#but i do think leaving the subject out of the sentence would be pretty familiar to do in japanese as well

[merge-conflict]

wip wednesday

got tagged by @wanderingaldecaldo :3

been.. well not exactly procrastinating on the longfic. some of what i've been doing is working on some sequel scenes so I can anchor where everyone is going to end up and make sure I haven't forgotten to add any threads I'm going to want to use later. so with the knowledge that this scene will almost certainly not survive in its current form when I get there...

---

V returned with the woman who had met her at the ofrenda– his interface confirmed what he already knew– it was Guadalupe Alejandra Welles herself. She was smaller than he had expected, but it would be a mistake to underestimate her, he was certain. A woman who had suffered the loss of her son in an assault on Arasaka and was bold enough to then track him down and demand that loss be honored was not someone to to be taken lightly. He rose to his feet to greet them.

“Mamá,” V said, speaking Spanish in a low, soft tone he’d never heard from her before. “This is Takemura.”

“Escorted you personally?” Guadalupe regarded him with restrained disapproval. “What a gentleman.”

“A perfect gentleman,” V said, a faint smile forming on her lips.

“It is good to meet you,” Goro said, with a polite bow.

Guadalupe made a dismissive gesture, switching to English. “There’s only one thing I need to know: were you the one that killed my son?” She held his gaze without flinching.

“No,” he said. “We did not meet.”

“Good.” She relaxed, and in so doing gave him a glimpse of the exhausted and grieving woman underneath her steely composure. V looked mortified and miserable with guilt, and she added more gently, “Sit down, mije.”

V looked to Goro and he moved instinctively, gently guiding her to sit down at the bench he had just vacated. Her hand on his wrist lingered, the barest pressure pulling him down along beside her: gravity which he did not want to escape. She leaned in and pressed her forehead against his, jaw clamped together so tightly he heard her teeth creaking. He wanted to reassure her that she did not have to hide her tears, but did not trust his voice.

“Jesucristo. You’re as big a fool as Jackie. Bigger.”

[spacebarbarianweird]

headcanons or one-shot (pick your poison!) of astarion and gn!tav celebrating midwinter/winter solstice together? technically, it does exist as a holiday in the forgotten realms! blessed yule as well! :D

I suppose this prompt can't wait forever so here we are. A short fluffy drabble.

Prompt ✶New Beginnings✶ for BG3 Winter Holiday Challenge

Thanks @bhaalbaaby for beta-reading! Especially for re-writing some sentences!

I fucked a bit and didn't notice the requester asked specifically for gn!reader and did f!reader as usual. So, this one is f!reader and I will do gn! later

Winter Solstice

Synopsis: Astarion and Tav spend Winter Solstice in the northern town of Firesheer, and the subject of marriage comes up.

Tags: fluff, comfort

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

You are freezing.

You've never been so far to the north, and you have never understood why people were afraid of winters.

Now, you do.

It's Nightal, 20. The longest night of the year. And probably the coldest, because the only thing you can think of, is how to get inside the inn and hide under fur blankets.

Till snow melts.

You look around. People of Firesheer are festive as if the cold doesn't bother them. They sing and dance, resting after months of hard work in the mines.

You put your hand inside the pockets of your traveler fur coat, golden coins jingling in the pockets. The only redeemable quality about this frozen hell is the danger always lurking. The city is always under attack: orcs, crag cats, giants. Though citizens have their army, they don't mind paying adventurers rather than risking their own people.

"Bracelets! Rings! Necklaces! All of the finest copper and silver!" A dwarf shows you his goods, "Take a look, traveler!"

You look disinterested as you take a look at the jewelry, shrugging at the selection.. You can wear silver things, but Astarion won't talk to you anymore if you put on something like that. Meanwhile copper... He would find it dull.

"No, not interested."

"This is copper of the best quality! Will last for generations!"

You chuckle. There is a very popular joke about things made by dwarves. They think humans are dumb to buy something that lasts only for four generations. Forgetting that the human generation lasts less than a century.

"Look at these bronze rings. They are engraved with protective runes!"

The ring is simple. but there is something elegant, something powerful about it. You look at the runes - "protection", "love", and "safety".

"I will take this one", you say.

"Oh no," the dwarf laughs. "This is a wedding ring, you need two. Unless there are more people involved."

And before you manage to object, both rings are placed in your palm.

And why in nine hells did you decide to buy them?

You've never discussed marriage with Astarion. Boundaries? Traumas? Feelings? Yes. Sometimes, you talk about the future. But such things as marriage never came to your mind.

You have no idea what he thinks about it. You have no idea what you think about it.

But now you have two wedding rings in your pocket. Dwarven bronze will last for centuries.

You look around, trying to notice the familiar silver curls. Astarion has gone to see the ocean at sunset, and you agreed to meet in the city at midnight.

“Darling, there is something utterly nightmarish about a dark cold ocean."

You refused to go. Astarion is already dead - he can even swim there if he desires (the ocean isn't running water, so he will be fine). You, on the other hand, want to keep this heart beating.

Suddenly, a drunk man blocks your way.

"Leave me alone," you mutter, putting a hand on your dagger hidden below the cloak.

"Why is a beautiful woman alone? It's a sin to be on your own at the Winter Solstice."

You step back. The man is much bigger than you, but he can barely stand on his feet. If you were out of the city, you could snatch your dagger - but within the walls, fighting isn't wise.

"So, what d'ya think, pretty girl?" he reaches out for your chin, but before his dirty hand touches your skin, the man is pulled away from you.

"Hands away from my wife", Astarion hisses. "Or I will turn you inside out and feed the crag cats!"

The man recoils. "I-I beg your pardon, didn't know she is... taken."

"Fuck off," Astarion is quiet, but you know - one false move and the vampire will rip his throat.

The man stumbles and walks away as fast as he can. “Thanks”, you mutter, still feeling scared. "How was the ocean?"

"Dark. Cold. Frightening," He wraps his hand around your waist and tugs you closer. There is something possessive in this gesture. You don't mind. "Come on, we have the longest night ahead!"

You shiver.  Night plans are set in stone. Astarion cherishes the nights when he can walk freely and see the world not hiding in shadows, and he rarely wants to walk alone. Besides, you already abandoned him when he went to the seashore. You can't leave him alone again for the rest of the night.

You walk through the city square. The songs are loud and lively, and the festive mood warms you up. Or maybe this is Astarion's presence. You plant a kiss on his cheek and notice he stiffens.

"Let's go somewhere less crowded," you suggest.

Maybe he is afraid people will notice he is a vampire. Maybe big crowds remind him of his hunting spots - who knows how many drunk idiots he would drag to their deaths during the same festivals. 

You walk together in silence until the houses disappear. The winds howl like hungry wolves. The snow reaches up to your ankles.

Astarion kneels and you notice he tries to make a snowball but the snow crumbles in his hands.

"I see what you are doing," You say, "Don't you dare"

"I was just touching snow," He smiles innocently.

You put your hands deeper into the pockets and feel the bronze rings. Wedding rings.

"When that man approached me, you called me your wife."

Astarion turns away as if trying to see something in the distance. "Never mind, just slipped off my tongue."

"Why did you call me that?"

"I am sorry to have offended you with such vulgar words."

"That’s not what I mean. Just weird, considering we have never officiated anything."

"Do you want me to kidnap a cleric and make him marry us? I don't know... I just... " he sighs. "We sleep together. You care about me, and I care about you. I want to be with you until your mortal days are over or until I am killed by some monster hunter."

"And how long have you seen me as your wife?"

He shrugs. "The night in the graveyard, when I realized I'd never truly experienced real lovemaking? When you found me in that cellar, hiding from the sun, and kissed away my fears and pain? One of those nights when I woke you up, screaming, and you held me until the nightmare finally let me go? What about you? Have you ever thought about me as your husband?"

"I mentally married you when you tried to slice my throat. But, I realized you were mine when I noticed you standing between me and danger for the first time,” You say, stepping closer to your love. 

“So, what now?" he asks.

You grin, playfully pushing Astarion into the snow. He either expects that or simply decides to play along.

You straddle Astarion, taking in his expression. He smiles - a very rare joyful smile when he doesn't try to pretend or to laugh things away. It's the real him you saw for the first time on his grave. It's the real him you see in the darkness of the tent when he thinks you are still asleep. The real him who somehow survived his own death.

"What are you up to, little pet?" he grins.

You snatch the rings from your pocket, quickly taking his left hand.

"Will you marry me?" 

You wait for his reaction. Sometimes even the most sincere forms of affection cause him mental pain, and he locks himself inside the shell. Once, he couldn't bring himself to talk to you because you tried to force him to stay inside the tent during a snowstorm.

Maybe it's too much, you think, ready to let him go. It's not like he doesn't like being dominated by you, but it depends on his mood.

"How could I say no?" He grins, allowing you to put the ring on.

You giggle like a little girl, leaning down to kiss him.

"There is supposed to be a second one," He notices when you pull away.

You give him the other ring, and he graciously takes your hand. Before putting the ring on it, he kisses your wrist and pierces it a bit with his fangs.

You sit like that for a while, looking at each other. Gods, does he even know how truly beautiful he is?

Your love. Your man. Your husband.

The winds howl again, and you shiver.

"Seldarine. Why didn't you tell me you are so cold?"

"Didn't want to ruin the longest night for you."

"Really? So you decided to ruin the next two weeks for me because you will get sick, and I will have to take care of you?” he chuckles. “Besides, we are married now, and I don't have any excuse to leave you!"

 "Oh, I would never think I was such a burden to my husband!" you pout.

The next moment you are in his hands. You love being carried like that, especially knowing you are weightless to him.

"You are the most insufferable sweet burden I've ever wished to have, my little wife," he kisses you. "I suggest we return to the inn and consummate our marriage."

You giggle again and wrap your hands around his neck.

"As long as you offer me a hot bath as a wedding gift."

"It absolutely can be arranged, my dear!" 

--

Nightal ("The Drowing Dawn") - the last month of the year. Winter Soltice is celebrated on Nightal, 20.

Firesheer - a mining city in the Frozenfar in northwest Faerûn

Seldarine (Elven) - Gods

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @longislandcharm, @realmackross TIMING: The night of July 29th (after the sleepover) SUMMARY: Winter and Mack have a heart-to-heart after the nightmare Barbie themed sleepover. WARNINGS: death mention tw, murder mention tw

Winter was still reeling from the events of this Barbie sleepover, so much so that she was still on the living room floor after everyone else had already left. She wanted to talk to Mack; she just didn’t know how to really broach this subject. Still, sitting on your dead friend’s floor for hours after she came back to life and ate a bunch of brains probably wasn’t the best way to cope. Talking. Talking was a good thing, right? 

The medium finally stood up from her very comfy safe place, her ghost friend actually looking a little concerned as she made her way through the house looking for Mack. She hadn’t been here before so nothing was familiar but luckily she found the other girl in what she presumed was the master bedroom. Standing in the doorway, Winter cleared her throat to alert Mack of her presence. “So…that was something.” Her ghost raised an eyebrow and she shrugged at it. What else could she say? It wasn’t like you could comfort a woman who had just taken a swan dive in front of everyone and showed off her magical healing powers. 

Moving into the room, Winter clasped her hands together in front of her while she searched for something else to say. She definitely couldn’t relate to this so it was difficult. “I get why things were a little complicated for you now. I guess it just takes a night of mayhem and weird to really understand someone else sometimes.” She paused, biting the inside of her lip before sighing. “You want to talk about it?”

—

Mackenzie felt like any resemblance of a life she had was over. Everyone knew what she was, and from there she felt like it was going to be so easy to piece together that she was the one who killed Brody. She didn’t know what to do. After the way things had ended, all she had wanted was for everyone to leave. Lonely had become her middle name, and she felt like nothing more than someone you’d see being portrayed in a Lifetime movie.

Laying in her bed with the covers pulled up to her neck, Mack refused to move. She had still been in the same clothes she had died in and hadn’t felt like washing the extra stench of death off. What was the point anyways? But what she didn’t expect was to hear a familiar voice at the doorway of her bedroom.

Without acknowledging Winter, Mackenzie let out what sounded more like a pitiful squeak of a sentence than anything else, “What’s there to talk about? Now, you know why I left.” Her vision was still somewhat blurry and the bruising around her neck remained. It was going to take a while to fully heal from this one, and she’d probably have to eat again in a little while, but at least she was in an almost normal state of mind again. Slowly turning her head, she looked to Winter, “Aren’t you afraid I might eat you? There won’t be anyone here to save you or your ghost this time.” She had finally acknowledged the man standing next to Winter as only what she could assume him to be.

—

“Yea…still could have called.” Her lips quipped at her own joke but somehow she didn’t think Mack would appreciate the comment. Amusing herself wasn’t a bad thing though, especially after the night they’d had. “Well, you already tried to eat me once and you were pretty damn slow. I’m sure I can find some sort of weapon or even run away. You’re like one of those George A. Romero zombies. I never could figure out how people couldn’t outrun them.” Rambling was not a usual trait that Winter had but it was hard when one had no idea what one was talking about. It was unusual not knowing what to say. 

“Not that I know how this works or anything but didn’t you just eat? Should I be worried?” Winter bit her bottom lip, suddenly a little nervous as she stayed rooted into place. No need to get any closer if she had to worry that the girl might lunge at her. The last thing she needed to worry about was becoming a ghost herself. Who would translate how pissed she was at Mack if she were part of the afterlife?

“Wait.” Something Mack said had just registered and even more confusion set in if that were even possible. “You can see him? Have you been able to see him this whole time?” As if she needed further proof that the world she’d stepped into when coming to this town was vast and she had no idea what she was dealing with. This was the second person that could see the person following her around and Winter wondered if it had something to do with the town or something else was at play here. 

—

Mackenzie wasn’t amused by Winter’s smartass remarks. And she turned her head back the other way to stare at the wall, the colors and patterns of her wallpaper running together, “So that’s what I look like.” It was a very self-aware moment for the young zombie, since she was pretty much brain dead when she was that bad off. “Guess I won’t have to find a mirror now.” Her tone was flat, no insinuation that she was making a joke or being sarcastic.

Should she be worried? Mackenzie wanted to say no, but she honestly wasn’t sure at this point. She had only ever died once. This was a new experience for her, and it had felt somewhat different than before, “I don’t know. I didn’t feel like this the last time I died. I was hungry, but I don’t know. I would just stay where you’re at, so you can leave if you need to.” She didn’t want to hurt someone else she loved.

At the word wait, Mack set her glazed over gaze back on Winter, “Yeah. I can see him and his gross looking arm.” She set her eyes on him, “Sorry.” before looking back to Winter. “I’m dead, remember? I just have a bit more of a form than he does. But it’s not like I could tell you for obvious reasons.” Turning over slowly, she made sure to keep the covers over her body, “So I guess you really can talk to ghosts, huh?” It was kind of nice not focusing on the situation that had just happened for a minute, but she wasn’t sure how long it was going to last.

—

“I never said that’s what you looked like.” Winter rolled her eyes with the words, ignoring Mack’s warning to stay further away and moving towards the bed. If she got eaten then she got eaten. “I was talking about your speed, thought that was implied. You looked a little crazed but it’s not like your skin was rotting off or something.” Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Winter made sure to keep a little bit of distance between the two of them. She could attempt to run if she needed. “I didn’t realize a lot of this existed…the supernatural, I mean. Zombies, things flying around by themselves, some kind of fox thing, it’s all a little insane and yes it’s scary. But Mack, you’re still you, you know? You’re not actually a George A. Romero zombie with no sense of who they used to be. I never knew there was a difference with you until tonight.”

It was obvious Mack hadn’t been a zombie for long. If she didn’t know about when she needed to eat or what would make her go feral again then the logical thing to assume was she hadn’t been one for the majority of the time they’ve known each other. “How many times have you died? How long have you been like this?” So many questions were swimming around Winter’s head, her curiosity a continuous trait throughout her life. Some people liked to call her nosy but she liked to think she wanted to know how things worked.

Her ghost nodded to Mack politely when the girl apologized to him which made Winter’s mouth drop open in shock. He had never been so civil to her. “What the fuck, dude, I thought you were a bigger asshole than I was.” Again, his glare was set on her and Winter made a face at him before looking at her friend again. “So you can see him because you’re dead? So all zombies can see them?” Going silent with Mack’s question, she looked away and towards the bedroom door. It wasn’t easy for her to admit this. Nobody except Winter’s family knew that she had been faking everything on her tv show. But secrets were being shared tonight and Winter knew it was only fair that she share hers. “Actually…I never could see or talk to them. At least not until a month or so ago. I did this ritual thing from one of my great grandmother’s books and he showed up and he hasn’t left my side since. But he won’t talk to me.”

—

Mackenzie’s brain still wasn’t functioning at its highest level. And she wasn’t as well prepared for Winter’s smartass remarks as she normally was. She was doing good just to be having a coherent conversation and to actually recognize this woman and her ghost, “Oh good. Glad to know I didn’t look like something out of the Walking Dead.” Her words were still monotone. Inflection just wasn’t something she was vibing with at the moment. “What do you mean fox thing?” That’s new information. And things flying around the room? She hadn’t planned for a full on horror show. The production quality must have been of high value to have other freaky shit happening all while she was trying to eat her friends. Well, she guessed they were still her friends. She wasn’t entirely sure anymore.

“Thanks for saying that. I’ve been trying my best to keep it quiet, you know? It’s not exactly something I want to shout from the rooftops. Mackenzie…Mackenzie…” She struggled to remember her own name and gave up for now. “You get what I’m trying to say.” She let out a sad sigh with a breath that was more for show. It was like she had taken on the ultimate acting role after dying…pretending to be alive, “I’ve only died one other time. The day I became like this. And it was around two years ago, when all those rumors circulated that I had died on the set of Dropped? They were true.” She looked at her friend with sad, tired eyes. “Oh, and since coming here, I’ve been shot in the face with fireworks and almost eaten by a huge spider. But tonight, probably takes the metaphorical shit cake.”

She watched the banter between Winter and her ghost. It was amusing to say the least, and it made Mack wonder if he had been following her around since they had first met several years ago. Ironically though, Mackenzie got her answer, “So he hasn’t been your sidekick since we first met? And why are you telling me this? I mean, I’m not gonna say anything, but why tell me? Aren’t you afraid of ruining your career?” That had been one of Mackenzie’s biggest fears since the whole becoming a zombie thing had happened, but more than that, that she would be disowned by everyone who loved her after they found out about Brody. It’s one of the reasons why “disowning” them first, had worked to her advantage, slightly. “And uh, I mean yeah, but I don’t know about all zombies, because I don’t know of any other zombies. Kinda alone in all of this.”

—

“I would have killed you myself if you looked like that.” Says the girl who literally cowered against a wall when Mack had gone zombie. Winter one hundred percent believed that once she gained her wits about herself she would have been able to though. At least, that’s what she was telling herself. Headshots were the best way to kill a zombie, right? Or did the entertainment industry get that wrong too? Not that she planned on killing her but it might be useful information to have. Raising an eyebrow at the surprise, Winter turned so that she was able to face her friend better. “One of your friends turning into a fox? Her clothes were literally on the floor and she was naked when she turned back into a human. The fox was crawling all over the one who looked like she'd never had a fun day in her life.” 

Huh, turns out not all rumors in Hollywood were made up for publicity. “How did nobody on that set know that you were actually dead? Didn’t you tell me that was a horrific fall?” If Winter remembered correctly, Mack had said something about actually falling but not being as hurt as people thought she’d been. Had they ever told the truth to each other? Not that Mack could really tell her something like that without Winter wanting her family to get her into therapy. “Fireworks and a giant spider? Are you sure you want to stay here? Like, you have this great house and all but this town seems extremely off.” It was like she’d temporarily forgotten she was talking to a zombie and she herself could see ghosts. But after asking the question Winter realized that maybe the two of them did belong in a town that was just as strange as them.

“No, he hasn’t. Only a month or two now.” She sighed, rising from the bed and throwing her hands in the air. “I guess I trust you, I don’t know. You’re the only one I’ve ever really felt close to. Besides, rumors about me being a fake had been spreading since the show started, it’s nothing new. People believe what they want to believe and enough believe in me to keep the show going.” Shrugging her shoulders, she turned back to her friend. “You can’t be the only one. I wonder if there’s a way to track zombies down.”

—

“Guess it’s good to know I’ve got an out, if my looks ever fail me.” She let a small smirk slip onto her lips for the first time in a while. Every time something happened, it felt as though Mackenzie would lose a little piece of herself. It’s like she would eventually come back and be a functioning humanoid creature again, but the spark of her humanity and life had seemed to be dimming, and it truly scared her. She didn’t want to lose herself and become permanently numb. Mackenzie had always been so full of life and excitement. The idea of that not being her norm anymore was frightening.

“So you’re telling me somebody literally sprouted four legs and a tail and started running around my kitchen? What? I know I’m still struggling to process things, but that doesn’t sound real…” Mackenzie had a fox in her kitchen? “Who was it? And the other person you’re talking about, did she look like a sad version of Wednesday Addams? Cause if so, that’s Nora.” What the hell happened while she was in full on zombie mode? Maybe she needed to talk to Alex or, even Elvira herself…Nora.

“Your guess is as good as mine, but I did also eat a PA, which was part of the coverup. The studio paid a lot of money to keep people quiet. And at this rate, do you think that most people would really believe I ate somebody?” If Mackenzie could sweat, she would. She had eaten Brody after all, but Winter didn’t need to know that. Nobody did. “And when people thought that I was invincible it helped ratings spike like they hadn’t before. My death seemed to be a win for the studio and my career. But if I could go back to that day and change it all, I would.” She cast her eyes downward again knowing she couldn’t hide the regret in them. “As for staying here, I don’t really have a choice, Winter. People back home aren’t going to know how to handle me or take care of me if something goes wrong. The only reason you’re all still alive tonight is because of Alex.” She looked back up and locked eyes with Winter.

After a brief pause, Mack spoke up, “Well, I trust you too. And I trust that you’re not going to say anything to anybody about this. Please. You know I would never tell anybody what you’ve told me in private. You’re my best friend, Winter. And the only part of home I have left.” She bit at her bottom lip. “As for tracking zombies, I don’t know. It’s not like I can really smell anything, so I’m guessing if there were other zombies, they couldn’t either.”

—

“There she is.” She said the words as if Winter was seeing Mack for the first time in a while, glad that a little spark of humor was starting to shine through. “I was waiting for you to show up.” Her shoulder dipped into Mack’s playfully, the girl becoming more comfortable as time slipped by without another zombie incident. It had been hours anyway, she figured if Mack needed to eat something else she would know by now. 

“Guess you don’t know your friends very well, huh?” She paused, realizing that people could say the exact same thing about her since Mack hid this whole being dead thing for so long. Had she never really paid enough attention to notice that things were completely off these past couple of years? “Doesn’t sound real? You realize you're a zombie, right? How far-fetched could someone turning into a fox possibly be?” Winter really was trying to think of these people’s names but with everything that had happened the beginning stages of the party slipped her mind. She couldn’t recall a single one while she sat there with Mack. “I don’t remember her name. I think she was the one who brought the sangria? And that must be Nora even though I thought every version of Wednesday Addams was sad.”

With that news, her stomach started to feel a little queasy. Eating a PA was weird enough on its own but knowing the studio covered up the whole thing was…well, not surprising but still pretty awful. “Could you imagine the headlines? ‘Mackenzie Ross the Cannibal’ has a nice ring to it. The gossip rags would have a field day.” As much as she was trying to turn this into another joke, Winter’s voice had quieted. As awful as she had been to some of her PA’s over the years she couldn’t imagine causing one of their deaths. Locking eyes with her friend, the medium rolled her eyes, trying to shrug off the discomfort that had risen within her. “You wouldn’t have eaten me, I refuse to believe that. As for staying here, I guess I’ll need to stick around for a bit.”

Winter scoffed at Mack’s words. “I’m offended that you’d even suggest that I would tell someone.” So, she had a big mouth. That gave Mack no right to think she would blab about all of this. “I’m not going to tell anybody what we talked about just like I’m not going to tell anyone what happened at the party. I promise. And you know I don’t do that easily.” Making a face, the girl sighed at her best friend. “That sucks. How are you supposed to learn about this crap?”

—

A soft smile spread across Mack’s face as Winter nudged her. At this moment, it felt as if everything was starting to be okay. She was glad Winter had stuck around and hadn’t left with everyone else, but she couldn’t have blamed her if she had, “Yeah, lets just hope it lasts.”

“I mean a lot of them I saw at a party a while back. Besides, I’m sure most people don’t want to go around spouting off that they’re a fox or zombie or some other weird, unnatural thing. Who knows what kind of people are out there waiting to get their hands on people like us?” Winter could even be put in that category considering she had a new little buddy following her around. “I guess you’re right, and that doesn’t help much, because I don’t even know who brought sangria. I was more so focused on hoping people were having a good time, until I died. And Nora’s in a league of her own.”

“Yeah, I’d be on the next episode of Dateline or the next Lifetime movie.” Mackenzie shook her head. There was still a very big possibility it would happen considering the other teeny tiny bit of information she was keeping to herself. “I really hope I won’t eat you, but I can’t really control it if I get into a situation like dying or not having food. I guess it’s good you at least know what to look out for now though.” She couldn’t live with herself if she had ever hurt Winter, and in that moment, she had almost wanted to ask her friend to put more distance between them, but she also didn’t want to freak her out again.

She knew she could trust Winter. Despite how feisty the woman could be, she had always been a good friend to Mackenzie. Besides, who was she going to tell anyways. It’s not like Winter had that many friends in Wicked’s Rest either. I mean, she did have friends back in California, but Mack wasn’t going to let her mind go there, “Hey, as much as I don’t like it, I’ve gotta ask these things now, but you’re DD, so I trust that you and Ghosty there have my back through all of this.” God, she had hoped she wouldn’t say anything. “Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe I can go hang out in cemeteries and see if any zombies show up.” She shrugged.

—

“I just didn’t know there were so many…different things. I mean, ghosts, yeah a lot of people believe in them without any proof, but now I know there’s zombies and some kind of X-men running around. What next? Is my dad going to tell me he's a swamp thing?” Winter hadn’t even thought about people wanting to come after those like Mack or even herself. “Wait, what do you mean? Like the government wanting to do experiments? I feel like this isn’t new, they probably know about this already.” Or at least she hoped. Maybe that was why most people could go their whole lives without knowing the supernatural was a thing? Shrugging a shoulder, Winter didn’t know what else to say to her friend. She couldn’t pull a name out of thin air. “Then I couldn’t tell you. Guess we’ll just have to call her Foxy or something.”

Again, Winter went quiet when Mack tried to explain that she couldn’t control herself. The medium didn’t want to think about what could possibly happen if her best friend got hungry around her again. She didn’t want to know that at any moment Mack could start gnawing on her like her cat did with her chew toys. It wasn’t something she was willing to believe. “Sure, okay. But I still think there’s something in you that would stop you. You know, like in the movies when someone loves someone else too much to hurt them under mind control or something? Yea, that’ll be us.” And there was no convincing her otherwise. Mack would have to prove that wasn’t the case even if Winter never wanted to see her hungry again. 

“That’s right, bitch, I’m DD and you’re my BB. There’s no way I’m letting this cat out of the bag.” Even with her hesitancy to get close to Mack before she immediately wrapped an arm around the other girl’s shoulder and pulled her into a side hug. “And it’s not like that asshole talks, so we’re good.” There was a noise as the ghost blew a raspberry, Winter raising her free hand and sticking her middle finger up at him while still hugging Mack. She lowered her hand, pulling away from her friend with a sigh. “Maybe I should hang out with you. I’m starting to see more ghosts so it could lead to some help with my issue too.”

—

Mackenzie was right there with Winter. Just because she had worked in the movie business that held whatever your imagination could think up, didn’t mean she believed all of it was real. But now there were a whole slew of creatures that had opened her eyes up to a lot more and the sad realization that this probably wasn’t just some virus that could be cured, and she’d be stuck like this forever, “Get in line. I just thought this was some weird, freakish virus I had that could be cured, but I guess it’s not. I guess zombies are real and so are other things that I only thought could exist in movies.” She glanced down, her smile dropping slightly. “Government experiments. People that want to kill us…” Her eyes moved back to meet Winter’s, “We just have to be careful, okay? And Foxy…right? I guess I’ll just go around calling everyone Foxy until they look super nervous. Then I’ll have my answer.”

Mack could see the denial on Winter’s face, and it hurt her, but she needed to make her friend understand that it didn’t work that way. As much as she had loved Brody, even he couldn’t stop her, “Winter. No. If I get like this, you have to run, okay? Don’t be stupid. Yeah, you’re my best friend, and I love you so fucking much, but don’t wait for that movie moment, because it will never come.” She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. Mackenzie couldn’t wake up from the trance she fell into as a zombie to find someone else she loved and cared about deeply, ripped apart by her own hands. She just couldn’t.

Taking a deep breath, she let out a sigh and let her mood lighten, “That’s why I love a DD, because she’s a loyal bitch.” The hug had caught her off guard, but it had been something she had longed for since leaving her home. Just to be close and feel loved by those who loved her. She had felt like it was forbidden ever since she had killed Brody. Like she didn’t deserve to be loved by anyone or touched with affection. But just as the Grinch’s heart had grown, hers, she could have sworn, seemed to beat a little harder and faster for the briefest of moments, “You don’t know how much I needed that hug, Winter. God, you just don’t know.” She had completely ignored Winter’s ghost and managed to barely take in what Winter had been saying about hanging out with her in cemeteries, because she didn’t want to lose the feeling of being held just a little longer, even if it had been with her best friend. And in that moment, Mackenzie made it a point to never take hugs for granted ever again.

[scarlettriot]

Stood Up

Pairing: Sero/F!Reader

Summary: When you find your dating making out with someone else at a Halloween party, Hanta swoops in and reclaims your evening, rekindling an old flame.

Contains: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Reader, Astronomy/Greek Lore Nerd Sero, Old flame

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Demi Problems, Praise/Smidge of Degradation, Name-calling (slut & whore), Pet names (Love, good girl, pretty girl), Car Sex, F Masturbation, Oral M Receiving (Road Head) I think that's everything

A/N: This took me much longer than I expected. It's also my first time writing Sero. Given the season, I decided to add a touch of Halloween and costumes to this one.

If you'd like to read other's in the Stood Up series, here are the links:

Stood Up - Bakugo - WC 3,502

Stood Up - Kirishima - WC 3,612

Stood Up - Kaminari - WC 2,461

Word Count Starting Below: 3,494

Denki Kaminari's annual Halloween bash was in full swing by the time Hanta had arrived. He'd come straight from patrol, wrapping himself up in his own tape making a half assed mummy costume for himself. Not like anyone would notice with the flashing colored lights, loud music, and abundance of liquor.

However, Hanta didn't even make it up to the double glass front doors of Denki's home. Not before doing a double take at the very familiar pirate that ran by him.

"Y/N?" You stopped allowing him the chance to catch up to you, "Holy shit, it is you, when the hell did you get back?"

Three years you'd been gone, working in America. Time differences and busy schedules made it so the two of you barely kept in touch. It was a shame, Hanta thought, considering how close the two of you used to be.

"I- uh- just a few weeks now. I heard you were helping out with the disaster relief after that storm."

It had to be his eyes playing tricks on him, the funny colors of the dancing lights were what made your cheeks look wet, right? Those couldn't have been tears.

"I was, yeah, but I got back yesterday. I didn't know-"

"Get the hell outta here!" His head snapped back towards the front of the house, just in time to see Eijiro, dressed in an impressive werewolf costume, literally throw someone out of the party. The guy drunkenly stumbled off, Eijiro walking over towards where Hanta was standing with you. "Y/N, you good?"

You nodded while Hanta tried to piece together what'd happened. "Sorry, it took me a second to find the bastard. Do ya wanna come back in? I'll make sure he leaves."

"No, Eijiro, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home."

The wolfman frowned but understood. "We'll have a smaller party for ya! Just the gang as a welcome home! You know Denki will look for any excuse to throw a party." He turned his gaze on Hanta. "A mummy, really?"

"You've been a damn werewolf for the last two years! You don't get to give me crap."

Eijiro poked the fuzzy pointed red ears carefully set into his spiky hair. "Mina and I worked real hard on this costume... seemed like a waste to only wear it once."

"We both know you haven't just worn those once, big man."

That got a chuckle out of you while all Eijiro could do was shrug and try to hide a shit-eating grin.

He asked you again if you'd like to stay and once more you said you were going to just head home. It was when you specifically said you were going to be walking home that Hanta spoke up offering to drive you back to your home since it was Halloween and people were creeps.

You were a damn pro hero but he still didn't feel right about just letting you walk home alone.

When you agreed he told Eijiro he'd be back soon and walked over with you to his car.

>>><<<

A part of you missed the old station wagon Hanta used to drive, not that this BMW he now drove wasn't absolutely amazing, you just sort of missed the comfort of the old car.

He waited until he'd reached the end of Denki's long, winding driveway to finally speak. "So, you wanna tell me what happened back there, or am I just supposed to pretend like Kiri didn't kick someone out on your behalf?"

"You could probably just ask Kiri and he'd tell you."

"I could, but, I'd like to hear it from you."

You knew you could tell him, there was nothing you couldn't tell Hanta. There was once a time when the man knew every single detail about your life. Sure, time and distance had put a strain on that relationship but you were back now. There was no reason why you couldn't at least start rebuilding what you and Hanta once had.

"Y/N, if you don't wanna say anything-"

"I was just casually seeing this guy. You know me and dating, how we don't always work out." You said abruptly and he quit talking, "And so, we weren't like official but we said we'd go to this party together. Well, I got here and went looking for him and found him making out with one of Hawks' sidekicks. I got a little upset when he noticed me and, well, he just said he found someone better."

Hanta actually stopped the car, pulled off to the side of the road, threw it in park, and looked right at you because he knew what found someone better meant exactly. You'd used those words in high school when that guy from Shiketsu that you'd been seeing got pissed off that you wouldn't put out and ended it with you. You went to his dorm crying because he 'found someone better', is what you told him. It took him a few hours to get the truth out of you.

You'd always been the kind of person to love with your entire heart but sexually, you'd confessed that you felt different from all the other kids your age back then. Not having the same urges and desires that everyone else seemed stricken with.

"Hanta, it's fine, really. Kiri heard the whole thing and, well, you saw what happened."

"Doesn't make it right! So, you went on a couple dates with a guy, that doesn't mean he just gets to expect you to put out for him! Even if you weren't demi, no one gets to just assume they deserve sex."

His lips were pressed in a narrow line, nostrils flared once in annoyance. He was usually so calm and laid back that you thought it rather cute when he got overprotective. "It's alright, Hants, really."

He still gave you a look that said he disagreed but then shook his head, dropping the subject for now at least.

"Still like those late-night drives?"

"I love them."

"Good."

Hanta waited for a car to pass and whipped the car in the other direction.

It wasn't long before he had the windows rolled down, conversations filling in the blanks of lost time, in between belting out choruses of your favorite songs. Minutes slipped by the further he drove, you lost track of both time and kilometers, letting him tell you all about the ridiculous antics the group had been up to.

Eventually, you caught the scent of salty air and even in the dark, you had a pretty good idea where Hanta was going. He followed a winding road, making two left turns and then a right leaving you on a stretch of road that paralleled the ocean.

You let your head fall against the seat, eyes falling shut and inhaling that wonderful smell you missed so much. Hanta had just one hand lazily on the wheel, his elbow resting out the open window, a relaxed smile was illuminated in soft orange lights off his dash.

You let your head roll onto his shoulder, not as easily done without the bench seat in his station wagon but it worked nonetheless. "Thanks."

His free hand came to rest on your knee, "Anytime."

He turned the wheel, pulling over and parking in front of a small beach access that you guys had found at 3 in the morning five years prior. Hanta kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the car to avoid them being sand-filled and you did the same with the knee-high boots purely because you longed to feel the sand between your toes.

The wooden planks were worn, parts buried beneath the sand until eventually, none remained. Breaking waves flooded your ears and you made a run for them! Before you could reach the lapping water though, tape had wound around your middle and yanked you backward.

"Not happening!" Hanta said firmly. "Last time I let you talk me into late-night swimming we didn't have a change of clothes either and we both got so sick! I think I might have actually died without Bakugo's soup!"

You chuckled, remembering being nineteen and curled up with Hanta on the sofa in the living room of the apartment you all shared for nearly a week. The sniffles didn't cease for almost three weeks.

"Okay, okay, no swimming." You flopped back down into the sand, his tape still attached meaning the cellophane hero was pulled down with you. "Tell me about the stars then, Hants. Who's out tonight?"

Astronomy was a hobby of Hanta's you learned about after moving into the dorms your first year. It wasn't uncommon to find him out on the roof most nights, laying on his back and looking up into the clear night sky littered with twinkling stars, usually with a joint pressed between his lips. It became almost a habit for him to grab you on his way up, pulling you along because you were more than happy listening to him tell you about each constellation and the stories behind them.

It was around this time of year, in your final year of high school; somewhere between him recalling the greek mythos of Aries and Sagittarius that you noticed your heart beating a little faster. You realized something had shifted between the two of you, and, holy shit, was this what it felt like to have a crush! When the hell did that happen?

You'd entrusted everything to Hanta back then, and now, laying in the sand shoulder to shoulder while he talked about Draco, that familiar feeling stirred again. You remembered what it was supposed to be like when you weren't forcing it for some random guy. How simple it was supposed to be.

You inclined on an elbow and he stopped mid-sentence. "Eh, everything alright?" You nodded but he looked anything but convinced, mirroring your position and asking you again.

It was easy for you to lean forward, to brush your lips against his for the first time in three years. And, when you pulled away, he looked about as shocked as he had the night you'd done it when you were eighteen.

"You- you still like me?"

When you left for America, you'd both agreed to put a pause on your sort of relationship. Free to date and screw whomever you pleased because three years was a long time and it just seemed like a fair decision to make. The realization that he might now have someone else special in his life dawned on you...

"Yeah but I totally understand if things are different now and I shoulda asked- oof!"

He kissed you so hard you toppled back into the sand, quick pecks, one right after another, ending them with a long one that nearly left you breathless.

"I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want to make you feel awkward about things or make you think I expected something. I thought that maybe since we didn't talk for a while your feelings might have changed."

"I can say with confidence they haven't."

"Thank fuck." He groaned and captured your lips in another searing kiss.

It was easy to lift his shirt off, the shreds of tape that remained were now covered with gritty sand that clung to your fingers as you traced the chest and torso you knew so well. Gliding over defined muscles, lingering on old scars and mapping out new ones he'd collected in your time apart.

His own hands were busy flicking open the brass fastenings of your corset, huffing about it being so much more difficult to get to your chest and something about it being very unfair.

By the time he'd undone the last one, bright headlights shown across the beach. "Shit."

Giggling ensued from the walkway and you both sighed, at least it wasn't the police or a hero patrol. Hanta gathered his shirt and ran back to his car with his hand in yours.

"I thought our days of being caught were over."

"At least it wasn't Mr. Aizawa this time."

A chill ran down your spine remembering the night and the lecture you'd received when your teacher had caught Hanta sneaking out of your room early one morning.

"So, uh, do you still plan on going to Denki's party?" You asked innocently enough but Hanta knew you far too well.

"I think I'm gonna miss it this year." His hand found a home on your upper thigh. "Apparently, you and I have a lot of catching up to do. Lost time to make up for and all that."

"Too bad you don't have that old station wagon anymore. If you did, we wouldn't have to wait to get back."

Dark eyes glanced over at you not so subtly parting your legs.

"I dunno. It's not too often I travel in the backseat of my own car but I've been told it's pretty roomy. Lots of legroom."

Your hand ran over your legs, dipping down to lightly brush your more sensitive parts, thankful you opted for the thin pair of black leggings rather than the dark skinny jeans. Your fingers danced again and this time you let a soft moan pass your lips. "Eyes on the road, Hants."

"That's a little hard to do when I've got you spread out in the passenger's seat." He grabbed your free hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. "You've got me distracted, filthy little woman."

You appreciated him testing the waters, a subtle way of checking if you liked those nicknames he used only in private with you, giving you a chance to protest if your likes had changed. They were one's that only felt right coming from him and you were eager to hear more.

Forgoing your own high, you leaned over the center console as best you could, undoing his belt first, followed quickly by his zipper letting his strained cock be free.

His grip tightened on your leg when you kissed the tip of him. "Just like old times, huh?"

A chuckle turned quickly into a moan, taking him in your mouth, pushing yourself further on his cock, fighting your gag reflex to get him down your throat. Hanta reclined his seat further, giving you more room to work with.

Your legs clenched tighter with every groan you pulled from him, wiggling your hips in the seat, letting a hand fall back between your own legs. There was an attempt of a moan around his cock when his fingers coiled in your hair. "Such a good slut. Keep fuckin' goin'." He let you continue at your own speed, needing to focus as best he could on the road rather than what you were doing but, damn, you were making that increasingly difficult.

He wasn't stopping you though. He rarely did. You'd sucked him off on countless drives before and only stopped when- "That's it." He lifted you off him by your hair at the same time he pulled off the road. There was a convenient turn-off, hidden by overgrown brush you noticed before he shut off the headlights.

Hanta took you by the chin, smearing drool. "Backseat, pretty girl." He reached into the glove box and pulled out a foil wrapper, "What do you say we test out that legroom?"

He wait to watch your smile grow wide before crawling into the back because he had to be the first to go if this had any chance of working. Once situated, pants under his thighs, he patted his lap for you to climb over.

You slid easily onto his lap, hands traveling up and over his shoulders, kissing hard while you rocked your hips against impossibly hard length.

There was so much comfort in the familiarity of him. It wasn't awkward to fall back into rhythm with Hanta, to remember that he loved the feeling of your nails dragging down his chest. And he was just as eager to get your shirt off, reach your breasts he'd missed so much, and get his tongue on your nipples.

Your head tipped backward, loving the pace he set, hips bouncing creating the perfect tug on your nipples between his teeth.

"Love, if I promise to buy you a new pair, can I rip these damn leggings? They're just so thin and-"

"Please." Your breathy moan had him smirking and with a single grunt the leggings were ruined, cool air from the vents had only a moment to touch your bare ass before Hanta's hands reclaimed it.

There was no way he hadn't felt your arousal before ripping your clothes off, you soaked through your panties and leggings, you knew that, but that didn't stop him from commenting on how soaked you were now on his fingers. "Want me inside you, whore? I think you do."

You nodded with a whimper and he slipped a finger in. "Hants, noo- I- I want your cock, please."

"You're gonna take my fingers like a good little slut first." You clenched at the words falling from his mouth. "So fuckin' tight you can barely take a finger. How'm I supposed to fit in here if you can even take a single finger? Need you to loosen up, alright." He pushed another finger in, scissoring the two inside you.

"This gonna make you cum? You need this bad, don't you? Tell me. Tell me how bad you need to cum."

"I want it. Please, please, I need it. I'm so close," You babbled and ripped the foil open with his teeth, rolling it with one hand on his cock. In an instant, his fingers had been replaced with this dick. Sticky fingers on your ass helping you ease down on him with a hiss.

"Fuck," Hanta let out a throaty chuckle, "You still fuckin' feel the absolute best." He dropped a kiss between your breasts, letting you adjust to his girth. "Perfect. Good girl. Such a fuckin' good little slut."

He wasn't about to last long. Not once you started bouncing up and down on him, your tits right in front of his face.

"Couldn't even wait for me to get you home, had to fucking tease me in the damn car." He held onto the fat of your ass, pulling you along him and slamming you down hard.

"Kinda pathetic how desperate you are. Fuck. Kinda hot too."

When the top of your head bumped the roof of the car, he scooted lower, trying to give you as much room to ride him however you pleased.

"What do you need? You wanna cum, don't you, pretty girl, what do you need?"

"Faster, faster please."

Hanta shifted even lower, making you grab onto the two headrests while he thrust his hips up into you at a rapid speed. His thumb on your clit was the additional stimulation you needed to fall over the edge. Nails clawing at the black leather as he continued to moan below you now chasing his own release.

You stayed poised above him, using every last bit of strength to stay upright until his mouth was rambling and his cock pulsed inside of you. Fingers bruising your skin before holding your pelvis snuggly against his.

He was bent in a way that looked entirely uncomfortable and yet he still smiled so widely. Reaching up to brush hair out of your eyes, "You okay?"

"Perfects, Hants. A little sore but I'm sure you are too." He moved off his lap, letting him slip out of you with a groan, "Is your neck gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Having you back, love, is more than worth a little bit of a neck cramp."

As he tied a knot in the condom, depositing it into a plastic bag he had tucked away under his seat, Hanta raised a brow, "Love, really, are you alright? Please, tell me if I hurt you at all."

"No! I'm good, why?"

"You're sitting silly."

You were sitting a little odd, perched on your knees rather than sitting on your ass because the leather was chilly and you told Hanta as much making him laugh. "Wait, I think I can help." He leaned back to the front of the car, flicking a button making it glow. Once he tucked himself back in his pants he hopped out of the car and you could see him rummaging in his trunk through the rear window.

"I keep forgetting to take this out from our camping trip a couple months ago. Guess it turned out to be a good thing." He laid the blanket down over the passenger's seat, declaring that should help a bit.

You wrapped the now toasty warm blanket around your bottom half while Hanta drove back towards the city, your head on his shoulder, his hand on your thigh.

"So, shopping tomorrow? I believe I owe you a pair of leggings..."

"It's a date."

[mrsalwayswrite]

Sinners and Saints (Sihtric x reader)

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

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

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

Words: 5500

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 "Baby monk, ya alright?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 "I did tell you."

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

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

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

 "I'm sorry."

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

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

 "Uhtred? That Uhtred?"

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

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

 "Would you like to meet him first?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 "I will if I must."

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

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

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

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

 *****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 *****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 "Your mother will let me in."

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

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

 Or at least that was what you told yourself. 

 *****

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

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

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

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

 "Sihtric?" You tried to prompt him. 

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

 "Yes." You breathed out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 "THANK YA, GOD!!" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Just how you wanted it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sondepoch]

HC: MC is more flexible than them!

Perfection is certain. Perfection is solid. Perfection is the body of a demon or an angel, where there is no room (or need) for bones to crack and muscles to stretch. You and Solomon, though? You’re human. Not so “perfect” when compared to the other inhabitants of at RAD—but that just makes it all the more interesting when they finally see the way the human body can crack and bend

Word Count: 5.5k

SFW + mild descriptions of cracking body parts

Characters: All brothers + All Undateables + Luke

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

Instant panic mode

Man just learned that it’s possible for humans to break bones, so when he hears you casually crack your knuckles, he instantly assumes that all your fingers are broken

Finds it even more terrifying when you lean your head back and crack your neck 

Honestly, the look of sheer horror on his face would be terrifying if you didn’t find it so funny

Is actually super confused when he realizes that you’re 100% fine but will not lower himself to actually asking you about it. That is not the Lucifer way, and so this man instead decides to secretly binge Satan’s collection of human anatomy instead

But uh, he gets scarily into it

Seriously, you’re starting to get concerned when it’s been nearly two full weeks of Lucifer ignoring you to bury his nose in a book, eyebrows furrowing every goddamn time he finishes one, and still has no clue what that cracking sound is 

It’s only when you casually do it at the dinner table and Asmo cringes, complaining about how weird it is that humans get pockets of gas inside certain joints and they actually have to crack it out, to which all his brothers nod their head and cringe when you do it again, that he understands what it is

Has never been more relieved

He isn’t as disturbed by the sound as he was before, so it’s not as fun to tease him with it - but you can count on the fact that if you ever crack anything in his presence, he will pause whatever he’s doing to study you for a moment and make sure your face isn’t contorted in pain or anything

After all, he needs to be completely certain that you haven’t broken a bone

But someone help this man when he realizes how much more flexible humans are compared to demons

The first time you do a backbend in front of him, he actually flinches

Man can’t help but imagine himself in those poses - and no matter how sexy you look when you’re winking at him and stretching your body like it’s glue, his bones would have to be shattered to bits for him to do the same

Quietly asks you not to stretch yourself into such positions in his presence

On the bright side, you can shut him up in the middle of any lecture by “casually” stretching your arms back until the demon is so disturbed that he stops in the middle of his sentence and asks you to leave as soon as possible

All in all, not a big fan - but he can tolerate your antics (if only to save face)

But if you ever show him videos (or even pictures) of a contortionist, he may actually be scarred for the rest of his almost-eternal life

Mammon

Man really needs to learn how to knock

He barges into your room without warning, as usual, only to see you all but straddling the ground, legs spread wide apart as you lean to one side and touch your right toe

It’s the most basic human stretch there is - but it’s terrifying to Mammon

You don’t even get the chance to say hi to him before he’s lifted you onto your feet, pulling you up from under your arms, desperately asking why you weren’t screaming for help 

Cannot process the fact that you were actually in that position willingly, much less the notion that it felt remotely good

Of course, you respond to his obvious aversion by showing him all the other ways your body can bend, flopping onto your bed and bending your body into a perfect bridge position

Mammon’s screeches when he sees the arch your back makes

It lowkey gives him nightmares the next night

Also becomes very touchy after he sees you move your body around so comfortably

In his eyes, you’re now the equivalent of a giant teddy bear - and really, what are the differences, now? He uses you for cuddles and hugs, can seemingly bend your body in any way and you’ll bounce back, and your skin is so soft compared to the hardness of his own body

Man actually grows used to your body after a while, holding a strange fascination for the way you can move

Begins to think that it’s cool when you show him how you can crack your knuckles and such

Absolutely makes use of the fact that some of his other brothers hate the sound, casually walking up to them with you by his side and asking them (while you crack your knuckles) to forgive his debts

Works 90% of the time

The 10% when it doesn’t work, though, he gets into trouble

In his free time, though, he actually likes lying with you and trying to figure what other body parts you can crack

Courtesy of Mammon, you learn that you can crack your hip if you stretch at a certain angle

(Bonus:) He one day tries to stretch his body the way you stretch yours and does a basic hamstring stretch on the ground, trying to touch his toes, but the exertion is too much for his inflexible body and he sort of locks a joint, so he’s left on the floor for nearly half an hour until you find him in his room and help him out of it

(Bonus bonus:) After his trauma from the above incident, he immediately goes back to assuming that you’re in great pain every time he sees you do a particularly difficult stretch and instantly lifts your body out of the position, no matter how you protest and say that you’re fine

Leviathan

"What a normie”

That’s the only reaction you get when you crack your knuckles in front of him, eager to see what he’ll do after realizing how much it disturbs his other brothers

Needless to say, you’re disappointed by his utter nonchalance

But that’s only because you have no clue what happens to Levi when he runs to his room and closes his door, jumping into his bathtub with a shook expression on his face

“Oh my god!” He squeals. “iT wAs LiKE iN tHe aNImES”

Nah, fr tho

Man has seen more than enough human-world shows which feature characters cracking their knuckles before getting down to work, so he’s pretty familiar with the concept

Like many things in anime, he was only 60% sure that it was real

But you actually did it

And it was in real life

Man is practically fanboying over a perfectly normal phenomenon

While you’re sitting in the living room, thinking that he was utterly unfazed by it :(

But when the two of you have a whole year to spend together under the same roof, it’s honestly inevitable that the truth comes out

“You like it?” You ask, pure confusion settling over your faces. After all, he’s the first of the brothers to not be utterly horrified by your little habit

“N-no!” Levi shouts, hiding his face. “I mean, maybe...just a little...sort of...but not in the normie way!”

Boi is too cute for his own good

Of course, you humor him and proceed to crack every single joint you can think of, sending a wink Levi’s way 

It would be so easy to tease him, wouldn’t it? To mess with him and call him strange, to compare to his brothers and remind him that you’re not an anime character - and that anime is, in fact, based on humans, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that humans could crack their knuckles the way he’s seen online

But, he’s too precious. And too cute. And he’s too adorable, staring at you with that utterly captivated expression, so you can’t help but humor him again, asking if he wants to see some of the other differences between humans and demons

And when you show him how you can bend your body, man is shook all over again

He 100% thought that the absurd stretches (like a split? how preposterous) were merely fabrications of animation - flourishes added in by animators to make the visuals more interesting

But seeing you move like that? And when you show him the other stuff?

Congratulations. Boi is officially convinced that humans are more interesting that anime can ever be.

Satan

One of the few demons who was already familiar with the fact that humans are ridiculously flexible and can crack nearly everything in their body 

He was actually the one to approach you about it

“Stretch for me, human.”

Or well, the same thing but in less blunt words

Actually invites you to have tea with him where he first broaches the subject, confirming that you'll be fully comfortable with everything he wants to study

Lmao man really arranges to have a safe word in case he pushes you too far

Once you’ve agreed to letting him study how the human body can bend and crack, the two of you set a time and meet up in his room (and yes, he does clear his books out of the way to make room for you)

And so the stretching begins

It actually feels quite awkward at first with Satan showing you pictures from human world yoga books and asking you to mimic them, taking notes in a book on everything 

Gets really excited when he realizes that your flexibility is a function of how often you stretch, and once he realizes that you’re able to go a little farther each day, he becomes lowkey obsessed with finding out whether there's a limit or not

Boi may or may not secretly try to stretch in his own room in case demons are just naturally less flexible and need to stretch regularly to become like humans

Also almost breaks his arm attempting that, so he never tries it again

The whole ordeal fits itself into your routine after long enough: after school, you go to Satan’s room and do yoga while he jots down notes on how your body moves, and after everything is done the two of you have tea

Satan never touches you while you’re stretching for fear that he’ll physically push you into something uncomfortable, but when you explain that certain positions are easier to hold if someone helps, he’ll definitely try to be a helping hand

He starts out really tentatively, hesitant that he’ll be too strong and will push you to the floor or something, but he’s pleasantly surprised to find that humans are more resilient than he’d initially thought

After his notebook is filled with notes and he’s suitably convinced that all his questions are sated, he’ll express his gratitude and tell you that you don’t need to continue 

But if you tell him that you’ve been enjoying your time together, man will 100% clear that space in his room permanently, so that you can spend time there together while Satan asks you calming questions about your day and you stretch the tension of the day out of your muscles

Asmodeus

Jelly boi

Nah but fr

Man couldn’t care less about your ability to crack your knuckles and neck - if anything, he finds the habit to be irritating

But boi is jealous when he sees how easily you can bend your body and stretch into positions that even he can’t

Obviously, his mind is in the gutter when he’s thinking about the way your body can bend - but he’s equally furious of the fact that human skin is so much softer than demon skin

Like, yes. Most demons have near-perfect skin because of its taut texture - and yes, that gives them the illusion of perfection

But human skin, blemished as it is, is like a teddy bear next to a rock when compared to demon skin

And obviously Asmo’s skin is softer than everyone else’s (this man is NOT skimping out when it comes to his skincare routine), but it infuriates him that his skin isn’t as soft as yours 

Of course, man bounces back quicker than anyone else (as expected)

He grows content with the texture of his own skin the moment he realizes how easily penetrable human skin is - namely when he’s doing homework with you and he sees your skin get sliced open by paper, of all things (man nearly chokes when he learns that this is a regular occurrence for humans)

But he never quite loses his fixation for the human body

It’s highkey the reason why he likes touching you so much - your skin is softer than some Devildom blankets! If he could fall asleep with your arms wrapped around him every night, he absolutely would

But he won’t genuinely request that of you unless you explicitly offer, so he’ll settle for simply hugging you at every opportunity

Ofc, the moment he grows content with the texture of his skin, he’s jealous of your flexibility all over again, so it’s kind of nuts

You eventually have to sit him down and tell him all the downfalls of being able to bend yourself into awkward positions (ex: getting stuck in said position or causing a cramp) for him to finally be content with his own body once more

The moment he’s back to normal, all the usual flirtatious jokes come back and he’s offering to let you show him the ways your body can bend

You deny instantly

But if he ever takes you to a club and has the opportunity to dance with you, do a body roll

Man will get on his knees if that’s what it takes to have you do it again

And then he’ll whisk you off to his room, stubbornly ignoring his brother’s protests, declaring that he needs to “reeducate” himself in the art of dance, and that you’re going to be his teacher

And hey - give him a private show while you’re at it ;)

Beelzebub

The first time you crack your knuckles in front of him, he’s eating

Man doesn’t really register it, just assumes that he bit something crunchy 

The second time you do it, it’s in his and Belphie’s room - and Belphie is taking a nap

Man gets a little suspicious, because the sound definitely came from your end, but he dismisses it and decides that the sound must have been a hitch in Belphie’s breathing

But the third time, the two of you are alone

And Beel’s protective instincts come rushing to the surface when he realizes that you really are the one making that sound

“Are you dying?”

First question, no matter what. Man has heard of medical conditions that cause bones to become brittle and crumbly, so he needs to know

Then again, he won’t really believe you when you tell him the truth

“You can...crack stuff at will?”

beelisconfuzzled.exe 

You have to show him methodically, portion by portion, which of your body parts you can crack

He isn’t disturbed by the sound (he’s eaten things which sound much worse, he can assure you) but man is intrigued

(”But how?” He’ll inevitably ask, struggling to yank his own knuckles off in an attempt to crack them and get that feeling of satisfaction you kept talking about)

All in all,he has a decent reaction - probably one of the only people who won’t overreact about the information

But then the fateful day comes

And he cracks your back

It happens while he’s giving you a big bear hug, proud of you after you came running to tell him about a good grade you got in Devildom Literature - and he places his palm on your back in just the right area, pressing down as he hugs you

And pop

Man is so mortified, he almost drops you

You, on the other hand, cannot be more pleased with this development

“Again! Again!” You shout, trying to get him to repeat the action - but while Beel loves hugging you, cracking your back is something he’s not willing to risk

“It’s okay when you do it, because you know how much your back can take” is his biggest argument. "But I don't."

And unfortunately, calling him a chicken won’t work when you try to convince him otherwise :(

What will work, however, is convincing Beel that this can be a sort of strength training - because he needs to have full control of his body to do it right

He’ll agree to do it once (mainly because you’ve been begging for so long)

But, obviously, “once” means as many times as you want, from there on out ;)

Belphegor

It’s one of the few times where Belphie isn’t in tune with his brother

And he hates it

He doesn’t understand how Beel isn't disturbed by the sound - every time you crack your knuckles, it sends a shudder straight down Belphie’s spine

And it’s not the ick factor taking place. It’s just that Belphie can’t help that his mind wanders to darker places whenever you do something like that, the sound abruptly reminding him of his time in the Celestial War and all the awful things he heard there

Like others, the sound reminds him of how weak you really are

And so, if you ever crack your knuckles around him, expect him to leave instantly

He’s the one brother who will never learn to tolerate it - not when he can remove himself from the situation so easily

And honestly, it’s kind of amazing how sharp his ears are

Is he taking a nap on your lap? If you think you can subtly crack anything without his eyes shooting open, you’re wrong

Is he preparing dinner with you in the kitchen? Nope, the sound of boiling water will not cover the sound of your body stretching too far, and Belphie will shoot you a glare before swiftly exiting the room

Is he simply doing homework with you in the RAD library? You’d think that the sound of chatter from the table next to you would hide the noise you make when you subtly lean back to crack your back, but Belphie is gathering his things mere seconds later, huffing and muttering under his breath

So yeah

Not a fan

On the other hand, he loves how accommodating your body is in terms of how flexibly you are

It brings him great joy, honestly, to just watch you flop your arms around aimlessly because humans’ movements are so fluid, so smooth, so unhindered by the rigid joints of demons

And, obviously, your flexibility makes for better naps

He likes to sleep next to you with his arms wrapped around your waist while you latch onto him in whatever position you deem comfortable

Without a doubt, the position you find is something that would be wholly impossible for a demon (how are you bending your legs that much?!) and it sometimes scares him to realize the full extents of your flexibility (can all humans twist their arms like that, or is it just you?) but he loves that you use your body’s oddities to pull him closer

And he’ll never deny you a comfortable nap if you’re willing to cuddle so readily

Never

Unless you crack your knuckles, that is

Solomon

Life is war and cracking body parts is your only weapon

Aka nonstop competitions between you and our resident wizard boy, both of you cracking body parts back and forth until one of you either fails or runs out of things to crack

Knuckles? Come on, are you even trying? Give him something less basic

Back? Oh yeah. Both sides, too - and the loud ones

Hips? You didn’t think it was possible, but Solomon will look you in the eye and hit one side of his hip, the movement a prelude to an instant CRACK which rings out oh-so-gloriously from the other end

Ribs? You realized you could crack them once and never stopped - you’re actually the one to teach Solomon how to do this

Neck? Always the finisher. So loud, and so satisfying

Neither the House of Lamentation nor Purgatory Hall ever wants to have the two of you over at the same time, because the residents know that you and Solomon will have these competitions. And they absolutely hate it.

So what do you do?

Go to the library and disturb the demons there, of course

It actually becomes a pretty sick form of payback to all the annoying demons that look down on the two of you for being humans, because they always cringe so hard when you guys do this

The two of you have deduced that the sound of knuckles cracking is the demon equivalent to the sound of nails on a chalkboard

And you fucking run wild with it

No one wants to piss either of you off, because you’ll both glare at the demon in question and proceed to crack every body part known to mankind (like seriously - it’s reached the point where you guys can crack your TOES, and if that isn’t absolutely amazing, then you don’t know what is)

It actually highkey annoys the demons in your classes, because you guys always crack everything right before an exam and while it helps you focus better, it effectively ruins their concentration

Ofc you guys don’t really care so they can suck it

But uh

Okay so the demons at RAD may or may not get fed up of you both one day and petition for Diavolo to instate a “No cracking body parts” rule in school

So yeah your primary source of entertainment sort of disappears after that point

But no worries, you and Solomon head to the downtown shopping districts instead and become the BEST hagglers in town

“Hey, can we get these shirts on a discount? Huh? You don’t do discounts? 

*Aggressively cracks everything until the demon just wants them out of the store*

“How about now BICH?”

Simeon

You’re actually not the one to introduce Simeon to the idea of humans being able to crack their body parts at will

No, it’s Solomon who steals that pleasure from you

But will Simeon ever let the sorcerer know just how much it unnerves him? Absolutely not. So what does our beloved angel do?

Why, there’s only one option

Come running straight to you.

Man is disturbed. Honestly, disturbed is phrasing it lightly. If he were in his angel form, you’d be able to see how his feathers ruffle and flutter at the very thought of that sound

Needless to say, he hates it

(You 100% consider cracking your knuckles in front of him, just to tease him, but you decide against it)

See, Simeon is an angel. And that means 99% of the time, he’s surrounded by other holy spirits, all of which have bodies molded to perfection that simply cannot crack the way yours can. Whereas demons are forced into human interaction a little more (oft when they're summoned), Simeon really isn’t used your fragility, no matter how much he tries to remind himself of it

So yeah

He hates it

On the other hand - man loves how flexible humans are

The first time you flop down onto your bed, assuming a position that would be impossible for any demon or angel to take but is deemed “comfortable” by you, Simeon is enraptured

It’s not sexual, he just thinks it’s really amazing that you have so much control over your body when he can hardly do a standing glute stretch without breaking a limb

It’s almost funny, his fixation

Actually no - it’s not almost funny. It is wholly and completely hilarious, and you will not stop leading him further down this rabbit hole

When you send this man picture of an contortionist, he’s utterly mesmerized

Show him human ballet, and he will not stop watching it

So yeah

He appreciates parts of the human body, hates others - but as long as you never crack your muscles in front of him, he’s down

Also - after you’ve thoroughly interested him in the art of being a human, he may just write about it in his next book. If you read the next set of chronicles detailed by Christopher Peugeot, you already know who the “feisty but good-hearted human who can bend themselves into a pretzel” is based on

(Bonus: Do a body roll in front of him and he might faint - man knew the human body could but like that? You might just have corrupted an angel)

Luke

“So...cool...!”

Boi loves it

He cheers you on like a champ, laughing merrily as you crack your knuckles into oblivion, scaring away the other residents in Purgatory Hall

And no matter how many times Simeon warns him not to urge you on (”The human already has no sense of self-preservation, and you don’t need to help that along,” he said), Luke can’t help but watch with excited eyes as you show him how different the human body is

He’s almost like Levi with his ardent admiration, and he honestly finds nothing disturbing about the sound of you cracking knuckles

Just finds it cool

It actually serves as a catalyst for his relationship with Solomon, because Luke will 100% go up to him and ask him whether he can crack his body like you, and obviously, the man will laugh and prove that centuries of knowledge have made him better than the average human - even in this area

But yeah

You can really see his inner child come out

(Though don’t say that last part out loud - he’ll ignore you for three days in an attempt to be “mature” before you convince him to accept your apology)

But really - he may be the only person who can not only tolerate the quirks of your body, but openly endorses all of them

On the downside, though, he’ll also try to crack his knuckles...which won’t bode too well, given that his body was built to perfection by God

Boi almost rips his finger off

Simeon proceeds to instate a no-cracking-knuckles rule within Purgatory Hall to discourage any further attempts from Luke

But you know what he didn’t ban?

Backflips.

It doesn’t matter if you can or you can’t do them - Luke will happen to see a video of a human doing one (ahem, Solomon showed him it in an attempt to stir up trouble), and now he’s begging you to do the same thing in real life

Which doesn’t work out too well, given that backflips are hard

And you may not be successful 100% of the time

And obviously, Simeon eventually finds out that the two of you have moved onto a new fixation, and so he instate the no-backflips-in-Purgatory-Hall rule

But you know what he didn’t ban? 

Cartwheels.

And so it continues on and on, indefinitely because the only way to cease your and Luke’s shenanigans would be to ban humans in Purgatory Hall, and Solomon is thankfully preventing him from doing that

Barbatos

Hates it, hates it, hates it

More than any of the brothers, more than any of the angels - this man loathes every oddity of the human body that makes it different from a demon’s

But not for the reasons you’d expect

See, it’s not the sound that bothers Barbatos

No, he’s heard the screams of the damned before. You cracking a few measly knuckles hardly makes him flinch as he pours your tea

But what Barbatos does hate is the fact that he doesn’t know what it means

Every single time you crack a knuckle in his presence, it doesn’t matter if the prince himself is speaking, because Barbatos’s eyes will fly straight to you

And yes - you guessed it:

Barbatos can’t tell the difference between the sound of you cracking your knuckles and the sound of you breaking a bone.

And for that reason, he hates it

It’s hardly his fault - he doesn’t even know if there is a difference between the two sounds. But this butler has no faith in you and no faith in humanity as a whole, so every time you crack your knuckles, it sends a rush of worry straight to his stomach, and the demon has to watch you for a solid ten seconds to make sure that you haven’t actually hurt yourself

Poor man

He’s the kind of guy to take everything in stride, so he'll probably never tell you how much he hates it when you crack your knuckles (and honestly, what would he say? “Hi, can you please stop cracking your knuckles because I care about you and it makes me concerned for your health???” No, that’s not going to work. And he doesn't know what will work, so he suffers in silence)

Seeing you stretch is even worse

It can be a casual stretch, simply pulling your arms above your head just slightly beyond what would be physically possible for a normal demon, but it sends a chill to Barbatos’s heart, and he’s worried all over again

See, when you crack your knuckles, at least it’s over. But when you stretch? Sometimes you hold your position for a minute, if not more - and Barbatos simply can’t turn away because he’s terrified that he will, and you’ll somehow hurt yourself

So yeah

No rest for this butler, not as long as you’re going around with that weak body of yours and are cracking and stretching your way into oblivion

On the bright side, it means that he’s almost always watching over you when you visit, an added layer of protection 

The only difference is that while the others are focused on protecting you from other demons, Barbatos is preoccupied with making sure you don’t hurt yourself

Diavolo

Timing is everything

And indeed, you just happen to be in the midst of cracking your knuckles and neck the moment you’re transported to the Devildom, every single one of the most powerful demons in the land staring at you in horror as your body pops some more

"Oh no,” Diavolo whispers, frowning as he looks at Barbatos. “We got a defective human :(”

Nevermind the insult you feel at his words (who does this strange, unfairly-attractive redhead think he is, calling you “defective???” He might be correct in his judgement, but he had no right to voice his thoughts!), you are shook

Definitely not the best first impression for either of you to make

Of course, Lucifer is quick to pick things up with his explanation of what this place is and who he is, and the whole situation is mostly forgotten as you come to realize that you’re standing in front of a literal prince

But the past has a way of resurfacing

And obviously, several months later, you crack your knuckles once more in the presence of the demon lord

The immediate wince on his face is more than enough for you to read his mind

“You’re thinking I’m defective again, aren’t you?”

“YOU REMEMBER THAT?!”

Poor bby

He’s honestly such a brilliant ruler, but when it comes to maneuvering the minds of humans, it’s just not his strong suit

Anyway, the two of you have a long talk (aka you rant and Diavolo listens) where you explain to him that cracking knuckles is a normal phenomenon, and that - look, you can even crack other parts of your body

And the prince is fascinated

He knew humans were built differently than demons, but he’d simply assumed that your body was just as perfect as his, and that yours could simply handle less extreme conditions

Clearly, though, that wasn’t the case

Man decides that, as the ruler of hell and the man spearheading efforts to unite the three realms, it is his moral obligation to learn about the other ways humans differ from demons

And so the shenanigans begin

It’s honestly time-consuming, but Lucifer doesn’t mind because if you’re with Diavolo, you’re out of trouble, and Barbatos doesn’t mind because if Diavolo’s with you, then he’s out of trouble

All in all, it becomes the prelude to a LOT of time spent together, and a LOT of differences between demons and humans come to light. 

Aka various iterations of “What do you mean, humans can’t bite through steel?”

[mrsmaybank]

Crushing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

“Reid, stop giving JJ’s intern bedroom eyes. It fuckin’ weirds me out.”

A/N: I love baby genius, season one Reid so much. I wanted to give him a soulmate. Soulmate is you: shy and also a baby genius. Okay, thanks for reading. This was honestly just for me. 

CW: Implied Smut, Mild Cursing, shitty writing 

“Who...Who is that?” Dr. Spencer Reid, debatably the wordiest boy Derek Morgan had ever met, was suddenly at a loss for words. Maybe it was your perfectly sculpted face, your shoes, the copy of The Kreutzer Sonata held to your chest, your chest, or maybe a mix of it all.  Whatever it was, at sight of you walking through the office doors, he was stripped of his ability to speak. 

“That’s JJ’s new intern.” Morgan said plainly, before noticing the completely enamored look on his friend’s face. “What, pretty boy?” Reid couldn’t even be bothered to reply. He was too busy studying every detail of your frame. 

“You think she’s cute or something kid?” Morgan playfully jabbed his shoulder, Spencer’s face instantly flushing an embarrassing shade of red. 

“What?!” He shrieked, “I-no! That’s not..No!” That’s a lie. 

“I just..I didn’t know JJ was getting an intern.” That though, was true. 

“She’s supposed to be pretty impressive. Let’s go meet her.” he started in the direction of the coffee stand, where you and JJ had begun chatting. Before Spencer could protest out of his shyness, he was being dragged along. 

“Morgan,” JJ smiled, “Spence,” she nodded in his direction, “This is Y/N Y/L/N. My godsent savior.” JJ beamed in your direction.

You smiled more sheepishly then you would’ve liked, muttering a “Hopefully.” that got a laugh from Morgan and a “Oh, please.” from JJ, but nothing from the man in the glasses. You did your best not to read into it. 

“Derek Morgan.” the muscular agent extended his hand to shake yours, an offer you timidly but happily accepted. 

The taller, lankier, younger, incredibly cute man next to him stuffed one of his hands in his pocket and shifted uncomfortably with a small wave, “I’m uh, Doctor Spencer Reid, oh! Uh, you don’t have to, uh call me Doctor. No..” He shook his head, “Just Spencer is fine.” He looked at you with wide eyes that sent butterflies berserk in your stomach and swiped his tongue in between his lips that only made them go crazier. JJ had told you all about the team. About the magnificently brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid, his 3 PhDs and eidetic memory, and all the other quirks you’d have to know in order to work with him, but had failed to mention how utterly hot he was. You felt a crush hijacking your system already. Dear god. 

“It’s nice to meet you both.” Your hands gripped your book tighter as you shifted onto your tiptoes, “I’ve heard really exceptional things.” 

The conversation was set to continue, but Morgan and JJ were summoned by Hotch to the closed doors of his office. Leaving the resident genius and you starting at each other with tight lip smiles. 

Spencer started first, “The Kreutzer Sonata is great.” He excitedly continued, “It uh, it actually used to be a pretty bold book to carry around. After the work had been forbidden in Russia by censors, there was actually a mimeographed version that was widely circulated. Then in 1890, the United States Post Office Department prohibited the mailing of newspapers containing serialized installments of it too. Theodore Roosevelt even called Tolstoy a-” 

His enthusiasm was beyond endearing. You finished for him with a soft smile, "Sexual moral pervert.”

Spencer’s lips upturned in a smile. It was rare somebody in the office could finish his sentences. And he couldn’t help but replay the crass words being said in your soft voice. He felt a crush hijacking his system already. Dear god.  

“Most people don’t recognize it in the original Russian.”  Spencer heard you say. 

“Most people probably wouldn’t recognize it in English.” he retorted.

You laughed, “Yeah, you’re right.” 

Spencer wasn’t even kidding. “I’m not joking.” He shook his head. “It’s unfortunate how many people aren’t even vaguely familiar with Tolstoy.” 

“It is.” you agreed. “You went to Caltech, correct?” 

He smiled, “Yes.” 

“I almost did too. Decided last minute on Columbia.” 

“You went to Columbia?” he asked. 

“I just graduated.” 

“How old are you?” he asked before quickly correcting himself,  “I’m sorry! That was forward! I am not...I’m not trying to undermine your studies with your age, I promise. I’m just curious.” 

“No! It’s okay!” You got out fast. “I’m 19. I graduated high school a little bit early.” 

“Me too.” He smiled. “12, actually.” 

Your eyes went wide, “12?” 

“Yes, um, in a Las Vegas public high school.” He winced, but the self-deprecation somehow came out charming, “I uh,” His eyes narrowed, “didn’t go to a lot of parties.” 

That made you wholeheartedly laugh. “Me neither! I graduated at 15, which you know is the age everybody else starts. It created a really weird dynamic because the older kids in my grade didn’t like me, but the underclassmen my age really didn’t like me.” 

Instead of the laugh you were expecting, Spencer just gave you a pensive stare. 

“Um..I can’t see why. I think you’re very likeable.” The compliment would’ve been strange exchanged by anybody other than Spencer to you.

  “Wait till you get to know me.” You said it through a smile but so softly you were afraid he might not be able to hear it, but he did. 

And that was confirmed when he flashed you the most incredible, toothy grin you’d ever seen. “I uh, I doubt there will be any change in opinion.” 

“Well, um, I’m sure- I think! You’re very likeable as well Dr. Reid.” you said. 

“That’s what you say now.” He retorted in the same coy tone you had earlier. 

You shook your head, “You’ll find I can be insufferably stubborn.” 

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

After two weeks, there was little Spencer could do to hide his massive crush affinity for you from the team. 

In the bullpen: 

You guys had locked eyes and were mouthing out exchanged of No’s and Yes’s from across the room. There was an ongoing half-serious dispute about whether or not Xanthippe slept with Plato. 

Morgan glided in his wheeled chair to whisper into Spencer’s ear. 

“Reid, stop giving JJ’s intern bedroom eyes. It fuckin’ weirds me out.” He said, shoving files into the cabinet below Reid’s desk. 

“I’m..I’m not.. I--what? Bedr--No!” Reid whisper-shouted back. 

On the jet: 

“Reid?” Gideon called Spencer, “Chess?” He motioned towards the board. 

“Yes, sure. Just give me a second. I’m almost done. I’m reading Infinite Jest. I don’t usually enjoy literature if it isn’t classic, even less so if it’s American. But..” Spencer smiled, “Y/N likes the author.”  He continued his fast-paced reading of the third-to-last chapter of the book. 

Morgan and Gideon exchanged glances. 

Even in front of you: 

You opened a sugar packet and began stirring. 

“De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium is still some of the best work on  heliocentric theory out there, I think. Copernicus knew what he was talking about!” You spun on your heels to see Reid’s face contorted in disagreement. You giggled, “Don’t give me that face! I’m right!” 

He took a sip of his coffee as to keep himself quiet. “Listen, cosmological theory is for…” 

But the pair of you were interrupted, it was Elle, standing behind you and in front of Spencer. 

“New skirt?” Elle asked as you turned, back now facing Reid.  She was pouring herself a cup of coffee too.

“Yes!” You excitedly nodded. “You like it?” 

Elle looked up and down, but not at you. The judgmental eyes were for the man behind you. She pursed her lips, “Not just me.” 

The only face redder than yours was Reid’s.

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

Nights spent in a bar after a case that had dragged on far too long was nothing new, but the energy tonight was especially light. Gideon had refused, but everybody else was just relaxed, even Hotch, and the team just got happier at each other's happiness. It was great, really. As Hotch and Morgan sipped on whiskey, JJ and Penelope had already downed four sugary, colorful cocktails and were in a whispered fit of giggles. Elle and Spencer settled on a tamer option of an IPA Spencer couldn’t name. 

“SPENCER!” Penelope excitedly shouted, “Y/N is literally you! You’re both adorable! You’re both geniuses! You’re both young!” She drew on her rant, “And if you have a crush on her you should just tell her!” JJ’s eyes widened in embarrassment as she tried to cover Penelope’s mouth. 

Morgan and Elle erupted in soft laughter while Hotch cracked an uncharacteristically amused smile. 

“Spence, I swear, I didn’t say that! I just...I may have mentioned how happy you get every time she’s around! And how you guys can talk for literally hours!” JJ defended, her words slurring in silly drunkenness. 

Spencer rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time they teased him about you, and it probably wouldn’t be the last time either. 

“I don’t have a crush on her! We just….we like the same things! It gives us a lot to talk about.” 

“Yeah?” Morgan said through a laugh, “And what is it that boy and girl wonder talk about so much?” 

“Well, uh.. a lot of things. But I find she gets the most excited when we are discussing the theories of postmodernism, in that apparent realities are actually just social constructs and veritable realities are subject to change, and uh... we like to talk about linguistics….political philosophy….history... mathematic theory...and uh, oh! Doctor Who.” 

Spencer was blushing and spoke about you like a teenage girl did their boyband crush, and the team noticed. They didn’t even need to say it out loud. Spencer gathered from the way they looked back at him. 

“I heard she lent you a book too, Reid.” Hotch said before taking a sip from his glass. 

“Yes! She did!” He smiled, “It was her copy of Pale Fire. She has an impressive collection of 19th century Russian literature. All in its original dialect! Some of it’s even annotated, which usually would annoy me but since it’s her thoughts and notes I sort of find it endearing.” 

“Dr. Reid is endeared!” Greenaway shrieked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, pushing his glasses up a little higher on his nose, “I find her incredibly endearing.” 

“Y’all that sounded like a dorky love confession.” Morgan said as the team erupted in laughter and Reid’s head fell in a smile. There was no point in denying it anymore: He really, really liked you.

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

Within two months, you and Spencer had finally put your shyness aside, and spent a very lovely evening at watching an orchestra at the Smithsonian Music,  and sharing noodles at your favorite Thai restaurant. And then you guys spent some time on your couch. And then in your bed. And then in the shower. And then in the kitchen. You were both very sexually frustrated. 

For the following two months, as soon as you both stepped out of the office, it was very, very hard to keep your hands off each other. Could either of you help it though? Teenage geniuses don’t experience parties, or football games, or clumsy sex. The time was perfect to make up for it. 

And you guys did. The sex part at least. “Football involves a lot of dirt. And germs. And sweat.”

“Oh my god!” you shrieked. His hands were in a place they found themselves more and more often: Your pants. 

“Does it feel good?” he asked, continuing his pattern of small circles on that particular bundle of nerves. 

“It feels great.” You nodded. 

“I uh, I’ve been researching the female anatomy.” 

You closed your eyes and nodded your head, but trying to focus on your boyfriends newfound intellect. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it?” 

He watched your undoing with boyish adoration and curiosity before swallowing, “Very.” 

“Oh fuck!” Your legs began to shake, “Spencee...I’m gonn--” 

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

You and Spencer just understood each other. 

[solomonish]

Shy MC Likes to be Traditionally Courted! (Simeon, Barbatos, Lucifer, Solomon)

here you go! i went ahead and only did the courting ask, but you’re more than welcome to send in another ask if you so please!

Lucifer

I feel like this would be the style he would default to. After all, it wouldn’t be very befitting of him to be the subject of some hot and heavy scandal, now would it?

I mean, Lucifer, if left to his own devices, might be the type to go for one of those relationship where the “stolen moments” are a bit heavier (you know, like “oh mc how random for us to be in this empty classroom that i totally didn’t usher you into lol wouldn’t it be funny if we started making out though”) but if you indicate that you’d prefer a more...traditional route, he certainly won’t complain.

Really likes to walk with your hand on his arm. It reeks of class and he can’t fight the satisfied smile on his face when you instinctively reach for him.

His favorite dates are ones where he can justify bringing you to some small Diavolo-related business party. He only makes sure you’re going to the smaller ones where you won’t be overwhelmed or aren’t supposed to be as an exchange student, but having a human there does bode well for Diavolo’s exchange program so you’re always extended an invite. Even if Lucifer says he doesn’t need a break from the business side of things, Diavolo always encourages him to dance with you so you get “the full experience.” 

He really loves having his hand just above your waist as you dance with some of the other demons around you, allowing him a chance to breathe outside of the stuffy political conversations he has to sit through with Diavolo. It’s calming to him, and since these events are technically business related, it’s easier for him to steal you away without the other brothers accusing him of hoarding you.

Barbatos

Another one where this style really meshes well with him just in general. Barbatos naturally falls into this sort of servitude mode - though he knows how to keep it balanced in a more equal relationship dynamic such as significant others as opposed to prince and butler - and the little affections he gives you throughout the day will make you feel like you’re courting him even if that wasn’t what you explicitly wanted.

Honestly, you might feel like you’re engaged in some sort of forbidden affair within the palace walls on some days too, even if you both know Diavolo is probably the most supportive of your relationship.

He’s already in the habit of pulling out chairs for you and planning small dates in the middle of his day, and he has no qualms about making a little extra time to allow you to take his arm as he walks you to and from your classes.

One thing he really likes to do is to call you after he gets home from dropping you off after one of your dates. He thinks it’s nicer than just sending a text that he made it home, and he can normally keep you on the line while finishing up his nightly duties when he’s not quite ready to quit talking to you for the day.

Solomon

While I don’t think this is what Solomon would expect to be asked to do (and you would have to ask him, or hint at it at the least because he’s watched general dating expectations shift from traditional courting over time and will probably default to the norms of today), I don’t think he’d be upset by it. Actually, he might find he likes the idea of courting.

What can he say? He finds the whole “taking it slow” aspect relaxing and it helps him get out of his own head. There’s a lot less guessing involved this way and he finds it pretty easy to just enjoy the time he spends with you rather than worry about getting what you want to do right.

Will probably shoot random facts at you while he’s taking you to and from RAD - “did you know that some people used to carve spoons for the person they were courting? i can give you one with my name on it”

“wow, cool fact. did you know that before or did you look it up a few days ago?”

“...do you want a spoon or not, MC?”

Would definitely scour the internet or books or anything for some of the weirder customs to present to you just for the purpose of getting a rise out of you.

BUT! He does also take it seriously. He knows how to get tickets to any orchestra playing in town and will never leave you at the door to the House of Lamentation without a kiss to the top of your hand. (it becomes a habit eventually and he’ll be kissing the top of your hand every time he leaves you at a door, whether it be to a classroom, your house, whatever. even if he’s in the middle of a sentence. it’s kind of cute actually but don’t tell him that. or do.)

His favorite thing to do is to take you out on a romantic picnic at night when you’re supposed to be finishing your tasks. The whole “sneaking out the window” thing might be a little out of your comfort zone, but sometimes Lucifer just won’t let you out and hey, the stars ARE beautiful.....

Simeon

Simeon notices you aren’t responding as easily to the more casual affections he initiates at first. So he asks you about it straight up - “Is there any particular way you’d like me to go about this? I want to make sure I’m making you happy.”

And when you shyly answer that you’d like to try something a little more old-fashioned, his eyes light up.

He takes it seriously! But he also can’t help but feel like he’s in some historical romance, and maybe he’s getting inspiration for a short story, but let’s not get into that before it even makes it onto paper!

As an angel, he’s familiar with how a lot of people court, keeping the intimacy to a “respectable” level and focusing on compatibility for commitment. But he has to say, he likes your version a little better, how it’s less about two families testing the waters and a lot more romantic. He thinks it’s unbearably cute how you still get flustered at the smallest gestures.

His favorite thing to do is to walk in the Devildom botanical gardens, strolling at a leisurely pace and paying more attention to each other than the flowers. He thinks the whole experience of the pleasant weather and the sweet scent of the flowers wafting through the air is the perfect backdrop for what definitely feels like a dream come true for him.

[themayforce]

Pretty in Pink - Part 2

Link to part 1

Summary: After the events down on the planet, you're not sure how to talk to Rex about it. But luckily, Fives and Echo are here to help.

Description: Things get steamy again in this one. Afab!Reader (no gendered language), foursome, double (or i guess triple) penetration (in both holes), unprotected sex (wrap it up fellas), some degradation, and a little bit of spanking

Rating: 18+ explicit

Pairings: Rex+Fives+Echo/Reader

Words: 7481 (literally i only just found out about this word count and uhhhh i don't know how this happened)

There aren’t enough hours in a day for all the work you have to get done. Since getting back to Coruscant, it's like you've been stuck in an endless meeting with every possible senator, advisor, administrator, or whatever title these politicians had chosen to use. The first few meetings had been important, but soon you had no real part in the discussions anymore and you just watched from the back of the room, exhausted.

It doesn't help that events from a certain planet keep replaying in your mind like a holovid stuck on a loop, glitching and catching on moments and phrases you should not be thinking about in the middle of a meeting room. The heat in your face and your anxiety about it make you even more tired, and after a week of these negotiations you're very glad when you can finally get home before dark for once.

The lights in your apartment automatically switch on when you open the door. The soft pink and orange hues from the sunset outside drape over your living room like a blanket and you spend a few minutes just looking out the window, admiring the view over the city, something you didn’t take as much time for as you should.

No matter how hard you try, it’s impossible to empty your mind these days. Your little … adventure with your three clone friends left its marks on you, both emotionally and physically. They’re fading now, but every time you see yourself in the mirror before showering they jump out at you: two rows of bruises on either side of your hips, unmistakably finger shaped. Rex’s handiwork. And the worst part is that it turns you on more than you’d ever care to admit.

You haven’t spoken to Rex at all since flying back on the shuttle. He had been in two of the same meetings as you, sure, but only awkward glances were exchanged, no words. It bothers you, having these feelings fester inside you, but you have no idea how to approach the subject. If you send him a comlink message, what are you even supposed to say? ‘Hey Captain, I think we should discuss how you fucked my kriffing brains out and then pretended it never happened?’

The day after you got back, Fives and Echo had been waiting for you after your checkup in the medbay, bless their hearts. You had all agreed to leave out the specifics of what had happened in your official reports, but a warning had been attached to that planet’s datalog. Avoid the pink flowers: toxic to most humanoids. With those two guys, you can laugh about it now, and you’re grateful for it. Fives seems more relaxed around you, more open. You haven’t forgotten that he called you beautiful, that he held your hand and brushed the hair out of your face. You see the way he looks at you, and it melts you, the way a hot cup of caf on a cold day does. But you just can’t seem to examine your feelings about Fives, not while Rex’s fire burns inside you so vigorously.

If you don’t talk to him soon, you probably never will, and you’re not sure you can take that. You get a glass of water from the kitchen and down it in one go before laying down on your couch, comlink in hand.

Should you call him? Leave him a holo message? Or just a text message? He’s probably very busy, probably doesn’t even have time to meet with you, but there’s no way you can talk it out over the com. The little device feels heavy in your hand as you type out the message ‘Can we talk?’, and your thumb hovers over the send button. What if he says no? Or just doesn’t reply? What if he’s trying to forget what happened, and bringing it up will just anger him? But he’d called you perfect, had fucked you like a man possessed. You look like such a good little whore. Those words won’t stop echoing in your mind.

You press your face into a throw pillow and groan. “Stupid clones,” you mutter to yourself. “Stupid, sexy clones.”

It’s only when the buzzer to your front door wakes you up that you notice you had dozed off in the first place. Quickly, you smooth out your clothes and flip the throw pillow over with the drool-stained side down. You're not expecting any guests -- you were too tired to make plans this week -- so you're frowning when you open the door.

Your frown turns into a surprised smile when you see Fives and Echo standing in front of you. Their helmets are tucked under their arm, and Fives is holding a bottle of something that looks like alcohol, while Echo has a plain white box in his hands.

"Hey there, sunshine," Fives says with a sheepish grin that nestles itself in your heart.

"Guys! What's all this?"

“Hope this isn’t a bad time,” Fives starts, but Echo interrupts him.

“Fives wanted to-” A sharp look from his friend makes him rephrase his sentence. “Fives and I wanted to check up on you.”

“We saw you in one of the meeting rooms today, and you looked tired, so- oh, not that you look bad, you still look great, just-” You laugh, and that puts Fives at ease. He smiles back at you.

“You’re really too sweet. Please, come in.”

You step aside to let your friends into your home, both of them still wearing their armor. They must have come here right after their shift, and it warms your heart that they chose to see you instead of getting their well-earned rest.

“Brought you something,” Fives says, handing you the bottle he’s holding. “Thought you might like a drink.” It‘s a familiar bottle to you, the most common type of Corellian Red on the market, and one of your favorites, which Fives remembered.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have. But you’re absolutely right. I could really use a drink.”

Echo’s white box happens to be the best kind of box: a cake box, and time flies by while the three of you eat cake and empty the wine bottle. It’s nice, really nice, to just hang out like this. Despite the unspoken truth between you and Fives, it doesn’t feel awkward -- instead it draws something giddy and flirtatious out of you, though that may be in part due to the wine. One third of a bottle isn’t enough to get you drunk, but it’s definitely enough to get you tipsy, and soon enough you have your legs in Fives’ lap on the couch. He rubs circles on your calves with his thumb. He blushes. Echo laughs. The whole thing is adorable.

For the second time tonight, the buzzer of the front door interrupts you. This time, aided by the buzz of alcohol, you’re a lot more relaxed as you make your way across the room, glass in hand. There’s music playing from a concert on your holoscreen -- you don’t know the song or the singer, but the rhythm puts a spring in your step and there’s a smile on your face when you open the door.

Your expression shifts to one of open-mouthed confusion when you are met with another set of blue and white plastoid armor, worn by the man you so desperately wanted to talk to earlier today. And that's not all -- clutched in Rex's hands is a beautiful bouquet of yellow and white flowers, perfectly arranged like it's come straight out of a holo-ad for one of those high-end florists from Naboo.

You're speechless. Absolutely floored. Not just by the fact that Captain Rex brought you flowers, but that he decided to do this now, tonight, after ignoring you for over a week and- oh no. Did you accidentally send that comlink message? Is that why he's here? You would never even have considered sending it if you knew you'd have company tonight, but Rex doesn't know that and now he's here and so are Fives and Echo and every possible explanation you can give will bring trouble.

Blood rushes to your head as you try to think of something to say, but Fives and Echo beat you to it.

"Captain!" they exclaim in almost perfect unison while they jump up from their seats.

"Captain…" you repeat, at a loss for any other words. "I- I wasn't expecting-" You can't finish your sentence. Rex looks like he's going through all stages of grief simultaneously -- jaw tightening, brows furrowing, while his gaze darts between you and the clones behind you.

"I'll come back another time."

“No!” you say before you can stop yourself, “I mean, you’re welcome to come have a drink?” It’s embarrassing, the sheepish way you’re smiling at him, but he did just bring you flowers.

“Are those for me?” you ask, gesturing at the bouquet. Rex looks at the flowers like he had temporarily forgotten he was holding them, then hands them over to you.

“Yes. I hope you uh,” he hesitates, “are feeling better.”

“I am, thank you.”

This is unbearable. You want to scream, to either pull him inside or slam the door in his face, anything to make this painful situation end. You can feel Fives’ eyes burn into you from behind you, knowing that you have to explain why his kriffing Captain is bringing you flowers, when you can’t even explain it to yourself.

“So do you w-” you begin to invite Rex inside, pointing your thumb towards the living room, but he starts speaking at the same time.

“I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight. Troopers.”

With a curt nod and a sharp turn, he marches down the walkway, away from you.

You rush over to the low table next to your couch where you left your comlink and after you lay the bouquet down you check your message history. The words ‘Can we talk’ are still blinking up at you from the bottom of the display, unsent. The whole thing was a kriffing coincidence.

“So,” Echo says, pressing a button on the holoscreen to mute it, “what just happened?”

You groan as you let yourself drop down on the couch. Fives sits back down next to you, but his posture isn’t as relaxed as it was a few minutes ago.

“I don’t know if I should talk about it,” you say softly, burying your face in your hands.

"He …" Fives sighs deeply and turns his body towards you. "He also got involved back on that planet, didn't he?"

You nod without looking up. No point in lying about it now, and besides, it was Rex who decided to be weird about the whole thing.

"Said so, didn't I?" Echo says.

"Kriff, yeah, you were right. I really must've slept through it."

Now you sit up, bouncing your gaze between the two of them. “You knew?” you ask, confused.

“Not for sure,” Echo replies, “I stepped away for half an hour or so to fix the transmitter. But something was different about the Captain when I got back.”

Yeah, you could say that. It would’ve been a lot easier if he hadn’t been so secretive about the whole thing.

"I wanted to talk to him about it, but I thought he was avoiding me… Well, until-"

"Until he showed up unannounced at your apartment with flowers," Fives interrupts. There’s a small grin on his face as he shakes his head. "Stars, he's hopeless. We should give him some pointers."

Pointers? He wants Rex to be, what? Better at courting you?

“Wait… I thought-”

“I’d be jealous? Eh, a little, I can’t deny that. But one thing you need to know about clones,” Fives says with a knowing look to Echo, “is that we’re very good at sharing.”

His words make your face burn, your cheeks feel like the twin suns of Tatooine with how hot they are, and your breath hitches in your throat.

Echo chuckles at your reaction and moves to sit down on the couch as well. Stars, why was it making you so flustered to be sandwiched between the two of them?

“Fives was right. You really are cute when you get nervous.”

“I’m always right,” Fives jokes in return, “but more importantly…” He leans over and gently presses his thumb and index finger against your chin, turning your head to look at him. “Would you like that, sunshine? The three of us sharing you?” His thumb now grazes over your bottom lip. If he keeps this up, you might forget how to speak. Or forget your own kriffing name.

“Y-yes,” you whisper.

“Good.” He holds your gaze lovingly, his eyes darting down to your bottom lip. You’re hoping he might kiss you, but then he takes his hand away and smiles slightly.

“Better ask the Captain to come back, then.”

You fumble with your comlink and almost drop it while you type your new message to Rex. ‘Please come back. We want to talk to you.’ That’s the line you all agreed upon.

“While we wait…” Echo leans closer to you and lowers his voice. “Fives here never shuts up about wanting to kiss you.”

“Echo!” Fives hisses, embarrassed.

“Sooo,” you say, turning to him with a bashful grin, “what are you waiting for, then?”

Fives blinks a few times, and then with one swooping motion he pulls you into his lap, and puts his mouth to yours. His lips are sweet from the cake and the wine, his hands warm as he holds onto your waist. He’s firm and soft at the same time and it’s perfect -- until you move slightly and part of his armor pinches your skin, making you wince.

“Okay, you better take this off now,” you say, tapping one of his thigh plates with your fingernail, “or someone’s gonna get hurt.”

“That a promise?” Fives mutters against your cheek, making you giggle.

It’s touching how much care they put in taking off their armor. Just by watching them undress you can tell how important it is to them, almost sacred. They put every piece neatly on top of the other in the same way, like they were taught precisely how. Soon they stand before you in their tight black underclothes, still completely covered, but softer to the touch. The stretchy fabric doesn’t hide much. In fact, it accentuates the shape of their muscles and, well, other parts. You chew on your lip while you watch them move closer to you.

“Your turn, sunshine,” Fives states. “Let’s give the Captain a little surprise when we open the door for him.”

A small whine escapes your lips when you process his words, but you gladly oblige. As soon as you stand up from the couch, they’re on either side of you, so close it’s almost dizzying. They help you undo the clasps on your outfit and soon enough, you’re left only in your underclothes. Nothing fancy -- it was supposed to just be a regular work day when you got dressed this morning -- but at least it was a matching pair. Fives can’t seem to help himself and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that send shivers down your spine and he makes his way back up past your jaw, until he captures your mouth again. His second kiss is more intense, deeper, hotter, and as his tongue moves against yours, you feel the wetness between your thighs increasing. While Fives kisses you, Echo runs his fingers down your breastbone softly, before brushing them over your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. He’s gentle, like he doesn’t want to distract you from Fives’ kiss, but it still makes you shiver, the hairs on your arms standing up with the thrill of it.

And then, the buzzer again. When Echo goes to open the door, you instinctively want to turn around, too shy to face Rex in your state of undress, but Fives holds you with your back to his chest and his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them softly. He presses a kiss to your temple.

When the door swings open, your eyes meet Rex’s almost instantly.

"What's going on?" Rex asks, but his voice isn't demanding. Quite the opposite, there's almost a quiver in it as his gaze moves over your body, then quickly away again.

Echo leads him into the room by the back of his arm and smirks.

"Well, Captain, Fives and I have a little … gift for you, if you want to join us."

"We know you got involved, sir. With the toxin situation. No need to be ashamed. In fact, I think we can all benefit from this situation." Fives’ mouth comes up right next to your ear and you can feel the tickle of his goatee. "Why don't you tell him what you told us?" Fives whispers to you. Kriff, he wants you to proposition Rex? Out loud?

"I-I… well…" Alright, breathe, you can do this. You know what you want.

"I want… I want all three of you."

Rex’s eyes seem to darken, his posture heavy when he walks over to you. Fives lets go of you now, taking a step back to give the two of you more space.

"Stars," Rex breathes, "y-you're sure?"

"I'm sure." To help ease his doubts, you trace a path up his armor with your hands, resting your arms around his neck, and kiss him. He seems frozen for a second against your lips, but then he returns your kiss eagerly, warm hands grazing over your hips. When he touches you, his breath hitches, remembering you are near-naked in front of him. He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

“I felt- I thought I had taken advantage of you. You were so vulnerable, and I was- I couldn’t control myself, I was too rough-”

"Look," you say softly, turning around to show him the remnants of your bruises.

"Is that- did I do that? Kriff, I didn't intend to-"

You interrupt him. "You can do it again, if you want. Keep doing it, so they never fade.”

Rex swallows, but before he can reply you come up with a new idea.

"I want to thank the three of you for saving my life," you say, and you can't help the shy smile that graces your face as you unclasp your bra, shaking it off and revealing your breasts. You take Fives and Rex by the hand and look Echo in the eye sweetly as you lead the three of them to your bedroom.

"There's no need-" Fives interrupts, but you shush him with a finger to his lips.

"I'm going to thank you," you say more firmly this time. You press a quick kiss to his lips before sinking to your knees before him, your eyes lining up with the visible hard-on under his clothes. Your fingers find the waistband of his black compression pants and his briefs below them.

"Oh, stars, sunshine-" His words catch in his throat when you peel the fabric down, revealing his bare cock to you, exactly the way you remembered it. Fuck, you'd fantasized about this late at night, pushing your own fingers into your mouth, imagining how much their cocks might fill you. You can't help but lick your lips before gently wrapping your hand around the base, drawing soft curses from Fives' lips. Your tongue finds the head of his cock, giving it a few kitten licks before letting your lips wrap around it. You hum contentedly as you let him enter further into your mouth, gently licking and sucking and reeling with pride whenever you draw a noise out of him. When you take him in as far as you can go without gagging, you feel his hand coming to rest on top of your head and you let him guide your pace.

"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing, sweetheart. You- you wanna show the other guys what you can do too?"

You whine when he takes his cock out of your mouth, but then you realize he meant show them right now, at the same time, because both Rex and Echo have taken their compression pants off (and Rex his armor, too) and you're greeted by two more of their cocks, hard and leaking and so close to your face.

"My lucky day," you joke, but your heart is beating fast with the knowledge you haven't exactly done this before. You just hope you can give all of them the attention they deserve.

Rex stands closest to you, and his cock twitches as you reach to hold it. His hips jerk forward when you press your tongue flat against the underside, tracing a vein that runs all the way along it. Just like Fives, he reaches for your head -- when you take one of his balls into your mouth and suckle on it softly, his fingers tighten their grip into your hair, his breath hitching with every stroke of your hand along his cock. After you give the other ball some attention, you move back to his cock, bobbing your head along it gently until he suddenly thrusts forward, hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.

"Kriff, sorry-"

But you persevere, spurred on to try and take him even deeper even with tears forming in your eyes. The sounds of you struggling to take him down your throat are joined with the sounds of Fives and Echo stroking their own cocks lazily on either side of you. It's lewd, but deliciously so, and your cunt throbs knowing that it's the sight of you that's turning them on.

You swallow around Rex's cock and he curses again, pulling himself out of your mouth.

"I won't l-last long if you keep that up, beautiful," he says, wiping some saliva mixed with precum away from your chin. Your stomach flutters at the pet name, a silly youngling feeling that feels unfitting to the current situation, but you find yourself wanting to hear it again and again.

Instead you turn again to take care of Echo, who seems to be enjoying himself -- his hand is wrapped tightly around the base of his cock and he smiles down at you.

"Your turn, mister," you tease, and a small chuckle escapes his throat.

"Stars, baby, you’re so cute."

Smiling, you lick up the sizable drop of precum that has formed at the head of his cock, drawing small circles around the opening with your tongue. Then much like before, you try to fit as much of him inside you as possible until you gag again -- the unpleasant feeling is somehow unbearably arousing to you, just knowing that his cock is so big, knowing your throat and jaw will hurt after, it sends lightning straight down between your legs.

"Look at me, baby," Echo coos fondly, "that's right, you like my cock, don't you, pretty eyes?"

You nod weakly, turning your attention back to the rhythm you had found while hollowing out your cheeks, when he pulls out of your mouth.

"Gotta keep it fair," he says with a grin while you feel a pair of hands turning you around again.

You service the three of them like this for a while, switching between their cocks while using your hands on the others. You must be an obscene sight, lips swollen and plump, saliva dribbling down your chin, and with every passing minute you're grinding your hips more and more, rubbing your legs together to find pleasure.

"Getting needy, aren't you, sunshine?" Fives teases, his voice raspy as you stroke his cock which is now slippery and shiny with precum and your spit. You hum around Rex, who has gotten to the point where he's thrusting shallowly into your mouth. Your gag reflex seems to have been conquered for the time being. They do say practise makes perfect.

It's Rex who comes first with a groan, his cum filling your throat while he holds your head in place, your nose grazing the hairs around the base of his cock.

"Fuck," Fives says, his hand finding the back of your head, "open your mouth, sweetheart, that's it." You swallow as much of Rex's cum as you can in one go, then open your mouth wide, tongue sticking out. Rex lines himself up with your tongue, pumping his own cock in quick hard motions. He cums with a low, rumbling sigh and his release ends up mostly on your tongue, with some of it on your nose and cheek. Before you realize it, you hear Echo curse beside you and he also finishes, his cum landing on your face and chest, like a marking you're all too happy to wear.

The three of them seem pretty out of breath, and Rex sits down on your bed with a sigh. "Stars," he breathes, pulling the high collar of his shirt away from his neck to let in some cool air. "That was some kind of thank you."

It makes you giggle. He seems more at ease now, having been convinced by the benefits of this arrangement.

Seeing the three of them panting and sweating in your bedroom sends another molten shot of arousal straight to your cunt and you realize your underwear must be soaked by now.

Fives must have realized you were rubbing your legs together, a teasing edge appearing in his voice. "I think you enjoyed that just as much as we did, didn't you? Did that get you wet?"

"Mhm," you admit coyly, "very."

"I think we should do something about that."

With a yelp from you, Fives pulls you up off the floor with ease and you crash into his chest with his nose pressed into your hair.

"Why don't you lie down and let us take care of you?"

Your face turns hot and your cunt throbs with anticipation at his words. But there's one thing that needs to happen first. All of them are still a lot more dressed than you are.

"Shirts off first, all of you," you say with a grin, which they all return.

"Yes, general," Echo jokes, peeling his sweat-soaked undershirt over his head. Now all of them are naked before you, and you can see the differences in their bodies. Echo, despite being the lithest of the three, has the most defined musculature. Fives is slightly broader in the shoulders but narrower at the hips, and seemed to have a little bit of an edge in the body hair department. Rex is the broadest overall, and also the most scarred, with gashes and blaster burns all over his chest, arms, and back. All three of them are beautiful, perfect, and somehow in your bed.

You get comfortable on the mattress, back propped up against a pillow. Surprisingly, it's Rex who finds his way over to you first, the mattress dipping under his knees. He puts his hands (big, warm, calloused) on your knees and spreads your legs so he can get between them.

"B-been wanting to taste you for so long," he says, his voice a dark rumble that strikes you in your core.

"You better take what you want then, Captain." You're not sure where the daring edge in your tone comes from, but after just making three men come with just your hands and mouth, some confidence has gathered in your chest.

Rex slides your underwear off and spreads your lower lips with his thumbs, and you can hear him suck in a breath. Fives sits down on the bed next to you and chuckles.

"Naughty, so wet from sucking dick." You give him a playful nudge which turns into a desperate grasp the moment Rex starts licking your slit in long lines, his tongue putting pressure on your clit repeatedly.

"Oh, fuckkkk-" you moan, your head falling back onto Fives' shoulder. Echo has now sat down on the other side of you and has taken it upon himself to lazily stroke and pinch at your nipples, the small licks of pain making you whine louder. Rex's pace is relentless, not gentle at all, and you find yourself on the edge much sooner than expected. Your nails dig into Fives' arm when Rex adds his fingers into the mix, pumping them in and out and curving them to hit the perfect spot while he sucks hard on your clit until you see-

"Stars!" you cry out, your hips lifting themselves off the bed as you buck into his tongue, your first orgasm of the night hitting you hard and deep. Rex keeps his tongue pushed against you for a while longer, until you come down from your high, slumping back down into the mattress with your breathing heavy and your skin shiny.

"Didn't know you knew how to do that, Captain," Echo jokes, still playing with your tits almost absentmindedly.

Rex wipes some of your slick off his face with the back of his hand and grins. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

When he sits back up, you can't help but notice he's well on his way to being hard again -- so are the others. There's a glimmer of pride in your chest at the moan Fives lets out when you wrap your hands around his cock again. You roll over, knees tucked under you, and bend down to wrap your lips around him again. In this position, you realize your ass is up in the air at an inviting angle, and you spread your knees a little further apart to give the man behind you a good view. It works, because it only takes a few seconds for Rex to grab your ass roughly with both his hands. His fingers line up with the bruises he left there before, and you hope he remembered your plea for their renewal.

"Look at you… you need a cock to fill you up, don't you, sweetheart?”

You hum around Fives’ cock in response, who fists his hand in your hair.

“Or maybe…” Rex’s voice is dark and rumbling, a sound that goes straight to your cunt, but that’s not where he touches you next. His thumb brushes over your exposed asshole and you stop moving your hips instantly in surprise. "... more than one? Think you could do that for us?"

You let Fives' cock slide out of your mouth to reply, spit and precum leaving a stringy trail between you. "Yes, please, I'll be so good for you," you whine, wanting nothing more than precisely that, to be good, to be of use to them, to make them feel good because they deserve it, and you're giddy and proud that they want this from you and no one else.

There's a bottle of oil in your nightstand for occasions like these -- a gift from a friend months ago who swears by this brand, but you hadn't gotten much use out of it yet. After all his nervousness earlier, you were surprised Rex took charge now, although you suppose he had just needed some time to settle into this commanding role that seemed to come so naturally to him in everyday life. The three of them briefly discuss among themselves how they should take you, but you have a hard time paying attention to the specifics. You bite your lip at the thought of the three of them filling all of you, and you can't help but sneak your hand between your legs to put some pressure onto your throbbing clit.

"Uh-uh," Fives tuts at you with a crooked smile, "none of that, now." He grabs the offending hand first and then the other so you can't touch yourself anymore. He laughs when you pout, and it makes you want to kiss the corners of his mouth. "C'mere," he says, pulling you forward to straddle his lap, his erection pressed between your bellies. It feels good, being this close to him, your skin against his. His smirk is still there and so you do steal a kiss, softly rutting against him just to feel him moan into your mouth. "How about the two of us stay like this," he says in your ear, pulling you tighter towards him with a hand on your lower back, "and I get to see your pretty little face while the other guys fuck your ass, hm?" Oh stars above, nothing coherent can leave your mouth in response to that. You press your face into the crook of Fives' neck and whine a breathy please that makes him chuckle. "Alright then sunshine, up you get." His strong hands lift you upwards so you can position yourself over his cock. Like it's the best thing he's ever felt, his eyes flutter closed when you sink down onto him, giving an experimental roll of your hips that tightens his grip on your waist.

"Fuck, I forgot how fucking hot your pussy is," he groans, and you can tell he's exerting some self control not to start fucking your brains out right away. You feel another warm hand on your back and turn to catch a glimpse of Echo.

"Yeah, Fives, you do know how to pick 'em," he jokes softly, but there's something different about him -- out of the three of them, you keep feeling like Echo might not have been attracted to you as much, like he might be happier with some girl from 79's, but now… You wonder if he reeled his feelings in so he wouldn't hurt his friend-- no, maybe that was just your vanity talking. Regardless, you pull Echo in for a short kiss while slowly starting to move with Fives inside you.

The sound of the glass bottle opening behind you gives you goosebumps. Rex's silence feels like the calm before the storm, and you hold your breath in anticipation. The liquid is a little cold when it trickles onto your skin, and you notice Rex also put a generous amount on his hand as he spreads it out, circling your little hole with his thumb. He works one finger into you gently, but you can feel the stretch and you cling onto Fives' shoulders.

"You alright, sunshine?" he asks and you nod, soothed by his voice and the circles Echo is rubbing on your back. Rex works you open gradually with his fingers, adding more oil when needed while Fives whispers words of encouragement into your ear. He keeps his hips painfully still -- your cunt throbs around him and you know he can feel it, too, but he doesn't budge, not yet.

“You’re doing so well, sunshine. Do you think you’re ready?”

“Mmhm,” you murmur against the skin of his shoulder.

“Ask Captain Rex nicely, then.”

You tilt your head up to look at him in slight bewilderment, only to find a playful smirk on his face. Before you can think of what to say, Rex starts slowly pulling his fingers out, grazing them along the sensitive skin in and around your ass, and you whine as you bury your face in Rex’s neck again.

“P-please, captain,” you cry, “please, please.”

His hands firmly dig into your asscheeks, rough and purposeful.

“Please what?”

Your words come out stifled and choked, both held back by your embarrassment to say something so filthy out loud, and shaken up by desire.

“Please fuck my a-ass, I need your cock, Rex, please!”

“Well done, sweetheart,” he says in that low voice that makes you quiver. He lines his cock up with your ass and you can’t help but buck your hips back slightly. His hands take hold of your sides and he starts pushing himself in, splitting you open easily with the help of the oil.

You’re full, so very full, and it’s so much, on the edge of being painful but not quite. Every part of your skin that touches one of your lovers is on fire, burning with arousal like it did when you had those toxins in your body, but better, now that your mind is sound. Whenever you think he can’t go any deeper, he does, and all you can do is hold onto Fives, digging your nails into his skin in the process.

“Fuck, stars, you take me so well,” Rex says behind you.

Echo pets your hair softly. “How’s it feel, baby?”

“F-feels good,” you respond, your words slurring together. Now both Fives and Rex are holding still with you in between them. The waiting is unbearable, like when the ocean pulls back before its biggest waves, and you are waiting for the water to crash.

The smallest roll of your hips is all it takes -- Rex groans as he pulls out about halfway, then thrusts back into you. From below you, Fives starts tilting his hips upwards, and you feel your cunt getting wetter around his cock. With the way you’re lying forwards on his chest, your clit rubs against him every time Rex slams his hips forwards. They move faster and faster, their skin slapping against yours and all you can do is sob, warm tears of pleasure mixing with sweat as they roll down your cheeks.

You can take more. You want to take more, and you look up at Echo through your wet lashes, reaching out for him, trying to find your words.

“Echo,” you whine softly, “my mouth, you can-”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He shifts so his cock is directly in front of your face instantly, unbearably hard and leaking. Your mouth opens almost instinctively, tongue lolling out to taste as much of him as possible.

Rex chuckles behind you as each thrust of his hips forces Echo’s cock further down your throat as you moan around him.

“Seems I was right the first time,” he says, not halting his speed even a little bit, “you really are a good little whore, aren’t you?”

Fuck, why do those words turn you on so much? Being called names was never something you wanted, but the way he said it, in that fucking delicious voice of his, it set you on fire and makes your cunt clench eagerly.

“Kriff, you liked that, didn’t you? Got all tight around me.”

Your mouth is too full of Echo’s cock to answer, but your throat lets out a noise that Echo clearly likes, because he moans and his strong hand finds purchase on your scalp. They fuck you mercilessly, all three of them pounding and thrusting into your body while you bounce on Fives’ cock and grind your clit against him. There is a deep focus to it, this steady rhythm while holding Echo’s cock into your mouth, but it feels so good and so complete, all of you moving together, thinking of nothing else but chasing the pleasure building in your cunt, and once you start slamming your hips down at the same moment Fives thrusts his up, it’s like the ocean wave crashing into the shore with full force, dragging you along with it. You come hard, a white-hot orgasm that shakes you to your core. You let Echo’s cock slip out of your mouth the moment you scream, and Five holds you against his chest where you can hear the pounding of his heart.

Fives halts the relentless thrusting of his hips for a moment, but not Rex -- he gives you not a moment of rest as he uses your ass with the same ferocity he used your cunt back on that planet.

“Fuck, fuck,” he swears behind you, “I’m gonna fucking- gonna cum, gonna fill this t-tight little ass up, would you like that? You wanna take my cum like a g-good little whore?”

“Yes, please, Rex,” you sob in reply.

He buries his cock deep inside your ass, his grip on your hips so tight it hurts, and then suddenly you feel a hand in your hair at the back of your head. Rex grabs a handful of hair and pulls, lifting your head up and back. He keeps you there while he coats your insides with his release, swearing throughout it, before letting you fall back onto Fives’ chest.

Echo stands up from the bed the second Rex pulls out of you and switches places with him.

“You can take a little more, can’t you, baby?” Echo says, lining his cock up with your ass. Some incoherent noise comes out of you as an answer, and Echo pushes in. Rex has opened you up enough for him to enter you easily, but knowing he’s fucking Rex’s cum back inside of you fans the flames in your belly and you can’t help but start bucking your hips back to feel it more, while Fives’ cock is still hot and throbbing in your cunt.

“Look at you,” you hear Rex say, “you can’t get enough of it, can you? Fucking yourself on two cocks at the same time, and looking so pretty doing it.”

“Mmm,” Fives agrees, and you can hear he’s trying to keep his composure but his breathing is ragged as he comes closer to his own release, “such a pretty little cockslut.”

The way they talk to you spurs you on, which they probably intended, and you start riding Fives like your life depends on it, pushing your upper body up a little straighter so you can look at him. He’s beautiful like this, face flushed, beads of sweat between his knitted brows while he intensely chases his pleasure. As soon as you look him in the eye he grabs the back of your head to pull you down, your forehead to his forehead, your nose to his nose, his eyes closed.

“You’re so f-fucking perfect,” he mutters, then lets out a long groan while he spills inside you, his head crashing backwards into the pillow. Echo’s thrusts get shorter and faster now and you buck back against him, wanting to give everything you still have left inside you. Rex’s hand sneaks up between your body and Fives’ to find your clit.

“Cum one more time, sweetheart, I know you can, with two cocks inside you.”

It’s too much -- you want to, but you don’t know if you can, don’t you if you’re even capable.

“I-I can’t, I-” you try to plead, but he rubs your clit roughly and you sob, hot tears wetting your cheeks. Echo tenses up behind you and you know he’s going to finish soon but-

Slap.

Rex’s hand comes down and strikes your asscheek so hard you squeal.

“I said cum.”

You do. You can’t explain it, but you do, an almost painful orgasm coursing through you while the sting of the strike lingers. A curse leaves your mouth but is caught by Fives’ lips pressing to yours and his tongue in your mouth. Echo spills his release into your ass with a moan, and with all three of their loads inside you, you have never felt so full.

After Echo pulls out, you climb off of Fives and let yourself fall backwards onto the mattress, every inch of you covered in sweat. Rex leans over to move some hair out of your face.

“Was that too much?” he asks, and the gentleness in his voice is almost heartbreaking.

“No,” you answer, a blissful smile on your face from how unbelievably good you’ve been fucked, “that was just right.” He leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, and you feel an ever so slight trace of stubble on his jaw, less than a day’s growth. You’ve never thought about him shaving, but you’d like to watch him do it, some day. Fives sits up, grabs your hand and puts it to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to your knuckles. Moments later, Echo appears with a towel from your closet and starts cleaning you up, dabbing the cloth between your thighs where their cum has started trickling out of you.

“So,” you start, grinning playfully “are we even, now?”

Rex chuckles and gets up off the bed to find his underclothes -- no doubt duty will call for him again soon. You feel so, so lucky, that these three men have chosen to spend what little free time they have with you, and a warmth spreads through your chest as you look at them, eyes half-lidded from drowsiness.

“Not a chance,” he jokes, stepping into his briefs.

Fives lets go of your hand and strokes your cheek with his thumb, grinning down at you, and Echo, too, has a smile on his face. Rex kisses your forehead one more time.

“You won’t get rid of us that easily.”

[dickwheelie]

3, jm? :o

#3 - writing a love letter but keeping it to themselves

cheesed the prompt a little bit but it still kinda works!

_____________

The train rattled and Jon's pen slid across the notebook page, slicing his last sentence in two. Growling in frustration, he carefully drew two straight, deliberate lines through the words, and wrote them again. As a rule he liked to keep his writing neat and even, and this letter in particular he wanted to look nice, despite the inconvenient spot he was in.

He hadn't had much of a choice. The idea to write the letter had come to him while they were all standing on the platform back in London, and he knew there'd be no time once they arrived at Great Yarmouth. Besides, though the train was loud and shaky it was a night train, and the others were fast asleep in their seats, giving Jon the privacy he needed to really think about what he wanted to say to Martin.

Because, of course, the letter was for Martin. He was trying to use it to say everything he hadn't known how to say these past few months, things that Martin deserved to hear. Things he'd intended on telling Martin once they got back--because they would be getting back, Jon wouldn't entertain the alternative--but his mind had kept turning the words over and over in his head, not letting him alone, and so he'd put pen to paper at the first opportunity. He wanted to make the words tangible, real things, that he could show to Martin and make him understand.

As he finished up the last sentence, Jon turned back to the previous page in his notebook and read the letter through.

Martin--

I'm sure I gave you this to read and then walked away, probably said I was going to wait in my office or something. As I write this I'm promising myself I'm going to do that. But knowing me, I'm probably waiting right outside the door to hear your reaction. So feel free to stay as quiet as possible to give future me a hard time. He probably deserves it.

I know this isn't the normal way of going about this sort of thing, but . . . well, why start now? Our track record with normal hasn't exactly been consistent.

I suppose this letter is a confession, of sorts. Though it hardly feels like one; I feel like most of these things I'm about to write are things you already know. But I'm not sure, and that's the point of it, because these are things you should know. They're things I probably should have told you already, to be completely honest.

First thing is that I never properly thanked you for helping me after I got back from my little month-long "vacation." To be honest a lot of that time is a blur, but I do remember you offering me a place to stay, and helping me stock back up on groceries, and just being there. You didn't need to do any of that, so, thank you.

And thank you for believing me. About Leitner, about Nikola, about all of it. I know it's a bit very hypocritical of me to say that I was afraid you wouldn't believe me, but you did. You always have. Except when what I'm saying is bullshit, which, thank you for calling me out on that, too.

Second thing is that I'm sorry. For . . . everything, pretty much. For treating you the way I did, for not trusting you, for just generally being an arse and a stubborn idiot. For getting you involved in this mess--Prentiss, the Unknowing, all of it. I know an apology doesn't fix anything, but you deserve at least that much.

I won't apologize for not bringing you with us, though. It's not safe, where we're going. I suppose it's not safe where you are, either, but it's safer, at least. If Elias wanted to kill any of us he'd have done it by now. Which, now that I'm reading that back, I'm realizing it's not actually very comforting.

It doesn't matter anyway. If you're reading this, it means you're okay, that I'm okay. That we saved the world.

As I write this I really, really hope that that's how it works out. Because I need you to be okay, Martin. I need you to be okay and I need to be back with you. I care about you, a lot, and I need you to know that.

While I was in America I was miserable. Nothing was familiar and I constantly felt like I was being followed and I had nothing to do all day but chase imaginary leads that ultimately led me right back to my own front door. But I always looked forward to your calls. Talking to you was always the best part of my day. I kept counting out the time difference trying to anticipate when you'd be awake. I planned my days around those calls. And at first I thought it was just that you were a familiar voice, a port in a storm, that it could have been anyone. But then I realized no, it was just you, I liked talking to you and I wanted to talk to you more, and I missed you when we had to hang up. Hearing your voice made me smile, every time. I kept thinking about your tea.

That was when I knew.

And when I came back, you were there. You were happy to see me. At least I think you were--I don't want to assume. But I know I was so, so happy to see you, Martin. I should have told you then, but I was scared. I didn't want to come on too strong. I didn't want to ruin any of it.

But, well, now the world is ending, or it didn't end, and I want you to know how I feel. So the third thing is that I'd like to have dinner with you sometime. And when I say that I mean somewhere nice with a wine selection, not in document storage with day-old tuna sandwiches. Though that evening wasn't half-bad, either. I'd like to go out with you, on a date, and yes, this is how I'm asking you. Remember what I said about normal.

You're wonderful, Martin, and just because it took me too long to realize that doesn't make it any less true. You're clever, and kind, and strong--I'm envious of how strong you are. I like your smile, and your jumpers, and your tea. I really like your tea. I'm withholding all opinions regarding poetry as I am not an authority on the subject. But the point is I like you, Martin, a lot. You matter very, very much to me.

I just don't want to wait any longer. I'm tired of being careful, I'm tired of biting my tongue, I'm tired of not being with you. I'm tired of everything, really, but I'm especially tired of that.

You don't have to answer right away, of course. Please, I don't want to pressure you, you can tell me no or yes or nothing at all, I won't ask. Although if I am waiting just outside the door right now, I'm probably going to give you a very persistent look when you leave, so don't say I didn't warn you.

Fondly yours,

Jon

Jon read through the letter three more times. He still wasn't entirely happy with it, but it was late, and despite the adrenaline that had gotten him through the day his eyelids were drooping now. Before he could fall asleep on his notebook, he wrote out one last line:

P.S.: Apologies for how messy this is--I wrote it on the train. Couldn't wait to get it all down.

Carefully, following the perforated lines, he tore out the pages, folded them neatly into thirds, and slipped them into his coat pocket. He'd give them to Martin as soon as he got back, he decided as he leaned back in his seat. Lulled by the steady rocking of the train, Jon thought of what Martin's excited yes might sound like, what it would feel like to hold his hand over a candlelit table, and perhaps even what it might be like to press a kiss to his cheek, and though he knew he would wake with the train arriving at its inevitable destination, these thoughts carried him off to sleep with more comfort than he'd felt in a long time.

[spencestyles]

Her

summary: the one where y/n is tired of being second to Maeve and Spencer needs to learn his lesson

pairing: spencer reid x BAU!femreader

warnings: angst

words: 3050

*not my gif*

~~~~~~~~~~~

To you, it had always been about her. What she did, how she looked, was all based on her. You wanted to make Spencer happy, but you could never compare to her.

"Spencer, I don't understand what I need to do," you yelled in frustration.

"There is nothing you can do y/n," Spencer yelled back. Your relationship had been going on like this for a few weeks. you knew about his past and knew about Maeve. Yes, Maeve, the girl Spencer will forever love. Within the past weeks, Spencer has become more distant from you. The five year anniversary of Maeve's death is right around the corner. Whenever this time of the year comes around, Spencer becomes heavily depressed. Every time, you just shrug it off.

"Spence, I want to help you," you said softly, exhausted from all the arguing. "Can I please help you." You worked at the BAU she joined shortly after Maeve's death. You immediately hit it off with the entire team besides Spencer. He was still different, as the rest of the team had told you.

"You can't help y/n," Spencer cried. "I just want Maeve back." Your heart dropped at the sentence. you had always felt second to Maeve, no matter how many times Spencer or the rest of the team denied it.

"I can't do that Spencer," you said calmly, trying not to anger Spencer.

"Then maybe you can start acting more like her," Spencer said angrily. "Maybe pick up a damn book instead of watching fucking Grey's Anatomy. Or maybe do something good with your life besides being pretty. I miss Maeve so much."

At this point, you were enraged, "Spencer, I am not going to change who I am because you want a dead person back. Do you understand how difficult it is for me to live through this every year? Every year you forget I'm your girlfriend and I'm alive."

"Shut up y/n. I will never love you as much as I love Maeve. You are just a filler in my life right now," Spencer screamed. You immediately began to grab her things to take to her best friend, Penelope's, house. Spencer realized what he had done and began to protest your departure from your apartment.

"y/n I didn't mean it," Spencer cried, but you were already out the door. You quickly made you way to the street when you realized you left your car keys in the apartment. You decided to walk to Penelope's as it wasn't far and you didn't want to walk back to the apartment where Spencer would be begging for his forgiveness.

As you walked to Penelope's apartment as quickly as you could, you began to feel a presence from behind. You began to walk at a faster pace, but the figure behind you was faster. Suddenly, you felt a pain in her head.

Then all you saw was darkness.

Spencer knew you would be spending the night over at Penelope's, so he didn't worry too much when you didn't come back to your shared apartment. He also knew Penelope was not going to want to talk to him, especially after what he had said. However, the next morning when he woke up, he felt uneasy. When he tried to call you, you didn't answer (not like you were going to). Spencer expected you to not answer after your encounter last night, but when you are angry you don't let the rings drag on like they had; you just cancel the call.

Spencer immediately called Penelope, "Hey Garcia is y/n with you?" Spencer heard shuffling.

"No, why?" Penelope asked. Spencer became frantic as he realized his beloved girlfriend was missing.

"Garcia we need to call 911 to the team, y/n is missing," Spencer said as he packed his bag to work and immediately ran to the car.

Once the whole team made it to the office, Spencer was worried what he would have to say to the team. He knew they would be pissed at him for what he said to you, they all knew it was a touchy subject to you. You had cried to the girls (as well as Hotch) about this issue many, many times. But they all also knew Spencer loved you, more than he loved Maeve.

"Spencer you called 911, whats up?" JJ asked.

"y/n and I got into a fight last night and she left and I thought she was going to Penelope's but she never made it to Penelope's and she isn't answering her phone," Spencer said in a rushed sentence. "It may not seem like a lot yet, but something is wrong. I can feel it."

"Now what did you two fight about?" Hotch asked sternly. You and Hotch had always been close. You had a close father daughter bond since your father died when you were a teenager.

"Please don't get mad at me. I know I screwed up," Spencer began. "But I said some really stupid things. I was in a funk last night because of the anniversary of Maeve's death and I said some stupid things. She was just trying to help me get better and I basically told her to her face she wasn't good enough. I told her I would never love her as much as I love Maeve."

At this point, Spencer had begun crying. However, the rest of the team had a mixture of shocked, disappointed, and pissed off looks on their faces. You were the baby of the team still, she was young and bubbly and she loved Spencer. Maeve was a tough situation for y/n and it eventually began to take a toll on the whole team. You would get insecure at the smallest things and had a hard time with stalker cases because of the connection to Maeve.

"Okay, this is now a running investigation," Hotch said. "We all know y/n would have texted one of us to tell us she was safe if she was okay. Spencer, my office now." Hotch was pissed. You, who was basically his daughter at that point, was missing and it was all because of Spencer. Spencer knew he fucked up, but Hotch needed to make sure Spencer knew if you were found dead, there was no way out for him.

"Spencer, I am not mad at you yet," Hotch stated calmly. "But let me tell you know and let me tell you clearly, if y/n dies because you decided to be a dick, you will not feel the end of it. We both know what it feels like to lose someone so close to you. I lost Hayley, you lost Maeve. And since then, y/n has been the best thing that has happened to both of us. So Spencer Reid, so help me god, if y/n is dead, your job will be a living hell. Leave my office now and put yourself to good use." Spencer gulped. He knew Hotch would be pissed, but didn't realize how pissed.

Everyone in the bull pin knew what had happened in Hotch's office. None of them felt bad. They knew Spencer couldn't continue to undermine the importance of you to Maeve, a dead girl. They knew how you felt, especially the girls. The countless nights you had cried to them about how you felt you would never be good enough for Spencer. They knew Spencer's constant mention of Maeve hurt you.

As Spencer walked into the bull pin, he noticed the stares. He knew they were disappointed, especially the girls. He knew Morgan would be disappointed because he was the only one who knew how much Spencer truly loved you. While you were crying to the girls, Spencer was over at Derek's trying to find ways to make it up to you, to find ways to prove to you that you were his one and only. Maeve was in the past, but sometimes her memory began to creep up in Spencer.

"Can everyone stop looking at me like a criminal," Spencer said to the team looking down. "I know what I said and I know you all are upset, but we need to find her please. I can't stand to know she may be dead and died thinking that I didn't love her. Because I do. More than I ever loved Maeve and I messed up. I need to save her." The team looked at Spencer with sorrow in their eyes. They knew he was right. They needed to stop holding a grudge and get to work. None of them could live knowing they didn't do everything they could to save you.

"Spencer is right, Garcia start looking at security cameras from the area we found y/n's phone," Hotch began ordering. "Reid I need you to make a list of everyone who you and y/n have been in contact with for the past few months. Everyone else, we need to start looking for similar cases and try to figure out a profile."

The whole team got to work. Spencer looked through his phone as well as his and y/n's emails. While looking through your emails he found a strange set of emails from an unknown email address. This was strange to Spencer, he knew you never kept anything from the team especially if it were to be suspicious.

"Garcia, I need you to trace these emails," Spencer said, walking quickly to Garcia's office.

"Reid did you find something?" Hotch asked.

"I'm not sure," Spencer replied. "But it's strange for y/n to have these emails in a separate file. It's like she didn't want us to find them."

"Or she wanted us to find them in a situation like this," Hotch said. "Garcia look into these emails now, we may have our unsub."

------

You laid on a musty mattress that smelled of human feces and blood. You couldn't remember anything. You knew what had happened to you, Spencer told you he didn't love you as much as Maeve and you walked to Penelope's house. By the looks of it, you never made it to Penelope's. Soon enough the figure you felt behind you on your walk was in front of you.

"Well if it isn't y/n y/l/n," the person said. "My name is Cat. Cat Adams. You are here because you are keeping me from Spencer. I knew that if I kidnapped you, Spencer would come looking and I'd get to see his beautiful face again."

"I know who you are, Cat," you said aggressively. "I helped put your ass in jail, but from the looks of it you escaped."

"That I did," Cat laughed. "Its easy when you're fucking the guards." You felt a gross feeling in your stomach. You knew what was going to happen to you, but you also knew if she died, she wouldn't die until she could see Spencer one last time.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp pain at the left side of your waist. You looked at Cat and who was looking at her straight in the eyes. Cat had won.

------

However, back at the BAU, Spencer knew something in the emails sounded familiar.

I love him more than you do.

He will be mine forever.

There was only one woman in your relationship together that would be this judgemental, Cat Adams. Spencer knew she too made your life miserable. The thought of Cat to you was almost as gut wrenching as the thought of Maeve. You knew Cat and Spencer had a strange connection, it would often worry you; especially when Cat would request to meet with Spencer.

"Its Cat," Spencer yelled. "Hotch its Cat Adams." Everyone looked at Spencer shocked. The team was never told of Cat escaping prison.

"I need to call the prison," Hotch said. "Garcia, start looking at Cat Adams whereabouts, aliases, or anything. I have a feeling Spencer is right." Garcia immediately started looking as Hotch called the prison.

"Spencer is right," Hotch said. "Cat escaped less than a week ago."

"I found it," Garcia screamed. "Cat is at a warehouse less than three miles from here. Go quickly and save my best friend." The team ran out of the building and sprinted to their cars. Spencer was nervous. He had a feeling in the back of his head that his girlfriend was dead.

Immediately after getting into the car, the team receives a call from Garcia, "Cat has a partner. His name is Jackson Donovan. He has a criminal record and its not good. Spencer I should also mention he is Maeve's brother. You know, your dead girlfriend." Spencer was shocked. He never knew Maeve had a brother, but he knew that you may not get out of this alive. And it would be his fault. The team arrived at the warehouse.

"Spencer you're not allowed in," Hotch said. "You are too close to y/n."

"Hotch that's so not fai-" Spencer began.

"Reid I'm not going in either." Spencer didn't listen and ran into the building with Hotch yelling behind him. Hotch decided it was no use and ran in also, he needed to see you alive one more time.

"Cat Adams and Jackson Donovan, FBI put your hands up," Morgan yelled. The sight they ran into was gruesome. You had been badly beaten. Suddenly, Spencer walked in with tears in his eyes. The love of his life was dying, you looked sick. You hadn't eaten in over a day, since you and Spencer had planned on going out for a nice dinner the night of your fight.

"Well if it isn't Spencer Reid," Jackson said. "The guy my sister couldn't stop talking about. I know how you must feel, the love of your life is gone and you need a good fuck. So you decide to go for the second best thing. She's a good shag, I'm not sure if you've been fucking her right though, shes pretty tight."

"Stop, please," you pleaded. For the first time, the team saw you true pain. You were broken. Not only had your boyfriend say he didn't love you, you had been mentally and emotionally abused by these two people who wanted to ruin Spencer.

"Shut up three," Cat laughed. "Spencer, do you like the name? Three. Do you know what it means?" Spencer shook his head. "It means that y/n is your third choice. You lost Maeve, you can't have me -well you could-, so you're stuck with her. She's nothing, she's the third choice. That's why she acts so strange. Did you know that at the beginning of your relationship she stopped eating to be skinnier for you. She always felt second to Maeve and me."

"Shut up Cat, please," you said hoarsely.

"Three, do I have to tell you again," Cat said. At this point the team was beyond confused, they needed either of them to do something in order for them to stop.

"Cat, come on let's talk about this," JJ said.

"I'll only talk to Spencer," Cat said with a smirk on her face. Suddenly, the team saw Jackson make a lunge with a knife towards you, angry that Cat only wanted Spencer. Morgan took the shot swiftly as Reid handcuffed Cat.

Hotch ran over to you, "y/n, sweetie, are you okay? What do you need." You began to close your eyes. "Hey, hey, hey, don't close your eyes. You're going to be fine. MEDIC! We need a medic now!" The team felt tears in their eyes as they saw the paramedics rush to tend to you.

"Hotch can I go wit-" Spencer started.

"Go Spencer, apologize." Spencer ran to the ambulance.

"She is my girlfriend, please let me stay," Spencer begged, the medics let him stay. Spencer grabbed your hand and looked at your half closed eyes. "y/n if you can hear me, I didn't mean anything I said. I love you more than anything. I love the way you can watch a show and tell me all about it even though I watched with you. I love that you can put up with me when I'm in my episodes and the fact you don't care that I may be a paranoid schizophrenic. I love that you listen to my rambles even if you have heard them before."

"Sir, sorry to interrupt, but is there any chance your girlfriend may be pregnant," Spencer thought for a minute.

Spencer's eyes shot down at you as he heard a loud breath, "S-S-Spencer, save the baby," you said between breaths. Spencer looked at you shocked. His girlfriend was pregnant and he didn't notice. He began to think back to before your argument and the things you said. "Spencer I have a surprise for you, I think you're going to like it." Spencer's heart dropped as he heard the heart monitor flatline.

"We need her in OR 3 now," one of the doctors said. "Sir, you need to go to the waiting room, someone will be out to give you an update soon." Spencer was stunned, his girlfriend and child may die and he would have to live with the guilt of not being good enough.

Spencer walked into the waiting room and saw the rest of the team, "Jackson and Cat are being held, any updates on y/n?" Hotch asked.

"They had to take her to surgery, she flatlined in the ambulance," Spencer said, his voice breaking. "She's pregnant." The team sat quiet.

"We all already knew Spencer," Rossi said. "Earlier in the day before you guys got into your fight, she told us. She was so excited and she wanted to tell you in the most perfect way."

"I told her to just come out and say it like Hayley did to me," Hotch laughed. "It caught me by surprise but was the most meaningful statement I'd ever heard." The team smiled at Hotch, but looked at Spencer who looked the worst he ever has. None of the team had seen him look this bad. Not even with Maeve. Soon enough, most of the team left. Hotch had to go to Jack and JJ to her kids. Derek had a date with his girlfriend and the rest of them needed their sleep.

"Spencer," Emily said. "Please text us when she wakes up." Spencer nodded, which was enough for both of them this late into the night.

Less than ten minutes later y/n's doctors came into the waiting room, "Here for y/n y/l/n?" Spencer stood up.

"Hi," Spencer said, walking over to them. "I'm her boyfriend."

"Well she is doing well right now, we were worried at first. She flatlined twice on the operation board." Spencer let out a breath he did not know he was holding.

"She was pregnant, what about the baby?" Spencer asked, hoping that y/n was still carrying their unborn child.

"The baby is being monitored, but it looks as if the baby is almost four months along meaning there is a low chance of the baby getting hurt. However, the baby was under a lot of stress from the abduction." The doctor began to show Spencer to your room. Spencer couldn't help but wonder if he caused any of the stress on the baby. The things he said most definitely caused you an enormous amount of stress.

As Spencer walked into the room, he couldn't help but shed a tear. You had wires around your body and you looked bad. Not bad, but like you were just kidnapped.

Spencer texted the team, y/n is out of surgery. She and the baby are okay. The team didn't respond as it was three in the morning.

Spencer heard shuffling next to him. He looked over at you and saw you move slightly, your hand moving to her stomach. For the first time, he looked over at your stomach and noticed you bump. He was shocked he hadn't seen it before, it was very prominent. Well it was what he'd expect for four months.

"y/n I know you most likely can't hear me or you don't want to listen, but I need you to know I love you" Spencer began. "You are the best thing that has happened to me, I know you always feel second to Maeve, but she is a part of my past. You y/n, you are my present and my future. I confided in you when I was at my lowest, when I was in jail you were there. You and our baby. Holy shit we are going to have a kid." Spencer paused when he heard a giggle. He looked over to y/n, she had a smile on her face.

"Hi" y/n said.

"Oh my God you're awake" Spencer said with tears in his eyes. "I thought I lost you."

"You're never getting rid of me" y/n giggled. "Actually, maybe if you act like that again. I will leave you and take your child." You glared at Spencer, remembering why you were in this situation.

"I'm sorry about what I said to you," Spencer cried. "I love you, I love you so much. I'm going to do everything for this baby and everything to make this up to you."

"You better."

[peachy-panic]

WHUMPTOBER DAY 3: “WHO DID THIS TO YOU?”

This is the next chronological piece of Do No Harm, continued directly from this chapter.

Tag list: @whumpervescence  @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump

WARNINGS: Medical procedures, referenced/implied noncon, slavery setting, the usual.

The young doctor seems a bit skittish and far less cruel than the other Facility employees, and that comes with the dangerous notion that perhaps he doesn’t plan on hurting him. But that notion requires a naivety of which Jaime is no longer capable. He, of all people, is aware that cruelty can disguise itself in many shapes and sizes. Just because it isn’t obvious doesn’t mean it isn’t there, and that only makes it all the more dangerous.

There’s no use in hoping either way, he decides. Dr. Tate will either hurt him or he won’t, will either touch him or he won’t, and Jaime can’t — won’t — react. He has already made that mistake once today and will certainly pay for it later in ways he doesn’t want to think about now. He would do well to remember that he doesn’t hold any power here. Not in this room, this building, this life. And that, despite any arbitrary written rules, Dr. Tate is free to do as he pleases. 

At least he had removed the restraints from his mouth and wrists. Jaime can console himself with this small mercy. 

Those had always been the worst part of nights with Mr. Torley, on the all-too-frequent occasions he decided to use them. He was clearly very into them, and even more into Jaime’s fear of them. In addition to the claustrophobia they stoked in him, the use of restraints in bed had always felt something like a mockery. What use was it to restrain someone who can’t fight back regardless? The binds on his wrists and ankles were nothing more than accessories. The shackles in his mind did all the work to keep him still. And Mr. Torley knew that.

He does his best not to think about that now. Not to think about Mr. Torley at all, since that was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. Distantly, he wonders how long the influence of his first Keeper will continue to stain Jaime’s existence beyond the termination of their six-month contract.

Dr. Tate, who has been buried in the cabinets above the sink for several minutes, turns back to him sporting bright-blue gloves that adhere tightly around his slender hands. He meets Jaime’s eyes for half a second before his gaze darts somewhere just to the left of his shoulder. 

“We need to run a couple of tests,” he says in a detached, clinical voice, all notes of lightheartedness from earlier removed. “I’ll need to collect some samples from you.”

Jaime nods once in acknowledgement, squeezing his fingers tightly, unconsciously around the edge of the table. There’s an unnatural pause in his cadence, and Jaime when looks up, he watches a slight twitch of movement in the doctor’s jaw. 

“Please remove your pants and underwear,” Dr. Tate says, his voice taking on a lower pitch. “You can leave them on up to your thighs, if you’d like.”

The slight shift in demeanor sets Jaime on edge, but he doesn’t hesitate at the command, even as a familiar panic claws at the inside of his throat. He drops forward from the table, his legs taking his weight. His thumbs hook the waistband of the thin, cotton pants he had been returned in, and he doesn’t allow himself a moment of hesitation before pushing them unceremoniously off his hips. He takes Dr. Tate up on his merciful offer to keep them partially on his body. The cold, sterile air inside the clinic is sharp against his exposed skin.

Jaime’s eyes find the ceiling as he prepares for the touch he knows is coming. He doesn’t look to see whatever tools and instruments Dr. Tate is laying out on the silver tray beside the exam table. He doesn’t have to. “We need to run a couple of tests.”  Whatever foolish hypotheticals Jaime once held in regards to WRU — what they did and didn’t know about the treatment of their wards — had long been shattered. 

Of course they needed to test him for sexually transmitted diseases. They can’t have a Domestic Companion spreading something to the next paying customer that buys their time and exposing their innocent charade. 

There’s a pause in Dr. Tate’s movement, but Jaime doesn’t look away from his spot on the ceiling tile.

“I’m going to touch you, now.” Dr. Tate’s voice is low and measured. “I need to examine you for bumps or sores, any abnormalities.” He clears his throat. “And I’ll take a swab from your urethra. It might be uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt you.” Another pause. “Please, tell me if it does.”

Jaime’s grip on the table tightens, but he otherwise doesn’t react. Distantly, he is grateful for the warning, the bare explanation, mortifying as it is. He knows that the doctors here are not obligated to explain anything to the Companion patients, to seek consent in any form. Their consent was implicitly given in the contracts they signed at intake. He just as easily could have left Jaime gagged and bound to the table and gone about the procedure without so much as a word to him. Jaime is glad he hadn’t. 

Instead, Dr. Tate’s touch is light and professional. His gloved hands don’t linger, they don’t poke and prod to get a reaction from him. It seems, even, that he touches him as little as possible. Almost as if he is as eager to get this over with as Jaime is, which doesn’t feel quite possible. 

The fluorescent strip of light next to his focal point on the ceiling burns at the edge of his vision, but he doesn’t look away, using the mild discomfort as an anchor to hold himself steady. He concentrates on that instead of the gentle touches, gritting his teeth against any traitorous urges his body might provoke. Mr. Torley had loved that about Jaime — his responsiveness to touch — but not as much as he loved using it against him. 

His stomach sours at the memory, fresh humiliation creeping into his cheeks at the idea of something similar happening now. He doesn’t think Dr. Tate would tease him the way his Keeper had, but he still doesn’t relish the idea of becoming physically aroused in front of this young doctor, who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than him and, in another life, Jaime might have found pretty. 

The thought is gone almost as soon as it comes, too painful to linger on. The idea of another life. A normal life. A life at all. These are thoughts Jaime is forbidden to have. The phantom sting of an electric shock lights up the column of his throat and Jaime winces.

“Sorry,” Dr. Tate said quickly, misunderstanding the movement and withdrawing his hand. Jaime’s eyes finally fall to his as the doctor takes a step back, inserting the long swab into a glass tube and sealing it with a cap. “The worst part is over.”

Jaime is numb all over, but he nearly laughs. He knows that having stepped foot in this facility again, the “worst part” has not even begun. 

“I’ll need to collect another sample from your mouth,” Dr. Tate continues, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves, and Jaime absently wonders why they even bother wasting extra product on the patients here. “And we’ll draw some blood—” 

Something catches his voice mid-sentence and Jaime’s eyes flick up to his again. Dr. Tate looks at him, and then pointedly, hurriedly away. Jaime swears he can see his pale cheeks reddening.

“You can— We’re finished with that part.” He stumbles out. “Feel free to cover yourself up.”

Jaime does as he’s told, finding it somewhere within himself to be grateful that the doctor had kept the procedure professional. He couldn’t say the same thing for every encounter he’d had in the facility clinic before. 

********

Sebastian knows what happens next, and that’s why he finds himself taking his time with the rest of the visit. As soon as he’s completed the mandated intake exam, he is supposed to mark the patient as cleared in his chart and alert the handlers to come collect him. To take him back into the part of the facility where Sebastian has never set foot; the “residential” wing where the unclaimed Companions are housed between contracts. On all the promotional advertisements, it’s depicted as a dormitory-like accommodation. Now that Sebastian knows just how little truth exists behind their lies, he can only imagine it’s nothing of the sort. 

His mind conjures images of iron-barred cells and concrete rooms, of medieval dungeons with chains and darkness and filth. It’s a sensationalized version of what he assumes is probably the truth, but that doesn’t mean the reality is any less horrible. After what he’s seen in his time here and everything he’s heard, he has no doubt that the people who are forced to reside here between Keepers are subject to the company’s own brand of horror. Frankly, he’s in no hurry to turn his patient back over to their hands a moment sooner than he has to.

The boy is silent and entirely pliable throughout the whole exam, allowing himself to be moved when necessary and not so much as flinching when the needles for the blood draw break his skin. Sebastian is glad when the more… invasive parts of the exam are over. The boy had been no less compliant during them, maybe even the opposite, but Sebastian hadn’t missed the subtle changes in his posture, the way the muscles in his hands clenched and released around the edge of the table as he touched him as little as possible. 

He had looked up at the ceiling instead of at the wall behind Sebastian, as he had done previously, and Sebastian had silently prayed that the position wasn’t intended as a way to hold back tears. He doesn’t know how he could live with himself if he made this kid cry.

When the blood has been drawn, the test samples submitted for lab processing, and a full physical performed, Sebastian has run out of ways to delay the inevitable. He closes out of the boy’s patient profile on his screen and turns to him, hands folded professionally in front. 

“I’ll need to alert the handlers that your intake exam is complete,” he told him, probably unnecessarily. He hadn’t looked to see how long he had been in the system, but from his behavior, he assumes it’s been long enough to break his spirit. He probably knows these protocols better than Sebastian ever wants to. “They’ll come and escort you back to the residential quarters.”

110750 nods once without looking at him. “Thank you,” he says flatly. Then, there is a moment of pause before he lifts his eyes and seems to level Sebastian with something more sincere. “Thank you for… for letting me get cleaned up.”

Sebastian feels like shattering into pieces all over the cold linoleum. Instead, he tries for a smile and lands somewhere in the realm of a tight, thin line at his lips. “Sure,” he says, a bit mortified to hear the crack in his voice. 

He watches 110750 take slow, measured breaths as Sebastian makes the call he desperately wishes he didn’t have to make. He tries not to stare as they wait in tense silence for the handlers to arrive. Of course, Sebastian could leave the room if he wants. The intake procedure is done, and so is his minimal obligation to patient care. But something feels wrong about leaving him. More than that, something feels utterly wrong about this boy being taken out of the clinic, away from his line of sight, where he can’t see what will happen next. He only knows it won’t be good. 

A split second before he hears the clinic doors whoosh open, Sebastian steps closer to his patient, lowering his voice to a quick, urgent whisper. “Keep an eye on that broken nose,” he advises. “If you have any trouble breathing as it heals, please don’t hesitate to let your assigned handler know that you need medical attention, okay?”

The boy hitches in a breath but doesn’t respond. Sebastian takes half a step closer. 

“Look, you have a right to medical assistance,” he says, the words feeling like treason on his tongue despite knowing their written truth. “Even here. Even now. You can always come see me here if you need to. They can’t legally prevent you from requesting care. Do you understand?”

Unexpectedly, something dark flashes in the boy’s eyes. Something less like the fear and dread he had witnessed earlier, and something much more akin to anger. Anger at Sebastian?

Before the interaction can go any further, they are interrupted by the unceremonious swing of the exam room door. The same two men who had brought him in - one with a fresh bandage on his face - push their way in, stepping between Sebastian and his patient. 

“Up you go, 7-5-0,” Handler Hernandez barks, and the boy is on his feet before he can finish the command, his hands behind his back, head bowed. 

“Oh, look who finally decided to behave,” the other one - Smith, maybe? - taunts as he sizes him up in a way that makes even Sebastian’s skin crawl. Just as he had prior to the visit, the man shifts his gaze to him, a sneer permanently embedded into his expression. “Does he get a lollipop for good behavior? Maybe a sticker?”

The boy doesn’t look up at him, but Sebastian thinks he sees his throat move. He feels a swell of rage rise into his throat, coming to a boiling point for the second time since he entered the room with this boy, but he swallows it back, keeping as level an expression as he can manage. 

“He was perfectly agreeable,” he responds tightly, refusing to play into whatever mockery he’s initiating. 

Smith answers him with a dismissive snort, turning his attention back to the boy like a predator who just found fresh meat. “What do you say, sweetheart?” He asks, the thick rubber of his boots squeaking against the tile as he takes a step too far into the boy’s personal space. “Think we can go the easy way back, or would you prefer to do things the hard way again?”

The beat of silence in the room is painful as they await his response, which comes eventually in a subdued voice, through slightly gritted teeth and with his eyes on the floor. “The easy way. Sir.”

A snort from Hernandez breaks the tension. “Yeah,” he says. “We’ll see about that.”

With that, he is escorted from the room and seems to take with him all the air in Sebastian's lungs. Naively, desperately, he hopes for the briefest moment of eye contact before he’s taken away from him. But his eyes stay downward, even as a large hand curls around his bicep and makes him stumble in his gait as he’s yanked forward. Sebastian watches helplessly as he disappears from sight, one singular thought slicing through his mind on a loop:

Who did this to you?

[ginnympotter]

if you are still doing prompts can you do #50 with hinny pls! And if at all possible can u please do it with jily alive, imma sucker for those!:)

“Shh, stop fussing,” Harry said, trying to soothe her. “I’m just braiding your hair.”

“Don’t shush me,” she muttered, hugging the toilet. “When did you learn how to braid hair, anyway?”

“Mum taught me,” he told her, as he carefully wove her ginger locks together into a tight plait. “On Sirius.”

Despite her current disposition, Ginny let out a short chuckle. “What?”

“When I was seven, Sirius went through a long hair phase. He was trying to grow it longer than my mum’s,” he explained. “They can tell you about it at the table. You have a hair tie?”

Ginny stuck out a hand, and Harry gently pulled off the black tie from her wrist. He tied up the end of her plait and put his hands on her shoulders. “There. Now your hair won’t be in the way.”

She looked back at him, her face soft and pale. “Thank you.”

“You think you’ve finished?”

She nodded. “For now.”

Harry stood up, flushed the toilet one more time for good measure, and then offered his hand to Ginny and helped her up. “You think you’ll be able to get through the rest of lunch?”

“I’m hoping,” she said, attempting a smile. “You go back out there, I’m just gonna brush my teeth...again.”

He kissed her cheek and left the bathroom. When he returned to the dining room, James and Sirius were caught up in a heated debate about whether flying the motorbike or a broom was a more efficient way of travelling. Lily had a knowing look on her face as Harry sat back down, which made Harry want to avoid her eyes, afraid his own would confirm it.

She played along, anyway. “Is Ginny alright, love?”

“Yeah, she’s fine, she’ll be out in a moment,” he assured her, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

Sirius halted his argument with James to add, “I did think she seemed a bit off-color when we got here.”

Of course Sirius decided to become observant when they were trying to keep something private. He was glad to have an excuse to change the subject. “I was just telling her about your long hair phase when I was a kid, remember that?”

“My glory days, you mean?” Sirius reminisced wistfully. He looked at James and Lily. “You think I should grow it out again?”

“No,” said James at the same time as Lily said “yes.”

“What Evans says goes,” Sirius smiled.

Just then, Ginny emerged from the bathroom and joined them at the table. She sat down and muttered, “Sorry about that.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” James waved off, pouring her a glass of water. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Yes, thank you.” She squeezed Harry’s thigh with one hand and took the water in the other. Harry took that as his cue to take lead of the conversation.

“Ginny wanted to hear about how I learned to braid hair,” Harry told them.

Sirius and Lily laughed as James dug into more food. “I had just cut my hair,” started Lily. “Shoulder-length. And Sirius’s hair was getting pretty long, he was about to cut it himself when we realized it was about the same length.”

“So we had a contest,” Sirius said. “Who could grow out their hair longer, faster.”

“It was a pretty close call,” James joined in.

“But eventually I got tired of only donning a man-bun. It was time to change up my style. So I asked my dear sister here to teach me how to braid my hair. Even though I could’ve just used my wand, now that I’m thinking about it.”

“So Sirius practiced on me,” Lily recalled. “And Harry watched, and then we got him to braid Sirius’s hair for him. I said, ‘my love, one day this is going to be a skill that will come in handy in one way or another,’ and any time spent with Sirius was time well spent for Harry.”

“Still feel that way, kid?” Sirius asked Harry, grinning.

Harry shrugged playfully and Ginny laughed, bringing some color back into her face. “Depends on the day.”

“I get it, you’re married now,” Sirius lamented as he ruffled his own hair, much shorter than it was back then. “But I guess Ginny has me to thank for that lovely plait, given all the hair you ripped out of my head practicing.”

“No hairs were ripped out in the making of this plait,” Ginny assured them, smiling. She reached for a roll and took a small bite. Harry could tell she was hungry but scared to eat anything more. She swallowed. “Thank you for teaching him, most helpful.”

“Remember how we used to have braid-offs?” said James, his arm around Lily. “To see if Harry or I could braid faster?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry laughed, recollecting it. “Whoever was braiding Mum’s hair always won,” he told Ginny, holding her hand on his thigh. “Because hers was much easier to work with than Sirius’s.”

As Sirius took great offense to this and started going on about how female conditioner is better than male conditioner and it took him a year to figure that out and make the switch, Harry looked over at his wife and saw her scrunching up her features. “You ok?” he asked, quiet but concerned.

“I thought I was done, but…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose and out through her mouth. “I don’t think that’s the case.”

And then she stood up abruptly, mumbled, “excuse me,” and ran down the hall, slamming the bathroom door behind her.

They all went quiet, staring at the closed door.

James spoke first. “Is she alright? If Ginny’s sick we can get going, you can take care of her.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s-” he stammered, unsure of how to finish his sentence.

“Harry,” said Lily, compassion in her voice. She knew. Harry knew she knew. She smiled at him. “Go check up on her, let her decide.”

He could tell she meant let her decide if she wants to tell them the news more than decide if they should leave. Harry nodded, getting up from his seat and apologizing. “Sorry, be right back.”

He walked quickly down the hall and knocked on the door. “It’s me,” he said. “Can I come in?”

Harry heard her clear her voice before responding, “Yes.”

There she was on the floor again, head hanging in defeat over the toilet, a sight that Harry has been saddened to become so familiar with over the past couple of weeks, despite the otherwise wonderful cause of it.

He shut the door behind him, and squatted down on the floor, gently placing a hand on her back.

“Your mum so knows,” she grumbled. “Doesn’t she?”

“I suspect so, yeah,” he replied as she flushed the toilet. “Gin, if you don’t want to tell them yet we don’t have to, we can tell them you’re sick and they can go home.”

She shook her head slowly and turned her gaze to her husband. “No, let’s tell them. I want them to know. It’s just...we haven’t told anyone, you know? Saying it out loud makes it feel more real.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, of course not,” she clarified. “I’m so happy, you know that. But it’s still scary.”

He smiled, moving closer to her as he continued to rub her back. “They’ll help us.”

“I know they will,” she smiled back.

Harry helped her up again, and she moved to wash her hands and face. As she was finishing up he asked, “Are you sure you’re done?”

“Yeah, that was the last of it,” Ginny stated in reassurance. She rinsed with mouthwash and spit it out. “This baby better be worth all the vomit.”

Harry laughed, pulling her in, enveloping her in a hug with gentle arms. “It will be.”

She sighed against him, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his jaw, which then prompted him to lean down and kiss her on the mouth. She pulled away laughing. “You do not want to kiss me after that.”

“I always want to kiss you,” he told her in earnest. “You used mouthwash, it’s fine.”

“Harry-”

He caught her lips with his own, kissing her passionately. And how could he not? She was going to be the mother of their child. He felt so grateful to her, so guilty that she had to be the one to bear the bodily burden of it all. He hoped he could translate it all into his kiss.

Ginny must’ve understood- she always did - as she kissed him back with equal enthusiasm for a minute before pulling away again. “Harry,” she repeated, this time with tenderness in her voice.

“Sorry,” he said. He moved a stray hair from her braid and tucked it behind her ear. His heart was swelling. He could hold her all day. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she told him as her eyes softened. “Alright, let’s do this.”

They exited the bathroom together and approached the dining room table. Before they could even sit back down Sirius said, “Are you pregnant or something?”

James groaned and Lily smacked Sirius’s arm hard.

Sirius swore loudly, glaring at Lily. “What the hell, Evans?”

“That’s a rude question to ask, Pads,” James muttered.

“No tact,” Lily sighed in disappointment. “None, whatsoever!”

“I was just asking an innocent question! Her sprinting from the table just reminded me of you when you were pregnant with this one,” Sirius said, nudging his head towards his godson. Then he looked at them. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude.”

Before Harry could interject, Ginny said, “No, it’s ok. You’re right.”

The room fell quiet. James’s eyes widened. “Come again?”

“He’s right,” she repeated. “I am pregnant.”

“Surprise?” Harry offered.

There was a beat, and then Lily, James, and Sirius all started speaking at once, sharing their congratulations, shooting up out of their seats and moving to hug them. When Lily reached her son, she put both her hands on his face, and she had tears in her eyes.

Harry smiled. “You knew, right?”

“A mother always does,” she confirmed, giving him a kiss on the forehead. “You’ll learn that soon enough when Ginny suddenly becomes all-knowing.”

“She already is.”

[kurokoros]

thicc | kuroo

Rated: M

Words: 9.2K

Pairing: kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: Kuroo has nice thighs. Unfortunately, you aren’t the only one who notices.

AN: A belated birthday gift for @whats-her-quirk​. Happy (late) birthday, June <3 Have some smut! I’m sorry it’s stupidly long! Also, I’m sorry for any glaring mistakes, I didn’t edit this asdfghjkl

Warnings: smut, jealousy thigh riding, spanking, mild choking, dirty talk (praise and degradation), wall sex, unprotected sex

If you had to pick your favorite thing about volleyball it would be the players. Well, one player in particular. It’s always hard for you to keep your eyes of Kuroo when he plays, your gaze always drifting back to him even when you should be following the ball. More specifically, it’s always hard for you to keep your eyes off his thighs in those sinfully short shorts.

And the practice match tonight is no different, your eyes glued to Kuroo’s legs as he jumps to block a spike, his muscles tensing as he moves, sweat dripping down his skin.

Thank god you let Akaashi drag you with him to the match tonight. Your plan was originally to stay home and study, but Bokuto had whined and begged until Akaashi agreed to watch the match, and somehow you were roped into coming as well. Earlier, you were a little irritated about being dragged out on your one night off, but now you definitely aren’t complaining.

“You’re drooling,” Akaashi tells you. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s smirking.

Reluctant to take your eyes off Kuroo, you jab him with your elbow. “Shut up, Keiji,” you snap, blatantly staring at Kuroo as he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. Chancing a glance at your friend, you see him doing the same to Bokuto. “Like you’re any better.”

Akaashi has the decency to pretend like he wasn’t just ogling his boyfriend’s glistening abs, but you have zero shame in staring.

Like he can feel your eyes on him, Kuroo looks up at you in the stands. His expression brightens, and he smirks, sending you a wink before turning back to the game. And fuck if that’s not the sexiest thing you’ve seen all day. You can’t wait to wipe that stupid smirk off his face tonight when you—

A loud whine drags you from your daydream, your gaze snapping away from Kuroo only to land on a pouting Yukie. With another whine, she drops her head onto your shoulder, the sound muffled by the too large jacket wrapped around you. Raising an eyebrow, you glance at Kaori over Yukie’s head, but the other girl only sighs. On your other side, Akaashi leans forward enough to look at Yukie as well.

Before you can ask her what’s wrong, Yukie’s arms slide around your waist. She pulls her face from your arm and props her chin against your shoulder, a heavy, dramatic sigh falling from her mouth. “Ugh,” she groans, looking at you and Akaashi, who only blinks back at her, “you two are so lucky to have such hot boyfriends.”

You almost choke on your spit when her words register. Behind her, Kaori looks absolutely scandalized, her eyes wide with horror. You’re barely able to smother your laughter when you catch a glimpse of Akaashi’s bewildered expression.

He blinks at Yukie again, mouth opening and then closing just as quickly before he finally settles on a confused, “Thank you.”

Yukie nods, her gaze sliding back to the volleyball game going on below. She hums in thought as she watches the ball move, eyes latching onto a familiar player. “Bokuto is thick,” she continues suddenly, rambling to herself. “Thick. With two Cs. Like, damn, look at him next to Oikawa’s pancake ass and tell me that that—what do the kids say, cake?—isn’t the nicest thing you’ve ever seen. Not that Oikawa isn’t hot too, but you know how I like a nice ass.”

You’re trying not to wheeze at this point, your shoulders shaking with barely muffled giggles as Yukie’s attention shifts to Oikawa’s flat ass. Next to you, Akaashi looks like he’d rather be literally anywhere else, and you knock your shoulder against his. His exasperated expression only makes you laugh harder.

Of course, that’s when Yukie turns her attention to your boyfriend.

“Oooh, and don’t get me started on Kuroo. Those are some pretty damn delicious arms. And his thighs! God, he could crush me with those and I’d say thanks.” Your laughter cuts off abruptly, your shoulder stiff beneath Yukie’s chin as her eyes wander over Kuroo slowly, watching as he jumps to successfully block a spike. She hums appreciatively, and you bristle immediately, a sick feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach the longer she looks at him. “They aren’t as beefy as Daichi’s, but Kuroo can—”

Kaori slaps a hand over Yukie’s mouth before she can continue. “Okay, that’s enough out of you,” she says, trying to pull your whining friend off of you while sharing a look with Akaashi.

Yukie only clings to you tighter, arms squeezing around your torso. “What, I’m single! I can look at anyone I want. I just can’t touch, pinch, or lick. It’s not my fault every guy we know is stupidly hot and taken.” Yukie stops suddenly, patting your thigh almost comfortingly. “Congratulations on scoring a hot piece of ass by the way.”

The possessiveness that flares in your chest is shoved back down as you remind yourself that this is Yukie. Your friend. She’s just being ridiculously thirsty as usual. It’s not a big deal. Nope. Not at all.

“Don’t you have a thing with Konoha?” you ask, desperate to change the subject from the aforementioned hot piece of ass that you’re dating. From what you remember from your last girl’s night, Yukie had gone on a handful of dates with the former Fukurodani player and things were going pretty well.

The question only makes Yukie’s expression darken. Her lazy grin disappears, replaced with narrowed eyes and a pout. “He doesn’t seem to think so,” she says, tone dripping with venom that makes your eyes widen. Before you can ask what she means, her mood shifts again. Yukie’s eyes brighten. She throws her arms up, yelling in excitement as the team scores a point.

You lean around her to look at Kaori, bemusement slowly turning to realization. “Is she drunk?”

A tired nod is all the response you need. “Very. She got into the wine while I was in class this afternoon. Apparently Konoha went out with another girl the other night? I’m not sure.”

Yeah, that’ll do it. “Of course, she did.” You settle back in your seat and allow Yukie to lean against your shoulder once more, only half listening to her rambling on about the game and the hot players on both teams. Now that you’re aware of it, you can hear the slight slur in the way she’s talking. That makes you feel a little bit better about her talking so openly about Kuroo. Just a little.

Jealousy is a bitch.

You almost forget about what Yukie said by the time the game is done. Almost. The players are just finishing cleaning up and gathering their things, and you, Akaashi, Kaori, and an intoxicated Yukie are waiting just outside the gym, chatting quietly as you wait for your friends to come out.

It isn’t long before the door to the locker room slams open, cutting Kaori off mid-sentence as the boys leave the gym. Footsteps pound against the floor. You look up just in time to watch Bokuto launch himself through the air and nearly tackle Akaashi to the floor, three inches taller and nearly thirty pounds heavier. Akaashi grunts in surprise, barely able to hold himself up as Bokuto’s arms and legs wrap around him. A noisy kiss is pressed against Akaashi’s cheek, but your attention is already somewhere else.

There’s a stupid grin spreading across your face as soon as you see Kuroo coming down the hallway flanked by Oikawa and Daichi, the three deep in conversation. Even from here you can see Kuroo’s eyes rolling, and you figure they’re talking about Bokuto’s frankly exhausting amount of energy post-game.

You consider calling out to him, but decide to take another second to stare at him instead. It’s unfair how good he looks after a workout, and you might as well enjoy it before he gets the chance to tease you for ogling him.

Yukie isn’t nearly as tactful. “Kuroo!” she calls across the room, waving her arms to get his attention. She nearly smacks you across the face with her flailing, giggling when you nearly drop her in surprise. Kaori hurriedly grabs Yukie as the drunk girl starts to slip from your grasp, and behind you Akaashi is still being smothered in Bokuto’s affections despite his complaints about sweat and PDA.

Kuroo’s head snaps up at the sound of his name, attention turning from Oikawa to Yukie, then to you. A grin immediately makes its way onto his face, his expression lighting up when he sees you. Oikawa says something that makes Kuroo shove him, and one of their other teammates laughs. Waving them off, Kuroo shrugs his bag higher on his shoulder, quickly making his way over to you. A mischievous smile tugs at his lips, and you know he’s just waiting to wrap you up in a bear hug and soak in some much-needed attention.

He’s halfway across the room when Yukie stops giggling long enough to shout, “Nice thighs!”

Kuroo’s steps falter, his eyes wide.

This time, you do drop Yukie. Kaori yelps at the extra weight, not expecting you to let go so suddenly and leave her as the only thing keeping Yukie from falling on her face. Yukie only starts giggling even harder, and you can hear Bokuto snickering as well from where he’s still wrapped around Akaashi.

It takes Kuroo a second to regain his bearings, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly as Oikawa laughs obnoxiously. Daichi at least has the decency to pretend he isn’t laughing as Kuroo calls back a confused “Thanks?” Shaking his head, Kuroo’s gaze returns to you, but you’re busy staring at Yukie.

Like before, there’s a sick feeling swirling around in your stomach. You know exactly what it is and force down the bitter, jealous, possessiveness that rises in your throat. It’s a feeling that you hate, but sometimes it’s hard to brush aside, no matter how much you trust Kuroo and no matter how obvious it is that Yukie is just being herself, albeit significantly more intoxicated.

By the time your attention snaps away from Yukie, the boys are closer. Oikawa is still snickering at your boyfriend’s expense, much to Kuroo’s annoyance. The two are exchanging quips, but Kuroo only has eyes for you.

Unfortunately, Yukie is still giggling and swaying next to you, you’re still more jealous than you’d ever admit out loud, and Daichi just happens to be the closest.

It’s almost an unspoken rule that Kuroo is always the first player you congratulate on a game. Usually, he has you wrapped up in a tight embrace as soon as he sees you, strong arms lifting you straight off the ground in his excitement. Just like Bokuto with Akaashi.

So, when Daichi goes to slip around you and help Kaori with Yukie, it comes as a surprise to everyone when you stop him with a light touch on the bare part of his upper arm. “Good game!” is all that you say to him, sending him a smile before letting go just as quickly once he nods, grateful, albeit confused.

You don’t notice the look that Bokuto and Akaashi share behind you.

Kuroo doesn’t look bothered at all by your brief interaction with Daichi, and somehow that makes you feel even worse. Lean arms wrap around your waist and tug you against a firm chest. Warm, slightly chapped lips press a gentle kiss to your temple. “You ready to go home, baby?” he murmurs against your ear.

One of his hands traces the length of your spine until he’s cupping the back of your neck, thumb sweeping across your skin.

Leaning into him, you tilt your head back to meet his eyes. “Yeah.” You wrap your own arms around him, holding on just as tight. “Good game.”

You’ve only been at Kuroo’s apartment for thirty minutes and you’re already about two seconds away from throwing something at Akaashi. With your volleyball player boyfriends wanting to clean up post-game, you’ve been alone with your best friend since Kuroo pressed a sloppy kiss to your forehead before racing Bokuto to the bathroom, only narrowly beating the other man—who sat outside the door sulking until Kuroo was done.

Normally, you wouldn’t mind the situation, but you can already tell that Akaashi has something he wants to say, and it’s a conversation that you really don’t want to have tonight.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you don’t dare look at him, all but feeling his stare burning into the side of your face as you stir a spoonful of honey into your tea and watch it dissolve. It’s too quiet in the kitchen. The clinking of your spoon against the side of your mug is too loud, and even Bokuto’s muffled, tone-deaf singing coming from the bathroom down the hall doesn’t lighten the mood. Nose wrinkling, you stop stirring your tea. An irritated sigh slips from your mouth.

He’s still staring, leaning against the counter across from you. Ignoring Akaashi is proving to be more difficult than you initially anticipated. You’re painfully aware of his presence. He’s scrutinizing you, brows furrowed in thought, and you know as soon as you look at him, he’ll know exactly what you’re thinking.

“So,” he starts casually—too casually—eyeing you over the rim of his mug, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

You consider flat out ignoring him, but decide that’s too mean. “Isn’t it too late for you to be interrogating me, Keiji?” you ask, propping your chin against one hand as you finally look at him.

He raises an eyebrow at your word choice. “Who said anything about interrogating you?”

“I’m not upset,” you tell him, you know, like a liar. “I’m just tired. It’s getting late.” Another lie. It’s barely ten. Usually on nights when you stay over, you and Kuroo are up late watching movies or fooling around in his room.

“Okay,” he says, dropping it immediately, much to your surprise. He doesn’t look at you as he grabs his tea off the counter. The mug makes it halfway to his mouth before Akaashi sets it back down with a sigh. “Actually, no. I’m not humoring you tonight.” The look he sends you is stern. “It’s okay for you to be upset about what Yukie said, but it’s not fair to—”

Before he can really start to lecture you, he’s cut off by an enthusiastic blur of blue and gray nearly lunging over the counter to tackle him in a hug. “Keiji!” Bokuto croons, face buried in his boyfriend’s neck.

Akaashi grunts as the wind is knocked out of him, Bokuto giving him a tight squeeze around the middle. “Kou, don’t be so loud,” he chastises, but doesn’t shove Bokuto away. With a sigh, he allows himself to be kissed on the cheek and cuddled, casual indifference broken by a secretive, fond smile.

You consider teasing him, but decide against it, content to let them be.

A moment later, long arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you against a firm chest as lips press against your temple, then your cheek. “Hey, kitten,” Kuroo murmurs, voice muffled as he leans down to kiss the side of your neck. His messy hair tickles your cheek, still damp from his shower, and you automatically relax as the familiar scent of his shampoo tickles your nose. Another kiss is placed just below your jaw, where he can feel your pulse jump under his touch. His lips curl into a smile that you know only means trouble, and you shudder as Kuroo’s fingers inch beneath the hem of your shirt.

Akaashi rolls his eyes at Kuroo’s PDA, and Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows. They’re both used to your boyfriend being a sexual menace by now. He’s like this more often than not after a game. The adrenalin makes him grabby.

Your breath hitches as Kuroo’s hands get a little bolder, “Behave,” you tell him, but don’t try to stop him. He won’t get too handsy with Bokuto and Akaashi right across the counter. And, honestly, after what happened earlier, you’re just as needy as he is right now.

His smirk widens. “You like me better when I don’t.” A sneaky hand snakes around your hips to pinch your ass and you squeal.

You reach around to smack his shoulder as he cackles. “Tetsurou!”

He backs off but doesn’t let you go completely, arms moving back to your waist and wrapping around you tightly. His lips press against the side of your head apologetically, coaxing you to lean back against him, and you roll your eyes as you feel him shake with barely muffled laughter. Abandoning your tea on the counter, you place your hands on his arms.

That seems to placate him for the time being. At least, enough for him to turn his attention to your friends across the counter. Kuroo makes himself comfortable behind you, subtly resting more of his weight against your back as he and Bokuto begin to bicker about another practice match they have later this week.

With his boyfriend momentarily distracted, Akaashi goes back to observing you from across the counter, which you purposely ignore, instead focusing on Bokuto’s animated expressions and the gentle rumble of Kuroo’s chest vibrating against your back every time he speaks. Undeterred by your refusal to look at him, Akaashi crosses his arms, staring at you even harder, like somehow he’ll be able to see right through you.

“Do we really have to go to the gym tomorrow?” Kuroo whines. “It’s Saturday, bro, we can take one day off.”

Bokuto gasps, scandalized. “Never skip leg day, Kuroo!” Huffing, he jabs a finger in your boyfriend’s direction. “You want to be dummy thick like Daichi, don’t you?” he asks, much to your amusement. Akaashi looks like he’s in physical pain, and it’s all you can do to keep from cackling right then.

Kuroo’s grip on you tightens just a fraction. The arms that are wrapped around your waist tense, but when you try to look at him, Kuroo tucks you under his chin. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “I think my thighs are thick enough, thanks,” he tells Bokuto dryly. He squeezes your hip when your fingers brush against his forearm, and his tone turns teasing as his attention returns to you. “What do you think, baby?”

The mention of his thighs makes you tense, too. Yukie’s gushing compliments from the game punching straight through your chest and make your stomach twist into knots. And your good mood plummets. There’s a sour taste in the back of your mouth, and you aren’t quick enough to stop a sarcastic quip from slipping out.

“Why don’t you go ask Yukie? I’m sure she’ll tell you how thick they are.” Your tone is clipped, sharp, and you only realize you’ve said it out loud when you feel Kuroo stiffen behind you again, but by then it’s too late.

The tight grip he has on your waist loosens in surprise, Kuroo’s hands falling limply to his sides as he stares down at you in utter bewilderment. “What?” He sounds as hurt as he does confused. The softness of his tone strikes you between your ribs and makes you wince.

Horrified, all you can do is stare at the pair across the counter. Bokuto looks at you, then Kuroo, his eyes wide. Beside him, Akaashi just sighs, sending you a look that’s a clear cross between “you fucked up” and “I tried to tell you”, and for once you can’t even argue with that.

Unsure how to respond to the mess you’ve made, you send Akaashi a pleading look. If anyone can diffuse a situation before it starts, it’s Akaashi. He meets your gaze across the counter, his eyebrows furrowing just the slightest as he looks from you, to Kuroo, and back to you.

“Kou,” Akaashi says suddenly, breaking the tense silence by turning to his boyfriend, “why don’t we go see Konoha tonight? It’s been awhile since we saw him.”

“What?” Bokuto replies, confused, still staring at you and Kuroo owlishly. “Keiji, we just saw him yesterday—oh!” It takes him a second, but then he’s grabbing Akaashi’s hand and all but dragging the other man towards the door. “Right! Let’s go!” Bokuto glances at you and Kuroo over his shoulder, grinning. “You two have fun tonight! But not too much fun, or we won’t get the deposit back on—ouch!” He pouts, rubbing his shoulder where Akaashi smacked him.

“We’ll be back in an hour,” Akaashi says to you. Then, to Kuroo, “Not on the counter, please.”

The insinuation makes your eyes widen, and you shoot Akaashi a nasty look, which he ignores. Talk it out or fuck, is what he doesn’t say out loud, and you tense in anticipation despite the concoction of other emotions swirling in your stomach.

Kuroo makes a low sound in the back of his throat and leans forward again, caging you in as his palms press against the countertop on either side of you. With his chest flush against your back, you can feel how tense he is. “No promises.”

Rolling his eyes, Akaashi grabs his keys out of the bowl by the door and allows Bokuto to pull him out of the apartment. The door closes with more force than necessary, loud slam giving way to silence as soon as you and Kuroo are alone.

Pinned between him and the counter like this, you can feel the heat of his breath puffing against the side of your neck. His fingers flex against the counter top, and your gaze is drawn to the lean muscles of his arms on either side of you.

Yukie’s comments claw at you again, and you grimace. It’s a stupid thing to fixate on. You feel ridiculous for letting it bother you in the first place, and you’re sure Kuroo is confused. Maybe upset. You aren’t usually snappy with him. And Akaashi was right. It’s not fair for you to take your jealousy out on Kuroo.

Sighing, you ready yourself to apologize.

“Are you going to keep acting like a little brat, or are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” His lips brush against your skin as he speaks, touch soft compared to his tone. Your eyes widen as he presses himself up against your back. There isn’t an inch of space left between you. An open-mouthed kiss is placed just below your ear, and you shudder as his teeth graze the side of your neck. When you don’t respond, Kuroo sighs. “I’m not going to ask you again,” he warns you.

Kuroo leans forward, keeping you pinned to the counter as one of his hands drifts back to your waist. The pad of his thumb grazes your hip where your shirt has ridden up, teasing you. Your breath catches. His weight against your back is equal parts comforting and arousing. And Kuroo knows exactly how to touch you, how to turn you into a shivering mess until you’re practically begging for him.

It’s hard not to do exactly that when his breath is fanning over the side of your neck and his fingers are slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. Hot and wet, his lips graze a sensitive spot below your jaw. He doesn’t kiss you, but he’s close, and you feel the slightest twitch of his mouth. You can’t tell if it’s a smile or if your silence is pissing him off. The latter makes your pulse jump, your heart racing.

“Yukie was talking about you at the game,” you finally tell him. It sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud. Petty jealousy. But you can’t help it sometimes. Not when he’s all tousled hair and sly smirks that could drive anyone crazy.

Kuroo pauses. “Oh?” Warm lips place a soft kiss on your neck, and your head falls back against his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut. An appreciative sound slips from his throat. Another kiss is pressed to your throat, hot and open-mouthed. Shivers run down your spine as his hips rock forward against your ass. “And what was she saying about me?”

His teeth scrape over your skin, just enough for you to feel it, and you jolt. A breathy whine escapes you before you can stop it. Kuroo chuckles, voice deeper than usual, and you try not to squirm as he nips at you, voice a low murmur as he speaks. “Don’t get shy on me now, kitten,” he taunts, “you were so mouthy a minute ago.”

When you take too long to answer, Kuroo’s fingers sneak beneath your shirt to pinch your hip. You yelp, squirming away from his fingers, but that only drives you further back against him. Grunting, Kuroo pins your hips against the counter. Already half-hard, he grinds against your ass lazily. The thin fabric of his sweats does nothing to hide his growing arousal, and warmth rushes through you, liquid heat pooling in your belly.

“Your arms,” you manage to tell him. He acknowledges you with a hum, sound muffled by his teeth and tongue as he continues to tease your neck. “And your thighs.” Your next admission is softer and a little bitter. “She wouldn’t stop staring at you.” A lot of girls stare at him. They always have. It shouldn’t still get to you, not when you’re the one he’s touching like this, hands wandering over your skin and his mouth sucking a bruise onto your neck.

There’s nothing to be jealous of when he’s already yours, and he seems intent on proving that to you.

“Yeah?” Kuroo asks. “Is that why you were trying to make me jealous after the game?” Smugness practically rolls from him in waves. His lips curl into a smirk. “Hmm? Trying to get me all riled up?”

You barely choke out a, “Yes.”

It surprises you when Kuroo’s mouth rips away from your neck. His touch is gone for an agonizing moment before reappearing on your cheek. The kiss he places there is softer this time, sweeter, and it makes your heart swell in your chest as he shifts to whisper in your ear. “You know I’m yours, right?” His hand is pressed against your abdomen now, fingers spread out to cover as much of you as possible. He waits until you nod and sighs. “Good.” He kisses your cheek again, then your jaw, his lips wandering back to your neck.

And just like that a switch seems to flip in him again. “And you’re mine,” Kuroo continues, voice lower than before. “Or do I have to remind you who you belong to?” His hand slides up your stomach, inching towards your chest.

“Tetsu,” you gasp, arching into his clever hand.

“What do you call me, kitten?” It’s more of a demand than a question, and you keen as his fingers slip beneath your bra. His calloused thumb brushes against your nipple before he pinches it between his fingers just to watch you squirm.

Breath catching, you wet your bottom lip. “Sir,” you correct yourself, letting him tilt your head to the side, positioning you just the way he wants you. Your easy compliance makes him grin. Kuroo grinds against your ass again, harder this time, and you squeeze your thighs together as heat licks across your spine.

“Good girl.”

His lips meet your jaw in a chaste kiss, and he squeezes your breast once, palming you before letting go. As his hand snakes out from beneath your shirt, you expect him to yank you around, force your head back and dominate you with a rough kiss, so you’re surprised when his touch leaves you entirely. Like before, his palms press against the top of the counter. Even his weight leaves your back, an inch of space between you that feels too wide and painfully close all at once. The heat of his breath tickles the back of your neck, and you shudder at his proximity, desperate for his touch.

There’s a whiny tone to your voice when you call out his name. “Tetsu,” you whimper, torn between begging for him and holding onto your stubborn pride. Anything to get him to touch you again. Already, there’s an ache forming in the pit of your stomach, and he’s hardly done anything yet.

When he ignores you, you huff. Taking matters into your own hands, you press your palms to the counter top and grind yourself back against his crotch. Satisfaction bursts in your chest as he makes a surprised sound in the back of his throat, but your pleased grin at catching him off-guard disappears as his hand comes down on your ass with a sharp slap.

This time, you yelp, mouth dropping open in a silent cry as his big hand squeezes your ass over your shorts. “So impatient,” Kuroo muses, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Are you gonna behave for me, or are you gonna keep acting like a brat?” There’s a condescending edge to his tone, and you wish it didn’t turn you on as much as it did. And he knows it too.

As he waits for you to respond, Kuroo places his hands on your hips. His thumbs trace slow circles on your sides, slowly inching your shirt upwards as he fights the urge to rip the thin fabric over your head and take in every inch of your skin under his greedy touch.

And fuck if that’s not exactly what you want right now. It’s a miracle that you aren’t already trembling for him, hyper-aware of his every move. His heated touch. “I’ll behave,” you tell him. The chilled edge of the counter presses against your abdomen as he drags your top higher, but the cold is chased away by his palms ghosting over your sides.

“What was that, kitten?” You don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking, pleased with himself for making you such a mess already.

You wet your lips again. “I’ll behave, sir,” you repeat yourself, louder this time.

You’re rewarded with another pleased sound rumbling in his chest. “That’s my good girl,” Kuroo says again. His hands are on your ribs now, his thumbs tracing the underside of your lacy bra. Your shirt is carefully tugged off over your head before he carelessly tosses it to the floor, hands going right back to your painfully soft skin. Both of you revel in the contact.

Kuroo’s mouth is back on your neck immediately, lip wandering over every inch of newly bared skin available to him, all teeth and tongue as he peppers your skin with faint hickeys and love-bites. His teeth graze a sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder. His hands are everywhere. Palming your breasts. Drawing circles and shapes across your sides. Slipping between your legs to stroke your thighs and flirt with the hem of your shorts, teasingly close to where you really want him.

And then his hand wraps around your throat. He doesn’t choke you, grip loose enough for you to breathe, but the slightest pressure has goosebumps erupting across your skin. Your legs tremble as he squeezes just the slightest.

He nips at your exposed neck, and your breath hitches as two long fingers trace your slit over your shorts, applying just enough pressure to your clit for your hips to jump into his touch. Your head falls back against his shoulder again, your eyes squeezing shut as your mouth drops open.

A frustrated whine builds in your throat as he pulls away, but he’s quick to hush you, his hand slipping under the waist of your shorts to tug them down your hips. Left in just your panties, you rub your thighs together, flushing when you feel just how wet you are already. Your panties stick to your skin in a way that’s almost embarrassing, and you know it’ll only stroke Kuroo’s ego even harder.

“Fuck,” Kuroo murmurs as your panties slide down to your ankles. “I’ve been wanting to take these off you all damn day.” He leans back to get a good look at you, half-naked and dripping for him, and the sight goes right to his cock. “Such a cute little ass.” A hard spank to your right cheek makes you gasp, the sharp sting of pain making your eyes water. He’s quick to soothe the tender spot, chuckling, low and throaty, a deep baritone that hits you right between the legs.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was not to bend you over right in front of Bokuto and Akaashi?” he continues. “I bet you would have liked that, huh? Dirty little slut.” Kuroo’s hand is back between your legs, teasing your wet slit and sliding over your clit until you’re panting.

His grip shifts around your throat. “Fuck,” you mewl. “Tetsu—Tetsu, please.” You can’t finish the plea, a loud squeal cutting you off as he pinches your clit harshly between his fingers before letting go, pain mixed with the pleasure. “Oh, god.”

“Bend over, kitten,” he tells you, lips against your ear. A hand on your lower back guides you down to the counter, and you comply willingly, stretching up on your toes as your torso is pressed against the smooth surface. Kuroo strokes your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lower lip teasingly. “Don’t move.”

You stay perfectly still even as he backs away, legs quivering from the angle and the stretch, precariously balanced on your toes with the counter digging into your hips. None of that matters though. Not the mild discomfort or the cold seeping into your torso. All you can feel is Kuroo behind you, his gaze burning into your back as he trails the tips of his fingers over the curve of your ass, admiring you.

There’s something a bit like awe in his tone as he murmurs, “Fuck, look at you.” His hands ghost over your hips and thighs, like he isn’t sure where he wants to touch you. “So fucking pretty. Such a good slut for me.”

Kuroo’s hand slides up your back, his fingers tracing the dip of your spine until he reaches the base of your neck, where his long fingers wrap around you, forcing you down harder against the counter top. A low hum slips from his mouth as he looks down at you, sharp eyes drinking in the sight of you, how pretty you look underneath him as you try not to squirm. Leaning over you, he grinds his cock against the back of your thigh teasingly. “Is this what you want, kitten?” he asks you, breath hot against your ear. “You want me to bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless? Make you beg me to let you come all over my cock?”

He squeezes the back of your neck as a breathy sound escapes your mouth. Kuroo kisses your cheek. His lips brush against you as he murmurs, “Well that’s too fucking bad.”

You yelp as you’re suddenly yanked off the counter. Hands latch onto your hips as soon as your feet are on the ground, and you’re ripped around so that you’re facing Kuroo for the first time since he came up behind you earlier. His hazel eyes are almost golden in the kitchen light, and there’s a feral glint in his gaze as he looks at you. “You wanna be naughty? Tease me?” he asks, leaning in until his lips are hovering just above yours. “Come on, kitten, you should know better than that.”

His hand wraps around your throat again, tighter this time, and you’re forced to follow him as he steps away from the counter. Kuroo doesn’t kiss you as he guides you through his apartment, making you walk backwards so you can’t see where he’s taking you.

“What was it that Yukie was saying about my thighs earlier?” he asks you. “What did she say that made you so damn mad?”

“Tetsu,” you whimper.

“You know you aren’t very subtle, kitten.” Belatedly, you realize he’s taken you to his room. Kuroo throws the door shut behind you, but doesn’t bother to lock it. Your cunt clenches at the thought of Bokuto or Akaashi walking in, but Kuroo is quick to drag your attention back to him. “You think I didn’t see you staring at me the entire game? You couldn’t take your damn eyes off me.”

Kuroo lets go of your neck, his hand trailing up to your jaw as he drags his thumb across your bottom lip. He watches you as his hand falls back to his side, and his lips curve upwards as he fists the back of his shirt, yanking the plain t-shirt off in one smooth motion. You can’t help the way your gaze drops to his bare chest and stomach, greedy eyes taking in each defined muscle from years of playing volleyball.

Your gaze only slides lower as his sweatpants drop to the floor as well, leaving him in only a pair of boxers that leave his thick thighs on display. Fuck, if you weren’t dripping before, you definitely are now.

So busy staring at his legs, you don’t notice that his smile is all teeth.

Kuroo drops down onto the edge of the bed, and you gasp as he grabs your hips. Yanking you forward, you’re pulled down to him. Chest to chest. Not an inch of space left between you as he situates you over his leg, forcing you to straddle his thigh. “What were you thinking about, hmm?” he asks as you steady yourself on his broad shoulders, feet barely finding purchase on the floor. Heat sinks into you as his thumbs tease the lacy edge of your underwear. As if to taunt you, he leans in close, breath fanning over your lips. “Was it this?”

With that mocking tone, he shifts beneath you, his hands tight on your hips as he grinds you down against his thigh. The rough drag against your clit makes your eyes flutter shut. Your head drops forward against his shoulder, a shuddering breath falling from your parted lips.

“You wanna fuck yourself on my thigh, kitten?” To emphasize his question, his flexes beneath you, pressing harder against your wet cunt. The angle is just right to have him applying pressure perfectly to your clit. When you try to grind against him, Kuroo grabs your hips, holding you in place. And, when you try it again, he lets go of one of your hips long enough give you a warning smack on the outside of your thigh. The sting makes you shudder. “Dirty girl,” he coos, reaching around to squeeze your ass.

“Please,” you whimper as he mouths at the curve of your jaw. Kuroo kisses across your neck, nipping at you as he works his way down to your shoulder. One of his hands slides between your spread thighs to feel how wet you are, and you have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering as he laughs. You jerk, arching into his teasing touch.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he notes as his fingers slip beneath the damp, flimsy fabric of your panties. Kuroo hums, pleased at the way your arousal coats his fingers.

He circles your clit slowly, each touch sending little pleasurable shocks through you. The knot in your stomach only coils tighter. “Asshole,” you bite out, choking on a moan as he pulls his hand away, leaving you more frustrated than you were a minute ago.

Your tone only gets another laugh from him, deeper and darker than before. “Ouch,” he says, brushing your hair away from your neck, “kitty’s got claws tonight.” His hand wraps around your throat again, long fingers curling around your fragile neck. You still, inhaling sharply, and Kuroo groans as he feels your pulse start to race beneath his hand.

He pulls you further against his chest, naked skin pressed flush against yours. “I thought you said you were going to behave for me,” he reminds you, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth. As his lips trail across your cheek, he shifts his thigh underneath you, dragging himself against your pussy slowly. Kuroo stops when he reaches your ear; his grip on your throat tightens, squeezing enough to steal your breath. “You that jealous? Or do you want me to punish you?”

The question is almost a low growl, and you shiver, thighs squeezing around his muscular one. “Tetsu,” you gasp around the intoxicating grip he has on your throat. “Please, I can’t—I need you,” if what you finally manage to spit out, thoughts muddled and head heavy with arousal.

“Well, you better get to it then,” he tells you, adjusting his grip on your throat. His other hand squeezes tightly around your hip, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. When you don’t move, he bounces his leg. It tears a moan from your chest. “Come on, you know what to do. Why don’t you give me a little show?”

It’s hard to breathe, let alone move. His presence is suffocating in the best way. The hand around your throat. His thigh between yours. The feel of his skin beneath your fingers and the steady beat of his heart where his chest is pressed to yours. All of it has you on edge.

The need swirling in your stomach forces you to move. A slow rhythm picks up as you slide over his thigh, grinding down on him. The tight grip you have on his shoulders is the only thing holding you up, and you shudder at the friction against your swollen clit. A sound of approval leaves Kuroo, and he hums against the side of your jaw, grip tightening just the slightest around your neck.

The grip he has on your hip loosens suddenly. His fingers slides along your side teasingly, his touch so soft that it makes your heart squeeze. You press your chest into his touch as he palms your breast. Deft fingers make quick work of the flimsy fabric, his hand slipping underneath to pinch and roll your nipple just like before. It isn’t long before he’s turned you into a quivering, moaning mess.

The ache between your legs only worsens with each slow roll of your hips against his thigh. The friction is intoxicating, but it isn’t enough. It isn’t what you need. Right now, you want to feel him surrounding you, holding you down as he whispers filthy things in your ear, making you moan for him. You want the pressure of his cock inside you, stretching you, the roughness of his fingers circling your clit until you’re so sensitive you have to beg him to stop.

“That’s it,” he mumbles. “Be a good girl for me and maybe I’ll let you cum.”

Little garbled pleas of his name fall from your lips as he pinches your nipple again, the sharp sting making you lurch forward against his chest.

Releasing your breast, he reaches around your back, fiddling with the clasp of your bra for a second before the fabric comes undone, straps sliding down your arms. You’re barely aware of him prying your fingers from his shoulder and tossing the fabric aside, but when he crushes you against his broad chest, the heat that surrounds you is overwhelming.

Kuroo draws you into a kiss, hot and heavy enough to make your head spin. Letting go of your throat, both of his hands make their way back to your hips, helping you grind down against him harder, faster, your rhythm picking up speed as your legs start to twitch and tremble.

He smacks your ass, gripping tightly and kneading your cheek. The sting distracts you as his other hand disappears beneath your soaked panties. Teasingly, he drags his fingers against your cunt, slick fluid clinging to his skin. “Look at you making a sloppy mess of my leg already.” He chuckles, rubbing two fingers against your clit to make you gasp. “And I’ve barely fucking touched you yet.”

The pace he sets up is hard and fast, determined to send you hurtling towards the edge. Your thighs clench around his, your fingers digging into his shoulders so tightly you swear you might break the skin. By now, your eyes are squeezed shut, your mouth open as you pant and gasp his name. You press yourself tighter to his chest. Sweat-slicked skin makes it easy to slide over his thigh as he plays with your clit.

By now, you’re so turned on that it almost hurts. Each harsh pinch of his fingers on your clit sends shocks of pleasure ripping through you, the coil in your lower belly winding tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips. He slaps your ass suddenly, still thumbing your clit, and the combined sensations make you choke on a moan. Between his fingers and the steady rocking of your hips, you’re going to cum. And you’re going to cum hard.

Kuroo forces you right to the edge; and then he takes it away.

You almost sob as he pulls his fingers out of your panties, Kuroo quick to grab your hips and hold you still, keep you from chasing his touch.

“No,” you gasp, trying to grind down on his thigh despite his iron grip. The lack of stimulation makes you whine, tears welling in your eyes. “No. Tetsu. Oh god, sir, please.”

He releases one of your hips to brush his fingers against your cheek, though the gentleness doesn’t last. Kuroo grips your chin between his fingers, tilting your chin to make you look at him. “I did say I’d have to punish you, kitten,” he reminds you. There’s an apology in his tone, but his wicked smile says he’s anything but. His thumb traces your bottom lip. “Don’t pout. You did so well.” You’re drawn into a sultry kiss that ends too soon. His words are muffled against your lips. “You’re gonna take me so fucking well. Just like a good girl. My good girl.”

“Let me make it up to you,” he says, but it sounds like a taunt.

It’s the only warning you get before his hands are on your ass, gravity shifting beneath you. Kuroo lurches off the bed, hauling you against his chest with ease. Your legs wrap around his waist reflexively, hands desperately grasping at his shoulders to hold yourself up. The bite of your fingernails on his skin makes him groan,

He squeezes your ass appreciatively before slamming you up against the nearest wall.

It knocks the air out of your lungs, and you wince, but Kuroo doesn’t you a moment to breathe before he devours you. His lips are feverish against yours, his tongue in your mouth and his teeth nipping at you until you’re whining and grinding against his cock. Spread open like this, you can only moan into his mouth as the tip brushes against your clit through your underwear.

For once, he doesn’t waste time teasing you, both of you too riled up to wait as he shoves his underwear down. You’re squirming by now, trying to pull him closer with your legs around his hips. A low groan tears from his throat as he shoves your panties aside, his thick cock rubbing against your dripping pussy.

Kuroo’s cock shoves inside of you easily, you’re so wet for him. The stretch burns in the best way, pure ecstasy ripping through you. You whimper as you struggle to take all of him, and your cunt clenches around him so tightly that he tears his mouth from yours to hiss and curse.

“You like that, kitten?” he asks you, groaning as he slaps one hand against the wall to steady himself. The other digs into your thigh. “You like it when it hurts? So fucking naughty.” He presses a sloppy kiss against the side of your neck.

He fucks you roughly. The wall scrapes against your back when he moves, and the little sounds you make only feed his fast pace. He’s perfect inside of you, hard and hot and thick enough to pound against your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his hips. The wet slap of his cock filling you and your breathy panting and moaning are the only sounds in the apartment, so loud that your neighbors are sure to hear.

You tremble as Kuroo fucks you, only able to cling to him as pleasure makes you dizzy. You’re so close. You’re so, so close, and he must know it with the way you’re tightening around him with every roll of your hips.

His teeth dig into the curve of your neck and shoulder, and you yelp, fisting at his hair. He moans as you pull on the messy strands clenched in your fist, and his cock shoves inside of you even harder. “You wanna act like a little slut?” he pants against your ear, hand coming down on the outside of your thigh. “I’ll treat you like one. You think Daichi could make you feel this good?”

You moan, barely able to shake your head. You don’t want Daichi. You’ve never wanted Daichi. “Just you,” you choke out.

“Good girl.” And then his fingers are on your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles onto your swollen nerves.

Pleasure rips through you as you cum, white-hot and electric. The knot in your stomach snaps as your orgasm hits you, slamming the breath from your lungs. Your hips jerk between him and the wall. Your limbs tremble, heavy, and you shudder as you drop your head against his shoulder, biting down to keep yourself from shouting. The grip you have on his back slips, and your fingernails rake down his back, marking him up.

“Shit,” he sneers. Kuroo fucks you through it, grinding against you harder as your pussy clenches around his cock with every thrust, each rougher than the last. Calloused fingers continue to roll over your clit, though not as frantic as before. His thumb draws lazy circles against your sensitive nerves, swirling and playing with your clit until you’re shaking again.

Whimpering, you try to squirm away from his hand as the pleasure becomes overwhelming, stimulation bordering on too much, too fast until it hurts. “Tetsu,” you gasp, choking out his name. “I can’t—”

He slaps your thigh once. Twice. Then grabs your ass and grinds you against his cock, reaching so deep inside you. “No, no, no,” he mumbles nonsensically. “Not yet. We’re not done yet. Not until you give me one more.” Your walls flutter around him, slick walls sucking him in. “Fuck, that’s it, kitten. Just like that.” He wets his lips, mouth on your neck. “Cum for me again. Such, a good girl.”

Kuroo’s hand wraps around your throat again, squeezing hard. You choke, unable to breathe, and your eyes squeeze shut. You pull his hair. Rake your fingernails down his back. Desperate for anything to hold onto as your muscles twitch and tense. You’re so close. You’re so fucking close.

Squealing, you flinch as his clever fingers sneak back to your clit, determined to make you cum one more time.

And you do, clenching around him beautifully, pussy gripping him tight. All you can do is shake and gasp as another orgasm tears through you, the coil in your gut snapping for the second time tonight. Dark spots float across your vision as you cum on his cock, Kuroo moaning against your ear as he follows you. Hot, thick fluid fills you up as he continues to thrust inside of you, drawing out your release.

You gasp as his hand leaves your throat, panting and dizzy.

Kuroo cradles you against his chest, careful not to drop you as he presses his lips against your temple, murmuring words too low for you to hear. He pulls out slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs as he carries you to his bed.

It’s a few minutes later, when you’re curled up beside him and drowsy, that you remember everything from earlier.

“I’m sorry for trying to use Daichi to make you jealous,” you murmur against the crook of his neck, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers lazily caress your skin, drawing mindless patterns across your back as you cuddle against his side. “I don’t…” you bite your lip as you trail off, and Kuroo’s arm tightens around your waist almost protectively. “I don’t want you to feel like that. I don’t want you to think you can’t trust me. And I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you.”

Your voice is barely a whisper by the end, words breathed against his chest and swallowed up by the stillness of the room.

Kuroo tilts his chin to rest his head against yours. His fingers still against your side as he glances at you, focusing on the curve of your jaw in the half-light. “It’s okay,” he tells you just as softly. Gently, he pulls you a little closer, heaving a loud, obnoxious sigh. “I get it, he’s just so dummy thick. How could anyone resist that?”

Trying not to laugh, you weakly slap at his bare chest, but Kuroo just grabs your hand and smoothly laces his fingers with yours. “Stop,” you whine, tucking your flushed face against his shoulder. Warm lips press against your knuckles, and you can feel him trying not to laugh underneath you.

“Am I not thick enough for you, kitten?” he continues, voice dripping with faux hurt. You roll your eyes, peeking up at him only to find a pout on his lips. At your silence, Kuroo props himself up on his elbow so that he can look at you. “Damn, maybe Bokuto’s right, I shouldn’t skip leg day tomorrow. Shit, maybe I should go right now—”

He moves to get off the bed and you groan, unamused. “Tetsu.” You catch his hand before he can go far, and he lets you pull him down on top of you. “Stop teasing me.”

“You love it,” he murmurs, pressing a sloppy kiss against your cheek. “You know, maybe Yukie should compliment my thighs more. You’re pretty hot when you’re jealous.” His lips move to your neck, and you try not to roll your eyes again. As if he didn’t just fuck the hell out of you because he was jealous. Before you get the chance, Kuroo leans back to look at you. His knuckles slide against your cheek. “You okay? Need anything.” You shake your head and he kisses your cheek. “That’s my good girl.” He’s quiet for a minute. “You know I’m yours, right?”

Heart clenching in your chest, you murmur an affirmative.

“Good.”

As he settles back down, you let him cover you like a clingy, weighted blanket, his touch comforting as he wraps himself around you.

The sweet moment ends abruptly. The apartment door opens and closes loudly, a warning that your roommates are home. It’s quiet for a moment, but then Akaashi’s loud “son of a bitch!” when he sees your clothes on the floor makes your eyes fly open.

Kuroo buries his face against your hair and cackles.

[pinkja]

Comfort (Dina x Reader x Ellie) Modern AU

In which an uncomfortable family visit leaves Ellie and Dina picking up the pieces.

(Quick note, this was just suppose to be a request but it got personal really quickly and it’s… a lot like it’s a lot. But hey! I’m back writing again!)

Tw for some implied abuse and childhood trauma

—

The smell of pancakes overwhelmed your senses as you shifted awake. You could feel the sunlight on your skin as your arms peeked out from under the covers, stretching above you as you sat up. With a yawn that lasted way too long, and your eyes barely opening, you fought the signs to go back to sleep and slipped out of bed, socks protecting your feet from the cold floor.

Your king sized bed was empty that morning, two of it’s usual patrons starting their day earlier, leaving you with a small feeling of emptiness without them. Scratching your stomach, you walked to the bathroom to brush your teeth, stepping on one of your girlfriend’s pants that you would make sure to scold them for later if you cared enough to figure out who the pants belonged to. After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you were finally able to see clearly and be somewhat present in reality. You didn’t bother changing out of your nightclothes, your day off being a perfect excuse to ignore appearances. As you got closer to the kitchen, the smell of food got stronger, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten a while, stomach growling at the prospects of being filled.

Must be Dina, you thought as you opened the kitchen door, suspicions proving correct as you were met with the back of your girlfriend, ponytail swishing as she hummed a tune while putting freshly cooked pancakes on a plate. She turned around slightly, brown eyes meeting yours and a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Overcome with the sudden urge to hold her, you wrapped your arms around her waist and mushed your cheek against hers. Dina let out a little giggle, leaning into you as well.

“Well hello to you too, (y/n).” There was amusement in her voice as she took in your sleepy form. You sagged against her with a huff before smiling.

“Morning, Dina.” You let go of Dina and turned around, coming face to face with your girl Ellie.

A pout formed on her face when your eyes met hers. “Damn! I was trying to scare you.” Auburn hair fell in front of her eyes as she deflated dramatically. You laughed, allowing Ellie to pull you into her as an apology.

“I’m sorry, babe. You gotta be quicker than that.” You said into her neck, kissing her on the cheek. She tickled your sides a bit before leaning on the counter, although she never let you go.

“Ellie and I were about to come and check your pulse.” Dina joked, bringing three plates of pancakes towards the kitchen island before continuing, “What time did you come in last night?” You scratched your cheek, digging through hazy memories.

“I didn’t leave the office until 12 because I was checking Annie’s manuscript for her.” You didn’t miss Dina’s scowl or the way Ellie’s grip got a little bit tighter. Whether it was from the mention of Annie or the fact that you got off so late, you didn’t know. “So I didn’t go to bed till 1:30-ish.”

“Annie’s always asking something from you. I don’t know why you keep indulging her.” Dina said with a roll of her eyes. Ah so it was the former.

“She’s just busy, Dina.” You tried to defend your friend, but no matter what you could or would say, she was no good in their eyes.

“And so are you, babe.” Ellie piped up. “You have your own work to do, and the longer your fixing everybody else’s mistakes and yours, the longer you’re away from us.” Ellie let go of you, grabbing utensils from a drawer and sitting two chairs away from Dina, leaving the middle open for you, like always. “All we’re saying, babe, is that you’re too nice.” You furrowed your eyebrows at the statement.

“Me being ‘too nice’ got you two a girlfriend so I don’t understand what’s the issue.” You quipped. Ellie held her hands up in defense, shrugging you off. You sat in between them, Dina wrapping her arm around your shoulder once you were comfortable.

“Ok, baby. We’re sorry. Just make sure you get enough rest today, hm?” You nodded, your good mood returning once your girls planted a kiss on your cheeks.

Once you all were done eating, Dina spoke again. “Ellie and I are gonna be out pretty late tonight,” she said while you were collecting everyone’s plates, “but Ellie should be back earlier than me. Do you think you can handle dinner tonight.” Dina asked you. You looked down at the plates, frowning a bit as you put them into the sink.

Your change in demeanor wasn’t lost on the pair, who looked at you in worry once your attention wasn’t on them.

Ellie spoke up, “I got it, Dina. I shouldn’t be too long anyways.” Dina nodded, sparing you one last glance before getting up from her seat.

“Wish me luck you two. Jesse’s hounding me about turning in these pictures on time even though I only have half of them ready.” Dina said playfully, kissing Ellie before walking up to you and kissing you on your temple. You gave her a small smile and started to wash the dishes, the jingle of Dina’s keys ringing in your ears as she left. Usually Dina and Ellie would drive to work together, but you told Ellie she could have your car since you weren’t going anywhere.

Once the door to the apartment closed shut, Ellie stood up and walked over to you, grabbing a dry rag from the stove and going to dry the clean, wet dishes. Ellie opened her mouth to speak, but hesistated on her words. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” You spoke low, and Ellie could tell you were becoming uncomfortable.

“When Dina asked you about dinner you kinda… I don’t know… froze up.” You turned off the water, handing coming up to brush the hair out of your face. You didn’t answer her. Ellie continued. “And it’s not the first time it happened. You do the same thing when we ask you about –“ Ellie stopped mid-sentence, watching as you gripped the edges of the sink and your palms turned white.

“It’s nothing, Ellie.” You said curtly, effectively ending the subject. “I’m fine.” You whispered, moving to walk away from her. Ellie grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you back towards her, in the same position as earlier. She started to sway the both of you side to side.

“Look, I’m sorry ok. I just wanted to see if you were alright… We just notice things sometimes and I hope you’ll be able to talk with us about it in the future.” Ellie kissed you on the cheek, letting you go and walking around you. “I’ll be back soon, ok? Get some rest, baby.” Ellie ordered, calling out a quick I love you, as she walked out the door.

Letting out a sigh, you rubbed your right temple and walked out to the living room, deciding to listen to Ellie and relax for a bit. Sitting on the couch, you practically buried yourself into one of the corners and brought your knees to your chest, curling yourself into a ball and grabbing a cover left there from the previous night to put over you. You turned on the TV, hoping to find something to watch and occupy your time. You soon found yourself, however, flipping through all of the channels, realizing that all of the sounds started to blend into one monotonous tone, letting your focus slip away from the screen.

After a third look through the channels and a trip through Netflix’s entire catalogue, you decided to shut off the TV and try reading. There were always series that you always wanted to check out but were too busy with work to start. So you grabbed the first book you laid eyes on in the bookshelf next to the TV, sat down in the same spot as before, and opened the book to the first page. As you went through the pages, you realized that you were looking at the words, but weren’t registering a thing, causing you to reread the pages again and again, but to no avail. Something in the back of your mind told you to stop this. Stop this and find something useful to do. So you did.

You shut the book with a huff and neatly placed it back where you found it, just like you were always taught to do. You looked around, eyes trying to spot something to do to occupy yourself. They landed on a basket of laundry in the hallway, small, but enough to last for thirty minutes or so. You grabbed it and sat on the couch, taking your time in making sure the corners were perfectly aligned, and there wasn’t a wrinkle shown. This process, when not completed properly, activated this deeply instilled instinct to start the entire basket over and over, unfolding the clothes and folding them again and again. Once you were done and your fingers were numb, you put the folded clothes back into the basket and dragged it to your bedroom to put them into the dressers.

Once you were done with laundry, you tried to find something to silence the voice in the back of your mind that was telling you to find something to do. You looked around your bedroom, trying to find any little thing out of place. You picked up the pants that you stepped on earlier, replaced dirty cloths and towels with clean ones, cleaned the tub and the toilet and the bathroom sink, and even made the bed three times over. And as you stared at your newly made bed, you felt the urge to sleep again compelling you. But that little voice in the back of your head told you that sleep wasn’t necessary, that you need to do something useful.

So you continued cleaning. You cleaned dust that wasn’t there. You organized books that looked fine from the outside. You picked up little papers that no one would notice and swept imaginary dirt off the floor. You even wiped the tables and walls and organized your pantries. And no matter how much you cleaned, you told yourself that it wasn’t enough, that you were just–

Wait… why did this feel so familiar?

You scratched the back of your head, trying to figure out why you felt like you’ve done this before. Were you always this… picky?

No, you weren’t. But something must’ve happened to make you feel like you weren’t doing anything right, and that everything had to be perfect. You chewed on your nail and walked back to the kitchen, ignoring the voice screaming at you to get back to work. Eyes darted all over, landing on the clock that read 5:30. Damn, you said to yourself, how long was I cleaning for?

“Ok, (y/n). I know you can find something to do. Anything.” You muttered, catching yourself before you can start biting your nails again. You looked at the fridge and froze. “I could always make dinner…” You tried to tell yourself, but your body wouldn’t move. “Come on, (y/n). Try and be a good girlfriend for once.” You willed your body to move, your need to be considerate after your girlfriends worked hard overpowering the fear of doing something wrong. You opened the fridge, peering inside to see what you could make. You decided to make some beef stew, finding it such a simple task that even you couldn’t possibly mess this up.

Getting out the meat, some carrots, onions, potatoes and peas, you cleaned the meat first, washed the sink thoroughly afterwards, and cleaned the vegetables after that. You spent about five minutes deciding what pans to bring out and use, and after gaining your confidence again and deciding, you sautéed the beef in some oil first, then added some seasoning to the beef, put water and beef broth in a larger pot before putting the beef in the pot.

Ok, you told yourself, the first and hardest part is over. Now all you needed to do was just put the stove on medium and leave it for the next hour or so.

Your nerves were calming down just a bit as you walked back into the living room, fidgeting in place as you sat down on the couch. The serenity didn’t last long, however, as you began to feel like something was nagging at you. Goodness gracious, you had never been this on edge before.

Well… that’s not true, you retracted.

Truth is, the only time you ever got this worked up was when a family member visited you, and it always got worse when your mother graced you with her presence. But that’s absurd! Your mother was across town, too busy with her own things to ever visit you. Hell, you didn’t even know if your mother even remembered where you lived, not like you were complaining. A part of you hoped that she did forget. You chewed on the pad of your thumb absentmindedly, a habit you’d thought you kicked after leaving for college, nervous.

You’re fine, you tried to reason with yourself, you’re ok. She’s not even near you. She’s probably at home, watching the news or chastising someone on the tiniest things and you’re probably just overreact–

There was a knock at the door.

You had never snapped your head up so fast before, eyes wide and thumb starting to bleed. The knocking continued, more frequent this time. You peeked at the door from your place on the couch, fear locking your body in place.

It’s probably just the mail, you told yourself.

“(Y/n)? I know you’re in there!” It was not. Every nerve in your body felt like it had been broken and set on fire, body burning incredibly hot and going numb at the same time.

“No, no, no, no, no! Why is she here?” You whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself in a feeble attempt to hide from the newcomer. The knocking continued despite your efforts.

“(Y/n)!” You jumped at the change in tone, an all too familiar one that caused you to get up from the couch and walk to the door despite everything telling you not to. Your breath hitched at the click of the door as you turned the lock, opening it to reveal your mother standing there, smiling.

You finally found your voice after a few seconds, stuttering out a, “Hi…Hi, mama. What’re you doing he–” You were cut off by the burning gaze of your mother. You stepped to the side without another word, absentmindedly straightening your shirt and fixing your hair.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to leave guests waiting so long? I thought I raised you better than that.” You bowed your head at the scolding, muttering out a small apology.

“H-How’d you find me, mama?” You didn’t mean for it to sound like that, you really didn’t, but you knew it was too late to take it back.

“Your sister told me you had today off so I thought I’d stop by.” Her hair swished as she set her sights on different things in your home, allowing herself to walk into your living room and sit down on the couch. You followed her, hoping that everything was to her liking. Your mother crossed her legs as she sat, and you mirrored her, sitting on the other end of the couch. “When was the last time you vacuumed the floor?” Your mother stared down with a frown as she lifted her foot up to look at imaginary dirt. You didn’t bother giving her an answer, knowing that now that she’s started, she won’t stop finding things to nitpick.

You tried to change the subject. “I… I appreciate you visiting, mama. Would you like something to drink?” You stood as soon as she said yes, feeling uncomfortable with how quickly her eyes settled on your entire form.

“Hold on now.” Her words stopped you from moving to the kitchen. “It’s almost six and you’re still in your nightclothes. You should know better by now.”

You bowed your head once again, wanting so badly to go back to biting your thumb and cry. “I-I wasn’t expecting anybody, mama. I–”

She didn’t let you finish, saying, “Why don’t you wear that dress I sent you last month. Oh that would look so pretty on you!” You fidgeted with your shirt once again, wiping your sweaty hand on the back of your shorts.

“I can’t fit that mama. It’s too… small…” You whispered the last word and hoped that she wouldn’t hear you, but she did. Your mother let out a scoff, rolling her eyes and dismissing you with a wave of her hand.

“Goodness gracious, (y/n)! I just bought you that dress and you’ve already gained weight? Maybe you need to cut down a bit, yeah? You’ve always had a problem with eating all day.” You just nodded, turning and walking into the kitchen to fix her some water. As soon as the door shut behind you, you placed your head in your hands and let out a shaky breath, heart beating fast and a ringing in your ears. You wanted to curl up and cry like a fucking baby.

Was this a punishment of some sorts? Have you done something wrong lately and this was just a fucked up attempt to get you back for it? What the hell did you do to deserve this, huh?

Dragging your hands down your face, you wiped your eyes and moved to fix your mother a cup of water. Unfortunately, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking as you fixed it, and you had to set the cup on the counter and take a breather. Ok, you told yourself, breathe. You can make it through this. She’ll be here for at most an hour, right? By that time Ellie and Dina would be home and–

But they’re working late today…

Your heart dropped at the fact, foot tapping on the ground as you tried to find a way out of this. If they’re working late you don’t have an excuse to make her leave, meaning she could torment you for hours on end, judging and nitpicking every little thing you do. You considered calling them, but the voice in your mind told you that you were pathetic for not being able to take care of your problems on your own.

It’s just your mother after all.

You didn’t register that your mother was coming until the kitchen door opened, and you straightened yourself before grabbing the cup of water off of the counter.

“What’re you cooking?” Your mother asked, peering into the covered pot on the stove.

“B-Beef stew.” You stuttered as she took the lid off the pot and looked inside.

“You don’t even have any celery in here.” She said as she closed the pot. “And are you sure you put enough seasoning in there? Your stew has no scent to it. No one wants bland stew, (y/n).” She looked around again, trying to find something to pick on.

“Ellie doesn’t like celery, mama…” You mentioned, although you could’ve sworn you didn’t say anything at all, as the woman had no reaction to your statement.

“Make sure you wipe off this counter. You’ve been at home all day and yet your house still looks a mess. Just lazy…” Your mother shook her head as she grabbed the cup from your grip and walked out of the kitchen. You watched as the door slammed behind her, a lump in your throat and your body tingling all over. Your nose made an ugly sound as you sniffed, grabbing a rag off the counter and vigorously wiping it. Your eyes darted to the now boiling stew on the stove, all your fears from earlier resurfacing.

What if you weren’t doing this correctly? What if Ellie and Dina didn’t like the food? Would they chastise you for wasting ingredients on something so horrible? Will they think of you as ungrateful for this? For knowing that they worked long hours every day only for you to treat them like this? If they think your cooking is terrible, who knows what else they think you do wrong. Maybe they don’t like the way you talk or dress or carry yourself or the dates you bring them on. Maybe they don’t like the way that you love them. Did they think that you loved them at all if your love was so horrible?

Did they love you?

That question caused you to shake. You didn’t notice your breathing picking up speed as you dwelled on the question more and more. You could feel the panic set in and you tried to find something to focus on. You tried focusing on the ticking of the clock, your foot tapping against the floor, the steam coming out of the pot. Something, anything to bring you back down to Earth.

“(Y/n)! What’s taking you so long?” Your mother’s voice snapped you out of your panic, although momentarily. In a pathetic display of sadness, your lip started quivering and you let out a whine, not wanting to go back into the living room and let her judge you again. You tried to speak, tried to say something to stall her for a few seconds, but nothing came out. You found yourself wiping your eyes, your feet dragging across the floor into the living room, your body willing itself to move despite your mind’s screams of protests. You peeked your head around the corner, not meeting your mother’s eyes.

“Yes, mama?” God your voice was awful.

“Come sit down.” It was an order, not a suggestion, that much you knew. Your mother wasted no time in speaking again as soon as you set down. “Do you remember that neighbor we had when you were in middle school? Mr. Allen?” You remembered, yes. The man was around your aunt’s age, older than your mother with grey hair and a pot belly. He lived several states away though. Your mother started up again before you could respond. “Well his son, Will, is looking to move up here in the Fall, and I told him you’d be happy to show him around the city when he comes up in a couple of weeks.” Your eyes widened as you stared at her.

“Mama I don’t even know Will like that. I can’t show him around–”

“Nonsense, (y/n)! You two were always hanging out and playing together. I’m sure he’ll love to see you.”

“Mama–”

“And since that dress I bought you doesn’t fit I’ll buy you a new one. And you’ll also have to get your hair done. You look like you haven’t washed it in weeks.” She took a strand of your hair in between her fingertips and pulled. Your head moved even if she didn’t use much force.

“Mama, please. I don’t wanna–”

“Shut up, will you. You’re a grown woman and I think it’s time you settle down already. Will is a nice man and you should be happy he wants to go out with you.”

You pulled away from her, tears pooling up in your eyes. “Mama, I’m already in a relationship and you know that!” She grabbed and pulled on your hair again. Her eyes narrowed at you, and suddenly you were a child again, being stared down by her as she scolded you for something, anything.

“Stop complaining, dammit. This is happening whether you like it or not. And I expect you to be on your best behavior.” Another pull of your hair, less forceful this time, but enough to get the message across. She let you go and stood up, wiping imaginary dirt off of her skirt. “I’ll give him your number later. I expect you to answer him.” And with that your mother was gone, door slamming behind her. You were left on the couch, scalp stinging and a ringing in your ears.

You thought you had escaped this. Escaped from her. Is this really how your life was going to go? You would get a tiny sliver of freedom and happiness and it would be taken away from you every time your mother finds you again? Would you able to even call your life yours?

You didn’t notice you weren’t breathing until you found yourself choking back a sob, hunching over as you tried so hard not to throw up. Soon you were crying, tears falling down your lap as you wrapped your arms around yourself for comfort. You don’t know how long you sat there crying, cradling yourself like a sick baby. You even missed the whistling of the pot of beef stew in the kitchen and the turn of the door knob that came later.

“Babe, why is the door unlocked?” It was Ellie. Her voice was faint and you didn’t even register her presence.

Ellie’s eyebrows furrowed together when she didn’t get a response. She shut the door behind her, locking it afterwards. She was sure she locked the door this morning. Did (y/n) go out earlier and forget? Ellie placed her keys on the hook by the door and kicked her shoes off. “Babe?” She called out again, walking to the living room. She was met with your shaking form, cradling yourself and mouth screwed shut in an attempt to silence your cries. Ellie ran to you and grabbed you by the shoulders, sadness and confusion in her eyes as you recoiled from her touch. Ellie crouched in front of you, not knowing what to do with her hands. “(Y/n), baby, what’s wrong? What happened to you?” Your head snapped up once you registered her voice, tears streaming down your face.

You pulled Ellie down by her shoulders and wrapped your arms around her, practically screaming, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” like a mantra. Ellie didn’t know what you were apologizing for, and she was certain you didn’t know either. Ellie reluctantly wrapped her arms around you, allowing you to plant your face in the crook of her neck. “I tried, I tried to, I tried–” You stammered, grip on Ellie getting tighter and tighter.

“(Y/n), what happened to you?” Ellie pulled you away from her and cradled your face in her hands.

“I tried to–…I tried to do right, I really did but I couldn’t stop her I’m so sorry.” Your words slurred together as Ellie wiped your face with her thumbs.

Ellie couldn’t tell who you were talking about but tried to calm you down as best as she could.

“Baby, take deep breaths, ok. Can you do that for me?” You shook your head no, another sob leaving your mouth. “Please try at least. Please.” You let out a shaky breath, gripping Ellie’s shirt in your hands. “Ok, that’s a start. Now breathe in. Just a little bit, ok?” You followed her instructions as best as you could, throat making a weird sound as you inhaled. Ellie continued to wipe the tears from your eyes, as you repeated the steps until your breathing was in sync. “Ok, that’s good, (y/n). You’re doing so good.” The worry never left Ellie’s eyes. She was about to say something else when the whistling of the pot on the stove grabbed her attention. “I’m gonna be right back, ok.” You didn’t acknowledge her speaking as your eyes glazed over, staring right past her.

Ellie walked briskly to the kitchen and peeked inside, seeing a pot with the lid slightly ajar, steam rushing out of the opening after who-knows-how-long of being unchecked. Ellie grabbed a few rags off the side of the counter and moved the pot to a different stovetop, turning the stove off afterwards. She returned to you and sat next to you on the couch. She called your name a few times, but you didn’t answer her, not until she shook your shoulder and squeezed your arm a bit. Your head snapped up, and Ellie swore she could see fear in your eyes. “Did you forget that you had something on the stove? It’s not like you to forget something like–” Ellie stopped speaking as you burst into tears again, apologizing over and over again, for the food, for the house, for yourself even. Ellie didn’t know why you were apologizing, but she wrapped her arms around you anyways for comfort that you so desperately needed. God, Ellie didn’t know what to say, or really what to do at this moment. She felt useless for that.

“Baby, I’m gonna call Dina, ok?” You only continued to cry, tears staining Ellie’s paint-covered shirt. Ellie reached into her pocket for her phone, finding Dina’s contact and tapped her foot as she waited for Dina to pick up. Dina answered on the third ring, sounding exhausted after a long day.

“Hey, Ellie–” Ellie didn’t give her time to speak.

“It’s (y/n), Dina. She’s freaking out and I need you to come home. Now.” Ellie placed her free hand under your shirt, finding your skin to be burning up as she rubbed your back.

“Freaking out? What happened?” Ellie could hear the shuffling of papers as Dina collected herself.

“I-I don’t know. She can barely get a word out without crying, and she had left the door unlocked and something on the stove and–” Ellie caught herself rambling and took a breath. “Every time I try and ask her about it she breaks down again and I don’t know what to do. Just… come home, please.”

“Give me 15 minutes, ok.” Dina’s voice was muffled a bit as she yelled to Jesse about an emergency. Ellie hung up soon thereafter, dropping her phone on the couch and cradling you in her arms. She started humming a song that you had always liked, hoping it would calm you down a bit. You cries soon turned into whimpers, and she lets you wipe your tears on her shirt. Ellie spoke up after a few more minutes.

“(Y/n)?” You hummed, sniffling and unable to speak. “Let’s go lay down, ok. Dina’s going to be home soon.” You could only nod. Ellie got up and pulled you up with her, leading you to your bedroom. Ellie laid down near the wall, opening her arms for you. You crawled into her arms, burying your face into her neck. Ellie continued to hum that song, her mind coming up with a million scenarios as to what could’ve happened. She wanted to ask you so badly, but she didn’t want to say the wrong thing and cause you to cry again. She wasn’t good with words, that was more of Dina’s specialty. But she hated seeing you cry. She hated seeing you sad at all. Your smile was the best thing to her, to Dina as well. And to see your smile go away because of… because of something, pissed Ellie off.

A few minutes later, Ellie registered the squeaking of the bedroom door as it opened and shut. Looking up, Ellie met Dina’s gaze as she carefully walked over to the bed and sat down beside you. Ellie could see the hesitation on Dina’s face as she raised a hand to touch you. Ellie gave her a little nod when Dina’s eyes met hers again, and felt you flinch when Dina placed her fingers on the nape of your neck, an action that you had usually found comforting.

“It’s just me, honey.” Dina tried to hide the hurt in her voice at your rejection of her touch. Dina placed her free hand on your shoulder and turned you on your back. Dina’s heart shattered at the utter helplessness on your face. You looked so… broken, and Dina prayed that she would be able to fix it. “Baby… baby what’s wrong?” Dina talked slowly and softly, rubbing your temple with her thumb. Goodness, your skin burned. You didn’t speak yet, only letting a few tears out of your eyes. Ellie and Dina quickly wiped them away. “Take your time, sweetheart.” Dina added, taking a hand in yours. Ellie placed her hand over Dina’s. The shared contact was comforting.

“I… I–” You took a deep breath, closing your red eyes. “I’m sorry…” You finally whispered. Dina furrowed her eyebrows, a frown forming on her face.

“What for, hun?” Dina spoke again. You opened your eyes but didn’t look at them, keeping your gaze on the ceiling.

“For me.” They had almost missed it. You had said it so quietly. Ellie was about to protest, Dina could sense it. Dina shot her a look, not wanting her to scare you into another outburst. Ellie pursed her lips, grip on Dina and your hands tightening just a bit. You continued speaking after a bit of silence. “I wish I could do better for you guys.” They could see the tears well up in your eyes again.

“What brought this on, (y/n)?” It was Ellie who spoke this time. There was a tinge of anger in her voice.

“My mother.” You had finally let out, blinking your tears away. “She, she came over and–” You looked at Dina. “She found me, and I don’t know how. I really, really don’t.” You sounded like a child who’s about to break down. “And I–I… she told me that I had to um, I had to go out with this old neighbor of mine and I felt like a child again because she made me question myself and doubt everything I do again and I couldn’t do anything to stop her and–” You were talking quickly through tears and a cracking voice, free hand gripping the sheets below you. “I’m so sorry I can’t be a better girlfriend for you. I’m so awful. I couldn’t even make dinner because I was so caught up in everything! And I know how hard you both work and yet I–” You took a deep breath as your tears blurred your vision. “I can’t even make a simple fucking meal and I couldn’t even say no to my fucking mama.” You said the word with such contempt despite your crying, and you turned and buried your face in Ellie’s chest. Probably to hide yourself from the world. You were crying again, and your girls quickly wrapped their arms around you for comfort. Both of their grips tightened on you, angry at the woman for making you feel so broken, angry at the world for being so cruel to you.

“My sweet, sweet girl.” Dina cooed, rubbing her nose into your cheek. “You aren’t awful, or a bad girlfriend. You’re the best thing that could’ve ever happened to us. Whatever that, that woman,” Dina wanted to call her much, much worse, “said or did to make you feel this way will never, ever be true, and I promise you that I will never let her speak to you or even come near you ever again.”

“Besides, I’ll burn this whole world down before I let some stranger or that bitch touch you again.” Ellie did not give her that same generosity. Ellie removed your face from her chest and gently wiped your tears away. Dina placed her hand on the back of your neck and gently scratched your nape. “Do you believe that?” Ellie asked softly. You nodded, although with some hesitation.

“We’re so sorry that we weren’t here for you when you needed us, baby.” Dina said as she turned you on your back. Her hand danced across your stomach to grab at your waist. “I promise you, baby, we won’t let anyone hurt you again, ever.” Your girl said it with such conviction and her eyes held so much love for you. It overwhelmed you and you could only nod once again.

“Th–Thank you. The both of you… I’m sorry I worried you–”

“You don’t have to apologize, (y/n).” Ellie interrupted, tracing patterns on your jaw.

“I know, but I never told you about her because,” you paused, and they waited patiently, “she’s a part of my life that I tried to forget, and with her everything had to be so perfect, and in the long run it just wasn’t good for me, you know?” You rubbed at your left eye in an attempt to prevent more tears from flowing. Ah, it’s clicking now. Why you were so adamant about making dinner earlier. Why you could be so worried about every chore you did or constantly doubted yourself over the simplest things.

After so long of picking up the pieces of your broken childhood, your mother had tipped you over and shattered every piece of resolve you had.

Your girls swore to put you back together again.

“Baby, we won’t ever put you through something like that again, ok? You don’t have to worry about us nitpicking at every little thing you do because it doesn’t matter.” Ellie told you. She rubbed her thumb in circles right below your ear, helping you unclench your jaw.

“If you’re ever uncomfortable with doing something just tell us. We won’t be mad or upset at you for not wanting to do something, because we love you. Something as simple as not making dinner won’t change that.” Dina kissed you on your forehead, giving you a small smile. “You believe that right, that we love you?”

For a moment your doubts from earlier arose, but seeing no type of contemp from them towards you pushed those thoughts away.

“Yeah, I believe it.” If possible they smiled even wider, peppering kisses all over you until you let out a laugh, giving them a shove until they settled beside you.

You felt secure in their embrace, knowing that they would do everything in their power to protect you, and would kill someone before letting anyone hurt you.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[thebonggirll]

chapter three

< previous: chapter two

Jongwoo left a bit of dust on his laptop before shutting it down and leaving. The last time he opened his laptop, it was already on. He was sure to turn it off before leaving the day before. As a last resort, he decided to take the matters into his own hands and get some evidence himself. The pervert in the residence probably turned it on, but there was no proof. He took pictures of the dust on his laptop and a few more pictures of his room and left for work.

As he was walking back after a long, tiring day of work, his mind went back to it. The senior in his work was of no help and took every chance to belittle him.

Once he even thought of breaking the keyboard on his head in order to shut him up.

But violence shouldn’t be an option, right?

Walking down the road, he heard some familiar voices and looked to the road turning to the right. The twins appeared to be dragging something heavy – something wrapped in a huge sack. Jongwoo slowly crawled and hid behind a wall, observing them. It felt like something insignificant to him. Well, he should really be minding his own business instead of spying on two dumb twins.

As he got up to leave, he heard the sound of glass sliding down. Quick on his actions, he turned back and picked up the empty beer bottle that was sliding down from the garbage bags kept nearby. He didn’t want to get caught. It was too much of a hassle.

“What are you looking at?”

Another familiar voice behind him broke the anxiety bubbling inside of him.

“They’re the twins,” Moonjo said, staring at the direction Jongwoo was looking at before.

“I just saw them while passing by,” Jongwoo said.

“Mr. Byun,” Moonjo called out, walking towards the twins, “What are you doing here?”

“Ms. Um told us to take out the garbage,” one of the twins answered.

“We help her out instead of paying rent,” the other twin explained.

“I see. I thought you were throwing out a dead body or something,” Moonjo turned back to look at Jongwoo, “Isn’t that so?”

“What?” Jongwoo asked. He was hoping he wouldn’t mention him to the twins. The sense of comfort that came to him even for a little bit, disappeared completely when Moonjo called him out.

“Oh, a little,” Jongwoo said and walked slowly towards them. Moonjo found the sight quite adorable, noticing how big Jongwoo’s eyes were out of curiosity.

“Why are you throwing out the garbage here?” Moonjo asked. He just needed to ask the twins questions that his subject felt curious about until he was confident enough to ask it himself. He was already taking the right steps to make the perfect gift for his masterpiece. He was sure it would be complete after some time. The gangster in the residence very generously helped him progress with his work by offering his teeth.  

“Ms. Um told us to throw it out where there aren’t any cameras around,” the slightly normal twin answered.

“But that black stain. What’s that? It looks like blood,” Moonjo said. Sure, it was for his subject. But it was more important to make these duffers realize the mistake they made. How stupid it was of them to do something like this out in the open. And going by the look on their faces, they probably pissed their pants by now.

“It’s the water that came out from food. Filthy water came out,” the twin answered, giggling.

“Goodness, she doesn’t separate regular garbage from food garbage?” He turned to look at Jongwoo’s face, “It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?”

“Well…” Jongwoo went silent after the word. He was still thinking about it. He wanted to make sure.

“Okay, I’ll talk to Ms. Um and-”

“You can just open it. Can’t we open it, and see?” Jongwoo interrupted Moonjo before he completed his sentence, “Let’s just see what’s inside so that we wouldn’t get the wrong idea.”

And there it was. Just what he was waiting for. He didn’t know Jongwoo would be so fast. A small smile slowly crept up to his face as he watched his subject- no, jagiya, feeling impressed. “The man from room 303 is right. Open it,” he said turning to the twins.

Moonjo watched as Jongwoo cut the rope tied around the sack. He felt curious about his reaction. So far, Jongwoo was predictable but still made him feel excited instead of bored. He wanted to know how he would react to seeing what’s inside the sack. Would he as an author of a crime novel react as most humans would?

He did.

Well, it’s okay. Jongwoo didn’t realize his talent yet. All he needed was a bit of his help and he would become the perfect artwork.

“Mr. Byun you can’t throw dead cats out here,” Moonjo said checking inside the sack. Jongwoo looked out of breath as he stared at the little bit of blood smeared on his fingers.

The twins tried to explain the cause of its death but he wasn’t interested. He needed to make sure jagiya was alright. He walked towards him and asked, “Are you alright?”

Jongwoo stumbled on his feet and walked past him saying, “Goodness, I’m leaving.”

“Wait for me,” Moonjo said, a small smirk on his face.

As they walked towards the residence, Jongwoo still had the same startled expression on his face. He probably didn’t realize how long Moonjo was staring at him. He felt good to know there was still an atmosphere of comfort when it was just the two of them. Knowing the time of his return, Jongwoo probably didn’t get to see his girlfriend.

He can’t miss this chance to spend some more time with him.  “You must’ve been shocked,” Moonjo said.

“No. No, I’m fine,” Jongwoo said.

Oh, but it was obvious he found it weird how Moonjo wasn’t scared. He can make it easy for him to understand. “My father is a vet, so I’m used to seeing dead animals.” He said, “I guess you didn’t get to see your girlfriend today.”

“No,” Jongwoo confirmed.

“Do you want to go in and grab some refreshing beer?” Moonjo asked. Surely, jagiya won’t turn him down today. “It gets lonely to be in the room all alone after a long day. Don’t you feel that way too?”

Jongwoo nodded his head like an obedient child. Just then, hearing the sound of bikes speeding up behind them, he looked behind, and before he could brace himself, he fell down.

The vehicles went away as they turned to another road, loud screams of drunk bikers came to his ears. He felt a hard surface on his back and looked behind.

Gasping, he quickly got up. “Ah, I’m sorry and uh..” he offered his hand to Moonjo and helped him get up, “thank you.”

Moonjo just smiled politely in return. Although, his happiness reached a new level inside. It was thrilling to watch the scene unfold as he expected. Of course, he waited the last moment to pull Jongwoo towards himself to make him get away from the bikes. He could’ve handled his weight, really, but why waste such a golden opportunity to feel his skin against himself. Jongwoo was built perfectly. His back was hard, and his butt was plump and soft.

Moonjo stared at the man the whole way while strolling towards the residence. Either Jongwoo was too busy thinking about his day, or he was deliberately not meeting his eyes or making any conversation. He could also see how red his jagiya’s ears were out of embarrassment.

It was way more exciting than he anticipated. It was the first time that Moonjo got such a different response than all his previous subjects.

Almost like Jongwoo was trying to suppress the excitement he felt too.

next: chapter four >

forever, jagiya.

MASTERLIST