#and i need to apply for my masters soon soon soon

[hairtusk]

I'm one more minor inconvenience away from an actual, fully-fledged nervous breakdown

[htonl-writes]

i've been thinking about what my problem is with epithets, because i definitely have a problem with them, which is why i basically never use them. an epithet, if you don't know the fancy words we use to refer to other words, is basically a descriptor that's used as a stand-in for a name or pronoun. the classic fandom example is "the bluenette", although maybe that was more widespread ten years ago. or maybe i just read different fic now.

anyway, my problem with epithets comes down to how i think of POV writing. i write almost exclusively in limited third person, which means i use names and pronouns and descriptors like we're all just standing there watching what's happening like a movie, but i pick on character to be the POV character and describe them from the inside - how their own body feels rather than how it looks, what they notice about the world around them rather than what's actually there - and i don't use any information in narration that they don't have.

that bit about describing what the POV character notices about the world rather than what's actually there is where this comes from. when i write in limited third person, i think of it as giving the reader a glimpse into the POV character's thoughts, just phrased in a slightly more viewer-friendly manner. if the POV character doesn't actually think of another character in a specific way, then i don't use it as an epithet. it actually breaks my immersion when other authors don't follow this rule - i have a way of turning my analytical writer brain off when i'm reading so i can enjoy it regardless of how skilled the author is, but some things i can't turn off, like noticing misspellings or accidental usage of the wrong word, and epithets. apparently.

using star wars as an example, and i promise i'm not vagueing any author or fic in particular: if a jedi who's known obi-wan all his life is talking to him, and the narration is using limited third person with the other jedi as the POV character, the use of epithets like "the red-haired man" or "the shorter man" jars me out of the story. epithets that describe physical traits can be useful to the reader, but if it isn't the first time the characters are meeting, they're unlikely to be focused on each other's appearance. in the above scenario, i might use epithets like "the youngster" (since this jedi is older than obi-wan and knew him when he was little), "the [jedi] master" (since this jedi is likely either proud or jealous of obi-wan's accomplishment in becoming a master at such a young age), or "the general" (i'm sure all the jedi have feelings about becoming generals).

but like i said, i mostly don't use epithets at all. the narrative purpose i use them for is different than what i think most people use them for - that is to say, distinguishing between who's saying/doing what in a scene, without overuse of names or pronouns. i get where people are coming from with this, but i actually don't think it's possible to overuse names and pronouns. i mean, it's definitely possible to overuse pronouns alone, causing your readers to lose track of who's doing what; but pronouns combined with names, i don't think you can overuse. it's just like the word "said", as opposed to other dialogue tags - it communicates the minimum amount of information, and it's usually "invisible" to the readers, in that they absorb the information it contains and move on without paying any more attention to it. pronouns and names do the same, and readers also tend to kind of skip over them in favor of the more interesting parts of the sentence.

instead, i use epithets to communicate something about the POV character, and about the character they're interacting with. how does the POV character think about the character they're interacting with? are they affectionate? derogatory? creepily attentive? respectful? do they not even see this person as a person, but instead as a piece of moving furniture? and the subject of the epithet - how are they acting? is there an unusual element to their appearance? in that same scenario from earlier, the other jedi might use the epithet "youngster" for obi-wan if the context of the interaction is the jedi temple and obi-wan is relaxed and smiling, but they might use the epithet "general" instead if the context is a battle and obi-wan is giving orders and adjusting his armor.

it's a really small thing, on the whole, how an author uses epithets. i really, genuinely do not hold it against a fanfic author if they're using epithets in a way i don't agree with; maybe they're less skilled at writing than me, or they have less experience, or they're more experienced and better than me and they're going for a specific effect. i am so serious about fanfic being a space for people to explore without judgement, no matter if they're exploring a story or world, an emotion or trauma, or something else entirely. i just. i just have Opinions. about writing. because i'm a writer. it happens.

[mihai-florescu]

You dont know what to major in? Can i recommend you the foolproof mihai method of just flipping a coin?

[youryanderedaddy]

When Life Gives Lemons

tw: female reader, technically non con because of stealthing, baby trapping, breeding, obsessive behavior, reader being a bit rude

You couldn’t believe the irony of your life. You were about to break up with your immature boyfriend, and he still managed to be grossly late to the date, unconsciously digging his own grave deeper. You had put on your best white shirt and the tightest skirt you owned, and you even went through the trouble of booking the latest hipster coffee shop close to the centre. He had been fifteen minutes late, to be exact, and when you brought it up, he simply shrugged a long sleazy smile, dragging his skeleton - shaped metal rings against the edge of the table.

“All in due time, princess.” He took a sip off his coffee - a single shot of espresso with no creamer, as always. “All in due time.” He repeated, reaching in his pocket for a pack of off - brand cigarettes. He really couldn’t afford any of the fancy ones. Once the cigarette was lit, he slowly brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply, letting his head relax against the chair. His thick neck tightened as he swallowed the deadly smoke, and even the sun seemed to avoid his messy dark locks, instead keeping the man in the shadows.

“What does that even mean?” You threw your hands around helplessly, sinking into your chair. “Don’t you want to know?” Axel teased, taking another puff. Although his expression was one of mild amusement, his sharp blue eyes were carefully following your every movement - wondering what will tip you off the most. “You know, you’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad, mami.” He smiled in a playful boyish way that once would have made you melt, but now only served as a reminder of his unserious nature.

“Stop playing around. I need to discuss something imp–”

“Shhh, don’t talk, babygirl. I need to show you something.” Axel interrupted, gripping the big guitar closer to his lap. ”I wrote you a song.” His thin fingers grazed the delicate transparent strings, forcing a catchy, although not fully polished melody out of the old thing. He took a deep breath, wetting his lips so the lyrics would come out softer. 

My girl knows how to set me

on flames she goes through 

the motions of the wind she

is a fireball, a fireball, on fire

“What the fuck, Axy.” You pounded your fists at the table, shaking the glasses and spilling coffee all over the wooden surface. You could feel everyone’s judging stare across your back, all of the other patrons were jeering and whispering about the two of you, and your cheeks were heating up by the moment. “I’ve told you countless times to stop writing those shitty songs. They don’t even rhyme, for fuck sake.” You whined, suddenly overwhelmed by helplessness. He was never going to change, was he? “This is exactly why I want to break up.”

The music stopped entirely. His dark sunglasses ended on the ground. 

“You wanna break up?” The musician repeated slowly, suddenly appearing awfully composed - so composed it made you look crazy. After that question he remained silent for a very long time, taking long drags off his cigarette while studying your face for any sign of your true feelings bleeding out. “Real’ funny, babe, real’ fun joke.” He forced a crooked smile, reaching in to squeeze your hand all the way through the table. “Now tell me, what’s wrong with the song? I stayed real’ late to compose it just for our date today.” He winked, which only made you feel worse.

“I am being serious, Axel. Let go of me.” Your tone turned icy and your ex boyfriend quickly released you, eyes filling with raw fear. “Wait, baby, we can talk about–”

“There is nothing to talk about. You’re such a child!” You blurted out, too frustrated to spare energy on fluttery words and sweet apologies. “I want to do my masters soon. You know I’m applying to Metwyorth - I can’t be seen hanging around with a high school dropout who does Saturday gigs for a living.” You continued, pursing your lips together. You knew you were being harsh, cruel even, but this was the only way to push him away. The musician could be awfully clingy, so you needed to be firm.

“A highschool dropout who made you scream your brains out.” Axel responded bitterly through clenched teeth, eyes growing dark with anger. You shook your head bashfully, avoiding his fiery gaze. “Sure, we had our fun,” You gestured vaguely at nothing in particular, trying to hide the shame blossoming on your sides. “But it’s time to wake up. I mean, be realistic. We live in different worlds.” You began to collect your things quickly, standing up to leave.

“Y/N!” He called out to you, causing you to turn back just for a second - you owed him that much for all the good memories you knew you both would have trouble forgetting. “You’re making a mistake. Please, think it through.” The man took a hold of your hand, caressing your fingers gently. “I know I can’t offer you much right now, but I really love you!” His eyes dilated, honest and clear like an untouched sea on a quiet day. 

“Goodbye, Axel.”

***

You meet him sooner that you’d like.

Two weeks later you’re drunk off your mind, dancing the night away with some of your girlfriends when you catch a pair of familiar eyes fluttering across your body from the other side of the room. It makes you feel hot all over - despite what you said back then, you felt each agonising moment of the break up. Even if the logical part of your brain knows you have no future with such a man, your body needs him, craves him. 

Axel keeps staring at you intensely, burning holes through your neck, your thighs, your lips. His yearning gaze lingers, completely miserable, and yet as lustful as the night he first wrapped his arms around you and claimed you as his. He can still feel your nails scratching his back red and bloody, sending shivers down his spine and setting fire in his loins. This staring game of yours lasts for approximately thirty minutes before he gives in and comes over to your table. He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t look at you or greet your friends, doesn’t even pretend to have any reason to approach you. He simply grabs you, swallows an airy pant, and drags you inside the bathroom.

You’re all over each other in no time. His hands are tangled in your hair and your nails are sinking into his warm flesh once again. You can’t breathe for a second, suffocated by a deep, longing kiss that he only spares you of once your lips start to turn blue. He licks your neck and bites at any spot vulnerable enough to steal a gasp out of you - and you return it by sucking on his collarbone until a purple hickey adorns his skin. You swiftly unzip his loose pants and start taking your dress off, but as you try to spread your legs, he turns you around facing the wall. 

“Fuck, I wanna do you from the back, princess.” Axel mumbles, one strong hand gripping your throat as the other gropes your breasts freely. You nod weakly, too turned on to comprehend any of the words he’s saying. “Ngh, wanna be able to pull your hair n’ shit.” His fist wraps around your ponytail, pulling slightly so you expose your neck to his teeth. You can already feel his throbbing manhood prob at your thighs, slowly moving towards your entrance. “Y-you have a condom on, right?” You manage to whimper through the little electric bursts of pleasure running through your whole body as he plays you like an instrument. He mumbles something like “yeah”, and in this state of mind that’s enough for you.

He starts sinking into your heat slowly, letting you adjust to his hard length inch by inch, then once you’ve settled, practically begging him to just give it to you, he begins thrusting painfully slow - really making you feel it going in and out, in and out in a perfect rhythm. Each time his cock brushes against your most sensitive spot, you’re reduced to a slick, desperate mess, but just as your thighs begin to go numb and you slip down, Axel catches both of your wrists and pins them to the wall, keeping you in place. You’re so wet you can hear the slap of skin on skin every time your gummy walls hug his member, but you’re too far gone to care about the nasty sound.

“F-fuck, baby, you’d be so fucking hot as a mother. Have you ever thought about it?” Your ex whispers against you, picking up the pace. You shake your head - kids have never been your priority, since you’re still so young and your education would always come first. “I thought about it. A lot, ‘n fact, when we were separated.” His heartbeat fastens. “Ugh, you’re still so tight, god…” His free hand dances at your hips, ogling and caressing any curve it can find. “When you dumped me, I was completely lost, ya know? Didn’t sober up for three days. But then I dreamt that I knocked you up accidentally. S-shit, did you just tighten up?”

Your whole body stiffens at his words. Your stomach fills with unexplainable dread - this whole conversation is turning you off, but somehow your body seems to have a mind of its own. 

“Q-quit it with the small talk, asshole.” You groan, pushing back so you’d get more friction between your legs. “Just fuck me, okay? I don’t need to hear your weird fantasies.” You hear yourself saying confidently despite the provocative position you’re currently stuck in - you can’t even see his face, but you know he’s probably laughing at your bossy comment. But instead he keeps blabbering on as if you’re not even there. “You were so beautiful, princess. So big and–” He bites his lower lip. “So fucking needy for me - just like now. You were dripping everywhere. You were so excited for our little baby.” He grunted hoarsely, reaching in to stroke your clit - and despite your best efforts, you let out a soft moan. 

“And we were a family - just you, n-ngh, me and the little guy.” Axel utters through clenched teeth, trying to hold out for as long as possible - savouring you in tiny little bites. “No stupid degrees or anythin’, just us two against the world.” He slows down further, now barely moving inside of you. It’s driving you crazy with anticipation - both his story and the way he’s fucking you. “And it made me think, we could really have all that - if it wasn’t for your stupid pride. All I need to do is knock you up. Just think about it.” The man grips your hips roughly, impaling you on his thickness. 

“Your tits will swell, your thighs will thicken; you’ll be so tired you’ll have to lay down all the time. You won’t even be able to touch yourself because of your belly.” He smiles at you gently, although you can’t see it. At this point you’re already so close to climax you can’t break through the cotton cloud haze that’s taken over your mind to truly focus. This is one of the reasons you had to break up with the musician - he could get you cockdrunk with a simple touch, and that vulnerability felt terrifying.

“And I will take care of you through every-” He kisses your cheek. “single–” He kisses you again. “step of the way.” He inhales deeply, thrusting in one final time before he spills inside you. “I love you, baby. I really can’t let you go.”

[ew-selfish-art]

DpxDc AU: Tim as a child was never given a lot of information regarding the scribbling messy handwriting that appeared over night all over his arms- naturally he came to his own conclusions.

Tim Drake was home entirely alone at 9 years old and was about to go out for the night to test his brand new long exposure camera lens when he sees the writing on his arm. It’s not English, like he assumed it was at first, but it was using the alphabet to represent… Tim isn’t bad at math but this formula is complex for his little genius brain.

Looking at his camera, he decides he can spare a moment to look it up, solve it, and get back out into old town Gotham in time for Batman and Robin’s final patrol lap. He does just that, finding the problem to relate to some aerospace engineering and then quickly deduces what laws and theorems need to be applied. He finds a pen, writes down his findings in much neater handwriting onto his arm, and goes out. It’s barely a remarkable night at all. He gets a much more memorable photo of Robin roundhouse kicking a hench person.

Things just continued on that way. Tim would find some complex math, physics or chemistry prompt on his arm (surrounded by various question marks or notes or sad faces)- he’d answer it as best he could and move on with his life. Perhaps his parents were manifesting these pop quizzes? Perhaps his subconscious felt guilty about abandoning his studies for more Bat related pursuits? Tim really didn’t care to think much about it once he became Robin- there was too much on his plate and too many peoples problems for him to fix.

Notably, however, after the attack at the Tower, the pop quiz appeared and Tim wrote back that he wouldn’t be able to find an answer to this one. It was the only time Tim questioned the markings appearance and it was because the next thing that appeared was “Hope you feel better soon.”

… his parents wouldn’t include that on a pop quiz. Cursed then. Tim decided it must be a curse, whatever, he’d deal with the implications later in life.

Tim then has the worst year of his life, hes 15, no longer Robin and the questions from his curse are getting less math oriented and more… philosophical. A lot of mentions of death that, in hindsight helped him actually grieve, and a lot of theories about dark matter and souls. Tim answers back as best he can but he’s drained and his answers aren’t very good in his opinion. He gets minimal feedback.

It all comes to a point that he’s at a family dinner, Bruce is at the head of the table, Jason has promised just to stay for dessert, Damian hasn’t thrown a single insult his way and Steph was laughing at him- when a new theoretical model appears on his arm.

“You’re just as bad as Bruce, Timberly. Hiding a soulmate from all of us, how fucking typical.” Jason points out, while watching Tim scribble back some math with a question mark onto his arm.

“A what? No, this is just a curse. I get pop quizzes every now and then.” Tim bats away Steph who rapidly approaches and began to analyze his arm (the rest of the family isn’t far behind).

“Drake. Explain how you came to this conclusion.” Damian seems more curious than anything, if his lack of insults was anything to go off of.

“Since I was young I’ve had at least weekly math check ins, I never had a parent or anyone else around so I assumed my parents had me cursed to ensure I stayed on top of my studies. Sometimes it’s physics or chemistry, for a while there it was a ton of philosophy and behavioral psychology.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Master Tim, I believe the lack of adults in your life has led you towards a false conclusion. That is most certainly a soulmate mark. The individual to whom you are responding is undoubtedly your other half.” Alfred attempts to calm the room before explaining to Tim. Tim isnt sure if he believes the butler, though Alfred only very rarely lied, so he grabs the pen once more. He writes his first question back: “Who am I to you?”

The room waits in anticipation and within moments a brand new line appears on Tim’s arm and he is vindicated: “We do math together???”

——

The reason Danny is failing English is because his built in homework helper sucks ass at metaphors and has apparently never read any classic literature. The tutor on his arm is great at puzzles and math tho.

Danny gets a reply back one night that he wasn’t expecting (Who am I to you?) and he mentions it to Jazz. Who goes insane that Danny didn’t even question it and just went with “meh, probably haunted” as his explanation for the phenomenon for all these years.

Apparently, if Jazz was right, he had a soulmate who was uh, super fucking smart. That was an overwhelming thought.

The next day Danny is in crisis mode and writes back “Wait, WHAT AM I TO YOU??? Can I help on your homework??”

Danny gets vindicated when the writing on his arm presents a shit ton of dates and information for an unsolved Gotham cold case. See, Haunted.

———

Eventually between Danny becoming the top candidate for astrophysics at Wayne Enterprises and Tim Drake being outed as having contributed tips to the GCPD that solved cold cases- they meet and realize just how dumb they’ve been.

[marrowdrip]

*Good Girl*

Your eyes shoot open, staring widely at your own reflection in the bathroom mirror, as the sharp thought strikes your brain like a bolt of lightning.

*Good Girl*

You shudder with pleasure as your mind is suddenly and entirely consumed by those two words... The words your Owner whispers into your brain all the time... But Master didn't say those words this time, so where did they come from...?

*Good Girl*

You know you have to be a good girl, but of course you do. You need to be told what to do, what to think. Taking a deep breath, your thoughts retreat into the foggy pink cloud that your mind has become... Good girls don't think... Good girls are only pink...

Mindlessly going about your routine, your hands find the lip gloss on the bathroom counter top. Smiling vacantly at your own reflection, you admire the outfit you chose for the day; two braided pigtails surround your empty little head, resting on the pink crop top covering your tits. The words "angel baby" run across the top in black ink. Below your bare midriff is a pink and white mini skirt, just barely covering your tush, which is enhanced by the pink platform heels on your feet... Finally picking up the pink tinted glitter lip gloss, you rest your elbows on the counter to apply the gloss, bending at the hip to make it very clear you're not wearing panties. Almost as soon as the brush hits your lip for the first time, your eyes glaze over while staring deep into the mirror...

*Good Girl*

As if you were zoned out, suddenly everything becomes much more enhanced... Your elbows are aching from resting on the counter top for too long... Looking in the mirror, you realize you have put on too much pink glitter lip gloss... It's dripping off of your lips at this point... drip... drop... As if you were putting it on without stopping for ten minutes... Your lips are dripping... drooling... drip... drop... You can feel something dripping between your legs... Squirming and rubbing your thighs together... It feels like... cum... drooling from your pussy... drip... drop... Onto the floor next to your heels... Master's cum...? Your head is even more foggy then usual, but you manage to form some words....

"uuhn... M-m-maaaaaster..."

You look over at your Owner... He's naked, his cock pulsing from having recently unloaded, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he looks over at you... He can't hide his satisfaction...

"w-wh-what habbened?"

Your lips seem heavy as words almost spill from your lips; you find it difficult to speak as the excess lip gloss causes your speech to appear even slower and dumber than normal...

His words are a deep whisper in your ear, making you tremble as thoughts of obedience bubble through your mind... "Don't you remember, doll? I remodeled the bathroom... I installed the new mirror last night, don't you like it...?" Your lips hang open, vapidly drooling and dribbling down your chin as you stare up at Him with bambi eyes... He gently grip your jaw with my hand and whispers calmly, "Why don't you take another look?" He places another hand on the back of your head and gently forces your head to turn, until you face the mirror again, and a comforting sight awaits you... Master, naked and towering over his bimbo as she leans onto the countertop... dripping... drooling...

*Good Girl*

You zone in again, no longer in front of the mirror, and your tongue hanging out... no... It's licking... adjusting to your newfound position, you realize you've been obediently crawling and licking the bathroom tile... The cum that had been dripping out of your pussy onto the floor is now back within you... The flavor dances on your tongue as you lap and swallow until the floor is clean... Still, you're not in control of your body... As if in a trance, you use your fingers to open your mouth wide and move your tongue around, presenting your empty head up to Master while on your knees, wiggling your little tush...

"Good girl"

You shiver with pleasure as you hear your Owner actually utter the words this time...

"Now that you've swallowed up the mess you made, you need to clean up Master as well..." Crawling over to His cock, seemingly powerless to do anything except obey, your lips curve into an innocent smile as you kiss the tip of His cock before wrapping your lips around the head... Slowly, you begin bobbing your head up and down, leaving a trail of slime and pink glitter lip gloss on His shaft...Your mind quiets down as the confusion disappears now that you are where you're supposed to be... On your knees, serving Master... After several blissful minutes with your pigtails firmly in Master's clutches, you can feel His cock swell in your mouth before erupting at the back of your throat, cum coating your tongue as it's removed from your wet hole with a *pop.*

You lick your lips and grin up at me, happy you didn't spill any cum. Then, your eyes go wide and you yelp in surprise as Master uses one hand to grip the back of your head, just below your neck, lifting you up with ease and forcing you to look into the mirror...

*Good Girl*

When you zone in this time, you're laying on the bed, your hand desperately forcing a vibrator against your clit at high speed... You 'woke up' just in time to keep yourself from orgasming, pulling the vibrator away and riding the pleasurable waves of denial, as the bliss of obedience washes over you... You're a good girl... You will never forget your most important rule... You are only allowed cum when Master gives you permission... You sigh, as a silly grin spreads across your face as lay panting, empty, edged... Eventually, your eyes drift up to the ceiling... That's funny... When did Master install a mirror on the ceiling...?

*Good Girl*

[echoofadream]

WRITE A PART 4 I BEG YOU.

Your favorite patient...

Part 4

Summary: your slave has been a very good boy lately and you decide it's time for a reward

Contains: sub!male! yandere, AFAB!dom!reader(no gender specified), smut, master/slave dynamic, fingering(m!receiving), pegging, praise, degradation, breeding kink

Short note: thank you guys so much for all your support! I really appreciate it!❤️

"What have you done today, baby?" you ask, a smile on your face as you look at the kneeling man in front of you.

"I did the chores, the laundry, I restocked the fridge and I made dinner!" the man answers, eyes full of love and adoration slightly pleading for praise.

You start caressing his cheek and he leans into your touch letting out a contented sound. "And about your body, love? What have you done to keep it beautiful for me?"

He blushes at your question and slightly averts his gaze. "I shaved... everything. And applied soothing lotion...and also used a scrub before you arrived to make sure my skin is perfect for you. I did that after the shower, of course...then a face mask. And...I think that's all"

"Have you touched yourself?" he almost jumps at your sudden question, his eyes filling with apprehension. You chuckle and pinch his cheek hard until he lets out a whine.

"Haven't...only you can..." he whispers.

"Louder, baby and I want you to tell me why only I can"

He lets out an almost inaudible whimper. "You own me...I'm yours...my pleasure belongs to you..."

"That's a good boy" you praise and rub the red spot on his cheek with your thumb. "I think you deserve a reward, sweet thing"

His eyes light up at your words and he starts nodding frantically. "Yes yes yes yes please...yes please...I've been good..."

"Patience, baby" you say and pat his head. He leans into your touch, his body moving towards your hand as soon as you pull it away, eager to feel more of it. You pat the spot on the bed next to you and he basically jumps on the mattress like an obedient puppy. You get up and spread his legs, feeling the man squirm under your touch.

"Mhmm~ what are you gonna do?" he whimpers, big pleading eyes staring right at you. He was laying on his back, arms above his head and legs spread, looking like a piece of art you were impatient to devour yourself.

Your hands slip under his shirt and grope his chest, earning you a moan from your slave. He arches his back, trying to get more of your arousing touches. Before he even realized it, his shirt was on the floor and so were his pants. He lets out a trembling sigh as your hand starts caressing his bulge, your thumb slightly rubbing over his clothed tip.

"Ahh~ ...mhm doctor~ pleaseeee..."

"What is it you need, baby? Hm?" you ask with a heart warming smile on your face that made him weaker than he already was for you.

He blushes and looks away from you, squeezing his eyes shut. Your fingers start playing with the hem of his boxers, threatening to take them off and expose his hard cock. "I thought you were a good boy who deserves a reward, darling. Was I wrong? Are you naughty?" you ask him teasingly.

"No no no" he starts, shaking his head. "I'm a good boy....'m your good boy. I need uhm...I..." He looks at you, eyes filled with tears. Poor boy was so embarrassed about telling you this. Wasn't he so adorable?

"Need...cock...please" he whispers, letting out a whimper as soon as he finishes his words. You chuckle and stroke his thigh lovingly. "Mhm...don't laugh doctor!" he whines, a pout forming on his face which only makes you the more amused.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll give you what you want. How does that sound, sweet boy?" you ask. His face lights up and his hips thrust upwards slightly. You take his boxers off, causing him to let out a moan when his hard dick slaps against his lower stomach, precum sticking to his skin.

You get up from the bed and he whimpers when he sees you open the toy drawer. You grab the harness and his favorite dildo (a pink one with a huge tip, long but not too thick) and you start fastening the belts around your hips.

Soon enough he's already shivering from the touch of the cold lube against his sensitive hole, your fingers skillfully prepping him for the strap. "Mhm~ please..." he begs, giving you those adorable puppy eyes that, combined to the flush on his cheeks and the slight tremble of his lower lip, made you wanna fuck him then and there and forget about this procedure. But you couldn't. You couldn't fathom hurting him.

"Patience baby...we need to stretch you out good for my cock, okay sweetheart?" He nods at your reassuring words, taking deep breaths trying to calm himself down. His dick twitches, his arousal sliding down his length and reaching your fingers, adding to the lubrication.

Once he gets used to your fingers you curl them oh so deliciously inside him and press on his prostate, making him let out a loud whimper. "Ahh~ not so...ngh hard...pleaseee~"

"Oh, did I press too hard, sweet boy? Forgive me" you apologize to the man under you who looked more like a mindless pile of mush than an actual human being. God he was so pretty...You just wanted to hold him in your arms and care for him for all eternity, make him yours, make him yours, make him-

"Ngh-ahh ahh~ f-ahh doctor...!" he moans when he feels the pink fat tip of the dildo penetrate his hole.

"You're so pretty like this, baby" you tell him as you thrust inside him, the toy hitting his soft spot, making his eyes roll in the back of his head. His legs wrap around your waist and pull you towards him in a desperate attempt to feel more of you.

"More ngh~ more! Fuck me~ ahh ahh AHH~...!" And you can't argue with that. He was too fucking perfect. So desperate for you, so slutty for you, so pretty, yours, only yours. You keep fucking him just like he asked, pressing on his lower stomach to feel how deep inside him your toy went and oh god why wasn't it real? Why was life so unfair that you couldn't feel your sweet boy's walls wrap around your cock?

You hated that thought and out of anger and frustration you kept going harder. The bed was creaking, you could feel it underneath you, but his moans and whimpers were the only sound which could be heard in your apartment. You were sure the neighbors will complain again. Fuck the neighbors. All the hatred you had for them, all the hatred you had for every single thing that had made you pissed, you were taking it out on this poor boy's prostate and he was loving every second of it.

"Ahh~ ahh... ngh- plea- more nee-... cock"

"Yeah?" you try to ask him breathlessly. "You like it when my cock fills you up so good? Fucking slut! My slut! Mine mine mine"

"Ahh ngh-ahh wan- ...cum inside...me~ pleaseee"

"You want me to fill you up?" He nods frantically as you ask him this, trying to cover the sounds he was making with your words. "You want me to breed you? Want me to stuff you full of my cum?"

"Yesyesyesyesyes!! Pleaseeee~.....!!"

You didn't even care that it was impossible to get him pregnant. None of you cared about that. You were too lost in the moment.

Before your hand even gets its chance to grab his cock and stroke it, he arches his back and cums all over his stomach and chest. You slower your pace, helping him get down from his high.

"You did great, baby..." you tell him as you slowly slide your strap out of him. He whines a little when he feels you removing it from inside him.

"Mhm doctor...thank you~...I...I love you..."

You look at him with the most loving smile he's ever seen, the most love filled eyes. You caress his cheek gently as you speak.

"I love you too..."

Thank you for reading this and I hope you enjoyed it! You can send me requests for what you want me to write about in the future (this series or anything else)❤️

[harunayuuka2060]

Vil: What is Professor Vargas thinking by partnering those two?

Azul: Yuurin is one of the top performing first-year students while Malleus is the top performing student among third-years.

Vil: And?

Azul: ...

Azul: I don't know.

Vil: ...

Ace: Will Yuurin be alright?

Deuce: They'll just be doing the exercise together. I think there's nothing to be worried about haha...

Jack: You don't sound reassuring at all, Deuce.

Deuce: Well...

Deuce: We're talking about Draconia-senpai here.

Ace: Right...

Malleus: How are you, Yuurin?

Yuurin: I'm fine. How about you, Malleus-senpai?

Malleus: *chuckles* I'm doing great. What will we be doing today?

Yuurin: Catch and throw.

Malleus: I see.

Malleus: I'll try to be considerate with you.

Yuurin: Thank you, Malleus-senpai.

The students: ...

Professor Vargas: ...

Professor Vargas: I don't know what's going on but I'm liking it!

Malleus and Yuurin: *throwing and catching the ball at each other at the speed of light*

Malleus: *laughs* I never imagined that a simple game of catch and throw could be this enjoyable!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Malleus-senpai, it seems the PE class is almost over.

Malleus: Is it? We should wrap this up then.

Yuurin: *nods* *catches the ball and doesn't throw it again*

Malleus: *smiles* How's your hand, Yuurin?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *there are cuts in her hand*

Yuurin: I may have injured myself a bit.

Malleus: Hm. Come here, dear. I'll treat it for you.

Jack: ...

Ace: What did he just call him?

Deuce: ...

Deuce: "Dear".

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Leona-senpai?

Leona: Don't mind me. *applying a whole bottle of disinfectant to her hands*

Yuurin: ...

Jack: ...

Ruggie: *wheezing*

Leona: By the way, Aki is going to visit here next week.

Yuurin: Huh?

Leona: He told you before, didn't he?

Yuurin: ...Yes.

Leona: ...

Leona: He'll be visiting together with his husband.

Yuurin: ...

Ruggie: I— Leona? I thought Aki would tell her that himself?

Jack: ...

Leona: My tongue slipped.

Yuurin: ...

Jack: So Yuurin is a protective sister...

Leal: *shivers*

Leal's sister: What's wrong?

Leal: ...

Leal: I-I don't know. But it's scary...

Leal's sister: Huh?

Akihiko: ...

Akihiko: Leona must've told Yuurin already.

Leal: Ah! Master Akihiko?

Akihiko: Hm?

Leal: Are you sure that I should visit Night Raven College with you?

Akihiko: Yes. *smiles* You're my husband. You need to accompany me.

Leal: Right...

Yuurin: Aki.

Akihiko: *soft chuckles* Sorry.

Yuurin: Who is it? *sounds stern*

Akihiko: You'll meet him soon.

Yuurin: Is he a good person?

Akihiko: *chuckles again*

Yuurin: ...

Akihiko: Don't be mad, bluebell. I wanted to tell you, but I'm sure you would go against it.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Couldn't you have waited a little longer?

Akihiko: I'm sorry, bluebell.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *sigh* What can I do? It has been done.

Akihiko: By the way, how are you feeling, bluebell? Are you experiencing any side effects from stopping all your medications?

Yuurin: Hm. No.

Akihiko: ...

Akihiko: How about your voice?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: I won't be using my feminine voice to you because you kept something important from me.

Akihiko: Aww... But will I get to hear it in my visit to Night Raven College?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Yes.

Akihiko: *chuckles* I'm excited.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Can't you tell me his name at least?

Akihiko: You can ask for his name when you meet him.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Fine.

Leal: ...

Leal: There's that shiver again.

Leona: I can't tell you who it is.

Leona: But he's not that handsome. Don't worry.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Leona-senpai.

Leona: Nah. I already broke my promise once.

Leona: I won't be doing that twice.

Yuurin: ...

[w3r3theli0nshunt]

POV: waking up with your boyfriend: Soap, Gaz, Ghost, Price & könig

141! + könig x gn!reader

!So these are my head-cannons for how the guys would wake up if they were in a relationship. I may be wrong or maybe not, but there’s no wrongs or rights when it’s head-cannons ;) This is not gender specific so it applies to everyone and anyone.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈!!!

Enjoy!

꧁✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽꧂

★He’s definitely the type to sleep in, which means you usually wake up before him

★He is the cuddle master

★Loves when you put your body weight on him, he loves the pressure

★During spooning, he prefers to be the big spoon

★If he wakes up and notices that you’re not in his arms, he will wrap his arms around you and draw you closer there’s no escaping him hihi

★If you wake up earlier and try to get out of bed, he tighten his grip (in his sleep, bc you’re not leaving)

★Uses his puppy eyes to try and persuade you to stay in bed with him for another few hours

★Do not care if you tell him that you have to go to work, he doesn’t want you leave his tight embrace

★Definitely has a bad morning breath bc he sleeps with his mouth open and snores loud

★Prefers to sleep in boxers only and like it when you sleep in your underwear only, makes it feel more intimate when he feels your skin against his

★If he wakes up before you, he’ll gently wake you up with smooches and kisses all over your head

★Always comments on when (if) you talk in your sleep and says it’s cute, even if you feel ashamed of it.

★Enjoys listening to your (soft) snores, it means that you’re close to him and that’s all he needs to be able to remain calm

★His body is scorching hot so you have to dump the blanket as soon as you wake up

★He’s a very affectionate fella and he’ll happily initiate morning sex with you to show it (also because he’s in general just a horny person with the slightest touch turning him on)

★You two wake up almost around the same time

★Tells you how cute and beautiful you look all the time, always manages to make you blush

★He’s a bit kinder during sleeping sessions, whereas he lets you keep distance if you accidentally roll away from him during sleep and let you roll back to him in your own time

★He’s def the guy to sleep in a tank top and a pair of joggers, he doesn’t really mind what you wear to sleep just as long as you’re comfy :)

★Loves leaving kisses on you when you’ve woken up

★His snores are more softer than Soap’s

★He moves a lot in his sleep which causes him to wake up in strange positions lol

★If he wakes up before you, he usually brush the strands of your hair while admiring your sleeping face

★He’ll happily stay in bed with you if you choose to initiate a cuddling session

★You’re his top first prior so he doesn’t mind getting a little late for a duty

★He’ll also (like Soap) initiate morning sex with you

★Has a soft voice which soothes you

★Definitely imagine a future with you, kids, marriage and stuff lovers do

★Kisses you softly on the mouth then leaves a few pecks on your cheeks and head

★His scratchy beard will wake you up

★If he wake up before you, he’ll wake you up as well with kisses and nose against nose rubs

★Will always call you by a nickname (your name is not y/n anymore, it’s ‘love’)

★Loves being the big spoon while cuddling and sleeping

★He’ll leave kisses on you even in the middle of the night if he’s awake

★You’re not safe from his showering affections

★Always prepares breakfast in beforehand

★If you wake up before him, you better still be in his arms or he’ll come and get you

★Def snores loudly, deafening loud and they sound like motor engines

★Has bad morning breath like Soap only a tad worse

★Will ask you the most random questions like “will you marry me tomorrow” or “if I were a worm would you still love me?”

★Will be a little moody before he gets his morning coffee

★Loves cupping your cheeks and kiss your forehead

★We all know by this point that he almost never sleeps, which means he’ll always be awake before you

★He lays dead still in bed, staring at you like this 👁️👄👁️

★He will never let you escape his life embrace, bc every time you move away from him in your sleep, he instantly wakes up because of the loss of you and as quickly as he wakes up, pulls back into his arms

★Only feel calm when he’s touching you

★He’s definitely not a smoochy and kissy person like the other guys, but he’ll leave a few if you’re lucky

★You’ll always wake up in his arms, no kidding

★He definitely mumbles and talks a lot in his sleep and despite his nightmares he lays dead still anyways

★If you show the slightest sign of recoil in his arms, he’ll instantly let you go

★Even though it’s against his will to let you go, he still do

★This man doesn’t wanna seem clingy or a burden so he’ll back away if you give off the slightest signs

★He definitely sleeps full covered and doesn’t care about what you wear when you go to sleep

★He never talks during the morning, he’ll just hum or grunt if you try and talk to him

★He won’t mind if you fall back asleep, so long as you’re close to him, he’s happy

★Never shows that he wants to cuddle or spoon with you, only let you initiate it first

★He’s definitely the ‘action shows more than words’ type

★Hmm, I think there’s an equal measure of when the two of you wake up first

★He’ll be clingy and sad if you move away from him in your sleep

★Like Ghost and Soap, he’ll always pull you back to him in a tight embrace

★Almost gets an anxiety attack if you’re not in bed when he wakes up

★Will also stare at you if he’s awake before you, before he showers you in kisses

★Very affectionate like Gaz and Soap

★Will call you by German nicknames like liebe, schatz, mein ;)

★Will literally beg you to stay in bed with him by tightening the embrace when you try to pull away

★Doesn’t let you go, even if you need to go to the toilet

★Loves burying himself in you with your arms around him, makes him feel safe and loved

★Absolutely loves cuddling with you and he doesn’t really care about who’s the big spoon, just the fact that you’re close to him

★Would absolutely stitch his skin to you if it meant that you’ll always remain close to him, even during sleep

★Will wake you up he’s having a nightmare which makes you console him

꧁✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽꧂

[loupy-mongoose]

Well....

I seem to have found my new fixation.

But it's not Pokemon.

It's something else entirely.

Back in 2022, I had a similar bout of art/writer's block. I found a random plot generator and started getting stuff...

I eventually ended up with this;

I was hooked.

(That's old art from '22 btw)

First off, I have to say that while the story itself covers very heavy and dark topics, this post here doesn't have anything like that. So here you're safe, and I will of course apply all the necessary warnings and tags going forward! ^^

I fixated hard on that story, writing up a loose outline of basically all of it. And thankfully, I wrote most of my best ideas down, because, as tends to happen, the fixation faded after a while.

I came so close to starting it on DA back then--A prologue comic ready and everything. But I fell just shy of the courage I needed to actually publish it.

Well, now I've fallen in love with it all over again... with a new life.

I've taken the wolves' story, and merged them. :>

The characters are gonna be my plush wolf fellows/werewolves. This does mean their wolfiness will probably fall second banana to everything else going on, but... I want it to be, darn it. I'm having way too much fun with the idea! XD

Anyway, I have concept arts!

Here we have Timber (gray haired man), one of the wolves I mentioned here and the druid in this story, and Eirwen (white wolf/young girl), who is the Necromancer. :>

And the staff... One of my personal favorite new additions...

It's a creature called a Staffwyrm.

Instead of magical staves, mages in this world get magical creatures. :3

Staffwyrms are a breed of dragon specially bred to assist mages in channeling their magic. A mage acquires an egg and incubates it; meanwhile, the hatchling reads the magical signature of its soon-to-be master, morphing to appear like a branch from a symbolically relevant tree. However that symbolism applies is up to the powers that be. :)

Staffwyrms are highly attuned to the wishes of their master, and can instinctively stiffen to meet their needs. A hook to climb or grab something? Of course! A sturdy step to reach something or see higher? Might take some figuring out, but they got you! A backscratcher? Sure, why not!

A loyal pet and companion? Absolutely. <3

@puzzled-zebra commented that it had a boop button, so I had to. X3

Anyway, I've been having a lot of fun cooking up this story again. As sad as I am to apparently be taking a true break from Pokemon stuff, I'm very proud of this story and happy to have something to muse about. ^^

[therosietoesy]

Shout at the Devil

Warning: riding dick, smut, choking, spitting, hair pulling, unprotected sex, breeding, cream pie.

A/N: reposting my first ever Eddie fic

You and Eddie are a match made in heaven. Although everyone is confused on how the photo editor of the yearbook ended up with the resident freak. It happened during the summer before your senior year. You were at Hideout photographing the bands playing, it was then you were introduced to Eddie’s band Corroded Coffin. You were the last person he expected to see there but it created a friendship that was golden.

Soon Eddie asked you out and you were inseparable. You could not have asked for a better partner. He was beyond supportive of your dreams and you of his. Anytime Corroded Coffin played he made sure that you were their photographer nobody else could be but you. Which you truly appreciated and found beyond adorable.

It was a typical night that Corroded Coffin had a show to play that evening. You met Eddie at the hellfire club room they were playing their campaign before their show which their set wasn't till very later that night. It looked like they were cleaning up the session and getting ready to go for the show. Everyone else has left for the evening expect for Eddie who was waiting for you to arrive. “How was tonight’s session Dungeon Master?” You asked. He let out a chuckle “It was great, those dorks won’t know what hits them next session when the big storyline is introduced.” He pulled you into a hug and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Well, it sounds like you had loads of fun.” You replied. His eyes kept going back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “Why don’t you just kiss me Eds?” You joked and he finally pressed his lips against yours. A simple kiss turning to a heated make out session and he led you to the infamous Dungeon Master throne. He took his rightful place and pulled you into his lap continuing the heated kiss. We'll continue in kissing it turned into grinding on each other. Thank Ozzy you wore a skirt that day so you could really feel your cunt against the roughness of the denim of his jeans. He began to groan out your name “Y/n, please don’t stop.” You just giggled and continued your movement against his crotch. This kept going on for a few moments until his hands gripped your waist and stilled your movements all together.

“Babe.” He mumbled against your lips, you nodded in response. “Ride me, please.” He whispered softly. You never moved faster to remove each article of clothing, but a firm hand stops you from removing your skirt, you glanced up at him. “Keep it on” he spoke and you nodded your head in agreement. He removes your panties from underneath and lifted you up over his dick. Carefully placing you down on his dick and holding your hips letting you adjust. You both let at a moan of the feeling of being connected. A whine leaves your lips and you begin to roll your hips. Eddie hands hold on to your waist as soon as you start picking up your pace. Bouncing up and down over and over again moans flying from your lips. “Y/N!” Eddie started chanting your name over and over again like a beautiful song. One of his hands came to your neck and he started to apply pressure to your neck which made you open your mouth and his other hand held your jaw so that way he can spit into your mouth. “Swallow “ He grunted and you swallowed thus resulting you sticking out your tongue to show him and he groaned out at how obedient you are for him.

His grip started to get frimer and slightly painful in a good way. “Eddie, baby, please oh please.” You whined and picked up your pace.He started to tease and groan with how you felt wrapped around him. “Begging to cum already hun? You want to breeded don’t cha?” He quipped while running his hand through your hair and he yanked it. You moaned out a loud yes and kept begging him. “Eds, please breed me. Fill me up with your cum. I need it.” You whined and felt the glorious burn in your legs and stomach. He soon felt your pussy start squeezing him for what he’s worth and then his fingers fly to your clit to began to circle it to bring you over the edge. Shouting of his name “Eddie, Oh my fucking god!” as you came all over his cock. Thus he started bucking up into you faster and faster once he was close stopped his movements and held you in place as he released his cum into you and filling you up. Pants and sighs fill the Hellfire club room and soon enough soft laughter. “Wow, that was something babe.” Eddie remarked and held you close to him. You giggled, “I love you Eddie. Don’t forget you have a show to get to.” He groaned “Fuck, I don’t want to go.” “Common Rockstar, we gotta get going.” You said getting ready to climb off his lap. Once you both gotten up and stretched out, both began to redress and you slipped on your underwear while being bent over Eddie came and placed a slap on your cum filled pussy to remind you of this moment when you watch him on stage tonight and felt some of his cum leak down your thighs.

[edsmore]

***SUBMISSIONS CLOSED! THANKS TO ALL WHO PARTICIPATED!***

LOOKING FOR PARTICIPANTS FOR CONLANGING STUDY!

Calling all conlangers! I’m Eddie (he/they), a conlanger and Master’s student studying applied linguistics. For my dissertation I’m looking to conduct some research on conlanging and the wonderful amazing people that do it! And if you want, you can participate in this research!!!

If you’re over the age of 18 and have made (or tried to make!) at least 1 language, you are eligible to take this questionnaire! And you don’t need any formal linguistics training or knowledge to complete it! I’ll also be conducting a few in-depth interviews (randomly selected), so if you’re interested in that part of the study as well you can indicate your interest in the questionnaire :-)

The questionnaire is on Microsoft Forms and split into two parts, so if you only have time/want to do the first one, it’s no big deal; Part 1 is more general (~15 mins), Part 2 is where you get to gush about a language you’ve made (avg ~20 mins)!

LINKS TO PARTICIPATE: Part 1, Part 2

DEADLINE: I’ll close submissions in June, but if you want to be considered for an interview, get it done by the end of May!

CONTACT: Casual or clarifying questions are welcome via tumblr (edsmore), but if you have more serious inquiries, you can find my university email on the information sheets located in the questionnaire forms.

(obligatory mention that this research is being officially conducted through the University of Oxford; information on data privacy/collection can be found in the information sheet provided in the questionnaire. The official flyer for this study with more information can be found here)

Of course this is all totally voluntary! If you’re interested, I hope to read about some of your cool languages soon!

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 55: Lily's Illusion

Previous > Masterlist > Next

tw: blindness, conditioning, hypnosis, body control, abuse, aftermath of hand whump

October 1925

Oliver's sleep was troubled, filled with nightmares where he couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't do anything to make his body obey him. Alexander's sire was shoving him below the waves, drowning him while he was helpless. Alexander was being tied up and tortured, and there was nothing Oliver could do for his master but watch, and --

He woke up in a cold sweat, heart pounding too fast. It was pitch black, and despite being wide awake and terrified, he couldn't open his eyes. He couldn't see where he was, couldn't remember, and cold hands came out of nowhere to grip him tight. In a panic, he screamed, kicking his assailant and struggling out of his grasp, thick blankets impeding his escape.

"Oliver!" said a familiar voice. "Oliver, it's only me. You're safe."

His master. That's where he was -- in his master's bedchambers, in his master's arms. He took a deep breath, trying to expel the fear from his body. He was safe, even though he still couldn't open his eyes.

Alexander gently pulled him in closer, and Oliver accepted it, relaxing back onto the bed. "Sorry, sir."

"No need to apologize. I understand completely. My sleep has also been uneasy, although much improved by your presence," he said. "Are you still blinded?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then we should head to Lily's as soon as you're ready," he said. "Although I suppose I'll have to help you dress and wash."

Oliver's face flushed. "Ah, I'm sure I can manage, sir…"

"Manage with your eyes closed? I won't have you falling down the stairs and harming yourself," he said with a tone that brooked no argument. "I'm going to pick you up now, all right?"

And Oliver felt himself being lifted by unnaturally strong arms, floating through the air with only his master as his tether to the world. Alexander seemed to sense his distress, as he hummed a tune under his breath as they walked, one that made Oliver's tense muscles relax. Despite that, the sensation of going down the stairs was still disconcerting.

"If you drop me off at the door to the bathroom, sir, I can take care of my business," said Oliver, hoping to retain some dignity.

"Very well, but I'm going to tend to your wounds afterwards. I need to make sure they're clean."

Oliver thankfully knew the layout of the bathroom well enough to find the toilet and sink, embarrassed at needing so much aid from his master and already quite tired of groping around in the dark. When he was finished, Alexander entered, removing his shirt to look at his back.

"It's terribly bruised, but the few cuts are shallow," Alexander murmured, applying some cool salve. "…You must think I'm a terrible coward for accepting my sire's command to strike you, rather than standing up to him."

"I don't, sir," he said, and it was almost true. "If you had tried, I don't doubt it would have been worse for both of us." He did know that, but in his heart, he wished that his master had protected him.

"There's only one way I can truly protect you," said Alexander, as though he had read Oliver's mind. "I need to kill him. It's easier said than done, of course, but… I will do it this time, or perish trying. I swear it."

Oliver didn't have to wonder what would happen to him in the entirely possible event that his master did perish trying. He'd no doubt end up in the hands of Alexander's sire, perhaps permanently, and the thought almost made him want to plead with Alexander not to try.

Instead, he shoved that unpleasant thought from his mind as best he could. "Will Miss Lily really be able to undo my punishment, sir?"

"I'm sure she will. Her mastery when it comes to controlling the human mind is unparalleled," he said. "And for enduring these latest hardships, I'll also make sure the pantry and icebox are well-stocked with whatever foods you favor. Anything you need."

"I appreciate it, sir."

"And the night after next, my dear friend Fitz arrives from overseas."

With everything that had happened lately, Oliver had nearly forgotten about his master's friend, and he was gripped by a wave of dread at the thought of another visiting vampire. "Is there anything I should know, sir, to better serve your friend?" he said, trying to feel out the situation.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that. Just be your usual self, and I'm sure he'll just adore you. He's been after me to get a decent thrall for ages, you know," said Alexander. "Just be patient with him, give us space when we ask for it, and -- oh, I'm sure he'll want to drink from you."

The place where the Maestro had dug his fangs into Oliver's neck throbbed with pain. "He will, sir?" said Oliver reluctantly.

"It won't be painful!" his master reassured him quickly. "Fitz is nothing like my sire. His feeding will be as gentle as mine. He won't harm you, I swear it."

"I'm glad of that, sir," said Oliver, who still couldn't quite calm his anxiety.

"It probably won't surprise you to learn that my sire is the reason Fitz fled this city and resides overseas," said Alexander. "When my sire is finally dusted, he'll return to me. He'll come live in the manor with his thrall, and we'll be together at last."

Oliver had never heard his master sound so wistful. "He must be very important to you, sir."

"I suppose you would figure out sooner or later that we're old lovers. Fitz certainly won't make a secret of it."

"Lovers?" He was sure he was unable to hide the surprise on his face. "I didn't realize you had any lovers, sir."

"I confess that it's often a painful subject for me. Less so when I know he's on a boat heading over the Atlantic at this very moment. We share a bond, you see, and I can tell by how miserable he is -- he's always been especially prone to seasickness," said Alexander fondly. "But as much as I'd like to spend the evening pining fruitlessly, we really should get to Lily's as early as we can, lest she head out for the night before we can consult her. I'll guide you to the bedroom and help you put on the clothes I've chosen for you."

Oliver let himself be guided without a fuss, still loathing the fact that he was so helpless that he wasn't even able to choose his own clothes. If Miss Lily couldn't help him, if he had to resign himself to weeks of blindness and lose even more of his remaining autonomy to his master, unable to even indulge in the simple joy of reading, he wasn't sure he could endure it.

Soon enough, they were stepping out into the chill fall evening, Alexander keeping a firm arm around Oliver to guide him through the streets. It was distressing to be able to hear other pedestrians on the sidewalk, to feel the uneven stones under his feet, without being able to open his eyes and see anything. He was entirely reliant on his master to navigate the familiar city, and if Alexander let go, Oliver would be immediately lost and helpless. Thankfully, he clung to Oliver tightly.

"We're here," said Alexander. "There are four steps in front of you - let me help you up them."

Oliver heard a loud knocking, then footsteps and a door creaking open.

"Oh, Lex!" said a familiar voice. "I thought you were my 9pm appointment arriving early. And what on earth happened to your hand?"

"Our sire's handiwork, of course. Are you taking customers today?" asked Alexander. "I hope you have some time to help us. It's a bit of an emergency."

"Come in, come in," said Lily, and Oliver felt himself being gently nudged forward into a very warm room. "You know very well I'll make the time, but I'd rather get started right away. I assume our sire has done something to Oliver?"

Alexander's hands rested on Oliver's shoulders. "He commanded Oliver to keep his eyes closed and now he can't open them. My poor thrall is quite blind."

"Oh, dear," she sighed. "That's a surprisingly mild punishment from him, though. He must have approved of Oliver."

"Oliver comported himself magnificently. The very picture of an ideal thrall," said Alexander, and Oliver's heart felt warm from the praise. "Another reason why he deserves to have his sight restored as soon as possible."

"Let me see." Oliver felt soft hands touch his face. "Oliver, dear, what did he tell you as he was forcing your eyes to close? The exact phrasing, if you can."

Oliver's memories felt muddled and hazy from fear and enthrallment, but he could remember that. "He told me he was placing lead weights on my eyes, sir, that they're too heavy for me to lift, and that he is the only one who can move them."

"All right. I believe I can work with that. Come with me. Lex, you stay out here, and if my 9pm arrives, try to keep her occupied with your sparkling wit and impeccable social skills."

"You can't be serious about that."

"Leaving your manor and socializing sometimes is good for you," she said, as she touched a hand to Oliver's back and pushed him along.

Oliver heard a door close behind him.

"Can you sit down, dear?"

She took his hand and placed it on the seat of a chair, and Oliver sat, sinking into the soft leather. He realized that the chair was awfully familiar -- the twin of the chair in Miss Lily's room at the auction house. The association caused his mind to fog and he couldn't keep from letting out a yawn, already three quarters of the way to trance.

"You remember, don't you?" said Lily, as she ran fingers through his hair and down his cheek. "So obedient, so docile. So sleepy. And so very, very quiet."

Oliver was utterly helpless against the tide of hypnosis gripping his mind. His head lolled backwards as he let out a soft groan. With his eyes already closed tight, it felt natural for sleep to wash over him.

"Quiet, Oliver, you're so quiet. You're sinking back down under my power now. You're completely safe with me. Safe for you to fall asleep, fall deep asleep. You're so drowsy, aren't you? A quiet, docile boy like you just wants to sleep and listen…"

She kept murmuring to him, but Oliver was already out like a light, quiet and sleepy and dreaming. After the terror of the previous night, it was so good to sleep so soundly, comfortable and content. Oliver felt like he could float in this pleasant dream forever.

That is, until he heard footsteps. Footsteps which did not belong to Lily or his master. Footsteps that were oddly light and perfectly in rhythm.

No, it couldn't be. That was impossible. There was no way that he was here --

But he could feel it already, the hold over his body, the feeling that his flesh and bones no longer belonged to him. He wasn't being manipulated, not yet, but he could sense it all around. He was here and in control, and Oliver could barely think through the numbing terror that gripped him.

"Wake up," said the musical voice of Alexander's sire, followed by a crisp snap. "I don't recall allowing you to sleep."

"I'm sorry, sir! I didn't mean to fall asleep." Oliver felt himself forced out of the chair and into a kneel, his back ramrod straight and his sweating hands clasped behind him. He couldn't budge an inch, and although he still couldn't open his eyes, he could feel that icy gaze boring into him.

"I don't understand why you think that disobedience out of poor self control is better than disobedience on purpose. Disobedience is disobedience."

"Yes, sir," said Oliver, trembling, waiting for a slap across his still tender cheek.

"I suppose, though, if you're to have any use as a servant, you'll need to have your eyes open, lest I have to puppet your wretched form everywhere," he said. "I will remove the weights on your eyes, and you will be appropriately grateful, and then you will serve me however I please."

Oliver swallowed nervously, dreading what the Maestro had in store for him. "Thank you very much for allowing me to serve you, sir."

"I will lift the heavy weight off each of your eyelids," he said, and Oliver felt something brush over his eyes, "and then you will graciously be allowed to open them on your own."

Despite being so eager to be cured earlier, Oliver was reluctant to open his eyes now, not wanting to face Alexander's sire once again, not understanding how he came to be here. But he had no choice. He opened his eyes…

…and there was Miss Lily standing before him.

He looked around in a panic. The Maestro was nowhere to be found, a phantom conjured by his own imagination and Miss Lily's mesmerism. "You…"

"He was the only one who could remove the command. I had to make your mind believe that I was him," she said. "I'm sorry for giving you such a fright, but it was the easiest way to undo what was done."

Oliver's heart was still pounding, unable to calm. "Yes, sir… thank you…"

"Poor dear, you're trembling like a leaf. Let me soothe you before sending you back to your master," she said. "Quiet now, Oliver. Quiet your frightened mind. You're safe here. It's only me."

"It's only you, sir…" said Oliver, sinking back into a merciful daze.

"That's right, and I take such good care of you, don't I?" she said with a smile. "You can relax now. Deep breaths, Oliver dear, deep breaths. Let all that tension out. Let that fear fade away. Let your mind be so, so quiet."

Oliver followed her instructions, taking deep breaths, and soon he did feel calmer, the terror of the hypnotic illusion fading. It was only a dream, one which could fade away into the obedient quiet of his enthralled mind.

"Lex is always singing your praises when he talks to me, you know," said Lily. "You're an absolute natural at serving a vampire, just as I knew you would be. Doesn't it make you feel good to serve Lex?"

It was both question and command, reinforcing his conditioning, and Oliver fell into it easily. "I very much enjoy serving Lex, sir."

"Of course you do, sweet boy. You've been so brave, and you deserve to feel good." She patted Oliver on the head one last time. "Now, if you're feeling better, why don't I return you to your master?"

"Yes, sir," said Oliver, feeling like a weight had been lifted from more than his eyes.

They left the stark conditioning room and stepped out into Miss Lily's home, which was done up very differently from Alexander's, filled with bright colors, fussy details, and homespun knick-knacks. A fat black cat ran up to Miss Lily and began winding around her ankles, and she scooped it up and gave it a kiss on the head. "This is Luna," she said. "Her brother Sunny is probably off on Miriam's lap."

"Hello, Luna," said Oliver, giving her a scritch.

As they walked down the hallway, Oliver could hear a steady stream of excited patter. "…and then I told him, is that really an appropriate place to take a lady on a date? And you know what he said? He said, well, they hardly ever hold horse racing at night, so I thought you'd like to see it. And I said, I can't see a blessed thing even with a vampire's eyesight. And then --"

They entered the parlor, where Alexander was sitting on a frilly gingham couch and nodding politely to everything a young woman was saying. She was done up in the latest fashions, and had a scrawny-looking man on a leash, kneeling at her feet. He looked at Oliver with fear in his eyes, pleading, as though there were anything Oliver could do.

"Ah, you had an appointment for 9pm, I believe?" said Miss Lily to the woman. "I appreciate your patience. I had an emergency job, but I'm free to take your thrall to the conditioning room now."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all!" she chirped. "I've been having a lovely time with Lord Alexander here." She stood up and handed the man's leash over to Miss Lily. "Just a thorough reconditioning for obedience and contentment, please. The place I bought him from did such an awful job -- you can see how distressed he is, and you should see the faces he pulls when it's time to feed. He's already escaped twice and I had to waste so much time tracking him."

"Of course, it's my pleasure," she said.

"No…" The thrall was backing away from Miss Lily, practically choking himself with his own leash. "No, please…"

Miss Lily knelt down and pet his head like one would a dog. "It's all right, dear, you'll see. Why don't you just relax? Just relax. Calm and peaceful, okay? I'm not gong to hurt you. Everything's going to be okay."

Oliver watched in fascination as the fear bled away from the thrall's expression, his eyes fixed on Miss Lily's and becoming glassy and dazed. He couldn't help but wonder if he wore a similar expression when he was under Miss Lily's spell.

"That's a good dear. So relaxed and at ease," she cooed. "You're going to feel so much better after you've had a session with me, I promise."

The thrall glanced up at Oliver, as if looking for some kind of confirmation. Oliver remembered how terrified he was the first time he had gone in for conditioning. "She's right," he said with a smile. "It's not scary at all, it's just like having a really good sleep, and you'll feel great afterwards."

"See?" said Miss Lily. "There's nothing to be scared of." She turned to Lex. "Sorry I can't stay around and chat, but I should get started on this session."

"Of course. We'll take our leave, and call on you another night," he said. "Oh, and Lily, before I go -- are you free on Friday night? Fitz will be in town, and I was hoping we could all go to the Tiger's Eye."

"Ooh, I wouldn't miss it," she said. She stood and ruffled Oliver's hair. "You'll be a good boy for our dear friend Fitz, won't you?"

"Yes, Miss Lily."

"Then I'll see you two soon enough, I'm sure. Have a good evening!"

"Are you feeling better?" Alexander asked as they stepped back out into the cool night air. "You're certainly looking much better."

"Yes, much better, sir. Thank you very much for taking me to Miss Lily," Oliver said. Now that he could see once again, he could see that the night was clear, the sky filled with a thousand brilliant stars. "Do you think we could go for a walk before returning home, sir? I could use the fresh air."

"I think that's a splendid idea," said Alexander, wrapping his arm around Oliver's once more.

Oliver saw the thick wad of bandages wrapped around his master's hand, and quite against his will he remembered the sickening smell of burnt flesh in the air. "Sir, your hand…"

"I've told you before that it will heal, but I appreciate your concern for me," said his master with a warm smile. "Your health and company is all the balm I need to soothe my pains tonight."

Thanks to Miss Lily, he was so obedient, so eager to please. "I'm glad that I can be helpful to you, sir."

"Always, Oliver. Don't doubt it for a minute."

Previous > Masterlist > Next

I always enjoy writing Lily! Next week, the beginning of a three-parter involving a masquerade ball and Fitz's very impulsive decisions.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping @natthebatt @fire-bugg14

@fuckcapitalismasshole

[twignotstick]

Broken Brothers (and How to Fix Them)

Part 2 💙 | <- Part 1 🧡

Note: This story is based on @cupcakeslushie 's Empyrean Weeping au. These characters are not my own, and this story is in no way canon to the main story. I wrote this as my love letter to the story and the characters. Especially April :)

Tags: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, ROTTMNT, Leo & April, NOT MY CHARACTERS, Empyrean Weeping AU, recovery (i have a sneaking suspicion that will apply to the whole fic,,), talking it out because we're adults, movies, comics, they're becoming friends

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): Mention of violence (its one sentence, but figure I should still put it here :P)

Words: 1,588 (there's less setup this time)

Summary: April was able to figure out her first brother easily. Now, she gets three more, with a couple more issues to worry about.

----------------------

As soon as she even saw Leo for the first time, she knew he wouldn't be as easy to get along with as Mikey was. Mikey was always so open, so bright, so bouncy. Leo, in comparison, was still, dull, and closed off. He had just come from a terrible ninja clan, beaten by his own master. It was kind of warranted.

Any time April would enter the medbay where they were keeping Leo, he would silently stare a hole in her soul. His face had hardly loosened from the scowl he had adopted, and any time April would get near, it would just harden more. Even so, April kept trying to get close. Despite Raph's concerns for her physical health. (And with Mikey's encouragement, because he was happy to enable the potentially dangerous behavior.)

One afternoon, she decided to bring a ton of her Jupiter Jim comics to read. The boys needed a break from watching their somewhat-volatile-yet-severely-wounded brother, and April knew he wouldn't talk to her. So, once she settled down in her chair a few feet away from the bed where Leo was scowling, she pulled out the comic she'd left off on: Jupiter Jim Breaks Newton's Fourth Law, Volume 8.

After a few minutes of reading, April couldn't help but notice a change in Leo out of her peripheral vision. He wasn't staring at her anymore, but at her comic. This glare wasn't full of discontent and uncertainty. Instead, it was filled with emotions he was trying (and failing) to hide- curiosity and excitement.

“You read Jupiter Jim?”

Leo was surprised by the sudden question and whipped his gaze away, a slight flush coming to his cheeks. “No.”

April's journalism senses were kicking in. There was a story here. “Why not?”

“Things like that are…” Leo's posture tightened, almost as if the thing he was about to say wasn't what he believed, “useless distractions.”

“I don't think so,” April said, shifting her chair a little closer to the bed. “I think it's important to have distractions sometimes. Y'know, during finals, when you're sick, when you've got a broken arm…” Subtly, April started slipping the comic in her hands to the bed. “You can read it, if you want.”

“No. I can't.”

Leo looked surprisingly aggressive when he responded. He seemed to catch his unwarranted anger and mumbled, “I still haven't read 6 or 7.”

“Oh!” April sat up straight and grabbed her bag from the floor. “I've got the whole arc up to 9 in here, I thiiink-” Once she had fished out the comics she was looking for, she placed them on the corner of the bed by Leo's feet.

The slider stared at the comics like they'd offended him.

“...well?”

“I-I can't. I can't hold them with my arm-”

“I can hold it for you!” April said. “I can turn the pages whenever you need.”

Leo finally looked back at April with that trademark scowl he always had. “What's your game, woman?”

April smiled. “No games, just trying to make you feel comfortable in your new home.”

Leo huffed. “This isn't my home.”

“It's where your family is, isn't it? Isn't that what matters?” April asked genuinely.

Leo looked back down at the comics. His eyes softened while the rest of his expression remained, and he picked Volume 6 up with his good arm. He opened it and silently began to read.

They both sat and read for a while. April noticed Leo struggling to turn pages sometimes, but she didn't dare try to help him. She thought he might bite her hand if she did. He was still scowling at the comic as he read, but it looked less like a scowl of anger and more one of concentration.

When he got done with Volume 6, April spoke. “So, who's your favorite character?”

“...JJ, obviously.” Leo slowly reached out and grabbed the next volume.

“Seriously? That's so basic.”

Leo scoffed. “Really? Then who's your favorite character?”

“Atomic Lass, obvi,” April said, flipping her hair for emphasis.

“Atomic Lass?! Her personality is literally just ‘woman’.”

“Uh, yeah, and that's the point?! Atomic Lad is just ‘man’. Haven't you watched Jupiter Jim on the Atomic Sub-Moon?”

Leo's shoulders lowered. “...watched?”

April sprung up and put her arms on the bed, looking down at Leo in shock. “YOU'VE NEVER WATCHED A JUPITER JIM MOVIE?!”

“NO?! THEY MAKE THOSE?!”

“THAT'S IT!” April grabbed her bag from the floor and moved it over to the side of Leo's bed. “You, keep reading. I'll get one of the boys to watch you. I need to head home and get my box set. We are having a movie night. Understand?!”

“Y-yes ma'am!”

“We can start with Last Trip to the Moon 1, but then we are watching Atomic Sub-Moon, I DO NOT care if the context is lost, you'll figure it out.”

“O-okay?!”

“RAPH!”

----------------------

“So… the real Atomic Lad and Atomic Lass are dead?!”

“Yes! And the Atomic Lad and Lass we know are-”

“People carrying on the legacy, who the Atomic people believe are still the originals?!”

“YES! That's why they never use their real names, that's why-”

“Why they act like Barbie and Ken for space…”

“Now you get it!” April leaned back into her bean bag and put her arms behind her head. The movie night had gone way better than expected. They had to set up the best pillow pile they could, since they didn't have a sofa big enough for everybody. In the end, April and Leo stayed in bean bags and watched the movies while the others went about their day. It took a minute for Leo to get into it, but once the moon buggy showed up, he was hooked. For the first time, April saw a child in Leo. 

“So, have I won you over with an emotional, heart breaking backstory?” April asked slyly.

“Uh, no.”

April's eyes snapped to the slider. “WHAT?! What do you meeean?! I don't get how you like JJ more than Atomic Lass!”

“Well, he's the main character for a reason, for one.” Leo took another bite of the pizza slice he had been eating. “And second, he's the one who always gets everyone out of the bad stuff. He's the hero, and he isn't scared to sacrifice for his crew.”

“But, consider this, Atomic Lass has a giant rocket powered hammer, Leo.”

“JJ doesn't need a weapon. He's got the nerve pinch technique.”

“They never use the nerve pinch technique, though!” April whined.

“That doesn't mean he doesn't have it!”

“I never thought someone could be as dorky as April,” Raph said from where he stood a few feet away from the bean bag setup. “And yet, here we are.”

“Wh- dorky?!” Leo scoffed, looking at Raph incredulously.

“Yeah, dorky!” Mikey popped out from behind Raph's shoulder. “Y'know, nerdy? Geeky? Criiinge?”

Leo's face flushed and he curled in on himself, stammering.

“Hey, y'all are just jealous that we're bonding,” April defended. “If you gave JJ a chance, you'd like it too.”

Raph and Mikey both shut up quick. April waved them off, and they hurried out to the kitchen again, saying they were “getting more snacks”.

Now that they were alone, April looked over at Leo again. “They're stupid. Can't appreciate good media.”

“Good media?” Leo asked. “You mean B-Movies and old comics?”

“Yeah, man.” April grabbed a blanket and tossed it over at Leo, making him fumble to keep it off his face with his good arm. “It makes you feel good, doesn't it?”

Leo looked down and contemplated. “I mean… yeah. But I-”

“Shouldn't?”

Leo took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“You don't have to worry about what you should or shouldn't do here, Leo,” April said, sitting more upright to look at Leo better. “You do what you want. What makes you feel good. That's all you should worry about when you're home. Doing what you want and feeling good.”

Leo turned away, looking at the TV, paused at the end of the credits.

“If it means anything, this really made me feel good,” April said. “It's cool to have somebody to talk about ‘nerd stuff’ with. And I'm glad you liked the movies. Atomic Sub-Moon is one of my favorites. Not as good as Pluto Vacation 4, but good.”

“There's more?” Leo asked timidly.

“Oh, there's loads more!” April grinned. “There's like a jillion Last Trip to the Moons, there's Jupiter Jim and the Overly Complicated Magic System, Jupiter Jim Squared Minus One, Jupiter Jim Breaks into Federal Prison, there's tons! We can have more movie nights, if you want.”

Leo looked at the blanket laying over him, grabbing it and rubbing it between his fingers. “I think… I think I want that.”

April pumped her fist. “Sweet! This means I've still got time to win you over to the Atomic Side.”

Leo let a single laugh escape his lips. “Yeah, not happening. Jim is the best, I don't care what you say. Even Red Fox is better than Atomic Lass.”

“AH! HOW DARE YOU?!” April stood up and looked down at Leo. “Just you wait, nonbeliever. Just wait until I show you the Atomic Lass spinoff comic. Or the Atomic Lass movies. You will change.”

“I wouldn't bet on it.”

“Oh YEAH?! I will bet on it. I'll bet on it so hard, you can call me Troy Bolton.”

Leo's eyes nervously shifted from side to side, centering back on April. “...who?”

“...YOU'VE NEVER SEEN HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL?!”

“NO?!?”

“RAPH!”

○●○●○●○

Yippee! Part 2! Part 3 is giving me more... issues... so it might take a minute to come out. But its coming! 🟪🐢

I really leaned into Leo's inner dorkiness here. I just thought him and April bonding over their obsession with an insane astronaut man was so cute. <3 (This is also why I'm so excited for the rest of Leo's arc in the actual comic! GAH!!!)

Congrats to everyone who won the first round of @tmntaucompetition voting! Very excited for the next round coming up :)

Part 3 -> 💜

[katerinaaqu]

I Take that Back

Set after Rhapsody 11 of Iliad. Odysseus is rushed to his tent to be healed after his rescue by Menelaus. He receives some wholehearted conversations with two close friends.

As he was being half-carried to his tent, Odysseus was groaning in pain holding his still bleeding side. Menelaus had rushed to cover the wound with a piece of cloth but the bleeding was pretty severe especially given his fast heartbeat after the heat of the adrenaline in battle. He had to rely on the strength of his comrade Polites to make sure he wouldn’t damage his body even further. He was already feeling lightheaded from blood loss and now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he had started to feel the burning sensation of the stab wound to his torso. Perimedes was holding his other arm over his nape as they were rushing to his tent to the Achaean camp.

“Quickly! We must get him hot water and stitch the wound!” Polites ordered

He too was painted in blood from battle and his wounded king and the dirt of the camp wouldn’t help a potential infection. Eurylochus met them half-way, looking as pale as Odysseus in worry at that moment.

“What the hell just happened?!”  he asked running to the spot

“Stab wound! We need to treat him!” Polites replied

“How…? Like how the hell…?”

“That…bastard Socus…son of Hippastus…” Odysseus moaned through clenched teeth, “Don’t worry, I had the last laugh…”

“Don’t speak, you idiot!” Eurylochus scolded him taking over the spot Polites had

The latter rushed to the tent to open the way so that the other two would bring the groaning, not to mention bleeding and soaked in sweat king to his bed.

“Quickly! I will need some wine and moldy bread as soon as possible!” Polites ordered, “And, for gods’ sakes; someone bring me clean cloths and boil water!”

“O-On it!” Perimedes rushed out

Odysseus huffed and puffed as the cloth soaked in his blood was drawn away so that a new would be applied and be pressed on. Eurylochus held onto it almost for dear life.

“Dammit!” the king of Ithaca complained trying to stabilize the pain with his breathing

“Come on! Drink this!” Polites advised offering him the skin

Odysseus didn’t need to be told twice before grabbing it and gulp down a few good sips of wine before Polites opened the cloth and poured some of it over the bleeding gash. His king clenched his teeth, hitting his fist to the side of his bed.

“Shit!” he cursed, “I knew this year was not good enough!”

“Got the water!” Perimedes interrupted before Polites had the time to scold his king for inappropriate timing for humor

“Good! Help me cleanse the needle”

Odysseus drew a few more sips from the skin watching his friends frantically work; Perimedes cleansing the stitch with water, Polites passing the needle through the flame and murmuring a prayer to Asclepius while Eurylochus was trying to hold the gaze to his wound. He groaned as Polites began stitching his wound.

“Dammit!”

“Sorry…” Polites whispered, “You have to endure”

“Don’t worry Polites…” Odysseus smirked in his sweat and pain, “I took the spear, I can take the stitch! Argh! Hey! You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t ya?!”

Polites had to master all his willpower not to chuckle and lose his concentration. At least he had his sense of humor. That was a good sign. He thanked all gods he knew that the spear indeed had not harmed any internal organs so all he needed was to patch him up and pray that the wound wouldn’t be infected. He was already applying the moldy bread over the stitch so that he could tie it up when Menelaus rushed into the tent.

“How is he!?” he asked anxiously

He was in terrible shape as he seemed; sweaty and dirty from battle but thank goodness unharmed himself for most part. Polites bowed his head.

“We’re just finishing, my lord…thank goodness nothing seems to be harmed inside”

The king of Ithaca drew another gulp of wine and calmed his breath a bit.

“Don’t worry, Menelaus” he said, “It’s just a scratch. It will heal in time, I am sure. Athena protected me! Socus didn’t stab me deep enough”

“Thank gods!” Menelaus sighed

“How’s Diomedes?” the elder king asked again, assisting Polites at raising himself so that he would bind his wound

“Good. He is being taken care of as we speak.”

“Good” Odysseus voiced sighing a bit, “Otherwise all this effort would have been for nothing! Ouch!”

Menelaus couldn’t help but smirk at that last remark. He did know how much the two of them cooperated. Quite frankly he almost saw Odysseus treating the young king like the son he never had the chance to raise. For one moment his own mind ran back to his daughter; she was a young girl at the age of 9 when they left her. Maybe 10. Right now she would be a woman ready for marriage while he was there, rotting away at war for the sakes of the wife that abandoned them. He snapped out of his melancholy pretty quickly.

“What the hell happened out there?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing!” Odysseus groaned, “What in all gods’ names happened? The Trojans are cutting through like we are cheese and all our efforts seem to be in vain! What the hell happened and none of our prayers gets through?! Why is Zeus so angry at us? First Apollo sent that blasted plague and now this! What the hell happened, Menelaus?”

“How am I supposed to know?!” also Menelaus retaliated, “I am in the dark just like you are!”

“Did your brother say something agai-…ARGH!” his accusation was cut in half as his raising voice put strain to his wound.

He lay back as Menelaus ran at his side as if by instinct.

“No worries…” Odysseus sighed, “I am accustomed to pain… That was on me!”

He sucked some more wine and seemed to calm down a bit. He leaned back to his pillow but eyed Menelaus with those onyx-black eyes of his that made Menelaus feel like he could really scan his very soul!

“Are you sure we didn’t offend anybody else so far? Last time even Diomedes went rampage.”

“Positive. Not to my knowledge at least. I can ask for a council to be gathered.”

“No. Not yet” Odysseus advised, “We suffered a great loss today. We don’t want people to be discouraged even further by thinking we are somehow heading straight for the rocks!”

“You’re right. But what else can we do?”

Odysseus’s intense stare locked with his own eyes again.

“You know what it must be done, Menelaus! We need Achilles! This cannot go on for much longer! Not only he is the strongest warrior among us but he is also the son of a god; he is rumored to be invulnerable in battle! The longer he stays away the worse for us!”

“Achilles is…” Menelaus hesitated, “We tried already. He will not release his anger against my brother”

“Then bloody do something about it!” Odysseus urged, “Today we lost quite a few men! I will not be able to enter the battle for a while and Diomedes will probably earn himself a limp from that foot! Our greatest warriors have suffered a loss, soon the Trojans will be at our bloody doors and Achilles is still chilling by his ships because your brother will not do something about the situation!”

“He already did, Odysseus!”

“Well, tell him to try bloody harder!”

He drew a breath and realized he had spoken out of the line.

“Sorry” he mumbled, “I take that back. I understand Agamemnon made an effort or that Achilles is not the easiest person to deal with. I shouldn’t have said that”

“Don’t apologize” Menelaus sighed as well, “You do have a point. And you just got a spear today isolated from our army and fighting multiple opponents at the same time. You have the right to be furious”

“I am not furious…” Odysseus mumbled absentmindedly, “I am scared”

Menelaus looked at him questionably. That was a rare occasion for Odysseus to speak of fear so openly. He always was the one to say things others didn’t say but not so blatantly honestly especially when he talked about himself.

“I found myself at hades’s doors today… My only thought out there for one moment was that I needed to survive this…that these Trojans wouldn’t make a widow of my wife or an orphan of my son! And the experience made me realize I am afraid…afraid that our efforts; all the years we spent out here in this hell would be for nothing. That they can be severed at any moment and I cannot help but think that all this was caused by one man! That man who has the power to communicate directly with the gods and his anger can be lethal because the anger will be transferred to the gods themselves!”

He wiped some sweat off his wide brow before collecting his thoughts again.

“I saw Diomedes blaze from Athena’s grace, I saw Sarpedon from the other side of the battle…I saw so many heroes out there connected to the gods; even myself, if I am allowed to say so! I have talked to Athena face to face, was privileged enough to call Hermes my bloodline and yet…yet none of these warriors have caused as much damage as Achilles with his rage!”

He banged his fist to the side before covering his mouth with it in thought.

“It is as if our whole existence depends on the mood changes of that man! And the thought terrifies me!”

He eyed Menelaus once more and he realized that Menelaus understood his train of thought. The idea was encouraging that his confession didn’t make the other man uncomfortable or scorning.

“I don’t plan on dying here, Menelaus!” he declared, “Neither do I want to see our efforts go up to smoke because of an internal dispute! I don’t know what you and your brother shall do, but whatever it is, I suggest you to do it faster!”

Menelaus nodded. He couldn’t say much here. Odysseus was right. He himself felt like life would be escaping him at any moment when he saw Odysseus from afar nearly taken over by all those Trojan warriors. For one second he feared that they would be doomed the moment Odysseus’s corpse hit the holy ground of Troy! He felt as terrified as if he were he himself fighting with a spear wound bleeding out of him. They had lost Achilles in one way, since he refused to fight, the thought of losing Odysseus too, and for good that is, was the gloomiest possible outcome he could think of! Occasionally he felt like Odysseus was the only one who kept them together with his sleek tongue and his clever ways (by gods he had nearly persuaded the Trojans to give Helen back without a war!) not to mention that his strategic mind was something they needed. He knew he wasn’t liked by many but he was respected by almost everyone and Menelaus was realizing every day why. The thought of losing him (daresay his closest friend among this bunch of kings) terrified him. He couldn’t even imagine what was going on through Odysseus’s head at the moment he was either bleeding out or ready to be speared to death. He knew how prudent Odysseus was in battle; he preferred to play safe than heroically. He usually entered the battle at the right for him moment; he was a man meant to survive! He couldn’t even imagine how this man, the embodiment of survival to the extreme, might have felt upon the face of death. And how much it affected him to blatantly say that! Odysseus was a proud man. He never admitted weakness like that! Never!

“Hey…” Menelaus smiled playfully to lighten the atmosphere, “I never expected to hear you speak like that! You usually wouldn’t admit weakness before anyone! You nearly bit my brother’s head off when he scolded you for cowardice!”

Odysseus scoffed and shook the sack of wine suggestively.

“Give me some more of this stuff and I might even start flirting with you!”

Menelaus laughed. He couldn’t find a better comeback than that!

“Let’s pretend this dialog never happened, shall we?” Odysseus added, “One embarrassing experience per day is enough for me!”

That earned him another chuckle from the Spartan king.

“Rest well, my friend” he patted the elder king’s shoulder, “You earned it. Heal for now and I shall talk to my brother. I promise…”

Odysseus nodded in a thanking way. Yeah, to be fair there was nothing else that could be done. Both Achilles and Agamemnon were two really hard-headed fellows but he had to admit that Agamemnon had already made his approach. It was Achilles’s utter refusal to accept it that got things stuck again but Agamemnon didn’t try again either. He felt that they might need a miracle to make these two patch things up again! He silently prayed to Athena that this miracle would come soon otherwise their war was doomed to fail. The prophecy stated they needed their strongest warrior if they wished to have some possibility of success and right now Achilles and all his precious Myrmidons were as good as not there. He didn’t like this thought.

“Hey…” Odysseus said stopping Menelaus at his tracks and making him look over his shoulder, “By the way, thanks… You saved my sorry skin out there! Without you I would be gone. Thank you…”

Menelaus nodded softly.

“No need to thank me. You would have done the same”

“Would I?”

Both kings chuckled in union.

“Jokes aside, Odysseus” Menelaus added, “I got scared too out there, today”

Odysseus raised a brow.

“I saw you overwhelmed and I thought you were a goner. My only thought was that if we lost you too the war would be done for… But now I know that it wasn’t just that. I don’t know if I would ever forgive myself if we lost you…because of me… I believe I never felt so scared to lose a friend like I was today…”

Odysseus was at loss of words for the very first time in his long eloquent life; it wasn’t just a soft block in his brain that needed him to regroup; it was a full on delete on any word or response he could possibly give back. His mouth was left agape and his eyes as wide as they could be. That confession also came out of nowhere. The day was becoming curious and curiouser as one would say. He sighed.

“Just get the hell out of here before we both get emotional!” he said defeated, “And send that oaf of a man Ajax my thanks as well! Just don’t make it sound like I am getting soft!”

“I will!” Menelaus chuckled, “Rest assured”

Odysseus collapsed back to his bed when the reddish-blonde king left his tent. Well that was definitely something he never expected. Not only had he nearly died out there but now he seemed to have received the most unexpected deep conversation he had in years with his fellow kings. He and Menelaus always got along better than many out there and both of them knew what it meant to take responsibility for this. They had been through a lot together but never before had Menelaus spoken to him so directly to the heart as now. It was both unexpected and welcome as it couldn’t be more…

“Damn…” he mumbled in thought

*

The frantic sound of limping came to his ears, stirring him from the half-lethargy he was about to fall into, as someone was obviously trying to run through the camp, crushing the little stones of the lane beneath their sandals but obviously the fellow was relying on one foot to do so. Apparently he was right for a few seconds later a sweaty and very much frantic Diomedes rushed into his tent. He had his foot tied up in bandages and he was assisting his running with a wooden stick. He was pale and flushed from running but Odysseus realized it wasn’t because of blood loss but rather of worry.

“Odysseus!” he called out

“Diomedes?”

The king of Ithaca half-raised his body from his bed where he was covered with a fleece to protect him from the cold of the night. He was still dizzy from blood loss but after a good meal and some rest he was already better. Polites was by his side to change the bandage and check on the process of the wound (so far he had very little fever so the wound probably had escaped the worst infection). However the look at Diomedes’s face made him worried.

“What on earth are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be by your ships resting?”

“Never mind about me!” Diomedes called out arriving by his side

Odysseus nodded to one of his slaves to bring Diomedes a stool for the anxious young man was capable of standing there forever!

“They just told me you got hurt after I left!”

“Yeah…that should teach me not to play the hero ever again!” Odysseus joked

“Odysseus!” Diomedes yelled, “That’s not funny! How bad is it?”

“I’m fine, Diomedes” Odysseus sighed, “It is not as serious as it looks. Athena protected me from the worst and Menelaus assured my retreat”

“So I heard! But you got a spear in your bloody stomach!”

“I’m tougher than I look, Diomedes. These Trojan bastards will not rid of me that easily!”

“Dammit, Odysseus!” Diomedes exclaimed

Odysseus blinked. He never had seen Diomedes; the silent but hot-headed Diomedes be so scared or worried before. This kid seemed to be grown beyond his years now he seemed scared as if he had just lost a parent again. Odysseus knew he was touched beyond words. For one moment he wondered indeed how it would feel if he and his son were together.

“You gave up your chariot… You could have run with me and leave your man behind and instead you just gave me your chariot and covered my retreat! You reckless bastard you…you…”

He sighed in defeat.

“What’s gotten into you? You usually were so prudent and careful and now…for my sake you…you…”

“It was a moment of madness, Diomedes, it won’t happen again I am sure!” Odysseus smirked dismissively

“You absolute asshole!” Diomedes exclaimed again, “You could have died out there!”

“Thanks for the incredible faith you have in my fighting abilities you oh-I-am-Athena’s-favorite-Diomedes! It is noted!”

“Why are you so…ugh! You are unbelievable!”

The two kings remained silent for a little. Odysseus didn’t like that silence; he was more used at being the talkative one while Diomedes stood and listened (he never was the talkative type) but now he found himself, once more, at a loss of words. He knew that Diomedes cared but to THAT extent? Well that was refreshing.

“Well…what do you know…” he thought, “Two people really worried about me at the same day… This war really is full of surprises! Most of people keep the respect mask with me if they want to be seen as nice…”

He was about to say something but then Diomedes surprised him once more as his spoke in his low, deep voice.

“And you were right, you know…sometimes it is good to flee…”

“It is better to live and fight another day than to stay there in the open and die like a hero you know… Sometimes retreat is the wisest solution.”

“Noted…” Diomedes replied apprehensively, “When you brought the salvation for me, I nearly didn’t think about it…I just…left”

“As you should” Odysseus said seriously, “You are young and vigorous, Diomedes. Do not throw away your life just like that…besides…” he smirked a bit, “We need you. We need your crazy ass head for this war. We can’t afford to lose you!”

“Oh shut up, will you?” Diomedes sighed dead serious, “You act as if you are dispensable!”

Odysseus smiled a bit. That was Diomedes he knew. His care language was always harsh like that. A child born and raised in war… That was his way to say that he cared.

“Hell, no!” Odysseus replied lightheartedly, “I value my life more than anything in this field! I do not plan on jumping in front of another spear for you if you promise me to be more careful next time! You sometimes are way too self-destructive for my tastes! It is hard enough that I hang out with you at my age!”

Diomedes scoffed.

“Noted…”

“By the way” Odysseus fixed himself on the bed, “How is your foot?”

“Better already. It will heal”

“Not if you keep doing stupid things like this, lad, like coming running at me the moment you hear I got a minor cut!”

“Hey!” Diomedes almost seemed offended, “Well excuse me for wanting to check on you, old man! That surely will not happen again if you so want to!”

Odysseus chuckled a bit and held his side in pain.

“Look at us, lad!” he said, “We are a mess! You became an arrow target and I a spear holder! We sure have future in this war!”

He smiled tiredly watching Diomedes chuckle a bit. When he allowed himself to smile and relax, he almost looked like his age; not like aged a hundred years early. He was happy to get that side out of him once in a while even in the fire of war. They were interrupted by Polites bringing in a cup of warm tea.

“I am sorry to interrupt, my lords…” he excused himself, “Come on, drink this…”

Odysseus took the cup having the most suspicious look at his face as he took a sip he took a disgusted expression as he forced himself to swallow.

“Gods!” he complained draining his cup, “You know I hate sage!”

“Well don’t be such a baby! You need to get your fever down!”

“On second thought, I’d rather die young!”

“Come on now, Odysseus! Aren’t you too old to be a picky eater?” Diomedes chuckled

“Care for a cuppa, Diomedes?” Odysseus challenged, laughing

Polites surely brought another cup for him as well anyways. Diomedes sipped from it absentmindedly. He didn’t mind the scent of sage and the taste was not particularly bad for him, as it seemed. The warmth was welcoming to say the very least, for it was already a cold night.

“My father used to burn this devil…” Odysseus smiled softly

“Yeah…” Diomedes whispered looking at his cup, “They say it repells evil spirits away”

“Yeah…” Odysseus sighed fixing himself under his covers, “I know. That explains why I had the insatiable need to run out of the house every time he did!”

The present men at the tent chuckled softly in union. It was nice to be alive after such a long day. The smell of burning flesh from the outside did not seem to bother them anymore. Quite frankly they had trouble now separating the meal preparations from the funeral pyres.

“Speaking of which…” Diomedes hesitated, “That time…when I called you a coward…”

Odysseus looked at him.

“I take that back….” Diomedes whispered, “I should never have said that to you…”

Odysseus smiled dismissively.

“I have already forgotten about that, Diomedes… Don’t worry. I’ve been called worse…”

“Not by me”

Looking at Diomedes’s eyes made him warm inside. He seemed genuinely serious about it. He would be a liar to himself if he said that he wasn’t relieved that Diomedes decided to apologize. His accusation had hurt him plenty that time, he had to admit. But he wouldn’t tell Diomedes the truth about that. He knew Diomedes was under a great emotional pressure and tension at that time, and he HAD abandoned him as well because he saw his actions were against the will of the gods…

“Forgive me…”

“All good, lad…” Odysseus smiled, “Sometimes is better to be called a coward on the face than being praised as brave in the underworld…”

“Right…” Diomedes chuckled, “But I still…thank you. You saved my life…”

“Don’t thank me, Diomedes…you would have done the same for me. Let’s say that I owed you one…”

Diomedes smiled. Touché, he thought. He reached his belt and extended a small pouch at him.

“Here…brought you some medicine from my own tent. It will help the pain”

“Keep it, son. Your youth needs it more…”

“Please…” Diomedes insisted

Once more he was too touched to refuse. He accepted the pouch and handed it over to a slave that put it away to fix it.

“It is a mix of willow and clove” Diomedes explained, “Your physician will know how to brew it…”

“Thanks, Diomedes…” Odysseus whispered tiredly

His eyelids were getting heavier again. It wasn’t just the fatigue and the blood loss but also this whole emotional turmoil was probably getting a toll out of him. The warmth of the fire in combination with his light fever made things even worse. He wanted to say something to Diomedes, offer him some sort of meal of hospitality but his mouth wouldn’t move.

“Honestly…thank you…” Diomedes whispered, “I would’ve been a goner if you-… Odysseus?”

He looked at the bed to notice the elder king was fast asleep.

“What did you give him?” Diomedes asked Polites worriedly

“No worries, my lord” Polites assured him, “Just some chamomile mixed with the sage and some herbs. It will relax his muscles a bit so he can rest; otherwise he is capable of staying up forever!”

“Will he be alright?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, my lord! I swear to gods this man is immortal! He seems impossible to die sometimes! See this?”

He half-raised the cover to reveal Odysseus’s strong leg. Diomedes perceived the huge scar on his leg; the biggest and most distinct out of all his other micro-scars and wounds.

“Do you know what this is?”

“A hunting accident” Diomedes confirmed, “He told me something about it some years ago”

“Wild boar” Polites confirmed fixing the covers, ��We were hunting at Parnassus. He must have been around 14 maybe 16 at that time? I don’t remember. He stabbed the beast in the shoulder while it was literally plowing his skin!”

“I…” Diomedes thought about it, “He did mention it but I thought he was exaggerating! Like telling a story for the lads to be cheered up”

“Oh, no, I assure you my lord, that part was accurate. I was there where it happened. I partially carried him down the mountain myself. No offense to the high kings but he can be such an idiot sometimes! He makes it sound like no big deal!”

Diomedes smiled absentmindedly. He really liked hanging out with the Cephallinians. Unlike people of Argos who often treated him with scared respect (something like the rest of the kings treated Odysseus, ironically), the Cephallinians seemed to be perceiving Odysseus like a friend; like a father figure.

“So I wouldn’t worry about him too much” Polites smiled softly caressing his reddish beard, “He will be fine”

“I hope so…” Diomedes whispered, “He will be missed otherwise”

“Don’t despair, my lord!” Polites chuckled, “Like I said this bastard of a king and good friend of mine is impossible to die! I have a feeling he will bury us all in the end and outlive us some more!”

Diomedes chuckled and stood back to his feet using his walking stick as assistance.

“I’ll leave you to it, then…” he whispered, “Thanks for the tea”

“Thank you for dropping by, my lord…”

Diomedes moved his hand dismissively before limping away from the tent. Yes, he would need some rest too. He just hoped his foot would allow him to fight for another day and perhaps repay his debt to a good friend…

***

Finally it is over! Hahaha! This random one-shot was inspired by a conversation I had with @still-mourning-polites in regards to Diomedes and Odysseus exchanging words in battle (ironically the conversation started over the age of the hero! Hahaha!)

This is also dedicated to good Diomedes fans like @ellilyre and artists such as @smokey07 and Menelaus supporters and fans such as @dorothea-greek

Odysseus's fear is mentioned in the Iliad how he talks to himself how it would be terrible to die here but he cannot run because of cowardice so he stays. In the Iliad Diomedes also runs away because he got worried of his life but he never knew in what position Odysseus would be driven into, thus my idea here.

I imagined it would be interesting if Odysseus was revealing some of his genune fears to people he trusts like Menelaus (artists including @wolfythewitch also desire more content between Odysseus and Menelaus and I agree!)

Herbs like sage are still used today in Greece for healing fever and infections (the fact that Odysseus doesn't like the taste comes from me! Dunno cannot stand sage! XD maybe I am evil spirit!) Moldy bread has been used to fight back infections for millennias. Some of the earliest examples come from ancient Egypt (basically penicillin before penicilin) hahaha! Also willow tree contains the main component of Aspirin! Hahaha!

Yeah I know that the wine joke with the year has been used hundreds of times including Hunchback of Notre Dame by Disney but I don't care! Hahaha!

Diomedes having a future limp was a headcanon of mine

Maybe also a light wink to my other short thing Philoctetes Inspirations 2 (With the Boar story and all Hahaha)

For their voices I was heavily inspired by @greeknerdsstuff who made a video with the voices of Diomedes and Odysseus! XD

Please do also consider my work with @artsofmetamoor! Recently she posted some amazing pieces of art for our Mythology AU as well!

Goddess Dilla and Hero Caleb

[winchesterwild78]

First Aid pt 2

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, Nurse, mention of other SPN characters.

Warnings: language, SMUT!, angst, alcohol use

A/N: This is a request: I’ve always wondered what a Dean x nurse series would look like in SPN if you ever felt inclined to write one! This will be a short series for my dear sweet friend. 

This will use some characters from Supernatural, but it will not follow the timeline or story. 

Minors DNI 18+

Your alarm rang, waking you up from your peaceful sleep, telling you it was time to get up and get ready for your dinner with Dean. You turned it off, stretched and got out of bed. Dean was going to meet you at the hospital at 6pm, and it was 3pm so you had about 3 hours to get ready. 

You walked in the kitchen and made a cup of coffee and turned on some music. You looked at your phone and saw a text from Dean. You smiled.

Dean: Hello beautiful, I hope you slept well. I wanted to send you a text for you to read when you woke up. I can’t wait to see you later. 

You: Thank you. 😀 Yes, I slept well. I’m up and making some coffee. I can’t wait to see you later either. 

Dean: I’m glad to hear you slept well. Do we really have to wait until 6? 

You: Well, I need to shower and get dressed, I don’t see why we can’t meet earlier.

Dean: Really?! That’s great. I’ve been thinking about that kiss all day. I can’t wait to kiss you again. 

You: I can’t wait either. So if we’re throwing appropriateness out the window, do you want to just come over to my place? We could hang out and then go to dinner.

Dean: Yeah, sure. I’d like that. Only if you’re comfortable with me coming over.

You: I wouldn’t have invited you if I wasn’t. I’m going to jump in the shower then I’ll send you the address. 

Dean: You could always take a shower while I’m there. 😉

You: Funny, I won’t be long. I promise.

Dean sat at the table and smiled. “What’s got you grinning like that?” Sam asked as he looked up from his laptop. “We’re meeting earlier than 6. I’m heading to her place soon.” “Ah, now I understand. I still can’t believe she’s letting you go to her house. You could be a psycho.” Sam chuckled. “Shut it, Sammy.” Dean laughed. 

You jumped in the shower and washed your hair and body. Your mind was wandering back to the kiss you shared and how Dean’s hands felt on your body. You could feel yourself getting aroused. As your hand ran over your body you slid your hand between your thighs. Your fingers lightly brushed in between your folds and across your engorged clit. Your breath hitched as you touched it again. 

You removed your hand knowing you didn’t have time to give yourself a proper release. As you rinsed off you thought about how Dean’s hand would feel on you. You shook your head trying to clear your mind. When you got out you dried off and put on your black lace bra and matching panties, jeans, and Led Zeppelin t-shirt. 

You dried your hair and put it up in a messy bun and applied light makeup. You sent Dean a text.

You: Hey, I’m dressed, my address is 123 Apple Street. See you soon?

Dean: Yes! But you didn’t have to get dressed, sweetheart.

You: Yes I did. I was cold. 😉

Dean: I’ll be there soon, I can warm you up.

You smiled as you put your phone down. You looked in your fridge and saw you had some beer, bottled water, and wine. Hopefully he drinks something you already have. 

About 15 minutes later there was a knock at your door. You looked through the peephole and saw Dean. You took a deep breath and opened the door. He smiled at you as you opened the door. “Hey sweetheart. Don’t you look gorgeous.” You blushed a little and thanked him.

You stepped to the side to let him come in. “Welcome to my home, Dean. Please make yourself comfortable. I figured we could sit in the living room if you wanted, or I can give you a tour.” Dean took your hand and smiled, “Breathe.” He placed a soft kiss on your lips. 

You smiled at him, “Thank you. I’m a little nervous. Let’s start with a tour.” Dean smiled and took your hand, “Lead the way, sweetheart.” You showed him the kitchen, living room, dining room, backyard, the guest room, bathroom, and then you showed him your room. “This is my bedroom and my bathroom.” 

You stepped in and Dean followed you. He looked around and took in your room. “You’ve got a beautiful home, Y/N. Thank you for showing me around.” You looked at him and smiled, “Thank you Dean.” Both of you stood in your room for a few minutes just staring at each other. 

You bit your lip and stepped closer to Dean. He stepped closer and put his hands on your waist. He pulled you flush with his body and captured your lips in a kiss. You moaned in his mouth and he deepened the kiss. You both pulled away gasping for air. 

Your lips and lungs were on fire as heat crept across your face. You could feel the arousal through your body just from his touch and kiss. You could feel his arousal on your thigh as he pulled you close to him. 

You looked into his eyes and saw they were darker than they were before. He was clearly aroused and his body was responding to yours. You swallowed hard as one of his hands gripped your hip and the other slid up your back and into your hair, pulling you into his lips. The kiss was urgent and filled with need and lust. 

You returned the kiss, matching his passion. Your hands went behind his neck and into his hair. You both moaned and Dean spun you around, leading you back to the bed. He lightly tossed you on the bed, “Is this okay?” You shook your head yes, not trusting your words. 

Dean hovered over you and kissed you again. His lips trailed down your jaw, onto your neck where he was leaving little bites in the crook of your neck. Your head tilted back and you moaned loudly. Dean smirked against your skin. 

“Dean, I…ugh” You couldn’t get your words out. Dean looked up at you and stopped kissing, “Do you want me to stop, sweetheart?” “No, yes, ugh! I don’t…” Was all you managed to say. Dean leaned up, “Sweetheart, I will stop if you don’t want this.”

“Dean, I do want this, I just don’t want you to think I do this all the time. The last patient I hooked up with was a few years ago, and we dated for over a year. That ended badly. It’s not appropriate for me to get involved with a patient, but I couldn’t help myself with you.”

“Look, how about we go back into the living room and hang out. I’m not in any hurry and I want you to be comfortable.” “That sounds perfect, Dean. Thank you.” You placed a soft kiss on his lips and he offered you his hand helping you up. He pulled you into his embrace and held you for a minute. You took a deep breath and inhaled his intoxicating scent. 

The two of you went to the living room and spent the next few hours talking, laughing and getting to know each other. His smile was absolutely gorgeous and his laugh, oh it was the best thing in the world to hear. You found yourself wanting to hear it. When he laughed he used his whole body, and around his eyes would crinkle a little bit. 

You told him more about your family and your childhood. You learned more about his traveling around the country with his dad and brother. He likes whiskey, doesn’t smoke, loves his car, which he calls baby, and the necklace he wears was a gift from his brother one Christmas when they were kids. 

You smiled because he looked so rough, but he definitely was a big teddy bear. You could tell he was kind, had a big heart, and would fight for those he loved. Dean could definitely be a man you could see yourself falling in love with. 

As the day wore on, you soon realized it was almost 7pm. The two of you had spent most of the afternoon just talking. “Damn it, I didn’t realize what time it was. Do you want to try to head out, or are you okay with takeout? The chinese restaurant around the corner is amazing.” “Takeout is fine with me, sweetheart.” “Great! I’ll call it in.” 

Dean nodded and you stood up to grab your phone and call in the food. You didn’t notice he was watching you while you moved around effortlessly. He smiled a little. You were on the phone placing the order when you noticed Dean stand and walk over to your pictures that hung on the wall. His back was to you, but you noticed his shoulders hang a little. 

When you hung up you walked over to him, breaking his concentration on the photos. “You okay, Dean?” He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, “Yeah, I just wish we sometimes our family pictures survived the fire. I have one picture of my mom.” You touched his arm offering him a sympathetic look, “I understand, you can always take pictures now, of you, Sam, your dad, and anyone else in your life who’s important to you.” 

He turned and faced you, cupping your face with his hand and smiled. “Like you?” You blushed and bit your lip, “I wouldn’t object.” Dean pulled out his phone and took a picture of you, then he came around you, wrapped his arm around your chest and pulled you close to him. He placed his chin on your shoulder and snapped a picture of the two of you. 

You looked at the picture and saw how big both of your smiles were. “Can you send that to me, please?” You asked softly. He kissed your cheek, “Sure, sweetheart.” You felt that undeniable feeling creeping in your chest and it scared the hell out of you. You cannot fall for this guy! He’s your patient, and he doesn’t live here. You are NOT going to fall for him. He isn’t sticking around. 

The two of you sat down on the couch and you tried to direct the conversation to neutral topics. “So, Dean, how’s your chest feeling? Any issues with the stitches?” Oh great, now I’m thinking about his chest, and how it would look hovering over me, rising and falling with his heavy breath. How his hot breath would feel on my skin. Sticky and wet from sweat after making love. DAMN IT! STOP! 

“It’s doing good. No issues, should you examine me to make sure?” He said with a wink. Flush filled your cheeks and you couldn’t speak. You bit your lip, “If you want me to take a look I can.” Shit! What are you doing, his stitches are fine, you know they are. You just want to touch his toned chest again. Run your fingers up and down his chest, trace his biceps… “Y/N, you okay? You look a little flustered”, Dean chuckled. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You swallowed hard. Dean removed his shirt and you saw his bandage needed to be changed. “Dean, you should have changed this already.” “Why would I when I have the best nurse ever taking such good care of me?” He smiled, you blushed and damn it your thighs clenched together. 

“Let me get my stuff, I’ll put a clean dressing on this. Um, could you go lay on the bed? It’ll be easier to bandage this with you laying flat.” “If you wanted to get me in your bed, all you had to do was ask. You don’t have to play nurse.” You playfully rolled your eyes and headed towards the main bathroom. Dean went to your room. 

When you walked in your room your breath got caught in your throat. The sun was setting, so the warm glow of the evening sky danced through the curtain and landed perfectly across his tan kissed skin. You could make out the faint freckles on his chest and his face. He was laying on your bed with both arms behind his head. Showing off his gorgeous frame, his strong biceps, and his jeans hugged thighs.

You bit your lip hard and stifled a moan. Dean smirked and raised an eyebrow. Shit! He heard you. You removed his bandage and checked his stitches and cuts. Everything looked great. As your fingers danced across his skin, you noticed goosebumps erupting down his torso. Placing the new bandage on his skin, you noticed he had an even bigger problem. He was aroused and the position he was in did little to hide it. 

As you stood up, Dean grabbed your hand. “Thank you, sweetheart. I really appreciate you taking care of me. Can you come back?” You nodded and turned to clean up. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your breathing picked up. Once in the main bathroom you looked at yourself in the mirror and your eyes were dark with lust. Dean had to have seen it too. 

You walked back to the bedroom trying to steady your breath. You took one deep, shaky breath and let it out. Standing at the doorway you looked at Dean. He had turned to his side and was on one elbow waiting for you. 

You walked over to the bed and laid beside him. Dean pulled you close to him and wrapped his arms around you. He kissed you, eliciting a moan from you. Your body was responding to him and his to yours. The need to be together was overwhelming the both of you. 

His hand played with the hem of your shirt and disappeared under it. He felt the lace on your bra and smirked. You leaned up and removed your shirt, leaving you in your black lace bra. Dean growled as he laid you on your back and hovered over you. 

He started kissing down your neck, biting you softly. His hand carefully went under you and unhooked your bra. Before pulling it off he stopped and looked at you, you nodded and he removed it. Your breasts sprang free from the confines of the material. Dean’s hands and mouth were on this as soon as the bra hit the floor. 

Your head tilted back and you grabbed his hair. “Oh Dean, that feels so good.” As Dean licked and sucked your breasts, you could feel your panties getting wet. 

“You think that feels good, just wait.” He grinned. You clenched your thighs together. Dean worked his way down to your jeans. He looked up at you and you nodded. He unbuttoned and unzipped your pants. Hooking his fingers in the belt loops he pulled them down, leaving you in your lace panties. Dean bit his lip and looked up at you. You smirked at him. “Damn, girl, lace bra and panties. I think you were hoping I’d see them.” You smiled, “Maybe.”

Dean started pulling your panties down, looking up at you with lust in his eyes. You lifted your hips slightly and he pulled them off, tossing them on the floor. Dean started kissing up your legs and held your thighs firmly in his hands. 

He parted your folds, seeing how wet you were. “All this for me?” “Mmhmm,” you moaned. Dean’s fingers brushed over you and you bucked your hips. 

*Knock, knock, knock* “Shit! Dean mumbled as he got up. “It must be dinner” You said, pulling the sheet over you. “If you grab my wallet I have cash for the food.” You told Dean as he pulled on his shirt. “No, I’ve got it sweetheart.” You pulled the sheet around you and leaned against the pillows and headboard. You could feel your arousal running down your folds and onto the bed. You bit your lip thinking about what was to come.

Dean thanked the driver and took the food, closing the door. He sat the food in the kitchen and came back into the bedroom. 

“So do you want to eat now, or?” Dean smiled. “Dean, you better get your ass back in this bed with me.” “Yes, ma’am.” He smiled as he pulled off his shirt. As he started to climb back in the bed you stopped him, “Uh no, you’re overdressed.”  You smiled and he growled. Dean slid off his pants and his boxers. His long, thick cock sprang free. Your walls clenched around nothing and your breath hitched at the sight of his length. 

Dean laid on the bed, “I want you to ride my face.” “What?” You asked with a mixture of shock and arousal. Dean cupped your face and pulled you close, “Ride my face. Let me taste you until you cum all over my face.” You bit your lip nervously and looked down. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Dean asked. “I’ve never done that before, what if I smother you? I’d hate to have to explain to the paramedics I work with that I suffocated you while riding your face.” Dean chuckled, “I promise I’ll be okay, sweetheart, but if you’re not comfortable we don’t have to.” 

“No, I want to, just promise if it gets too much you’ll let me know.” “Yeah, I promise.” You nodded and Dean laid down. You climbed up and carefully placed your legs on either side of Dean’s head. His arms wrapped around your thighs as he started to pull you down. “Relax, sweetheart. I promise I’ll be fine.” Dean took his tongue and licked up your pussy to your clit. You moaned and moved your hips. 

Grabbing the headboard to steady yourself, you relaxed a bit more as Dean pulled you further down. He started to lick and suck your clit. You moaned and threw your head back. “Oh fuck, Dean, don’t stop.” You rocked your hips chasing your release. “Oh Dean..I’m close.” Dean grabbed you tighter, pulling you down as he lapped at your pussy. Your release hit you faster than you expected. You grabbed the headboard and screamed as you came hard on Dean’s face.

Dean felt your release and kept licking and sucking. His grip tightened as he held you in place. As you got overly sensitive Dean stopped and let you get up. When you looked down at Dean he was smiling. His cock was rock hard. 

You reached over Dean and grabbed a condom from the side table, holding it up and showing him and he nodded. Dean took the condom, opened it and slid it down his shaft. 

“Lay down, sweetheart. Relax that beautiful body of yours.” You laid down beside him and he leaned over kissing you. You tasted your release on his lips. Dean climbed between your legs and slid them apart with his legs. He gently lifted your legs up and put the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“Are you ready?” “Yes, I am. Please, Dean. I need you.” Dean slowly slid in. As he pushed in you both moaned. He stopped, “Are you okay?” You shook your head yes. He was a lot bigger than you’d ever had. Dean pushed in the rest of the way, bottoming out, causing you to gasp and moan. The moan that came from your lips was one of pure pleasure. You had no idea you could moan like that. 

Dean set a steady pace. Pulling out and pushing back in, each time stretching you and filling your body with pleasure. Your hands ran over his back and on his biceps. Your nails dig into his arm, leaving half moon shaped indentations. 

Dean leaned down, capturing your lips with his while he took you closer to your second release. His head dipped into the crook of your neck, “Damn you feel so good, baby, so fucking tight. I’m not going to last much long.” You bucked your hips into him and he put your legs on his shoulders, changing positions and pushing faster. The sounds of pleasure filled the air. Your moans mixed with Dean’s grunts in a beautiful symphony. Your second release was close, “Oh Dean, I’m gonna.. cum.” You came hard, your walls squeezing around his shaft. His pace picked up as he slammed deeper into you and soon his pace stumbled. He came hard, spilling his seed into the condom. He grunted and leaned his forehead on yours as he took your legs down off his shoulders. 

As he started to soften he removed slowly and carefully laid your legs down on the bed. He kissed your lips and stood to go into the bathroom. He cleaned himself up and brought in a washcloth to help clean you up. He gently cleaned you up and tossed the cloth back into the bathroom. 

He climbed back in the bed with you and pulled you into his arms. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” “Yes, more than okay. That was amazing, Dean.” Dean smiled, “Yes it was. Thank you.” The two of you laid in each other’s arms for a while, no words were necessary, but the way he held you told you everything you needed to know. You felt safe in his arms, like he would always protect you.

A little while later the two of you got dressed and went to eat dinner. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you while you ate. Dean broke the silence, “This really is good. I don’t think I’ve had Chinese food this good, ever, and trust me I’ve had a lot.” You laughed, “I told you it was really good.” 

“So, Dean, what exactly do you do for work? I know that really wasn’t a bear that clawed you. I’ve seen my fair share of bear attacks, and those were not caused by bear claws.” Dean looked at you and got a very serious look on his face. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry, Dean. I overstepped. It’s not my business.” “No, it’s not that. If I tell you, it might change things, and I really like being with you.” 

You stood up, walked over to him and cupped his face, “Dean, you can tell me anything you’re comfortable with. I promise it won’t change things.” Dean ran his fingers through his hair, “So my dad, Sammy and I hunt things. Not deer or bears, but monsters. All of it is real, vampires, demons, werewolves, you name it, it’s all real. This tattoo on my chest prevents me from being possessed by demons. My last name isn’t Smith, it’s Winchester. Our mom was killed in a house fire, but it was caused by a demon that was in Sammy’s nursery. Mom died protecting him.” You stood there staring into his green eyes. Not sure why but you believed him. Taking his hand you pulled him up to you. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Winchester.” You smiled and placed a kiss on his lips. 

As he pulled back he looked surprised, “You believe me?” “For some reason I do. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me the truth.” Dean nodded and pulled you close to him. “That would explain all the scars and bullet holes on your body.” You said as you touched his arms. “Yeah, this line of work is dangerous.”

The rest of the evening Dean spent telling you stories about hunts they had been on and his extended family of hunters, Bobby and Jody. You listened intently, but with a heavy heart. He wasn’t kidding when he told you his job was dangerous. Your heart panged thinking something could happen to him. “So now you see why I need such a good nurse with me.” He winked and pulled you closer to him. 

You straddled his lap and leaned down, capturing his lips. “Dean, have you ever thought about giving it up, living a normal life?” “Yeah I have, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me.” “You never know, things might change.” Dean smiled at you and pulled you closer to him, “Maybe, sweetheart. Maybe.”

“So when do you and Sam go on the road again?” “We’re supposed to head out in a few days.” Your heart dropped. You knew this would be too good to be true. Dean noticed your body language change. You stood up and started to walk into the kitchen. He grabbed your hand but you pulled away. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” “Nothing. I guess I was hoping for something that isn’t possible.” 

You walked in the kitchen as the tears ran down your face. Dean walked in behind you and you quickly wiped the tears away. “Hey, shhh, don’t cry. Please.” Dean pulled you into his chest and held you tight. 

You pulled away, “I’m sorry. I knew getting involved with a patient was a bad idea. I’ve had a wonderful time with you, Dean, but I think it’s best if you go.” Dean stood looking at you a mixture of hurt and surprise flashed in his eyes. “Okay, I understand. I’ll see myself out. Thank you for dinner. Good night, Y/N.”

You couldn’t look at him, your head hung down and you looked at your feet, “Good night, Dean.” He walked over and placed a soft kiss on your head and gently brushed your arm. 

He grabbed his jacket and walked out the door. You braced yourself against the counter and sobbed. You knew getting involved with a patient was against the rules for a reason. Especially in the ER. Patients come in and leave, some are local but some aren’t. Dean isn’t a local. You knew it was stupid, but you couldn’t help it. 

An hour later you were sitting on your couch nursing your broken heart with a glass of whiskey. Well, your 3rd, but who’s counting? You grabbed your phone and scrolled through the texts he’d previously sent you and your heart fluttered and ached. When you saw the photos you two took together the tears fell again. 

You grabbed your glass and threw the amber liquid back. The warm feeling running down your throat. When the glass was empty, you grabbed the bottle and chugged. 

Opening your text messages you sent Dean a text. You would never drunk text a guy, but the alcohol made you lose all control.

You: dean why did you do it

Dean: Do what sweetheart?

You: you know what you did you made me feel something then left me

Dean: Y/N, you asked me to leave. I didn’t want to leave.

You: yes you did you hunt monsters and you left me you left

Dean: Y/N, you’re not making any sense. Are you okay?

You: whiskey

Dean knew you were drunk. His hands ran through his hair and down his face. He let out a huge sigh. 

Dean: sweetheart, get some sleep and put the whiskey away. I’ll come by tomorrow.

You: fine but don’t expect me to fuck you again

Dean: I know sweetheart, please get some sleep. 

You: I just want to know why did you make me fall if you weren’t going to catch me.

Dean read your text and gasped. You didn’t come out and say it, but you said it. He felt a connection to you too, but damn it. He had to keep you safe. This life was not safe for you. He didn’t know what to say. You were drunk, but he knows people are always more open when they drink. 

Dean: I promise, I’ll catch you. We will talk tomorrow. Get some sleep.

Part 3

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