#for better or worse i’ve never been able to pull up a memory more than a couple of years old with zero cringe about it. regardless of what

[shabbytigers]

tfw someone reblogs something i reblogged several months or years ago and it pops up in my notes all surprise bitch 🫥 i get that tumblr puts algorithmically generated ‘more like this?’ suggestions under posts you click into nowadays, so probably nobody is deliberately spelunking my archive in a mariana trench ready diving bell, and what if they were? knock yourself out, lmao. it’s just exhausting to contemplate.

[wsoc-gay]

World Cup Results II

Part 1

Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: The beginning of Ona's Pregnancy

A/N: At least one more part to this of the pregnancy, might continue it after the baby too. But if anyone has a request please feel free to put it in my asks! I work much better and faster with ideas. I'm open to writing anything, smut, fluff, angst, kid fics, just let me know what you want to read!

You and Ona couldn’t be more excited on the drive home from the clinic. Neither of you could wipe the smiles off your faces as your hands were held together and rested in your girlfriend’s lap. The entire ride home was full of loving sentiments exchanged to one another and plenty of blushes being spread across faces. 

Arriving home began your new train in following the advice from the doctor as closely as possible as well as going a bit overboard. Your girlfriend was starting to get annoyed with you, but even she would admit it was sweet how caring you were. Ona never opened her car door, never lifted anything too heavy, didn’t carry her bags to training, and you hardly let her do household chores. Every night for dinner you cooked a meal full of all the proper nutrients the doctors had advised eating and made sure to buy Ona only the best prenatal vitamins.

You both had agreed to not tell your teammates until you reached the 15-week mark, until then Ona didn’t have to alter her trainings and could still play in games. You had let the coaching staff and medical staff know as soon as you found out so they could monitor the Spaniard closer, but as of now you wanted to keep it on a need-to-know basis.  

It was around the 8-week mark, right after the first ultrasound, that some of your teammates began to catch on that something was happening. Any slight bump or tackle Ona took during training led to you sprinting to be by her side checking up on her. The brunette found it sweet but needed you to let up a little bit before they had to tell your team sooner than expected. 

Your worries weren’t without their reason, the chance of miscarriage was drastically higher through IVF and until Ona was outside her first trimester you had every right to worry. The days leading up to your 8-week scan were some of the most stressful days in your recent memory. You and Ona both were worried sick about having the scan show that you had lost your baby.

Ona was more stressed than you were due to her late-night research of her symptoms which often times resulted in her reading many horror stories of parents going to the first ultrasound and finding no heartbeat. The internet on top of her raging hormones led to many tearful nights where you tried to alleviate her fears but knew that the only thing to help the brunette’s anxiety would be seeing your baby. 

Thankfully one day after training the two of you were able to go to the clinic for the scan and see your baby for the first time. Tears immediately came to both of your eyes as the doctor told you your baby was not only alive, but healthy and thriving inside your girlfriend. You weren’t one to cry, but Ona made a comment that she thinks you’ll be a mess at every ultrasound, and you couldn’t help, but agree. There was something about seeing your baby on that screen that made everything seem more real. Therefore, the attentiveness only got worse.

Your English teammates were the first to confront you about your recent behavior. The pair was sat alone at a table during lunch when Lucy pulled you into a seat, “What’s wrong with you?”

You gave the older woman a confused look, “What the hell do you mean?”

Kiera slapped Lucy’s arm and muttered something you couldn’t quite make out under her breath. She looked over to you, “What Lucy meant to say,” She sent the brunette defender a glare, “Is that you’ve been acting a bit different during training recently.”

You truly hadn’t caught onto what they were referring to yet and raised an eyebrow at the pair, “Is this your guy’s subtle way of telling me I’ve been playing badly?”

Lucy slapped the back of your head and groaned, “No you idiot,” You slapped her right back, “Every time someone so much as touches Ona you act like she got shot.” Lucy slapped you again, “And you’re always watching her like a hawk,” You slapped her back.

Kiera grabbed her arm before she could retaliate, “Would you two stop acting like children already.”

This wasn’t surprising behavior for you and the outside back, ever since you arrived at Barcelona the two of you grew much closer. Lucy helped you a lot to settle into the team and lifestyle of Spain, so overtime you grew a lot closer. Hence, why she was one of the first ones to notice a change in your behavior.

You suddenly realized what they were referring too and tried to hide it best you could, “I’m not acting any different, I always worry about her.”

Lucy gave you a dumbfounded look, “Yeah, but this is even pushing it for you,” She began to dramatically mimic you, “Oh my love, Ona, someone leaned on you during our full contact sport, and job, are you sure you’re going to survive this,” She leaned back with an arm laid against her forehead dramatically. 

You started slapping the older brunette again, “Oh shut up, I am not acting like that.”

Kiera sighed and pushed the two of you apart, “Would you two seriously stop it,” she looked at Lucy, “Luce stop being dramatic,” and then turned to face you, “You’re not acting like whatever the hell that display was, but you are acting extra protective over her.”

You ultimately made up some excuse about Ona having reinflamed her ankle and that you wanted to make sure she didn’t seriously injure it again. The pair of English women didn’t seem to believe your excuse, but let you go on your way.

On the ride home you had told you told Ona about the confrontation with Lucy and Kiera which she followed up by agreeing that you needed to tone down the protectiveness and worrying. She had begun to notice it too and believed it was sweet but agreed that it was about to get out of hand and was only a matter of time before more of your teammates began to catch on. 

---

It was a couple weeks later, around the 12-week mark, when Ona was quieter than usual after training. The car ride home was nearly silent, but you didn’t mention it and assumed she was just tired. As the pregnancy progressed Ona was starting to become increasingly more tired throughout the day, so you assumed that alongside the hard training today was the cause for her quietness. 

It wasn’t until a little later when you walked into the living room and found the Spaniard sitting on the couch with her head in her hands that you finally asked, “Is something wrong babe? Are you not feeling well?”

Her head remained in her hands as she softly muttered out, “I need to tell you something.”

You quickly sat down next to her with you hand on her thigh and concern lacing your voice, “Is it the baby? Do we need to call the doctor?”

She quickly sat back and leaned against the couch quickly alleviating your worries, “No, no the baby is fine. It’s just, es posible que accidentalmente le haya contado a Aitana sobre el bebé.” She had rushed out the last sentence in Spanish making it difficult for you to understand.

“Slower, por favor, you know my Spanish isn’t good when you talk fast.”

“I accidentally told Aitana about the baby today,” Feeling increasingly guilty she began to ramble, “I know we didn’t want to tell people about the baby this early, but she cornered me and you know I’m bad at keeping things to myself when someone asks and it just slipped out. I am so sorry mi amor.”

You chuckled at her rambling but let out a sigh of relief knowing this was the cause to Ona’s mood shift and not something more serious. Ona and Aitana had always been close, growing up playing for the academy together and since Ona returned to Barca they became even closer, so part of you was more surprised it took this long for her to find out. The outside back also was known for being bad at keeping secrets. Anytime someone would ask her about something she wasn’t supposed to talk about she would begin rambling making it obvious that she was hiding something and would usually end up saying it anyways.

You dropped back to lean against the couch and moved your hand from her knee onto her, hardly noticeable, bump, “Oh thank god, you had me worried, love.”

Ona covered your hand with hers, “There is nothing to worry about, I’m sorry she found out.”

The outside back when onto explain that Aitana had cornered her in the locker room after training when the rest of the team had already filed out. Instead of the usual comments which were about how protective you had become, Aitana had brought up how happy the two of you had seemed and that you were touchier than usual. She also had picked up on Ona subtly rubbing her stomach and your hand grazing over it after you would hug. She had straight up asked Ona if she was pregnant, and there was no escaping it from there, your girlfriend didn’t know how to lie.

“And you know I can’t lie, amor, she caught me so off guard and I must’ve taken too long to try and come up with an excuse, but she just pulled me into a hug saying how happy she was for us.”

You laughed again, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull the smaller girl into your side, “I’m more surprised you lasted this long without everyone finding out.”

Ona rubbed a hand over her stomach instinctively, “As long as everyone keeps bringing it up to you instead of me, we should be okay, there’s only three weeks until I can’t play in matches anymore and then we’ll have to tell them.”

You looked down to her face as you smoke softly, “We can tell the team now if you want, you’re out of the first trimester, we just saw the baby, and everything is healthy, there’s no big reason to keep it from them anymore.”

“No, no, I like just keeping it to ourselves. Our own little bubble outside of football for now,” she leaned up to connect your lips softly and full of love.

---

Aitana did much better of a job keeping the secret to herself than you originally expected. The midfielder took her job as being the best friend and only teammate who knew very seriously. Anytime your teammates would begin on the topic when she was around, she would quickly shush their comments and would back any lie you made up to cover your secret. 

You and Ona were grateful for her efforts, but in a way, it only increased your other teammates suspicions. You also were now partially convinced much of the team actually already knew what was going on. As the last two weeks have gone by Mapi, Ingrid, and Alexia had completely stopped asking anything about the topic. Originally Mapi had been one of the most vocal players about finding out what was going on, but now had completely stopped in her efforts. 

The truth was Ingrid, being the observant and caring teammate and friend that she was, had picked up on the same signals Aitana had. She obviously told Mapi about her suspicions who then confided in Alexia about them. Therefore, they came up with a plan to get the two of you to admit it to them. 

It was after the last game of the season before the Christmas break that Alexia decided the team would go to a club to celebrate before everyone left to their respective homes. You and Ona were going to see your family in England for the break, so you tried to get the two of you out of going by saying that you had to finish packing before your flight. Alexia wasn’t taking this as an answer and needed the both of you there to try and get an admittance from you, therefore, said it was required team bonding and you had to be there. The original plan was for Alexia and Mapi to call Ona out on not drinking and essentially for her to expose the pregnancy, but this plan was quickly stopped when the two of you entered the bar, keys in Ona’s hands, clearly having drove the two of you there. Anytime she was asked about a drink it was easy for her to say she was driving that night, plus she didn’t have to lie so there was no worries about her slipping up.

Alexia and Mapi were still trying to come up with a new plan when, surprisingly, you were the one to let it slip.

You were sitting at a table with many of your teammates while Ona was dancing with Aitana, Patri, Claudia, and Cata when a guy walked up behind Ona and placed his hands on her hips. You were on your feet and dragging the man off her before she had the chance to pull away.

The man turned around to be face to face with the hands that had just pulled him off the girl he was obviously interested in, “What the fuck do you want?”

You stood tall with your chest puffed and harshly spoke, “I want you to get your hands off my girlfriend.”

He scoffed, “Girlfriend? Sorry bud, I don’t think she’s the girlfriend type.”

You laughed, “Sorry, bud, but I’m the one she’s woken up next to for the past 8 years so I think I might know her a bit better than you.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t see you anywhere until after I came over so looks like I’ve beat you to it.”

“Oh, fuck no,” You tried to shove past him to get to Ona, but he moved to block your path.

“Why don’t you prove it to me then?” By now a decent amount of your teammates had noticed what was going on and began to come over to help deal with the man.

This sent you over the edge, it might’ve partially been at fault to the alcohol you had that night, and you being a little more than drunk already. But with one big push to his shoulder you announced, “I think the fact that she’s pregnant with my baby proves enough,” this left him shocked and gave you enough time to walk over to Ona with your back turned to the man and place a hand on the side of her face, “Are you alright, love?” Most of your teammates were now standing around you with their jaws hanging open clearly in shock.

The man clearly wasn’t over the embarrassment yet, as he pulled your shoulder back to face him and landed a hook across your cheek, you threw one right back getting him across the nose before security was dragging him away just as Lucy was doing the same to you. You looked back to find Ona and saw Alexia standing in front of her having clearly dragged her back and away from you and the man, likely assuming the altercation may escalate and after your confirmation didn’t want the Spaniard anywhere near the potential of a fight.

After clearing some things with the security guards, they let you stay and Lucy was dragging you over to the table many of your teammates had gone to sit at, the rest following close behind you. 

Ona slid into the booth next to you with a bag of ice in her hand, and reaching up with her free hand to grab your chin and turn your head to assess the damage, “Are you okay? You know I hate it when you do that.”

You were waving your arm dramatically, clearly still affected by the alcohol in your system, “He wanted to take you home I was protecting you both.”

She had a soft smile and pressed the bag of ice to your cheek, which you took over holding against your face, “I know you were, but you could’ve gotten hurt a lot worse.”

“I don’t care,” You leaned closer to whisper in her ear, clearly having forgotten you had already spilled your secret, “You’re carrying precious cargo, Baby Mami.”

Ona chuckled and patted your thigh, “No point in whispering now, amor, you already announced it.”

You turned to see the rest of your team giving you both dumbfounded and shocked looks, but Alexia, Aitana, Mapi, and Ingrid just smirking to themselves.

Alexia was the first to speak up from across the table, “So, you two are having a baby?”

You moved your free hand to rest on your girlfriend’s stomach and smiled as Ona replied, “Yep, baby y/l/n-Batlle is due in May. We were going to tell you all after the break, but tonight was my last match for the season, I’m about to be fifteen weeks, so no more matches.”

You were met with a lot of congratulations from your teammates when Lucy finally connected the dots and pointed at you, “So this is why you’ve been so unbearably protective over her recently.”

You defended yourself, “She’s carrying precious cargo, that’s the future best player in the world in there,” You patted her small bump, and the brunette covered your hand with hers.

This caused a smile to breakout on Ona’s face and laughs spread around the table. Ona had decided you had enough to drink, and she was exhausted having played 70 minutes today, so announced that you would be heading home. It took a few minutes before you were finally out the door, having to go through and hug every one of your teammates and being told congratulations by each one of them. 

The next day the two of you flew to England for the first half of break, you would spend Christmas with your family before coming back to Spain to spend the rest with Ona’s family who you saw more often. 

Since the secret was already out to your teammates and your families had already known for weeks while home in England you and Ona were able to tell a few of your England and former Arsenal teammates you were closest with. 

While in London and met up with Leah, Lia, Lotte, Alessia, Beth, and Viv for lunch to share the news with them. Leah was especially moved when you told her, having been much like a big sister to you during your time at Arsenal. She couldn’t get past how grown up you were and that now were having a baby. Alessia did a lot of claiming that this all happened because of her setting you two up. While you’ll go to your grave denying her you can’t help but thank her slightly.

---

Thanks for reading everyone, I hope you enjoyed! Again, please leave any requests or prompts in my asks!

[lovelytsunoda]

crying over it all // clement novalak

summary: there are few things in this world more mortifying than failing your drivers test when everyone else your age has a license. it’s made even worse when your boyfriend is a racing driver

pairing: clement novalak x female reader

warnings: reader fails her driving test, which leads to significant self loathing, clem is just trying to be supportive and god I need someone like him right now

authors note: guess who failed her drivers test 🙃 I’ve rebooked it but now I have to commute by way of three buses to my college campus :( and don't even get me started on field placement...i wish i had never left it this long but at this point i need to trust to process and find some sort of way to move past it.

“I’m sorry, but you will need to retake your road driving test. I understand that’s not what you wanted to hear, but you need some more practice. you can see the full list of mistakes inside.”

it had been twenty minutes since she’s heard those words, and she still felt shaky on her feet. her hands had shook and tears fell down her face as she went inside, taking a number and waiting in a notoriously long dmv line to admit to the woman at the desk that she needed to rebook her test.

she didn’t want clement to see her like this, utterly defeated and trying not to scream her lungs out as she watched four teenagers in line in front of her get their licenses.

she was twenty one, for god sakes. she should have been driving by now.

she was sitting on the wooden bench, slouched I gracefully and letting the tears fall as she played with her car keys when clement found her.

what was the point of even owning a fucking car if she couldn’t drive it?

“oh, love." clem frowned, feeling his own stomach sink when he saw how distraught she was. "i take it that things didn't go well."

"could you tell?" she sobbed, trying to wipe her eyes. "was it that obvious? i hate myself, clement. how is it that i can't do something that pretty much everybody my age has been able to do since they were sixteen."

his heart ached as he heard her words. he'd passed his test on the first try, and he drove things for a living, so he's never really thought about what it must have been like for her, having to bum rides off her friends and family or to be bound to the transit schedule. while she was in college, it hadn't been the biggest deal, although it was a minor inconvenience. now that she would be working full time, the stakes were higher.

"i'm sorry, pretty girl." he frowned, pulling her closer, allowing her rest her head on his shoulder. "but you can take it again, and you know what you did wrong, right?"

"i start work next week, clem. i've looked up the commute and if i take public transit, it's almost two hours each way. and i feel like i'm a burden by constantly asking people for rides, or telling them that if they can't pick me up, we can't hang out. hell, my mother had to drive to my first date with you!"

clem chuckled at the memory, the image of a frazzled y/n stepping out of her mother's suv and frantically scanning the parking lot for clement. moments later, her mother had insisted to getting out of the car and introducing herself to clem. y/n thought that she would combust then and there.

"your mother loves me!"

"yeah, but imagine being a grown-ass adult and still having to get your mother to drive you to appointments because you don;t want to chance the bus route not aligning with your appointment time? i feel like my grandmother, and she's ninety, clement. she had her license revoked because she has cataracts."

"i know it hurts right now, but you are never a burden, y/n. your friends love having you in the car when they drive. hell, i feel like i drive better when you're next to me. i don't mind driving you places, you know. it means that i get to spend more time with you."

she smiled at the gesture, turning to allow clem to cup her chin and wipe some of her tears away. her face was flushed, eyes red and puffy. she couldn't shake the idea that she might have made a scene inside the testing center.

"i know. i just wish i could be more independent. transiting gives me so much fucking anxiety. i went over the curb when i three=point-turned and an old lady on a mobility scooter started yelling at me."

"but you never go over the curb."

"exactly! i think i was nervous, when i practiced the route with my dad, there were never any cars on the road. and i think after that happened, i got into my head and it screwed everything else up. i'm such a fuck up. i feel like i've let everybody down, especially you, since you helped pay for my fucking car."

'"hey, hey, don;t talk like that. you'll get it. i promise you. you know jenson button didn't pass his road test on his first try, right?"

she snorted, sitting up straighter, but still clutching clem's hand. "did he really?"

"yeah, and i think lando failed as well."

"yeah well, i've seen how lando drives. that doesn't surprise me at all."

having a laugh seemed to help, and at least now if people mwere staring at her it was because of the f2 driver sitting next to her, not because she was a grown woman who still couldn't drive and decided to cry about it, and then fling her keys onto the grass.

"i have some plans i might have to move around, and then i need to call my parents, and then my dad can take me out to practice a bit more but i have to trust that when i take it again in october, something goes right. because i know exactly what i fucked up."

she moved to get up from the bench, clm following closely behind as she shamefacedly handed him the keys to her volkswagen. well, the volkswagen now, since she couldn't drive it without someone who'd had their license for five years present.

"i'm proud of you for trying. i know that this was something you put off for a long time because of your anxiety, and even though it didn't work out, at least you tried." clem encouraged, his arms comfortably slung around her shoulders as she laced her fingers with his. "hey, it could be worse. you could have had your dad drive you here."

"clement, don't even joke!" she laughed. "you know that i hate taking transit, and that i don't always feel safe going places alone."

"i know. and if you ever feel unsafe, or too anxious to function, or just like you want to see my gorgeous face, call me. as long as im in the country, i will come and get you. and if im not, i'll send someone i trust."

"like who? max fewtrell? his driving is worse than landos."

clem snorted. "i meant ria. or pietra.

"thank you, clement." she sighed, leaning into him as he unlocked the car. "i love you."

"i love you more, pretty girl." he kissed the top of her head softly. "it will all work itself out, love. just you wait. and then you'll be the one driving me places."

TAGS:

@httpiastri @magnummagnussen @oconso @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @clemswrld @love4lando

[uvobreakmylegs]

With Greatest Care

Paku my queen❤️

Warnings: manipulation, isolation, mentions of death, brief mention of gore

Word count: 6.4k

A splitting headache in your skull was the first thing you were aware of when you awoke that morning, originating from your forehead and pulsating through your head. When you realized what was happening you groaned and buried your face into your pillow, like that would help in the slightest. This scenario wasn't uncommon, unfortunately.

Although it hadn't been happening quite as often recently, not even a year ago you were waking up to these sorts of migraines almost every other day. It usually meant that you needed to stay in bed for most of the morning as moving around too much would make you feel sick to your stomach and only make your miserable state even worse. As you had been through this many times by now, you knew that having a few painkillers and taking it slow in the morning, you’d be feeling better by afternoon at the latest.

But knowing that this would last for a few hours didn't make you feel any better in that moment. Especially since you and your girlfriend had plans today.

“Paku,” you moaned weakly, “I'm not feeling too....”

You trailed off as you pulled up from the pillow and found the spot next to you on the bed to be empty. Pakunoda was already up. You should have expected that. She got up early in general and would usually let you sleep in to a certain point.

You weren't excited to tell her about this. It brought back memories of when this had started, when you were only a few months into the relationship. So many days where you had woken up feeling like hell and poor Paku ended up being more like a caretaker than a girlfriend, and it made you feel bad that she would work so hard to take care of you and you weren't able to do anything in return.

As much as you felt you should get up so you could tell Paku about your condition, you stopped yourself. The last time this had happened and you went to tell her, you ended up getting up too fast and threw up on the sheets. Pakunoda needed to clean it up and you had never felt more like a burden than you did in that moment.

And as you checked the time, it was getting close to when Paku would come in and get you up if you hadn't done so yourself by then. Better to just wait for her to check on you instead of possibly making another mess that she'd be forced to take care of.

Just as expected, a few minutes went by and you heard the turn of the knob, the bedroom door swinging open and Paku saying your name as she checked if you were awake.

One glance over to her was all she needed to know what was going on.

“Oh no,” she said, “is it happening again?”

You weakly nodded.

“I'm sorry,” you said.

“Why are you apologizing?” Pakunoda asked.

She left the doorway, crossing over to the bed so she could sit next to you. Her hand went to your head and she began to stroke your hair.

“You can't help that you aren't well,” she added, “you'll get through this just like all the other times.”

“I hope so.”

Her hand was still on your head, still petting you. It didn't help with the headache in the slightest, but it helped to make you feel a little bit better.

“I feel like you end up taking care of me a lot,” you said.

“Well, that's part of the deal, isn't it? You don't feel well, so I take care of you. You'd do the same if I was in your position, right?”

“Yeah, but I've never seen you get sick or anything. I think you're the healthiest person I've ever met.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing,” said Paku.

“Because I feel bad that you're the one always taking care of me and I never do anything in return.”

Paku laughed a little at that.

“Now you're just being silly,” she said.

The hand stroking your hair stopped so she could rest it on your shoulder as she continued with “I'll get you a glass of water and some pain pills, and after that how about we see if you can stomach some breakfast.”

You nodded.

After giving you the pills that you washed down quickly, Pakunoda left the bedroom so she could whip up some breakfast for you.

You were able to eat half of it, and after that Paku insisted that you stay in bed and rest up.

Same as usual.

Not long after she left the bedroom, you noted that you could hear her voice. Was she talking to someone on the phone? That seemed most likely as you didn't hear any other voice aside from hers.

…. Was she complaining about you to someone?

You immediately wanted to slap yourself for thinking that. Paku wasn't like that. You knew that she cared about you and she wouldn't have stayed with you through everything if that wasn't the case.

Other people had talked about you behind your back. But Pakunoda wasn't like them.

Waiting for the painkillers to kick in, you tried to do as Paku had said and get some rest, but it would probably take a while before the aching in your head subsided enough to allow you to sleep. Until then, you were left to stare at the ceiling while you heard the sounds of movement coming from the other parts of the house.

Hearing Paku taking care of things around the house while you lay in bed brought back those feelings of uselessness. No, you couldn't help that you were sick, but no matter how much that point was brought up, you still felt badly for it.

And what made it worse was that you were planning on doing something with Paku today.

A cute looking restaurant had opened in the area recently, and after looking over their menu and the positive reviews, you wanted to take Paku there with you for a date, which she had happily agreed to. She had also made a request that the two of you stop by a makeup shop that she liked so she could get new lipstick, and since the makeup shop was close by to the new restaurant, it seemed like a good plan. The two of you were going to go out, get lunch, go look at makeup, possibly do a little more shopping and maybe get dessert after.

You'd been looking forward to that.

But now you were sick, so it was canceled.

And it once again reminded you of the things that had happened when you first started getting sick like this; a lot of canceled dates and days spent at home. Sometimes the two of you would watch movies or tv shows together if your headache was a bit more mild, usually resting your head on Paku's lap while you watched the screen. Little things like that made those days better, but you hated how sickly it made you feel.

Paku was so good to you, and all you'd been during that time was useless and sickly.

Please please please don't let that start again

Pakunoda got a sense of how you were feeling when she reentered the room to check on you, as she found you looking up at the ceiling with a depressed look on your face. She frowned when she saw you like that.

You looked over to her when she joined you on the bed, laying down next to you.

“Don't be so sad,” she told you, “we can go on our date another day.”

“It's not that – well, not just that.”

Pakunoda stayed quiet as you continued.

“I'm just scared it'll start up again,” you said, “I don't want to be in pain in the morning for no reason and spend hours at the hospital only to have the doctors tell me that it's 'probably' just stress.”

“That won't happen,” she reassured you, “this is just a one-off thing.”

“You're sure?” you asked.

“Positive.”

She reached over to pet your hair, her fingers going through the strands as she caressed you.

“.... Are you okay?” you asked.

Paku brushed some of the hair out of your face, her fingertips on your forehead as she replied with “what makes you ask?”

“You seem a bit sad,” you answered.

The edges of her lips turned upward in a small smile as she said “I don't think anyone can be all that happy when someone they care about isn't feeling well.”

“I need to hurry and get better, then,” you said, “I don't like it when you're sad.”

She chuckled a little before saying “just don't push yourself.”

Pakunoda moved in closer so she could wrap an arm around you, kissing your forehead before she told you to rest up. When exactly you fell back into sleep, you weren't sure, but you remembered that she was still laying next to you when you did.

A light shaking of your shoulder and a voice that softly called your name brought you out of sleep, and you found Pakunoda standing over you and dressed like she was going to go out.

“Something unexpected came up and I need to take care of some things. Will you be okay if I leave?” she asked.

You nodded.

“I'll be fine. Go do what you need to.”

“Alright. But before I leave, I want you to promise me something.”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me that you won't do anything stupid while I'm gone.”

“... What exactly counts as stupid in this situation?” you asked.

“Getting up and walking around when you're still feeling nauseous,” said Paku, “if you don't feel well, then I want you to take it easy. And definitely don't go outside.”

“I don't think I'm that sick, Paku,” you said.

“Do I need to remind you what happened last time?”

“.... No.”

“Then just promise that you won't push yourself and that you'll stay in.”

“Okay. I promise.”

Pakunoda smiled once you said that, and leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I'll be back.”

You said your goodbyes as Paku left the bedroom, and a short while later you heard as she left through the front door, the lock clicking shut after her.

Your migraine didn't feel quite as intense as it had when you first woke up, but you were still very far from feeling like you were okay. Doing as Paku had said, you put your focus on getting rest in the hopes that the migraine would go away while you slept.

Do as Paku told you and take it easy so you can get better.

And pray to whatever god might be listening that the trend of having almost daily migraines doesn't start up again. You hoped that Paku was right in it being a one-off thing.

Despite how easy it was to lose yourself in your worries, you did get back to sleep for a bit, periodically waking up for brief moments while the pain in your head slowly lessened.

All you really remembered in those moments was that Paku didn't seem to be back yet, still out doing whatever errand of hers had popped up while you were still alone. After realizing that, you would drift off again, not taking note of anything else.

Except one thing.

In the midst of your dozing, you were vaguely aware of the doorbell ringing, and after a moment of silence, someone knocking at the door. Whoever was at the door definitely tried more than once to get someone to come open it, but you couldn't say how long it lasted before they gave up. With the haze that your mind was in during that instance, you were able to do little else besides acknowledge the fact that someone had rung the doorbell before you ended up drifting back into a longer and deeper sleep.

It was late afternoon when you woke up, judging by the color of the sky that you could see through the window.

You felt a lot better. The pain in your head was gone, and though you felt a bit dizzy when you sat up, other than that you were fine.

Figuring that it was probably safe for you to do, you got out of bed and headed to the kitchen just to stretch your legs as well as grab a glass of water. Pakunoda likely would've wanted you to stay in bed a bit longer if she was here. You remembered the promise you'd made, that you wouldn't push yourself. And you weren't. While you were moving at a slower pace, you still felt okay, so there was no way to say that this was you pushing yourself.

After setting the glass down, you walked about the house a bit, eager to move about after spending such a long time laying down. As you walked, you wondered when Paku would be back. Did she say what time it would be? …. No, she just said she'd be back. It felt safe to assume that she'd be back before evening, so most likely at some point soon. Unless something else came up, in which case you needed to check your phone in case you had any messages.

You were about to head back to the bedroom when you glanced at the front door as you passed by, and you remembered that moment when you'd been in bed and you thought you heard the doorbell. Had that actually happened, or did you just imagine it? Tough to say, but now you were distracted from your goal of getting your phone from the bedroom as you went for the door, curious to see if there was any sign of someone having been there earlier.

If someone really had been there, you couldn't tell, as when you opened the door just enough to poke your head out, the front steps that lead to the walkway looked just as they normally did.

Seeing that wasn't surprising in the slightest, and you weren't sure what exactly you'd been expecting.

You were going to shut the door and head back to the bedroom when you caught sight of one of your neighbors across the way heading out to his mailbox. When he pulled out a stack of letters, you looked to the one in front of your house. Paku hadn't gone out too early, but it seemed unlikely that the mail had been delivered before she left. The mail carrier had recently been delivering a lot later in the day than you were used to.

You found yourself going back into the bedroom, grabbing a hoodie and a long pair of pants so you didn't look as much of a mess when you went outside. It wasn't like you ever got anything too important in the mail aside from bills, the rest of it usually being junkmail. But you were feeling a lot better, and although it was minor, grabbing the mail was something you could do so Pakunoda had at least one less thing to worry about.

The fresh air was nice, you noted when you first stepped out, and although you walked a bit slower than you normally did, you managed to make it down to the mailbox without issue. As expected, all you found was junkmail, and as you closed the box back up, you looked at your surroundings briefly. The only person you could see was a man on the other side of the street who was getting out of a parked car; not a guy you knew, so presumably a guest of one of your neighbors. And as for them, none of your neighbors seemed to be out at the moment. Probably a good thing; you didn't know that you were in the mood for a conversation at the moment.

With your goal accomplished and nothing to keep you outside, you made your way back to the front door.

“Have you had time to think about what I told you?”

A man's voice called out from behind you, and instinct had you turning around. The man from the car was now approaching you. He was older, maybe in his fifties, if you were to guess. The unkempt beard was what stood out most about him, but as you looked closer at the suit he was wearing seemed a bit ratty. The color of the suit wasn't too appealing either.

Although considering the messy state of your hair and the fact that you were the one wearing a hoodie and a loose pair of pants over your sleeping clothes, you probably didn't have much of a leg to stand on when it came to judging other people's appearances.

He stopped when he reached you, and gave you a pointed look as he asked “well?”

… What?

“.... I'm sorry?” you asked, your confusion evident.

“What we talked about yesterday; have you thought on it?” he asked.

“Talked yesterday?” you repeated, even more confused as you continued with “sir, I've never spoken to you before.”

Now he was the one who looked confused.

“You're kidding me, right? We spoke for half an hour yesterday,” he said.

What?

“No.... No we didn't,” you said, shaking your head.

“We did,” he insisted. His eyebrows were furrowed, like he was starting to get frustrated.

Did you have the strength to be able to run back into the house if this guy got mad enough at you? And were you jumping way too far ahead and assuming the absolute worst about this guy? Maybe, but seeing as you'd never seen him before and didn't know anything about him, it might be better to err on the side of caution. You didn't want to end up injured or worse because you stupidly thought that some stranger wasn't a threat to you.

“I really don't think we did,” you replied, taking a small step back.

“I told you, we spoke for half an hour,” he said, taking a step forward as he continued “we talked about your girlfriend and the lies she's fed you. We also talked about how your family wants to see you again. They're going sick with worry over you and all they want is for you to come back home.”

You went quiet after he said that, things falling into place in your mind once he mentioned your family.

“.... Did they hire you to come here?” you asked.

“That's not important.”

“That's a 'yes',” you said, sighing after.

So this was what they were resorting to now, huh?

After a moment, you answered firmly “my family doesn't care about me. They haven't cared for a long time, and I doubt that's changed.”

“Goddammit, you said the same thing yesterday,” he said, “they're paying me to find you because they want you to come back! I told you, they're worried about you.”

“No, they're not. Those people aren't capable of compassion; all they do is use others. So if they want me back, all it means is that they want something from me,” you said, “and whatever it is that they want me for, I don't want any part of it. So go back and tell them to stop wasting their time. I don't need them and I don't want to see any of them again.”

He was looking at you in disbelief now.

“You said the same thing yesterday,” he said.

“I didn't speak to you yesterday,” you reiterated.

“You did,” he insisted.

Then he added “your family was right; the amount of control she has over you is terrifying.”

The implication that Paku was controlling you made you upset as you replied with a defensive “Pakunoda isn't controlling me. She hasn't done anything except give me a happier life.”

He scoffed then.

“That bitch really has you wrapped around her finger, huh.”

Anger swelled in your chest upon hearing him talk about Paku in that way.

You'd had enough.

“Leave,” you said.

“Let me show you something.”

“Whatever it is I don't want to see it. Go away.”

“So you're not even going to think about what I've said?”

“What's there to think about? You've harassed me, admitted to being paid by my asshole family to hunt me down, and now you've insulted my girlfriend. Say what you want about me, but don't talk about Paku like that,” you said.

“Just look at-”

“No! Get the fuck away from here and don't come back. I don't want to see you ever again,” you spat.

You turned and headed back to the house, ignoring everything else he said while he called for you to hear him out, locking the door after yourself before you leaned back against it, trying to steady your breathing and calm down.

Emotions were building in you with a strong desire to punch something in an effort to vent out some of your feelings.

Of all the things they were resorting to now, this? Hiring someone to find you? So what, you could go back to the unhappy life you'd had with them?

No doubt that guy had his head filled with stories about Paku that your family had told him, making her out to be some terrible person who was manipulating you. That was what they'd tried to make you believe, and had been a major factor in you cutting them off. That, and a pile of resentment over the years that had been building up slowly before the dam finally broke.

You weren't going back to them.

Placing the mail on a small table next to the door, you found that you felt incredibly tired again as the adrenaline from the encounter began to wear down. Although you had been feeling better, getting worked up like that hadn't done you any favors.

Once more making your way to the bedroom, you collapsed on the bed, managing to pull the sheets over yourself before you closed your eyes again.

She wasn't happy with you.

You could tell when you woke up next and found Pakunoda in the bedroom with you, frowning when she saw that you were awake. Once you saw that look on her face, you immediately felt guilt wash over you.

“You told me you would stay in bed,” she said, holding the junkmail you had collected earlier, proof that you had been up and about. It was clear that she was disappointed with you.

“I'm sorry,” you began, “I wasn't feeling as bad so I wanted to help out a little.”

“I understand that, but you also promised me that you wouldn't go out.”

….. Ah. That had been something she'd told you. And you had promised that you wouldn't do that.

You really managed to forget that?

“I'm sorry, Paku,” you said. You stayed quiet after, worried that if you said anything else it'd come off like you were trying to make excuses.

After a moment, she let out a soft sigh.

“I don't have it in me to stay upset with you,” she said, placing the mail on the end table as she continued with “at least nothing happened.”

The second she said that, you remembered the incident with the man from earlier. Seeing Paku being disappointed in you had caused you to not think of it immediately, but now that you had, you felt yourself tensing up.

You needed to tell her.

Pakunoda clearly noticed your reaction as she asked “what's wrong?”

“..... My family hired a guy to hunt me down and take me back to them,” you said.

She blinked at that.

It probably wasn't the best move to just blurt it out like that, and you explained “he came here and spoke to me when I was outside. I think he was trying to make me leave with him.”

“He was saying awful things about you,” you added.

Pakunoda looked even more unhappy than she had been when you first woke up, frowning as she sat down next to you and took your hand in hers.

“Start from the beginning. What happened?” she asked. Her voice was calm, and the feeling of her hand holding yours made you feel a little bit better.

“I went out to get the mail,” you began, “and when I was going back inside he came up to me. And – it was weird. He was acting like we'd talked before. He even said that we'd spoken to each other yesterday. But that didn't happen, and I told him that it didn't happen, but he kept saying that we did. Then he mentioned my family.”

“He admitted that your family had hired him?” Paku asked.

“Yeah. At first he said that it wasn't important, but he did eventually admit it,” you answered, “but he kept going on about how we had spoken yesterday, but I stopped talking to him when he insulted you. I told him not to come back but if he's being paid to harass us, I kinda doubt he'll listen to me.”

A terrifying thought came to mind, and you squeezed her hand as you asked “do you think he's a Hunter? If he is, he can get away with taking people by force, right? What if he takes me when you go out again? If that happens, what can-”

Pakunoda shushed you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as she held you close.

“If he was a Hunter, I don't think he would've bothered speaking with you first,” she began, “based off what you've said, it sounds like he's some sort of private investigator and he was trying to make you go back willingly. The amount of trouble he'd get into for kidnapping someone wouldn't be worth it, so don't worry about that.”

You nodded. As usual, she was much better at keeping a clear head on her shoulders.

“As for your family, while this is new for them, I can't say it's entirely unexpected,” she continued, “all we can do about them is hope they give up on you eventually.”

“.... Do you think he's told them where we live?” you asked.

“Possibly,” Paku said, “but the good thing about being in a completely different country is that it won't be so easy for them to show up unexpectedly. Not without spending a lot of jenny on air travel.”

“Yeah. But still, maybe we should think about moving in case they do decide to come here,” you said, “I don't want to see them screaming at you again.”

“I know. And I don't want them anywhere near you.”

She pulled away slightly, putting both of her hands on your upper arms and squeezing lightly to calm you further.

Paku continued with “we don't need to go with the nuclear option right away. We can keep an eye out for anyone who looks like they're watching us and deal with them if we run into them. And if your family does show up, they can't make you go back with them. You're allowed to make your own decisions. They can't make you do anything.”

Then she kissed you before she hugged you, saying “everything will be okay.”

Despite how uncertain you felt in that moment, you nodded as you hugged her back. The idea of possibly being confronted by them again was scary, but at least you knew Paku would be with you if that were to happen.

“I really am sorry, Paku,” you said after a moment, “I hate being a burden on you.”

“You aren't.”

Pakunoda pulled away, cupping your cheek with her hand as she smiled at you.

“Everything will be fine,” she said, “and we'll always be together, right?”

You smiled back as you said “right.”

Paku glanced over to the largely darkened skies that were visible through the bedroom windows.

“We should start on dinner. You haven't had anything to eat since this morning, right?” she asked.

The instant she mentioned that, you felt the emptiness in your stomach and you nodded.

“Should I still stay in here?” you asked.

“I don't see much point in that if you're feeling well enough to walk around,” she answered, “might as well have you keep me company while I make us something.”

With that, she led you off the bed and out of the room, holding your hand as the two of you made your way to the kitchen.

And when she sat you down at the table and she saw the way you smiled up at her, Pakunoda felt secure.

There was no need to use Memory Bomb on you today.

As she began to put dinner together, she released the memories she'd collected of what you'd told her, letting go of the conversation you'd had with the investigator instead of putting them into one of her bullets to shoot into your head.

She'd needed to do it yesterday to get rid of everything that the investigator had told you, causing you to awake with a headache that morning.

Just like you, she also hoped that pattern wouldn't start up again.

It had begun early on in your relationship, when Pakunoda had quickly seen how suspicious your family was of her and how they were trying to subtly push you towards breaking up with her out of fear for your safety that she had decided to take action. Pakunoda had decided that she didn't want to lose you, so when she was able to convince you to move in with her, she began the process of altering and removing your memories of your family.

She made a point to take her time with it, carefully sifting through every memory of yours before she would return it to you by way of a bullet, which caused you to forget the memories that had been returned intact and replaced by the ones she'd fabricated. To make you more reliant on her and more willing to cut off your family, she'd gotten rid of almost all of your happy memories with them and altering the negative ones so they were even more egregious in your mind; things that to you, were unforgivable, and that the only reason you were still in contact was because of familial obligation.

The whole process took a period of several months as she worked her way through your memories. And while the amount of time spent hadn't been ideal, it was far safer than to try and change all of the memories in your head at once. Doing that could have disastrous consequences if she messed up.

She knew from experience: Pakunoda had done an experiment once to see how much of a person's memory she could take, and how much she could destroy by sending those memories back into that person. Back when she'd just gotten to the point of perfecting her hatsu, she'd captured a man and tied him up while she interrogated him on every aspect of his life, getting every single detail she could.

Those memories were placed into a bullet with the use of Memory Bomb. Much to her surprise, the multiple years worth of memories were able to fit into a single bullet. When she fired that bullet into his skull, the shock of the impact was so great that the chair he was sitting in was forced backwards, causing him to fall.

There wasn't much left of him when she pulled him back up into a sitting position.

He barely remembered how to speak.

And when she released him into a nearby forest, he stumbled about, confused and not understanding his situation at all.

Before she'd taken his memories, he was someone with an expertise in the wildlife of the area, his memories telling her that he'd gone there to study a herd of carnivorous pigs. But he shambled his way past a pile of animal bones that had been cleaned of all meat, and his cries accompanied by the sounds of tearing flesh and breaking bones that she heard not long after were a clear indicator of what his fate ultimately was.

Pakunoda didn't want you to become like him as a result of her ability; she wanted you for you, not a husk that looked like you.

So a few times each week she would remove something, change a little bit, and then return it to you when she shot you. You would forget what she had left intact and only remember what she had changed. A side effect of this was the awful headaches you had when you came to in the morning that left you barely able to sit up. That had been a bit unexpected as none of the troupe had ever mentioned such a thing when she'd used her ability on them, but she welcomed it as it was something she could use to her advantage. Taking care of you without complaint, Pakunoda got you to fall in love with her even further.

Which in turn caused you to push your family further away.

At the end of it you were more than happy to move away with her and you cut ties with your family completely, something that would've been hard to convince you of near the beginning, but by that point you trusted her without question, and all you wanted was to live with her someplace where the two of you could be happy.

That had come under jeopardy yesterday.

She didn't anticipate that your family would give up on you, but after the efforts she'd made to cover her tracks, it was a bit annoying to have a private investigator manage to track you down.

And even worse, he'd managed to get you to question yourself as he'd shown you something that had confused you: a picture of you with your family at a graduation, something that had seemed far too detailed to have been fabricated, and it showed all of you smiling on what was clearly a happy day.

In your memory they hadn't bothered to show up.

Pakunoda had known immediately that something was wrong when she saw you after that meeting, and when she brushed a hand against your cheek as she asked you what was wrong, your mouth gave one answer while your memories gave her another. You lied to her, and she saw that not only were you questioning things, but you were considering talking again to the investigator.

Without hesitation she'd pulled out her gun and fired it at you, wiping your memories of that afternoon and catching you before you fell.

Today her plan had been to get rid of that man while you stayed at home to recover, having gotten the investigator's name after she called Shalnark to check what accounts your family was transferring money to. It was easy to find out where in the area he was staying at after checking his credit card history.

Take care of him while you slept so there was no chance of you running into him again; that was what Pakunoda had been hoping for. But instead of the investigator giving you a few days to think over what you'd seen like he told you he was going to do, he ended up going back to the house she shared with you. Something she had learned when she caught him on his way back to his motel room.

His tenacity had been frustrating, and after looking through the conversation you'd had from his perspective, she anticipated that she would once again need to remove your memories of that afternoon.

This time, however, you weren't as receptive to him. Clearly because of his insistence that the two of you had spoken prior. And when she looked through your mind as she asked her questions, she saw that there weren't any doubts in you: you trusted her and her alone.

No need to use her hatsu on you.

It was actually a relief to not do so. Even though you would quickly forget, she always remembered the sight of your shocked face every time she had placed the barrel of her revolver against your forehead: confusion, fear and sadness taking over you as all you knew in that moment was that your girlfriend was holding a gun to your head.

Tonight could be a peaceful one, and tomorrow there would be no need for you to awake with any awful migraine.

No need to fear the investigator coming back, either, as his body would likely be on the way to a garbage dump by now, and Shalnark had said he would take over his identity for a bit so it appeared that he was still alive so your family would be pointed in a different direction as to where you were currently living.

Even if the man's body resurfaced, most of the identifying features had been destroyed, so it was unlikely that anyone who found him would be able to give him his name back. Just another John Doe in a sea of unidentified bodies.

Pakunoda glanced from the cutting board to find that you were watching her.

You smiled when you made eye contact, and you asked “did everything go okay with the stuff you needed to take care of?”

“Yes. Everything's fine now,” she answered.

“Was it something that would've been bad?”

“If it had been left the way it was.”

You hummed, saying “I'm guessing it's work related since you're being pretty vague.”

Paku smiled at you, which seemed to confirm your suspicions.

“I won't ask anymore, then,” you said, “I'm glad it all worked out.”

“So am I.”

As she focused again on what she was doing, Pakunoda's mind went back to the investigator.

At the moment she was letting you keep those memories of him as it was a good way to reaffirm that you shouldn't have contact with your family, as everything he'd said to you this time had upset you greatly.

But if his body did resurface and your suspicions were somehow raised again, she'd remove them. While it took a physical toll on you, it was worth it to keep things peaceful.

She'd keep an eye out for now, and if something changed, she would know.

After all, there wasn't a single thought that went through your head that Pakunoda wasn't aware of.

[danceswithsporks]

Calm- Part 3

Part 2 of 6 in the Complete Series!

Wrecker x Fem!Seamstress

Parts 1 2

Chapter About: a perfect day on Pabu takes a turn. Can your heart handle what’s coming?

Authors notes: Kinda short update compared to my other parts, don’t worry, the next one will be loooooong. With where I ended this one I just found it worked best as the stopping point for this part.

Calm, that's how Wrecker felt as he silently watched you sleep next to him. His thick finger gently stroked a strand of your hair from your face making you hum softly in your sleep before readjusting closer to his warmth. He tried to go over the night's events again and again in hopes of preserving each moment perfectly in his memory. As it stood, he wouldn’t be leaving Pabu anytime soon. But he was a soldier, that was something that ran through his blood. On top of it all, he was a clone on the run from an empire that wanted him dead. How long would it be before they were on the run again and leaving you behind?

“Wrecker?” You hummed sleepily from your place against his chest. “You okay?”

The serious look on his face quickly changed to a soft and sweet smile. “Absolutely perfect. How did you sleep?” Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose.

Like a sexy as fuck man had made love to you not once, but twice? So sore you’d barely be able to walk today? “Better than I’ve slept in a long time.” You shifted closer to him beneath the blanket and groaned slightly. Yes, you were definitely sore.

The way you groaned as you shifted made Wrecker wonder if he’d been too rough with you the night before. Quickly he pulled the blanket from you and began to look you over. “Are you injured? Do you need a bacta or a stem?” His hand slid down your thighs and carefully opened them. You winced slightly and a twinge of guilt coursed through the clone. “I’m sorry.”

Stars, the feeling of those thick hands around your thighs again was making you wet. “If you really want to apologize then I know a way for you to make it up to me.”

Wrecker inhaled at the sight of your core glistening before him. Never would anything be so beautiful to him than the sight of you in his oversized shirt wanting him. He moved up towards your lips and gently kissed you. “Whatever it is you want, goddess.”

Your arms snaked up around his neck and pulled him close to you. Your eyes softened as you kissed him once more. “Please, make love to me again.”

He’d expected that you’d say that and as much as he wanted to, and he really wanted to, he was worried about hurting you even more. “But you’re already sore. Are you sure?” The way you looked at him, the way you trusted him fully with no hesitation made him feel even worse about hurting you.

“I didn’t ask you to fuck me, Strongman.” You ran your nose against the tip of his. “I asked you to make love to me, Wrecker. Be that soft and gentle man I met that first day.”

Soft and gentle, huh? Wrecker continued to run his nose against yours as he thought about what to do. “You’ll stop me if it hurts even a little bit, right?” When you nodded with a soft smile, he bit his lip before sliding his hands beneath the shirt you wore. The shirt was carefully pulled off of you and placed to the side revealing the love marks from the night before. “K-kriff. Look at you.” These were his marks! He’d left those on you and marked you in places that others would see. The little reservations he had about making love to you were gone as the realization that you were his now. Other men would see those marks and know you had someone in your life and were no longer available. “Mine.” Came a growl from him as he leaned down and placed a kiss on the first mark he’d left on you just above your breast. “Mine.” He continued to repeat the word over and over as his lips brushed against your skin. Each mark was kissed twice before he kissed your navel, then the space beneath it before kissing the center of your mound. His brown eyes stared you down as he slowly peppered mini kisses across it before he finally found your clit.

The slow languid way he ran his tongue over your clit was so perfect this early in the morning. The gentle way he lapped and kissed you while his eyes stayed on yours was sweet and endearing. He truly was trying to be as careful as possible with you. But gods! The way he continued to claim you as his wound you up a lot. A whine of pleasure left you as his tongue dipped into your core and he sucked gently. “F-fuck. Please, fuck me.”

The way your back arched as his tongue slid across your pearl and those sweet needy whines drove Wrecker up and down the walls. You were beautiful and sexy and all his. He’d do whatever you asked him to do without zero hesitation. “As you wish.” Wrecker placed one last lick on your folds before pulling back and looking down at your needy body. What was it about those marks on you that brought out this animalistic urge inside of him that wanted to screw you into your bed? A long moan left the clone as your hand wrapped around his aching cock. “N-not fair.”

You sat up and pushed him back onto his ass before moving between his legs. “You were taking too long.” Dragging your hand slowly up his long thick length, you felt your mouth begin to water. Honestly, how could he look this fucking perfect? Your elbows held you up as you leaned onto all fours with your mouth hanging open in front of him. “You’ve spent the night worshiping me. Please, allow me to return the favor.” Your nose rubbed against the tip of his cock taking in the scent of him before you ran locked a long strip underneath the large member.

“I th-thought you wanted…hnng…to make love.” You’d sucked on him last night but not as sensual or slow as this.The way you swirled your tongue around his tip and lapped at the droplets that leaked from him was dizzying and Wrecker had to fight to stay sitting up. He wanted to see every movement you did and savor the sight of you sucking his cock.

*pling* *pling* *pling*

He’d kill whoever was calling him.

A pop came from you as you pulled your mouth away from him, a string of spit connecting your bottom lip to the tip of his cock, “you should get that.” You watched in delight as his eyes looked at you in surprise that you’d tell him to take the call right now. “Go on, Wrecker. It’s been going off all morning.” With a mischievous grin and a wink, you resumed your ministrations.

“But your…hnng…sucking me just…gah…right.” The last thing he wanted was for you to stop. Maker, all he wanted was for you to continue and then to fuck you all day. Screw whatever plans you both had, all he wanted to do today was be confined to your bed inside of you somehow.

Another pop came as you pulled away for a moment. “Who said I was going to stop? Be good and don’t give us away.”

You were back on him before his mind could even process what you’d said. So you wanted him to pick up his com and talk to whoever it was while you… Fuck, Wrecker really liked that idea. His hand shot quickly over to the bedside table and grabbed the small device before answering it with voice only. “What?” Oh, he hadn’t meant for that to come out so aggressively.

“Wrecker, I’ve been trying to reach you all morning.” Hunter sat on the other end in the cockpit of the Marauder watching Tech run over the layout of the ship's console with Omega for the tenth time. Seemed today was finally the day he’d let her drive.

“Been busy.” He stifled a groan as you slid all of him into your mouth, your nose brushing against his stomach. “What’s…going on?” Fuck he liked it when you did that with your throat, it felt like you were trying to swallow him.

There were a lot of things that Hunter was, but a fool wasn’t one of them. While someone like Tech or Omega might not notice the sounds in the background, he did. Another curse of his heightened senses. “This a bad time?” Please say yes, was the only thought coursing through his head. When Wrecker replied with a stifled ‘No’, Hunter silently swore to himself. “Got a call from Echo last night. He’s heading this way.”

Your mouth froze around Wrecker's cock as you stared up at him through hooded lashes. Echo, was his brother that just left to work with their other brothers. If it was something important to him then could it be their other brother Crosshair? This was clearly more important than sex. You began to pull away from him but felt his big thick hand on the back of your head, holding you down with his cock buried practically in your throat.

“Need me to head back?” If Hunter said yes then Wrecker really would kill him. But Echo just suddenly coming to Pabu was odd after the parting they’d had on Coruscant. What if he finally had a lead on Crosshair?

The silence on Wrecker's end of the com was uncomfortably deafening. If Hunter told him that Echo had sounded serious and that there was a chance this was about Cross, his brother would come running. Ruining whatever moment the two of you were already having and that he’d interrupted. “Echo won’t be here till later this evening. Sounded like he just misses Omega and could use a break. Don’t worry about heading back.”

An unintentionally long sigh left you at his brother's remark. It meant he didn’t have to leave right away and you two could continue your fun. Wrecker's fingers tightened into your hair as he pulled you up a bit before thrusting into your mouth. Seemed he was more than okay with staying with you. Smiling, you sucked the tip of him hard and teasingly loud. A pop came from your lips as you did so. Wrecker looked at you shocked before smirking.

“Let me know when he’s close and I’ll head back. Gotta go, sounds like breakfast is almost ready.” First, he’d fill your stomach with his seed and then your cunt. Make sure you were nice and full before cooking for you. He didn’t wait for Hunter to reply before ending the call and throwing his com to the side. His hand flashed to your chin and pulled your lips up towards his. “So fucking naughty. Don’t think ya understand what ya just did.”

You feigned ignorance while giving him cute pouty eyes. “I was just trying to get you to relax, Wrecker. You seemed so tense.” His grip on your chin was firm and sent heat to your aching core.

“Hunter can hear things others might not be able to. He heard that pretty mouth of yours at work. Knew exactly what we were doing.” He’d explained Hunter's heightened senses to you last night when you’d noticed that Hunter didn’t seem to buy your swimming story. “Not just his smell that’s heightened, sarad. His ears, taste, and sight as well.”

In your defense, you barely remembered much about the previous night besides him destroying you. The brief conversation on Hunter's abilities flashed across your mind before your cheeks flared. “So he could tell what I was doing?” When Wrecker smirked and nodded, you chuckled and leaned into a quick kiss. “Think he’s jealous you're getting laid and he’s not?”

While your embarrassed side was hot, your teasing was even hotter. “I hope so because I plan on flaunting your scent all over that ship.” As far as he knew, he was the only one getting action. That swell of pride alone would drive him for the next few days. He chuckled at the look of disgust that crossed your face. “Don’t worry, I’ll be showering.” His thick finger left your face and pointed to the shirt you’d slept in. “But that won't be washed for a while.”

“It won’t.” You remarked playfully before straddling his lap. “Because it will be staying with me.” Wrecker opened his mouth to no doubt remind you that it was his shirt when his words were suddenly twisted into a moan as you sunk onto his cock. His rough hands gripped your sides quickly and slowly helped lower you as you took every inch of him that you could. He bottomed out inside of you making you sigh in bliss. The tip of his cock rubbed against your cervix and while it stung just slightly, the overall feeling of his thick long cock inside of you was just too amazing to complain. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you take back something.” He shifted beneath you causing you to moan, it felt so good.

“What did ya…hnng..have in m-mind.” You’d begun to bounce in his lap and his mind was currently fighting to hold a conversation. Wrecker moved his hands from your hips and to your ass, holding each cheek easily in his palms. Your lips crashed against his as little moans of pleasure left you with each hard thrust. A gasp left him as your lips moved to his neck and you lazily sucked against the sensitive skin that was visible to all. “W-worried that someone else might get ideas?”

You stilled in his lap and let your lips lap at the skin that you’d sucked a decent-sized mark on. His fingers massaged your cheek as he waited for you to start moving again. With a satisfied sigh, you pulled away from his neck and seductively whipped the corners of your lips with your ring finger. “I want them to get all the ideas. Want them…” you raised yourself slowly before allowing gravity to pull you back down his cock. “To know you’ve been claimed. That you have a…” you tried to repeat the movement but felt his hand firmly hold you in place. “Whatever I am.” A warm tight buzz was rushing through your body as you neared the peak of the mountain of bliss you’d been climbing.

Wrecker was so damn close already. Something about your sexy fucking body that pulled him to that edge so damn quickly. “What…what do you want to be?” You two hadn’t exactly discussed whatever this was yet.

The entire time you’d been in his lap, his fingers had been working your bud and driving you mad. If he moved just right. If he said just the right thing you’d be falling over that cliff and into the waiting pool of bliss and ecstasy below. It wasn’t hard for you to figure out what you wanted to be. It’s all that had been on your mind the last day and a half. “Yours.”

His lips pressed against yours as his arm wrapped around your waist holding you close. That was all he needed to hear. Wrecker resumed his steady pace as he thrusted into you, his finger moving quickly against your clit. Pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes closed before he spoke. “You always have been.”

Together the two of you toppled over your peaks and fell into a pool of bliss together. Gasps and moans and whispers of praises fell from both of your lips to one another as you rode out your highs. Your legs wrapped around his waist and held him close as he peppered gentle kisses against your shoulder, his member slowly softening inside you. The two of you stayed that way for nearly fifteen minutes, reveling in the bliss of your coupling.

His fingers stroked up and down your back slowly sending shivers down your spine as your head rested in the crook of his neck. You wondered if he meant what he said, that you had already been his, or if he’d just said it to fuck you some more. That darkness in your mind was pushed away as he whispered a soft ‘mine’ in your ear. How could you truly think he’d just say something like that and not mean it? This was Wrecker you were talking about. Your sweet, kind, strong, and handsome clone who was always there when you needed him. Your clone. Your Wrecker. With a happy sigh, you placed a kiss on his cheek and nodded. “Mine.”

*-*

“Sure ya don’t want to come to the docks with me? Once I finish helping with repairs I plan on doing some fishing.” Wrecker stood in the doorway of your home with fresh clothes on and a nice hickey on his neck. He watched as you leaned against the doorway and shook your head.

“I want to finish one of Tech's outfits so he matches Chai. She’s planning on asking him on a date ya know.” The matching set would be precious on them. The design you had in mind would perfectly match the clone's intellect and Chai’s beauty.

Seeing as his brother was taking his sweet time with that, he didn’t blame the tea shop girl for taking the lead. “Think it’ll take ya all day?” He was hoping for some more time with ya before Echo got there.

“Probably a couple of hours. But after that, I'll be free. If you catch anything, bring it to me and I’ll make all of you dinner.” You hadn’t had dinner with all of them at once yet. “I’ll invite Chai. Make it a special night. Especially if Echo is coming to visit.” You were excited to meet him, from everything Omega had gushed about him, he sounded interesting. Maybe you could grab his measurements and make him some fresh clothes as well.

His hand brushed against your skin and held your cheek for a moment as he took in how you looked standing there with his shirt on once more. A mark-covered shoulder peaked out from the larger neck hole as you leaned into his touch. “That sounds like the perfect night.”

He leaned down and kissed you sweetly, savoring the taste of the fruit-covered flatcakes he’d made you for breakfast on your lips. “Would it be too much to ask for another night with you?”

You hummed sweetly as you stood on your tiptoes and kissed him once more. “You never have to ask, Wrecker. Our bed will be waiting for us both tonight.” Now that you’d slept next to him, you couldn’t imagine sleeping without him. His warmth and large size was just so comforting.

“Then no matter what, I’ll see you tonight, sarad.”

1

2

3

4

5 kisses were placed against your lips as Wrecker tried to force himself to leave.

“Go!” You giggled loudly as you tried to shoo him away. A sixth kiss was placed on your lips before he finally turned and headed towards the gate that would lead him out of your courtyard. Your gentle eyes watched as his hand rested on the gate for a moment before the clone turned and ran back to you. His large arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you into the air as he placed a seventh and eighth kiss on you. “Wrecker!” Soft fingers danced across the back of his neck as you held on with a happy squeal leaving you.

“Don’t want to leave.” He whispered happily to you as a ninth and tenth kiss was placed on your cheeks. Now that you’d figured out your relationship, he didn’t want to be without you. Your hands slapped his chest playfully as your sweet giggles filled the late-morning air.

“They’ll send someone to find you if you don’t go. Might as well just go nooooow.” He kissed you two more times and you sighed in defeat. “Well, now you need to kiss me one more time for lucky thirteen.”

“I thought thirteen was unlucky.” Wrecker nuzzled your nose as you shrugged in his arms. Your legs had wrapped around his waist allowing him to slide his arms beneath your butt to help hold you up. “Should make it count then, shouldn’t we?”

The way he was holding you allowed you to see over the top of his head. It was so strange being this high up. You looked down at him, a first for you, and smiled sweetly. Fingers ran across his scar and blind eye as you admired his features. You loved how he looked, so perfect to you. “You better make it a good one then, strongman.” A gasp left you as he lowered you before pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was so protective and intense. Your head felt like it was spinning as he held you tightly.

If this had to be the last kiss he’d give you for a few hours then he really would make it worth it. “Don’t miss me too much today.” You hummed a cute ‘I’ll try my best.’ To him while he buried his face in your hair, enjoying the scent of your shampoo. “Don’t worry. I’ll jog that memory of yours tonight after dinner.” He felt you shiver in his arms at the insinuated activities that would happen later. Good. He wanted you to spend the entire day thinking about what he’d do to you that night.

You staggered slightly as he placed you down, your legs like jelly after that kiss. He was trying to rile you up and dammit it, it was working. “I’ll have something very special for you tonight to make sure you’re always thinking about me.” He smirked at you as he made his way towards the gate once more. You leaned against your door and watched the clone finally leave your courtyard and head down the island. He shot you a final wave as he crested the path leading down the island. A kiss was blown to him and he pretended to catch it before he vanished.

A hum left you before you whispered a sweet “See ya tonight, my Wrecker.”. Turning from the courtyard, you headed back inside and went to change, ready to get the day started.

-*-

“You look like you’re in a hurry.” You stared at Wrecker as he held out the large fish he’d caught. The sound of the two ships overhead rattled a few things on your shelf making you understand why he was in such a hurry. “Oh.”

“I kept the biggest fish for our dinner.” He bounced in anticipation of seeing Echo. His com rang in his pocket and he quickly leaned forward and kissed you deeply. “Sorry, gotta go.”

The large fish was carefully passed to you as you giggled against his kiss. “Go. Give your brother a big hug and be back in two hours. Dinner should be done by then.” Not fully but it would give you a chance to grab Echos measurements before you all sat down to eat. The excitement radiating from your clone was so energizing.

“Ok, ok, ok.” Wrecker had to fight his excitement as he began to rush towards your gate. “We’ll be back soon! I can’t wait for him to meet you.” He really couldn’t. You were everything he’d ever wanted in a partner. Beauty, brains, and a heart of absolute gold. Everything Echo had said was important when they’d last talked about relationships. A simple jab about the last time any of them had gotten laid had turned into a long conversation about relationships and crushes. Which had Echo revealing his crush on a medic from the 501st called Dove. Apparently, they’d lost contact and his brother was still crushing on her.

“I hope so.” With a wave and an eye roll at his goofiness, you carried the fish over to your outside table and stared at it. How the hells were you going to cook this thing?

-*-

It had taken you a while to clean the fish and get everything prepared. But soon enough everything was sitting in your oven cooking and you were placing cutlery on your table for an actual family meal. Something you hadn’t had in…well years. The idea of such a thing excited you. Hopefully, you and Echo got along and he liked your food.

A knock on your door had you placing the basket of forks and knives down in surprise. There were still another thirty minutes before they needed to be here. Your hands wiped on your skirt as you made your way to the door, a knot forming in your stomach before you pushed it away. What was there to be worried about? You opened the door with a bright smile, ready to meet his brother, only to find Wrecker waiting alone. “Where’s the others?” He gave you a serious look and somehow you knew that they wouldn’t be coming. “You’re leaving, aren’t you.”

Were his emotions so obvious that you figured it out right away? “We are.” He expected you to be upset, but instead, you moved to the side and motioned for him to come in. Your living area had been picked up a bit and he could see that you’d even set the table for everyone. The delicious smell of dinner cooking in the kitchen made him feel so incredibly guilty.

You followed quietly behind him trying to gauge the seriousness of the situation. “When do you leave?”

“In an hour.” He didn’t turn to face you, afraid that if he did he’d break down. Were they leaving for a good cause? Stars, yes. Would it be dangerous, more like deadly? But it was for Cross, they’d finally be bringing him home. But at the same time, you’d be left here, worrying. What if something happened? What if they died, what if he died? The thought terrified him.

“When will you be back?” Why wasn’t he looking at you? How bad would this be? “Wrecker? Please look at me?”

He shook his head solemnly at your request, he just couldn’t face those loving eyes of yours. “Tech says it's three days to our first location. After that, who knows.”

Stepping behind him, you took one of his hands in yours and held it lovingly. “Is it Crosshair?” When he nodded, you let out a soft sigh. “Better pack you guys some food then. You’ll need all your energy.” You walked past him, his hand still in yours, and led him to the kitchen. “Dinner should almost be done. I can pack it up for you to take. Make sure Omega gets enough water, I notice she tends to not remember to drink enough.” Releasing his hand you began to look through the cabinets for containers. Thankfully you’d just gone grocery shopping so you had fresh food ready to go. “The fruit should last a couple of days, so eat the dinner tonight and maybe tomorrow if you have extra. Don’t worry about the containers I ca…”. You felt his strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you close. A choked cry left you as you heard him whisper ‘I’m sorry.’ In your ear.

He could see that you were trying hard to keep yourself together for his sake. It wasn't fair for you to hold it all in. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I will come back.” A heavy emphasis was placed on ‘Will’. Nothing would stop him from coming back to you. As if to make sure that he had to come back he reached into the satchel he carried and pulled out something. Sliding it around your waist and into your hand, he spoke softly against your skin. “Hold onto this for me. I’ll be back for it.”

You looked down at the item and nodded softly. While you weren’t positive about why he wanted you to hold onto it, it had to be important enough that he was giving it to you. “I will. I’ll keep it safe.”

Wrecker chuckled sadly as he savored your scent in his nose. “It’ll keep you safe. When you miss me, just hold it.” Wherever this mission would lead them, he’d feel you and find his way back.”

“How much time do you have before you need to get back?” You turned in his arms and looked up at him with a forced sweet smile. If this was it for a while then you’d make the most of your time. It was like he could read your mind, scooping you up in his arms, Wrecker carried you towards your bedroom.

“Enough to make love to you.”

-*-

Your throat tightened as you stared at the empty night sky, the ship of the Batch long gone now. Feet dangled over the side of the stone wall in your private courtyard, your back facing your house. Wrecker still hated when you sat up here like this, worried that you’d fall forward to your death. It was for that reason alone that you sat this way, a stuffed black and red Tooka doll in your hands. Maybe if you began to fall he’d come out of nowhere and pull you into him, the entire past conversation of him leaving just a dream. When your gatebell rang quietly like fairy bells in the night air, you expected to see him waiting with a smirk on his lips. Ready to chastise you for sitting on the wall once more. But instead, you found Chai looking at you with swollen red eyes and a quivering bottom lip.

“Oh, sweetie.”

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[sometimes-i-write-good]

¿Quieres bailar conmigo?

Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia x gn!pilotreader [no use of y/n]

2.6k || Fanboy comes home from leave a day early to surprise you, but you surprise him instead.

===

Genre: fluff

CW: overload of charisma

Author's Note: Fanboy is my favorite Top Gun: Maverick character and I’ve already read everything in existence about him, so I have to take matters into my own hands. || cross-posted on ao3

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===

The first thing Mickey heard when he turned the lock to your shared apartment was a breakup song playing loudly. Punctuated by your passionate cries. In some form of a miracle, you managed to miss every note, which Fanboy took as a sign that your heart was not truly broken and José José merely possessed you with the urge to put on the performance of a lifetime.

He slipped quietly into the flat. Taking his time to unlace his shoes, set down his bag, and softly clicked the door shut behind him. You were not alerted in the slightest. Too busy in the kitchen stirring and shouting, “Qué triste luce todo sin ti. Los mares de las playas se van.”

Every other line you would spin, working your feet through a quick box step with the occasional fling of your spoon when the emotion built. “Se tiñen los colores de gris. Hoy todo es soledad.” you stepped backwards, closer and closer to Mickey with your hips swaying in a way that made his uniform fit a bit too tight.

“Media naranja…” he let his voice trail off, soft enough for you to hear him. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt the moment with a spike of adrenaline. He’d tried his best, but he never was good at subtlety when it came to you.

“Holy fuck!” You let out a startled scream, hand coming up to clutch at your heaving chest. “Mickey, I thought I asked you to stop doing that.”

“Aw, mi vida,” he laughed, stepping closer to grab you by the hips and pull you close to him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You stick your bottom lip out at him in a pout. Far enough out that he can’t help the way his gaze lingers on it. “Don’t think you can kiss it better,” you tell him.

Fanboy hums. He brings a hand up to trail the back of his index finger down your cheek so that he can tilt your chin up a bit further. “Can’t I?” It’s fun to watch your reaction to the question, feeling the slightest strain against his fingers and you try to move closer to kiss him.

“Mickey,” you whine.

He closes the gap between you. “Mi cielo.” His voice is low, raspy. All his attempted teasing seems to take more out of him than you and he’d been away for far too long to let his moment draw out any longer. Fanboy cupped your cheek then pressed his lips against yours, filling in all the passion he’d left you without while he was away.

The last kiss he gave you before he’d left was quick. A domestic kind of peck married couples gave one another as they ran out the door for work. In a way, Mickey had convinced himself on the plane to Virginia Beach, that is exactly who the two of you were. You’d been together so long that being moved around from base to base wasn’t the heartbreaking news that it had once been but rather a fact of life the two of you had to live with. Still, it didn’t excuse the way Fanboy had let his own being late impact the last memory of him you were left with before he’d walked out the door. It was something he fully planned to make up for today.

His tongue ran over your bottom lip greedily. Mickey could, and had, memorized every corner of your mouth and it would never be enough to truly satiate him. The moment your lips parted for him Fanboy jumped on the opportunity to run his tongue along the side of yours. He moved with a confidence you had only ever been able to bring out of him.

You hum in satisfaction, fingers going to hook in the belt loops of his uniform. Sure of yourself. A goddess in control of his futile sense of humanity. Freedom and a prison all in one. There could be worse fates than being locked onto your lips for all eternity. Some Fanboy didn’t care enough to explore. Not when he had your body pressed against him and his lips bruised by the shape of yours.

“Mi cielo.” Mickey murmurs against your lips when he goes to take a breath. A kiss pressed to each of the corners of your mouth. “You have no clue what you do to me.” And then, as though you knew full well what you did to him, you slid your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him to your lips once again.

You’re the one to pull away after a few more blissful moments of kissing. Mickey expected you to be. Yet he still had to take a moment, pressing his forehead to yours, hand cupped around your cheek, with his eyes closed. If he had the choice, the two of you would be in the bedroom right now but you had been in the middle of cooking, and he was hard pressed to pull you away from a task once you’d begun. “I love you.”

Mickey doesn’t need to open his eyes to know there was a goofy grin on your face. “I love you more, darling.” The words brought a heat up the back of his neck, settling on his ears. Years into this relationship and you still could fluster him. Mickey opened his eyes, pressed one more swift kiss to your lips, then leaned back to look at you.

For a moment it felt like the two of you were plunged back into the moment of your first kiss. Two kids in love staring at one another with smiles of disbelief. Fanboy knew a part of him would always be stuck in that feeling whenever the two of you kissed. There was no conceivable explanation for how he got so lucky to be able to kiss you whenever he pleased. To be able to call you his everything.

“Mi vida, when I came in… is that really how you’d react in the case of an intruder?” He asked quietly in a poor attempt to cover a soft laugh. “Scream your head off first, figure out a way to fight later?”

You roll your eyes at him and, even in your moments of playful aggravation, Mickey can’t help the way his pulse quickens. He uses his thumb to trace hearts on your waist. A way

“I’m a pilot, mi sol. There’s a reason I do all my fighting in the air.”

“I can teach you to fight.” When you laugh, he pulls you tight to him. “I’m serious. It’s easy, mi vida, a lot like dancing.”

“I’m a horrid dancer,” you tell him. Mickey shakes his head. You have the tendency to be overtly hard on yourself, but he’d seen you when he had walked through that door. Stunning, if a little out of practice. He knew that if he were to tell you that you’d only dismiss the idea entirely claiming that he thought everything you did was stunning and, while you wouldn’t exactly be wrong, he didn’t want you to shy away from his next offer, “Dance with me?”

“Right now? I’ve got dinner on the stove.”

In a swift series of steps, Mickey had you clinging onto him so that he could position the pair of you right in front of the stove. He turned off the stove with a self-satisfied smile. For every excuse you’d planned to make, Mickey had already compiled a thousand reasons why not to worry. It’s how the two of you had always been. Fanboy had lived up to his callsign in more ways than one. He followed you everywhere fixing one problem or the next, easing your fears without you having to so much as ask. A love language, people would call it, but Mickey must have been the only person on earth who could speak it.

“You’re insufferable.” Your words make him grin. The radio starts up with a new song. “Tú” by Los Elegantes de Jerez, one of his favorites to request at the Hard Deck when Penny had live bands instead of just letting the jukebox play the same music over and over each night. He’d yet to convince you to come out and dance with him, but Phoenix was always willing. Otherwise he was more than content to dance on his own, throwing out flirtatious remarks to try and persuade you to join him.

He steps back just enough to take you all in. You let out a confused laugh.  “What?”

“¿Quieres bailar conmigo?”

“Mickey…”

“¿Quieres bailar conmigo, mi cielo?” He asks again with a bit more seriousness behind it and, when you don’t jump on the opportunity he adds, “Cocodrilo que duerme es cartera.”

“Fine, Mick. I’ll dance with-” You’re cut off with a squeak as Fanboy pulls you close. One arm wrapped tight around your waist, hand resting at the small of your back, and placed his left knee so that it rested against the inside of your right knee. It isn’t nearly as close as Mickey would like to be. He longed to crack open his chest and allow you to crawl inside to take residence in his heart so that the two of you physically portrayed Fanboy’s constant state of existence.

He brought his other arm up with your hand in his and waited patiently as you wrapped your arm around his neck. “Rest your weight into your hips.” He drags his gaze over your face, watching you calculate the right way to stand. Your analytical nature made him fall in love with you. The way your tongue would drag along your lips in deep concentration. It made it hard for him to remember what the hell he was saying in the first place. “The norteño means we have to keep our torsos connected.”

You settled your weight, pressing against him, and Mickey’s breath left him in a nervous exhale. “Not so confident anymore are we, Fanboy?” You laugh, and he ducked down slightly to press a kiss to the hollow beneath your ear.

“You make me crazy,” he said and started moving without giving you a warning. If he had told you to concentrate on the tempo you were bound to overthink and start lifting your feet instead of shuffling in wide arcs wherever Mickey led you. Once he was sure you weren’t going to stop him to start counting the beats he added, “we’re going to to step and swing our hips on each beat.”

Growing up his mother used to tell him how important it was to know how to dance. That it was the easiest way to find your other half that way. A perfect complement. Each move followed his lead. Right and then left. Two halves of a whole collapsed in an embrace Mickey never wanted to free himself from.

“Tú, solamente tú,” he sang into your ear with the fondness of someone discovering affection for the first time. A soulmate connected by the chorus of a song. “No necesito de nadie. Ni puedo dejar de mirarte.” You pressed against him, biting down roughly on your lip, and he could see the tender concentration as you counted in your head. “Hey,” he said, “eyes on me.”

Only, when you lifted your gaze to him, Mickey captured your lips in a tender kiss not once breaking step. These movements were second nature. Natural as ducking and dodging during a dogfight. He knew exactly where to let his smooth movements whirl him next. If he weren’t feeling so selfish, he might have included a spin just to hear your laughter. A sound as weightless as the way you moved against him. Mickey did not miss the way you playfully ground against him with each sway of your hips. The innocent confusion on your face while you watched his breath hitch. His hand stayed pressed to the small of your back. Drew you closer on each beat. Your hand on the base of his neck twirled the hair that needed to be cut before he went back. The gesture made him weak in the knees.

The song had finished minutes ago, but the two of you were still moving. He had been caught in the trance of your everything. Your smile, pulled back with mischievous joy; your eyes, how they lingered on his lips as he sang along; and your hands, how they clung to him even though he had no plans on letting you stray away from him during your dance.

He wanted to twirl the two of you out of this apartment. Take you to the Hard Deck. He wanted to call everyone on the Dagger Crew to the bar. Hell, he’d call anyone in off the streets to watch the two of you dance. Show everyone that you were his. Only he could draw this dreamy smile out of you. Only he could pull you out of your own head. Only he could love you like this.

You leaned forward to kiss him. “Thanks, darling. Can I finish dinner?” He relented. You, with great difficulty, managed to take a step back. Only to come back and kiss him with a ferocity that parted his lips almost immediately.

A different kind of dance began. Your tongue in his mouth, searching desperately for the words he had sung earlier. All you could pull out of him were gentle groans of pleasure. Mickey’s hands gripped at your waist. You were entirely in control. Each step forward led him backwards until he was pressed up against the counter.

Abandoning your hips, Fanboy moved his hands up to your hair. He had always learned in moments like this to let you believe that you could bring him to his knees. That thought might hold more truth to it that he cared to admit. But he could always slide his hands down to cup your face. Your weakness. He would tilt your head slightly, allowing him more room to slip his tongue into your mouth, and expose your neck enough for him to trail kisses downwards. So that when he did get onto his knees for you it was entirely of his own violation.

You noticed the change. You noticed everything when you cared to. “Mickey.” Your voice was muffled by his tongue tracing the shape of your bottom lip. “Mickey.” Once more he captured his own name and you had to pull away to say, “I have to make dinner.”

He sighed. “Do you?”

“Yes, I’m hungry.”

With one final peck he watched as you made your way back over to the stove. “I’ll have to make something more. I wasn’t expecting you today.”

There was no hint of annoyance in your voice. Fanboy could see you bite back a smile. He longed to turn you around to kiss you, but instead let you turn on the gas and stir the soup you’d been making humming José José.

“You do realize ‘El Triste’ is a breakup song, mi amor?” Mickey said, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulling you flush against him as you stirred the soup on the stove.

“When you’re gone I like to pretend I’m heartbroken.”

“And when I’m home?” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck. “What do you like to pretend when I’m holding you like this?”

He could feel the sigh work its way out of your chest. You flicked off the gas once more. “I like to pretend that we’ll get a chance to eat dinner, but…”

Mickey laughed. “But?”

“But,” you said, “I think we’re ordering in tonight.”

“Are we now?” You spin around to wrap your arms around his neck, grinding up against him, and pulling away with a smug smile. “Oh, mi ciela, vamos a bailar.”

[clericofshadows]

take me back to eden

Description: Post-ME2 prologue.  Hannah Shepard asks for a meeting with Kaidan.  They end up having a conversation far more productive than either of them imagined, and Kaidan contacts an old flame.

Paring: Male Shepard/Kaidan Alenko, Kaidan Alenko/Zaeed Massani, Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard/Zaeed Massani (past)

Notes: I wanted to write a conversation between Regis and his mother, but this happened instead.  I’ve only written in Regis’s POV so far, but this was a fun dive into Kaidan.

Kaidan stared at the glass, swirling it slightly to stir the ice and drink together before taking a sip.  Freshly brewed lemonade.  A surprising choice to have in an Alliance brass's office, but one he'd take over alcohol.

Because even though this conversation would be better with something stronger, he figured it would likely make things worse.

"How are you doing, Lieutenant?" Hannah asked, clasping her hands together on her desk.

"Been better, Admiral," he admitted.  The memory was still fresh on his mind.  Regis's last words continued to haunt him a month later.

He’s still on leave but getting closer to returning to duty.  It’s been long enough, even if he has more time to spend healing.  

Maybe getting back into the thick of things will help.

“Please don’t let it end this way, tell them I died on Alchera.  Please, not like this… not like… this.  Kaid–”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment.  "But I am healing.  Day by day."

"And sometimes that's all we can do," she said, taking a sip of her own lemonade.  "I never thought I would lose both my son and my husband while I still lived.  I know it's a lot coming from me, but even I'm here if you need it.  As the mother of your lover, and not a superior officer."

Surprised at how forthcoming she was, Kaidan tilted his head to the side.  "I appreciate that, ma'am.  I'm sorry for your loss."

She waved it off.  "We've all heard that bullshit phrase a thousand times.  Tell me how you really feel."

"Really?" Kaidan questioned, voice flat.

"This is an unofficial-official meeting, if you catch my drift." 

He figured it was since he still wasn’t officially back on the roster.

"Then, call me Kaidan."

"Do me the same courtesy and call me Hannah."

Kaidan took another sip of the lemonade.  Regis always liked lemonade.  Guess this is where he got it from.  "I'm angry at the Alliance.  I'm angry at all the events that led to us doing bullshit survey missions and strike teams on geth squadrons.  I'm angry that Regis left me with a request that I can't fulfill.  But all of it means nothing because I can't do a damn thing about any of it."

She nodded.  "I've tried everything to get them to do a survey to get his body, but nothing has happened.  Hell, Hackett has tried.  They're afraid of a similar attack or some bullshit." She took another drink, finishing off her glass.  "I was able to officially change how he died.  Explosion from the ship.  Still not what he would've wanted, but it's better nonetheless."

"You knew about that?"

She chuckled. "I deserve that.  Yeah, I knew.  It's something he confided in me during our weekly emails, not long after he enlisted.  Wanting me to pull my own weight to ensure he never died in space officially.  The one abuse of power he wanted me to do for him."

Kaidan knew that Regis had written conversations with his mother often, citing that it was the only way they could ever be civil.  He never really knew the contents, but he should not have been surprised to hear how cordial they were.  Maybe Regis's anger about his mother's overbearingness in his childhood influenced him more than he realized.

Regis influenced him in a lot of ways.

"Thank you.  I'm sure you've listened to the recordings."

"Yes." Her tone was clipped.  "Fuck, Kaidan,” she breathed out.  “How the hell did we lose someone like Regis goddamn Shepard."

He hadn't had many conversations with Hannah until now, meeting her in short bursts and over vid comms that were sparse.  This was clearly where he got his swearing habit from.

Regis goddamn Shepard indeed.

"I don't know." His voice broke a bit on the last word.  "I ask myself that question every day.  He managed to save both Williams and I in a blaze of biotic glory.  A fucking miracle.  But I wasn't able to convince him to get off the damn ship with me."

"For someone who embraced the Butcher title, he always had a heart of gold.  Always cared for those he trusted with a strong passion.  He would’ve stayed back to save every goddamn soul on that ship no matter what."

And that action killed him.  That golden heart he kept locked up tight for few to see got him killed.

Kaidan still can’t bring himself to answer Joker’s request to talk.

Because right now, there’s no way in hell he can be civil, as unwarranted that anger might be.

Still too fresh on his mind.  Still too painful to really think about.

He powers on, nevertheless.  

"You know he never wanted it."

"I know.  I was always so frustrated with him for not fighting back.  For accepting the burden.  I never hated him for making that decision; hell, I was proud of him for it.  It took balls to take that upon decision himself and ensure no one else got the fall from it.  No, I was angry that he let it wash over him, that he took the title and made it part of his Alliance career," she ranted, her hands balling into fists.  "And I never told him that.  And maybe that's because he never let me.  Fuck, I couldn't even push back against my own son."

Kaidan was there for some of the sleepless nights, the anguish in Regis's screams about the mission.  His nightmares that plagued him, the ghosts of his squad that died on his mission blaming him for their deaths.  

He was there when Regis got his squad’s old symbol tattooed on the back of his neck, and he was there when Regis painted the symbol on his armor, nearly breaking regs in the process.

He was there when Regis cried about his mother hating him for the decision.

"You should've," Kaidan said, voice hardened by old memories.  "I was there for the fallout.  You weren't.  And that had a larger impact on him than he'd ever wanted to admit."

She pressed her lips together in a hard line and glanced away from him.  He followed her gaze to a bookshelf where two frames stood at the top.  Two official Alliance portraits.  One of Regis, and one of Atlas.

"He got his stubbornness from Atlas, and he got his dislike of space from Atlas.  Regis got so many things from him, and I always mourned the fact that they never got to know each other.  I did many things wrong during his childhood, but I was too afraid to let him go.  I let Atlas go." She took a deep breath.  "He was always a pilot at heart but hated anything larger than a frigate."

Keeping Regis close because she couldn’t do the same for her husband… it explained a lot.

"Did Regis know that about you?" He asked, not changing his tone.

"He did, but knowing doesn't change anything."

Kaidan finished off his lemonade, pushing the glass away from him.  "No, I suppose it doesn't.  I know I have a skewed view of you thanks to him."

Hannah shrugged.  "And part of that is also on me.  But I know for a fact that you loved him with a fierceness that Regis respected the hell out of.  He never wanted to let you go the moment you two got together, and I'm happy he had someone like you fighting by his side."

Kaidan blinked a few times to try and drive off the tears that were trying to form.  "I was going to propose to him after the mission, but we never had the time to make a trip to my family's property.  I was going to call you and everything.  Had my dad's ring waiting for him in my bedroom.  Dad wanted me to give Regis the ring he got from Mom when she proposed to him."

"I would've tried my hardest to get there.  And I'm sure you knew the story behind the ring on his dog tags.  And now it's fucking lost.  The last thing Atlas wanted to happen to his ring and of course it happened.  Feels like I'm burying him twice now." She shook her head, her eyes shining with tears.  "Wish I got out the hard stuff for this conversation."

A sudden wave of nausea washed over him.  Not only did Regis not want to die in space, but also Atlas had similar concerns about that ring.  

A terrible fucking fate.  

For a moment, Kaidan wished he were back at Eden Prime.  Where things all began.  Where things could still be different.

“What do you think about hypotheticals?  Or going back and changing things?  Would you ever do it?”

“No need for that kind of bullshit imagining.  I live in the moment.  What happens, happens.”

Damn you, Regis.

"There's still time," Kaidan replied, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

She reached under her desk and pulled out two bottles of hard lemonade.  Again, one of the few things Regis actually enjoyed drinking.  "Not the strongest shit out there, but it's damn near the only thing I actually like."

Kaidan couldn't help but laugh.  "Regis would always say the same thing."

"No shit."

"It's true.  I always teased him about his taste in alcohol.  He bemoaned my expensive taste in whiskey. One of those things we could never agree on."

"Atlas loved whiskey as well." She smiled, twisting the cap off the bottle, taking a swig.  "I enjoyed hearing how Regis 'abused' his Spectre authority to protect your relationship onboard the Normandy."

"I joked to him about it not thinking he would actually follow through with it.  I haven't heard anything about repercussions."

"There won't be.  Alliance sees a major asset in you, and they will be scouting you and Williams as another 'Shepard,'" she said.

Kaidan opened his bottle and took a drink.  "So, this is what this meeting was really about."

"Partially," She admitted, "but also to talk.  Because you and I both needed it.  So, what are you going to do about it?"

"Do the one thing he's wanted me to do for years.  Become an N."

“Good, I was hoping you would say that.” Despite her reddened eyes and flushed cheeks, Kaidan saw how quickly she shifted back into Alliance mode. “How much did you know about Regis’s teaching program?”

“Lots, because I indirectly contributed to it,” Kaidan admitted. “Regis and I were unique in the sense that we learned our biotics together, so we picked up tricks that were no way standardized by the Alliance, but better than anything they’ll ever come up with.”

“So, you knew he was implementing new training programs for recruits and accelerated N programs for biotics?”

Regis always said Hannah was a better superior officer.  

“The new training programs, yes.  The accelerated N programs? No, tell me more.”  He leaned forward.  “Were there already accelerated N programs, but not tuned to biotics?”

“More or less.  You could do the typical training at the villa and the off-planet work.  It’s what Regis did, even though it was clearly not rated for biotics, not taking into account the differences in biology, metabolism, and general stability.  On the other hand, there’s a far less advertised route that’s all about mission work.  You’ll still do the first N training and become an N1, but after that, you’ll be scouted for specialized spec ops assignments.  Damn near suicide missions at times, but equivalent to the tests for N2-6.  N6 to N7 is gained the same way.  Basic gear, low oxygen, stranded on an asteroid.  Survive.”  Hannah explained.  

“Regis’s ideas gave different objectives to biotics in existing challenges, allowing them a better chance at not bottoming out too early and too soon.  He also advocated for a pure mission-based plan interspersed with other tasks.  Putting the recruit under short, but intense bursts of training, while also preparing the recruit to teach classes and squads of their own.  He also wanted full biotic spec ops teams.  Overall, less intense than N training, but in no way easier.  Difficult in a different way.”

Kaidan nodded, taking all the information in.  “And you want me to do what, exactly?” He asked.  “Am I going to be one of the first recruits?”

“Yes, but we also want you to finish what he started.  That in of itself will get you rising the ranks quickly.  I’ve seen your scores.  Regis won on the combat side.  You win on the biotic side.  Despite Regis’s aptitude with technology, I’d argue the two of you were damn near equal.  The numbers can go either way.”

“Don’t do yourself a disservice, Alenko.  You know damn well you spike higher than me, and you have better control.”

“Fair enough, but your programs have always stressed the limits of the Logic Arrest.  It’ll have to be a best two out of three to really figure out who’d win between us.  Results may vary.”

“It’s a date.”

Again, damn you Regis.

Too many fucking reminders.  They never did get that chance to test their mettle against each other in the combat sims…

Kaidan crossed his arms against his chest, furrowing his eyebrows.  “I see.  And Williams?”

“Normal N training, but I imagine she’ll speed through it,” she replied.  “What do you say, Kaidan?  Up for the challenge?”

“Yes.  But I’m not doing it just for him.  I’m not going to be another Shepard, and I’ll never be a Butcher in the same way he was.  If they want me, they’re getting Kaidan Alenko,” Kaidan said.

She smirked the same damn way Regis always would.  “I was hoping you would say that.  Good.  But never say never.  There will always be a mission that will define the type of soldier the Alliance will see you as.  I hope it’s not another Torfan.”  Her expression grew grim.  “The Alliance is going to do its best to mold you into a pseudo-Shepard and it’s sickening, but he did impossible things.  Of course they want another.” She shook her head.  “Stay true to yourself.  That’s all I ask.”

“I will.” It was an impossible promise, knowing what the future held, what Regis’s visions predicted.

He always admired Regis’s ability to take upon the hard choices without a second thought.  He could be ruthless, yes, but that never meant he didn’t care.

He had a goal in mind, and there were times he was going to do anything and everything to make it happen.

Hannah stood up and held out her hand.  Kaidan joined her and took it.  They shook hands before both falling into parade rest.  “I hope everything will work out, but we all know damn well that will never happen.  Good luck, Kaidan.  I wish you the best in your training.  Hackett will approach you later with more details.”

He knew a dismissal when he saw one.  “Thank you.  I’m glad we had this talk.  It… helped.”

And shed a lot of light on his newfound position.

Maybe he will be able to keep that other request Regis gave him.

“...Show the Alliance what you can do, and remember, make sure they know the Reapers are coming.”

“It did.  My door is always open to you, Kaidan.  Have a good rest of your evening.”

“Same to you.” He saluted, and she mirrored his action.

He walked out of her office and headed straight for the nearest rapid transit station.  

Back to his empty accommodations.  

Back to a bed without Regis.

Kaidan shook his head and adjusted his dress uniform as he stepped off the transit.  

A thought occurred to him.

It’s been some time since he messaged him.  Not since he informed him about Regis’s death and some honest truths about the matter.

Maybe it’s time he takes a moment for himself before he gets back in the game.

He activated his omnitool as he entered the apartment, closing the door with his foot, sending a quick message.  A moment later, a call request came up.  Despite everything, Kaidan smiled.

“I have a couple of days free.  Is it too selfish to ask for a moment of your time?  I’m on Arcturus, so it won’t be difficult to secure some transport.”

“Not during these days.  I was hoping you would ask. No point in being alone when you have someone who understands.”

“Where are you?”

“Not far from Vancouver, believe it or not.  Visiting an old friend.  Join me.  I have an apartment, a warm bed, and some expensive whiskey that Regis would’ve fucking hated.”

“Sounds like a date.”

“You’re goddamn right.  See you soon?”

“See you soon, Zaeed.”

Regis was the glue that brought them together back on Omega a few years ago.  

Kaidan wondered if they could forge something on their own, just for a moment.

Alliance soldier and a decorated merc.  

It could never work full time.

But for a few nights?

Kaidan yearned for it and yearned for more.

[just-dino-maggie]

Prompts List

“Honestly, I rather die than stay in the same room as him”

“What the hell are you doing in my house at 3 in the morning?”

“I can’t believe I have to do this work with him”

“You’re so fucking annoying! And- wait, are you hurt?”

“Why is it so hard for you to admit that I’m better than you?” “Who said it’s hard for me?”

“Are we…” “Friends?” “Yup, that was definitely what I was about to say”

“Are you guys dating?” “No, I hate him” “Really? Because he was praising you so much the other night” “He was what?” “Oh, so you care?” “No! I don’t, I couldn’t care less”

“Why do you guys hate each other so much?” “He’s just annoying” “She’s too damn pretty… I mean, boring”

“I know I’ve hurt you, but please, only for today try to understand me, I’m not asking for your forgiveness… well, kinda, but-” “You don’t need to ask that, I already forgave you a long time ago”

“I hate him, I definitely hate him, who does he think he is to kiss me after all he did?” “I know that wasn’t nice, but why are you so nervous right now? You could just pushed him away like always” “Because I’ve might liked it”

“I’m freaking out, at the beginning it was fun to tease her, but now it’s just scary, I am feeling things when she looks at me”

“Are they fighting again?” “Worse, they’re kissing”

“Sometimes I hate you so much that things get confused in my mind, like right now, I was almost pulling you in to a kiss”

“Things were easier when you hated me back”

“Not gonna lie, you angry actually makes me feel… hot”

“When you’re shut up I almost like you”

“Wait a minute, did you just choke on your whiskey because (Y/N) is dating that asshole?”

“Today was weird” “Super” “But I kinda liked it dancing with you”

“I know I shouldn’t, but I’m falling for you”

“You’re making me dizzy, and not because of the usual reasons”

“Love’s certainly more complicated than I’ve ever thought”

“Yesterday I realized I miss you”

“Why don’t you hate me anymore!” “cause every single good memory I have, you’re there”

“We should talk about what just happened” “I refuse to talk about how I just lost control and kissed you”

“You’re my motivation every single day”

“Dare me again, and I’ll break you off”

“I’ve never been in love with someone but you, always you.”

“What are you talking about? We’re best friends!”

“C’mon, what are you guys even talking about? We’re nothing more than friends” “Well, what was that kiss another day then?” “A friendship kiss…?”

“Are you… jealous?”

“Did you just kiss me?”

“One last thing before I go, you really didn’t notice all those signs I gave to you?”

“If I stay here tonight and sleep by your side again, I won’t be able to control myself, not today”

“You’ve always been more than a friend to me, I just didn’t had the courage to admit it, and now I’ve lost you”

“Do you remember? When we were twelve? We promised to marry each other, being honest, I always hoped you wouldn’t broke this promise”

“I think I messed things up, I’m not in love with her, I’m in love with (Y/N)”

“We should stop pretending” “Pretending?” “That we’re just friends”

“I want to ruin our friendship”

“We’re only friends, stop being a pain in the ass” “Well, he wasn’t talking about you as a friend yesterday” “He did what?”

“I don’t care about who’s she’s hanging out with, she can do whatever she wants” “Even if she’s hanging out with your archenemy?” “I beg your pardon?”

“So, for how long are we gonna pretend we don’t love each other more than friends?”

“You’ve been my best friend for all these years, and I’m really grateful for everything you did to me, but I can’t stay here watching you fall in love with someone else, because the truth is… I’m in love with you”

“Everytime I look at you I feel my heart breaking, because I need you, desperately, and you never notice”

“Am I an end-of-party love to you? ”

“Don’t cry, you don’t need to hide your feelings, I feel the same”

“Well, since we were kids I planned to marry you someday”

“I’ve been waiting forever to hear that”

“Sometimes I allow myself to imagine a future where we are together, a future where I can hold your hand and bring you closer and when I’d smile to you, you’d call me ‘love’, a future where I am more than a friend ”

“Yes, I’ll clean your mess once again, I’ll do it, but not because we are friends, because I am fucking in love with you”

“There’ll be a day where I’ll look at you and all this pain will be gone”

“Fuck, I’m sorry okay? But I can’t hide my feelings anymore”

“Did you just… wait, you love me?”

“Dance in the rain with you will always be my favorite thing in the world, cause in those moments, I feel like you love me back”

[actuallysaiyan]

Who Loves You(Madara Uchiha x Fem!Reader)

Word count: 858 Warnings: depression, general smuttiness, Madara being soft and dominating, creampie, vaginal fingering. Pairings: Madara Uchiha x Fem!Reader Summary: Madara went off on a mission after him and Reader had a fight, leaving her so depressed. She barely gets out of bed most days, but when he returns home, he shows her how sorry he is. A/N: For my dear friend, @hirothemetrosexo l, who I can't tag apparently.

It’s been weeks since you’ve seen Madara. Life was beginning to become bleak without your husband at your side. A deep depression was growing as every day, you repeated a similar cycle. Get up, eat something, walk around the village, get drunk… 

You wondered if Madara would ever return to you. You two had gotten into a nasty argument just before he left for his mission. You tried to plead with Hashirama to not let Madara go, but he had already sent the order for your husband to leave. This gave him the perfect opportunity to run away from his problems yet again.

This cycle gets worse as time goes on. You cry yourself to sleep almost every night. But one night, you find yourself filled with warmth as you lie down to sleep. Your eyes close and you dream of your husband.

The next night, you dream of him again. It hurts you but also comforts you. It’s a little bittersweet to see him while you were unconscious but you had a feeling that he might be coming home shortly. You really hoped he would, You longed to be by his side once more.

A few more nights go by, and one night, you don’t feel as cold in bed. You just about jump out of the bed when you realize that Madara has finally come home. He smirks when he sees just how worked up you are. Your cheeks are flushed from being so embarrassed about being startled by him.

“Kitten, it’s just me. I’m home.” Madara purrs, his hands coming to your torso to grip onto your breasts. You whine when he squeezes your breasts hard.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you say pathetically.

Madara chuckles darkly, “I haven’t been able to breed my wife successfully. Do you really believe I’d leave you?”

You sigh, “I suppose you wouldn’t. It’s just because we fought before you left.”

“That’s in the past, kitten. I’m here now and I want to show you how sorry I am.”

He rolls you over so you’re on your back on the futon. His hands are quick to remove your light nightdress. The sharingan activates as soon as sees your gorgeous nude body. He once told you that he’d gladly commit your naked body to his memory every single time he saw you like this.

His fingers soothe down your body, reaching your most intimate parts. You whine softly when his thumb rubs your swollen and aching clit. You’ve been missing him so much, and you found that using your own fingers on yourself just didn’t help. It would never feel as good as his fingers. He brings his hand to his face and with his teeth, he pulls off the dark gloves that adorned his hands.

“Are you ready for me, kitten? You seem awfully wet.” His fingers are teasing your soaked folds.

You huff, “I’ve been missing you so much. Please, Madara, I need you.”

Two of fingers slip into you and he clicks his tongue in annoyance, “now now, you know better than to call me that.”

Your eyes screw shut as he slowly pumps his fingers. You knew not to call him by his name when the two of you would be intimate, and yet it still slipped out because of how vulnerable you feel right now.

“Master, please. My cunt is aching for you.”

That’s all that needs to be said before he pulls his fingers from you and undresses himself. When between your thighs, he finds himself feeling a lot more relaxed. A few lazy pumps of his cock, and he’s lining himself up to slip into you. When he does, he’s almost at a loss for words.

“Such a tight little hole.”

Madara’s breeding kink kicks in and he begins pumping into you with meaning. All those little moans you let out are just like a little gift just for him. The Uchiha clan leader is more than pleased with the way you opened up just for him.

“You haven’t been touching yourself.” He grunts, pushing your knees to your chest to have you in the perfect mating position.

“I’ve been missing you too much.”

His thrusts are perfectly timed to get you off, and once you’ve cum, your walls milk him in the way he loves so desperately. You aren’t even sure how to react to the loud roar that falls from his lips as he spills his seed deep inside of you. It’s such a primal sound.

Soon, he’s slowing down and resting his head on your chest. You hold him close; your fingers run through his hair. Madara, ever so exhausted, just settles for enjoying this sweet affection coming from you. He opens his eyes and he smiles at you, something you don’t get to see often.

“I’m here now, my love. I won’t be leaving. You do not have to feel upset.”

These words, though maybe not the most romantic, are what make you feel more relaxed. You feel like you are loved.

And for tonight, your body and mind can rest easy knowing your husband is home.

[messers-moony]

King and Queen | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Fem!Potter!Reader, James Potter X Fem!Twin!Reader

Summary: James goes through a lot during his time at Hogwarts but his sister is always by his side.

Inspiration: Click

A/N: If this comes off insensitive to anyone please let me know and I will remove this.

James Potter was a handful. From the minute he was born, he had this gleam in his hazel eyes that raged and burned with trouble. His twin, Y/n Potter, was almost the opposite. The soft smile that laid on her features and the glitter of calamity in her eyes. Euphemia and Fleamont were in for a lot the minute their twins were born. 

Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder is most comparative to having a web browser up with one too many tabs. James had always been unable to focus and was naturally messy. Truth be told, he thought it was normal, just as everyone else did. It wasn’t until his second year at Hogwarts did he realize something was genuinely wrong with him. 

Remus told him that he had this muggle thing called “dyslexia,” which was a difficulty in interpreting words, letters, and other symbols. However, it never affected his overall intelligence because everyone knew that Remus Lupin was indeed and wholly brilliant. It got James wondering, did his inability to focus, be organized, and hyperactivity have a deeper meaning?

His twin - Y/n - was quite the opposite. She made quick friends with Remus, Sirius, and Peter, who were close friends of her twin. Y/n was top of their class, creating a friendly competition with Remus, but she was always able to focus. Often she would hyper-focus, which would leave her working for over five hours at a time without realizing it. In those times, James would have to snap her out of it. 

Over the summer, James expressed his concerns to his parents. He was talking about how this could be a real issue he’s facing using Remus’ dyslexia as an example. Eventually, they gave in, letting James go to a muggle doctor. James had to fill out a questionnaire that would come back with his results in one week. That week was probably the longest week of his life. Nonetheless, his test results had come back positive. 

Fleamont and Euphemia would be lying if they were surprised. After hearing about the disorder, it was almost the definition of their eldest son. Fortunately for James, the muggles had come up with a cure - no, not a cure - dammit, what was it again?

Impede the symptoms! That’s what those muggle pills do. James was required to take two pills a day, one in the morning and once at night. Y/n was in charge of making sure he did so because - more times than he’d like to admit - he would forget everything if it wasn’t for Y/n. 

In third year, James was as energetic as ever while getting on the Hogwarts Express, “Aren’t you excited, Y/n?!”

She chuckled, “Yes, but Merlin, you don’t need to literally jump with joy.”

“But I’m excited!”

“I know that.”

They made their way to the compartment that held Remus, who was reading a book. James sat in front of him while Y/n took her seat beside Remus, “‘Ello Remus.”

“Hey, Potter pair.”

Y/n sighed, and James groaned, “That nickname needs to go away.”

“I quite like it.” Remus stated smugly, “Suits you both.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Y/n accused falsely, “It means that wherever one of you are, the other isn’t that far behind.” Remus replied. 

James had zoned out already, and Y/n snapped in his face, “Take your pills?” 

“Forgot.” James muttered guiltily, “Oh Godric.” She whispered. 

“Pills?”

“James went to a muggle doctor this summer.”

Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Did you now?”

“Got diagnosed with ADHD.” James informed, and Remus looked amiss, “Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of that.” Remus said, and James smiled sheepishly, “I feel kinda odd, like out of place.”

“Why?”

“Dunno, just, why can't I be normal?”

“You are normal, James.” Y/n reassured, “And anyone who says differently obviously doesn’t care about you.”

The compartment door slammed open, “Who doesn’t care about who?”

Remus snorted, “Ever the dramatics, huh, mate?”

“‘Course.” Sirius flopped down beside James, “It comes with my charm and devilishly good looks.”

“Ah, yes.” Y/n said, chuckling, “Don’t you see how I’m swooning for you?”

The back of her palm was against her forehead, “Come off it.” James swatted at her and then elbowed Sirius, “Better not make my sister swoon.”

Sirius chuckled and shrugged, “Can’t help it. I’m just that irresistible.”

The four of them laughed at Sirius’ dramatics and continued talking about the new term. Remus and Y/n were talking about books they couldn’t wait to read. Remus was even kind enough to gift her some muggle books he bought over the summer holiday. Sirius and James bickered about what pranks to do this year, along with which ones were better. 

Third-year was fun. It was a year of flooding corridors, turning Slytherin robes red and blasting music in the common room after a Gryffindor victory. James was a brilliant Quidditch Chaser, and Y/n was a fantastic Seeker. Nothing was quite like the Potter pair. Something about them was just unforgettable. 

Maybe that’s why Sirius was so fond of her. Something about the Potters made people around them smile on the hardest of days. They made sure that every moment was a night to remember. Every memory was worth reliving. So adventurous, so reckless, yet so kind and loving. 

By the time fifth year rolled around, Sirius Orion Black had fallen off a cliff into a lake called love. Sirius completely submerged himself in love for Y/n Potter. The younger twin by just 20 minutes, but something about her was so divine. Was it her silk and glittering h/c hair? No - maybe it was her gleaming e/c eyes. Perhaps it was for her strive for adventure and extreme kindness. 

Nonetheless, Sirius fell hard.

And who better to tell than James Potter himself?

Causally - as usual - Sirius opened the door to the Marauders dorm. It was empty aside from the brunet boy with glasses on the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes were focused on a textbook - Potions textbook - maybe it was to impress Lily. Sirius couldn’t care less, so he pulled the chair out in front of the desk and sat before James. 

“Mate, I need your help.”

“Running from Filch?”

“No. Something- Something worse.”

“Something worse?” The textbook shut loudly.

Sirius nodded, “Way worse.”

“Alright then, come into my office.” James teased, and Sirius grinned. 

It was silent, “I’m in love with your sister.”

James sputtered, “Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with Y/n.”

“No, no.” James waved his hand horizontally, “I heard you.”

“Then what else would you like me to say?” Sirius asked. 

“Literally anything else.”

“Sorry, mate.” Sirius muttered, “I- I really didn’t mean to.”

James chuckled and wiped his hand across his face, “I suppose you can’t really stop love, huh?”

“You really can’t.” Sirius agreed, “I tried. I promise I tried.”

“It’s not that big of a deal late.” James assured, and Sirius looked at him with wide eyes, “I trust you just-“

“Just?”

“I’m worried about her.” James completed, “I- I worry about her every night.”

Sirius softened, “It’s like you with Regulus-“ James continued before Sirius could interject, “And don’t pretend. Your silencing charms are bloody terrible.”

“I know you still care for Regulus, you worry about him every night, and I do the same for Y/n, except my silencing charms are better.” James teased sightly, “I trust you, Sirius. You’re the brother I never got but always wanted. You know, the brother I can play Quidditch with, rough around with, the brother who’s just as sneaky and mischievous as I.”

“But Y/n is still my blood. She's my twin, my best friend, my partner in crime. She was the mind behind my pranks before Remus.” James elaborated and then smirked, “Remus and Y/n make a great team, ya’ know?”

“They are quite brilliant.”

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, take care of her?” James looked like the eleven-year-old boy again, “Don’t make her a fling and don’t make this temporary.”

“Y/n is a strong woman, and she isn’t for weak men. I’ll be honest,” James chuckled, “She doesn’t need a man. She doesn’t even really need me. I need her more than she needs me. Regardless, take care of her. She deserves a man worthy of her. Someone that’ll get her ice cream at 4 a.m. because she’s craving it. Someone that’ll go on sporadic trips with her. Someone that’ll understand that after a hard day, all she wants is a book and coffee.”

Sirius was appalled; he’d never seen James look so passionate, “Growing up, mum always told me to be a gentleman. I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but she always raised me as one. To hold a door for them, push and push in their chairs for them, give them my jacket even if I’ll freeze.” 

“Those kinda things. Dad said I should practice on Y/n, and I did. From then, Y/n always got treated like a queen, and she deserves no less. I won't lie, my parents treat me like a king too, and I don’t want any less either.” James explained, “Be the king that’s worthy of my sister.”

“That’s all I ask of you.”

Sirius nodded, “I’d be honored to serve her as my queen.”

“And if you show her no less, she’ll spit you out like chewing gum.”

He shuttered, “I hate how accurate that phrase is.”

James laughed, “I know her more than you think.”

By sixth year they were dating. Sirius would be lying if he wasn’t eternally shitting himself when Y/n said yes to going to Hogsmeade with him, alone, as a date. In fact, James almost wanted to throw him a party for finally not being a little bitch and asking out his sister. This party consisted of a bottle of firewhiskey and chocolate because that’s all that was in the boy's dormitory. But a party nonetheless. 

When Lily rejected James for the last time before graduation, he was utterly heartbroken. He’d spent and dedicated seven years of his life to this gorgeous woman. Despite all his efforts and all his charms, she still wasn’t interested. James tried. He really tried. He wanted Lily so bad. His heart broke when she said her final words of goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Potter. Maybe in another life, just not this one.”

Tears had ebbed at the corner of his eyes as he made his way back into the castle from the Black Lake. In the common room, where he felt like he had just got dowsed in water. James made his way to the girl's dormitory. His hand curled into a fist and knocked lightly on the wooden door. Shuffling was heard from the other side, and the door finally opened, revealing his sister. 

Without warning, James crashed into her arms, forcing his nose in the crook of her neck, “Woah.”

“Are you okay, James?”

His body shook with sobs as he shook his head no, “It’s okay. Let’s go lay down, okay?”

Gently she led him to her bed. He curled up beneath the navy blue comforter and placed his head on the silk pillow sheets. If he tried hard enough, he could forget the way Lily’s hair smelt today or the way her green eyes glistened in the sun. Now engulfed in his sister's scent, trying to remove every feeling for Lily possible, he dug his nose deeper into the comforter. 

Y/n sat beside him, her back to the headboard, and ran her fingers through James’ already untied hair, “What's got you so worked up?”

“It’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“L- Lily and I.” James choked, “She- She really doesn’t want me.”

A new wave of tears overcame him, and Y/n continued to try and soothe him, “Well, she’s a tosser.”

James narrowed his eyes, “James, you know I love her. She's my best friend, but if she can’t see what’s right in front of her, then she’s an idiot.”

“Can I- Can I stay here tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay at your dorm?” Y/n questioned, “Because you know who sleeps here.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Till the end.”

After a couple of minutes, Y/n and James made their way down the steps to the boy's side. They walked up more steps and finally made it to the boy's dormitory. James collapsed on his bed in the left corner of the room, and Sirius perked up at seeing his girlfriend enter the room. 

“Whatcha doin’ here, love?”

“Staying with my brother.”

Sirius nodded and stood up to hug her, gently pecking her forehead, “If you guys need anything, let me know, ‘kay?”

“Thanks, Siri.” 

Gently Y/n pulled back the maroon curtain and sat down beside him again. James reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. Something they used to do as kids. When a thunderstorm would go by, James would always seek sanctuary in his sister's comfort. 

He fell asleep that night, knowing he was safe, loved, and knew that someone cared about him. Even if Lily didn’t love him, at least someone else did. He had his boys, and he had his sister. Right now, that’s all he needed beside him: Screw Lily and her idiot decision skills. Y/n was right; she was a complete tosser. 

When Hogwarts was over, James and Y/n got a flat together. Sirius, Remus, and Peter got one only a floor above. Realistically this wasn’t the plan. James always planned to buy a house with Lily, but he was still healing, and after everything going on, it was vital for him to hold his sister close to him.

Euphemia and Fleamont barely lived to see their children graduate. Not too long afterward had died due to the horrid dragon pocks. It devastated both twins and Sirius. While Sirius wasn’t their true child, he very well could’ve. Euphemia noticed Sirius’s lingering stares on Y/n and the loopy smile that graced his features.

She was the one who got Sirius to man up. She was the one who gave him advice. She was the one who told him what books were her favorite, which chocolate she liked the best, her favorite quills. Euphemia was one of the main components in getting Sirius to date her daughter, and when it finally happened, the parents couldn’t have been happier.

James’ ADHD still remained even in his adulthood, making regular everyday tasks much harder and twice as long. Most of the time, the pills were able to help him complete those tasks. But sometimes, when Y/n wasn’t there to remind him, he would miss his days. When Y/n got home from work, she had barely taken off her shoes to see the apartment spotless.

It was a pleasant surprise, but James was never really one to clean, not that she really minded, but the apartment didn’t have a speck of dust on it. Hesitantly she put her keys on the island along with her bag.

“James!”

“Yes, Y/n?”

He appeared in the kitchen where Y/n was, “Um, did you clean the apartment?”

“Yes, I did!” James nodded enthusiastically.

Y/n sighed and gave her brother a sweet smile, “What did you not do today?”

“So, you know how you told me to go to the pharmacy?”

“Mhm.” Y/n nodded, “Indeed I do.”

“Well, they were out of my meds.” James informed, “I have to wait a week.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

“On the bright side!” James was already causing her a headache, “It’s gonna be a fantastic week! I’ve got so many things planned for us! We’re gonna go-“

James continued to ramble as Y/n grabbed her keys, bag and slipped back on her shoes, “I’m going to Sirius’!”

“Thought you were my sister.” James faked pouting, and Y/n smiled, “I love you, but you’re crazy.”

“I love you too!” He yelled as she closed the door.

[whumpsday]

Damned Part 1

Next

content: demon carewhumper (caretaker/whumper combo), reluctant whumper, implied future pet whump, torture / past torture, itching

-

Whumpee's eyes cracked open at the appearance of the demon. A new one. He felt a vague sense of relief at the fact that he'd been reassigned yet again. The last one had been especially fond of burns, one of the worst tormenters he'd had so far in his eternal damnation. Top three for sure.

This new one could always be worse, though. And even if they weren't, they were still going to hurt him. He looked up fearfully, awaiting the inevitable. More pain. Always more pain.

"Heya. I'd say nice to meet you, but I'm sure the pleasure's all mine." The demon cracked their knuckles. "Alright, let's see what we're working with." With a flick of their wrist, what appeared to be an indecipherable block of symbols appeared in front of them. Whumpee had seen it a couple times, and from context determined it must essentially be his "file". Only a couple of demons assigned to him had bothered to even glance at it.

The demon frowned. Whumpee shivered in fear, that couldn't be good.

"This can't be right." the demon muttered. They swiped at the symbols and they changed into to different ones. The demon's eyebrows shot up. "Three appeal denials? What the hell is going on here?"

The demon stopped muttering to themself and turned to Whumpee. He flinched under their scrutinizing gaze.

"You shouldn't be here." they said matter-of-factly.

"I'm... sorry?" Whumpee replied. He was no stranger to the words, often screaming them while begging for mercy, but he wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for.

"No, it's not your fault. Ha, never thought I'd say that to a damned soul." They laughed like they'd said something incredibly funny. "You killed one guy, in self defense. You shouldn't be down here. I'm submitting a motion to have your damnation appealed."

Whumpee could cry. Did this mean it wouldn't be forever after all? It would be over? "Thank you, thank you!"

"Don't thank me yet. Honestly, it'll probably just get denied again. Seems like someone with some sway really doesn't like you. Or maybe they like you a little too much."

Whumpee deflated. He should have known better than to get his hopes up at this point. He hadn't even been aware that three appeals had already been attempted for him until now, but it seemed he was just doomed.

"Hey, if it does, I'll still try and get you sorted. I've got a few favors I can pull, I'll work something better out for you even if it isn't going upstairs." the demon promised.

Whumpee wouldn't count on it. He didn't want to keep hoping for an end to the torment that would never come. But...

"Does that mean you're... not gonna torture me?" Whumpee asked hopefully. He would do anything to be able to just rest.

Much to his disappointment, the demon shook their head. "No, I still gotta torture you until I can get this sorted out. It's the job." Their voice softened. "I'll go easy, alright? I'll pick something that doesn't hurt, and you can have breaks every few hours. How's that sound, huh?"

Whumpee nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you." he repeated. He wasn't sure how to reconcile the concepts of torture and doesn't hurt, but he could definitely latch onto breaks. Not many demons were merciful enough to allow such a thing.

Suddenly, his whole body erupted in, for once not pain, but itching. He vaguely remembered something from his life, so long ago that it felt more like a dream than a memory. Poison ivy. It was like that, but a million times worse and everywhere.

Whumpee immediately tried to scratch, of course, but found himself unable to. Every attempt seemed halted by some sort of mental block that caused his hands to still just before he could reach his skin. He writhed on the ground, desperate to relieve the feeling.

"Come on now, this is about the mildest thing I could pull from the catalog and still call torture. This is better than hurting, right?" the demon chided.

"Yes, s-sir." Whumpee squeaked out, on the verge of tears. As much agonizing discomfort as he was in right now, it was still better than the pain. Anything was better than the pain.

The demon sighed. With a flourish of their hand, a bench grew out of the ground, and they sat down. "C'mere." They patted the spot next to them.

With some effort, Whumpee managed to crawl over. The demon helped him up onto the bench, placed his head in their lap, and started gently scratching him. Relief. It was barely anything, his whole body felt like it was on fire, but he was grateful for any scrap of mercy.

"Just a couple hours until your first break, yeah?" the demon assured.

Whumpee whimpered pitifully, leaning into their touch desperately. He just wanted the horrible feeling to go away.

The demon smiled. "Aww, you're cute. If they deny the appeal again, I'll try and see if I can get you reassigned as my pet. That way you'd just stay with me, forever. You'd like that, huh?" they asked, scratching at his scalp affectionately.

"Yes, sir." Whumpee breathed. He wasn't sure what that meant and was too afraid to ask. Being a demon's pet truthfully sounded terrifying, but could it really be worse than his current situation, eternal damnation? Could anything possibly be worse?

-

if you want some much more intense no-mercy hell whump then i highly recommend whumpshaped's new Devil Hot series!

drabble taglist:

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 9

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky brings you and Mackenzie with him to an important meeting.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Uhhhh hmm work tension, sexual tension, idk Bucky and Mackenzie being annoying as usual lmao

A/N: ALSO I know I haven’t mentioned what the fuck Bucky’s company is all about because c’mon, I didn’t expect I’d get this far lmao so IDK there might be continuity issues or inaccuracies or whatevah, just ignore it lmao it’s fiction. ANYWAAAY, I just want to say how GRATEFUL AND OVERWHELMED I am with the amount of attention that this series is getting. I appreciate every feedback, every ask and every freaking debate about this shit lmfao. I love you guys. I can’t put into words how much I appreciate you all askcnasjkcnak bye

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Don't let Bucky or Mackenzie get to you.

Mark's advice rang in your ears like a chant as you watched Bucky and Mackenzie's exchange about the project. Joining them in the conference room for a major brainstorming session was you and a couple of people from your team with Beverly taking down the minutes of the meeting.

The upcoming project was a huge one, given that Barnes Group of Companies was a huge name in the automobile industry. Meanwhile, Wilson Enterprises is one of the biggest autonomous vehicle technology companies out there. This partnership was one for the books, possibly an industry changer too.

You wanted to be a part of it, wanted to spearhead the entire thing and watching Mackenzie take the reigns on this one was truly making your blood boil.

"That sounds like a nice idea, Kenzie." Bucky praised, nodding his head.

Mackenzie shrugged, "It's what I do, Buck." she said.

"Yeah, it's a great idea. I do have some comments though, if you don't mind?" you asked.

Bucky and Mackenzie exchanged glances before turning to you. You glanced at Bucky for a quick second before ignoring the way he was eyeing you with genuine interest.

"I know that bringing in a celebrity to endorse this brand new model would definitely create noise around the partnership. Although I think that would take the spotlight away from the actual product we're creating here. We want customers to focus on the brand new car model and the technology that Wilson Enterprises will be providing it with, not on the celebrity endorser." you explained.

Mackenzie hummed, "I get where you are coming from. That's a good point, actually. But a celebrity endorser will pretty much do everything for the brand. Have him up on billboards and different advertisements and you're all set." she further explained.

You chuckled, "But then how will people understand what the entire partnership is all about? Aren't we supposed to be communicating a certain message to our consumers? Wouldn't it be better to hold an event to launch the product instead? Invite the press and key opinion leaders to spread the word. Have Bucky and Mister Wilson talk about this partnership. They're famous and powerful enough to get the message across. Why waste the budget on a celebrity when we literally have everything we need to make noise?" you shrugged.

The entire room was silent after your feedback, even Mackenzie wasn't able to respond to your suggestion. Glancing over at Bucky, you saw that he was giving you the look-- the one with half-lidded eyes matched with a head tilt, the one that often resulted to him giving you a very nice reward once office hours are over.

Feeling your breath hitch in your throat, you quickly looked away and shrugged your shoulders, "I mean, that's just my two cents. Having worked here for years, I just based it on my experience. You're the expert here, Mackenzie." you offered a proud smile.

Mackenzie tried to brush it off and turned to Bucky, "What do you think, Buck? I'm still into the idea of hiring a celebrity. That's good publicity. And let's not get worried about the budget now," she said, placing a hand on top of Bucky's that was resting on the table, "I have a lot of connections so I can definitely get an endorser for a much lower rate." she reassured.

"We may have a huge budget for this, but that doesn't automatically mean that we have to use it all up. We can allocate it somewhere else, maybe start a CSR campaign as well? We are, after all, coming out with an environmental-friendly model." you suggested.

You heard Bucky when he took a sharp inhale, bringing his hands up to rub his lips as if in deep thought. He then turned to Beverly, however, his eyes remained on you.

"Take note of everything she says." he reminded her before standing up.

He asked everyone else in the room of their opinions, whether it was your or Mackenzie's idea that the company will go for. The team was divided in half, some of them preferring Mackenzie's celebrity pitch probably because they didn't want to do a lot of work.

Bucky nodded, "Well, I guess we'll have to discuss both ideas with my partner Sam and let's see where we will go from there. I have a meeting with him this afternoon, I need you and Kenzie with me there." he said, looking at your before turning to Kenzie with a charming smile.

Don't let them get to you.

-

You've never wanted for the ground to swallow you up until this moment as you stood behind Bucky and Mackenzie in the elevator. This felt so much more uncomfortable than when you shared it with Bucky after swiping right with him on Tinder. There was still tension and it felt so much worse now because you didn't know whether it was between you and Bucky or him and Mackenzie.

Fucking Mackenzie and her nicely manicured nails which always seemed find its way around Bucky's arm. You eyed her hands as they squeezed his arm, the both of them talking in hushed voices as if you weren't standing behind them.

"I've been dying to try this restaurant, I heard they serve good food. Do you want to go have dinner there sometime this week?" she asked Bucky.

"I'll check my schedule, which restaurant is this?" he asked.

When Mackenzie uttered the name of that restaurant where you celebrated your promotion, you and Bucky choked on your own spits at the same time. Warmth crept up to your cheeks at the same time Bucky's ears reddened.

"Oh, what's going on?" Mackenzie asked with a nervous chuckle as she looked at you and Bucky, struggling with your coughs.

You recovered first and shook your head, "Sorry, I get allergies. Anyway, I've been to that restaurant. They do serve good food, the staff was very hospitable as well. I'm sure Bucky would enjoy it there." you said with a smile, pushing your way past them when the elevators door slid open.

Mackenzie asking Bucky whether he was up for dinner was the last thing you heard. Good luck explaining to her why he's banned from there, you thought to yourself.

Bucky led the way to his car and it instantly brought certain memories back. You weren't going to lie, you missed the fucking and how Bucky always made sure to take care of your needs. Seeing his car was enough to make your thighs clench at the memory of him fingering you as he drove.

His gaze was on you when he opened the door to the passenger's seat, his eyes inviting as you approached him. And just as when you were about to slip in, he turned over to Mackenzie and gestured for her to get in.

What a fucking asshole, you thought to yourself as you took a step back to ride in the back instead. You tried to keep your expression stoic when you saw that Bucky checked for a reaction. He seemed perplexed when he saw that you didn't react that much to what he did.

One hundred points to Gryffindor.

-

The location for the meeting was at a nearby restaurant so you didn't suffer that much during the entire ride. Mackenzie was busy with her phone anyway, typing out messages with those manicured fingers you were beginning to hate.

By the time all three of you arrived, Sam was already there. He donned a navy blue suit and he was rocking it. You'd seen his photos on the internet and knew that he was good-looking, but seeing him in the flesh, you were stunned at how gorgeous he was. Sam stood up when he saw Bucky, offering a kind smile to you and Mackenzie.

You weren't sure whether you were just being assuming or what, but you noticed how his eyes lingered on you longer that it did with Mackenzie.

"Sam." Bucky greeted, shaking his hand before introducing you and Mackenzie.

Sam shook Mackenzie's hand first before he turned to you. You took his hand and introduced yourself, "Mister Wilson." you said.

"Please, just Sam." he told you as he gently squeezed your hand before letting go.

"Have a seat." Sam said to Bucky and Mackenzie before pulling out the chair next to him, motioning for you to sit down.

You thanked him and sat down; straightening up, you were met with Bucky's watchful gaze as he sat down across you. Your attention was taken away when Sam asked what you wanted to order, he even suggested a certain dish and immediately went to discuss that it was his favorite thing to order.

This was going to be an interesting meeting.

And interesting it truly was, because you didn't expect for Sam to be so laid-back and easy to communicate with. He wasn't one of those uptight CEOs who were very intimidating to work with. Simply put, he was the complete opposite of Bucky. While Bucky was ice cold, Sam was sunshine and warmth with his attitude.

When it came down to pitching your and Mackenzie's ideas to him, you suddenly got nervous. Sam wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth; from what you've read, he started off working regular jobs before he climbed his way to the top. He was a self-made man and he had extensive knowledge in the marketing industry, having a doctorate degree in the said area.

Mackenzie was the first to discuss her strategy about hiring a celebrity endorser. She said it was fast and straight to the point. When it was your turn, you started off a bit shaky but eventually found your pacing.

"We wanted to ask you how this should go on about. I know that the offer for a partnership came from our end and that we're supposed to pitch the details for it. But we wanted you to be involved in this as much as we are." Bucky further explained.

Sam nodded and let out an amused chuckle, "I really appreciate this, Buck. I was going to ask you if I can contribute with the planning as well. I'm very particular when it comes to marketing our products." he said.

"That being said, I loved both ideas. I think hiring a celebrity endorser is good." he said, making Mackenzie smile proudly.

"But I would rather hold an event to launch the product. You understand the product and what we want to do with it. It's not just a brand new car, it's an innovation and the messaging is very important. I'm very impressed." Sam said, his attention geared towards you.

"Wow, I'm honored." you laughed. "Coming from you, I mean I've read about the marketing studies you did. Pretty big deal to receive a compliment from you." you admitted.

It was meant to be a genuine reaction, really. You had no ill intentions for it, you didn't do it to make Bucky jealous or get the upper hand. However, your passion for your career and area of expertise seemed to favor you. It had Bucky on edge, seeing you and Sam get along so well.

You didn't even need to check for Bucky's reaction because he simply cleared his throat and excused himself to go to the restroom. Mackenzie seemed unbothered though, when Sam favored your pitch over hers. You couldn't read her, sometimes she'd come off competitive but right now, she was unaffected.

When Bucky got back, he was quick to finalize the meeting, "I guess it's a done deal then. We'll work on the details of the launch and maybe we can set another meeting for the major presentation for your approval?" he asked Sam.

"That sounds like a plan. I'm looking forward to working with you." Sam told everyone, although he did seem to be directly addressing you.

"Alright, I'm leaving too." Mackenzie announced after Sam left the restaurant.

"Oh, you're not heading back to the office with us?" Bucky asked.

Mackenzie shook her head, throwing her bag over her shoulder, "I have another meeting. You know how it is with freelance work." she said as all three of you stood up to head outside of the restaurant.

"My Uber's here, I guess I'll see you both sometime this week." she said and waved at you before turning to Bucky and pressing a kiss on his cheek.

"I'm counting on that dinner, okay?" she reminded before slipping into her Uber, leaving you and Bucky to head back to the office together.

Alone with Bucky. In his car. The exact same car where plenty of fucking happened. Again, you chanted Mark’s advice in your head over and over again.

Don’t let Bucky get to you. And most of all, don’t cave in.

You quickly slipped inside the front seat of Bucky’s car before he could even open it up for you. The air was thick between you and Bucky and it almost felt like it was suffocating you. Reaching for the seatbelt, you tugged at it but it wouldn’t budge. Cursing to yourself, you tried again but to no avail.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked.

“Nothing. Seatbelt’s just stuck.” you grunted, using both your hands to pull down at it.

“Here, let me.”

Suddenly, Bucky reached over to your seatbelt and tried to fix it. His face was inches away from yours and you literally felt your insides jump at how you were immediately drowned in his perfume. If you moved forward so much as half an inch, your lips would already be pressing against the corner of Bucky’s mouth. And that thought was sending your senses into overdrive.

Do not. Cave. In.

The loud click of the seatbelt made you relax and thank goodness that Bucky was quick to move away from you, fixing his suit before starting the engine. The office may just be nearby but the fact that you and Bucky were together was making it feel like it was going to be an hour-long drive.

“So what do you think about Sam?” Bucky asked out of the blue.

He was gauging you, trying to get a reaction from you. Maybe he was expecting you to be flirty with your response, or be defensive even? You weren’t going to give him that.

“I think he’s great. Like I said, I’ve read his marketing studies and they were very insightful. I learned a lot.”

Plain, simple and safe. There was no hidden meanings and no malice; you were doing great at this whole not letting Bucky get to you thing. You made a mental note to thank Mark for his advice.

“He seems interested in you.” Bucky said again, shrugging his shoulders a bit and trying to be as nonchalant as he could.

“Well we are in the same field of expertise and I was very straightforward about admiring his skills. I’d be disappointed if he brushed off my ideas.” you slightly chuckled.

“I liked Mackenzie’s idea better, honestly.” Bucky blurted out.

By this time, you had Bucky’s plans figured out. He was coming for your job, using it as a bait to get a reaction out from you. He knew how much your career meant for you, how competitive you were in your field. Whenever his other tactics wouldn’t work, he’d always go for the career aspect.

“It was good.” you agreed, turning to Bucky with a small smile. “I think we can do that for other campaigns. Just not with this partnership. I like her.” you said.

“You do?” Bucky asked in surprise before he cleared his throat upon realizing that he sort of broke his facade.

You shrugged, “She’s a headstrong woman. She reminds me of myself actually.”

If you were alone, you would have given yourself a high-five because that statement truly made Bucky think. His forehead creased as he drove, his hand rubbing his chin and his jaw clenching as if he was in deep thought.

It was silent inside the car for a brief moment, before it was interrupted by the trilling of Bucky’s phone. He fished it out of his pocket but before he could even answer it, it slipped out of his hand and disappeared beneath his seat.

“Fuck.” Bucky cursed, both his hands on the steering wheel as he continued to drive, his attention divided between driving and searching for his ringing phone.

“Shit.” he hissed again, not knowing how to get his phone while driving. He quickly glanced at you before focusing on the road again. “Baby, can you get it for me?”

You almost missed the term of endearment. Almost. It was obviously a slip of the tongue because he genuinely didn’t seem to realize that he called you that. Bucky was more focused on the road rather than processing what he just said. You chose to ignore it the same way you did to the butterflies that erupted in your stomach.

“Yeah, okay.” you said and reached over to him, bending down to look for his phone.

In a split second, your face was right in front of Bucky’s crotch as you tried to reach beneath his car seat. You tried to ignore the bulge that was staring right at you and let your hand do the searching.

“Can you reach it?” Bucky asked.

You straightened up, “No. Can you pull aside?” you asked.

Bucky checked the surroundings and then the rearview mirror, “We can’t. We’re at a no loading and unloading zone.” he explained.

The phone continues to trill and it doesn’t seem like it would stop any time now. You sighed and removed your seatbelt before stretching your body over Bucky, slipping underneath his arms on the steering wheel so you can fully reach under his seat.

From another car’s view, you looked like you were giving him a blowjob. Not that you haven’t done that before, in this same car.

Finally, you felt his phone at the tip of your fingers and stretched further, your free hand coming to grip Bucky’s thigh unintentionally. It was only when you felt his muscles flex beneath his trousers that you realized how near your hand was to his crotch.

“Did you,” Bucky cleared his throat. “Did you get it?” he stammered.

You still have a certain effect on him, how very nice. Biting back a smirk, you hummed in response before pulling back and then handing him his phone casually. Mackenzie’s name was flashing on the screen as the phone continued to ring.

“Sorry, can you answer it and put it on speakerphone?” Bucky asked again.

You shrugged and did as you were told, holding the phone near Bucky as he continued to drive.

“Hey, Kenzie. Sorry, I dropped my phone. What’s up?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, so my meeting got cancelled at the last minute. I was thinking maybe we can grab that dinner tonight instead?”

Bucky stole a quick glance from you but your face remained stoic, your hand steady as you held out his phone.

“Sure, how does around 7pm sound? I can pick you up.” Bucky offered.

“Sounds great. So are we checking that restaurant I was talking about?”

Bucky’s ears turned red again but he quickly recovered, “I was thinking of trying out a different one. I honestly didn’t like their dessert.”

Huh, that was weird. You and Bucky didn’t even make it to--

Fuck, he was talking about you, you realized. Clenching your jaw, you tried to keep calm. He was trying to get a rise out of you, don’t give in. Don’t react. Bucky’s conversation with Mackenzie didn’t last long and ended when they settled the location for their dinner.

The ride back to the office was quiet again, until your phone lit up from a notification. Bucky was already parking in the basement when you checked your phone, an audible gasp slipping past your lips upon reading the notification from LinkedIn.

Samuel Wilson wants to connect with you.

-

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag @weird-mumbling @propertyofpoeandbucky @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @mostly-marvel-musings @squishybabies @megzdoodle @suchababie @annathesillyfriend @xhollycowx @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @5-seconds-of-mendes @gogolucky13 @countonthesun @iloveshawnieboi @learisa @borikenlove @scarlet-natasha89

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[clouds-rambles]

hello!~ o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

can i request headcanons for kaeya, diluc, childe, and venti on what they would while their s/o dies in their arms? (if thats okay with u <3)

thank u sm! :))

BESTIE THE PAIN I FEEL RN!!! Omw to make hurt some of my faves hope you enjoy <3

Also guys I’ve been here for a day how are there almost 50 of you following?!

Pairings; (Separate) Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Venti x reader

Warning(s); hurt, big hurty, reader death, vague wound description, cursing, talk about dead bodies

Keep reading under the cut!

Kaeya

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were meant to live forever with him. You were supposed to grow old with him and become a parent to your future children. You were-

“Kaeya” you choke out smiling at your partner above you. The man shakes his head mentally pleading with you to not die “Kaeya I will always be on the wind” you tell him, a shaky, bloody hand raised to his cheek to weekly caress it

“Please” he pleads “Please don’t die on me [name]” you smile at him feeling the breaths in your lungs disappear

“I’m sorry Kae--ya” you apologise before passing away in his arms

He doesn’t move for a long time. He doesn’t feel for a long time. The one person he could share his secrets and his love to gone. Away with the wind

Kaeya doesn’t remember the last time he cried, but he’ll remember this one. 

Your beaten, bruised, broken, dead, and beautiful body slumped in his arms as his tears fall from his face as he feels an absence in his heart

How is he supposed to live on if this is the pain he feels right now?

Jean eventually stumbles upon Kaeya out in the wilds, still clutched to your now cold and even more lifeless body

Jean manages to get the man up with your body held close to his chest

“Jean, I can’t, I can’t let them go” he pleads as if he’s waiting for you to simply wake up in his arms

“Kaeya...” Jean says in a concerned tone having never seen him in such a state, even he seemed to quickly recover from his fathers death

Eventually Jean coaxed Kaeya to go back to the city and leave your body in the hands of the sisters. Where they dressed you up and prepared a funeral service for you

The funeral was larger than Kaeya was expecting, you had affected a many more people than he realised from your small jobs around the city. Kaeya can’t help but be awed at how many people you’ve helped while you were in Mond

The usual chatter of Mondstat is quiet and in a time of grieving for about a week or so, many people have wonderful memories of you and Kaeya seems to be collecting them all, that and bunches of flowers. Many of which find themselves laying on your tombstone as Kaeya tells you about his day

A month passes and it seems like everything's back to normal, Kaeya is back to his outgoing self. He spends more nights at the tavern, but even Diluc doesn’t have the heart to cut him off. 

Jean seems to pick up on the smallest things, goddamnit Jean, the extra nights at the tavern, the eyebags, the weeping she can hear from his room. In it’s own right is heart-breaking, the acting Grandmaster cannot imagine what it’s like to be actually experiencing that kind of pain

-

Diluc

No, not like this

You had both decided that night to join each other in your little vigilante escapade. Which was fine you had both done this before, but tonight resulted in something very different

Here you are, head on Dilucs lap. This could be considered romantic, and often was, were it not for the fact you felt like you choked up a mixture of your lung and your bloody supply

“Diluc” you speak with a much worse for wear voice, the red-head looks into your eyes, eyes already gaining moisture. A similar scene has befallen him before, a Diluc knows how this ends

“Please” he pleads his voice wavering “Please don’t leave me” he chokes back a sob and tears fall off his face the salt hitting your own

“I love you so much” you start, Diluc shakes his head. Must you hurt him so with last words? “Don’t blame yourse-” another set of hacking befalls you as you lose more blood

“Please” he pleads again as the grip you had on his arm goes slack indicating your loss of life

Diluc screams, he cries and he hugs you close. He screams into the air of Mondstat until his voice hurts and he cries until all he’s doing is dry sobbing and he holds you close until you’re broken body is pried from his own broken mind

A wondering Jean heard his screams into the night sky and hereby answered them. She never expected to see Diluc, still in his vigilante getup, crying over your body

She calls for more guards who take your body from his and Jean helps Diluc get back to the estate. At one point during the walk Jean can feel DIluc shaking and hyperventilating. So they stand for a moment, Jean holds and comforts the wine-master before they move again

Jean has never seen such emotion from Diluc before, and she wholeheartedly hopes she’ll never have to see it again. Seeing Diluc so raw and rife with emotion is enough to make anyone cry. And Jean nearly did on more than one occasion.

Your funeral is small, much to Dilucs request and really only were attended by the estate and Jean. Diluc didn’t want to cry again in such a large audience

Though the maids often hear pained sobs coming from Dilucs room as he contemplates and often blames himself for what had transpired. Maids daren’t speak up about what they hear though, Diluc’s pain is more than understandable

Diluc throws himself into work opting to man the bar most days of the week and fighting for the city as often as he can. People around him are more than concerned

Diluc’s stoic nature seems to be intensified now, not wanting to let another person in and die in his arms. He’s seen enough death for his life and wishes not to lose more loved ones

Everything seems to have moved back to what life was before you arrived in your life, depressive, monotonous, boring, mundane for the most part and sad. So very sad

He wishes for a day where his heart isn’t strife with grief, but he doubts that day will not be coming anytime soon

-

Childe

You grin up at him, feeling close to naught pain coming from the gaping wound thanks to the excess of adrenaline that’s pumping through your body

“Childe” you say the smile still on your lips in an attempt at not making the situation as dark and horrific as it is. Childe speaks your name in return

“I love you” you tell him mustering the strength to cup the mans cheek, who immediately nuzzles into it. The situation almost doesn’t feel real to him. He’s going to be shaken awake by a very unwounded you in just a moment and inform him he’s having a nightmare

But that moment doesn’t come. Nor do any words come from you. Your slow rhythms of your heart remind you that he’s still got time, but you’ve expended all your energy. Your smile you’re wearing seems to be dropping

“I love you [name], I love you so much, you are everything I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you” he rambles bringing your body to his chest

“Live for--- me” you sputter out into his chest, a dying wish that Childe isn’t too sure he can uphold. Is it really living if he’s an empty vessel.

You go limp in his arms and he can no longer sense your heartbeat. Death had finally laid claim to you

Childe sits with you for hours, you’d expect him to be wailing like a banshee if you knew his personality but that’s rather not the case. Sobbing quietly is a better word for what happens. Most of his sobs and hacks for air are hidden in your hair. He pulled your body to his shoulder just to weep

Eventually he finds himself mustering the courage to walk back to Liyue Harbour. You firmly held in his arms. He knows that if he walks too plainly the Millelith would pry and ask too many questions for his fragile heart to answer

Childe ends up barging into the wangsheng funeral parlour, which surprises Zhongli a little. He’s about to go on a rant to Childe about how he must book an appointment, until he sees your lifeless body in his arms

The funeral is arranged quickly and neatly. There aren’t many people who attend, Childe is okay with that, he secretly wants to see his family and cry on their shoulder a bit

Instead he opts for a letter, which arrives to the family tear stained and lacking the usual penmanship ‘I’m sorry, you won’t be able to see [name] after all. They passed away not too long ago...’ he basically writes your arbitrary in the letter. And his whole heart is in every word he writes

Determined not to let anybody in Childe finds himself in a pattern, when he’s not throwing himself into battles he’s doing paper work or yelling at his subordinates and when he’s not doing that he’s doing his weekly fight with the traveller. Childe gets next to no sleep and instead opts to reading and rereading every letter and note you’ve ever given him

If Childe passes out at his desk nobody bothers him either in fear of getting yelled at by the harbinger or an understanding of losing a loved one

They never said being a harbinger was fulfilling work. Yet, he let himself believe that he could be fulfilled and content with a lover. What a shameful lie

-

Venti

He’s awfully quiet. He hasn’t experienced death in so long. Especially one he thought would be forever.

He couldn’t even get to you to hear your last words. Ironic isn’t it? He hadn’t heard that guys last words either. And yet this pains him so much more

Sure mortal lives are fleeting but he was certain he had more time with you. More time to see you grow old, more time to put off your inevitable mortality. More time to-

He’s hyperventilating, Venti’s body shakes as he finds nothing to ground himself not even the person he loves so dear is there for him. He feels like he could explode, breaths caught in his throat refusing to surface and come up for air. Despite being an immortal archon, the breaths that refuse to surface don’t fail to make him feel like he’s choking

A bard he is. And one that knows every song from the past, present and future. Suddenly the pained songs from the future make sense to him. He knew what was written. A love lost

Suddenly he finds himself crying and hunched over your deceased form making promises to the wind that he’ll never forget you. Much like he’ll ever forget that bard

He isn’t sure how long has passed but he’s still sobbing over your form, there aren’t many tears left for him to cry but he can’t find himself stopping. He feels like they’ll never stop. 

Maybe he could lay beside you and sleep for another thousand years. But that would only delay the inevitable. The inevitable sinking feeling.

Maybe it was his fault for letting himself fall in love with a mortal, but in the moment he could truly see you living life with him. He could see a marriage, children. He wanted you to have it all.

Damn celestia and all things above for not letting you ascend, at least when he inevitably ascends you’ll be there to greet him. Curse that and your mortality

Jean eventually stumbles upon him during a recon mission to find him covering your body in various flowers, a crown made of cecelias don your head. He’s quiet, but he’s saying goodbye. Who would blame him? Jean doesn’t interrupt him and only wishes you a farewell

News of your death spread around town like wildfire, your grave donned with more flowers than Venti can count. He almost feels bad about not doing a public service after seeing how many people are truly in mourning

Diluc doesn’t push Venti to pay his growing tab no matter how much he should. And Diluc doesn’t say no to Venti singing his happy tunes in the tavern

It feels like his life has retuned to normal. Though Jean can’t help but look out the library window to see Venti sat atop his statue with an expression, as Jean can only guess, of sadness.

Venti finds himself going back to an old schedule again but he can’t miss the nagging feeling of somethings missing. The something being you

Sometimes he half expects you to hug him from behind, or join him up at the statue, or kiss him on his nose, or-

Venti can’t quite comprehend how he feels, he just knows there’s a hole in his heart where you belonged. And he doesn’t want to let anyone find their way into there

He doesn’t want to lose again

It’s happened too much

[hmslusitania]

Paint it Black

@evanbucxley @arrenemris you guys wanted petty, jealous Eddie stuck in an elevator with Taylor during the blackout, right?

Eddie Diaz has been involved in his share of awkward dinners.

This one takes the cake though. It starts with him showing up at Buck’s loft by himself, and Buck opening the door with that stupid puppy-dog confused tilt to his head that makes Eddie want to do something drastic.

“Where’s Ana?” he asks.

“We broke up,” Eddie says. “Figured it would be weird to invite her to dinner after that.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” Buck says, which yeah, Eddie knows because Eddie hadn’t told him yet. “I’m sorry, man.”

Which makes…one of them.

The night gets worse when Taylor shows up with her latest story of her investigation into – Eddie misses the details, but he’s discovered that Taylor’s voice somehow is at the exact right pitch that he can’t quite hear it most of the time. Weird how that works.

Buck, bless his fucking heart, feels none of the tension in the loft. Or if he does, he doesn’t react to it. He stays chipper and upbeat and positive and doesn’t comment when Eddie and Taylor trip over each other to help him with making dinner or pouring drinks or to sit beside him on the couch while the food cooks.

But, like, the spot on the couch beside Buck is Eddie’s spot, and if it’s not Eddie’s it’s Christopher’s.

And Eddie…loses the fight.

Taylor’s tiny, and for just half a second, he entertains the utterly absurd idea of just picking her up and moving her, but it flits out of his head almost as soon as it arrives. It’s quickly followed by an unfortunate realisation that it must be easy as anything for Buck to just pick her up and move her when – which is then immediately erased by the second-hand memory he acquired from Captain Mehta that Buck had been able to just pick Eddie up and toss him into the engine like he was a sack of potatoes – which –

He’s saved when dinner is ready, but he feels Taylor’s eyes on him the whole way through the meal.

Annoyingly, they end up leaving at the same time. Buck and Eddie have a shift in the morning, and Taylor has a story to cut before some deadline or other. Eddie would rather not walk out with her, would rather not share the elevator with her – he briefly considers legging it for the stairs but they’re at the other end of Buck’s floor and the elevator is right there and it would be absolutely blatant what he was doing – but if the alternative is knowing she’s staying the night at Buck’s, he’ll deal with the elevator.

They’re both quiet while the doors slide open, the soft whisper of the brushed stainless-steel brushing against the dust guards the only sound besides the simmering mutual animosity between them. They step into the elevator, which smells vaguely of Pinesol, and Taylor presses the button for the ground floor with a shiny lacquered red nail.

The doors close again and the shimmering, irritable silence fills the space. No elevator music in Buck’s building, which is probably for the best.

“So,” Taylor says as the world’s slowest elevator descends. “Is it personal or are you just jealous?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eddie says. The elevator has faux wood panelling, not mirrors, so he can’t tell if she’s looking at him or if she’s staring straight ahead like he is.

“You either hate me on a personal level, because I’m me or something,” she says. “Or you hate me because you’re in love with Buck.”

Eddie gets as far as a spluttered, indignant, “I am not in love with—”

And then the elevator lurches. Stops. The lights flicker and then die. The emergency lights do not kick on.

“Well that’s comforting,” Taylor says, dry.

Eddie pulls out his phone. Usually, it’s still connected to Buck’s wifi by the elevator, and the connection’s gone. So it isn’t just the elevator.

“There’s a button in here that calls the fire department, right?” Taylor asks, pulling out her own phone and shining it at the elevator panel. She presses the button that should connect them directly to the department, and nothing happens.

“Depending on how wide the power outage is, it might have knocked out dispatch,” Eddie says.

“Great,” Taylor says. “You’re a firefighter, you can get the doors open, right?”

“With a Halligan and a fully functional shoulder?” Eddie asks. “Sure.”

She huffs. “Do you think it’s just this building or wider?”

“How would I know?” Eddie asks.

“So helpful, thank you.”

“What do you want me to do, Taylor? Use my magical powers of divination to figure out if we’re in a building-wide, block-wide, city-wide, county-wide blackout?” Eddie snaps.

He can’t see her face in the shitty half-light of their respective phone screens, but he hears her roll her eyes.

“It’s because you’re in love with him, right?” she asks.

“For fuck’s sake, Taylor, I’m not in love with—”

“Because he’s in love with you,” she interrupts as though he hasn’t spoken. Eddie’s heart stops. “It’s weird, I’ve never really had to vie for someone’s affections before. I can’t say I’m a fan, but, see, he thinks you aren’t an option.”

“He told you this?” Eddie asks and hopes to God his voice sounds normal because it does not feel like it.

Taylor snorts. “He didn’t have to. Do you guys have any idea what you’re like when you’re around each other? It’s obvious to anyone who even meets you in passing, and I know both of you and have a journalism degree. It’s not difficult math.”

“Then why are you dating him?” Eddie asks, swallowing back the lump that’s just jumped into his throat that feels suspiciously like his heart.

“Because I like him,” Taylor says. “And because I like a challenge.”

Before Eddie can say anything rude about Buck being worth more than a challenge to someone, she sighs.

“I’d say you’re going to have to fight me for him, but it’s not going to be much of a competition,” she says.

“You really think my chances are that bad?” Eddie asks and he hates how sad he sounds, even to his own ears.

Taylor doesn’t get a chance to answer before Eddie’s phone lights up with a picture of Buck and Chris together and Buck’s name in bright letters. In the sudden illumination, he sees the annoyed, resigned expression on her face.

“That answer your question?” she replies, and Eddie answers the phone.

“Hey, did you make it out or are you stuck in the elevator?” Buck asks.

“We’re stuck in the elevator,” Eddie says. “No idea what floor. Maybe three?”

“Cool, don’t go anywhere,” Buck replies and hangs up before Eddie can ask where, exactly, they might go.

An awkward silence hangs in the elevator in the wake of the phone call.

Until, finally, Taylor says, “For what it’s worth, if I had to lose to someone, at least you’re as pretty as I am.”

Eddie is still searching for some kind of response to that – coming up absolutely blank – when the elevator doors slide open. Buck, illuminated by a headlamp, waves at them and pockets his keys.

“You have an elevator key?” Taylor asks while Buck pulls her out.

“Fire marshals and captains get ’em,” Buck says. “They’re standard across production lines.”

“Fire marshals have to give them back,” Eddie points out.

“Eh, when I was a probie, we got an elevator rescue and Bobby told me to go open the doors, and so I stood there trying to pry them open for like five minutes before he walked up to the elevator panel and unlocked them with his key,” Buck says. “Chim and Hen laughed at me for about a month every time we got near an elevator. So when I did my turn as fire marshal, I may have made a copy.”

“Of course you did,” Eddie says. He rolls his eyes and is grateful for the darkness so Buck can’t see exactly how fond he must look.

Taylor catches him, though, and for a tense second, Eddie thinks she’s going to say something about it. But Taylor Kelly is a lot of things, but “quitter” isn’t one of them. It might not be a fair fight, and the outcome might be rigged in Eddie’s favour, but he understands then that she’s going to make him fight for it. Fight for Buck.

No worthier fight, really.

“We should check in, see if they want us on shift early,” Buck says, already pulling his phone out to text or call Bobby.

“And I should go investigate,” Taylor says. “I’m sure my station is missing me.”

“Okay,” Buck says. “Do you want my headlamp for the stairs?”

“I’ve got it, but, thank you,” Taylor says. She stretches on her toes to kiss him goodbye – much more thoroughly than she had when they left Buck’s apartment. She arches an eyebrow at Eddie once she’s let go of Buck and Eddie narrows his eyes right back. “See you boys later.”

She flips on the flashlight on her phone and waltzes off to the stairs.

“We should tell all my neighbours to stay inside,” Buck says.

“Sounds like a plan,” Eddie says, shooting a text to his abuela and Chris to ask them to do the same. He doesn’t know yet if the blackout’s reached their neighbourhood, but it’s a better policy.

“So what did you and Taylor talk about while you were in the elevator together?” Buck asks in between knocking on his neighbours’ doors to announce LAFD please remain inside your homes.

“We, uh, came to an understanding,” Eddie says.

“Oh! Good,” Buck says. He pauses. “What about?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie recommends. He nudges Buck with his shoulder and gets a grin in response. “Let’s check in with Bobby and see if they need us or if they recommend we just stay inside and stay safe, too.”

“No one I’d rather weather a lockdown with,” Buck replies, as if the second she stepped into the stairwell, Taylor also disappeared from his head. “Well, except maybe Christopher.”

Eddie laughs, and thinks in Taylor’s direction, may the best person win.

[obae-me]

A Taste of Your Own Medicine

Author’s Note: I finally did it! One of my bigger projects finished! And this is the most ambitious thing I’ve posted in a while! It’ll be my biggest post for sure! I truly, truly hope you guys enjoy this. I hope this sickfic can make you feel a bit better during these times. (*slaps fic* This bad boy can fit so many cuddles in it). Thank you all for your encouragement and support, it’s honestly what helped me get this finished! Also, I swear I’ve been over this thing more than thirty times to try and catch mistakes, but it’s a lot so if I missed mistakes I apologize. 

Word Count: 18,300

Warnings: Blood, Medication Use, Vomiting, I’m not a doctor in any way shape or form, so please don’t take any of this as a personal guide. 

As Always, Read Safely, And Please Enjoy!

Lucifer, then Satan and Mammon. After that came Beel and Belphie, followed up by Levi. Lastly Asmo. All of them, every single one, had fallen ill. Try as they may, none of them had been safe, and you’d been the main one working to nurse them back to health despite you knowing nothing about caring for demons. It had been...what was the right word? Grueling? No. Enjoyable? Well you couldn’t quite say that either. It had its ups and downs. Working for about a month straight on little sleep wasn’t exactly a dream job, but the affection and actions you’d seen were priceless. The pictures on your phone and the memories in your head would keep your heart warm for the rest of your life, but you could go no further. You were done. Done with being a nurse. Done with restless nights. Done with this illness. 

The House of Lamentation had finally begun to feel normal again, normal except for your persistent fatigue accompanied by strange shifts in your body temperature. It started off small at first, you had hardly noticed. Unfortunately, it had grown rather rapidly, impeding your day-to-day life. The fuzzy thoughts in the back of your mind knew that something was unnatural. Your body shouldn’t feel like this. Yet, afraid of facing the truth, or hoping you were just overreacting, you insisted that just sleeping it off would bring you back to normal. 

Only... you should’ve known. You should’ve seen the signs. The sneezing, the breathlessness you felt with the simplest of things, the discomfort settling in your bones. What were you going to do? Well, you figured the best thing to do was move onward, acting like nothing was amiss. Fake it till you make it. Whatever it was would go away on its own, it had to. 

But it wouldn’t, and as much as they would refuse to admit it, each demonic member of the household had grown fond of being fussed over by you. Tugging you in all directions, demanding constant attention, wearing your energy down to dust. Although, if you were being entirely honest, they tended to do that regardless. However, after being treated so specially, their neediness grew tenfold. Thus, without giving yourself a break, every morning you ended up feeling worse than the day before, and it was only going downhill from there. Perhaps you should’ve told them, nipping it in the bud before it had a change to blossom into something terrible. In retrospect, that should’ve been the obvious path to take. Yet, driven by some desire you couldn’t place, you pushed yourself so far past the breaking point that your own body had to stop you. 

Waking up to your alarm in the early hours of this particular morning was more difficult than you’d like to admit. Removing the blankets might as well have been pushing stones off your body. Your limbs felt stiff, gravity’s pull was stronger than it should’ve been, and moving forward was like pushing through waves of molasses. However, you went forward, still fooled under some grand delusion that you’d feel better once you freshened up. Gathering up a change of clothes and a towel for your morning shower, you stumbled out of your room. Getting to the bathroom had been a blur, the only thing you could recall was consistently leaning your weight against the wall to keep your legs steady. You’d met no one in your path, assuming they must’ve all already been in the dining hall, the faint smell of breakfast foods flooding the hallways. It made your stomach churn. 

Before anyone could see you in this downright pathetic state, you entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and locking it. You took a moment to catch your breath and press your forehead against the cold wood of the door. It felt amazing against your skin. But you couldn’t linger, you had to get ready for RAD. As you turned, you came up to the sink, settling your items on the side of the bowl. It was then you saw your face in the mirror for the first time that morning. Biting your lip, you splashed some water on your face, hoping it would wash away some of the hints of sickness-- the not-sickness...you weren’t sick. Right? You couldn’t have caught the demon illness, right? Was it possible? Your head was throbbing, the heart in your chest pounding in panic. What were you going to do? You couldn’t miss classes, you couldn’t let anyone know, you couldn’t be a burden. Brush your teeth, you thought. Get ready, play it off. It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad. Stop overreacting. 

Showering felt nice, it was the only thing so far that let you feel some peace. The steamy hot water released some of the tension in your temples and lungs. Although, the intense heat made you lightheaded, and a single little misstep in the shower had you almost plummet to the floor. Shaking, gasping for air, desperately attempting to cling to the slick stone wall, you slowly sat on the wet tiles, leaning your body back so the stream of water landed directly on your chest. The comfort almost coaxed you back into sleep, but before you could fall into slumber, you jolted. How long had you been in there? Five minutes? Half an hour? You could forget about washing your head today. Crawling out of the shower, the frigid air burnt the inside of your nose, shuddering you with a few sneezes. Not good. You rushed to dry yourself off and pull your uniform on. Before you headed down to the dining hall, you blew your nose, shook your head, and prepared yourself to sound as normal as possible. Somehow you managed not to stumble down the stairs, something you were thankful for. Maybe it wasn’t as severe as you thought it was. 

Arguing could be heard past the hall doors. That wasn’t too rare, it’d become tradition almost, to the point where being met with an unclamorous silence was somewhat threatening. What was it this time? Mammon stealing something? Beel eating something? Belphie not doing something? 

It was hard to comprehend the words, but you could make out the important pieces. “I bought that for ya, so it… … … that I took it back!” Mammon growled. 

“Once you… … …  it was mine!” Asmo shrieked. “It wasn’t yours to sell … … … buy it in the first place!” 

Ah, so it was another Mammon related issue, you didn’t need to be a hardcore gambler to win that bet. Raised voices didn’t do any good for your head, the pressure in your eardrums throbbing. You stayed silent as you slid inside, or at least you tried to stay silent. Instead, you accidently made your presence prominent as you shut the doors too harshly behind you. Heads turned all at once, your knees threatening to turn to jelly under the gaze. 

“Is something the matter, MC?” Lucifer asked, the first one able to sense something wrong. He always knew. You were never able to hide anything from him. However, the fact that you’d been able to play things off in his presence up till now settled a sort of twisted pride inside you. You blamed Pride himself for his bad influence. Lowering his cup from his lips, he raised an eyebrow. 

You mustered up a usual grin. “Just...tired,” you lied. Had your throat always been this sore? And was it the table full of warm food, or was it terribly hot in here? Not the healing sort of temperature either, but rather the sticky suffocating heat that formed waves in your vision. Or maybe the room was swirling on its own? Tugging at the collar of your shirt, you took a single step forward, attempting to walk again. You lowered your head, turning away from the eldest, remaining as inconspicuous as possible for fear he’d take one good look at you and expose your troubles. Lucifer was not convinced, shifting his gaze between his morning cup of coffee and your strange stature. For the time being, he dropped his questions, lying in wait for you to exude any signs that you were lying. 

Doing your best not to trip up, you eventually sat down at the dining table, a spot left open for you between Belphie--who was sitting up asleep--and Asmo. The demon of lust luckily didn’t seem to notice your weaker state, continuing on his tirade against his older brother. “Mammon, I swear to whatever forces may be listening that if you don’t get it back I will ruin you, you hear me?!” 

“Yeah yeah, you can try!” Mammon scoffed. 

Asmo spoke again, his words blocked out by the sudden ringing in your ears, the shrill noise spurring on pain behind your eyes. As you bit the inside of your cheek, you squeezed your eyes closed till the painful sound faded away. Only, opening them back up now seemed to make everything worse. The light was harsh, far too harsh, blinding rays striking off every reflective surface. Your vision started to swim, blurring the features of those around you. Squinting, you groaned a bit to yourself before lifting a utensil from the table, attempting to eat some of the breakfast in front of you before anyone became suspicious. Every bite sank heavily to the bottom of your stomach. 

“Will the two of you be quiet, for sin’s sake?!” Satan boomed, his wrath peeking through his composure as his brothers started to take their spat too far, interrupting what should’ve been a quiet morning. Although, when had that ever happened? Magic spilling from their fingertips, demon forms exposed, Mammon and Asmo were each ready to brawl it out at any moment. The ruckus finally managed to stir Belphie who was visibly irritated. 

The miniscule amount of food you had eaten started to already stir sickeningly within you. The sweltering heat you had felt before stripped away in a moment, a frightening chill creeping over your body. Before you could think, you got to your feet, breathless, heart pounding as an overwhelming presence of something agonizing forced you to move. Getting up too quickly caused the whole world to rock, your head doing somersaults. Lucifer obviously was now convinced everything was far from fine as you swayed on your own two feet, the legs of his chair screeching against the hardwood floor as he stood. Everyone in the room quickly went quiet, all eyes on you as you fumbled. The weight of their attention seemed to push you further over the edge. “It’s...I’m…” You needed to move, to be anywhere but here, so you staggered a few steps away from the group. 

You heard the thud before you felt it, not quite comprehending what it meant to feel the floor fall out from beneath you as the world shifted sideways. The area became a chorus of shouts as seven demons called out your name. You didn’t fully blackout. Your consciousness was too stubborn to be snuffed out like that, but you couldn’t fully talk or move either. 

A pair of arms wrapped around you, bringing you close to their body. Despite being right next to you, somehow everything still felt so far away, like you were experiencing everything secondhand. The smoothness of leather touched your cheek before the glove was supposedly discarded, cold skin touching your face. “They’re burning up,” Lucifer announced, the undertones of his voice just barely wavering, or perhaps your sense of sound was just as skewed as your sight had been. He flipped his hand over, his knuckles brushing against your forehead. You tried opening your eyes to look at him, but it was next to impossible. 

“MC?! Hey, what’s with you?!” Mammon shouted, two hands squeezing your shoulders. The panic in his words was apparent. “What’s wrong with them?!”

“I think they’re sick,” Belphie chimed. 

Satan sounded distant, but his voice still drifted to your ears. “Should I alert Simeon and Solomon?” 

Without warning, you sensed yourself being lifted off the floor, the sudden movement jerking the last strands of your consciousness back as you lurched into a black weightlessness. You swam through the fog, trying to pick back up the voices in the room. 

“...the human world to get a few things,” someone spoke. As you shifted your body, the people went silent, but not for long. 

“They’re awake!” 

“Thank heavens…” 

“Oi, everyone get off ‘em!” 

Somehow, you found the energy to open your eyes. There were no arms holding you and the dining room was far gone. You were now in bed, in your room, surrounded by demons, angels, and the only other human in the Devildom. The confusion of the blank spot in your memory shot panic through your nerves, not to mention it was uncomfortable to be stared down like this. “What…?” You gasped, trying to sit up in bed. A washcloth slid off your forehead and down your face. Someone’s gentle hands guided you back into a lying position, taking the rag and putting it back in its place. 

Lucifer had a chair pulled up to your bedside, lines popping up between his eyebrows in worry. He finished pressing you back up against your pillow, pulling the blankets back over your chest. “Don’t move too much,” he ordered, his words harsh but his eyes soft. “You collapsed in the dining hall.” 

Well, that part you could recall. They must’ve brought you here. Despite it only feeling like a second, you must’ve been out long enough for the other exchange students to arrive. “Is-” You interrupted yourself with some coughs, quickly turning your head into your pillow. Even just speaking left your lungs weak, but you had a question. “Is it…? 

“It’s not what the brothers had if that’s what you’re asking,” Solomon nodded. “You as a human couldn’t catch that particular illness. Although if you had, you probably wouldn’t survive. So lucky you, right?” Levi nearly dropped to his knees at that prospect, eyes wide with fear, as if he wasn’t convinced that you were lucky at all. You had to admit, you felt far from it. Many of the other siblings shot the sorcerer a dirty glare, everyone’s nerves strangely on edge. Solomon closed his eyes and laughed a bit. “Aha, but like I said, it’s a very mortal disease. Just a cold or the case of the flu from what I can tell.” 

“Just?” Mammon growled, barking out his opinions like an angry guard dog. “They’re lying here looking like they're two seconds away from pushin’ up daisies and you make guesses? You’ve been acting so calm and treating this like it ain’t that serious! And to be honest, it’s kinda tickin’ me off!” He took a few serious steps towards Solomon, shoulders squared, ready to fight. Luke ducked behind Simeon’s body for protection, but there was no need. Before he took things too far, Mammon growled and resumed his brisk pace around your room. 

“I hate to agree with him,” Asmo started, “But Mammon’s right.” The fourth-born frowned, some of his outward sparkle dulled with concern. Every hint of his and Mammon’s dispute had faded away. “This isn’t a joke! You have to do something, Solomon! Save them!” Asmo flung himself over the sorcerer begging and pleading, reacting as if you were on your deathbed. Mammon pushed a haughty breath of air between his teeth, turning on his heels to sit beside you on the bed. His nervous energy could hardly be contained, erratically adjusting the blanket over your body as one of his legs bounced up and down rapidly. 

Solomon shook his head, brushing Asmo off of him. “I was simply trying to lighten the mood.” You caught a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watched these powerful demons on the brink of falling to pieces. “If treated properly, it shouldn't be fatal. Plenty of monitoring and rest and the body should heal on its own. Of course if it worsens or persists, then a doctor might be required, but we can cross that bridge when we get to it. Although, like I was saying, it would be best if I went to the human world to at least get some proper medicine. We wouldn’t want our MC here to suffer the full brunt of the symptoms, and I doubt the remedies here would have a desired effect.” 

With that, Lucifer sighed, lifting his chin to address the sorcerer. “I shall accompany you to the human world. We’ll get what we need and come right back, understood?” 

Either the demon of pride’s stern glare wasn’t at its peak today or Solomon was generally unaffected. The sorcerer looked past him and right at you with a grin on his face. “He gets rather overbearing when it comes to you doesn’t he?” 

“We’re leaving,” Lucifer huffed, his arms wide to shepherd everyone out of your room. Several of his siblings cried out in protest. “Everyone out! The last thing MC needs is the bunch of you bothering them.” The only one he didn’t tug along was Simeon, the angel turning down the light and approaching you as soon as everyone had gone. 

A short laugh rumbled in his throat. “They sure do care about you a lot,” he smiled. He took Mammon’s previous spot on the bed by you, settled by your hip. He discovered the bump in the blanket that served as your arm under the covers. Slowly, he ran his hand up and down over it. “What a terrible thing for you to be this sick.” It wasn’t often the angel frowned, but in this case he appeared deeply troubled, as if he was taking your pain as his own. “I can help you fall asleep if you’d like me to. Solomon warned me against using too much magic against your weakened immune system, but I should be able to let you sleep peacefully.” He waited for a response, not moving forward with anything till you nodded your head slowly. Golden light rushed to the ends of his fingers, the soft skin of his fingertips brushing against your eyelids to close them. A shudder ran down your spine, your own body tingling, and you wondered if it was his magic or simply just the tender gesture. “Rest well, MC,” Simeon whispered. “Feel better.” And then just like he suggested, your mind quickly got swept along into a blissful sleep. 

Angelic magic or not, it didn’t seem to hold back the fever for long. Even in your dreams, all you could feel was frigid fire. Your nerves were fried, unable to tell if you were freezing to death or boiling. And the dreams...the images flashing in your mind of threats you couldn’t understand, dangers that filled you with panic. Someone was uttering words to you that you couldn't understand. All you could do was try to run, try to escape. Everything about you was screaming. 

Through the mist of sickness, you could finally make out the voice. “...gotta...can’t...help…” After a few moments of the whimpering and the distress, you were alarmed to figure out it was the sound of your own voice. But you couldn’t even feel yourself saying the words. 

“I’m here,” another person muttered past the darkness. “It’s alright…” The stranger shushed, trying to sound sweet to cover up the panic in their tone. “The one time I need that pompous jerk around and he’s gone. Figures.” You could hear a few pages being turned, a frustrated click of a tongue followed after. “Why didn’t I look this up before? Why wasn’t I prepared?” The anger from the other being in the room seemed to affect you. You thrashed a little, kicking your feet as if it would help push off the suffocating agony. Two hands clamped down on your shoulders, pinning you to the bed. “Calm down...Please calm down...I need to calm down.” Once you went back to being mostly still, more pages were turned. “Have the afflicted wear light clothing. I can do that.” A weight was shed off of you as the blanket pulled back. Air struck your sweat covered skin, sending chills down your body. You began to tremble. The front of your RAD uniform was tugged at, someone working at the buttons to shed the outer layer off your body. 

“...won’t...s...sor...is…hah…” Your speech was broken, and even if you knew what you wanted to say, your mouth wouldn’t let you. Someone took your hands, lifting your arm to let gravity help assist in removing the sleeve. You could feel it slip before fully crashing against the bed like a dead weight, free of the thick uniform fabric. The same was done with the other arm. Then a hand supported the back of your neck, lifting your upper body just enough until the extra layer was yanked out from under you. Removing the jacket had been like opening an oven. Heat from your body suddenly escaped into the room, no longer trapped behind unnecessary insulation. Even in your rather deranged state, you could feel your shirt sticking to your skin. Now you seemed to be shuddering harder.

“Hydration...medication...Curses, Lucifer, get back here...Nothing...there’s nothing here!” The individual grunted in a growl of vexation, a frantic flutter of paper soaring further away before something heavy struck the ground far from you. You managed to stop moaning, switching to feverish panting. Your company tutted at you again, stroking the top of your head tenderly. “Can you even hear me at all? Breathe, MC, breathe.” It’s embarrassing to admit it took you much longer than you would’ve liked to remember how to control your breathing. Once you took some deeper inhales, you heard your caretaker sigh in relief. “Good…Well, not good, but better.” 

Reality had sunken in almost completely now, just covered with a thin layer of dreamy haze. You cracked your eyes open, a mess of blonde hair and worried green eyes looking down at you. “S-Sa...tan,” you murmured. 

His hand stroked your head a few more times before grabbing the wet rag again and dotting it across your face. The energy you needed to retain consciousness was quickly fading. Satan’s hands grasped your face. “Hold on!  Look at me again, come on.” With every ounce of power you had left, you lifted your eyelids as much as you could. Still half-lidded, you only caught glimpses of his green sweater as he slid one hand under your back, lifting you up gently. Your head bobbed down, chin against your chest as Satan settled your back against your headboard. Gentle fingers lifted your head, some plastic brought to your lips. “You have to stay hydrated, drink just a little.” You wrapped your lips around the straw, sucking water into your body until you felt like you were going to be sick again. Satan moved to put the cup back down, and in that time he made the mistake of letting you go. Gravity tugged your body down, nearly slipping out of bed, threatening to fall to the floor. Thankfully, the demon of wrath was there to catch you. Head resting against his shoulder, you breathily let out a ‘thank you’ that was probably closer to a slurred series of sounds rather than a statement. 

His arms wrapped tightly around you. “Don...lea…ve...”

Then everything went black again. 

When consciousness flooded back to your mind, you had no idea how long it had been. Turning to your other side, you rubbed your head against the pillow. Everything was still much too warm. You slipped an arm under your heavy headrest, hoping to get to the cooler side. Your pillow twitched. Your pillow...was moving? Up. Down. Slow. Rising with steady breaths. You woke up, shifting enough in your spot to alert the person in your bed. Placing a book to the side, Satan rubbed one of your shoulders. Taking a moment to realize what position you were in, you felt your stomach flop once you came to the conclusion that you were lying against Satan’s legs, clinging to his clothes, hand against his lower back, head resting against his stomach. “You alright?” Satan wondered, pressing a hand to your forehead. You didn’t need to speak for him to know the answer. Not really. “I’ll admit, you had me worried for a while there.” He sat up fully, your head sliding back to your pillow--your actual pillow. You quickly retracted your death grip on him, hugging your arms close to your body. If there could be any more heat in your cheeks, there would be. 

Shame creeped into your bones. “S...sorry.” 

His expression brightened a small amount, pleased with the fact that you could speak mostly clearly now, even if your voice did sound ragged. He pulled the blanket back over your shoulders and up near your chin. “Don’t worry about that, just worry about feeling better.” He twisted his body, grabbing something off your nightstand again. “Here, have some more water. Everything I’ve read says that you need to stay hydrated at all times.” You dug your elbow into the mattress, lifting your head enough to not choke as you drank. As Satan lowered the glass, you noticed it was almost completely empty. You didn’t remember drinking that much. Exactly how delusional had you been earlier? How much had you forgotten? You downed the rest of the drink in small sips, lying back down when you were done. 

“Did…” You squeaked. “Did I do anything…” 

“Weird?” Satan finished your sentence for you. “So you don’t remember all of it, I take it?” You shook your head. “You started moaning, hyperventilating. Once you calmed down a bit you collapsed on me and refused to let me go. I figured since I was going to monitor you anyway I would…” A small blush formed on his cheeks. “Hold you till Lucifer got home.”

You looked away from his face, still a bit self conscious. You decided to change the subject. “He’s still gone?” 

Satan’s lips almost curled into a little snarl. “Yes. I have no idea why he’s decided to take his sweet time to-” He cut himself off short, clearing his throat and removing any traces of rage. “Don’t worry about him, I’m sure he’ll be home soon with the medicine.” You felt the top of your head being pet again, tempting you to close your eyes. “Until then, is there anything I can get for you?” You shook your head once more, allowing yourself to indulge in your impulses, moving closer to his body. Despite seeming mostly unaffected by the intimacy earlier, he took in a short sharp breath, lifting his head to the side to hide part of his face. His hand was near your face, tauntingly close, reminding you of how chill his skin was and how good it felt to have him stroke your head. You closed your eyes, bringing your head forward enough to bump against his wrist. A stifled gasp rang through the air before he took a deep breath. “It’s unfortunate that you had to be this sick to…” His sentence trailed off, his hand that you’d ran into pressed against your burning cheeks before brushing against your hair, running down the length of locks before starting again. “Conserve your energy,” he whispered. “Go back to bed.” 

“... … how are they?”

“...still feverish… …sleeping for a long time…” 

“I’ll take over… … get some rest.” 

Soft voices somehow roused you from your deep sleep, the final click of your door leaving you awake. You flitted your eyes open, immediately upset with how dry and crusty they felt. It didn’t help you feel any better when you noticed Lucifer by your bed, busy observing a small cardboard container. He was quick to notice you move, turning his head towards you as you wiped the grime from your eyes with the back of your finger. How embarrassing. Having to be sick, weak, vulnerable, positively distasteful, and in front of the people you thought highly of no less. Memories of Satan flooded back into your mind. Would they all think less of you after this? For how low you’d fallen? For how weak you were? You couldn’t let that happen. What had happened with Satan couldn’t be helped, but from here on out you would do your best to be independent. You adjusted to sit up. 

“What did I say about moving too much?” He scolded, his hand outstretched to settle you back down. You swept his gesture away, sitting up fully and focusing on the item in his hand. A regular box of human world medicine. You reached out for it, and despite being annoyed you’d swatted him away, he handed it to you. The tones of his voice casually shifted from his typical strict nature to low and sweet. “Is...this the one you need?” You glanced it over. Gel pills, daytime and nighttime ones, for cold and flu symptoms. You nodded. He seemed relieved. “It doesn’t happen often, but I was glad for Solomon’s help in picking the proper medicines,” he admitted. “Who knew humans needed so many medications? And you even have entire shops dedicated to them.” He shook his head as a deep frown formed on his face as if he just realized how fragile and complicated human bodies could be. You sighed, agreeing with him in your mind. You were thankful he managed to bring this back though, for as much as you hated proving he was right, you desperately wanted the medicine to ease your aching symptoms. You tried prying the flap open, annoyed when it refused to tear apart. From out of the corner of your eye, you swore you spotted the smallest smirk cross over Lucifer’s face. “Would you like some help?” You grumbled, turning your torso away from him as you attempted again to open the simple package. In slight sadistic fashion, he simply observed you struggle for another few minutes before you tore the box open. Even just working on that had you nearly breathless, but you scrounged up a little triumphant grin. Pulling out one of the bubble sheets, you settled the box back in your lap which Lucifer quickly picked up, returning to read the details printed on the back. “No more than four doses a day,” he announced. “You can take two of those pills now and then wait for four hours before you can take any more.” He read all that out with the confidence of a doctor who knew exactly what he was prescribing. “I want you to check in with me before you decide to take more, understood?” 

You desperately wanted to be snippy about it, but the energy for defense was long gone. Plus, you knew that he needed to have his hands on the reins at all times, and his stubbornness was especially bad when it was a situation he had no control over. “Okay,” you squeaked, pressing your thumb tightly against the foil backing until the pills were free. Dumping them out into your palm, you sighed to yourself once you spotted the empty glass of water from earlier. You’d have to go refill it. 

As soon as you pushed the blankets back and swung your legs out of bed to stand up, Lucifer tightly gripped your shoulders. Normally, he would’ve reacted before the thought even crossed your mind, but your actions must’ve stunned him more than usual. “Where do you think you’re going?” 

Wincing a little, you cleared your throat before you spoke. “I need water.” You tried to get back up, but your weakened strength was no match against Lucifer’s, and he was hardly trying. 

“Then let me get some for you.” Your lips parted to utter out a rebuttal but he’d have none of it. He grasped your ankles, pulling your legs back into bed and folding the covers back over the lower half of your body. He pointed a gloved finger at you. “You’re not to move.” He plucked the empty glass off the tabletop, striding out of your door before you could even try to argue. A low groan rumbled in your chest, your lungs convulsing out a few more coughs. By the time you got your breathing managed again, the demon of pride was back in your room, handing you a fresh glass of water. A deeper frown tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched ripples form in the liquid as your hand shook. Attempting to stabilize your hold only seemed to make it worse. He reached out, his intention to help you drink. Before he could, you popped both pills in your mouth and grasped at the cup with both hands as you brought the rim to your lips, watching his arm fall dejectedly back to his sides. Even the smooth gel coating went down rough, feeling more like two sharp stones scraping the inside of your esophagus. With your nose more stopped up than usual, by the time you were done drinking you were gasping for air, resulting in coughs again, hard enough to nearly make you gag. Lucifer took the cup from you before you could drop it, settling it on your nightstand. You were bowled over, tears streaming from your eyes. Rare panic crossed over Lucifer’s face, rubbing your back till the coughing fit came to an end. He took a deep inhale once it was over. Then he placed his touch over your forehead again, his thumb gently rubbing against your temple. When he retracted, you nearly let a little moan betray your feelings. You’re supposed to be independent, you reminded yourself. Lucifer shifted in his seat a bit, brandishing another item from his pockets. “We got one of these things as well,” he explained, taking the little item between his fingers and squinting to better study it. “He said it would be useful in monitoring your temperature, but...he failed to explain how it worked.” 

If you were feeling even just a bit better, you would’ve laughed. Lucifer took the thermometer and pointed the end towards your forehead, his eyebrows raised as he waited for something to happen, only to scowl when nothing did. You let a similar cocky expression coat your face as he was the one to struggle with something so simple this time. If only he knew he had the right idea but the wrong type. He’d gotten one of the older fashioned versions. “This kind goes under my tongue,” you explained. 

“Really?” He hummed. “How strange. Seems...messy.” He held the end close to your mouth, his face showing no signs of amusement this time as he waited. You hesitated, your heart beating faster at the emotions swelling in your chest. Independent, independent, independent, you repeated in your mind. Only, you’d caught him in a very impatient mood. With his other hand, he cupped it around your chin, carefully pulling your jaw down till he could slip the end of the thermometer under your tongue. You pressed your lips back together, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. The small device beeped once it got its reading. Lucifer pulled it out and brought it back towards him. “101.4” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair before settling the thermometer down, attempting to guide your body back down in a lying position. 

You stopped him, grabbing his wrist, eyes focusing on anything other than his face. “You don’t...have to do this.” 

He entertained you, fully capable of pushing you down should he desire it, but he let you keep him in your grasp. His eyes narrowed. “What thing in particular are you talking about?” 

Taking as deep of a breath your lungs would allow, you corrected yourself. “You don’t have to take care of me, I mean.” Words strained and cracking, they did little to convince the demon. “I’m well enough to take care of myself. Trust me, I’ve done it plenty before.” 

Distrustful and discouraged, he stiffened, tugging his wrist away. “Be that as it may, while you are down here you are my responsibility. It is part of my duty to ensure you are safe and well looked after. Do you expect me to just walk away from my role?” 

You’ll admit, it wasn’t very rational, but something other than the fever in you burned. “I’m not an assignment to be written off, Lucifer.” 

“You know I didn’t mean that.” His crimson eyes looked down at you for a moment, the air silent between you save for the faint rattling in your chest. Eventually, he spoke back up, the previous forbidding expression gave way to a small smile. He closed his eyes and chuckled a little, taking you aback. “When did you ever get so prideful? Is it too bold to assume it’s my doing?” Then his hand moved forward, unbothered by your past attempt to push him away. He brushed sticky strands of hair away from your face. “If you truly don’t want me here, I will leave.” Your chest seemed to flutter at his words. It wasn’t that you...didn’t want him there. It was that you did. Almost too much. If there was anything you didn’t want, it was to be a hindrance. You knew how busy Lucifer was. His trip to the human world had probably already doubled his workload, and if you were right they’d all  skipped classes for your sake, and- “MC.” He cupped your face, the look on his face told you that he knew everything you were thinking. “Not worrying about anything else, not overthinking it, do you want me here, yes or no? A simple question and two simple options.” 

“I…” You knew the answer, and he did too, trying to hold back his amusement until he could hear the answer for himself. “If...you...want to.” 

He shook his head in a defeated way. “You’re incorrigible, you know that don’t you?” With your acceptance, he took your shoulders, letting you lie down. He took the rag that had fallen off to the side, gently brushing it across your face. Under your eyes, over your cheekbones, under your chin. Then he leaned forward, his upper body resting against your bed, his head propped up under one of his hands. He gazed at you, tracing your jawline with his knuckle. The skin across his cheeks turned a light pink. “Of course I want to be with you. Not a moment goes by that I don’t desire to be at your side.” 

The fast acting medicine and the fact that you’d been so distracted by his peaceful touch, you’d totally missed what he’d told you. “Hm?” You sleepily hummed, too focused on how close his body was to yours. 

“Nothing,” he mused, making sure you were secure under the covers. “I’ll tell you once you’ve recovered. Sleep now.” 

The muscles in your body slowly woke you up, screaming at you to change positions after having slept like a stone for Diavolo-knows how long. Eyes still closed, sleep still foggy on your mind, you turned over in bed. However, even with the smallest amount of alertness you possessed, you were very aware of how...generally upsetting your body felt. Soon it was all you could focus on, forcing you awake. Groaning, mourning the comfort of sleep, you slowly stretched out your weary legs. Your feet pressed against a foreign lump in your bed. 

Mammon shot up, uncurling himself from the foot of your bed as he apparently woke up from a nap. “MC!” He crawled forward, placing both of his hands on the side of your face. “How ya feeling?” His sudden energy left you a bit winded, still trying to comprehend him caressing your face so tenderly. He let his arms drop to your shoulders. You shifted under his gaze, shaking your head. 

“Like garbage…” Hot, sweaty, gross, you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. Mammon frowned, his blue eyes wide and shimmery. He resembled a puppy for just a second, observing your face for any sort of hope that by some miracle you’d fully recovered. When he saw you were still the worst for wear, he sighed, grabbing the covers around you and tucking it against your legs. Only, the blanket wasn’t one that you owned. Running your hands over the fabric, you noticed that this was one of Lucifer’s blankets. It was lighter and cooler than the blanket you had on before. You took in the rest of your room for a moment, noticing more than one thing out of place. Mammon had been resting on one of Belphie’s pillows, one of his new expensive ones. In fact the pillow you had been sleeping on was replaced with one of Sloth’s. On your nightstand, near your box of medicine and a box of tissues was a little diffuser, one you recognized as Asmo’s. A small plume of steam flushed out of the top, a mild comforting scent spreading throughout the space. A book that wasn’t yours, a replica of some sword draped over your table, and a number of other things that had never been between your walls before were littered here and there. You tilted your head. “Where did these things come from?” You wondered.

Mammon lowered his eyelids, his hands on his hips as he settled into a more comfortable seating position beside you. “Listen, my hands get grabby sometimes when I get anxious.” 

You simply blinked at him. “You were worried?” 

His sincere expression changed as he frowned, pink touching his cheeks as he shook his head. “W-well of course! Lucifer would make sure I never saw a lick of Grimm again if something happened to you…” His voice turned to a lower mumble. “And what, you thought I wouldn’t be worried after watching you take a spill like that? Had me thinking you’d bit the dust for a second!” His eyes flickered around the room as if he was making sure you two were truly alone. Then he leaned past you, fluffing up the pillow you had been laying on. As he straightened, he pressed his hand against your forehead, his body temperature much warmer than Lucifer’s. “Never make me that worried again, yeah? I...You see...Just don’t, okay?” 

You hummed an affirming tone, nodding, a small smile creeping across your mouth. Then after the moment had passed, you shifted in your spot. You felt disgusting even after all that effort to take a shower this morning. Lucifer did say not to move too much, but right now you wanted to be clean more than anything. Pushing back the blankets encouraged a similar reaction to Lucifer’s earlier. 

“Oi! What do you think you’re doing?!” Mammon scurried to his feet, standing in front of you with his arms wide to block you from moving, even though you had yet to even leave the bed. “Bed rest means staying in bed last I checked!” 

“Please, Mammon, I just want to take a shower, I’m grimy and gross. I feel like an over-steamed dumpling.” 

“Don’t let Beel hear you say that.” You managed to stand up, but your sense of balance left much to be desired. On instinct you ended up grabbing Mammon’s shoulders to keep from falling over. “Alright, nuh uh, you can barely move! What if you end up falling and cracking that head of yours open, huh?” Your mind was brought back to your morning mishap and near tumble in the shower from before. “You’re lucky you didn’t injure yourself too badly earlier!” 

Your eyes widened. “H-how did you know about that? I don’t remember telling anyone.” 

His eyebrows raised. “I’m talking about the dining hall, dummy. But now that you’ve let that little detail slip there’s not any chance I’ll let you go now! No way.” He put one arm under yours to keep you steady, ready to keep you back in bed for good. 

Gathering up what little energy you had, you took several deep breaths, gently pushing yourself away from his body until you were standing on your own, just barely stable. “Mammon, please?” It had been your goal up until now to look as far from pathetic as possible, yet now you poured all that into your expression, eyes pleading, head tilted a bit to the side. 

He squirmed. “Tch, you think you can do whatever you want just by giving me some puppy-eyes? Who do you think I am?”

“Fine,” you grumbled. “I bet Asmo would let me take a shower. Maybe I should call him and have him take care of me instead.” 

“Asmo?! I...you...fine! But I’m c-coming with you, to make sure you stay safe and all.” 

You lowered your eyes at him. “You can stay outside the bathroom.” 

“I’m not payin’ for a busted door if I need to break in. I’m going inside! I’ll just turn around or somthin’.” 

He stared you down with a nature stubborn enough to match your own. In your state now, you had little time to squabble. “Fine.” You started walking, leaning against bits of furniture to keep you steady. Acting rather gentlemanly, Mammon rushed ahead of you to open your door. Once he did, he took your arm tucked against his in a sort of escorting fashion. Saying nothing, you both took steady silent steps to the bathroom. You were immensely pleased to find it unoccupied, leaving Mammon’s side to step in. Like he promised he would, he followed you inside, shutting the door before his cheeks turned dark with embarrassment. He turned, parking himself in a corner with his face to the wall. 

“I-I’ll be right here in case something happens, alright?” For him to come this far for you was...The added heat rushing through your body only caused you to feel worse, so you flicked on the water to heat up as you stripped. As you were taking off your pants, balancing on one leg, you teetered to the side, nearly falling. The tub right next to you served as your saving grace. You panted, cursing at yourself for being so clumsy. “You alright?!” Mammon clasped his hands over his face before turning around. “MC?” Riddled with nervous anxiety, he danced back and forth on his feet. 

“I’m okay,” you wheezed. Just barely. You planted your foot against the fabric of your pants, tugging your other leg out. “Just keep looking at that wall.” You questioned the idea of him being in here at first, but now you were beginning to have little trust in yourself. What if you did collapse, locked, exposed inside an empty room till someone came looking for you? You shuddered. Climbing into the shower, you pulled the curtains across the rod until you were completely concealed. You let out a breath of relief as the steam once again cleared up your airways, the pressure building up in your head loosening. Shutting your eyes, you let the water wash over you, cleaning off the sticky sweat that had clung to your body. You simply stood there for a few moments, appreciating the serenity. Then you figured it would be best to get yourself clean while you had the capacity to. Reaching down for the soaps you used, you washed your hair and vigorously scrubbed down your body, envisioning all the germs swirling down the drain. Although by the time you were done, you became aware of the fact that you might’ve made the water a bit too hot, and you might’ve once again pushed yourself a little too far. Nausea came along with the dizziness, the floor losing it’s feeling of solidity. After you turned the water off, you tore the shower curtain back, stepping onto the bathroom mat. 

“You done?” Mammon asked. Right now, all you could do was grunt in response. The small burst of energy you possessed had plummeted. You bypassed the towels and straight for your clothes. Only, the clothes you had been wearing previously were gone. On cue, Mammon explained. “Oh I got you some pajamas. Not good to be lying in those same clothes all day, besides, I got you something comfier.” Folded up on the floor by the tub were a comfortable pair of your pajamas. Pushing aside your humiliation, you picked up the “pajamas” he’d picked out for you. One of your shorts and...one of his t-shirts. It was one he had bought on a whim, much like most of his other purchases. Merch from an action movie you and him had watched in the theaters a while ago. He loved this thing. You could only stare at it for a few seconds. Mammon was right, these would be much nicer to sleep in. 

With a meek voice you started slipping into the new outfit, still dripping. “T-thank you.” You had hardly finished poking your head through the shirt before your knees began to tremble. Your head felt foggy, your mind threatening to slip. “M-Mammon,” you gulped, your voice shaking. 

He spun around, eyes squeezed shut. “What? What is it? Are you bleeding? Are you hurt? Are you dressed? Can I look?” As soon as you ‘mm-hm’ed he flashed his eyes open, took in the sight of your shuddering frame before hurrying over to you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head for a moment, the world disappearing as you plummeted to the floor. You woke up in his arms hardly a few seconds after your fainting spell. Held tightly against his body, he wrapped his limbs around you, supporting you to keep you upright. “Hey, hey!” His voice shook as he squeezed you. “MC!” 

“ ‘s too...hot.” 

“Stupid human…” He muttered, his rugged tone falling short. “And you’re still drenched! Are you trying to make yourself even worse?” When his sharp remarks were met with your silence, he pulled you closer. “Ah...Really not good, huh?” He asked softly, one of his hands rubbing your back. You could only slowly shake your head. “Let’s get you back to bed, eh?” He brushed some damp hair away from your face before he dragged you out the door, his distress growing ever more visible the more you seemed to slump harder against him. It felt like an eternity inching back to your room, flopping facedown onto your bed as soon as it was in your sights. The mattress bobbed up and down, the movement surprisingly soothing, almost lulling your body to a light sleep right then and there. “Alright, come on. It’ll do you no good to fall asleep like that.” Mammon helped lift you up, letting you settle your head against his body, arms wrapped around his neck as he worked to get you back under the covers. He tucked you in, moving about the room nervously the less responsive you became. Shutting your eyes to conserve some energy, you listened to him curse under his breath, grumbling to himself about “fragile humans”. At some point, a dry fabric came into contact with the top of your head. You were pushed slightly to make some space for him to sit down. He adjusted you till your head was in his lap, the fabric massaging against your wet hair. “Stupid human…” He repeated, softly scrubbing the towel against your scalp. “Why’d you have to go and get yourself sick, huh?” 

“...didn’t...mean to...I’m sorry…” 

The motions across your head stopped, then you felt the back of his hand stroke against your cheek. “Now don’t sound like that...Do you know how much it hurts me to see ya like this?” He paused and then resumed ensuring your hair was as dry as he could get it. “Don’t you worry, the Great Mammon will be right here for you till you feel better, alright?” His voice sounded strained. “So ya better get better…” You cracked your eyes open, pushing yourself up. “What’re you doing? I-“ He quickly cut himself off as soon as you settled yourself between his legs, head against his chest. You could hear his throat casually gasp for breath. His nose came down to nestle against the top of your head, his arms dropping the towel, instead wrapping around your body. “Don’t do this for anyone but me, ya hear? Only I...only I want to take care of you like this.” He pulled the blanket up around the both of you, his soft breaths growing deeper and deeper. Eventually you both fell asleep. 

Your mind was flooded with more fever dreams, clips and scenes of moments your conscious mind wouldn’t even know how to explain. It blurred the line between what was real and what was simply your imagination, so in the moment, when you were disturbed from your sleep, you didn’t even react. Your body was moved, flipped over, weightless, moved from the soft surface you were on to something firmer. You could only process it for a mere second before you were plunged back into a nonsensical plot your frayed mind came up with. After what felt like some time, you were just barely awoken again when harsh and hushed whispers buzzed in your ears. 

“They shouldn’t be down here!” 

“So cute! I mean, poor thing.” 

“Are they still asleep?”

“Take them back.” 

Once you realized that this was real, you slowly became aware of more things around you. As tired numbness left your limbs, you felt your arms pinned against your body, something around you constricted your movement. Panic struck you for only just a second, feeling that your blanket was simply wrapped around your body. You figured in your restless state you must’ve trapped yourself inside it. An involuntary groan escaped your mouth as you squirmed a little, moving your feet in an attempt to feel an escape. 

Something outside of you moved you, tugging you tighter against something firm, a pressure rubbing circles into your back. It soothed you enough to keep you from struggling, but you were steadily waking up. The “wall” you were against vibrated as a deep voice rumbled out of it. “I just thought...it wouldn’t feel like a family dinner without them.” Your body was adjusted again, lifted to be propped up against what you now understood was a torso. One strong arm kept you still, draped against your back. 

“S-surely you can’t hold them and eat at the same time, Beel,” someone muttered. “Why don’t you let your big bro hold em?” 

The body holding you tightened around you, shielding you. “No.” 

“Don’t underestimate him.” 

“Should we wake them up?” 

“Don’t humans heal faster when they sleep?”

Someone else let out an exhausted breath. “Fine, but they’re to be put back in bed once you’re done.” 

The chest your head was against hummed with satisfaction. “Got it.” Soon, quiet but eager eating noises could be heard outside your muffled prison. If you connected the dots correctly, you were resting against Beel who had brought you down to dinner while you had been asleep. Was this a brief glance into what Belphie felt like? Albeit with more comfort and less...pain. Although he’d probably beg to differ. Right now, you couldn’t even pinpoint where the source of your suffering was coming from. It just seemed to be...all over, even down to the tips of your fingers. Even if you had wanted to move, you didn’t have the energy for it, so despite being almost wide awake at this point, you stayed in place. You tried to focus on anything else to keep your mind off the aching. Beel’s heart sounded like a distant drum. Burying your face closer against his body, you let out a small whimper, focusing on the melodic thumping of his healthy heart. You could even hear the pace speed up as your cheek pressed up against him. 

“Beel, you alright?” 

The sound of eating stopped, and a clink of something metallic against glass sounded before a second arm enveloped you, a hand settled at the back of your head. “I’ll eat in a little bit,” Beel whispered. 

“In a--” 

“Shhhh! Shut up, Mammon!” 

“I mean…” The voice returned to barely audible. “Whadda sayin’ ‘in a bit’? You’re not sick again are ya?” Beel didn’t grace anyone with a response. You were gently squeezed in his hug, a weight coming down on top of your head, presumably his chin. The hand behind your head moved to the space between your shoulder blades, moving up and down in rhythmic strokes along your spine. It was uncanny, you thought, how he almost immediately knew how desperate you were for some comfort. Or maybe he was just perceptive like that. If anyone would be, it would be Beel. 

“How are they feeling?” Someone asked. 

Cooler air poured against your face as the space left for you to breathe was made wider. Light from the dining hall illuminated outside your eyelids. Beel’s hand pressed against your forehead, moving down to cup your cheeks. Out of everyone, he always ran the warmest, bordering on nearly being a walking furnace. And yet even he moaned in unease, his stomach groaning alongside him in worry. “Still too hot,” he announced. You allowed yourself to flicker your eyes open, looking up at him just as he moved his hand away. Both his eyebrows raised in surprise before he quickly frowned. “Did I wake you up? Sorry.” You figured that now that everyone knew you were up, it would be time to move. Sitting up straighter in your spot, you wiggled one of your arms out of your cocoon, pulling the fabric of your blanket off your head, letting it settle around your waist. You rubbed spots out from your vision, blinking as you soaked in the sight of the room. 

Asmo politely dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin, settling it back in his lap before addressing you with the sweetest pair of eyes. “Good evening, darling! How’re you feeling?” 

You had half of a mind to try to play the “I’m fine” card, but with your fit with Satan and fainting scare with Mammon, it would be no use to even try to pretend you were fine. So you didn’t see the harm in being honest. “Like I’ve been to hell and back.” 

“You are in hell,” Belphie quipped. 

“You know what I mean.” You turned your head and glanced up, your heart pounding more prominently when you once again realized just how big Beel was compared to you, an otherworldly size. Sweeping away your embarrassment, you started tugging at the blanket to free your legs, moving to leave his lap. “Sorry, Beel.” 

His hand grabbed one of your wrists. “What do you mean?” He tugged at you, repositioning you firmer in his lap. “You didn’t do anything.” His beautiful amethyst irises stared right into yours. “I wanted you here. Meals aren’t the same without you.” He pat the top of your head, letting his fingers scratch gently into your scalp. In most situations, you’d find your open vulnerability to be embarrassing, but right now you couldn’t care less. You leaned back into him, nestling your nose into his chest, using his body to block out the light. Beel gripped the blanket and pulled it back up to settle around your shoulders. 

“Speaking of meals,” Lucifer started. “It’s about time MC had something to eat.” 

Satan spoke up. “Do we even have anything decent enough for sick humans to have?” The brothers went back and forth for a while, bringing recommendations hypothetically to the table about what would be best for you. 

“Belphie knows the most about humans, what do you think?” Beel wondered. 

A lone monotone hum rang out for a moment. “I think it was stew or something like that.” 

A strange bout of irritation drilled in you. You turned your head, addressing the group. “You know you could just ask the human right here. I might be sick but I’m not completely helpless.” 

Brusque tones usually granted you grating glares, but even Lucifer seemed to give you a pass. “So?” The eldest questioned. “Tell us what you need and we can get it for you.” 

Something about that knocked the rebellious wind out of you. You lowered your head a bit and sighed. “Don’t even worry about it, I’m not hungry anyway.” A bold statement to claim whilst sitting in the lap of Gluttony. 

Shaking you lightly, Beel squinted at you. “You’ve barely eaten all day.” The expression on his face turned Lucifer levels of stern. It wasn’t an appearance he took too often. Even now you knew this was a losing battle. A flash of a memory popped up in your mind, one of when Beel had been sick. You pressed your lips together into a thin line. 

“It’s fine.” 

“It’s not.” 

“Beel--” 

“MC. Eat.” His flat tone trembled throughout his body, sending a shudder through you. Lucifer was always strict, so it never caught you off guard, not anymore. But when Beel got this way it pierced through everyone in the room. As if they’d been the one commanded, everyone took a single bite of their meal. 

You gave in, your stature shrinking. “Fine...something light then. Soup’s fine. I’ll go get some…” 

Beel’s arms wrapped around you again, keeping you to him. “No you won’t. Levi.” 

The third-born almost yelped, sinking down into his seat before stuttering. “S-sure, I-I’ll get it…” As he headed to the kitchen you could hear him grumble. “Of course he had to pick me. Why me? It’s always me…” You felt a bit sorry for the otaku as he slunk away. In fact you almost felt sorry for everyone in the room. Even just alluding to the skip of a meal had Beel suddenly tense, on alert. He had you held against him in a guarded manner, his torso bent forward to lean over what he could of yours. He didn’t settle back down till Levi came back in a handful of minutes later, resting a bowl of soup in front of you. It was of human origins you assumed, it looked like regular chicken noodle. The aroma had bits of nostalgia bubble within you. And now that it was here, you hated to admit that you actually were hungry. 

You reached over to try to grab a spoon, falling just a bit short of the table’s edge. Beel’s arms were admittedly much longer than yours, not needing to sit as close as you usually did. Beel grasped a clean utensil for you, getting a decent portion of stock in it’s dip. He held his other hand under the spoon to make sure he didn’t spill any, then he brought it over to you. Did you try to deny it? Maybe a little, but Beel’s spine-chilling glower had you reconsider. You opened your mouth and let him feed you. The hot broth slid down your sore throat easily, relieving some of the pain. As it warmed you up from the inside, Beel finally went back to smiling, everyone breathing in relief. “See, doesn’t it make you feel better?” Beel brought a new spoonful to your lips. 

You swallowed again and admittedly nodded. “A bit.” 

Out of the blue, Beel brought his face down, planting a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Some of his siblings gasped, but if the demon of gluttony heard it, he pretended he hadn’t. His free hand went back to rubbing your back, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t nice, the many sensations driving some of the pain from your mind. “Good,” Beel beamed. “Remember, your body needs fuel to keep going.” 

“I know…” The parallel between now and when he had been sick was almost perfect. Beel took the bowl in his hands, bringing it over to settle in your lap, keeping it steady in his hold. “Isn’t it hot?” You asked, worried he’d burn his skin. 

“Not to me,” he assured you. 

You sighed, taking the spoon from him so you could eat yourself. “Thank you for always looking out for me, Beel.”

You expected him to be pleased, but he quickly turned downcast. “I couldn’t protect you from this.” Heart breaking, all you could do was stare down into your lap, watching the broth gently swirl in the bowl. This had mostly been your fault. If you had done something just a bit differently, maybe…

“No, Beel, that wasn’t your fault,” Belphie spoke up, pushing his plate with his leftovers on it closer to his twin to finish. “Besides, it’s your job now to take care of MC now more than ever, right?” 

Beel turned his head away from the food, peering down at you in his lap. He nodded once, bringing his head down to press his forehead to yours. “You’re right. Sick or not, I’ll always watch over them.” 

After dinner, Beel carried you back up to bed, reluctant to let you be free of his arms, but he managed. After giving you one last once-over and another little kiss to your temple, he hurried back down to the dining hall. After all, he was far from having his fill of food. Lucifer had followed the two of you inside, taking your temperature once more. 100.7, still higher than he’d prefer it to be, but glad to discover it had gone down even if just by a hair. He allowed you to take some medicine and urged you to get some more rest. Flicking the light off, he wished you sweet dreams before he left, torn away from you by work he couldn’t ignore. Although, even with the comfort of your bed and the satisfying feeling of something warm in your belly, for the first time, slumber eluded you. It wasn’t that you weren’t tired--exhaustion might as well have been your permanent state at this point--but shutting your mind off, drifting away into peaceful bliss didn’t seem like an option right now. 

You spent a few hours on your D.D.D. scrolling through posts and web-pages, anything to keep you occupied. Although, that eventually bored you after a while. You sat up, trying to not let the loneliness of your empty room consume you. Had everyone gone to bed already? Had you already gotten used to falling asleep with someone beside you? That couldn’t be the case, right? You slowly got out from under your covers, padding over to the door. Maybe if you walked around the House of Lamentation enough, you’d be able to go to bed. You were feeling a bit better, capable of moving around on your own at the very least. You entered the empty hallway, the midnight moon rays creeping across the rug settled across the stone floor. The branches outside the windows cast twisted shadows across the corridor. Some people might’ve found it dreadful, but whether it was your own stranger tastes or the fact that you’d been down here so long, you found it to be serene in a mystical sort of way. 

Drifting through the halls like a weary ghost patrolling the perimeter, you wandered past each of the brother’s rooms. The house was surprisingly still. Before you knew it, you ended up in the music room. Shifting your feet towards the gorgeous ebony piano, your fingers brushed lightly over the ivory keys. Pushing down a low B, the note reverberated through the room, your skin tingling at the broken silence. It quenched some of your boredom. So you pushed another one, the lowest note this time, the deep tone rumbling through you. 

“Having fun are we?” 

You jumped, every hair across your body standing up on end. Swirling around, you met a pair of ruby eyes in the shadows. A string of curses left your lips. “What in hell’s name are you doing, Lucifer? Nearly scared me to death…” You pressed a hand to your beating chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You sunk to your knees, the wind knocked out of you. 

He stepped further into the light, arms crossed, almost fuming. “I could ask you the same question. Once again I have to wonder, what are you doing out of bed? Are you that determined not to recover, is that it?” Hair slightly messy, well-tailored pajamas barely creased, you figured he must’ve just gotten out of bed, possibly disturbed before he could fall asleep. It would explain the death glare he was giving you. 

“I...couldn’t sleep,” you answered truthfully, followed by an innocent little shrug. 

With two fingers, he pinched at the bridge of his nose. “And so Levi just let you waltz around on your own?” 

You tilted your head. “Levi?” 

Something dawned on him with your confused question. A terrifying smile arched over his face, the corners twitching as the small amount of light in the room was snuffed out by his menacing aura. “Leviathan…” Yelping at the sudden movement, Lucifer hoisted you over one of his shoulders, gliding across the floor at a ridiculous pace until he was in front of Levi’s room. You wiggled, beating a gentle fist against Lucifer’s back. 

“Let me down!” 

He let you slide off of him, settling you back on your feet, but he quickly grasped one of your hands to keep you to his side. Despite his furious demeanor, he gently knocked on the door, waiting for approximately two seconds before knocking harder. “Levi!”

You heard the otaku approach his door before he swung it open. “What?! I’m in the middle of a very important raid! What could you possibly need--” The entrance to the room cracked open, Levi sticking his head out before all the color drained from his face. The tangerine hue of his eyes flickering from you to his older brother, the demon with paper-thin patience. Levi gulped, the little bump in his throat bobbing.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but didn’t I inform you that you would be keeping an eye on MC tonight?” The higher lilt in his question was laced with hostility. “Or maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” You felt a pang of guilt for the demon of envy. 

“Lucifer,” you urged, tugging at his hand which kept you in a vice grip. “I’ll go back to bed, it’s not an issue.” He was ready to blow a gasket, the weariness of dealing with work and keeping his brother’s shenanigans at bay without your assistance clearly was affecting him. Who knew he’d come to depend on you this much? You reached up, rubbing his shoulder with the sweetest look you could come up with. “Please, don’t be angry.” 

Shutting his eyes, squeezing your hand, he gave himself time to breathe. “MC, rest. Levi, take care of them. And no, I’m not asking.” The dark circles under Lucifer’s eyes almost seemed to run blacker, his irises duller than they should’ve been. 

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” you comforted him. “Go get some sleep yourself.” 

His shoulders sagged ever so slightly. “The sick shouldn't be fussing over the hale and whole, you know, but I will. I shall see you tomorrow.” He brought your hand up, kissing it before he let it go. “And, Levi.” The demon of envy flinched, hoping that he’d been forgotten. “I’ll see you tomorrow as well.” 

Levi hung his head low as his older brother walked away, preemptively sniffling at his possible doom. “...and my raid is ruined…T-this is just the worst.” You were a bit sorry for Levi for being thrown at you like this, but you couldn’t help but wonder in the back of your mind if he...had forgotten about you. You watched the outline of Lucifer disappear into the darkness before you shivered. The temperature inside the house was dropping. “Huh?” Levi snapped out of his pitiful thoughts. “Are you-are you cold?” 

“A little…” 

“O-oh, I guess...maybe...Would it be alright if you stayed in my room tonight?” His stance shifted behind his door, anxiously moving his gaze around to keep from making direct eye contact with you. 

Sighing, you nodded. After all, with the adrenaline crash, you doubted you had energy left to walk back to your room. “Sure.” 

He let you in, shutting the door behind you and locking it with a magical charm to keep the riff-raff out. He scurried over to his tub-bed, pulling out some random plush collectibles, and letting them rest against the floor for now. He spun on his feet for a moment, taking in his room before bringing his thumb up to bite on the nail of it. “Y-you can stay anywhere, I have some blankets I guess...Gah! Why did Lucifer have to make me watch you?” The heart in your chest sank a bit, and you lowered your head, a small “oh” leaving your lips. Clutching his hair, Levi immediately regretted what he said. “No! No no no no, that’s-that’s not what I-I-I--” He stuttered for a good while, unable to grasp proper control of his tongue. “Wait, wait!” Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he picked up one last Ruri-Chan plush from the bed, covering part of his face with it. “I just...I don’t remember the last time I took care of someone sick…Knowing me, I-I’ll somehow make you worse! What-what if I’m forced to make a split second decision that could be the-the difference between life and death?! I’ll end up killing you! Living the rest of my life in isolated drunken regret!” 

He quickly spiraled down a slippery slope of what-ifs, a dramatic fantasy playing out before him where he’d been cast out of the Devildom as your murderer, a disgusting vagabond, living on wildberries and wildlife with naught but his loneliness and shadow to keep him company. His rising anxiety was making him hyperventilate. You had to come over to him, gently take his shoulders and shake him slightly, dragging him back to reality. “Levi, I highly, highly doubt it will come to that. When Lucifer means ‘take care of me’ he mostly means making sure I have what I need.” You gave the sides of his arms a little rub. 

“But I don’t know what you need!” 

“Well, what I need right now is for you to calm down, first off,” you told him, dropping your hands back to your sides, gripping the end of the tub. Climbing into his bed had never really been an issue before, but hoisting yourself over the edge proved difficult a task. You felt his shaky hands come under your arms, hoisting you enough till you could sink yourself into his nest of pillows. You grinned, thanking him as you reached up to rub the top of his head. “See? Stuff like that, nothing too difficult. Fetch quests and escort missions. Easy mode. I’ll be here, just do your own thing.” 

That seemed to ease him enough. He gripped one of his blankets and pulled it over you, moving back over to his desk. Muttering about the raid, he clacked at the keys, his mood steadily improving the more he lost himself in the world of gaming. You felt at the fabric of your pants, remembering with a small moan that they didn’t have pockets...meaning you’d left your D.D.D. in your room. Figures, you thought. So, in your last ditch effort to stay entertained, you moved Levi’s pillows around, making a small wall to prop yourself against, peering over the top of the basin to stare at his screen. You watched his character move around, fighting random enemies. He was completely absorbed, lightly talking to himself as he moved along, humming the victory theme anytime a quest was completed. At one point, he was paying too much attention to a beautifully fleshed out character model to notice what they were telling him, information that he needed to know but missed out on. After that, he was sent towards a boss that ended up instantly killing him when it finished charging up its “claymore of chaos’ move. Levi tried one more time, then three more times, and then about twenty. “What the heck?! How am I supposed to beat you?!” Levi finally shouted, pushing himself slightly away from his desk. 

Speaking up for the first time in a few hours, you shared with him the information he missed. “You’re supposed to use your Mystical Missile spell.” 

He jumped, almost falling out of his chair. “I thought you were asleep!” 

“I still can’t sleep…I don’t know why.” You pulled your blanket tighter around you, peeking at him from your spot. A blush ran over his cheeks, rubbing the back of his head. 

“Oh...Really? Mystical Missile? But it’s a trashy beginner spell.” 

“That NPC lady said it would work, I dunno.” You shrugged. “Try it out, it can’t hurt.” 

So he did, removing one of his high level skills to equip the basic one. Severely doubting success, he entered the boss arena again. It was admittedly tense, keeping you both on the edge of your seat. Once “claymore of chaos” was building, Levi let the spell fly towards him. The boss staggered, a crack forming in it’s armor. “It worked!” He shouted, yelping as a new flurry of enemy spells flew towards his character.  If it was entertainment you were looking for, you found it, cheering him on as he hunched over, focused on his every move. Once it went down, you both whooped and cheered. It had been a bit too much for your lungs, dissolving into some coughs. Levi rushed to his feet, rubbing your back. “You okay?” 

You nodded, letting your body shudder with a few more hacks till it was done. Voice more hoarse than before, you still smiled at him. “You did it!” 

A laugh bubbled out of him. “Victory! Dun dun dun! Legendary item acquired!” Then his expression fell for a second. “Have you just been sitting there, watching me the whole time?” You nodded. He gripped one of his hoodie sleeves. “Would you rather do something...together?” 

You brightened. “Sure!” 

Giddy, he hurried over to the computer, picking up his loot before saving the game, closing the program. “If you’re in the mood for watching something, how about this new anime I found? I’m only a few episodes in, but I can start over! It’s called ‘I Transferred To A New School, But Everyone There Is Part Of The Elite, So I Have To Try And Keep Up With My Classmates Despite Me Being Normal, But I Accidentally Fooled The School Into Thinking I’m A Long Lost Heir To A Forgotten Throne’.” 

Blinking, you stared at him. “You lost me at Elite.” Why the Devildom had anime with titles the length of chapters, you’d never know. 

“It’s good! I promise!” He shifted his monitor so you could see it from your spot easier, turning the anime on with an elated aura, much nicer than the gloom-and-doom one from earlier. This was the Levi you loved to see, the one you tried to cherish as much as you could. He sat in his chair, scooting back till he was beside you so you could watch it together. It was a cute anime, something mostly a slice of life, a normal main character in a school setting surrounded by powerful beings, the plot moved forward with magical shenanigans...something about it sounded familiar. One of the episodes showed the main character fallen ill under some strange circumstance, their roommate they stayed with flustered but determined to take care of them. The friend--and obvious love interest--asked if he could hold the protagonist’s hand. Levi made a little noise. “MC, c-can I hold your hand? I mean, if that’s super weird don’t even listen to me because who would even want to hold hands with me anyway and--” 

“Sure,” you smiled, reaching your hand out from the blanket a little. 

He hesitated for a second and then took it, resuming to watch the show. Much to your amusement, any move the character made, he made as well, taking it as if it were some sort of guide. He brushed the hair from your face, made sure the blanket was tucked gently around you, ensured you were comfortable. Then, the friend in the show made a bold move, snuggling next to the main character as they both fell asleep. Levi went stiff, becoming extremely flustered. You had to admit, the concept was...enticing, and you almost leapt at any opportunity to tease envy. You tugged at his hand, making him look at you with your arms outstretched. If this had been an anime, he would’ve collapsed, his soul flying from his mouth. But even Levi couldn’t resist the temptation. He stepped into his bed, slowly, warily at first. He let you take him into your arms, wrapping his own body around you as you both squeezed together in the tub. “I...I...This is...a dream…” 

You chuckled, settling your head on his chest, feeling his motoring heart pound in his chest. “Let’s watch some more, Levi.” Only, you hardly remembered anything after that. For shortly after he curled against you, the strange barrier keeping you awake completely collapsed. He had draped the blanket over you both, fidgeting with the hair at the nape of your neck. You must’ve turned your head against him, comforted enough by his presence to fall asleep.

“Medicine?” 

“Right here.” 

“Water?” 

“You brought me like a gallon’s worth.” 

“D.D.D.?” 

“You can see it in my hands.” 

Lucifer went down the list, the actual written list he’d come up. You sat in bed, trying hard not to blush and squirm under the many gazes in your room this morning. “Extra blankets?” 

“I have everything and anything needed to last an entire week in solitary!” You shook your head, a little irate at each of them, but appreciating their concern all the same. Icepacks, blankets, snacks, water, bandages, and many other things were brought in your room in preparation. “You all are only going to a Student Council meeting, not off on some lengthy business trip.” 

“Absolutely right!” Asmo shouted, sitting next to you in bed, hugging you to him and caressing your cheek against his. “It’s some stupid meeting anyway, which means one of us can stay can’t we?” 

Every member of the household was already shouting reasons why they and they alone should have the opportunity to stay with you. Lucifer’s little vein above his eyebrow throbbed. “Enough!” The room went silent. “As much as I would love to permit myself to stay home,” he cleared his throat, “not a single one of us can miss today’s meeting. Which is why I’m taking every precaution. EDP?” 

You gently pushed Asmo off of you, raising an eyebrow. The demon of lust pouted, stroking your head instead. “What’s an EDP?” You asked. 

“An EDP is a short term we use for an Emergency Defense Pillar,” Satan explained. “A popular and fairly new little device in the Devildom, especially for lesser magic users or those who aren’t trained in combat.” 

“I’m still at a loss,” you admitted. “Is it like a baton or something?” 

Rummaging around in his pockets, Mammon brandished a small black object. It was cylindrical, about as big as a lighter, a glowing red button on the side. “I brought it! Now, let me teach you, human. If you’re being chased or cornered, this handy lil’ doodad is going to be essential if you wanna escape. You just push this little button here, and--” 

Lucifer’s chest tightened. “Mammon, don’t!” 

The second born pressed the button, his mistake just now clicking in his mind, chucking it a bit in front of him. Asmo grabbed you and tucked you against his chest, pushing your back to the wall while he shielded you with his body. Every other brother hit the floor, jumping away from the object. A huge pillar of fire sprouted from the object, swirling blue flames emitting intense heat as well as a roaring sound. It nearly burnt your eyes. Asmo tucked your head into his shoulder, waiting until the fire was suddenly sucked back into the small container, rattling against the floor. Your protector pulled away from you, letting you stare at the pitch black circle burnt into your ceiling and floor, a round chunk taken out of your carpet, some fibers still flickering. Lucifer came over and snuffed out the singed pieces with his shoe, the vein in his head more prominent. He was about to shout but you beat him to it. “That’s absolutely unnecessary! In what scenario would I need to use that?! Is there even a safety on that thing?!” 

A little sheepish, Mammon picked himself back up off the floor. “Well, you’ve gotten the best visual example you can get. You’re welcome.” 

“I don’t want it, someone take it with them,” you groaned. “What if I end up accidentally getting flame-broiled in my sleep?”  

Beel closed his eyes. “Flame-broiled hell bats…” 

Lucifer bent down and picked up the EDP from the floor. “Perhaps this is a bit too dangerous.” 

“Glad we can see eye to eye on that one…” You tapped the screen of your D.D.D., noticing that the time to the meeting was rapidly approaching. “You guys have fifteen minutes! Stop worrying about me and get out of here!” 

Many wide-eyed demons scrambled to get out your door, knowing that the punishment for being late was not something they wanted to risk. Even Lucifer was rushed, booking it out of your room. Then he popped his head in. “You’ll call if anything happens?” 

“Yes.” 

He left again, the door shutting. It burst back open, his overprotective nature coming to light. “You have your alerts on, right?” 

You chuckled, you couldn’t prevent yourself from doing so. “Yes, mother hen, now go!” He growled, but this time left for good, the uproar from the group slowly fading away. Once more, you shook your head, staring at the charcoal colored circle against your ceiling. “They’re insane,” you stated aloud. 

“Truly,” someone replied. You yelped, chucking the closest pillow at the sudden voice. Solomon caught it, laughing. “Sorry for startling you. The demons are gone, I’m assuming?” He walked back over, handing you your plushy ammo. 

“They just left. Why are you here?” You took the pillow from him, settling it in your lap as you crossed your legs over your mattress. 

He pulled an upset face. “Why do you sound so suspicious? I’m here to check up on you. I had to make sure those demons were taking care of you properly.” He grabbed a chair from your table, scooting up by the bedside. He spotted the hard-to-miss burns and sighed. “Maybe I should’ve gotten here sooner. Oh well, an easy fix. Spirits of twine and stone, turn back the time to whence this matter was well known, heed the Sorcerer Solomon!” Flowing restorative magic rushed over the floor and ceiling, soaking into the atoms, leaving it as perfect as it had been earlier. Actually, almost better than how it had been before. Not even the smell of burning remained. In a small flourish, he stretched out his hands. “Ta-da.” 

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “And the brothers have been taking care of me just fine. I don’t have a fever anymore.” 

He reached his hand out, thumb brushing across your face, he hummed to himself before pulling you gently, pressing his lips to your forehead. You gasped a little, covering your mouth as your face burned. He sat back, nodding. “You feel much better.” He caught your expression, trying to stifle a smirk. “Hm? I was simply taking your temperature.” 

Composing yourself, you tightly gripped the pillow in your hands. “Kinda an old method, don’t you think?” 

“I prefer traditional practices,” he shared. “But that wasn’t the main reason I came over.” 

“Oh?” You’ll admit, at first the EDP had seemed utterly ridiculous, but in this dreaded scenario, you almost wished to have it in your hands. Solomon pushed back his cloak, reaching behind his back and pulling out a fresh steaming plate of food. Already you felt sweat bead across your face. “A-ah, how nice of Simeon to make me something.” It was more of a personal wish, although you knew that it wasn’t going to be the case. 

“Not Simeon, actually. I made it!” He beamed, completely oblivious. “How long has it been since you’ve had a home-cooked human meal?” 

“N-not too long ago actually, and-I-um-the brothers made sure to feed me before they left so-” 

“Surely you can have a few bites, right?” He pleaded. “I made sure to add all kinds of ingredients I know have some healing properties, so I’m sure it’ll enhance the flavor. Here, no need to waste extra energy, let me feed you. Say ah.” 

“MC!” The sound of someone frantically calling your name in the distance slowly brought you to. “MC!” Something snapped as you moved, pain coursing through your entire body. You opened your eyes, not able to see much through the leaves. Wait...leaves? The smell of earth and roses rushed to your nose. That and the thorns trapping you and piercing you were enough to tell you what you needed to know. You were somehow entangled in a rose bush. The voice sounded again, closer this time. “MC, where are you?!” 

Audio recognition kicked in, able to place the voice. Tilting your head back, you put all the power you could into your shout. “Belphie!” There was silence for a while, and white hot panic settled in your stomach...or maybe that was. Oh that was right…

Suddenly the leaves were pulled back, Belphie’s head staring down at you. “This is new for you.” 

You tried to move, but your clothes were stuck in the thorn’s clutches, not to mention any movement you made drove the bush’s claws deeper into your skin. “I…I think I’m stuck.” 

“Wow, that really sucks for you.” 

“Belphie!” You tried sitting up, a sharp pain in your cheek causing you to hiss, drawing in breath through your teeth. Something drifted down your cheek, the taste of bitter copper coming across your lips. Blood. “P-please help me.”

“I was only joking. Don’t move, you’ll make things worse.” He tugged at some of the branches, the disruption poking you some more. Tugging at your sleeve, he detangled your shoulder, working on your lower arm next. 

“Ow, ow, ooooow,” you whined. 

“Don’t be such a baby.” Leaning down a bit too far, one of the thorns pricked him right in the thumb. He cursed, threatening to leave you alone once you laughed. “You’re really scratched up…” He frowned as he gestured to many thin red scratches across your body. You whimpered again, reaching up at him to tug you free. Sloth kicked in, his impatience to take his time fluttered away. He basically flattened the bush with his feet, breaking the twigs stuck to you with his hands. His arms wrapped around your torso, tugging you up, the sound of some fabric tearing as he did. He sighed, taking you a few steps away from the bush before letting you slide past his arms, flopping to the soil. He came down to kneel beside you, grabbing thorns and leaves out of your hair, rubbing a thumb over the small wound on your cheek. “When you wonder why we worry about leaving you alone, this is why. How long have you been napping in bushes?” 

“I…” A sudden chill overtook you, your stomach and the food...you remembered the food Solomon had fed you. The taste...torture. You could feel it in your throat. 

“MC?” You pushed Belphie away, scrambling on your hands and knees to another unfortunate set of flora. Without nitty gritty details, let’s just say your body had the smart idea to not keep Solomon’s food in you any longer. Trembling, you coughed up the last of it, cold sweat dripping down your face. Belphie’s hands touched your back. “You’re not going to be sick on me, are you?” You didn’t respond to him, trying to catch your breath. He mumbled, pulling you into his lap. Covered in dirt and sweat, you curled into him, shivering. Then the both of you watched in slight horror as all the plants planted around your...expulsed poison all wilted at once, almost crumbling to dust. “Wicked father of demons…” Belphie breathed. “What the hell did you eat?” 

You only needed to utter one word for him to understand everything entirely. “Solomon…” 

“Dear Diavolo…I’m lucky to have found you alive.” He whipped his head around. “He’s not still here is he?” 

You shook your head, rubbing at the saliva on your lips. “I don’t remember...I don’t remember leaving my room…I don’t remember…” 

Working hard to get to his feet, he lifted you along with him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs against his body, groaning into him. “Alright, I guess we’re doing this now.” He held onto you, sidestepping past the destroyed flora and towards the house. “I’m just telling you this now though, if Solomon is still here, I will leave you.” 

Reaching up his neck, you grasped tightly onto some of his hairs. “I will drag you down with me.” 

“Confident words for someone I’m carrying like a baby,” he snickered, but he let the witty back and forth drop as he entered the house. For a moment, he stood still, taking in the air of the place. “I think we’re good,” he announced, but continuing to take wary steps up the stairs. He picked up the pace in the hallways, sneaking away towards the familiar spiral staircase that led it’s way up to the attic. The doors he pushed open were heavy in more ways than one. Quietly shutting it behind the two of you, he headed over to the bed. A jolting ticklish pain raced down your body as Belphie jabbed his fingers against your waist. “Off, parasite.” You relinquished your grasp as fast as you could, flopping onto the attic mattress. You crawled up, sliding under the covers, planting your face into the nearest pillow. Right when you thought you were recovering, you were back to being bed-ridden. Belphie left you alone in silence for a minute. When he came back, you had to take a moment to realize he had ever been gone. He was stealthy like that. He dropped a small first-aid kit as well as a bottle of water on the blanket. “Come here.” 

“But I-” 

“But I,” he mocked. “But I don’t care. I need to look after some of those scratches.” Huffing, you dramatically threw the blanket to the side, coming over to sit in front of him. Taking the water bottle in hand, you gratefully moved to take a hearty swig to wash down some of the acid. Belphie grabbed it from you before you could. “Not for drinking.” He twisted the cap off and pulled out a small clean washcloth from his pockets. He pressed the fabric against the opening and tilted the bottle up, getting the rag slightly wet. He then pressed it against your cheek. “We don’t want these infected.” Slowly, he dabbed at each of your shallow scratches, making sure they were clear of dirt. Once he was done with that, he shoved the remaining water at you. 

“I don’t want your rag water.” 

“Fine.” 

But the acidity in your mouth was grating against your teeth. You snatched the bottle from him, swallowing some grateful gulps to cease the gentle burning. Belphie had a mild cocky expression, wiping away the blood. Closing an eye due to slight stinging, you watched his concentrated face. “So…” You started, watching him soon open the box and remove a small tube of medicated ointment. “Why’re you home?” 

Squeezing a small amount of the clear gel on the tip of his finger, he started applying it to your cleaned wounds. “Oh, I snuck out of the meeting.” 

“Belphie!” 

“What?” He took one hand, grabbing your face for a second, squishing your cheeks, mimicking the way your lips pursed. You shook him off, trying to keep yourself from being flustered. “Can you blame me? All I could think about was you...nice and warm in bed...and I was sleepy.” He let out a large yawn. “Still sleepy.” 

“Well…” You paused for a second, heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m glad you did.” 

He stopped for a second, looking into your eyes. “Hm? Say that again?” 

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you furled your eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“Are you suuuure?” He drawled. “Cus it sounded like you missed me.” One look at your embarrassed face sent him laughing. He poked at your ribs, tickling your sides, singing the words. “You missed me, you missed me.” 

Burying your face in your hands, you kicked him a little. “Stop it!” 

“Fine,” he smirked. “Anyway, I think you’re mostly taken care of. Most of these have dried and scabbed over. They weren’t very deep anyway.” He lifted your arm, turning it to make sure he’d treated you completely. “So now we can do what I came here for!” It was his first excited expression in a while. He jumped into you, grabbing you by the waist against the bed. Both your heads hit the pillows, the blanket following shortly after. Already you could feel his face against your back. A happy hum of his buzzed into your skin, his hands rubbing against your stomach. Pouting a little, you realized that with Belphie stuck to you like this, you weren't going anywhere soon, so you shifted to get comfortable. You relaxed with a heavy sigh. “You know…” Belphie drowsily muttered. “I...missed...you too…” 

“MC! My poor precious MC! I’m never ever leaving you alone again!” Asmo wailed, clinging to you like if he let you go you’d suddenly die. “I can’t believe Belphie did this to you!” 

Speaking up from the corner, Belphie scoffed. “I actually helped them, just so everyone knows.” Back in your room, each of the demon brothers had returned from the meeting, having found you and Belphie after a while in the attic. Of course, your small wounds, Belphie’s absence, and the strange destruction of a segment of the garden was called into question. 

“And my plants!” Asmo shrieked. “They were such a lovely background for my Devilgram posts! They’re ruined!” 

“I’m so-” you tried to apologize, but Asmo pressed a gentle finger against your lips. 

“Shush! I don’t blame you a single bit, my darling. It’s all these ruffians!” He kissed your cheek in spots around your little wound. 

“Hey! Solomon’s the person responsible, not us!” Mammon shouted. 

Lucifer’s weariness was especially noticeable today. You wondered what he had to put up with at the meeting. “At the very least, we’re glad you’re safe, MC. Knowing what Solomon’s cuisine is capable of…” He pinched at the bridge of his nose. “I’m heading to my office...try not to burn the house down,” he sighed, exiting quietly. 

You tilted your head. “Is he okay?” You asked. 

“When Belphie left, let’s just say Diavolo wasn’t exactly pleased,” Satan explained, a wicked grin stretching his lips wide. “So in exchange he agreed to be Diavolo’s personal servant tomorrow. I hope our Demon Lord has some entertaining things in store.” 

Belphie’s face brightened. “Did I do that? Whoops.” Hardly a glimmer of remorse in him. 

“You guys owe it to him at least to try and make it a calm night,” you urged, hoping to ease some of the shenanigans already being plotted in their minds. 

Mammon shook his head. “Why do we gotta owe him anything? If he’s out for the count tonight, I can hit the casinos without a problem!” He came over rubbing your head. “Give me some of that luck, yeah?” You doubted you had any, but he bounded out the door. 

“Belphie, I’ve got a little idea I’d like to try, but I need an extra set of hands. Care to join me?” Satan curled a little finger around his chin, mischief making his green eyes glow wild. 

Belphie chuckled. “Ab-so-lutely.” With devilish grins, they both sniggered, malevolent whispers drifting between them as they left. 

A rumbling growl echoed through the room. If this had been anywhere else, you would’ve been terrified. But this was the Devildom, and you knew Beel’s stomach when you heard it. “Oh...I’m sorry, MC, but I’m starving. I’ll see you in a bit.” He came over, trying to give you a hug despite Asmo still holding onto you for dear life. He ended up hugging both of you anyway. With more than a little speed, he also left your room, probably heading straight for the kitchen. 

A high pitched ‘bling’ reached your ears. Levi pulled out his D.D.D.. “Oh! The new patch for Sorcerer’s Scrolls has been released! I gotta go!” He moved to run but stopped in his tracks before he got too far. “Do you wanna...watch more of that show tonight?” 

“Sure, Levi,” you smiled, watching him sprint out of the room, a joyful spring in his step. Although, once everyone had left, you couldn’t help but lower your head, patting Asmo’s wrist. “You can leave too, Asmo, you don’t have to stay with me.” 

He made an overly dramatic gasp. “But I do! Don’t sound so sad!” Pulling a bit away from you, he let his cheeks turn a bit pink. “And to be completely honest, I’ve been dying to get some alone time with you.” He squirmed a little bit, but then jumped to his feet. “So! You just sit there and let Nurse Asmo take care of everything, ‘kay ‘kay?” Is that why he had brought that large bag with him when he came in? It was a peach-colored tote bag, settled on your table, a fluffy pink pom-pom clipped to one of the handles. He bounded towards it, rummaging around, looking for something important.

A little--well a lot--guarded against potential Asmo intentions, you tried craning your head to see if you could look inside, but no dice. The end of your nose tickled again as it had the past few days. Grabbing another tissue from your bedside, you tried to blow your nose as quietly as possible. Your poor nostrils were so dry by this point it was bordering on painful. You sniffled, reaching over to squirt some hand sanitizer in your hands. “I thought you hated being around sick people,” you told him. 

“You’re the only exception! Besides,” he grabbed out a familiar tool, one you had no idea how he got his hands on it. A stethoscope. “I want to use all these goodies Solomon got me!” 

The name still almost sent a shudder down your spine. “Solomon? Why?” 

Practically skipping back over, he sat beside you on the bed, strangely excited about this. “Aren’t bodies fascinating?” He touched his own skin, dragging his hand down his neck. “I love to know what makes this perfect body run! And you have absolutely no idea how desperately I’ve longed to know how yours does too!” Taking a good look at him, you could sense that he was truly and undeniably curious as to how your mortal body differed from his. Or possibly just craving a closer look into you altogether. Of course, you still had to close your eyes and deeply sigh. How many times would Solomon be the source of general chaos? Asmo took the end to the stethoscope, looking at it strangely. “Tell me, dear, how does this work?” You let out a light chuckle, and he looked at you curiously. “Don’t make fun of me, that’s just mean!” 

“I’m not! I’m not, I promise, it’s just…” He resembled that of a little kid right now, a rare sort of innocence about him. Here he was, a demon of many millennia, and he just wanted to play doctor for a bit. “Never mind.” Brushing off your thoughts, you took the binaurals, putting the earpieces in his ears. One of his hands gently clutched the diaphragm, so you wrapped your own hand around his, guiding the end of the stethoscope to your chest. 

Listening it to a moment, you could watch the gentle awe cross over his face. “T-that’s you.” 

You brought a hand up to cover your mouth. “Yes, Asmo, that’s me. What, you didn’t think I had a heartbeat?” 

“No, I knew! It’s just…” He closed his eyes, going silent. You didn’t want to disturb his moment, but you felt a sneeze coming on. Grabbing another tissue, you covered your nose, tilted your head down towards your lap, and sneezed. Moaning a bit, you blew your nose again, hard enough to make your ears pop. Sitting up, you chucked your used kleenex into the trash. You were about to apologize, but then the glee drained from Asmo’s face. He brought his hands up to his mouth and shrieked. 

“What?! What’s wrong?!” As soon as you had asked, the answer presented itself towards you. Warmth dripped down your lips, forcing you to close your mouth as fast as you could. 

“Blood! You’re bleeding! Hold on!” Lurching towards the tissues, Asmo pulled five out at a time, pressing it against your face. You pinched your nose, pressuring your hand against the bundle of kleenex. “Look at all this! No, no, no, no, you’ll be alright, darling.” Your gut instinct was to tilt your head up, but Asmo placed his hand on the top of your head, tilting it slightly forward. “Oh, don’t do that, you’ll end up swallowing it. Stay there, I’ll be right back.” He got up sprinting, leaving you alone with the smell and taste of blood. When he came back, he had a cold wet rag in his hands. “Here, use this instead. Give me those,” he softly ordered, tugging at the already blood soaked tissues. You took the rag in your hands, using that to stop the flow instead. He pulled you into his arms, rubbing your back. “Poor thing, it’s just non-stop problems for you right now, isn’t it?” You let him hold you, tilting your head against his as you waited for the blood to stop.  Slowly, he brought his hand up to pet the back of your head, giggling a bit to himself when the action made you shiver. 

After a bit of time, you tore away from him, cautiously removing the rag. You touched just above your lip, sighing in relief when it had stopped. “That was unexpected.” 

Stealing the cloth from you, he started wiping the excess blood off your face. “About gave me a heart attack!” With his free hand, he cupped the side of your face. 

A little idea crossed your mind. “Heart attack, huh? Better check that out.” Reaching for the stethoscope, you cleaned the earpieces before putting them in, pressing the small round medical disc to his chest. It was a bit stunning, you had to admit, how loud it sounded. In the human world before, any mentions of demons or angels were always in an ethereal sense. Whether you believed in them or not, you never really thought about them having hearts. Were they even similar to yours? At least...the drumming beating sound of life was the same. 

He finished up cleaning you off, tilting his head and grinning. “Well?” 

“Undeniably alive...and I’m very grateful for it.” 

He squealed, flopping onto you, pushing you both down onto the bed. Every hint that he had been frightened before was gone. “Aren’t you just the sweetest?! Come here, you!” He littered kisses over your face, sending you into a little flurry of embarrassed titters. 

“Asmo…” 

“Isn’t it a human saying that they can kiss the pain away?” He pecked his lips over your eyelids. “Well, you better prepare yourself...I won’t stop kissing your perfect little face till you feel better!”

The bedroom door violently swung open, the handle nearly making a dent in the wall. Demons poured in, nearly falling over each other. They were all in demon forms, ready to tackle more danger. When they noticed that Asmo was fawning over you, they all puffed up, jealous and irritated. “We heard you scream and thought something happened!” Lucifer roared. Kinda late, weren’t they?

“Hey, why’re you getting all kissy with MC?!” Mammon jumped onto the mattress, trying to pry you from his brother’s arms. 

“Don’t you think I deserve to be embracing them?” Satan attempted to push them both aside. Before you knew it, your room was a small war-arena, everyone climbing on the bed. You were squished between them, passed between different hands. Then something wobbled, the sound of wood and metal groaning before a loud snap pierced your ears. The bed hit the floor, a poof of dust causing you to cough. Your bedframe lay scattered in broken pieces across the ground. 

“My...bed…” You ran a hand through your hair, pinned under the doggy-pile of demon lords. You looked between each of them with stern looks, each of them blushing in embarrassment over their actions. “Well...I guess it means I’ll be using someone else’s bed for the foreseeable future.” 

All at once, their faces lit up, and at the same time they all shouted the same thing. “Me!”

[ms-starflower]

Young Survivors — Maribat

It’s almost four am here, I just finished writing this and am just tired enough to actually go through and post it. And this title is the only thing my tired brain could come up with. Anyway. I haven't posted something I wrote in years, but all the Maribat I’ve read recently made me want to write something for it.

I don’t know if I’m ever going to write a 2 part, but if I do it’s definitely going to be Timari and contain a couple of typical Maribat tropes. And a pinch of salt.

Also, disclaimer: I haven't watched Miraculous in years and most of my DC knowlege come from fanfic or tumblr so... sorry not sorry.

Now with a part 2!

Next >

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei Leyton’s oldest memories were of her mother, dolled up in pretty dresses and elegant makeup. In her daughter‘s eyes, Margaret Leyton was the most beautiful woman on earth.

For as long as she could remember, Mei would sit on the bed and watch as her mom would get ready to head to work. She had always loved those moments with her mom.

(How do I look, my little flower,” she said, twirling around Mei with a grin, making her laugh. It was Margaret’s favorite dress, a vintage halter blue dress with white accents and a white bow around the waist.

��Like a princess, mommy! The prettiest princess ever!”

“Oh no, no no no. You are the prettiest princess ever, my little flower.”)

She was four when her mother let her help for the first time, letting her pass along brushes and products. It’s then that she understood what were the purple marks on her mother that she covered with her makeup.

(“Life is not fair to us, my little flower,” she had said when Mei asked about it for the first time. “Being an orphan and pretty little girl in Gotham isn’t safe, and it doesn’t give much choice when it comes to survival.”

Mei didn’t understand then, but it didn’t matter anyway, life would make her understand soon enough.)

When Mei was seven, the GCPD found her mother’s body.

When she didn’t see her that morning, Mei hadn’t been worried; it wasn’t the first time. Mom would be home by noon, she always was. Until that day.

(The investigation wouldn’t get very far, it was just another prostitute of Camellia street, nobody cared about them. They were just there until they weren’t anymore.

Another girl would take her place in a couple of days. It was how those kinds of things worked in Gotham.)

That day was kind of blurry in her memory. She remembers being pulled out of class in the morning, and that the cop that told her about her mother’s death was very rude.

(“Your mom is dead, kid. A lad found her body in a dumpster this morning,” the guy had said as soon as she had sat down in the headmistress’ office. “Do you know who she worked for? Or on what side of the Camellia she stayed?” He had asked, halfheartedly.

Mei had shaken her head, even though she did; you don’t talk to cops in Gotham, mom always says said that it was the easiest way to get yourself killed, for people like them.

“Alright,” he had said, not surprised. “A social worker is going to pick you up in a bit to take you to your new home, kid.”

With that he had walked out of the office, not looking back. As if where she would end up was going to be home.)

She remembers that the social worker from CPS was a brunette with tan skin, and looked really overworked, but had a kind smile.

By the end of the day, she was taken to Elliot's Hall for Children, an overcrowded, understaffed orphanage with more kids than they could realistically care for.

(They don’t care for the children, they just put them there for a while and act as they do. Most children leave after a couple of days, and if they don’t, they get taken anyway.

Some come back with a police escort, some manage to survive in the streets, and nobody talks about the ones that are never seen again.

You don’t work there because you love children, and if you do, you don’t last for very long.)

Mei wasn’t stupid, her mother told her stories about those kinds of places. She came from those kinds of places, and Mei saw how the man in charge here had looked at her when the social worker dropped her off.

She wasn’t going to just stand here and wait for him to sell her back in Camellia street. Or worse, to the Candy Dealers.

Taking with her what she absolutely couldn’t leave behind, Mei made a choice her mother hadn’t been able to and took her chance with the streets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei was a Camellia kid and, as such, took to the streets easier than most newcomers. She had picked up a few tricks from her aunties and her mom, and it helped her to survive out here.

The only (glaring) differences were the absence of her mother, the lack of a permanent roof above her head, and the fact that she had to provide food and money herself now.

(One of her favorite places to pick up wallets was Gotham Academy, where Gotham’s rich send their children. The kids always had money on them, and it’s not like they would miss it.

Though she couldn’t go too many times in a row, not without risking being spotted and remembered.)

She had been on the streets for two months when she met Jason Todd; the boy who would become her family.

She heard him before she saw him, to be honest. It was an awful crashing noise coming from around the corner, and it made her look.

He was running like the devil was after him, and judging by how the cops running behind him were clutching their batons, she wasn’t that far from the truth.

The noises were because of a couple of trash cans the boy had spilled in their way to slow them down.

And he was coming her way.

Against her better judgment, she grabbed his arm when he passed in front of her, and pulled him behind her into her hideout. Quickly getting the plank of wood back in place, she put her hand on his mouth before he could say anything. With the dumpster in the alley, the entry was almost invisible from outside.

They stayed there as they heard the men pass in front of their hiding place, listening as they argued about where the boy could have disappeared before their voices faded completely.

They waited another couple of minutes before he removed the hand she still had on his mouth and crawled out of there.

“Thanks,” he muttered with a scowl. “I woulda’ve been just fine without help but… yeah, anyway.” Then he had started to walk in the direction he came from.

“Hey! Wait!” She said before she could think about it. “Are ya just gonna, like, go? Just like that?”

“Huh, yeah? What do ya want me to do?” He asked, looking back at her from above his shoulder without stopping his walk. “Stay to drink a cup of tea and talk about the weather?”

“Well.. no. But I just… I just wanna talk a bit, ya know?” She couldn’t really explain why she didn’t want him to leave yet, it’s not like he was the first street kid she had helped out. He just felt different, and somehow she knew he could become important to her.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before turning his head back to look forward. “The streets are not some daycare for princesses who want to make friends, kid.”

“Kid— hey, dumbass, you’re, like, ten years old! You’re a kid too! And I’m not a princess, I can survive alone just fine!” Before she knew it, she was walking behind him, the weird feeling forgotten for the offence his comment created. He looked back at her with a frown, before choosing to ignore her. Not letting that deter her, she rambled at him about all the ways why she wasn’t a kid any more than him.

“I thought you could survive alone?” He said, talking over her, when he realized that she wasn’t going to let him be.

“I can.”

“So why are ya following me? Tryin’ to drive me crazy?”

“Well, no. It’s just... that I can do it doesn't mean I want to.”

“Look, kid,” he said, ignoring her protest and talking over her, again. “You should just go back to whatever orphanage you came from, there is probably some nice little family who's gonna pick you up. Then you could make all the friends you want.”

“Like people actually adopt kids in this city. This is Gotham, you dummy, not ‘Annie’. Some rich white guy isn’t going to come and pick up children from the streets to make them live the Grand life.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he growled out without pausing in his steps. “Still, you’re pretty enough, I’m sure some nice people would adopt you in a second if you let them.”

“Yeah, sure. Mom thought the same when she was a kid, and guess what? She started working on Camellia street when she was fourteen, but nobody asked her if she wanted to. Because she was pretty enough,” the little seven years old spat with venom, her eyes narrowed. The boy stopped walking, turning toward her with eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. “Her best friend wasn’t, but mom said that she had the prettiest green eyes ever. When they found her body, she didn’t have eyes anymore, because some rich person paid to have pretty green eyes.”

“I— I didn’t—” he stuttered, eyes wide. With his scowl gone he looked so much younger, and Mei’s anger subdued. He wasn’t that much older than her, just a couple of years, maybe three or four, after all.

“It’s… okay, I guess. It’s Gotham. I just thought we both would have more chances to survive if we helped each other out. And, ya know, the company wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, but when they resumed walking he slowed down enough to let her walk beside him without almost-running.

“Great! So, Annie, where are we going now?” She said with a beaming smile, bursting into laughter at his indignation and protest against the nickname.

(“Can’t you stop calling me Annie already?! I told you my name’s Jason!”

“Nope, Annie.”

“Well, then, that makes you Sandy, doesn't it? Ya do follow me around like a stray puppy.”

“I’m not a dog— wait, hold on a minute! I knew you saw the movie! You liar!”)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was ten when her life was put upside down once again, in the worst of ways.

It took practically no time before Jason “Annie” Todd became her brother in all but blood, it took longer for Jason to admit it, and they spend almost three years surviving together, barring the occasional trip back to the Children's Houses.

Though, they always found each other a couple of days after they escaped from those places.

Sometimes, Jason would plan something that he needed to do alone. Because of course, he did.

(“It’s the best job, my plan is perfect. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be great Sandy!”

“Yeah, and why can’t I come?”

“It’s too dangerous! Plus, you need to stay here and keep our things safe!”

“Yeah, if you say so, Annie.”)

That day was one of those days.

He was gone for less than an hour when they found her.

The Candy Dealers.

Mei paled when she saw them, wearing their nice suits and overly sweet smile. They told her they were social workers, specializing in homeless children, and offered her a lollipop. Social workers in Gotham don’t give candy to the kids, even the nice ones, and she knew from her time in Camellia street that the lollipop was drugged.

(“Never, ever, take candy from a Candy Dealer, Mei. Do you understand me? Never,” her mother told her gravely. “They put bad stuff in them, and if you put it in your mouth, they will take you away from me. I couldn’t live without you in my life, my little flower.”)

She tried to run, even before the first one got his hand totally outstretched toward her. But her panic made her stumble, and she was no match for them.

She tried to kick, and scream, and bite, but soon she felt a pinch in her neck, and everything was black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next period of her life was one she tried very hard to forget. For months she was moved, her and dozens of other people, from containers to containers, warehouse to warehouse. Twice they were put in a boat, the containers staying closed for so long, the next time she saw the moonlight, it burned her eyes.

She quickly learned that it was pointless to try to escape (and that Jason wouldn’t come and save her).

Then, one night, the place they were at was illuminated with blue and red lights and the police sirens were so loud, they drowned everything else.

She didn’t let herself hope, though. (She did, she hoped so hard her chest hurt.)

They (probably) weren’t in Gotham anymore, but her childhood didn’t instill her much trust in the police.

They did get them out. And she learned that they were in Paris now. In France. (That was a long way from Gotham.)

There were twenty-seven other people with her in the container. Four of which were kids, and only one other was also an orphan. They weren’t placed together, though. Because the kid had family back where he came from. Unlike her. (She had Jason. He was her family, but they didn’t listen.)

The French social workers took a while to know what to do with her exactly, but they didn’t want to send her back to Gotham (why not? She wanted to go back and find Jason!). So, in the meantime, they placed her in a foster family—one without any other kid, as per her therapist's advice. (The therapist didn’t know anything. She said Gotham wasn’t good for her, but Jason was in Gotham.)

Funnily enough, it ended up being a more permanent solution than previously considered, because the foster parents, Tom and Sabine, quickly fell in love with the little girl.

Not before long, Mei Leyton became Marinette Dupain-Cheng. (They changed her name to give her a ‘new beginning’ because her therapist thought it would be good for her. She didn’t want to have a ‘new beginning', she wanted to go back, to find Jason, to be the Sandy to his Annie. She was Mei, the Camellia’s kid, Sandy, the street’s kid and it was enough for her. She didn’t want to be Marinette, the bakers’ kid.)

So, when Mei was first put into the care of the Dupain-Cheng household, she regularly tried to run away. It was unsurprisingly harder than in Gotham, though. Tom and Sabine were way more attentive than Elliot Hall’s staff ever was, and more than a third of her tentatives were folded even before she was past the front door.

It took her three months (and forty-three unsuccessful tentatives) before she finally accepted that there would be no way for her to go back to Gotham. (Not that she had known how she would manage to do that before, her plan never got that far.) It took another six months before Tom and Sabine trusted her enough to let her wander the neighborhood alone.

The first thing she did the day her ‘new parents’ let her go to the library alone was to get to a public computer, and look Jason up. She didn’t really think she would find anything when she typed Jason Todd and Gotham in Google that day (maybe an obituary). She definitely didn't think she would find her best friend (brother) on the covers of so many tabloids declaring that he was Bruce Wayne’s ward.

She didn’t know how she should feel about the fact that he proved her wrong and became some real-life Annie. She wanted to feel angry, or hurt. Even more so when she realised that Wayne adopted him not even a full week after her (kidnapping) departure from Gotham, but…

But seeing Jason in the pictures… He looked so angry. Angrier than she ever saw him. And hurt. There was hurt hidden in his expression. It was well hidden but she could see it. (She did that, she was the one that hurted him. He probably thought she left him. That she wasn’t any better than his deadbeat of a father and abandoned him. What if he hates her now, because she was gone for so long?)

She needed to go back to Gotham, find him, and explain everything. She needed to tell him she didn’t want to leave him behind, that he was her family, and that it would never change. But Tom and Sabine didn’t want to take her back there, not before she was older, because she wasn’t ready yet, they said.

She didn’t care, though. No matter how long it would take her, she was going to go back. So, she slowly started to act like the perfect little girl. She didn’t really change, she just stopped bringing up Gotham so much, started to help more often in the house and at the bakery, and started to call Tom and Sabine Papa and Maman. (It wasn’t real, at first. But then, they just crawled into her heart against her will and became family. They didn’t replace her Mom or Jason, though. Nobody ever will.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She started to heal. Slowly, without even realising. She opened up to a couple of children at her school, made friends with Nino, and sort of Frenemies (more enemy than friend, though) with Chloé Bourgeois. She picked up hobbies like sewing and designing, baking with Tom, or learning various martial arts with Sabine.

But she didn’t forget, going back to Gotham was still her ultimate goal. Until the news reached her, when she was twelve.

Jason Todd was dead.

Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood, her Annie. Dead. Jason was dead.

She felt like a part of her died with him, reading the words but not really processing. She let herself drown in her grief, closing up to everyone around her. Surprisingly, Chloé was the one that made her react. Literally slapping her to make her come back from the dead. (Not entirely, though. Mei, the Gothamite part of her, stayed dead with Jason. Only Marinette, the nice little parisian, came back.)

“I don’t really know what’s up with you, Dupain-Cheng,” she had said while Marinette cradled her sore cheek, her faux-contempt badly hiding her worry. “But you need to put yourself together. Tormenting you is no fun if you don’t react to it, and people are too worried for you to be afraid of me. Don’t make me call daddy on you.”

“I…” She had started, only to stop herself. She had looked back at Nino and Kim, both of whom were looking at her with poorly concealed worry. “Yeah, sorry Chloé.”

She pulled herself out of the worst of it after that, at the obvious relief of the people around her. None of which even knew why she was in this state. She still cried herself to sleep most nights, and sometimes felt like someone gouged out her heart with their bare hands, but she also started to let herself think of the good times. Started to let herself feel the good things happening around her, in the present.

Then, she saved the life of an old man, found magic earrings and a bug-mouse-kwami in her room that told her that she needed to become a hero and save Paris.

She thought of her big brother, of how he would always protect her when someone tried to rob them. Hide her, before even thinking of himself, when the cops would chase them down, trying to bring them back to Elliot's Hall. Give her all the food when they couldn’t get enough for the both of them. How he was a hero. Her Hero. And, really, there was only one thing she could say to that.

“Tikki, spots on!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

So. That's it. That was fun. I'm going to sleep now, goodnight.

Btw, Jason's super plan that day was totaly to steal the Batmobile's tires.