be hurt until you proved to him that you were not like the others. The way you made him feel, the way you showed him that life could be simple, and that it was okay to feel and be afraid sometimes, changed him. He was insecure, traumatized, and scared. You helped him see the other side of life. You found him when he was lost. Now, he had something to believe.

He was free, and he had you by his side. And no one would ever take his freedom away again. 

[the-dixon-effect]

Sticks and Stones

A/N: dear fic writers, consider this a public service announcement. DO NOT schedule a week of fic writing that coincides with a camping trip, it is hell!!!!

era: season 3-4, prison era

summary: Y/N suffers from chronic pain in her feet, but hates to feel vulnerable around others so constantly overworks herself. perhaps a certain archer could be the right kind of medicine... | requested from this ask by @justalexheree :) guys i really did my research for this one so i hope you enjoy ^.^

pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

words: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of chronic foot pain ig?? lil' time jump

It must be late by now, you thought. You were hesitant to look up to check the position of the sun for fear of getting distracted. You were crouched down, working out in the allotment around the front of the prison. The farm was a brilliant idea, you decided, despite the high amount of labour that was necessary to feed the residents of the prison-turned-camp. God knows you needed the food. Perhaps if the members of your community were aware of your condition, you wouldn't be forced to work out here all day, practically sweating your skin off in the Georgia sun. It didn't matter anyway, 'cause you couldn't let that happen.

So here you were, digging up soil and planting seeds 'til the sun disappeared behind the trees. It was somewhat enjoyable, you convinced yourself, of course you had your thoughts and daydreams to entertain yourself, and back in your old life you would have never found yourself spending so much time outdoors. Even so, a mundane office job might have arguably been a little better for your body. You constantly found yourself having to distract yourself from the persistent ache in your feet, maybe some company would do you good, you thought.

"Hey, we're all eatin' inside, ya can prolly finish up now," you heard the familiar voice of the crossbow-wielding man from several metres away. You knew you needed to stop, but there was still work to be done. If only there was enough food in the first place, then maybe you would let yourself resign to the dining area. Save it for those who needed it, you thought.

"Alright, I'll be inside in a second," That was a lie. It's not like the rest of the group would notice your absence, you figured. You better just stay out here a little longer, making sure the crops were tended to until it was dark. Then maybe you'd get some rest. For now, you didn't need to eat. Truthfully, your feet were killing you and it felt like you could keel over at any second. Get over yourself, you said, over and over in your mind, these people need feeding.

You remembered the look the archer gave you when he called you inside, observing how you were the only person left out in the field. You turned to check if he had left and, to your surprise, he was still stood watching, hands buried in his pockets as he looked straight ahead and met your eyes.

"C'mon," he shouted across the distance between the two of you. You couldn't really say no to him, except he left you wondering why he was so eager for you to join him. You put down your equipment and split from whatever idle job you had yourself occupied with. Something you did appreciate about the humble farmer's life was the reasonable tan you had acquired, which was on display in your little denim shorts as you jogged up to meet him. A part of you wished Daryl would notice.

"Ya' alrigh'? Yer limpin'," he asked, meanwhile you were contemplating on the fact that this might be the most words you'd ever heard the archer speak, to your face anyway. Your lack of association with the man didn't stop you from admiring from afar, though.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Been a long day."

"I bet," he replied, walking side-by-side with you up to the building entrance. You thought it was sweet how he paid attention to you and noticed something like that. Maybe one day you'd open up about your condition, when it felt right.

3 MONTHS LATER

You looked around the room, searching for Daryl's eyes. Today, more than ever, you needed to be with him. After months of breaking down his thick walls, it was safe to say that he'd become one of the most important people in your life. Your feet were hurting like hell today, and the only thing that would make you feel better right now was his presence.

He'd been out on a solo run, which you'd begged Rick to let you join him, ultimately to your disappointment. So you spent your day as you always did, out in the pasture, tending to the crops. After a while you headed back inside in hopes of finding Daryl, perched at one of the rusty tables, waiting for you. To your dismay, you couldn't find him anywhere.

You approached Rick with a worried look shaping your features, "Where's Daryl? Is he back yet?" you asked, your voice laced with concern. "Nah, he's not back yet," sensing your anxiety, he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and spoke, "Y/N, he's gonna be fine. Anyway, he's scheduled to be back in... about an hour."

So you waited. And waited. It felt like the longest 60 minutes of your life, busying yourself in your cell by reading a book that Carol recommended, not absorbing a single word. By the time you decided that there was nothing else you could do to distract yourself, you headed downstairs and made idle chatter with one of the prison newcomers, Karen.

"I hear your boyfriend Daryl's coming back from a run today," she said.

"Oh, no, he's not my boyfriend," you said with a slight giggle.

"Oh, right! Gosh, it's just that you two are so close, I just figured- you know what, nevermind, ignore me," she said with a chuckle.

You smiled and looked at the floor, and tried to silence your anxious thoughts about whether something might have happened to him, if he's hurt, or anything. At this, the double-doors swung open and in walked the man you'd been waiting for for the last 48 hours. You approached him, suppressing the relief and excitement you felt just from seeing him walk through those doors. His eyes lit up at your welcoming smile, and maybe, just maybe, he would be inclined to embrace you right here if the prison foyer wasn't so crowded.

For now, he had other things on his mind that he needed to clear with you. Just like you, he spent the last 48 hours worrying more about your safety than he did his own. He regretted not being able to stay with you, or at least bring you along with him. He was the only person who knew about your condition and how badly you were affected by it, which meant he felt an immense responsibility to take care of you and offer you acts of service. Not to mention, you were also the only person who Daryl felt totally comfortable around, comfortable enough to share some of his childhood trauma and emotion with. You liked to think the two of you had a special bond, but despite your healthy friendship, you couldn't help wanting more. Either way, all he wanted right now was to be with you and to not have to deal with anyone else in this damn place.

Maggie shot you a mischievous look from across the room as you tugged on the archer's sleeve. You rolled you eyes at her following Daryl up the steel staircase and entered his cell. You sat down next to him on the mattress and he copied you by rolling his head back against the cool brick wall. You sighed in contentment, still in somewhat pain in your feet.

"So, how'd it go?" you asked, turning to face him.

"Was fine. Are ya' alrigh'?" you noticed how he changed the subject, sensing his concern.

"Yeah, I'm okay. It's just a little relentless, you know," you felt a little guilt for immediately beginning to talk about yourself, even when you knew you needed his comfort. His closeness was good enough for you.

"Mm, I know. Ya' gotta stop overworkin' yerself, ya know," he drawled. His pretty eyes were staring deeply at you now.

"Uh-huh. It's just, it's kind of relentless, you know. Like nothing I do makes it better. There's no distraction that works," it felt undeniably good to talk to someone about it, someone who understands. Someone who doesn't subject you to the same stereotypes or think that you're making it up. He wrapped an arm around you and you instinctively rested your head in the crook of his neck. He smelled delicious, like the outdoors, mixed with the distinct notes of Marlboro cigarettes and stormy weather. This was a pretty good distraction, you thought.

"Hey, I'll always make a run into some pharmacy to get ya yer meds, or anythin' like tha'," he spoke softly with his lips resting on the top of your head, occasionally brushing against your silky hair. "Jus' tell me what ya' need." It was this. You needed this.

“I just need you.”

[gary-mu]

Breaking the rules

Pairing: Kishibe x female/afab reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2626

Warnings/Tags: pwp, age difference, dirty talk, teasing, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, outdoor-sex, semi-public sex, Kishibe being a horny bastard.

Summary: After a surprisingly successful mission, you and your teammates decide to grab some drinks. Kishibe, your captain, agrees to come along and have some fun with the team.

Little you knew the night would bring you more than alcohol and laughter. A special reward for your victory was waiting for you in the shape of an old hunter with a liking for booze, killing demons... and you.

A/N: When it comes to this man, I just can't get my mind out of the gutter 🥵🥵🥵

Enjoy my beloved Kishibe simps :)

Cover by: @edpanart

Read it on AO3

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The night is young, alcohol is flowing, and conversations are getting livelier and livelier. The atmosphere is filled with camaraderie and the satisfaction of knowing that the entire team survived the last mission. Today there are enough reasons to celebrate.

Your job as a demon hunter has taught you -the hard way- that you only live once, and you have to live each day as if it were your last. Tonight, it means getting drunk and forgetting about the world for a while.

On the other side of the small wooden table -right in front of you- sits the legendary Captain Kishibe nursing his fifth glass of whiskey. You still find it hard to believe that he has accepted your invitation to come along, but you are glad he has. His presence makes you feel safe. After all, thanks to him, many of those present did not suffer a slow and painful death. But there is something beyond your admiration for him, something less noble and more primitive. 

Your eyes travel from Kishibe's long fingers to his strong biceps -visible under the white fabric of his shirt- then to his mouth. Letting your imagination run wild, you press your thighs together, trying in vain to relieve the tension that continues to increase with each fantasy. Your body temperature rises, and you open a couple of buttons on your shirt to cool down.

Kishibe has drunk a lot, but his perception has not been affected. For several minutes now, the hunter has noticed the weight of your gaze on him. More than being annoying, it arouses his curiosity. Once your attention makes it hard for him to concentrate on the conversation with other teammates, he turns to look at you. His deep grey eyes seem to search your soul until they reveal your darkest secret. Everything is so sudden that you don't have time to hide your longing gaze.

Oh, little bunny. If you come closer, I might eat you alive. Kishibe thinks, emptying his glass while he holds your gaze. He needs nothing more than to look into your eyes to know what you want from him. Hot blood rushes through his veins at the possibility of having found a new toy, and suddenly the night becomes a lot more interesting. Will you let me sink my fangs into your soft flesh?  The question floats in his mind, and he wishes you could read his thoughts and see all he can offer you if you accept his proposal.

If alcohol wasn't starting to cloud your common sense, you'd probably be ashamed of the improper way you look at your superior. But lucky for you, he doesn't seem to mind it at all. You might even say he enjoys it. Kishibe's eyes are glued to you. His fingers stroke the empty glass between them with the sole intention of torturing you. Finally, the tingling sensation between your legs and the effort you're making not to jump on him and rip his clothes off in front of the whole division force you to get up, excuse yourself and go out for some fresh air. Maybe the older hunter will get the hint and decide to follow you, or the breeze will turn off your arousal. Either way, you would be happy.

The chill air blows gently on your face, the sounds of the city surround you in their chaotic melody, and you close your eyes, letting them clear your mind. Five more minutes, and you can go back inside with your teammates without worrying about the effect Kishibe has on you. But when you thought you were back to normal, you perceive the restaurant door open behind you, then the distinctive click of a lighter. Your heart skips a beat, and you open your eyes wide to be met by the imposing presence of your captain.

"I know what you want, Y/N." Kishibe's deep voice prevents any other sound from reaching your ears, claiming your attention.

A few moments before, you would have pulled him to you to catch his lips in a fiery kiss, but the hustle and bustle in the street have mitigated the effect of those glasses of beer you drank as if it were water. Now shame returns to keep you from making a fool of yourself.

"I-I-I don't know..." you try to lie, but his intense gaze frustrates any attempt to pretend you don't know what he means. Instead, you decide to shut up and avoid his eyes, clenching your fists as if it might keep your cheeks from turning crimson.

"It's okay," Kishibe reassures, blowing some smoke as he approaches. "There's no need to deny it. I saw the way you were looking at me back there. I am not blind, you know?" he reveals matter-of-factly without a hint of anger or discomfort.

What now?  You ask yourself, afraid to answer your question. A side of you wants to apologize, blame it on the alcohol, and pray it won't get you in trouble. But the other one -the one who's currently winning- wants to move forward, to take the first step and beg your superior to rail you because your arousal would drive you mad otherwise. Because you need him buried deep inside you since the first time you crossed paths with him and his sinful magnetism.

"Do you want it now?" Kishibe offers, with a voice like dark chocolate, rough and tempting. The cigarette burning in his fingers falls to the floor and dies under the sole of his combat boots.

The hunter's movements are calm, and his face remains serene, but just like you, he can't wait to touch you, to have you wrapped around him and make you moan his name again and again. If it wasn't because you are in the middle of a celebration and his presence is required to boost the team's confidence, he'd take you home and spend the whole night making you come until you beg him to stop. But he knows that would be too much to ask. He'll have to settle for a few minutes, knowing it will be enough to become your new addiction.

"Yes," you reply immediately, forgetting the rules, the chain of command, and the shame you'll feel tomorrow when alcohol is no longer flowing through your veins. The hunter answers your impatience with a satisfied grin and a soft "Come with me."

An eternity passes as you follow your superior into a dark alley behind the bar. The pounding of your heart in your ears prevents you from hearing your footsteps, and your body trembles despite the fire burning inside you. Suddenly, as if you've fast-forwarded the scene with an invisible remote control, you find yourself with your back against the wall and Kishibe's hand pinning your wrists above your head. His scent of sandalwood, fine cigarettes, and whiskey is intoxicating, and you can't help but take a deep breath to let it invade you. The hunter gives you one last predatory glance before catching your mouth in a passionate kiss. The desperate whine coming out of you makes him chuckle. From that moment on and at the same time, everything happens fast and slowly.

With the swiftness that comes with years of physical training, the hunter lifts you effortlessly, placing your legs on either side of his waist. His mouth seeks yours again in a mind-numbing, breathtaking kiss. His tongue finds its way between your soft lips to intoxicate itself with your taste. His already stiff cock presses hard against your clothed core making you whimper and tighten your legs around him.

"Good girl," Kishibe praises, breaking the kiss to look into your eyes, chuckling when they roll back into your head as soon as he begins to move his hips, teasing you. Making you impossibly wet with every inch of his erection rubbing against your slit at a deliciously even pace.

"Kishibe-san~," you mewl with your fingers tangled in his hair and with his mouth leaving wet kisses on your neck. His strong hands squeeze your butt, and your walls throb, desperate to be filled to the brim by his rock-hard cock. Lust has set your body ablaze, and your only goal now is to surrender to Kishibe's desires, to let him use you in every way he wants.

"What is it, sweetheart?" The hunter whispers against your skin, pretending not to notice that you're entirely under his spell. "Do you want me to fuck you hard ?" He husks, pressing the tip of his erection to your nub.

"Yes... please, " you beg, bucking your hips and cursing the few millimeters of cloth that get in the way between your bodies. "I need you."

"Oh, Y/N. It will be a pleasure to ruin you." Kishibe grunts before nibbling on your collarbone, allowing himself to enjoy for a few more seconds those faint desperate noises that tear from you every one of his caresses. "Turn around and undo your pants, doll," he commands after a while, putting you down.

Despite your trembling legs, you do as he says as fast as you can. You unbutton your pants and let them drop to your ankles, shivering as your red-hot skin meets the cold night air. Behind you, the hunter frees his erection, giving it a few pumps as he takes in your figure and your ass raised towards him like an offering.

Kishibe approaches you slowly, his stiff member resting on your buttocks while a callused hand snakes inside your soaked panties, exploring, making you squirm with neediness. You're already a heavy-breathing mess when deft fingers find your nub and begin pressing slow circles over it. With his name on your lips, you throw your head back against his shoulder as you spread your legs to give him more room to play.

Lucky for you, the hunter doesn't need any more clues to know what you want. A single digit caresses your swollen lips before sliding inside your warm walls, and you press your eyes shut, biting back a moan. A second and third finger join not long after, bringing you closer to the stars. The hunter has you writhing desperately against his hand a few moments later.

"Does it feel good?" Kishibe breathes in your ear as if he doesn't know the answer already, as if the way you fuck his fingers isn't enough proof that you're enjoying every second of it. The hunter wishes he'd had more time to tease you. The way you beg for his cock is like music to his ears, and he could listen to it all night long, but your ass rubbing against his erection is making him lose his patience.

After fumbling in his pockets, the hunter finally founds a small plastic wrapper. With a hoarse "hold on, doll." and a featherlight kiss on your shoulder, Kishibe withdraws his fingers from you to open the packaging and unroll the condom over his dripping member before coating it with your glistening juices. His heart races as he pulls your panties down and guides his tip to your dripping slit.

"Are you ready for me, my little bunny?" Kishibe husks. The pleading "yes" coming out of you is all he needs to hear before entering you slowly with a drawn-out grunt that reverberates throughout your body. His hands slide down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he takes time to savor -with closed eyes- the way your wetness swallows him whole. Reminding himself that both of you must return before raising suspicion, the hunter begins to move in a slow, sensual rhythm.

Finally, what you had been fantasizing about for so long has come true. Kishibes's thick cock feels better than you ever imagine, and your mind stops functioning. Your vocabulary is soon reduced to two syllables and a common curse word. The hunter stretches your walls so deliciously that you can't help but moan his name out loud as you pull him closer against your back, bringing his mouth to your neck and lifting your buttocks to take him deeper.

"Fuck me harder," you plead when the fire burning inside you needs more fuel and when the sublime ache between your legs compels you to pursue its explosive end. Unknowingly, you have just awakened the beast inside the hunter. Following your command, the gentle pace of Kishibe's thrusts increases to become a relentless pounding. The chaotic sound of the city can barely muffle your melodious moans and the hunter's low grunts. Squelching noises mix with breathy curses as you bend over to allow him a better angle, finding support in the damp wall in front of you.

"Ohhh, Y/N... I might get used to fuck that sweet pussy of yours," Kishibe growls, watching himself disappear again and again inside your warmth. Amidst cries of pleasure, you agree to his disguised proposition, and the hunter feels himself throb. If he isn't careful, he might get too carried away and finish quicker than intended.

In the enticing torture of unmeasured lust, you reach for his hand and guide it to your pulsating clit. The hunter can't help but smile as you show him how badly you need him to finish the job. With his fingers eagerly rubbing your sensitive spot and his hips smacking against yours with every powerful thrust, you feel yourself ascending faster and faster to that paradise that only those who dare to give free rein to their desires can reach.

With his name on your lips and shudders of pleasure flowing through your body, you finally surrender to the sweet bliss of your orgasm. Amid ecstasy, you notice how Kishibe's breathing becomes shallower, and the pace of his pounding becomes more erratic. Soon after, he's joining you in heaven with short and breathy curses.

*****

Once you get your breaths back and have finished adjusting your clothes and hair, the two of you return to the restaurant. Your legs are still a little clumsy, and you blush when you remember what happened just a few minutes ago and a few meters away. The man next to you, on the other hand, looks as calm and neutral as ever, except when he turns to look at you and gives you a knowing wink.

Most of your teammates have already passed out on the table, and the rest -who are still a little conscious- are calling cabs for the whole team. The young man -who's been working with you for the past seven months- waves at you when you come closer. His gaze is blurry, and the stupid grin on his face is a sign that tomorrow he will wake up wishing he had died during the mission.

"Y/N! I-I... thought you had... gonehome," His words slur, and you barely understand what he's saying. "Are y-you... comingwithus?... We are s-sharing a cab." He concludes, trying to point with a akward finger at the people he means by "us."

"It's okay. Y/N was having a smoke with me," Kishibe replies before you even can come up with an answer. "And no, I already offered to take her home..." he adds before turning to you and lowering his tone. "That, in case you're ready for a second round."

The warmth of a deep blush crawls up your neck. The boldness of Kishibe's offer takes you aback. But you would never forgive yourself if you turned it down, not after having a small try at your captain's talents. After checking that no one else had listened to that last sentence, you stroke your partner's shoulder and wave your team goodbye.

"Let's go, " you reply, and Kishibe's shit-eating grin makes you doubt for a moment if you made the right decision.

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I hope you don´t mind if I tag you 😉

if-dreams-do-come-true, miamisa101, hellokittiesxbae, gal-in-blue, hollowrose, campkento, thisblogisamess2k22I, angelforaki, aurorajh, soreannayru, fr0ppuccin0, broken-promises93, gumbai, karlalove2002, thecloudcoveringu, rspbrry22, gloomy-butterfly, neo-memeserenity, psychogia, kaytheg0d, spider-soul, wakawhatoshi, cherry-blossom5, chloeeccat, 3413755, boogybk

[99liv3s]

A Favor for a Fairy

This was the first story I posted here, and I have decided to repost this story, both to save people time from having to scroll down to the bottom of my page, and to combine all 6 chapters into one post, both to make it easier to read.

           23-year old Monica examined herself in the driver side mirror on her car door, brushing her long black hair out of her face, to expose her bright blue eyes.  She sighed, thinking to herself as she looked over her appearance.  Monica had a small petite body with lightly-toned skin, causing everyone she knew to tell her that she needed to get a tan.  However, Monica really had no interest in lying on a beach somewhere.  She did love to be outdoors, but she loved nature, and preferred to take walks in forests, as somehow, she felt this allowed her to immerse herself in nature, and collect her thoughts.  Monica was a very kindhearted person, and loved helping out others when she could. Unfortunately, her current job, as a cashier at a clothing store, did not afford her much opportunity to do this.

         A nature walk today was exactly what she needed, for she had spent the last few days pondering her life, wishing that there was some way she could somehow make a difference in the world, and she really needed to clear her head for a while.  Therefore, she had slipped on a simple white T-shirt she had received from the store she worked, and a pair of red track pants, gotten in her car, and drove to the most remote area she could find, pulling off onto the side of the road when she spotted an almost buried trail leading into the forest, which seemed perfect.

           She continued to stare at her reflection for another minute or two, and then she turned toward the trail leading into the forest and began to follow it, jogging a bit at first, then slowing down to a casual stroll, as she marveled at her surroundings.  This was the kind of environment that always made her happy. The overgrowth of the trees was so thick, it blocked out part of the sun, allowing only slits of light to shine through. It was just enough light to hide her in the forest without darkening it completely.  Immersing herself in this environment, she made her way quite deeply into the forest without realizing it!

           Strolling ahead, lost in her thoughts, Monica wondered off the trail and made her way to an area of the forest that looked as if no one had set foot there in years.  She was not too worried about getting lost, however, as she still had her phone in her pocket, it still had signal, and she had a GPS app that could get her back to her car if necessary.  Suddenly, Monica heard something, a very faint sound that was nearly drowned out by her footsteps on the fallen leaves.  Monica stopped to listen, and continued to hear it. It sounded like…. crying!!  After listening for a few seconds, Monica was certain she could trace the source, which was coming from a darker cluster of trees a few meters to her right.  She turned and made her way toward them, and the crying grew louder.  Monica then stopped, still trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from.  After about half a minute, she looked down and spotted something that did not seem real: A small tree had fallen over and now lay in front of where Monica now stood, and a tiny fairy was sitting on it, with her face in her hands, crying!  Monica blinked, making sure that it wasn’t some sort of illusion, but there was no mistaking that it was a fairy: Female by the look of it, for it (she) had silvery hair that stretched down to her shoulders, and light blue, almost transparent wings protruding from her back.  She was so small, Monica could fit her her the palm of her hand, if she so desired.  The fairy did not seem to be wearing any kind of clothing, but there did not seem to be any kind of need for it, as there was nothing to “cover up.”

           Monica could not bear to see this remarkable creature in so much pain and sadness.  Therefore, she cautiously approached the tiny fairy and crouched beside her.

             “Are you ok?” Monica asked timidly.

 The fairy looked up, and Monica saw a quite cute, tear-streaked face with bright green eyes that seemed to almost glow.  The face seemed to regard Monica for a moment, then the fairy spoke in a slightly high pitched, but surprisingly strong voice, given her size.

             “No, I’m not ok, far from it,” she said.  “I don’t know what to do!”

 Monica was amazed that the fairy could speak perfect English.  She did not know if the fairy knew the language, or if this was due to some kind of magic, but now was not the time to dwell on such unimportant facts. This creature was obviously in despair, and that broke Monica’s heart.

             “Are…. Are you a fairy?” Monica asked, curiously. “I didn’t know that they existed!”

             “We nearly don’t, anymore,” The fairy answered, smiling sadly.  “I think I might be one of the last, if not the last, of my kind still around as I am.”

             “What do you mean “as you are”?” Monica inquired. “What exactly are you?”

 Monica’s legs began to cramp from crouching, so she sat down onto the tree beside the little fairy, continuing to stare at her in amazement.

             “My name is Keri,” the fairy stated.  “I am indeed a fairy, you are right!”  “We’ve been around for a long time, keeping contact with humans very limited.”  “In these modern times, we’ve had to keep our existence secret, for reasons I’m sure you can understand.”

 Monica nodded.

             “Sadly, magic is fading from the world,” Keri explained.  “I don’t know why it is, but magic is our life energy, and since there is now so little of it in the world, my kind are going extinct.”

 Monica noticed that tears began to fall from Keri’s beautiful green eyes again as she recounted this.

             “Long ago, we could live for hundreds of years, and reproduce normally,” Keri explained.  “But, when magic began to fade from the Earth, we began dying in great numbers.”

 Monica realized she had tears in her own eyes now, but she could not help it.  Her heart ached for Keri and she longed to help.

             “When we started to realized what was happening to us,” Keri continued, “We found a solution: A magical ritual that would allow us to be reborn, as humans!”

             “Is that possible?” Monica asked, amazed.

             “Well, it was working in the past,” Keri responded. “From what I was told long ago, a great number of my people started their lives over, and were reborn as humans.” “In time, it was the only way we could “reproduce” and save ourselves.”

             “But, how does that work?” Monica asked.  “Do you just… transform into humans magically… or something?”

 Keri shook her head. “It is not that simple,” she said. “We can’t just transform our bodies at will,”  “The transformation process is truly a rebirth… We are fully transformed from our current form into that of a human baby.”  “We leave our old lives behind and start anew, as humans.”  “For that to work, the ritual requires one missing element: Somewhere in which each fairy undergoing the change can be incubated.” “We didn’t have enough magic left to create our own when we created this ritual, and we can’t just use your human technology… It is too complicated for us.”  “So, we did the only thing we could: we found humans who would volunteer to “carry” us as we were transformed.”

 Monica sat there, stunned, with her mouth slightly open.  She could not believe what she was hearing.  Other people knew about the fairies?  There were former fairies living among humans right now, as human themselves?  She was quite certain that this had to be a dream, so she pinched herself.  It hurt, so Monica knew it was real.  Keri looked at her puzzled.

             “Sorry, I’m just having a lot of trouble believing this,” Monica told her.  “If you’ve used humans before, how is it that the world hasn’t found out about your existence?”

             “The volunteers were sworn to secrecy,” Keri explained.  “There were not many of them, and it was a long time ago.”  “I don’t think many of them would try to reveal our secret, for who would believe them?”  “I was very young when all this happened, mind you, so I don’t understand everything.” “A huge accident, with one of your human power plants or something, is the reason I’m now alone.”  “Many of us just died out, and I happened to be lucky, though being alone, I don’t feel that way…”  “My magic is drying up, and that means I’m dying… all alone…”

             “Do you know this ritual?” Monica blurted out. She was overcome with emotion, and wanted to do anything to help Keri, whatever it took.

             Keri blinked in astonishment.  “I… I do know it, but…”

             “Then, use me,” Monica said.

Keri was so stunned at Monica’s exclamation that she had stopped crying.  Her beautiful wings fluttered and she floated into the air, to hover at eye level with Monica.

             “What?” Keri asked, taken aback. “What do you…?”

             “You need someone to “carry” you, right?” Monica exclaimed.  “I can!” “I’m a healthy young woman, and I can do it!”  “I volunteer!”

             Keri stared at her, stunned, but hopeful.  “Do you even know what you are agreeing to?” She asked. “I would need your womb, to transform into a human baby girl.”  “You would essentially be pregnant, and have to give birth!”  “Do you understand that?”

             Monica thought to herself.  She had never been pregnant before.  She had never even had sex.  However, she had watched videos on the internet about pregnancy, and birth videos.   Therefore, Monica knew it would be painful.  However, as she stared into the face of this amazing creature, Monica knew that the pain would be worth it… if it meant that she could save Keri’s life. She could handle it!

             “Yes, I understand, and I still volunteer,” Monica answered. “My name is Monica, by the way.”

 Keri slowly floated back down and landed on Monica’s leg.  Standing there, (“She’s not even heavy,” Monica thought), an expression of enormous relief and hope spread onto Keri’s face, and she smiled.

             “Thank you, Monica,” Keri sighed.  “I know I’ll be putting you through a lot… the volunteers in the past were well informed and trained for this process, but I don’t know as much about it…”

             “What do I have to do?” Monica asked, seemingly excited. It always made her so happy and full of energy to help someone.

 Keri seemed to think for a few seconds, then she fluttered off of Monica’s leg and onto the ground, staring up at her.

             “You won’t have to do much, at first,” Keri stated. “I’ll be doing most of the work, performing the ritual and such.”  “Your job will mostly be to carry me, then simply to give birth.”  “The problem is that, once I perform the ritual, I’m gone!” “I’ll be a baby growing in your womb, so I obviously won’t be able to communicate with you anymore.”  “So, I guess I should give you all the information I can now!”

 Monica started to feel a little hesitant upon hearing this.  Her experience with pregnancy in general was limited, and this was not a normal situation.  What if she needed help?  Monica wanted to ask about this, but waited, as Keri had begun to explain the ritual. Hopefully, she would answer Monica’s question without her having to ask.

             “So, when I perform the ritual, I’ll be transformed into a magical form of energy, that will easily be able to enter your womb,” Keri explained. “Once there, my transformation will immediately begin.” “Don’t worry; you won’t have to wait 9 months, as typical for you humans.”  “The transformation process happens quickly, I’d say about an hour.”  “Once it is complete, the birth should happen as with any normal baby.”

 Monica’s head spun with this information.  It was a lot to take in…

             “I’ve never given birth before,” Monica exclaimed.  “I can’t get to a hospital in an hour, and even if I could, how would I explain?”  “I didn’t think about this when I volunteered.”  “I guess I just assumed you would be able to talk to me, via magic or something.”  “I’ll be all alone!”

 Keri shook her head.

             “I have a solution to that,” She told Monica.  “A few miles deeper in this forest is a cabin in which a friend lives.” “Her name is Jasmine, and she knows about this ritual.” “She was once a druid, before magic started to disappear, so she knows all about us.”  “She helped some of the volunteers in the past with the birthing process, so she will be able to help you, too.”  “Her cabin is not far, so you should have plenty of time to reach it before you have to give birth to me.”  “Here…”

 Keri flew up to Monica’s left arm and touched it with her tiny finger.  At once, a bluish tattoo of a circle with stars in it formed on the arm.

             “This will let Jasmine know that you are involved with the ritual, so she won’t turn you away,” Keri said, before flying back to the ground.  “Don’t worry; it will disappear in a few days.”

 Monica looked over this tattoo with interest.  She never cared for tattoos herself, but this one served an important purpose, and it was actually kind of pretty.

 “Well, that’s it, I think I’ve told you all you need to know,” Keri said.  “Get to Jasmine’s place, for she can tell you anything I might have left out.”  “Are you ready?”

 Monica stood up, and knelt down beside Keri.  She reached out her hand, and Keri stepped onto it.  Monica then raised her hand and cupped Keri in both of her hands.  It was the closest she could come to hugging the little fairy without crushing her.

             “I’m ready,” Monica replied!

         Keri jumped from Monica’s hands and floated back down to stand on the fallen tree that she had been sitting on when Monica first saw her. She began waving her hands in a sort of rhythm, and after a few seconds, her body began to glow a deep blue.

             “I’m now beginning the ritual,” Keri stated.  “For this first part, you can just simply relax and stay calm.”  “All I need you to do is to take your pants and underwear off.”

 Monica hesitated, then proceeded to undress herself, right there in the forest, grateful that no one but Keri could see her.  She pulled her track pants off, laid them aside, then did the same with her underwear. So that she could be more comfortable, she removed her shirt as well.  Standing there, completely naked, Monica watched Keri continue the ritual with interest. Keri was glowing such a bright shade of blue; Monica could barely see her face.

              “I just want you to know,” Keri began, “That I am so grateful to you for this.”  “I’m using the last of my magic to do this, so there is no going back now.”  “I can’t thank you enough.”

             “Don’t worry about it,” Monica answered.  “I’m happy to do it.”  “What could be better than helping a unique creature save herself?”

 Keri did not answer; she continued to glow and move her hands, calling upon her magic.  She then fluttered off of the tree and down onto the ground nearby.

             “You should lie down, now,” Keri said.  “It will make you more comfortable.”

 Monica did so, resting her head up against the fallen tree, so that she could see what Keri was doing. Before either of them could say anything else, the glowing overtook the little fairy, and she transformed into a small wisp of light.  It was about the size of Monica’s finger, even smaller than Keri had been as a fairy. The wisp then floated into the air.

             “Goodbye, Monica,” Keri’s voice said, as the wisp of energy flew toward Monica.

             As Monica lay on the forest floor, trying to stay calm, the wisp of energy that was Keri reached her body and entered her vagina. At once, Monica felt an intense feeling of jubilation and elation.  It felt as if her entire body was immersed in a warm bath, and at the same time, so much joy filled her heart.  She had never felt anything this good before, and for a few minutes, Monica lay, naked, on the ground, enjoying this feeling.  If Keri’s magic could make her feel like this, then it was a huge tragedy that there were no fairies left in the world any longer.  Monica felt a slight bit of sadness mingle with the powerful contentment that she currently felt.  Keri had not told her anything about this!  Perhaps she did not know this feeling would happen to Monica, or maybe it was Keri’s gift to her, for helping her out.

           After a few glorious minutes, the pleasurable feeling began to wear off, and Monica remembered that she should be making her way to Jasmine’s cabin now.  She struggled to her feet and re-dressed, then began walking deeper into the forest, as Keri had directed her.  She noticed as she did so that the area she was beginning to enter seemed brighter than where Monica encountered Keri.  Monica began to marvel about this, and wonder how Jasmine kept herself hidden as a result, when she began to feel uncomfortable pressure in her stomach.  Monica gasped with the shock of it.  Perhaps that was supposed to happen?  She would have to ask Jasmine once she reached her cabin. For now, it was not too bad, and Monica decided to continue on.  She’d had stomach cramps from food poisoning worse that this.

           A few minutes later, the pressure had gotten much more intense, and Monica was forced to stop and rest.  She placed a hand against a tree and leaned against it, rubbing her belly with her other hand.  This seemed to help slightly, but Monica noticed something else when she did this. She looked down with astonishment, and noticed that her belly was growing slowly before her very eyes. Both the pressure and her amazement kept Monica from moving, and she stared at her expanding belly for several minutes.  Eventually, the pressure and the growing stopped, making Monica look as if she was nine months pregnant.  Her track pants were expanded around her large waist and her t-shirt was now not enough to hide her protruding, basketball sized belly.  Monica began to panic a bit, now.  Barely 20 minutes had passed, but Keri said the process would take an hour.  Was it supposed to be that fast, or had something gone wrong?

             “Jasmine,” She told herself, “I have to get to Jasmine!”

 Monica stood and began to waddle forward.  The pressure had been so intense earlier; she had failed to notice a small cabin in the distance.  Monica made her way as quickly as she could toward it.  As she waddled, she could feel the baby moving inside her.  She had always heard people talk about this feeling, but now, feeling it herself, she knew no words could describe it.  After about 10 more minutes, Monica finally arrived at the front door of the cabin.  She knocked timidly, three times, and then the door opened.

           In the doorway of the cabin stood a slightly tall woman, who looked to be in her late 30s.  She had blonde hair cut short and dark brown eyes.  Her skin tone looked as if she had at least gotten more sun than Monica ever had, but she was still light-skinned.  Monica hoped that this woman that greeted her was Jasmine.

           The woman examined her visitor, and immediately spotted the large pregnant belly, which the girl was absentmindedly rubbing, the grimace of slight pain on her face, and also the tattoo on her arm.  Without a word, the cabin’s occupant moved aside and motioned for Monica to enter.  Monica waddled through the door, while the woman leaned out of it, touched the outside wall with her hand, and muttered something in an unknown language.

           The slight pain she was in could not completely diminish the amazement that Monica felt upon entering the cabin.  She noticed that the cabin was much roomier inside that it looked on the outside.  There seemed to be several rooms to it, including what looked like a central sitting room, which Monica had walked into upon entering the cabin.  Since Keri had told Monica that Jasmine was once a druid, Monica suspected more magic was in play here.  Monica looked around the room, spotting bookshelves against the walls, a few wooden chairs dotted around the room, and other various decorations. Monica also noted that there did not seem to be any modern technology in the cabin at all.  There was a small chandelier overhead, dotted with lit candles, and other candles, also lit, were placed sporadically around the room.  The sound of the door closing behind her snapped Monica out of these thoughts.

             “I am Jasmine,” the woman said. “You are involved with the ritual!”

 Jasmine said this more as a statement rather than a question, but she did not seem to expect an answer.  However, the statement was not unkind.

             “To be honest, it has been so long, I didn’t think any fairies were still left,” Jasmine stated.  She then smiled at Monica.  “I’ve never seen you before…”  “All of the others that I’d helped in the past are gone, it seems…”

             Jasmine made her way to one of the shelves positioned near the left wall and opened a drawer, extracting a small device from it. This device was the size and shape of Monica’s Smartphone, but it looked like a piece of glass or crystal. Jasmine then motioned to a doorway on the right, leading to a different room of the cabin it seemed.

             “Come; follow me into this room, dear… We’ll get you comfortable and ready,” Jasmine said to her.

 Jasmine then walked into that room, out of sight.  Monica slowly followed, waddling her way into the room as well.  Inside, Jasmine had prepared a small surface, almost like a bed, for Monica to lie on.  Also around the room were shelves with various instruments on them.  A few candles were lit in here as well, one sitting on an end table close to the “bed”, one sitting on one of the shelves, and one hanging from overhead.  These were the only source of light, other than a tiny window positioned over the “bed”. This window had a pane of glass in it, from which a beam of sunlight shined through.  Jasmine motioned for Monica to lie down, and she did, feeling that the surface was quite comfortable.  However, she began to experience more pains.

           “So, I’ll just ask you a few quick general questions,” Jasmine said to her, as she bustled around the room, fetching various objects.  She had laid the crystal “Smartphone” object on one of the shelves, perhaps to use later. Monica tried to make out what some of these objects were, but was distracted by a fresh wave of pain from her stomach.  Therefore, she lay her head back onto the pillow of her “bed” and rubbed her belly as Jasmine began questioning her:

             “What is your name?” Jasmine asked.

             “Monica,” the girl answered.

             “How old are you?”

             “Twenty-three.”

             “Have you ever had a baby before?”

             “Never.”

             “How long ago was the ritual performed?”

 Monica hesitated, for she had lost track of time.  She knew it had not been a full hour yet, however.

             “I would say about 40 minutes ago,” Monica finally answered.

 Jasmine did not ask another question.  Instead, she had retrieved the crystal object that she had gotten from the other room and proceeded to wave this over Monica’s belly several times. Monica’s pain had subsided momentarily, so she watched this with fascination.  A small light of yellow seemed to glow from the object in Jasmine’s hand, which caused Jasmine’s eyes to widen in astonishment.

             “Hmm… It seemed you are already in labor, Monica,” She said, sounding slightly amazed.  “This is happening quicker than I anticipated, but it’s nothing to worry about.” “Now, I’d advise getting out of those clothes.”

 Monica sat up, then stood, and with Jasmine’s help, removed her pants, shirt, and underwear.  For the second time today, she was completely naked, which seemed to satisfy Jasmine.  Monica was then hit with another wave of pain and pressure, and she moaned loudly, clutching her now naked belly and grimacing.

             “Ooohhh…”

             “Seems to be moving quite along,” Jasmine said kindly. “Lie back and make yourself comfortable.”

 Monica did so, and lay upon her bed for several minutes, not moving, until the pain subsided enough that she could catch her breath again.  Jasmine knelt down at the end of the bed and proceeded to examine Monica’s vagina…

             “Already 8 centimeters dilated,” Jasmine said in surprise.

 Jasmine then got to her feet, picked up a small cloth from the shelf nearby, and soaked it in a bucket of water sitting next to the foot of the bed, to Monica’s left.  Jasmine then used this cloth all over Monica’s naked body; cleaning off the dirt and stains she had gotten from lying naked on the forest floor when Keri had performed the ritual.  This had the dual effect of both washing Monica off, and comforting her slightly.  After a couple of minutes of this, Jasmine dropped the cloth in the bucket, stood, and smiled down at Monica.

             “We do have a bit of time before the big moment,” Jasmine said, “If you have any questions for me.”

             “Wow, it hurts,” Monica whispered.  “Is it supposed to hurt like that?”

             “I’m afraid it is,” Jasmine answered, with a kind, concerned expression.  “Unfortunately, I can’t give you anything for the pain… That might corrupt the ritual.” “You are handling it well, I must say, though.”

 Monica nodded in understanding.

             “What exactly are you?” Monica asked.

             “I was a druid, long ago, but my services became of little use, once magic began to fade from the world.”  “I’ve studied enough to keep my magical powers from completely fading, mostly through using it sparingly.”  “I don’t understand much about human society in this modern age, so I live here, secluded and in secret.”  “I am quite self-sufficient… You may or may not have seen the garden out behind the cabin…”

             “Why is magic fading from the world, do you know?”

             “I’m not sure, but my theory is that it is because of humans no longer believing in magic.”  “As they developed more and more of their technology over the years, it seems as if they are believing in that, rather that the magic of old.  Children still somewhat believe, which is why there is still a bit of magic left…”  “Don’t get me wrong,” Jasmine added, as she walked over to the end table and picked up Monica’s phone, which she had taken out of her pants pocket before taking them off, “You humans have developed some fascinating technology.”  Jasmine examined the phone with interest for a few seconds, then replaced it onto the table.  “I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to use any of it, but it looks as if you humans won’t need magic in the future.”

             “I don’t want magic to disappear,” Monica said. “I believe we still need it.” “There are some magical things that technology will never replace!”

             “Nice that you feel that way, but you are one of the few, it seems,” Jasmine said, smiling.

             “How come you couldn’t participate in the ritual yourself,” Monica asked.  She had wondered this as soon as Keri mentioned Jasmine to her, but there had been no chance to ask.

             “Believe me, I think it would be an honor,” Jasmine responded.  “But, I can’t!”  “Contrary to how I look, I am actually centuries old!”

 Monica’s mouth fell open at this revelation.

             “I’ve used a spell to keep my appearance and much of my physical self at this age, but regardless, I’m still much too old to get pregnant.”  “Therefore, I’m happy to help as I do.”

             “That’s amazing,” Monica exclaimed.  “You look not much older than me!”

             “I shall take that as a compliment,” Jasmine said, laughing.

 Another great pain came over Monica, and she groaned.

             “Oohhh… OW… ow….ow…. ow…..ow…”

 Monica trembled as the pain and pressure built up, then subsided almost as fast as it had come. Still feeling slight uncomfortable, Monica sat up a bit, to look Jasmine in the eyes.

             “I’ve…. I’ve never been pregnant before…” Monica confessed.  “I’ve never even considered it.”  “I’ve watched videos about it online, but… To be honest, I’m kinda scared.”

             “Videos are not the same as the experience,” Jasmine responded.  “But, you’ll get through it just fine, I think.”  “You seem like a strong willed young lady, Monica.”  “Admittedly, it will be painful, as I can see you are quite a small girl, but I’m here for you.”  “Everything has been prepared.”  “And don’t worry about attracting attention to my secret existence here…I’ve placed a spell on the entire cabin that will muffle all sound coming from it!”  “Feel free to scream as loud as you have to, if necessary.”

 Monica nodded appreciatively, but inwardly hoped the pain would not get bad enough for that. Monica had many other questions, but there was one that seemed most important to ask now…

             “You seemed surprised that I was already in labor,” Monica asked.  “Does that mean something is wrong?”

             “I don’t know,” Jasmine responded.  “I have seen times between the start of the ritual and labor vary before, but it’s never been this fast.”  “To be fair, you are the youngest and most petite volunteer I’ve ever helped, which might be the reason.”

 Monica doubled over as another wave of pain and pressure built up.

             “Oooh…ooooh… ahhhh…”

             “I have another tool in the other room,” Jasmine said. “It works kind of like a magical version of human X-ray machines.”  “It might help if we take a look at the baby, and what is going on inside.”  “I’ll go to the other room and get it.”  “You make yourself comfortable, and breathe through the pain.”  “It’s all going to be ok.”

 With that, Jasmine left the room, leaving Monica lying on the bed, rubbing her belly in an attempt to make the pain stop.  The pressure kept building, and it seemed to last longer than it ever had before.  After a few minutes, Monica moaned loudly, then felt a new sensation, accompanied by a new sound.  Monica’s water had broken!!

           “JASMINE,” Monica yelled in both surprise and agony.

 As soon as her water had broken, Monica began to feel the most intense pain she had ever felt.  She also felt pressure, as if she needed to push.

             “AAAARRRggggghhhhh….. oooohhhhhh…”

 As Monica moaned and panted, Jasmine came running into the room, clutching something the size and shape of a dinner plate.  However, seeing both the large puddle of water at the foot of the bed, and Monica suffering, she dropped the object into a nearby chair and crouched to the young girl’s side.

             “Just breathe through the pain, and do whatever your body wants you to do,” She coached.

             “I NEED TO PUSH,” Monica yelled.  “It HURTS… AAAHHHH…”

 Monica pushed, as Jasmine had instructed.  She could not help herself.  It seemed as if the baby wanted out of her badly.

             “That’s it, Monica!”  “Keep going!”  “You’re doing fine!”

             “Ahhhh….. Ahhhhh….. Ohhhh….

 After a few minutes, the pain became less intense for a little while.  Monica slumped her head back onto the pillow, gasping for breath.

             “Let’s see here…” Jasmine said.  She picked up the dinner plate object and held it up to Monica’s contracting belly.  An image formed on it, but Monica could not see what it was, as Jasmine had it positioned away from her.  However, she assumed that it was showing Jasmine her insides.

             “Gracious,” Jasmine exclaimed, no longer smiling. “The baby is big.”  “Much bigger than any fairy has ever become during this ritual.”  “How much magic did the fairy use?”

             “All of her…. last ….. remaining …. magic,” Monica panted.

             “She must have had more than she realized,” Jasmine said, replacing the magical plate onto the chair.  “I must admit, I’m a bit worried now.”  “You’re quite small… I’m not sure you can deliver such a big baby!”

             “What?”  “What do you meaaaaaahhhhh!!!”

 Suddenly, the pain started up again.  It was agony such as Monica had never felt in her life.  The urge to push was unbearable!

             “OH, GOD…. Ahhhhh….. Ohhhh….. AHHHHH!”

             “PUSH, MONICA!”

             “MAKE IT STOP…. It hurts too much…. I can’t!!

             “Yes, you CAN… PUSH… Fight through the pain!

 Monica breathed and moaned and pushed.  It felt to her as if she was pushing a bowling ball down into her vagina.  She had never expected giving birth to hurt this much.  She pushed again, arching her back and gripping her legs, crying out in misery. Then, she slumped back onto the bed as her body gave her a bit of relief.

             “Good news, Monica,” Jasmine said brightly, “I can see the head, already.”

 Jasmine made her way to the shelf again and pulled out a small mirror.  She then crouched down beside Monica’s legs and positioned it, so that Monica could see the head for herself.  Monica was awestruck, until another contraction hit!

             “AHH…It HURTS….. Get her out of me....!!!”

 As Monica pushed, she felt a burning sensation around her vagina.  She had heard about this burning from the videos she had watched, but she did not realize how excruciating it was.  Monica squealed and moaned loudly, attempting to push.

             “That’s it, Monica, keep it up!”

             “OOOHHH….OOOOHHHHH…….AAAAHHHHHH…”

 The head continued to emerge with each push, and Jasmine was horrified to see just how big it was. Monica was stretched seemingly to her limit, and yet the head kept spreading her wider and wider. As Monica screamed and pushed, the head reached a point in which it stopped.  It did not try to go back in, but no matter how much Monica pushed, it would not move out anymore, either.

             “What’s happening?”  “Why can I not get it out?”  “Please, pull it OUT…”  “Make the pain STOP…”

 Monica was pleading with Jasmine!  The head was stuck, keeping Monica’s legs forced open wide.  Her legs trembled with pain and effort, and Monica continued to moan and pant in anguish.  Several more contractions hit Monica over the next hour, but the baby’s head still would not budge.  Monica was sweating furiously, and seemed to be losing energy.  Jasmine was now afraid for her new friend’s life…. She needed to get this baby out!

             “Monica, honey, this could kill you,” Jasmine proclaimed.  “You have to push harder.”  “If you don’t get the baby out, it will die, and so will you!”

             “I’m trying…. I can’t!”  “Please, just let me die!”  “Cut me open and get the baby out!”  “It hurts too much… I can’t go on!!”

             “No, I’m not going to do that… You can do it!”

             “I can’t!  The baby won’t move! It’s stuck… and we’re going to die!”

 Jasmine stared at Monica, thinking hard.  Finally, she stood up, with a determined look on her face.

             “There is one last thing I can try… It’s dangerous, and might not work, but it might be the only way…”

             “ANYTHING…. Just get it out… It hurts!”

             “It’s an emergency spell… I’ve never had to use it in all the time I’ve been delivering babies for the ritual.”  “I think now is the time, however.”

 Jasmine pulled out what looked like a small tree branch… perhaps a wand.  She touched the tip of this “wand” to Monica’s vagina, just above the baby’s head and uttered a soft, musical word that Monica could not understand. Instantly, the pain and contractions stopped.

             “What happened?” Monica breathed.  “What is that spell supposed to do?”

 Jasmine looked as if she regretted the answer, but she looked into Monica’s eyes and told her.

             “It will make your contractions more intense!”  “I think that is the only way to get this large baby out.”

 And then, just when Monica had thought she had been through so much pain and agony, everything got much worse!

           Monica felt her contractions increase seemingly a hundred-fold.  She screamed louder than she thought possible, as wave after wave of violent contractions washed over her.  She was having trouble catching her breath.  She wanted to beg Jasmine to do something, to give her anything, to stop this torture, but she could do nothing but scream.  She could not even push, but her body seemed to be doing that by itself anyway.

           Jasmine stood and watched Monica scream and scream with agony, utterly convinced that she had just killed her new friend in the most painful way possible.  Monica’s contractions had become so intense; Jasmine could actually see her belly and vagina pulsate over and over.  Monica’s legs shook and she began to thrash wildly, still squealing and screaming; she did not seem to be able to do anything else.  Jasmine knelt down and grabbed Monica’s arms, in an attempt to stop her injuring herself while she thrashed, and continued to look down at Monica’s opening.  What she saw filled her with new hope, for the head had begun to move again.  The violent contractions seemed to be working, forcing the large head out weather it was able to or not.

             “MONICA, it’s working,” she yelled over the girl’s screams.  “The head’s continuing to emerge.”  “PUSH!” “It’s all going to be over soon!”

 Mixed with the intense pain, Monica could feel the head sliding out of her slowly.  She fought to catch her breath and just focus on getting it out.

             “COME ON, GET OUT!!!.....  AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH”

 After another tense, agonizing minute, the head finally slipped out with a loud wet squelching sound. The intense agony tempered down immediately afterward, and Monica was able to catch her breath again.  She gasped and panted; her throat raw from screaming.  Jasmine grabbed the wet cloth and wiped the baby’s head and face with it.

             “Ok, Monica, the head is out,” she said. “Now, we just have to get the rest of her… One more big push should do it.”  “I’ll try to help you.”

 Jasmine reached her fingers into Monica’s vagina and attempted to maneuver the baby’s shoulders so that they would come out one at a time, and therefore fit through.  This sensation was very uncomfortable to Monica, and she moaned through it.  However, her contractions were still quite intense, and began starting up again, and Monica did not dare to think that anything could feel worse that what she just went through to get the head out.

             “Here it comes,” Jasmine said.  “Now, PUSH!”

 Monica pushed, feeling more pain, burning, and pressure, as Jasmine kept her fingers between the baby and Monica’s skin, guiding the rest of the body out.

             “OOOOOHHHHHHHH……”

 After one final push that lasted 20 long seconds, the baby was born.  Jasmine caught her and began cleaning her off, as Monica slumped back onto the bed with relief.

             “Good Job, Monica,” Jasmine said, as the baby began to cry loudly.  “You did it”

 Jasmine grabbed a sharp knife from the shelf nearby and cut the umbilical cord.  She then placed the baby on a small cushion nearby and then waved her crystal object over it.

             “She’s 14 pounds,” Jasmine said with amazement. “You shouldn’t have been able to deliver her, but you did it.”

  Jasmine then presented the crying newborn to Monica, who had sat up, and she accepted her happily.

             “Wow, I did,” Monica exclaimed as she continued to stare at the baby as though she could not believe it.  “I had a baby!”  “I got through it!”  “I saved a fairy’s life!”  “Keri was right!”

             “Little Keri?” Jasmine asked in surprise.  “That was her?”

 Monica nodded, as she cuddled the newborn, which seemed to instantly calm her down.

             “I’ve know Keri for a long time,” Jasmine explained. “She was very young when the ritual was invented.”  “She had even helped me in the past with some of the volunteers and we became very good friends.”  “I never knew what happened to her…. I though she had died, actually.”

 Jasmine smiled at both Monica and the baby, feeling happier than she had felt in a long while.

             “I’m glad to know that Keri was able to have a ritual of her own,” Jasmine said brightly.  “She’s made it… and that’s all thanks to you, Monica!”  “You should be proud.”

 Monica rocked the baby until she fell asleep, still completely awed by all that had happened. Afterward, Monica looked up at Jasmine, smiling, with tears in her eyes.

             “Thank you, Jasmine,” Monica said to her.  “I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

             “I was glad to help,” Jasmine responded.  “But the real gratitude should go to you, Monica.” “You did not have to go though all of this, and yet you did, to save the life of a creature you didn’t know existed hours ago.”  “You truly are a good person.”

 Jasmine left the room for several seconds, and returned with a blanket, which she covered over Monica’s legs and lower abdomen.

             “You’ll have to stay here with me for a few days,” Jasmine said to her.  “I’ll take care of you while you recover.”  “Then, you can return to your life.”  “You’ve done enough.”  “I’ll take the baby and make arrangements to give her a home.”  

 Monica shook her head, and looked down at the baby lovingly.

             No, that old life is over now,” she told Jasmine. “When I’ve recovered, I want to take her and raise her myself.”  “Is that ok?”

             “Certainly, it is ok; are you sure?” Jasmine asked.

             “Yes,” Monica said.  “I’ll take good care of her.”  “I would love for her to be my daughter.”

 Jasmine nodded in agreement.

             “It is settled then,” she said.  “You can gladly take her, but as she is a new baby girl now, the old Keri has ceased to exist.”  “It is customary after the ritual for each fairy to be given a new name.” “As you will be her caretaker, and mother, you should be the one to give her that.”  “Do you have a name yet?”

 Monica though for a few seconds, then nodded, smiling.

             “I’ll name her Kari,” she said.  “It’s similar, yes, but that’s because it will always be a reminder to me where she came from.”  “Speaking of which, will I need to tell her about all this when she’s older?”

             “That will be up to you, Monica,” Jasmine answered. “You will know if it’s the right choice when the time comes.”  “Now, both of you should get some rest.”

 Jasmine reached over and took Kari from Monica’s arms gently.

             “I have somewhere she can rest comfortably,” Jasmine said quietly.  “You can stay in here and sleep.”  “I’ll make us both something to eat.”

             After a few days, Monica recovered, and left Jasmine’s cabin with baby Kari.  Afterward, she quit her old job without hesitation, and started a new life with her daughter.  Jasmine had taught Monica much about how to grow her own food during her stay. Therefore, inspired by Jasmine, Monica had her own cabin built, deep in the forest, and she and her daughter lived happily there for many years.  Eventually, Monica did tell Kari about her origins, and this inspired Kari to enter the medical field, as an OBGYN.

                                                                                                                                   End

[allhailthegodofbugs]

Brimley Necrosafari to Close After 55 Years in Business Citing Budget, Safety Concerns

Brimley California – July 22, 2023.  The beloved and sometimes controversial Brimley Necrosafari is set to close this September due to difficulties maintaining the park and the creatures, according to long-time Necrodirector Peter Bhurghg. “We tried everything we could, but the pandemic regulations wiped us out. ‘Oh you’re spreading plague,’ they said. Ridiculous. Unless you’re talking about the Plague Draken, which does bring every disease.”

Although the Necrosafari is mainly held outdoors, patrons would sleep in enclosed luxury tents and spend evenings enjoying a formal dinner and sharing stories of the hunt over cigars and Tombwine. Some say Necrodirector Peter Bhurghg’s refusal to alter the model led to difficulties. “He’s an old school guy, in the sense that he has existed since the 1300s,” said one mysterious floating oracular head, who wished to remain anonymous. “We talked about maybe sharing stories through Zoom instead, or doing the formal dinners outdoors, but he just wasn’t having it.”

Amid repeated refusals to follow Covid 19 regulations, the Brimley Necrosafari found itself with legal bills piling up and fewer state and federal grants than normal. “They had money for ‘public health’ but they don’t have money for Luxury deathabomination trophy hunting? What is happening to America? What is happening to the American Nightmare?” Howled Bhurghg.

“Dream,” he added. “I meant American Dream.”

But budget considerations were only part of the puzzle, according to the Extremely Reasonably Concerned Parents Association. “We’ve had sixteen people die on the Necrosafari in the last month, three of them children,” said Ruth Baker, local parent. “Beheaded by the Scythe Thing, eaten by Skull Mantises, gored by the NECROBOAR. It’s absurdly dangerous. They don’t even have path markers, and you have to get your own silver, large-bore ammunition, which leaves people vulnerable to fakes.”

Indeed, infamous local entrepreneur Walborg Shrupe was forced to pay a fine of 15,000 dollars after a protracted and contentious trial last year after it was revealed his bullets were not pure silver, but merely brass with a silver-colored spray paint. “Caveat emptor,” he famously said, before paying his fine in pennies and disappearing to the Philippines in a solid gold helicopter.

“The whole community still bears scars from that trial,” said district attorney Kate Vance. “When will the Scar Curse end?”

“Yes, we’ve had a few deaths,” Peter Bhurghg admitted. “But they were all the results of patrons failing to follow sensible precautions.” He then tore his face-meat asunder, revealing his true undead form and shot scarlet lightning bolts from his fingertips.

“If you can’t hire a haruspex to tell your omens before the hunt – stay home!” He went on to say. “It’s simple!”

Some Brimley residents expressed regret over the decision. “I think it’s sad,” remarked mayor Janet Vimmmmm. “I used to go to the Necrosafari when I was a child. I bagged my first wraith when I was seven. Shame about Great-Uncle Walter though.”

Others have voiced displeasure that the already difficult local job market may soon be flooded with former park employees. “Can you imagine the Scythe Thing working as a cashier at Bath and Body Works?” said Lila Cohen, local ne’er do well. “I can. I have nightmares about it.”

In the meantime, the Black Cloth Society has announced a blood drive to save the park. “We will be collecting blood,” said Society President Balrock Rune. “Keep your doors unlocked.”

“It’s the end of an era,” said a relieved Ruth Baker. “A dark era, full of terrors.”

The Brimley Necrosafari will close on September 30, 2023. In the meantime, they have announced that spots are still available at a discount for their May Hunt. As ever, patrons are required to bring their own large caliber weapons, silver bullets, rune charms, and napalm-salt explosives. Tickets are “first come, first serve.” Discounts are available for children and seniors. For more information, call 1-800 DEAD ONES or follow the Brimley Necrosafari account on Twitter at RealActualNecrosafari@twitter.com.

[nameless-brand]

Ahaha. I am one step closer to becoming the magical girl I know I can be!

So I was practicing kata and the whole Battle Song body augmenting technique that Lev and Raven were trying to teach me when - I dunno - I had a sudden burst of inspiration.

...which in hindsight was probably pretty dangerous. It felt very natural at the time - there was a pathway for the qi I accumulated to go to - normally, I'd direct it to a limb - but instead there was a sorta vague gate from the top of my head down to my heart. And I flooded that gate through with the qi.

I felt super strong for like 15 seconds like I could beat up anything. The wooden dummy I was practicing on got knocked off its pedestal with a single blow.

I also passed out on the practice grounds after those 15 seconds, completely spent, I guess.

I think a BC must've dragged me inside because I woke up in a secluded corner of the living room hidden by the sofa instead of the cold outdoors. Wish they kinda put me in a better position - my arm and leg are still numb from the 40 minutes I was conked out.

Still progress. Nice to know I have an option and am not as helpless as before. Maiden in distress is not a fun job to have. I at least don't want to be a burden to Lev once this ticking time bomb of a world explodes.

[nikkireedsource]

Nikki Reed: What I Wish I Knew About Beauty When I Was Younger

Our columnist was playing with makeup before she knew how to ride a bike, but it took more than a skilled hand to establish her relationship with inner worth.

Welcome to Take Five, my recurring beauty and nutrition column onELLE.com culled from a lifelong passion for animals, the outdoors, and feeling good. For me, the notion of taking five—whether the number pertains to ingredients in a food or just a moment to ask your body how it's feeling—can make all the difference. Consider this your 300-second-long wellness retreat.

A woman's hands tell a story. Her journey, a masterpiece, beautifully painted line by line, with each spot and vein in its perfect placement. I remember staring at my mom's hands as a child, watching her tap the steering wheel of the car with her knuckle rings to the beat of whatever song was playing, knowing that mine would someday look just like that; I couldn't wait. I remember the first time I was told I looked like her. It was the response to a side-by-side photo of us, both smiling, cheekbones pronounced, every line on my mom's face exposed, showcasing her beauty in a way I had never noticed. I delighted in the thought of growing into a woman with that kind story etched so wonderfully on her face, with signs of a life filled with deep belly laughter and adventures many wouldn't believe; once again, I couldn't wait.

But it wasn't always that way.

I grew up fast. In fact, ​Mom gave me my first makeup kit, a hand-me-down from her best friend, Alex, before I could ride a bike. She let me do whatever I wanted when it came to my self-expression as it pertained to my image. I had a perm by the time I was five years old. I was the first girl in third grade to have magenta hair. I even got my tongue pierced around the ripe age most young girls were trying on their first pair of earrings. Needless to say, makeup was something I didn't skimp on. I went through the sparkly eye shadow phase for a little longer than most, I wore a full face of foundation for at least one of my three middle school years, and I learned how to put on my own false eyelashes in the backseat of a car. I enjoyed every part of the process.

Like most girls that age, there was no bigger compliment than being told I looked older than I was. Oh, the irony. Whether we're chasing womanhood or chasing our youth, we're never satisfied with the present. As I got older, I began to recognize the beauty in a natural, makeup-free visage. In my early twenties, I discovered my love for oils and my disdain for the smell of chemical-laden perfumes. (This was after years of bathing in the Country Apple scent from Bath & Body Works.) And although I once made fun of her for it, I was undeniably following directly in the footsteps of my amber-patchouli-wearing mother.

And eventually, I found myself wondering if the connection between people was dulled as our senses became sullied by the overwhelming effort we make to cover ourselves up, be it with makeup, deodorant, or perfume. There is something to be said for pheromones, and I knew I was onto something after reading a few articles on "human connection through scent." It's true that my job requires a certain amount of "made-up" days, however, I still have an immense amount of affinity for the majority of my days, the ones spent au-natural. Truth be told, when I'm not working, I enjoy letting my hair air dry, tossing a little homemade oil concoction onto my face and body, and then calling it a day. I believe in taking care of myself, but always with a healthy approach that stems from treating my body right, not from the desire to fit in, stay skinny, or look younger. I suppose it's about balance. Whether it's attempting to purchase reduced-chemical or chemical-free products when you can, or maybe even researching vegetable-based dyes for your hair, the most important part of being a consumer is being aware that we do have options. And it all starts with one ideal: love yourself. Finding a holistic approach to skincare and the products we buy begins when we stop succumbing to the gloss of advertisements and we start glorifying old photographs of our mothers and grandmothers looking perfectly imperfect, their natural beauty on full human display.

I'll be first to tell you that I love a day of expert glam, but it's the days I get to let my skin breathe and my frizzy hair fly free that I cherish the most, that I feel the most "me." So if there is one message I could have given my younger self, it would've been this: Be gentle with yourself. Know that every girl your age has acne, that it's okay to feel insecure about your height, your weight, or the size of your boobs. Don't beat yourself up about it. Don't spend your energy wishing you could change it. Embrace it. Love every imperfection. Imperfections are what make you beautiful. They're what make you "you."

As you grow older, you'll find more and more opportunities to either tear yourself apart or stand up for yourself, both physically and emotionally. Someday you'll look back at that one photo in the bikini on the lake, the one that made you feel insecure, fat, pale, or less-developed than the other girls, and think, 'Wow, I really was beautiful. How I wish I had known it then.' Another day, you'll look down at your aging hands knowing that those very hands are the tangible evidence that you've lived, truly lived; that you are a woman with a unique story, a woman with perfect purpose. You'll feel empowered as a woman who no longer dissects every angle of her body but instead the ingredient labels on those trendy products, because you care about what goes in and on your body as you strive for health, strength, and longevity.

And one day, down the road, you'll look at your mom and really see her. In that moment, you'll understand what it is that makes her so beautiful, and you'll long for hands that tell a story like hers.

Original article

[christina-thebarber-yogi]

Oy I was scrolling through this app and started thinking about this era of smartphones and social media and all that. I miss the days when you had to be there, where the people you loved were actually present with you instead of you having to compete with their phones for attention. I wish that I could just quit social media altogether. On the flip side I would also love to see different bodies doing yoga besides the same slim women. Anyway, I've made it through another day of the challenge. It gets a little easier each day, especially with the workouts and the water. I still feel like most of my spare time is in the bathroom but I like having an excuse to stay on track whether it's the vegan diet or the not drinking... the rest of the work makes it worthwhile. I may feel differently tomorrow but today I feel good. I fixed another taco (and forgot my lettuce 😩) and then baked some oatmeal coconut cookies with rice and tapioca flours so I guess that makes them gluten free as well 🥴 For dinner, my older daughter fixed me some stir-fried rice and veggies from her job. Whoever was on rice duty today doesn't know how to cook rice so I learned how to fix undercooked rice that's already mixed into a dish. I ate about half of what she brought home and then I ate three mandarin oranges and a bowl of strawberries. For my outdoor workout, I skated on the tennis court and for my indoor workout I did 15 minutes of weightlifting for my lower body and then 30 minutes of yoga.

[doll-r-t]

We Did It

Short drabble

Syverson x disabled!reader

TW: Period mentioned, chronic pain, slow loss of muscles, a bit of angst and fluff

Masterlist

gif cred to owner

Not everyone's disability is the same. But I AM disabled and I wrote this because I just got my confirmation that I am severely disabled. It was a hard battle but I did it. I just wished I had someone to celebrate with. Also we need more x disabled!reader. I never read a one-shot or story with one and I want to branch into that.

If anyone has an idea about what I could write with a disabled reader let me know. Like a setting or a promo, a line whatever but please only disabled people may request this!!!

You had not heard the postman. You had been cleaning up a bit, hanging up clothes doing light chores. You were tired and a bit in pain. It was the time of the month were you felt exhausted. Your gynecologist had put you on the pill after you explained to her that your pain got worse when you were about to get your period. You had chronic pain and any changes in your body messed with you. You could not move your legs, your lower abdomen hurt, and you fainted or got migraines. Two weeks of hell and the next two weeks it took you to recover just for it to begin again. You were tired of it so finally, you did go to your gyno and she had a long discussion with you. It seemed like it was best to, for now, permanently stop you from getting your period. It had a light migraine medicine in it and it had gotten a lot better. The pain was not too bad. You could walk a bit and do some stuff but you still had your bad days. After all, your period was not the reason for your chronic pain. That you were born with. However, as soon as you would get off the pill again you would probably get worse again. You were born with a disability in your legs, it affects your entire body. Your muscles were slowly going away and in the last two years, they had gotten worse. When you met Syverson you fought tooth and nail not to get attached. But he was so handsome and kind. It had killed you knowing you could not be with him. How could you burden someone else with your incapability? You had a particularly bad day, falling into a depression. Your body hurt and you could hardly get out of bed. You had overslept forgetting to tell your friend not to pick you up for a night out. You especially did not see her text that Syverson was picking you up for it. Your friend always encouraged you to go for it with Sy. How could she understand what you were going through? And Syverson was an outdoor guy strong, funny, and charming. He could get someone better than you. He deserved it. He should not have to suffer your needs. But he persisted so when he came to pick you up and you looked like hell you told him everything. He never left your side after that.                   

     You could not hold down a job and constantly worried about how you would make money. When Syverson suggested he take care of you you fought for days. You were not using him for his money. Then one morning he came with moving boxes to your one-room apartment. “I love you and I am not leaving. So get your lovely behind over her give me a kiss and then pack up your stuff.” You did as he said, too stunned. That was the day you were moving into his apartment. Even though he told you a million times you did not need to do anything you cooked and cleaned making sure he would always come home to a nice home. You did not have to work Syverson kept true to his word taking care of everything. You had your days where you thought of yourself as a burden but you could not give up on your life with Syverson. You loved him and you loved your life even though it was filled with hardship. On bad days you ordered take-out just cuddling for the rest of the day. Taking care of the household was exhausting to you but fulfilling. You liked having a home to run and taking care of the man you loved in the only way you could. Syverson made sure to always praise you.                                              

  When things had gotten worse he encouraged you to file for a disability pass. You went to your doctors to get all the issues on your medical records and then sent a letter to the office responsible for assessing disability. It was a hard fight. And you were getting tired.     

   “Babe are you here?” Syverson walked through the door to the living room. You were folding clothes, looking tired. He put the mail onto the table and walked over to you kissing your forehead. “I’ll quickly shower.” He walked into the bathroom leaving you in the living room. You looked over at the mail. Your heart sped up, you reached for the letter on the table. You knew the sign on it, it was the department for disability. Your hand shook, slowly you opened the letter. Your last letter was the last time you could reject their claim and if they still did not recognize your disability you would have to go to court. You did not have the money for that. Taking a deep breath you ripped the letter from its envelope. Folding it open all air left you. You sat down, your hand over your mouth and your eyes watering.         

   “Do you wanna get take out babe?” Syverson was done with his shower. You read the letter over and over again not hearing Sy. “Babe?” He walked out of the bathroom in his towel. “Sweetheart, what's going on?” He saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, kneeling in front of you he had a frown on his face. “I got it.” He looked at you confused than at the letter. “They accepted. I am officially severely disabled.” He looked at you in shock quickly reading the letter in your hand. You could only stare at Sy tears still on your face. “You did it, babe.” He breathed in awe. “No, we did it.” He sprung up hugging you to him. You started laughing, from happiness, and relief. Letting out all the tension you had for the last months. Snot and tears were rolling down your face when Sy set you down. He did not care he kissed you hard. We gotta celebrate. He quickly walked over to the kitchen. He pulled out two champagne glasses and put some ice in them. Then he got your favored kids “alcohol” from the pantry. He should have put it in the fridge for such a case but he was too happy to be annoyed right now. You did not drink alcohol for one you had a problem when you were younger. The pain and stress you were under were the triggers. Now being on so much medication you should not be drinking alcohol anyway. Syverson only drank on occasion when he was out with his friends and only a small amount. You told him every time that it was alright for him to drink you did not mind. But he refused.                  

 He came back into the living room holding a glass out to you. You had whipped the snot away with the sleeve of your jumper. Still smiling at the letter. You smiled, even more, when you saw Syverson. You stepped towards him taking the glass from him. Caressing his face you looked at him like he was everything you needed. “Have you any idea how much I love you?” His eyes softened. He knew you thought of yourself as a burden but to him, you were his everything. He kissed you softly.                                                                     

The ring he had bought, today, burned in his back pocket.

[mrsalwayswrite]

Sinners and Saints (Sihtric x reader)

Summary: One day you stumble upon your childhood friend, Osferth, whom you have not seen in years. Yet the more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself drawn to his companion, Sihtric….and the butterflies his dark eyes give you.

This is my contribution to @emilyhufflepufftlk 100 followers challenge! Congratulations again! I’m so happy for you! 

My prompt was - "Love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints." - Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton (in bold within the story)

Words: 5500

Warnings: A couple of swear words, fluff, my poor attempts at humor, Osferth being a good bro. 

Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @flowers-in-your-hayr​

This gorgeous moodboard was made by @flowers-in-your-hayr​. All credit goes to her! 

"...so there she was, aye, and next thing I know, she flips 'er dress up and I see the most perfect set of…."

 "I'm going to be sick." Osferth mumbled to himself, trying to block out Finan's retelling of his prior night. To the laughter of his companions, he started to push away from the outdoor table at the alehouse. He was no virgin anymore, Finan and Uhtred had seen to that, but he still felt squeamish when listening to their stories of recent conquests. His mother's voice whispered in the back of his mind, things she had told him before her passing, about respect and love. Plus, he could not help but think that this idea of conquests, of women's worth derived from what pleasure a man could take from their bodies, was what brought bastards into this world….like him. 

 "Alright, Finan, we get it. You saw the arse of a goat and couldn't help yourself." Uhtred teased, slinging an arm around Osferth so he could not escape them- most likely to find a church and pray for their souls. 

 "Oi, lord! Ya know that was one time!" Finan feigned mock-outrage, making Uhtred and Sihtric laugh. 

 Osferth put a hand over his eyes as if that would somehow block the image from his mind. Something he desperately did not want there. 

 "How much longer are we here, lord?" Sihtric asked, changing the subject, while twirling a dagger between his hands fluidly. 

 Although Osferth would never admit it aloud, and God forgive him, it was hard not to be jealous of how easily his companions handled their weapons like they had been born with weapons in hand. They continued to tell him it was practice. Recently though, he decided it was a gift that he clearly did not have. 

 "Until I feel satisfied with the training of Lord Godwin's fyrd and his defenses." Uhtred stated indifferently, as if it was something he had to repeat to himself often. 

 "Ya think King Alfred knew how much of a horse's arse Lord Godwin is?"

 Uhtred glanced up, a tiny smirk on his lips. "Probably."

 "But he knew you were the man for the job." Osferth commented. Not necessarily to defend his father but to hopefully bolster Uhtred's confidence. "The men respect you, even if their lord fails to acknowledge his own respect."

 "The baby monk is right." Finan said. "What else needs to be done for the town?"

 Uhtred and Finan began discussing ideas and strategies, Sihtric adding an occasional comment but mostly just listening. 

 Osferth found his attention wandering, since this was an area outside of his expertise. His gaze drifted to the town and its residents who moved about to complete their duties under the midday sun. Their group had only been in this large town for two days and already Osferth was keen to return to Coccham. 

 From amidst the crowd, a familiar face caught his attention. The world tilted off its axis as his entire body went rigid, all his focus zeroed in on her. His heart hammered in his chest and the air whooshed from his lungs painfully. 

 "Y/n?" He muttered to himself, disbelief and shock clearly painted in his tone and on his face. 

 "Baby monk, ya alright?"

 Finan's words did even register, so consumed by the ghost before him. Rapidly, he slid off the bench, almost losing his footing when he went to stand, but pressed on, hurrying towards her. 

 "Y/n!" He called, an almost desperate tone in his yell. 

 When she did not turn around, he shouted louder. "Y/N!" 

 That time she paused, then slowly turned to find him standing still amongst those walking around him, a solid rock in a stream of people. He held his breath as he intently watched her expression, suddenly worried seeing him would not be as meaningful as he hoped. He could see her utter his name silently, eyes wide. Then in the next moment, she dropped the basket on her hip and ran towards him. He opened his arms just in time for her to collide with him, and with her embrace, a painful wave of nostalgia and guilt crashed over him with the strength of a tempest. 

 "It's really you." She finally whispered, peering at him in awe. 

 "Hi." He smiled, his own shock clouding his mind from forming coherent sentences.  

 Then to his surprise, she reared back and punched him in the arm. 

 "Ouch! What was that for?" He whined, rubbing the offended limb. 

 Throwing her hands in the air, they landed on her hips as her voice rose in anger. "For disappearing in the middle of the night without telling me!"

 "I did tell you."

 "That you were THINKING about leaving, not that you WERE leaving!" She reared back and punched him in the arm again, ignoring his pained cry as she continued to berate him. "I spent an entire day running around the monastery trying to find you only for Father Harold to finally pull me aside and tell me you left for Wincheaster." 

 And there was the heaping of guilt he knew he deserved. "I'm sorry….I just….I just knew if I didn't leave that night, then I never would."

 Her face softened at his quiet admission, understanding passing in her eyes. "I know. I wasn't truly surprised…. Just wish you'd have told me before."

 "I'm sorry."

 She sighed, all anger and frustration disappearing, much to his relief. She was a force to be reckoned with when truly in her fury. "So, what are you doing here?"

 "Ah, traveled here with the Lord Uhtred to assist Lord Godwin in his defenses….or something."

 "Uhtred? That Uhtred?"

 He smiled at her, catching the reverence in her tone. "That very one."

 "How did you find him? How did you join him? Wait! Are you a warrior now? We have a lot to talk about and you better get started." There went the hands on her hips again, making his smile widen at the image. Even as a young girl, when her hands were on her hips, you knew she meant business. 

 "Would you like to meet him first?"

 A shy look passed over her face that he was unused to seeing. "I'm…. I'm not presentable to meet a lord."

 He scanned her, noting the dried mud on the hem of her dress and shoes, the small smear of what looked like flour on her left temple. What he noticed most was how the years had made her even more beautiful. She had always been a pretty girl but now, she truly looked like a beautiful woman. A fact he was unsure of how to feel about. 

 He chuckled lightly after a moment. "Well, you certainly smell better than Lord Uhtred so I think it's fine."

 That caused her to tip her head back and laugh loudly, the desired effect of his comment. She gathered up her basket and walked next to Osferth, back to the table where his companions were. It was impossible to ignore their curious stares as they approached. 

 "Lord Uhtred, may I introduce y/n. Y/n, this is Lord Uhtred of Bebbanburg." Osferth said, standing next to her at the end of the table.

 Uhtred nodded graciously, clearly wondering why this woman mattered and why Osferth was introducing her. 

 "Oh, it's an honor to meet you!" Y/n gushed, a bright smile on her face. "Uncle Leofric told us so much about you, but I never thought I'd ever meet you in person."

 "Leofric?" That caught his lord's attention, his gaze narrowing and eyeing her with renewed interest. "How did you know that turd?"

 "When he came to visit Osferth, he'd tell us stories."

 "Ah….all exaggerated, of course." Uhtred said with a cocky smirk. 

 "Wait. I think we're missin' the most important thing here." Finan leaned forward, dark eyes bouncing between Osferth and her, as he pointed a finger at them, hand still wrapped around his cup. "Ya said 'Uncle Leofric'....are ya related to Osferth?"

 Osferth answered quickly. "No, her family owned the farm next to the monastery, so we grew up together." Then he furrowed his brows as a thought hit him. He had been so amazed to see his childhood best friend (only friend really) that he had not realized that she should be back at the farm and not in this town. "Wait, y/n, why are you here and not at the farm?"

 Her face crumpled for a brief second before she was able to mask it into a neutral expression. She shrugged casually, but he could read the subtle tension in the action. "We lost the farm, so mother and I came here to look for work."

 "Ah." There were so many things he wanted to ask but could tell now was not the right time. If she lived here, he would have plenty of time to hear the full story later. Instead he decided to change the subject. "So, you know Lord Uhtred, the others are Finan and Sihtric…. And Sihtric is also a bastard." He added as an afterthought. 

 That made her face light up as she turned to look at the Dane. "Hey, another bastard! We really need to start a club. We can all rant about how awful our fathers are."

 "You're a bastard?" Uhtred asked, shock evident in his voice. 

 "Yes, my lord. My mother was a servant for a lord. Got pregnant. The lord's wife did not like that so sent my pregnant mother back to her family. Certainly, it was our Lord's Will because how else would I have been able to grow up with Osferth?" She asked, patting him on the cheek affectionately. He blushed and swatted her hand away, much to the other's amusement. 

 "I reckon you have quite a few amusin' stories of growin' up with Osferth, eh?" Finan smirked. 

 "I might….but I don't share secrets for free." She matched his smirk with her own crooked smile. 

 He slapped his hand on the table. "I'll owe ya a drink! I need to 'ear this."

 "No….oh no, no, no." Osferth said but knew it was a lost cause before he even tried to deter them. The rest were already deciding when and where to meet that night. "Lord help me."

 "It's not that bad." She teased, bumping his arm with hers. "The worst one is when we went streaking naked through the monastery."

 Osferth felt his face heat up like the flames of hell itself as everyone laughed. "It was your idea."

 "Yeah, yeah, so you like to remind me." She smiled fondly. "Now, if I don't get back home, my mother is going to think I've run off with some man or I've been kidnapped. Either way, she will raise the fyrd herself to find me. I will see you all tonight."

 The others said their goodbyes but before she could step too far away, Osferth gently touched her arm, halting her movement. 

 "Y/n….I'm….I'm glad our paths have crossed once again."

 She pulled him into a tight embrace. "I am too, Osferth. I've missed you." With that, she turned and walked away with her basket still on her hip; but not without glancing over her shoulder at the group before disappearing around some buildings. 

 Once out of sight, Osferth sighed and turned back to his companions, only to see them all still staring intently in the direction she disappeared. 

 "No….y/n is off-limits to you fornicators." He stated firmly, well as firmly as he could be. 

 "She's very pretty…." Uhtred declared, a playful grin on his face. 

 "Lord, no. All of you, keep your hands off of her."

 "Or what?" Finan chuckled, eyes alight with mischief. "You'll fight us, baby monk?"

 "I will if I must."

 "Alright. Her dignity won't be tarnished." Uhtred lifted his cup in Osferth's direction. "Your reputation might be tonight depending on what stories she shares." 

 Osferth groaned, sitting back down next to his lord. "I'm going to need a lot of ale."

 "That can certainly be arranged!" Finan laughed, jovial once more. 

 As discussion started back up again, they all missed the silent, longing glance Sihtric snuck one last time in the direction she walked away….

 *****

 Over the next several weeks Lord Uhtred helped increase the defenses of the town and instructed the guards and fyrd how to better defend against the Danes. 

 During those weeks, you found yourself frequently spending time with Osferth and his companions. First it started off with meeting them in the evenings for ale, laughter and good company. Within days, it became almost expected for one of them to purposefully seek you out. Most of the time it was Osferth and Sihtric coming to join you in whatever your tasks for the day because they were bored or unwanted in meetings. It was not difficult to tell that although they were certainly welcomed members of Uhtred's group, not everyone else saw them in such a positive light. 

 So the three of you often passed the hours away together, waiting until evening to rejoin Uhtred and Finan at the alehouse. Their presence became such a regular occurrence that your mother practically adopted them, they even had their assigned seats at your small kitchen table for meals. Somehow, they seamlessly slipped into your daily life in a way that seemed like they were meant to be there this whole time. 

 Even at the alehouse in the evenings, you usually found yourself nestled between Osferth and Sihtric on the bench. A place you certainly found yourself enjoying more and more….especially next to the Dane. 

 Over the weeks, there was something growing between you and the Dane. It gradually revealed itself with each passing day, growing like the roots of an oak tree. It was through the borderline flirtatious comments that you teased each other with. It was in the subtle touches that caused butterflies in your stomach to dance, from your fingers barely gracing each other when passing something, to the way you leaned your head on his shoulder when your eyelids threatened to close, to the way your thighs would touch under the table and away from view of the others. It was in the lingering looks when your gazes locked and you swore you never wanted to look away. It was in the consistency of being next to one another whenever you could, either sitting at a table or just walking down the street, almost like your bodies were magnetized to one another's. 

 Plus the more you talked to Sihtric, the more you desired to know about him. For he was like no other man you had ever met. 

 Almost a fortnight after you reunited with Osferth, there was one particular evening after staying out far too late with the four men and drinking a bit too much, Sihtric graciously offered to walk you back home. You knew propriety demanded Osferth should be the one to escort you but he was already passed out, head on the table and snores emitting from his mouth. Giggling at your childhood friend, you accepted Sihtric's offer and the two of you easily fell into step. 

 On the walk you learned more about his past, about going up in Dunholm and his cruel father. You had heard bits and pieces while with Osferth and the others. Maybe it was under the cover of darkness, maybe it was the extra ale flowing through both of your blood, but he confessed secrets to you he had never told another besides his mother. When you reached your home, before he could slip away, you clutched his arm and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. After, you bid him goodnight and slipped inside your humble home. 

 After that night, he always walked you home, sometimes alone and sometimes one of the others would join. But when it was just you two, when you were alone, you would bid him a goodnight with a kiss on the cheek or he would kiss your hand, locking eyes with you in a way that made a fire stir in your belly and your core clench. 

 There was definitely something between the two of you, but neither seemed able to verbalize it or take the next step. 

 *****

 "So, what is going on between you and Cedric?" 

 You turned your head to look at Osferth, who laid on the grass next to you, soaking in the heat of the early afternoon sun. "What?"

 "You know….that blacksmith. The one you were talking to the other day."

 "Oh." The memory hit you. You had stopped by to drop off your mother's damaged cooking pot for Cedric to attempt in fixing, although you personally thought it was a helpless cause. The dent in it was significant, but he offered to see what he could do. As you dropped it off at his workshop, the two of you began discussing an approaching saint's day and the celebration that would occur with it. 

 Several minutes later, you heard your name called and looked over to see Osferth and Sihtric walking towards you. You bid Cedric a farewell, promising to stop by the next day to come pick up the pot. After receiving his promise to try his best at fixing it, you headed off towards the stables with your fellow bastards. At the time, you had not thought the encounter significant but with it happening two days ago and Osferth now bringing it up, you wondered how long he had been ruminating on it. 

 Finally, you simply said, "he's a good man, and has been kind to my mother and I since we arrived here."

 "Is he….pursuing you?" Osferth turned his head to scrutinize you, his lips pursed slightly as if concerned about your answer. 

 You openly laughed at the notion. "No, that's silly. He is just a kind man."

 If anything, you had to fend off flirtatious advancements from some of the young men that worked under Cedric. Those same young men quickly learned to keep their eyes on their work and mouths shut. When one openly called out to you, and before you could offer a sharp retort, Cedric threw a hammer at him from across the shop. He bellowed that he did not allow heathens to work for him and if they chose to act godless then they needed to find a new place of work. Their blatant interest diminished after that and Cedric made a point to be the only one that conversed with you if you came to the shop. Although he was easily ten years your senior, you found him a likeable man with a quick wit and sarcastic comments that occasionally left you in stitches. 

 The idea of him pursuing you was an amusing idea. He was still a bachelor, never having married, claiming that his work and apprentices kept him far too busy for much else. 

 Your answer appeared to satisfy Osferth. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but immediately slowly closed it and turned his head back to stare at the blue sky. 

 A stillness settled after your answer, only interrupted by the frequent bird song and the wind through the tall grass. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth and just lying around relaxing on the hill outside of the town, away from the hustle and bustle and chores that demanded your attention.  

 "He was watching you like a man who wants a woman." Sihtric stated after a couple minutes of peaceful silence. 

 Startled by his sour tone, you shifted up to look over at the Dane. He sat on the other side of Osferth, one leg propped up and an arm casually slung over it, but his gaze was focused straight ahead, staring off into the distance. Now that you thought about it, over the past two days Sihtric had become more reserved and sullen than you had ever seen. Even his companions commented on it a few times to which he would shrug his shoulders or make an excuse and walk away. You had thought he just missed Coccham, the group having been away for so long, or something happened that made him introspective. It had also not escaped your notice how the prior closeness between you two had halted. Now you wondered if there was something more to his demeanor.  

 "Well, that is most unfortunate for him since I am not interested in him."

 "Does your mother not want you to marry?" Osferth asked, his voice deceptively neutral. 

 Sighing, you leaned back on your hands. Eventually you knew Osferth would bring up the topic, he was your friend after all and you were certainly of marriageable age. Actually far too old to not be married by some people's standards, but you ignored them. "She does but she has told me that she will not force it upon me. She said I should make my own choice….that if I am able, I should choose love."

 You knew your mother offered you that choice in hopes your life would turn out differently than her own. 

 "But if Cedric is a good, kind man….could you not love him….or someone like him?" Osferth pressed. 

 "Perhaps. There are plenty of men I have seen who the church would call a 'good' man but are cruel in their own home, and there are many men who are calloused but it's obvious they love their wife and children. My love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. I would rather choose a man whom I know loves and cares for me than a man I know is 'good' but carries no love in his heart." You paused, the candid confession rolling off your tongue before you realized it. Sighing, you ran a hand over your hair before quietly saying. "I just….I just want someone that loves me….sinner or saint."

 Not a word was spoken as all three contemplated your statement, the silence hanging heavy like a brewing storm. Tilting your face to the sky, unable to meet the gazes of your companions, you chastised yourself for the candor with which you spoke. Osferth had asked a simple question initially and you chose to make it complicated. They did not need to know how you longed for love, how the hope for it in your potential future was what kept you going. It was foolish and you supposed after this, they would only see you as a silly girl with outlandish dreams of a storybook romance. 

 Finally, Osferth broke the silence. "Well, I shall be praying fervently for this man….hopefully he knows what he is getting into before he marries you."

 You laughed, appreciating his lighthearted comment. Reaching a hand out to smack Osferth's arm, you teased. "Keep that up and you won't be invited to my wedding."

 "Your mother will let me in."

 "Yeah, you're probably right." You glanced over in the direction of the town, regretting that your time away had to end. "I need to head back, those chores won't finish themselves."

 The three of you headed back to the town, quiet contemplation cloaking your group. Yet you feared that whatever spark lay between you and the Dane had been extinguished forever by your unexpected honesty. For still he refused to look your way, keeping his gaze focused forward. If your heart fissured within your chest, you swallowed down the pain. It was better for the spark to die out now then burn brightly only to be smothered later. 

 Or at least that was what you told yourself. 

 *****

 "What you said….about the sinners and the saints…."

 You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat with a silent scream on your tongue. In the small herb garden behind your house, you had thought you were alone. After the awkward conversation on the hill earlier that day, you sought solace in your chores. Thankfully Osferth and Sihtric headed back to meet with their companions on their own accord, leaving you to trudge through your muddled thoughts with all the grace of a newborn foal. 

 Now you found the very person who your thoughts centered on, standing just a few paces from you….and your heart began to race for a very different reason. 

 When his voice trailed off, those dark eyes that set fire licking through your veins dropped to the ground, you quietly stood up from where you had knelt, wiping the dirt from your hands, although you moved no closer. 

 "Sihtric?" You tried to prompt him. 

 "Is it true?" His piercing gaze lifted to meet yours, stealing the very breath from your lungs. "Your love doesn't discriminate?"

 "Yes." You breathed out. 

 He nodded silently before taking a step closer to you. "And what about….what about Danes?"

 Your chest pulled tight at his words, yet a coy smile grew on your lips. The flutter in your belly made your gaze drop for a moment as you tried to stifle the excitement making butterflies dance. Although this was no declaration, it was the closest the two of you had talked about what lay between you. Taking a steadying breath, you prayed this moment would not pass by without confessing the truth that you had harbored in your heart for weeks now. 

 "Not even towards Danes." You shook your head, the smile still on your lips. "And…. There is one I'm becoming quite fond of lately."

 "Yeah?" He took two steps closer, somehow moving cautiously but eating the ground with each determined step. 

 "But….do you think this Dane could be….fond of me?" You softly murmured, feeling as if your heart lay in the palms of your hands for all to see. 

 That last step separating you two disappeared almost before you finished asking your question. His hands ever so gently reached over to take yours, entwining your fingers together. The two of you stood so close, your chests almost touched with each breath you took. Your breathing seemed to cease under the intensity of his gaze and a shiver raced up your spine. Yet you had no desire to withdraw from him.

 "He would be a fool not to." He whispered, the barest hint of a tremble in his voice. "I'd bet you are constantly on this Dane's mind. That he cannot go a day without seeing your face and hearing your laugh. You are the first thought that he wakes to and the reason he falls asleep with a smile. That you have become the north star that it seems the gods have been guiding him towards for his whole life."

  As he spoke, everything faded to oblivion around you. The past and future vanished. Dane versus Saxon disappeared. The world narrowed down to this….this moment….this moment that you had dreamt of but never thought would come true. 

 The two of you continued to stand there, lost in one another's eyes with fingers intertwined. Your heart raced within your chest but a cooling breeze swept away the fears that plagued your mind. For staring at him, you knew he spoke no falsehoods. That he owned your heart just as much as you owned his. That very heart you could feel hammering away in his own chest. His eyes fervently held yours, a silent conversation, a confession, spoken only in looks but you both understood the language. His gaze dipped down to your lips, tracing them before slowly rising once again to your eyes. A curl of pleasure blossomed in your core as you witnessed the fire now in his eyes. 

 "If this Dane wanted to kiss me…. I wouldn't mind."

 A deliciously, sinful smirk teased his mouth. "As my lady commands."

 His head tilted, leaning towards yours. Unconsciously your eyelids fluttered closed. Then the briefest of touches made your knees weak and your mouth part open in a sigh. After a moment's hesitation, he continued to shower your jawline with kisses. Needing to touch him, your hands landed on his chest, feeling the tunic that covered his firm chest. Your hands moved upward to grasp the back of his neck, his pulse jumping for a second as your nails scraped his skin. His hands landed on the curve of your waist, bringing you even closer to him, erasing the unwanted space between your bodies. 

 As his lips began their ascent upward along the otherwise of your jaw, you moved. For the burning sparks in your body screamed if he did not kiss you, you would spontaneously combust. Shifting your face, you stole a kiss on his lips before he could place it on your skin. It was more of a gentle pressing of your mouths, but even then, you heard a sharp inhale from him. Before you could question him, his mouth returned to yours with soft, probing kisses that urged you to respond. Not that you would ever deny him. What started off as a gentle flame quickly became a roaring fire. Breathing became unnecessary, for how could air bring you life when your body craved Sihtric, when your lungs demanded to breathe him in instead. He led you in a drugging kiss that had you melting against him. Your lips drank from one another as if that alone could sustain you forevermore.  

 "THANK YA, GOD!!" 

 The passionate kiss abruptly ended as Sihtric and your gazes darted towards the side of your house. Only to be met with the sight of his three companions standing at the entrance in various states of smugness. 

 "Oh, for the love of Odin…." Sihtric mumbled. 

 You buried your face in Sihtric's chest, face heated in embarrassment but unable to stop the giggles that poured forth. So caught up in finally confessing your feelings and kissing the man who haunted your dreams, you forgot that anyone could walk by and see you. His arms tightened around you, keeping you within his protective, loving embrace….and you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be. 

 "Took the two of ya long enough." Finan continued, leaning against the side of your humble home with a shit-eating grin. 

 "Amen." Osferth had a small, teasing smile on his face. "Thought I would have to lock them in a room together before one of them finally confessed."

 Apparently, you and Sihtric were not as subtle as you previously thought. Now it made sense why Osferth was questioning you about Cedric and your thoughts on love and marriage earlier. Your heart flooded with gratitude towards your childhood friend, for without him you doubted neither Sihtric or you would have spoken up. Peering over, you caught Osferth's eye and mouthed a quick 'thank you'. He nodded, a simple joy radiating from his face. 

 "Lord?" Sihtric called over with a blank expression. "Permission to continue?"

 Uhtred chuckled. "I guess you've waited long enough. Go ahead." 

 Without waiting a moment longer, Sihtric tipped your face back up towards his and claimed your lips once more. You vaguely thought you heard laughter coming from the others but it all blurred away, like a faint sound while underwater. All you could see, all you could feel, all you could hear was Sihtric. 

 Just how you wanted it. 

 Suddenly you yanked your head back, your breathing labored and lips swollen. "My mother is helping at a nearby farm today. She won't be back until it's dark."

 He hummed against your skin trailing small kisses along your jawline and down your neck as if unable to keep his hands and mouth off you now that the dam had been released. 

 "I'm not as pure as Osferth thinks me to be."

 That statement made his actions stop. Carefully he raised his head to meet your gaze. "After dark?" He confirmed, voice rough in a way that sent a bolt of heat through you. 

 "Yes, she planned on having supper with them….so my home is currently empty….and I did just clean my blankets the other day…."

 He swooped in to give you a feverish, greedy kiss that left no doubt where his mind had gone. When he finally pulled back, you were surprised your legs could still hold you upright. Your whole body felt like puddy in his arms and he had only kissed you, albeit you doubted you would ever forget the way his mouth worshiped yours. 

 "You are certain? You want this?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes once more. "You want me?" 

 It was the last question, the vulnerable undertone, the hint of insecurity in it that sealed your decision. Letting your actions be your answer, you grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the door to your home. It did not take more than a second for him to come beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

 With his taste on your lips, the future did not matter right now. It did not matter that he was Dane and you were not. All you knew was Sihtric was neither a saint nor a sinner, but simply a man deserving of love. The river of your love was pointing you directly towards him, and you silently vowed to never let it run dry. 

[ppersonna]

out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults. 

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow. 

“What’s got you so perky this morning?” 

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead. 

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. “I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness. 

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts. 

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag. 

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams. 

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer. 

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words. 

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists. 

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares. 

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer. 

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces. 

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”. 

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?” 

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches. 

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic. 

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help. 

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.  

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?” 

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply. 

“Yes, I would l-love that.” 

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away. 

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey! 

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.  

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.  

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp. 

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?” 

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes. 

“I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.  

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.” 

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn’t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.  

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off. 

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It’s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.  

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

tag list! - @jimidol @aretha170 @dearbambideer​ 

[yandere-sins]

My Name

Horrortober Day 6: Time “How long has it been?”  

Oh man, first Xiao piece and I??? Really enjoyed it???? When will he come home, I’m desperate for my lovely boy ;;

Warnings: Yandere, Twisted Thoughts, Fighting/Death of monsters, Planning of Kidnapping Characters: Xiao x Reader

How long has it been?

It felt like Xiao waited forever for you to call him. He would have loved to deny that he waited for it… but he did. Ever since he told you to call when you needed him, he had been waiting—hoping!— you would, rather sooner than later. If only he could get a good look at you again, he would feel prepared enough to face his duties again. You were the beacon of light in his life, no matter how harsh he spoke to you or faked disliking you. Your job wasn’t any more dangerous than any other in this world, making you travel back and forth cities to sell your merchandise there. You needed someone who could help you if things went downhill. 

You needed Xiao. 

His fingers were still tingling from the feeling of your body as he held you. Even when you squirmed and flinched in his arms as he defeated the monsters bothering you, you were warm and soft, and you smelled like dirt- But the good kind! Xiao didn’t know how else to describe it. You’ve been on the road for a long time, showers weren’t your priority probably, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. You were perfect just as you were.

And finally, you called. Or rather, screamed into the disappearing sun on the horizon, for Xiao to come and save you. You fulfilled the promise to ask for his help any time, and he fulfilled his by coming to your rescue. No matter how weak he felt, how much he wanted to vomit at the sight of more and more foes arriving. With you, weakly as you were, leaning into his chest, avoiding your eyes from the death and fight, he would have defeated armies of Hilichurls if necessary. All while holding you, never letting go of his precious sun. 

The toll on his body was tremendous, his breathing ragged. Still, standing in the middle of disappearing corpses, Xiao was victorious. For you. For both of you. He turned his head to look at you, the disheveled hair slick with sweat out of fear and flight instinct. You weren’t made for the outdoors; not as long as they were cruel and dangerous. You wouldn’t have come out of this attack unscathed if not for him. 

Letting go of his weapon, he petted over your head, pushing it down and combing out some leaves. He knew he was rough around the edges, unfit for gentle comfort. But if he could help your shivering to wane, he would have tried anything. You once showed kindness to him; he had to repay it. 

Helping you towards a big stone out in the open, you two were stumbling over your feet while you grew wary, looking up and realizing there was no fight anymore. But Xiao wasn’t about to let you go, much less leave you alone right away. He’d stay. It’s been too long, and the temptation to be close to you too big.

Making you sit down, you folded like a sack of potatoes before regaining some composure. You were fidgeting with your ripped sleeves, avoiding looking up at the dark matter rising to the sky from the dead Hilichurls. Instead, you looked at him, studied him, his hair, expression, the hands that tried to desperately be gentle as they searched for wounds on your body. Xiao didn’t mind. You could stare as much as you wanted at him as long as he didn’t have to respond to it. Silently, he was begging you to look more at him. Just… a little more. Look at him as if he was your hero.

Edgy, you called him after bothering him at the balcony of the Wangshu Inn. No one allowed you to be there; Xiao didn’t want to have company that night. But you couldn’t sleep, and sitting on the roof appeared to be a better alternative than turning in your bed to you. He told you he hated your presence, and you laughed, saying it was fine. Fine. How could it be fine? You told him about your business and your family even though he never asked, and then you asked about him and his past. He… he had been weak. That night, he had fought and conquered and been incredibly weak afterwards. So he told you, and you laughed again, telling him how edgy he was before leaving him behind, confused and irritated by your words.

The next day, you brought Almond Tofu and left him a note, thanking him for sticking with you and be honest.

He didn’t forget about you ever since.

Even Xiao felt stupid for seeing you off when your stay ended. He had no business meddling with you or anyone in your world, but now that he finally saw you again, he was furious for letting you go. What he should have done was hold you back, make you stay longer. But when you thanked him for offering his help, smiling at him so kindly, he let go of your arm, and gone you were. Only to end up battered and bruised, just like he feared.

“How long has it been?” he asked, dragging his finger over a bruise that wasn’t fresh anymore. It was at least two or three days old, yet, no tint lighter than as if it happened just now. Instantly, his throat was clogged with guilt. And though his question wasn’t about the bruise, you answered honestly, confirming the two days he assumed.

“I meant, how long has it been since someone called for me,” he corrected himself in a mumble, a question you were in no place to answer. Years. Decades. So long, he didn’t remember the last time. But now, you did. You. The person he wanted to answer to. Only, he was too late anyway—he couldn’t protect you either.

“You need to be treated,” he worried with a stern face. Anger flitted over his features as you shook your head, wiping away the tears of panic you had produced. “What I need is to get to Mondstadt,” you argued. Thick-headed. Stubborn. A thick-headed, stubborn, weak human, that’s what you were. That’s what you were supposed to be, but his heart throbbed painfully as he cursed you in his mind. Not even his body wanted to think badly about you, much less Xiao himself.

“No,” he denied your idea firmly, placing his arm around your shoulder and hooking the other under your knees. There it was again, that tingling sensation that overcame him when he touched you. You were squirming some more against his actions before you tensed in pain. Bruises would heal. Cuts would close. But if there was something internally, something Xiao could not see, then he didn’t know how to help you. It was him who was pathetic, still knowing nothing about the humans he was protecting silently from the shadows. He was pathetic because he denied getting close to them, fearing they’d make him weak.

And he had been right. You made him weak. Weak in the knees, weak in his head. Gone was his keen mind and tough body. Now there was only the invested, curious, worrying Xiao. Xiao at his worst, and he hated himself for it. Seeing you hurt and in pain made him want to be strong even more. So he could protect you when you would call his name. But he wasn’t sure if you would after he already let you down.

Xiao knew everything about the lands around you. He knew where the closest doctor was, and he’d get you to them and then… then what?

Gnawing at his lip as he waited for you to get better, he stood there in silence, clothed in the darkness of the room you were offered to rest that night. There had to be something he could do. Something only he could do for you. He didn’t have the leisure of traveling like you, and he wasn’t a human that could join you easily either. But he was strong if you didn’t warp his head into the miserable state he found himself around you. He could protect you, but how would he do it?

There needed to be a plan soon. The sun was rising, the day promising to be beautiful for travels. And you would want to go. Because as wondrous and loveable as you were, you were also stubborn and weak. Duty-bound, like him. But both of you couldn’t share this trait, not when he wanted to keep you from danger instead of making you rush headfirst into it. One of you had to compromise, and as the sun was setting, Xiao realized something else.

If he was strong, and you were not. He, an important Adeptus, and you, another human between so many, then you needed to be put back into your place. A place of safety. Somewhere close to him. It was a stretch to assume other Adepti would help him, but they could create realms. Safe realms he could carry with him. Even if he didn’t know how to wager with them, much less address the issue, he knew they played a vital part in the role of keeping you safe. He was almost jealous.

Xiao looked back at you sleeping soundly, your chest falling and rising under the blanket. Bandages were all over your body. The doctor made sure you knew the risk you had taken, traveling alone and vulnerable and enduring injuries you should have gotten checked up. You were careless and ignorant to the dangers of the world, even though, deep inside you, Xiao imagined you were just as scared as anyone else. It would be nice, right? If he could take this fear from you. Keep you safe and sound and with him at all times. He’d do you a favor.

A future without worries and fear, the dream of so many of your kind.

Stepping up to your bedside, he reached out to your forehead, remaining still as you furrowed your brows when you noticed his warmth, but then you relaxed again. Maybe you knew it was him. Maybe, deep down in your dreams, it was him who made you feel safe right now. Xiao wished he was. Still, he disappointed you, but he wouldn’t do it again. He’d make sure that you wouldn’t have to be in pain and scared anymore. For you, and only you, he’d do it.

Letting his hand slip down your face, his fingertips brushed over your cheek and to your lips, his touch lingering a second too long to be appropriate. Flinching away, he scolded himself for touching you there, pink flushing his cheeks as he shook his head. He was busy; there were preparations to be made.

Leaving behind Mora, he had no use for, and a note to the doctor, he told them to keep you as long as they could. Knowing where you were would make his life easier, even though he wouldn’t leave a stone unturned and a monster alive if he had to search for you. There were no lengths he wouldn’t have taken for you. The thought scared him because he didn’t know how to handle this feeling that burned inside of him at the mere thought of you. But it scared him even more to see you like last night, and he wasn’t sure his heart could take it if it happened again.

No, he couldn’t let it happen again.

How long had it been since someone called his name? One night. The next time you’d call for him, how would it sound? Sweet? Affectionate? Thankful? Praising him for his work and dedication for you, accepting his snide remarks, and laughing at him again with that kind voice of yours? He couldn’t know it yet. But with a jump in his step, he would have never thought it could be the complete opposite.

Angry. Scared. Horrified.

[angryschnauzer]

Castle Under The Stars

Summary: You always worry when its a full moon and your husband is away on assignment, but this full moon is different as he comes home to be with you. Will it be for good? And just how much fun can two werewolves get up to during the full moon when they have a child to look after?

A continuation of Moonlight On The Sand

Pairing: Werewolf Captain Syverson x Werewolf Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Werewolves, Breeding, Breeding Kink.

Typos are free range and organic, allowed to run wild and free. I do not operate a tag list but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll get an alert each time i post something new. Past works can also be found there.

Castle Under The Stars

You stepped out onto the back porch and propped the door open with a boot, the warm summer's breeze blowing softly at the net curtains on the kitchen windows, bringing in the scent of the roses in from the garden. Wiping your hands on your apron before hanging it on the little hook by the door, you grabbed your garden shears and flower basket, and headed out with bare feet onto the cool grass. The windows of your cabin all stood open, allowing the warm breeze to flow through the house, but also so you could hear if your little one cried from his nursery.

Quietly you stood and let the breeze push your light skirt against your legs as you carefully selected roses from the overloaded bushes. Small clouds skidded across the night sky, and for a moment you turned your face to feel the soft moonlight on your skin. The reflection of the sun's rays on its surface from orbit made your skin prickle, as if someone was pouring champagne over your limbs, but that was as far as your transformation would go, with the exception of the ring of fire in your irises.

You had been Sixteen when you had been turned. On a geology camping field trip, nature had literally callen and as you’d been in the bushes relieving yourself that’s when the lupine had got you. It took a few months to realise what had happened, and it was only when your monthly period bleed coincided with a full moon did you turn. With irregular cycles through your teens and early twenties, you probably only turned twice, maybe three times a year, but eventually you got used to it.

It had however been a bit of a shock to your new husband, Sy, when you had turned for the first time. He’d knocked you up on the first day he met you, so it took a good 11 months before your cycle had come back, two months after the birth of your precious baby boy. That first night had been a challenge; dealing with a newborn whilst both parents were howling at the moon, however you were thankful that Edith who lived in the cabin down the lane knew of these things, and upon hearing the howling had rushed over in her nightgown. 

Since then Edith had been like a surrogate mother and grandmother, as it turned out her late husband had the lupine tendencies too. Your deployment had ended whilst you were on maternity leave and you’d chosen to leave the Army entirely rather than take a desk job. Sy was special ops and in the middle of another deployment, but you had no idea when that would finish because of the nature of his assignment. Looking up at the moon you wondered where he was, hoping he was coping with the full moon and his monthly transformation. You weren’t ashamed to admit you actually really enjoyed when he was at home for a full moon; he was even more attentive and the sex was mind blowing. Standard sex with Sy left you bow legged and exhausted, but with the added power of the moon… well, it was out of this world and you’d had orgasms so strong you’d actually passed out a couple of times. 

The sounds of the occasional truck on the highway a couple of hundred feet away sporadically filled the night, and you thought about that time Sy had driven out to the lake with you and you’d spent the night fucking under the moonlight in the flatbed which he’d covered with blankets and throw pillows. You’d been seven months pregnant but good god it was some of the best sex you’d ever had. 

As you shifted to reach a particularly large rose you could feel your panties stick to you, just the thought of Sy was making you wet and ready. You wished you knew when he would be home, taking matters into your own hands wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the real thing from the man you loved.

Just then you heard a pair of owls hooting in the distance, a truck on the highway honking its horn, so you didn’t notice the sound of tyres on the long grassy driveway that ran up the hill to the cabin. Humming to yourself you were running your fingertips over the soft petals of a trailing white rose when the first hint of his scent reached you on the wind. It made you stop and doubt yourself, before it hit again and you felt the heat in the pit of your stomach bloom. Dropping the basket and shears on the grass you ran to the front of the cabin, the breeze catching at your skirts before you finally saw him, standing at the open gate to the garden, his large duffel hanging from his shoulder, the fire in his eyes as he finally saw you.

“Sy!”

He let the bag drop to the floor as you ran into his arms, launching yourself at him, your legs were wrapped around his thick waist as you kissed him. His deep laugh as you peppered his face with soft kisses, the tears of happiness rolling down your cheeks;

“I’m here Darlin’” he practically growled, and that’s when you remembered the moon.

Pulling back you looked him in the eyes, the golden ring of fire matching your own, and as he took long strides across the grass you felt the coupling connection again, just like that first night in the desert. 

He set you down on the lawn, laying you softly on the grass as he pressed open mouthed kisses down your neck. Grasping the front of your dress he let out a growl as he ripped the garment clean in two, humming his appreciation at your swollen breasts where you were still breastfeeding and soft belly, before your soaked panties met the same fate as your dress. His lips continued their path down your body, until he reached the apex of your thighs and inhaled deeply, his eyes shining bright in the moonlight before he dived in and licked a wide stripe through your soaked folds. There under the soft caress of the moon’s rays your lupine husband pulled the first of many orgasms from your body that night, surrounded by the wild calls of nature and the overwhelming scent of the roses. 

-

Sitting at the kitchen table, the morning sunlight streamed in through the windows as you flipped the pancakes on the skillet, smiling as you watched your two boys have breakfast. Michael sat in his high chair, babbling away as Sy seemingly understood every word of gibberish that came from his son’s lips. 

Sliding the pancakes onto a plate, you set it down on the table before you felt a strong arm around your waist and Sy pulled you across his lap, his massive hands smoothing over your bare thighs where all you wore were panties and his t-shirt;

“Steady there Darlin, making me want more than just pancakes for breakfast if you’re walkin’ around in just this”

Just then there was a knock at the screen door, all three of you turning to see Edith smiling and waving from the other side;

“Edith! Come in girl, been looking forward to seeing ya!” Sy called out, a huge grin on his face that got even bigger when he spied the basket she was carrying covered in a red and white checkered napkin.

You reluctantly climbed off your husband's lap, excusing yourself to quickly grab your robe as Sy and Edith talked;

“Big Sy, i knew it was your truck that rumbled past my cabin last night”

“Was indeed, home with my girl and my little man” he paused as Edith set the basket onto the table; “Those aren’t….?”

“They sure are” she pulled the napkin up and underneath were her famous peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies.

Sy quickly pulled one from the basket and snapped it in two, handing half to Michael who happily chewed on the freshly baked treat.

“Hmmmnnnn, Edith, i could get used to these”

“You staying this time Sy?”

“I sure am Edith”

“Does she know?”

“Nope, wanna surprise her later”

“Moon’ll be up again tonight, you want me to watch Mikey?”

Just then you walked into the room, catching the last of the conversation;

“Are you sure?”

Edith stood and smiled, rubbing a finger over Michael’s chubby little cheek;

“Absolutely, why don’t I drop by after he’s had his supper?”

-

Setting Edith up with everything she would need for an evening of watching Jeopardy as your son slept peacefully in his crib, you grabbed the picnic basket and blanket and gave Michael a kiss, before stepping out into the night air. Sy had already taken off, with the moon rising before sundown he got antsy, but he would meet you at the lake. He’d set everything up ready, and just told you to drive his truck down, he’d set off on foot earlier, wanting to burn some energy in the calmness of nature.

The truck's tyres crunched on the gravel as you parked up, the lake a still mirror for the pink purple skyline as the sun set behind the mountains in the distance. But none of those were what you were looking at, no, what drew your attention was your husband quietly sitting on a rock at the shoreline, his boots resting beside him as he let his feet cool in the waters. With your sandals left in the truck you walked across the soft sand before reaching the shoreline, sitting beside him as he wrapped his big arm around your shoulders.

“Sy, what are you thinking about?”

He looked at you, his smile warm as his eyes shone amber in the low light;

“Lots of things Darlin… how lucky i am to have you in my life, how i don’t think i could have coped with what happened if it hadn’t been for you”

“Oh Sy…” your eyes watered; “I love you so much”

“I love you too Darlin. You and Mikey are my world…” he paused, poignantly; “There’s something else i wanna tell ya Darlin…”

For a moment you heart sank, dreading what he was going to say;

“Sy…”

“Ya know how Walt’s construction business is expanding and he needs a new site manager?”

“What?” whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t that

“Well, i got a surprise…” he pulled you onto his lap, his hands resting on your ass; “I’m done with the Army”

“No! You’d better not be fibbing…” your eyes were full to the brim, nervous tears threatening to spill

“Not fibbing… i’m done. Wanted to keep it a surprise until i knew for sure that the assignment was completed”

Crying happy tears you wrapped your arms around your husbands shoulders, burying your face in his neck as you sobbed joyfully that he wasn’t going away again. 

When you had finally settled down and Sy had reassured you for the 10th time that it was definitely true, he was definitely staying home for good, the pair of you stood and started to walk along the shore of the lake barefoot, the warm sand beneath your feet as you clasped your hand around his.

The gentle sound of the water coupled with the feel of your skin touching his calmed Sy, even though the moon was out high above the pair of you, he didn’t feel the need to turn, the sense of utter contentment a balm on his soul. As you had rounded the lake he stumbled on a pebble, and in turn a giggle escaped your lips. Steadying himself he smirked and kicked at the water, splashing you a little as you let out a shriek at the cool water hitting your warm skin. Retaliating you splashed him a little more than you were expecting, soaking one side of his cargo shorts and he paused and looked at you with a feral smile spreading across his lips;

“Oh, now you’re in for it Darlin…”

Your legs carried you as you ran through the surf, knowing Sy would eventually catch you, yet the thrill was in the chase. You could hear his heavy footfalls gaining on you, but you had the advantage of being light on your feet and made a sharp turn into the woodland, the soft grass beneath your feet dry and coarse. You realised he wasn’t behind you and you slowed, turning to try and figure out where he went, when suddenly he emerged from the bushes, his eyes glowing amber in the darkness and he tackled you to the ground, yet somehow managed to turn your bodies so you were on top of him;

“Gotcha!”

He pulled you down so he could kiss you, turning your bodies until he was on top, shifting his knees so he could nestle between your thighs. Your skirt had rucked up in the tussle, and the harsh brush of his shorts against the soft skin of your thighs had your hips bucking up against him, eager for friction as your arousal grew. With the quick fumbling of eager hands you were both soon naked, Sy kneeling between your spread thighs to take in the sight of you, your nipples hard and your arousal a sheen between your legs. Grabbing your hips he pulled you up his thighs, your back arched and your shoulders still on the ground as he thrust into you, spearing your flesh with his own and you both let out a howl of pleasure. 

Sy couldn’t tear his gaze away from where your bodies were joined, watching each time he pulled out and saw your juices glistening on his shaft, or how your cunt stretched open as he pushed this fat dick back into you, parting your walls and you cried out in pleasure. He fucked you like the feral beast he was, claiming his mate and catching the tell tale scent that drove him wild;

“Fuck, you’re ripe… gonna breed you and give you another pup. Thought i caught the scent last night but now i know for sure… can’t wait to see your belly round and your tits even fuller…”

He drove into your fertile body, feeling you cum around him yet he pounded through your orgasm knowing your cervix would be wide open now that you had cum and ready to take his seed. You were whimpering in his grasp, desperate for more but overwhelmed at the same time; 

“Sy… please… please put a baby in me…”

“Almost… there… Darlin’...” he grunted through thrusts, before his body went rigid and he threw his head back, filling your womb with pump after pump of his thick seed, a broad smile on his face as he even held you in place knowing that gravity would help get every last drop of cum through your cervix and flood your fertile ground. 

When he had finally finished coming he carefully settled the two of you onto the soft grass, holding you tight as your bodies were still joined, knowing that he would stay hard for another two or three goes. By the time he would be finished your bodies would be battered and bruised from the intensity of your lovemaking, yet the power of the moon would ensure by morning you would be healed, no outwardly visible signs that the feral carnality of the nights pleasures left behind, even if it meant you’d be sitting down tenderly on a cushion for the following 48 hours. 

It was well into the early hours when the pair of you finally limped back to Sy’s truck, resting your head on his shoulder as he carefully drove home, the moon having set early thanks to its cycle. 

When you arrived back at the cabin Edith was having a cigarette on the porch, the baby monitor resting on the rail next to her;

“Got it outta your systems?” she grinned as she took one last drag before crushing it in a plant pot of sand that sat at the doorway. 

“For tonight” Sy smirked as he carried you bridal style up the steps of the porch; “Can we book ya for tomorrow night too?”

“Sure thing Big Sy, but you’ll owe me”

“I’ll come fix the drainpipe around your porch once the full moon has passed”

“Deal… you’re a good-un” the old woman smiled as she grabbed her keys and slid the baby monitor into your lap as you quietly snoozed in your husbands arms; “It’ll be a girl this time”

Sy’s eyes went wide;

“How do you…?”

“I just know Sweetheart… my husband wasn’t the only one that’d turn ya’know…”

Sy held you as he watched the old woman make her way down the grassy lane to her cabin;

“She’s full o’ surprises is that one…” he looked down at you and pressed a kiss to your cheek, before catching the screen door with his booted foot; “Lets get you to bed for some rest… gotta recharge for tomorrow night… maybe make it twins…”

You shifted in his grasp;

“That’s not how it works” you mumbled sleepily, a smile on your face, but the truth was neither of you knew how it worked when you were lupine… really, anything could happen.

[ajaviary]

Tell Me You’re Mine

For Henhouse-horrors @henhouse-horrors

I hope you like what I’ve written for you! I can’t thank you enough for joining my Fall in Love Event! There was a certain outdoor activity, you mentioned in your messages, that I wasn’t able to include here, but I would like to focus on it in a Part Two with these two. I hope you enjoyed what you’ve seen so far.

To Everyone else who reads this I hope you enjoy it! Feedback, likes, reblogs are always cool! Thank you for reading! If you would like to check out my other works, here is my master list.

MHA: Hitoshi Shinso x Reader

Summary: A tale of love in its purest form, Shinso reminds you that there will be no one who knows you as well as he does, you may have struggled in past relationships, but the ball is and will always be in your court. You don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not, not with him. He loves you unconditionally and you have found your forever mine.

Word Count: 3199

You shift your weight to your other foot and pivot to the side, a frown on your features as you scrutinize everything about the young woman staring back at you, you’re wondering if your clothes look right, if they fit you ok because your height is nearly six feet, it makes you feel horribly self-conscious about your looks. This isn’t the first time you wish to be more average, at least for moments like this. You let your fingers tug at the dress hem watching the way it flutters along your legs and falls exactly at the right length. The blue shade looks lovely on you and fits you in all the right ways. It’s perfect, everything is perfect...at least it should be.

‘Why am I hesitating?’

It’s a question you find yourself answering as your brows wrinkle between your eyes and your teeth sink into your lower lip. Slowly your fingers trail through your dirty blonde hair and you frown as you nearly destroy all your work, but another firm hand has curled along your wrist and is carefully removing your hand from your hair. “Careful,” he told you firmly, his amethyst eyes landing on yours over your shoulder in the mirror. Slowly your hand lowers to your side and his hold on your wrist doesn’t fade, doesn’t lesson and slowly he lets his thumb brush along the inside of your wrist, fully aware of the racing pulse of your heart. He can feel it, how could he not.

You can feel his eyes on you, the heat of his gaze was going to burn you alive. You’d averted your gaze wracking your brain for something to say to him, anything to say to his understanding tone. The way he’s looking at you, it tells you so much, how well he knows you. He knows everything about you and you know he’s far too perceptive. You take a slow breath in and he can hear the way it hitches, can feel the way your body trembles along his own.

You know you need to get it together, this was supposed to be an important night. It was very important for your work, your job. You were expected to make an appearance at least, the holidays were right around the corner and this was a work party among so many that you knew you couldn’t miss it. That wasn’t true you could miss it, but you felt obligated to go, but it was the last thing you wanted to do. It wasn’t your scene and you’re only saving grace about the whole thing, happened to be your boyfriend Hitoshi Shinso. Who had agreed to go when you’d asked him about it three weeks ago, when you had found out.

“We don’t have to go,” he offers you an out, a way of escaping a situation you truly didn’t want to be in. You were close to those you worked with, but you didn’t like the prospect of the crowds and all the new people. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it was just the people from your department, but there would be so many others there too. It was such a large event that you had been dreading it the moment you’d begun to get ready for it earlier today.

Your fingers tighten into a fist at his words, but you still haven’t spoken up, he doesn’t press you to talk. He knows you will when you’re ready, when you’ve decided how to say what is going through your mind. His other hand reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. As his fingers slowly withdraw, your other hand curls gently along his fingers and he presses his lips to your temple. “It sorta feels like I have to go,” you mutter softly with a sigh, feeling a little better, a little calmer now.

He leans his cheek against yours and rests his chin on your shoulder as his other hand curls along your waist and settles on your hip, the touch is possessive, but there is nothing truly sexual about it. You both are affectionate people and physical contact was just one of the many ways you two communicate. This was also a testament to just how close you are with each other. “If you’re not comfortable, we’ll stay in. Besides, we have plans bright and early tomorrow.” Even with his breath tickling your ear with every word he said, his gaze had not once left your own through the reflection of the mirror.

Shinsou feels you lean back against him and he only tightens his hold as your fingers trail through his hair. He gives a soft huff of sound and patiently waits for you to decide on the course of action for this evening. “Do you want to go though?” he asks softly, he might have been dressed in a pair of black slacks, dress shoes, and a royal purple dress shirt with a black vest and the sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms. None of that mattered though, he could easily ditch the whole outfit for a pair of comfy sweats and lounging on the couch with you watching movies and cuddling under a blanket. That sounded like a far better way of spending your time together in his opinion. He’d do this for you though, if it was what you wanted.

“Not really,” you admit softly. The dress wasn’t you, you were trying too hard to impress others and it wasn’t at all what you were comfortable in, what you would normally wear. Who were you to be someone you weren’t? It wasn’t worth all the stress and anxiety anyway. You wouldn’t have been there for longer than twenty minutes before you would be wanting to get out of there.

The way his fingers trail over the black stem of one of the flowers on your upper arm and follow it further to your shoulder, his fingers brushing your long hair out of his way as he moves to let his fingers slide the zipper of your dress down slowly. Allowing his lips to press against the shell of your ear. “Let’s stay in,” he suggests softly, his voice a low, hush of sound that does all sorts of things to you. His fingers ghost along the gray petals along your back and as the fabric parts along your shoulders as the zipper stops at the middle of the dress.

It parts falling along your upper arms and when you don’t object to his attention, he continues to help the material from your shoulders, down each arm. His touch lights a fire, and your pulse races; he can see the way it hammers along your neck, can see the way color blossoms along your cheeks. The low chuckle against your ear makes you shiver, and finally, the material pools along your bare feet. He hasn’t touched you in any obscene places; he’s been very good with your boundaries.

He cups your cheeks in his hands as you twist in his personal space, your eyes searching his own, seeking some sort of validation that you had made the right choice. Your hands press against his chest, curl into the dark fabric of his dress shirt, the material wrinkles, but none of that matters. He gives you that half little smile that quirks up one side of his mouth. He’s bolder with you, more than anyone else. His thumbs brush along your cheeks as he waits you out, letting you have all the control in whatever happens next. As long as he’s with you that’s all that matters, he doesn’t need the glitz and the glam, just you as you are. Your smile as your lips meet his own is all that he needs.

The kiss is lazy as one arm curls along your waist to draw you closer to him, the other carefully begins to pull out each and every pin from your hair, before sliding along the end to begin the careful process of undoing all your hard work leaving your hair in long wavy strands along your back. He sucks down your laughter as you hook your leg with his as his knees brush the edge of the bed. His breath leaves in a woosh of sound as his back hits the mattress. You’ve broken the kiss now your laughter filling the room as you press your hand against his chest staring down into his violet eyes, his hand stretched out the pins safely contained in his fist, your hand on his wrist “I’ve got you now,” your boastful and proud as you smile down at him through the brightly lit room.

“So you do,” he says as he stretches out on your bed not at all complaining with your weight on top of him. He is proud of you, he’d been teaching you a little self defense since you two had started dating a few months ago. Your relationship was comfortable and it wasn’t just about sex, there was a level of respect, comfort and ease you hadn’t had in your past relationships like you did now...like you did with him. You loved him, but you hadn’t said it, infact neither one of you had dropped the L word, but you often lazed around together, not always naked, but often in comfy clothes, the more carnival pleasures didn't define your relationship. You both were home bodies and generally enjoyed hanging out together, you didn’t have to be doing the same thing either, sometimes you were reading and he was playing a video game with his friends and it was just real.

Shinso loved being close to you. He was very much in love with you. You didn’t try to change him or demand all his time. You thought his friends were funny and he was thankful you got along with them, that they generally liked you and you felt the same. There was no awkwardness, it was as though you had fit right in with them after you got comfortable with them. It hadn’t taken long for you to integrate with them. To fall into their circle. It was easy, relaxed, there was no special standard to live up to, no remarks that hid jealousy or half truths.

His last relationship had been nothing like that, it had been a horribly one sided give in his relationship, he had kept giving and giving, and there was no equality to how much she had taken and taken from him. Everything he had given was never enough. His friends were never good enough, and he’d struggled to see how far he was losing himself, until one day he had just had enough and left.

He’d taken time away from the dating scene to get his head on straight, to find himself, to find the pieces he had lost.

You two had met at a college party, it was your last wild night with a few of your friends before everything would change. The girls had dragged out to have some fun before everyone would go their separate ways in life. He had only been invited by Izuku, who was in his last semester too, but Shinso had graduated last year.

It had felt weird to be back after being out of the college scene for so long. He had a job in his field and things couldn’t have been going any better for him. He’d dated here and there but he was more careful now, of who he let get close to him. A one night stand was one thing, but getting tied down again wasn’t on his radar. He was content to just work for a little while and have someone warm his bed or chase a night of passion together and be gone in the morning.

He’d been ready to continue that routine, but then…then he’d met you.

It was an accident really, that he’d even found you in a crowded house party like this. Izuku had disappeared into the kitchen leaving him to linger awkwardly in the crowd of groups who were already in their own conversations. It was at that moment that he remembered why he didn’t like these parties. He wasn’t the type to put himself out there like that. He usually stuck with his friends but Izuku had dragged him here early and the others weren’t here yet.

He started to move to the kitchen but stopped himself, he wasn’t about to follow his buddy as though he was a lost puppy, he wasn’t that clingy. He could manage a few minutes alone. When had he gotten to where he hated most social settings? He never used to be this anti-social.

You were talking with one of your girlfriends, he could still remember the sound of your voice as it drowned out the rest of the party when he’d heard you. You were holding a drink high over your head telling her that she didn’t need to get drunk to get over her shitty ex boyfriend. The shorter brunette made a jumping grab for her drink and you had smoothly side stepped her, perfectly avoiding her, but not him as you collided. He reacted without thinking. His left arm curled along her waist, pressing along your stomach, and his right hand encircled your wrist, no longer in danger of dropping the wine glass or spilling the contents on either one of you.

“Oh my god,” you let the words fall from your lips as you’d felt yourself collide with a body that didn’t give an inch when you’d collided with him. “Careful,” he said, keeping his voice even, as his eyes assessed everything about you when you’d nearly fallen in his lap. His eyes stayed on your own as you’d turned to stare at him, expecting so many things, but it wasn’t for the man standing before you to be taller than you, for your body to tuck so perfectly against his own, even in this very public setting.

His voice caused a shiver to travel through you as you carefully extracted yourself from his hold. “I’m so sorry,” you jump in quickly to apologize, but he only waves away your apology with a small quirk of his lips. “No harm done.” Was his honest answer. He’s just trying to come up with a reason for asking your name, but he doesn’t have too, not when Izuku draws the shorter girl in for a side arm hug and quick to greet you by name. It would seem that Izuku knew literally everyone, there wasn't a time they couldn’t go out, even to the most obscene places that the charismatic young man was spotted by so many. He was definitely the type of person who didn’t meet a stranger.

Izuku was also kind enough to introduce you two to each other. He could still remember the way your hand had fit into his own.

Your lips pressed against his ear as you had begun to unbutton his dress shirt, your legs easily on either side of his hips, even completely vulnerable as you were, you felt powerful, wanted, loved. He made you feel those things and so much more. The respect he had for you, was more than you could ever ask for, your physical, emotional and mental connection was something others would never truly have. “Where did you go?” you ask softly as you watch his gaze take a moment to track you as you pull the tails of his dress shirt out of his black pants, the fancy material parted along his flesh exposing his skin to the lowlights of the room and your ever seeking touch. There was nothing sexual in your movements, not right now at least.

“Do you remember how we met?” he asked you softly as his arms curl around you suddenly rolling you so you're spooned against his chest, his body heat seeping into your own. “Yeah, that was almost the worst day of my life. I almost spilled Ochako’s wine all over you. I was so focused on her, that I somehow didn’t see you. I’d have been absolutely mortified had that wine spilled on you,” you admitted as your fingers brushed over a scar on his index finger, something he’d gotten when he’d been chopping vegetables with his mother one evening during dinner, when he’d been thirteen.

“I’d love you as much as I do now, even if you had spilled that wine all over me.” You feel his whole body tense as those words hang in the air between you both, it was clear he hadn’t exactly been meaning for those words to fall so casually. You lace your fingers with his and realize you have to try a little harder than normal as he’s debating on a way to take back the words that he’s said. He’s just about to apologize before your fingers are dancing up his sides hitting the ticklish spots he’d done his best to keep hidden from you, but you’d found them the first week you had been dating and had greatly enjoyed hearing him laugh. That wasn’t the only sound you enjoyed coaxing out of him.

You lock your leg with his and roll with him as he tries to escape from you and from the situation. Your arms lock around his neck and he’s stilled completely with his back on your bed, not moving an inch for the likelihood of accidentally hurting you. “Wait,” the single word has his gaze shifting slowly back to yours. “It’s ok…I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way or –” It's your turn to let your gaze drift away from his own and his hand finds your cheek. “Or?” he promotes softly, feeling the way his heart is pounding in his chest. Could it really be possible that you feel the same?

With a slow breath in, you let your gaze clash with his, finding your resolve. “If it was just me…if I was the only one in love with you.” No sooner had those words left your lips than were his own claiming yours, his hands smoothing over your side, before one of his hands found your own as your fingers laced together with his.

[writing-in-april]

Dressed in Crimson

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Royalty AU)

Summary: Spencer is a stable boy with a passion for learning and Reader is the princess of the palace that he serves in. They’ve been in a secret relationship, the two grow restless about not being able to be out in the open.

A/N: Guys I’m so excited for this one I really really loved writing it- it’s my fourth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April and it’s also written for @omgbigfluffwriting !!! I kinda immersed myself into this quite a bit- and it’s my longest oneshot I’ve ever written 🤭The specific historical period theyre in is not specified and the world that they’re in is entirely fictional and not based on any specific point in history- if you’ve ever watched Merlin that’s kinda the vibe I was thinking of just without the magic lol (please still ignore that the gif does not have an accurate clothing choice from Spencer I just wanted a good shot of his hair that I thought of while writing this) i feel like it’s becoming so obvious how much I love historical fiction lol 😂 I’d like to hear from you guys also so if you want to drop me an ask here! It can be about anything 🥰 hope y’all enjoy!!!

Warnings: 18+, Reader has a horrible Father, subtle hints about sexism, Classism, Period typical clothing, Reader and Spencer fight for a little bit, Smut, Dom Spencer, Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Day dreaming about fucking in public, Spencer’s possessive as hell, Ignoring the potential consequences of a creampie

Main Masterlist Word count: 4.7k

My day started out like any other with my corset made of whalebone being cinched tightly around my figure with my chemise underneath of course. Every time the ends of the laces were pulled taught on my body I thought of the days where I could get away with not having this wretched piece of clothing cutting off my breath. Those days had been so long ago, when I was just a small child, almost so long ago that I had to strain my memory to recall it. It wasn’t even until I was done clutching my mother’s skirts before I started to be forced into the confines of the worst invention in history. I would have rather muck in the mud in pants like the men, unless there was a reason for me to actually want to wear a dress.

Today, I had chosen a crimson colored gown, one of my only favorites. The front of the bodice was adorned with embroidery, one embroidered with a glistening gold thread. The sleeves were long and ever so slightly off my shoulders, ending just at my wrist. It had been perfectly handcrafted just for me, a seamstress being hired to slave away at each detail with precision. If it had been up to my father the seamstress would have been paid little to nothing for this masterpiece, but you had your own coins stashed away from your allowance to give extra to anyone that gave you goods and services.

The dress was my favorite almost solely because of someone else’s appreciation for the lush fabric, no one needed to know about that though. I did like to look nice on certain occasions, but only special ones. There was no special occasion scheduled for me to have a reason for wearing it, well none that the greater majority of the court would know about.

Only my maid Emily knew what my excursion would be today, why I dressed up so nicely. There was no feasible way for me to hide my dalliances from her, especially the one I was about to go to as it required some higher levels of stealth to be able to evade my father’s guards.

His name was Spencer, one of my father’s stable boys. I loved him more than anything, definitely more than any potential match that was arranged for me.

I gifted him whatever I could without raising suspicion, though I often hid my purchases if someone asked by excusing them as more frivolous in nature, such as a new dress. Spencer had no real need for pretty things as he’d said before, except from myself- those were his past words not mine. And, he did express to me how much he loved the dress I was wearing right now, which was tied to how we had first met.

When I first met him I had been looking for a fabric in the market stalls. I hadn’t really wanted to, I was content with all the dresses that I owned right now, they had no ornament on them, just how I preferred. However, my father demanded I get something fancier for some sort of frivolous ball that was coming up that undoubtedly had no reason to take place besides bleeding everyone else dry.

I brushed hands with him for the first time as I was looking for the material I wanted, something just fancy enough to appease my father. The stall filled with fabrics bordered one that had stacks of books, I would have much preferred to be looking at that one. My hand had gotten close to the edge while I was inspecting a fabric and it had bumped into a man who was looking at one of the books.

When I had looked up to see who had brushed my hand I was met with frantic eyes filled with apology. His stuttered apology had covered my attempt to assure him that it was fine, it had taken me grabbing both of his hands to steady him for him to listen to my reassurance.

When he had introduced himself to me after I asked it flowed into a long conversation. I could have talked to him forever, I would be content to never talk to anyone else. For a stable boy he was exceptionally smart, which I learned was from his mother who had made sure he was educated even in poverty, specifically through having him read anything she could get her hands on. From then on our blossoming friendship had flourished, and had eventually developed into more.

I slung a shawl over my shoulders made out of a fabric of similar color to my gown and also grabbed a purse filled with coins with a smile due to my reminiscing . It wasn’t cold enough for one of my velvet cloaks just yet and most of the walk down to where Spencer was housed was indoors.

The walk from my rooms in the main part of the castle to the stables on the lower floor towards the East end was longer than I would have wanted. Truthfully, I wished I would not have to live in a castle at all, I’d rather live in the small house that Spencer lived. It was just past the castle grounds at the edge of the surrounding village adjacent to the stables so he did not have to walk far for work in the mornings.

My feet tiptoed down the corridors carefully, I was lucky that I had figured out to be somewhat light on my feet otherwise I’d be caught swiftly for sure. I passed by the rooms of most of the lords and ladies staying at court, I always wondered why some chose to stay here, it was positively suffocating here. The door I used to go outside was through the kitchen, that had a myriad of breakable things strewn about that I had to stealthily avoid. Luckily, I knocked nothing over that would have woken up the cooks who slept just a room over. Turning the handle of the door had to be a slow process so no one would hear the creak of the knob while it was turned, but I did successfully make it out with no disturbance.

Beginning the stretch of my journey that was outdoors was perhaps the most risky. Guards were stationed around the perimeter of the castle in greater numbers compared to the ones indoors which were only stationed by important rooms. I weaved my way through, in some aspects it was even more confusing than the inside of the castle. Hiding behind each of the pillars was the most effective way to avoid them, the construction of them making a series of small blind spots. I had just snuck behind one of the last ones when one of the guards nearest to me moved forward a little. I stopped breathing immediately, holding it tight in my chest while I plastered myself as close as I could to the back of the pillar. My nails dug into the stone of the pillar in fear, if I was ever to be found sneaking out at night or worse in the presence of Spencer, I would either never leave my rooms again or be whisked away into marriage even earlier than planned.

When the guard did not move to investigate further I let go of the breath I was holding, still making sure to let go of it slowly so he could not hear me. Moving swiftly forward after I had taken a breath was a bit of a challenge, my knees had gone weak with fear. I pushed myself to take each step even with the weakness in my knees, there was no way I could linger any longer.

Finally I was no longer walking on stone, I was walking on the muddy earth now. It was nice to feel the ground under my feet instead of the harsh stone, it told me that I was now only a handful of strides away from Spencer’s home.

The leaves littering the ground mixing with mud crunched under my feet even as I tip toed carefully. The guards may be in the distance now, but I didn’t feel keen on testing how good their hearing may potentially be.

Passing the stables was the last marker for my journey, then I would be able to see his home too. As I passed the sleeping horses by anticipation began to replace the fear inside me. It had been a while since I had been able to come see him, making me yearn for his touch even more.

His home came into view, even in the dead of night I could make it out if I squinted my eyes hard. My pace picked up exponentially when I landed my eyes on his humble abode. It was a quaint home, fallen into disrepair as he could not afford to fix it on the meager salary that my father paid him. The purse of gold that I had brought with me was exactly for that, the repairs. He would most likely protest the gift just like any other thing I had tried to gift him. From my experience the most effective way to get him to accept anything was to leave it there with no conversation about it. I think it made him feel less guilty even though in my opinion he was owed the money in the first place, no one should have to live in squalor when they did their job every day without question or complaint.

When I finally was at the entrance of his home I entered through the door swiftly, too impatient to wait or knock. Stress melted from my shoulders when I caught sight of him, hunched over one of the books I had given him, candles strewn around to give him enough light to read.

The candles he had lit to be able to read in the night illuminated us both with a glow. He would always compliment me whenever we found ourselves in similar lighting such as this, but in my opinion there was no rivalry. Each time the candle flickered it brightened up every highlight of him, letting me see his wild curls, brown eyes deeper than any others I had ever seen, and a body that I had no doubt was crafted to perfection illuminated in a beautiful glow.

I went to compliment him just as he always did with me, but I became mesmerized when he stood up, then moving his way closer to me.

“It is nice to see you, it feels like it’s been an eternity.” It may seem dramatic for him to say that it felt that long, but I echoed his sentiment willingly.

“It is nice to see you too, Spencer. I agree it’s been far too long.” I was sure it had been at least a full moon cycle since we had the pleasure of being alone with one another, our duties to my father keeping us separated.

It had been painful whenever I would go out for a ride on my horse, to see him hand me the reins of my mare and be unable to reach out to touch him. There had been one day, about a week ago, that I had let my hand brush against his own for a moment while he handed the reins to me. It was an innocent brush of a touch, that also had a barrier in the form of my leather gloves. To anyone else it had meant nothing, but to me and him, it meant everything.

His eyes were blown wide with desire, as I suspected mine were as well. We let ourselves take in the sight of each other for a minute longer before Spencer broke the silence with a request,

“Drop your shawl, so I may see you better.” A stable hand commanding someone of such a stature such as I would’ve seen him whipped if it was any other person before him. His boldness was not unexpected, it had taken a while for him to grow so comfortable with my company. In truth, he had been quite scared when I had first met him. It was perfectly understandable considering his employer was my father, who was not known for his kindness. And, even then after his fear had faded he still had a shy exterior for a while, it only had been lifted when we began to become extremely comfortable around each other. We were each other's only form of solace in this world, we could only escape our reality when we were together.

Instead of having malice in my voice like other nobles would I simply pulled the shawl more taught around my shoulders and teased, “Why should I?”

The expression on his face was one of the ones I loved seeing on his face the most, a sly smirk. He came closer to me, with careful steps as if he was waiting for the right moment to pounce. We were so close together when he stopped moving, but still not touching. He was playing a game with me, not touching until I obliged him. As he leaned in to speak into the shell of my ear he was careful with the way he tilted his body forward so I could only feel his breath on the small portion of my skin, “Because you like it when I look at you.”

My arms fell to my sides releasing my shawl to fall from my shoulders onto the floor at his words, as they rang true. I did want him to look at me and also, of course touch me.

“You wore your favorite dress.” He observed, still not quite touching. I didn't need to answer the statement he made with the thought in my mind ‘I wore it for you’ because I knew he had already figured that out. His observational skills were keenly honed in by his constant reading whenever he had the chance, often reading books that I had gifted to him. He even sometimes read well into the night, straining his eyes in the darkness when the candle was almost merely a wick. I had found that out the first- and sadly, only time I had the opportunity to stay overnight. Since then I had pushed him to get more rest as I knew how hard he was worked to the bone during the day, courtesy of my father.

His eyes were staring at my dress, pupils blown wide, his mind seemingly off in another world maybe thinking about all the things he wanted to do to me.

“Please, touch me.” I didn’t need to speak loud, only a soft whisper for him to hear me because of how close he already was to me. So close, yet so far.

He raised his large hands, calloused from working so hard day in and day out. My own hands were soft from the expensive creams I had been pampered with since I was just a small child. I liked his hands better, they showed the hard work he used everyday to cultivate his beautiful mind and body.

I subtly licked my lips in anticipation of his touch, wanting to feel every inch of his hand roaming my body, from the tips of his fingers to where his palm met his wrist.

His fingers then started to trace over the top of my corset, just a hair away from touching the swell of my breasts. My chest was rising and falling with each breath, each inhale pushing it slightly closer to his fingers. With each fall of my chest I felt the need to quickly let go of my breath, so I could once again inhale and be brought closer to his touch.

“Please touch me.” I repeated, breathless from forcing myself to breathe into his touch.

“I am touching you.” His fingers still did not move to touch my skin, only the crimson accented in gold. It was his turn to tease me now, I was at his mercy, ready and waiting for it.

I could beg again, though quite obviously I could not convince him with it. As he was running his fingers over the cloth for what felt like the millionth time, still not touching me, I teased him back instead of begging, “No you are touching my dress.”

A mere ghost of a touch from his fingers then floated across my skin. What should have calmed my heaving chest from my gasping breaths only served to make my breathing even heavier. The slight touch was still not enough, only making my desire for his hands to roam every inch of my body even more severe.

“Perhaps I should take your corset off, to help you breathe better.” He said, as if he read my exact thoughts.

“I like your thinking.”

I was then spun around so my back was pressed into his chest. It soothes my desire for his touch some, but we both had barriers of cloth preventing me from fully feeling him. I could feel some of the warmth that was hidden underneath his shirt, which was made up of a much billowing white linen that compared to his trousers.

If my skirts were not so large I wondered if I were to push back if my behind would come in contact with his cock and whether or not his desire would be as prominent as the slickness dampening the bottom layer I was wearing. I’d have to find a way to find a pair of trousers then, sometime soon, so I could try to grind into him at a later date. There was no doubt that we’d surely find ourselves in a similar position again.

As his hands started to undo the laces of my corset with care, despite both of our desperation, a thought slipped out from his lips that I’m sure he intended to keep to himself, “I wish I could call you mine in public.”

“My father would kill you!” The taste of my voice would have been bitter in anyone’s mouth, quickly spat out in the same way I said those words. Perhaps my quick anger to his innocent thought would be insane to some, most would probably consider it a sweet thought. However, he knew from previous conversations that when those sweet thoughts were expressed that all I could feel was a heavy sadness sitting inside me, instead of desire.

Tears clouded my vision, so much so that I did not see Spencer’s arms come around me to envelop me in an embrace. I flinched a bit at first, but then melted when I realized it was him. We held each other for a while as I sobbed softly into his billowy white shirt.

He stroked my shoulder with his large hands that I loved, but the corset he had not taken off fully yet was blocking me from feeling his touch the way I wanted.

“Take it off please.” I begged softly, I wanted to feel his skin on mine, and not just his lips or his hands. I wanted to feel every inch of him.

The laces of my corset were already half undone because of his previous attempt at getting it off of me. He finished the job, pulling the corset off of my body, tossing it down to the floor. He may have loved the dress, but he was showing me through his actions that he loved what was underneath more.

Turning me around was his next step, so he could properly kiss me. The pressure was soft at first, as if he was testing the waters to see how I would feel. Feeling his soft lips on my own just made me want to pull him in further, and I did so. My fingers tangled into his curls as the kiss devolved into pure passion, we were both throwing ourselves fully into it, trying to express our feelings nonverbally.

His own hands moved to cup my breasts as he backed me into the cot he slept on every night. I did not let him push me down on the bed so he was on top of me like normal, this time I wanted to be on top for a while. When I straddled his hips the first thing I felt was his cock straining in his pants. I unbuckled them so I could wrap my hands around his cock, I wanted to feel his thick and heavy length in my hands. Precum was already dripping down his hard cock as I pumped his length with my hands. My own arousal was dampening the underneath of the skirt I still had on. Spencer confirmed it himself when he snuck his fingers underneath the fabric to play with my pleasure spots. We both groaned as his fingers entered inside me while he rubbed circles into my swollen pearl.

My skirt was bunched up in his hands, pulling up all the way to the tops of my thighs. He soon got fed up with the skirt being in the way though and maneuvered me to shuck it off of me as fast as possible. Being bare before him did not make me wither in self consciousness, it made me lean into his touch even more.

He leaned up to kiss me again while I grabbed his length and restraddled him. I was definitely wet enough to have him enter me, my separation from him making me desperate, it had been so long since we had the chance to be together like this.

I then sunk down on his length slowly, it was for me to adjust to his size and to relish in the feeling of him sliding inside me. I stilled on top of him as the back of my thighs hit the top of his, he filled me with perfection. Spencer only let me be still for a little while before his hands gripped my hips and started to guide me to roll my hips. The pace I set- well Spencer was the one who set it, was slow and deep, I was languidly rolling my hips while he thrusted up into me at a similar pace.

My face twisted in pleasure as his thrusts became more powerful, still at the same pace but with more force behind them.

“Fuck- I want everyone to know that you’re mine!” It was the exact same thing he had spoken to me earlier that had sparked anger and melancholy inside me. This time it caused a spark of pleasure instead, making me think about him fucking me in front of everyone claiming me as his.

“My father would kill you.” This time when I said it it was gasped into his mouth with little to all anger disappeared from it.

My words made Spencer growl which was swallowed by a possessive kiss. He then flipped me over roughly, my back now pressed into the cot. A high pitched squeak had escaped my lips unintentionally in surprise, it was quickly changed into a moan when he entered me again. This time the pace did not start off slow as I did not need to adjust to him inside of me.

“I don’t care.” His speech was agitated as he pounded into me, holding my legs open with both hands spreading me out for him to see everything, “No matter what anyone says or does, you’re mine.”

Pleasure sparked through me at his possessive words, I grabbed desperately at the cotton sheets trying to hold onto something as my finish was fast approaching. When the cotton sheets were not enough of a stabilizer for me I lifted my hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him close.

“Come on I know you’re close, I’m close too baby.” My nails dug into his neck and back during the latter half of his sentence causing him to slightly wince. I knew he enjoyed it though because of the question that he groaned out next, “Can I cum inside you?”

Biting my lip hard was painful as I nodded my head in response to his question that had me falling over the edge. The consequences of him finishing inside me danced in the back of my head, I chose to ignore them as he did. I did not care as he filled me and I rode out my release, even if I was to somehow get pregnant because of our recklessness it did not matter. I’d gladly have his child, even if it meant I’d have to go on the run.

Instead of falling on top of me directly after finishing like I’ve heard most men do with their wives he gently removed himself from my entrance and laid down beside me on the cot. Bliss was mingling in the air between us, both unburdened by any of our problems that would become a reality as soon as I left for the night. For now we would just hold onto the bliss until it was cruelly snatched away from reality.

Spencer had a solution as always to our problems, and seemed to be thinking about the same thing I was with his next suggestion,

“Run away with me.” We were both covered in sweat that had cropped up from our activities, a contrast to the chilly air outside and in the castle. It was nice to feel warm every time I was in his arms, It was hard to resist being greedy and deciding to stay in his arms forever. It had crossed my mind more than once, but there was always something stopping me from going through with it fully. I opened my mouth to point out all the reasons why that would not be possible when he added, “And, before you say no I want to ask- what’s stopping you?”

His reasoning was sound, as it often was. My mouth opened and closed, struggling to find a reasoning before I accepted that he was right. The only potential downfall was my father’s forces searching everywhere to find me, but it would be worth it. We could also easily cross the border into nearby lands ruled by someone else that was not in alliance with him. I already felt lighter thinking about being free from the confines of the castle- and hopefully my corset. Though I would have to keep the crimson dress I wore today, even if I only wore it around him, It was his favorite and it symbolized the day that we met. He glanced over at me just as I did the same, looking right into his eyes as I spoke,“Alright.”

The light that sparked in his eyes made my heart soar, I could feel just from his gaze how ecstatic he was to spend his life with me. I didn’t need any words to know how much he loved me.

We basked for a moment in the presence of our love, Spencer broke the silence again when he started planning,“You need to go pack!”

I moved myself to sit up even though my limbs protested, wanting to sleep after our post coital bliss. A soft smile was exchanged between the two of us, “I’ll pack light, only the stuff I need.”

The purse of gold I had brought for him would no longer be used to fund his repairs, but to fund our life together. I climbed on top of him again leaning forward to capture him in a kiss that was much more chaste than the ones earlier in the night.

“I. love. you.” He whispered in between kisses making my eyes wet with tears. They weren’t born out of sadness, but of happiness that I had someone to love me as much as Spencer did.

“I love you too, I will see you soon.” I pulled myself away from his lips even though I did not want to, I then got up to leave reluctantly. Though it was easier than previous departures as I knew that it would be the last one that I would have to complete. My whole being was lighter and happier than I had ever felt before as I snuck back with a spring in my step. The only hint of what I was about to do, where I was about to go, was the mud stained at the hemline of my crimson dress.

Ask me anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (why wont tumblr let me tag you😭

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump