#saw the dance practice of scent of you today and nearly choked on my breath

[euphor1a]

why do i always end up biasing the menaces WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF

[mrsmaybank]

My Little Sun - Reid x Reader

“Ridiculously perfect.” I held her tighter as she looked up at me and our eyes locked, “I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with you.” “So my evil plan worked then?” She chirped.

CONTENT WARNINGS: AGE GAP, VIOLENCE, KIDNAPPING, PREGNANCY, STALKING, LANGUAGE probably the misuse of a Russian word  IF THERES MORE LMK 

A/N: Okay, let me be honest rq this idea lowk scared me but the words really just fell out of my brain really easily so, yk fuck it whatever.  ANYWAY, if you like, please let me know! 

pt 2, pt 3 “I love you Spencer.” The words immediately melted me. 

“I know so many things.” She gave me an unapproving look. 

“I don’t mean to sound cocky, but I do! Now for once in your life, listen to me.” She nodded her head in concession.

“I’ve just read more, I’ve written more, I’ve discovered and studied more than the average person. I could tell you a little bit about anything with one hundred percent certainty. I could--and want--to tell you the names of all the stars, I could recite verbatim the entirety of Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus or Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, which you know, speaking of I will ‘cause I still can’t believe you haven’t read it,” Her smile flattened into a straight line, and I laughed. “Orrr, I could also tell you something simple, like why we get the hiccups.” I shook my head. 

“Regardless, I know so many things and I’m rarely taken by surprise because of it. Everything in life is a pattern of change, and as a human, we will always adjust and adapt to whatever situation we are in. For better or worse, we don’t feel the same thing for very long. This is why an addict takes a couple more every time, a sadist hits his second victim harder than the first, they’re searching for the high of the first time, and it will never come.”

She nodded in understanding, 

 “I know this is true, it’s factual, and yet every time I look at you it feels like the first. You’ve broken the laws of human psychology.” 

“First time you saw me was at a gas station Spencer.” 

“No. The first time I looked at you after I knew I loved you.” 

“Where were we?” 

“My car. You were dancing. You looked ridiculous.” 

“Ridiculously sexy? You mean?” She smiled. 

“Ridiculously perfect.” I held her tighter as she looked up at me and our eyes locked, “I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with you.” 

“So my evil plan worked then?” She chirped.

“It did indeed. You’ve become my solnyshko moyo.”

“Tell me that’s Russian dirty talk.” She said with a grin. 

“It’s better. It’s a term of endearment you’ve become the epitome of.” 

“And what’s that Dr. Reid?” she giggled. 

“My little sun. You’ve become my little sun. Following me around and bringing light and warmth.” She snuggled herself impossibly closer into my chest, wrapping one of her legs over mine. 

“Except for your feet!” I shrieked at her freezing toes meeting mine. 

“They’re not that cold you big baby!” she shouted. 

I laughed and kissed her sweetly, “I am not the baby here.” I said.  

“Please,” she started until I interrupted her with a kiss, “If you’re not the baby,” I kissed her again, “That implies I’M the baby,” Kiss, “And I’m not a” Kiss. 

“Shush baby.” I told her, but like always, she didn’t listen, instead sitting up to straddle me. My appreciation for her beauty was like how a prisoner appreciates freedom, and yet it was miniscule into what I found in her character. It blew my mind that a girl so perfect existed. 

“Rarely do great virtue and beauty dwell together. Francesco Petrarch.” I started, my hands making their way onto her hips, “That makes you a rarity.” 

“You’re spoiling me with nice words today Spencer.” “You’ve spoiled me. My frontal lobe is spoiled milk.” She laughed, wondering how I was going to manage to make this one romantic. 

“That’s the part of the brain responsible for sensibility and logical thinking, and you, little girl, have positively ruined it. You make me stupid.”

“I ruined the genius Dr. Reid with the 187 IQ? Makes sense. I’m like, way smarter.” 

“You are. So, so much smarter.” 

“I want that in writing.” she poked my chest. 

I pulled her down and kissed her forehead to whisper in her ear. “Not a chance.”

She pushed herself away and rolled her eyes at me like a bratty child does her nanny, and I continued, “ You’re smarter, but I’m more educated. I have more doctorates than you have years in university.” 

“Whatever…”

I brushed the hair away from her perfect face, “You tired baby?” 

She sighed and laid down, splaying herself on my chest, laying on me like I was the duvet. “Very.” 

I held her impossibly close, breathing in her scent and counting every time her heart thumped, her bpm said she was relaxed. Oh god, I wanted her like this forever. Relaxed in my arms, where nothing could touch us but each other. 

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“Must you work?” I sent the message to Spencer as I rolled over to his side of the bed in anticipation. I breathed in heavy, liking the way the pillow smelled like his laundry.

“Unfortunately.”  he responded. “Think you’ll be home this weekend?” 

“It’s not looking like it, little one. I’m sorry.” 

I didn’t reply. I was too sad to reply. I knew it’d make him feel guilty, which I didn’t want to do, cause like, his job and saving people and shit is important. But, it still wasn’t fair! At all. There was something very important I had to tell him. 

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Total darkness, and then way too much light. My head hurt and I couldn’t move. I was handcuffed to a wooden chair. There were chains around my torso and ankles. The room was a medical sort of bright. It smelled like bleach and rotting fruit. The walls were dilapidated, seeming to be made of tiles that were once white, but have turned yellow. 

What the FUCK? 

“Hello!” I shouted. My voice was so coarse it hurt. Shit. My head pulsed so badly it practically hurt to think, but I still racked my brain. 

Where am I? 

How’d I get here? 

Why am I here? 

I woke up again. Fuck, why can’t I think? Why can’t I do anything? 

“Hey, y/n.” A woman’s voice. A very stoic, cold, sounding female voice.

I’m not alone. Thank god, oh my god, I’m not alone. 

With the little strength I had, I lifted my head to see her. She wasn’t what I thought. She was alright, she wasn’t tied. She did this to me? 

She took a sip from her silver flask, “Do you know who I am?” 

I shook my head. “No.” 

“Typical.” She stood up and grabbed me by the hair, “You fucking disgust me.” Like, she said, she threw my hair away like it disgusted her. 

She sat back down on the bench in front of the chair I was chained to, “My name is Brook Austen. I was a professor at Georgetown last year. Taught a couple seminars at your school, that little university you go to, the students there were nothing like mine. Not nearly as intelligent, but as expected, Georgetown is much more prestigious, obviously.”

I was confused, and she knew, but did not care. 

“You’re not the brightest, y/n. Only slightly above average high school grades, strikingly mediocre academic performance now.”

Where the hell is she going with this? 

“And you know it doesn’t surprise me, per say, because every man on this goddamn planet is a piece of fucking shit! But I thought that, maybe, just maybe, Spencer was different.” 

She grimaced, “I thought he’d want more than just a pretty face! ‘Cause you might be prettier y/n, but I’m smarter.” Her words were laced with utter hatred. 

Her demeanor changed, and it almost started to seem like she was talking to herself. “I'm older. I’m more successful. I’m fucking better.” 

She approached me again, grabbing my face so I was looking her in those scarily light green eyes, and she wrapped her hands around my throat.  “I’m fucking better then you! Better, better, better!” Every time she said better she shook my neck and gripped tighter so I couldn’t breathe. 

“Stop! Please! Please stop!” I shouted, “I’m-I’m pregnant!” 

She began to break down, “You’re pregnant?” A maniacal chuckle left her throat, “You’re pregnant?”  

“Is it Spencer’s?” she asked. 

I nodded. 

“Wow.” She laughed once more, “Fucking wow.” 

“How could Spencer choose this!? You’re nothing like him. You are a pathetic fucking college student. A fucking daddy issue ridden slut! I’m a celebrated academic, just like him!” Tears began to slip from her eyes, “How could he not choose me?”

This woman is NOT well in the head. 

“You--you like Spencer?” I asked. 

“You don’t get to ask the fuckin’ questions here.” She pulled a knife out of her pocket and held it to the tip of my chin, “I do. So you’re gonna answer them.” Or, she started manically laughing, “I’ll kill you.” She swallowed, “And your baby.” 

I screamed at those words, “No,” I sobbed, “NO!” 

I turned my head away so I didn’t have to look at the woman in front of me, there was a timed red dot blinking. A camera. 

“Is that-- is that a camera?” 

She nodded, “I want Spencer to see you and his child die.” 

“He….No! No, please, No!” I choked on a sob and she smiled. 

“He doesn’t know.” She paced, “He doesn’t even fucking know!” 

She waltzed over to the camera and brought it closer to us, “Hey Spencer.” She began waving, “Hey Penelope. Aaron. Derek. Jennifer. Emily.” 

Her demeanor changed once more, into that of a cheerleader of all things, “So, quick recap.” Brook pursed her lips, “Spencer your twenty three year old fucktoy is pregnant. Congrats!” 

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Y/N was two things I didn’t know she was this morning: In serious danger, and the mother of my expected child. I felt frozen in trepidation. 

We all watched in horror as Brook greeted us. All by first name. She knew exactly what she was doing and it freaked me out even more. 

“Reid, you need to step out.” Hotch grabbed my shoulder, “Now.” 

I was sick with fear and ill with rage. I sat down because I could feel my knees go weak. Hotch started again, “We know who she is. We will find her. Y/N will be alright.” He paused, “So will the baby.” 

I replayed the events of the live footage in my head, her screams of pain and terror, her trembles and confusion. I’d failed her. I’d failed her and now I knew I’d also failed our child. 

JJ sat down next to me, “Spencer, when did you meet Brook?” 

“I uh,” I wiped my face, “A year and four months ago. I did uh, I taught uh, I taught a string of seminars at Georgetown. It was biweekly. Her office was next to mine. We spoke for the first time when she offered me a coffee.” 

“What did you say?” 

“What do you think I said?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah, I said yeah, I fucking like coffee.” I felt instantaneously guilty for cursing, and especially at JJ but I was too frazzled for it to last long enough to apologize. 

“I know Spence, I’m sorry. Just keep going.” 

“Then, the next week, we got lunch together.” 

“Was it, you know, friendly?” 

“What are you implying Jennifer?” I snapped. 

“No Spence, we just need to know. You know that.” 

“It was-- it was just lunch. A very normal colleague to colleague lunch. We talked about the school’s history. And uh, where we grew up. It was small talk.” 

“Ok, was this the last time you spoke to her?” 

“No. There was one more time. Y/N was there.” 

“Tell me about it Spence.” She grabbed my hand, 

I breathed out, “It was the next week I taught after lunch. About two hours before my class. I was lesson planning, and Y/N was doing homework on my desk. She came in. She asked if I wanted to go get lunch. She saw y/n and--Fuck.” 

“What Spence? What?” 

“She asked me who she was, but it was like, she didn’t want y/n to know she was asking. She thought she was…”

“She thought she was what?” 

“A student.” 

“And what did you tell her?”  

“The truth. That she was my girlfriend.” 

“Did you see her anywhere else after that?”

“No. She never came by my office again. When I would see her by chance, she would scurry away. It was strange.” 

“Think really hard Spence. Did you ever see her again after you stopped teaching at Georgetown.”

I racked my brain, “Yeah. I did. It was two months ago. Three days after I proposed to y/n. She was getting a coffee at this coffee shop by y/n’s school.. I was bringing her some lunch” 

“Spencer she's been stalking you. Your proposal was the stressor.” 

“But--I’m a profiler. I would’ve noticed.” I stood up with a realization.            “What Spence?” JJ asked, standing up as well to look at me. 

“She’s been stalking her, not me. She knew I was a part of the BAU, she knew I would’ve noticed.” 

“I’ll tell the team.” 

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A/N2:  If this doesn’t totally flop, I’ll write PT 2, that elaborates on the reader’s and Spencer’s relationship. I think through flashbacks from both Y/N and Spencer would be a cool way to explore their relationship and of course the whole reader being kidnapped thing plot could develop. Again, if you enjoyed this pls let me know!!

[dontshootmespence]

Happily Ever After

Summary: After meeting through the most unlucky of circumstances, you find yourself connecting with the alpha that helped save your life - the Prince.

Pairing: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Prince!Sam x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 4,605

Warnings: Heat, masturbation, outdoor claiming, marking, scenting, knotting, talk of pups, naughty words for genitalia,

A/N: This will fulfill my royal au square for @spnfluffbingo, my alpha/omega square for @spnabobingo​ and the quote ‘Nice to finally talk to you when I’m not...you know...choking on my own blood’ for @spnquotebingo​.

Beta’d by: @felix-the-white-wolf​ Thanks!

Throughout the Kingdom of Lamudor, every omega, beta and even alpha craved one thing - the attention of the kingdom’s sole heir, Samuel, or Sam as he preferred to be called according to everyone he’d ever spoken to. Though Y/N, an omega, desired the attention of the Prince as much as anyone else, she moved about her days with speed and precision. As the sole caretaker for her ailing father and two beta brothers, she had no time to swoon over the alpha; she had work to do and a family to feed.

The marketplace buzzed with excitement. The King didn’t enjoy letting his son into the marketplace, thought it too common, but the headstrong Prince had never been one to take no for an answer, so about once a month, he would make his way into the marketplace accompanied by a few guards - older, more seasoned alphas that could protect him if the need arose.

As Y/N flitted about, picking out the necessities to keep her household going for at least the next week or so, she chanced a peek at the alpha, her body going warm in his presence. His scent was intoxicating, hard like steel, soft like grass and rich like ale. Moving about, she allowed herself to dream - but not too much. At each stand, she exchanged pleasantries with the owner, paying what was expected for eggs and flour and milk and other such things. Her deft movements through the crowds were a practiced dance she did well - never wavering from the tried and tested path.

With one last glance, Y/N spun back around to return home. However, today, the kingdom was having caskets of wine delivered to the castle for the King’s name day. She tripped over her well-used apron and into the back end of one of the carts, which caused the gate holding the contents to swing open.

Before she could think, nearly a dozen large caskets rolled off the cart. Her purchases from the marketplace flew into the air and scattered about as she was pinned under the heavy weight of the King’s wine. She had no idea why people around her were screaming until she saw the Prince and his guard rushing toward to push the caskets off. “I can’t- breathe-” She said softly, gasping for air as her eyes well with tears. “I can’t- My family- Sick-” When she coughed, she saw blood, and welcomed the feel of Sam’s hands grasping hers as he called for the surgeon.

“Get her to a doctor! Now!” He screamed. He was helpless as the castle’s medical experts came to rush her away - a stream of red spilling from the corner of her mouth.

                                                         --------

Nearly a week passed before Y/N awoke to a string of people who faces she didn’t recognize. Her first thought was her father and brothers. “My family,” she said, her voice cracking from dryness. She tried to move, but it only sent a shooting pain up her side. “How long? How is my family?”

A shorter gentleman whose face you somewhat recognized, approached you quickly and rested his hands on yours. “Your family is okay. They are here. It’s been a half a fortnight.”

“Where is here?”

“The King’s castle. You will be healing here. Per the Prince’s not-so-subtle suggestion,” he said with a smile.

You were in the castle. As was your family. The Prince wanted you here? “May I see my family?” She asked. She already felt weak.

Shaking his head, the doctor ghosted his hands over your face. “Close your eyes. Rest more. When you wake next, I will make sure you see your family.”

Despite your desire to fight, to see them now and assure they were truly okay, your eyes did not cooperate.

                                                        --------

As he’d promised, the next time you opened your eyes, about a day later, your father and brothers were there. Your 6-year-old brother, Charles, hopped up and down with excitement; your mother had died shortly after he was born, so to him, you were his everything. Benjamin, at 16, just looked relieved, for your sake and his; he wouldn’t have to be the man of the house just yet.

Your father looked worn, but he was smiling. “Thank God, you’re okay, little one.” It was a nickname you’d had for as long as you could remember. He cradled the side of your face, his thumb grazing over your cheek. “You look so much like your mother. If I lost you too, I-”

“Don’t think about it, Father,” you said softly. “Have you spoken to the doctor? How long will I be here?”

“At least another two fortnights,” he said. “Closer to three. But you are being well taken care of. As are we.”

For the first time in ages, your family looked content, at ease. They didn’t have to worry. “Are you up to seeing another visitor or two?” Your doctor asked as he approached.

“Yes, I think so.”

“The boys and I will take our leave,” your father said. “The King has invited us to eat at his table every night. And I think the boys are hungry.”

They looked a little guilty that they wanted to eat, but you assured them you were fine. “Go get ready for supper,” you said. As they walked away, you breathed a sigh of relief, but the moment you glanced to the side and saw your first visitor, your muscles tensed.

“King John!”

“No, please, don’t move. You’ll pop your stitches. I just wanted to see that you were truly okay.” He sat at your side and grasped your hand in his. You’d never have imagined the King sitting at your side looking so guilt ridden. “It was my wine that fell on you. I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am.”

“It’s okay, your grace,” you said quickly. “It was an honest accident. You’re taking care of me and my family. I’ll be eternally grateful.”

“The pleasure is mine,” he said, his smile returning. “Are you up for one more visitor?”

Nodding, you watched as the King left and ushered in Sam. “My Prince. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Like my father, I needed to make sure you were okay.” From his place in the castle, he saw you frequently. There was an almost magical quality about you, he thought; your smile radiant and footsteps light as feathers. Seeing you now, in person, was more than he could handle. Despite your situation with a punctured lung and broken rib, you radiated a beauty and strength he hadn’t experienced except through portraits of his mother.

The second he’d approached you in the marketplace, he knew you were an omega, and now that he had the chance to take you in, he was intoxicated by the overwhelming scent of honey-flowers and the sea. Though in his late-20s, Sam had never taken an omega or a princess to his side; he’d never been affected by anyone before - and he wanted a love like his parents had enjoyed. “Y/N, would it be okay if I came to visit you while you heal? Get to know you?”

“You want to get to know me?” You asked, eyes wide.

Sam couldn’t believe she would be surprised by such a prospect. “I do. Would that be okay?” He asked. When you nodded, he chuckled his relief. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Nice to finally talk to you when I’m not,” you said, “you know...choking on my own blood.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at your frankness, smiling wide when you joined in his laughter.

                                                         --------

Over the next month, Sam, as he insisted you call him, came to sit at your bedside at least once a day. Sometimes, he would just sit by your side as you slept, rubbing your hand with his calloused thumb. Other times, he would assist the doctors in helping you stand to make sure your muscles wouldn’t atrophy while you healed.

Through it all, you got to know each other. At first, Sam told you about himself; things you wouldn’t have known just because of his status. The times he spent with his mother, how she trained in the ways of sword fighting. “That was your mother? Not the King?” You asked.

“No, not the King. Believe it or not, he hates to fight unless it’s absolutely necessary. It was my mother who was the fiery one. She always had some fight in her.”

“I can just imagine little Sam fighting alongside his mother.” Your wounds had almost healed, but it was taking so long. You wanted to walk with him, hand-in-hand, as he gave you tours of his home. For a moment, you pictured the little prince with his mother. “My mother was never a fighter. She was an omega through and through. Found my father and bore his pups. She died giving birth to Charles. I miss her.”

Sam furrowed his brow. If only there was a way to turn back time. “I wish I could’ve met her,” he said softly. “Do you see yourself as the typical omega?”

You hesitated. “I’ve never really thought about it. I wasn’t when I was younger, but then my mother passed away and I had to be the caregiver because my father was sick and my brothers were too little. So maybe by circumstance, not by design.” The thought of bearing Sam’s pups crossed your mind. “That’s not to say I don’t want pups of my own. I just want to be more than that. Maybe a fighter, like your mother.”

“May I?” He asked, extending his arms. Though you didn’t know what he wanted, you trusted him. For the first time since you’d been injured, he gathered you in his arms and placed you in his lap. “Would it be too forward of me to say that I’ve imagined you as my omega?”

Your heartbeat pumped loudly in your ears and you blushed. “Would it be too forward of me to say that I’ve imagined the Prince as my alpha?”

Without a word, Sam lifted his hand to your chin and tipped your mouth to his. Washed in the soft, fresh scent of green grass, he slipped his tongue into your mouth and breathed you in. It was a beautiful dream - a fulfilling one - but you couldn’t leave your family. Once you were fully healed, you would all have to return home. Father couldn’t care for the boys and the boys were still so young. For now however, you would sink into his embrace and dream and a life where you didn’t come from two separate worlds.

                                                        --------

After the week passed, the castle doctor declared you healthy. It was a bittersweet moment. Your time with Sam was over, but you could move and bend and breath like you had before.

Due to the King’s courtesy, your family was given a week’s worth of food and necessities to help settle you in back home. Before you left, you made sure to see him, curtsying in his presence to thank him profusely for the kindness he’d shown you and your family. “You’re a tough one,” he said, almost fondly. “Not many could recover from such an injury.” Sam beamed at his side.

As you began to leave, Sam ran up to your side. “We can still see each other?” He asked hopefully.

You nodded quickly and gave him a soft smile before turning to leave. Even if your lives were too different to allow a romance, you wanted to remain his friend, no matter how difficult that might be.

Settling back into home life was easier than you had imagined, and while your family had enjoyed their time in the castle, they were glad to be surrounded by the comforts of home. Returning to your weekly trip to the marketplace felt like coming home; it was familiar, comforting, to take care of your family...and it allowed you to return to the castle area - to be closer to Sam.

Upon preparing your family for your incoming heat, which would all but incapacitate you, you returned home and found yourself flushed with warmth. After the injury you’d suffered, you hoped your heat would come later, but there was no such luck. You felt sick to your stomach, your muscles ached, and your sex quivered for the strong touch of an alpha, but not just any. Now you thought of Sam when you slipped your hand between your legs. Careful to keep your voice down so as to not wake your brothers, you whimpered Sam’s name into your down pillow, feeling only the slightest sense of relief as you drifted off to sleep.

                                                       --------

The following morning, you dressed yourself in your loosest dress, the feeling of the material unbearable to your overwrought skin, and ensured your father and brothers were set before heading into the woods. During your heats, you always felt better outdoors, so you made it a point to have some time alone. It was a cloudy day, perfect weather for a stroll.

As you basked in the cool air, you focused on the flowers, the trees, the beauty around you. It was the only “medicine” you could afford to help you through your heats. Others who lived closer to the market could buy medications, but they were so expensive, and you couldn’t bear to spend the money on that when you could swallow the pain and use it on food for your family.

Ten minutes later, you happened upon your favorite tree and leaned against its trunk. Inhaling, you sighed happily at the scent of nearby jasmine. But then your muscles tensed, a familiar steel blanketing you. “Sam?”

When you poked your head out from behind the tree, you saw him, all hard angles and soft smiles. He was out on his horse, alone. “Sam, what are you doing here?”

He dipped to kiss your forehead, his embrace so inviting. “Once in a while, I try to take some time alone. To have time to think.”

He pulled away, and you could see his cock pressing against his pants. This was dangerous; being in the presence of your heat could trigger his rut, and then all control would be lost. “I do, too. I’ve never seen you out this way before,” you said softly. “Did you- did you follow me here?”

“Not exactly,” he said, eyes lust blown. “I found your scent and I followed it. Hoping I might run into you.”

“We can’t.” Your lip trembled at thought of pulling away from him. “Sam, we can’t be near each other right now. I’m in heat. And I can’t be your omega.”

Sam shook his head, taken aback. “What do you mean? I thought you said you imagined it.”

“I have,” you admitted, wiping a droplet of water off your cheek. It was starting to rain. “So much. But to be your omega would mean leaving my family. My father cannot care for himself, no less my brothers. I cannot leave them.”

A smirk passed his lips as he stepped toward you, his scent filling your nostrils and sending your nerves into overdrive. “You would not have to leave them.”

“What?”

“If you want me to be your alpha, if you want to be my omega, then your family can live in the castle, as they have been. You would see them every day. I would have castle attendants care for them. I wouldn’t make you choose between me and them.”

As the rain pounded through the canopy of trees, you arched into him, wanting so badly to give in - to do something for yourself for the first time in your life. “Why me?” You asked genuinely, gasping softly when his lips ghosted over yours. “I’m no princess.”

“I don’t want a princess. I want you. As my Omega, and my future Queen.” You stared at him in awe, still somewhat disbelieving of your current reality. “For years, my father tried to marry me off to princesses, some omegas, some betas, purely so that I would have a Queen, but I refused, until I found someone that made me as happy as my mother made my father.”

Cold rain mixed with heated tears. “Alpha,” you breathed.

That one spoken word was all he needed to hear. He slipped his hand up the side of your neck and cradled your face in his hands as he kissed you hungrily, a low growl emanating from his throat. “’Mega. Say yes. Say that you want this life, with me.”

The words wouldn’t come, so you leaned into him and bit his lower lip, groaning into his mouth. “Alpha, I need you.”

Sam lifted you against the trunk of the tree, its bark digging into your back. Though the rain was coating you both, he held on tight and lifted your skirt above your cunt, grazing his fingers over your fiery skin. You bucked into his hand, running your hands over the dampened material of his clothing, eager to release his cock from its confines.

As his finger slipped between slick folds, he used his other hand to push his pants down just below his buttocks. “Going to knot you. Claim you. Mark you. Mine.”

Unbuttoning his shirt, you splayed your hands over the wide expanse of his chest and nipped at him, his skin practically vibrating with need under your touch. “Mark you too,” you mumbled against him. Your hands slipped into his hair, wet with rain, and tugged.

When he growled, you felt it go straight to your cunt. He placed himself at your entrance, teasing you slick cunt with the head of his cock. You wanted to take him in, see him in all his glory, but there was no time and neither of you had the patience to wait any longer. “Please, Alpha.”

He grasped your ass as he eased in by degrees, giving you time to adjust to the size of him. “Fuck, ‘Mega, such a tight little cunt. Gonna knot you.”

Pulling back, he pounded back into you, causing your back to scrape against the tree. You cried at the pain, the overwhelming feel of it all, but you welcomed it and clawed at his back.

As he thrusted into you, you clenched your walls around him. Each tightening around him drove him harder and faster. His knot began to swell, and he mumbled into your shoulder, moving your sleeve so he could mark you, claim you, when the time was right.

“Fuck me full,” you whined. “Please. I need you, Alpha.”

Whimpering into you, he bit at your pulse point and picked up the pace until his knot locked to you. When he spilled himself inside you, you cried out, biting down into his shoulder as he did yours. The pain of your claiming made him jerk into you. “Mine, ‘Mega,” he breathed.

The rain continued to fall overhead as he softened inside you, his knot unlocking. “Sam,” you said softly into the crook of his neck. “What do we do now?”

“I tell my father I’ve found my future Queen.” He kissed the claim mark on your shoulder and pulled your sleeve back up over it. “You tell your family that you’re going to marry the Prince. And we live happily ever after.”

When he pulled out of you, you felt bereft, wanting nothing more than to stay here, against this tree, for the rest of time. “It’s that simple?”

“It’s that simple,” he stated. He dressed himself and helped you do the same, so you would at least look semi-appropriate in front of your family after your simple “walk” in the forest. “Go home. Tell them. Tell them none of you will ever have to worry again. And then come home to me.”

                                                      --------

After returning home, you father took in your smile; he knew. “Are you okay?” Charles asked.

“Yes, little one,” you replied with a smile. “I’ve come home to tell you all something. We’ll be returning to the castle soon.”

“Really?” Benjamin asked, delighted by the prospect. He’d eaten better in those six weeks at the castle than he had his entire life.

You glanced back at your father to see him smiling. “She’s fallen in love with the Prince, am I right?”

“Yes, father. And he with me. He wishes to be married. I told him I would, but that I couldn’t leave you here to fend for yourselves. He could only have me if he accepted you three.”

Benjamin came over to hug you, taking in the hint of a claim mark sitting underneath your sleeve. He smirked, but he spoke genuinely. “I am glad you found a man that loves you. For all you do, you deserve it.”

“Thank you, Benji.”

                                                     --------

In the ensuing fortnight, the King had pulled together a spectacular wedding celebration, overjoyed that his seemingly picky son had finally found his Queen. Other royalty from nearby kingdoms looked down upon the common woman becoming a princess, no less the future Queen, but Sam nor his father cared. And the people welcomed her with open arms. One of their own would serve them far better than a foreign princess.

Even with the kingdom’s resources now at your disposal, you picked a modest wedding dress, white as snow and sprinkled with sewn honey-flowers, per Sam’s request. Covering your shoulders sat delicate lace. As you stood before your Alpha, declaring your love to the surrounding kingdoms as well as your own, you saw the love reflected in his eyes.

King John stood at his son’s side proudly, welcoming his daughter-in-law into the royal family. “You will make a wonderful Queen someday. I’m happy my son finally found you,” he said, turning around to tease him as the ceremony came to a close.

Walking through the applauding crowd, you leaned into your new husband, your Alpha and future King. “Will your father step down?” You asked as Sam led you toward the Great Hall where you would have your reception. Per your request, your entire village had been invited. “He should be able to retire and enjoy the kingdom he’s helped to rule for so long.”

“I agree,” Sam replied. You entered the Great Hall and marveled at the splendor before you, flowers bedecking every inch. When he pulled you into the middle of the floor and gathered his arm around you, you readied yourself for your first dance in front of the kingdom. “And he will. As soon as I have an heir, I’m sure.” He winked.

Blushing, you kissed him and whispered into his ear. “Well, I guess we’ll have to wait until after the reception. We wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would we?”

                                                    --------

Of course you wanted to celebrate marrying the man you loved, but as Sam’s insistent hands roamed your body over the soft fabric of your dress, you couldn’t help but want to leave and get to more important matters - not just for yourself, but for the King - naturally.

After thanking each and every guest for their attendance and bidding your family good evening, you walked hand-in-hand with your Alpha toward the bedroom you would share from now on. When you entered, you felt at home, with dark wood and deep reds washing over you. His closet had been expanded in the previous days and filled with outfits of all sorts in colors you’d never had the privilege to wear before.

In the center of the room pushed up against one of the castle’s outer walls stood an imposing, wooden, four-poster bed. “I had the servants add the sheets,” he said, “Figured it would be a nice touch for you.”

“It is,” you giggled, pulling him toward you. “Although the bed really is of no matter to me, not as much as the one in it.”

Sam mumbled appreciatively against your skin, licking and sucking at your pulse point. Unlike when he’d claimed you, tonight would be nowhere near as frenzied. “Going to take my time tonight, ‘Mega. Show you just how much you deserve to be worshipped.”

As he began to untie your dress, he rolled his tongue over yours, promising between open-mouthed kisses and love bites that he would fuck you full of pups tonight. “Need your knot, Alpha.”

“In time,” he said cockily. You felt your body flush with heat under his practiced touch. He let your dress drop and pool at your feet, taking in your beautiful blush. “Right now, I need this.”

Dropping to his knees before you, he licked a stripe up your slit. You shivered and swayed on your feet, but he held you steady with strong hands on either side of you. As he flicked his tongue over your clit, you trembled in his embrace and begged for more. You wanted his fingers, his cock, his knot. Anything and everything.

Flattening his tongue against your cunt, he moaned at the heady taste and nipped at your folds. It was overwhelming to have your Alpha, the prince, worshipping at your feet. He was still clothed; it was too much.

“Please, I need to see you,” you rasped, clawing at the wedding attire he wore. You slipped your fingers under the material and pushed it down from his shoulders, grazing your hand over the mark you’d left on him weeks earlier. He stood up, his eyes practically black with lust, and began to tear at his clothing.

Before long, he was completely bare, his cock hanging thick between his legs as he picked you up and placed you on the bed. He crawled up between the two posters at the bottom of the bed and grabbed your legs, spreading you open for the next assault of his tongue. This time his kisses weren’t experimental in the slightest. He devoured your cunt like it was his last meal and he was starved.

Each pass of his fingers and swipe of his tongue had you writhing underneath him. He brought you to the brink so quickly it was if he’d been mapping and studying your body his entire life. When you came, you shook against his mouth, crying out his name like it was the only word you’d ever known. “Fuck, Alpha. I want you. Please. Need your knot.”

Climbing up your body, he spread your legs with his own, his thick thighs holding you in place. You reached between you and grabbed his cock, rubbing your thumb over the head and knot as your other hand slipped over his taut, sweat-slick muscles.

He held himself above you and placed his cock at your entrance, sliding home with ease. “So beautiful, ‘Mega.”

You whimpered at his continued effusive praise and began to claw at his back, scraping your fingernails down the wide expanse of his back. When you grabbed the firm flesh of his ass, you pulled him toward you, begging him silently to fuck you harder, fuck you full of his come. “Such a needy little, ‘Mega.”

“Need you.” As your pleas turned to strangled cries and pitiful whimpers, you felt him lose control, rutting against you as he licked and kissed at the mark he’d given you. “Yours, Alpha.”

That was all he needed to let go, spilling himself inside you with a few quick pumps of his cock. “Fuck, ‘Mega. Love you. So much.”

“I love you, too, Alpha.”

Removing himself from you, he kissed your stomach. “Can’t wait to see you round with my pups.”

“And then we live happily ever after?”

“And then we live happily ever after.”

[wrandom-writings]

A/B/O Dynamics Stobotnick Fic

!!NSFW!!

He should have known. Well, there really was no way he would have known. The doctor was a genius, and hiding his second gender must have been child’s play for him. Now that he thought about it, the doctor didn’t seem to have a scent about him 90% of the time. The other ten was when he was dancing or solved something no one else had. It was barely there, a whiff of peaches and cream. Usually it was hidden my metal and oil, the smell of hard work. And the way he carried himself just screamed Alpha. He never realized the doctor could be an omega.

The sweet scent of omega in heat shook up his brain. At first he suspected one of the agents had accidentally gone into heat, or Robotnik was performing a particularly weird experiment. Soon he discovered he was the only agent there, which wasn’t unusual. Stone was the only one he tolerated. And if you’re asking, yes, he did see the email from the doctor telling no one to come in today, or they would be obliterated. And of course he didn’t listen. Robotnik never took sick days, so something was wrong. He walked through the trailer lab. He was trained to not be as effected by omegas, but he couldn’t help but follow the scent like a puppet on a string. It was intoxicating, something he would love to drown in. His own alpha instincts were spiking, perhaps seeing Robotnik right now wouldn’t be a good idea with how on edge his alpha was. He couldn’t imagine the doctor feeling like that too, or going into rut, or letting Stone bend him over the counter and- He ran face first into the door of Robotnik’s lab. Stone winced, rubbing his face. Okay, maybe he had gone a bit to far. He took a deep breath to collect himself and nearly choked. It hung heavy in the air, large amounts of it coming from the lab. His eye twitched, jealousy burning him up inside. Why would the Doctor have some random omega in his lab? Why not him? He could please him much better.

He didn’t even notice he was growling until a crash and yelp sounded from inside. He tensed, that sounded like his doctor-the doctor. Did the omega hurt him? He knew that was practically impossible, Dr. Robotnik was more than capable of taking care of himself. The jealousy bit him again. He knew alpha x alpha relationships were not considered the norm, especially gay ones, but he couldn’t help it. He felt a certain pull towards the doctor as soon as he saw him. No only that, but he was pretty sure Robotnik was warming up to him.

His soft coffee and leather scent filled the air at the thought, a dopy smile on his face. A soft whine came from the lab. That was odd. It was definitely Robotnik’s voice, but he would never whine. Well, he would only do it in his fantasies, but that wasn’t the point. His dick twitched, reacting the the strong scent. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“Doctor? Are you alright? I heard a crash.” He chose not to mention the obvious thing hanging in the air.

It was quiet for a moment before Robotnik spoke. His voice was raspy and somewhat needy, “Stone? What are you doing here?” He didn’t sound angry, surprisingly.

The agent’s scent spiked, that omega in there must be having the time of their life. It softened as soon as he heard a groan of ‘pain’ from the doctor. “I was worried. You never take sick days. May I come in? You sound like you’re hurting-“

“No! Don’t- do not come in....please.”

His eyes widened, please? Something was definitely wrong. “Doctor, I’m coming in.”

“No! There’s- I- I’m-“

“I’m already aware of the omega in there. Don’t worry, I have had proper training and will not react how most Alphas would.”

A loud keen answered him back. His hand twitched as he scanned his thumb. The door hissed while it opened, providing Stone with the mouthwatering scent like a punch to the face. He went in, the door closing behind him. The agent took in his surroundings, looking for the omega hurting his doctor. He froze when he found none, “Doctor, Where?-“ Robotnik twitched, catching his eye. He did a quick assessment of his appearance. He was sweating and red faced, probably devoid and hot. His legs trembled, perhaps he wasn’t feeling well. He was facing away from Stone, so the agent probably did something wrong. He absentmindedly licked his lips, gazing at how Robotnik’s back curved as if presenting himself. His eyes widened and he held back a groan as he saw the wet patch on the back of his pants. “Doctor...you’re...leaking?”

He panted, “Stone.... for my assistant, you are surprisingly dull.”

Stone inhaled and let out a breathy moan at the sharp scent of arousal and slick. “Omega-“

“D-don’t- Stone. Don’t say that. I despise my second gender.” He gripped the table so hard his knuckles turned white. He whined as a harsh cramp hit him. Robotnik quickly covered his mouth.

“I thought you were an alpha..”

“Suppressants aren’t hard to find. And I easily made them so I could appear however I pleased.” He was so focused on keeping himself upright that he didn’t notice the agent until careful fingers massaged into his lower back. He would usually be pissed, but he couldn’t help but melt in his touch. It was boiling hot in his clothes. He wanted nothing more than to strip, bathe in some ice, make a nest, grab Agent Stone and pin him to the bed- He turned dark red as more slick came out of him. He was also scared. Agent Stone wouldn’t hurt him, but he hated how he kinda wanted him too.

“They stopped working, why?” His voice was like honey. Ivo choked down a purr, wanting nothing more then to nuzzle and cuddle him, hearing more of that beautiful voice. He wanted more of the Alpha’s thick scent, surrounding him like a blanket. There was something hiding in there with a burn, it was intoxicating.

He gritted his teeth, “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” His scent spiked in anger but it was quickly quelled as Stone rested his head on his shoulder.

“How long have you been on them?” Ivo hummed, barely acknowledging the question. “Doctor-“

“Ivo.”

Stone blushed, “Ivo...how long have you been on them.”

The man in question stiffened, looking away. Embarrassment was an odd look on the doctor.

“Since I was....6?”

Stone froze, “Oh fuck.”

(Do you guys want a part 2? Let me know! Also, sorry about the spelling mistakes)

[emberbent]

Book 1: Fire | Chapter 4: Family Reunion

As he did with all his students, Amrit saw Shinza as a hunk of raw marble, and as he chiseled away, he started to unearth the statue within. Her method of bending was methodical and controlled; she combined strict textbook technique with inventive application, often surprising Amrit. But as beautiful and clean as her lines were, and as sufficient as her self-defense abilities were, she still lacked the core essence of what it meant to be a firebender. After a while, her progress came to a plateau.

He kept her training at a dogged pace, and she was up to the challenge. He had to give her that much: she was persistent. But after seeming to hit a wall, they both needed a break. 

“You’re doing great,” Amrit encouraged, catching his breath at the end of the day’s session. They were both panting and covered with sweat. The smell of charred air surrounded them.

Shinza gulped down a cup of water. “But?”

Amrit sighed, taking his time with his own cup of water before finally getting down to it. “I worry. You’re doing well here, but I’m not confident that your bending won’t weaken once you leave. This heat, and being on the equator… it’s helping you, but it can also be a crutch.”

Gracefully, she bent and settled on the ground. “So how do I get stronger?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Amrit replied, sitting across from her and looking her in the eye. “It’s been a struggle for you - I know it has. But your progress has plateaued because you still haven’t pinpointed your motivation. You need to be able to overpower your opponent with sheer force. Firebending by nature is an offensive art, and frankly, I don’t think you don’t have the resolve for it.”

He watched her. Being straightforward was something Shinza valued, but delivering such a blow to her ego wasn’t easy. Not with so much at stake, and with all of the pressure falling squarely on her shoulders.

“I know,” she replied quietly. Streaks of black soot marked her face, obscuring her freckles. Several strands of hair had come loose from her topknot and framed her face. She’d given this everything she had. “I’ve been trying. I really have.”

“I know you have,” Amrit assured her. “But I think you need a break. We’ve been training in the temple this whole time, but you’re not getting what you need here. Maybe you should do some wandering.”

“I thought it wasn’t safe for me to travel alone,” Shinza countered, thinking of Mai and Zhang and their incessant need to be glued to her side.

Amrit considered that. “I think it’ll be worth it. Besides, as far as I know, no one knows it’s you who’s the Avatar, and you’re skilled enough now that you could hold your own in a struggle.”

They were quiet for a while. Ever since the incident at the General’s Tea House, no one would let Shinza out of their sight - even Amrit, who was now realizing the value of showing his faith in her. The idea of being treated like the adult she was, to her, seemed wonderful. Then she said, “I think I know where I’m going to go.” 

Shinza boarded a ferry to Fire Fountain City the next morning. She had dressed in mainland Fire Nation clothes, which was something she’d never done before, but for the first time in her life, she looked and felt proud. Maybe she wasn’t up to Amrit’s standards yet, but she’d come so far in the months she’d been on the island. What made a knot in her stomach, though, was the worry that this trip would be a waste. What if she didn’t find what she needed here? What if she disappointed Amrit? Or worse: what if she disappointed herself?

She stepped off the ramp and headed toward the address she’d seen on envelopes her whole life: her aunt and uncle’s apartment. She’d never met them before, but from all the pictures they sent and from the stories her father had read aloud from their letters, she felt like she did. Shinza wasn’t sure how they’d take to a surprise visit, but she’d had no way of letting them know she was coming. As she passed through the town square, she came upon what gave the city its name: the fire fountain. After Fire Lord Ozai’s flame-mouthed statue had been hauled to the ground and removed, the citizens of the town, under Fire Lord Zuko’s orders, had replaced the statue with the fountain. It was meant to symbolize the Fire Nation’s turning away from its past, and it was a beautiful sight when lit at twilight. But now it was broad daylight, and it seemed so much smaller than she pictures she’d seen of it with crowds gathered around it and with its floating lanterns glowing. It was hard not to be disappointed, but she kept going until she reached the address. 

Shinza ascended the stoop and used the iron knocker to rap a couple times on the door, using the interim time to make sure not a hair was out of place. A couple seconds later, the door swung open, and a familiar face greeted her.

“Ohh!” her aunt Chiyo squealed, already holding her arms out. “Is that Little Shinza I see?”

“Hi, Aunt Chiyo,” Shinza responded, smiling through the vague discomfort of being ensnared in a monstrous hug and pulled into the apartment. The woman was much shorter than Shinza, and quite round, with a kind face and twinkling yellow eyes. She reached upward to cup Shinza’s cheeks and beamed into her niece’s face.

“Oh, what a joy!” she exclaimed. “I never thought we’d get the chance to meet you. What brings you to Fire Fountain City? Are your parents here? Oh, come in, come in! Please, make yourself comfortable. Everyone! Guess who’s here?”

Shinza found that the little apartment was full of people, all of whom she recognized, and all who had come to the living room to see her. Her uncle Akio, her cousin Kenzo, his wife Nhu, and their children, Lili and Khazan. All of them fussed over her, commenting on her physical similarity to her father, Chiyo’s brother. 

“You’re just in time for dinner,” Chiyo sounded. “Are you hungry? I made a nice roast duck for the family. Oh, how lucky you came by today, when everyone’s here!”

“Sounds wonderful,” Shinza said; Lili and Khazan, who seemed boundlessly fascinated by their cousin, pulled her into the kitchen and offered her a place to sit. Gradually, she acclimated and started to feel comfortable. “It’s so nice to see all of you. I’ve seen pictures, but it’s not the same.”

“So what brings you to town?” Akio inquired, pulling out a chair for himself. “Taking a little vacation?”

“Something like that,” Shinza replied. “I’ve been working hard, and I needed a little getaway. And I thought, you know, maybe it’d be nice to meet you all.”

“Well, it’s just wonderful to meet you,” Akio beamed. “Tell us, how are your parents? What do you do for work? What’s it like in Republic City?”

Everyone around her leaned in, eager to hear. Shinza couldn’t help but laugh. All the attention was strange, but the magnitude of love she felt in the room was something she’d never forget. “Mom and Dad are fine,” she said. “Mom’s still practicing medicine, and Dad’s been enjoying his retirement as much as he can, for how badly his leg hurts him. I, uh… I’m an artist, technically, but I do some side work as a musician. Sometimes I dance, too, and sometimes I give lessons. Republic City’s nice like that - there’s always a job to take.”

“Oh, that’s just wonderful,” gushed Chiyo. To Shinza’s relief, no one gave her a hard time for not having followed in her parents’ footsteps. Chiyo chirped, “Bird’s on! Everyone come eat. Shinza, honey, you serve yourself first.”

With full plates, they all tucked in. The kitchen was filled with lively chatter, the heavenly scent of a meal made with love, and laughter. Topics of conversation wove and changed; Shinza had managed to tune out, finding the cacophony of everyone talking to each other and over each other simultaneously a little overwhelming; so had Nhu, was sitting beside her. The woman, who appeared to be a little older than Shinza, gave her an amicable smile as they continued their meal.

“So, did you hear?” Kenzo piped up. “The new Avatar’s been located.”

“Oh? No, I hadn’t heard that,” Chiyo replied airily. “Well, I hope The Organization manages to find them and do away with them for good. I shudder to think...”

Nhu groaned. “Kenzo, what have I asked you about politics at the table?”

“Oh, honey, come on. It’s friendly conversation.”

Shinza said nothing, coolly picking out the mushrooms from her bowl and eating them first. 

“It’s not friendly, it’s incendiary,” Nhu muttered. 

Kenzo countered, “I’m tired of this. We all know the Avatar needs to be done away with. We can’t have that kind of abuse of power in our world.”

“Daddy,” Lili interjected, tugging at her father’s sleeve. “Is it true the Avatar murders babies so they can go into the Avatar state?”

Chiyo nearly choked on her roast duck.

Khazan said to his sister, “A boy in my class says his dad is in The Org, and that they’re gonna find the Avatar and murder them in the Avatar state so they’re never reincarnated.”

“Okay,” Akio boomed. “That’s enough. Nhu, sweetheart, you can’t censor people. Kenzo, don’t provoke her. Now -- Chiyo, what did you say about those sweet dumplings?”

“They’re in the fridge, dear,” Chiyo responded, happy not to engage in such a grim facet of the conversation.

“What do you think about all that, Shinza?” Kenzo said after a moment, with his father’s back turned to them in the kitchen as he searched for dessert. “What’s your stance on the Avatar?”

Shinza delicately slurped the last of her noodles, pretending to think on it. “Hadn’t really considered it,” she said casually. “There’s no such talk in Republic City. Everyone basically pretends the Avatar doesn’t exist.”

“I’ve heard different,” Chiyo piped up. “Akio’s second cousin lives in Republic City, and he says The Org has growing numbers. They’re coordinating a search effort.”

“Well,” Shinza shrugged. “I guess, whoever the Avatar is, they should prepare for the fight of their life.”

“Well said,” bellowed Akio, coming back to the table with a tray of sweet dumplings. Dessert was a much quieter affair. The children went to go play in the living room, Kenzo and Akio went to go smoke on the balcony, and Chiyo, Nhu, and Shinza cleaned the kitchen and enjoyed some quiet conversation. After the last dish was dry, Chiyo looked apologetically at Shinza. “I hope we didn’t scare you off,” she said sheepishly. “Things can get pretty lively here.”

“No bother,” lied Shinza. “It was really an honor to meet you all. I hope this won’t be the only time we get to see each other.”

Through the balcony screen, Shinza garnered little scraps of Akio’s conversation with his son. He admonished Kenzo for allowing his little boy to entertain the idea that the Avatar was a child murderer, and Kenzo argued that he’d heard rumors of it himself. Besides - after Unavaatu, what wasn’t the Avatar capable of?

“I should get going,” Shinza announced. “Aunt Chiyo, thank you so much for dinner. I’ll tell Mom and Dad you said hello.”

“Okay, sweet girl,” once more pulling in Shinza for a captive hug. “Go tell your uncle and cousins bye.”

Shinza had parted with all of her family except Nhu, who offered to walk her to the bus stop. Just being out of the cramped apartment was such a relief that the shrieking locusts of late summer didn’t bother her. Nhu was quiet and tall, like Shinza was, with dark brown hair and striking hazel eyes. Her parents had immigrated to the Fire Nation from the Foggy Swamp when she was tiny, she told Shinza. She didn’t have the luxury of visiting her relatives like Shinza did; when Nhu’s parents left their family’s neck of the swamp, they’d been so deeply disappointed that they decided they wouldn’t be welcomed back.

“That’s awful,” Shinza replied. She couldn’t imagine being cut off from her parents that way.

Nhu shrugged. “What do I care? I have my parents and Kenzo’s family, loud as they can be. And a new cousin I can talk to.”

Shinza gave a genuine smile. The two passed the fire fountain, which was being lit by two keepers, shooting little synchronized spears of fire into the lantern wicks. Emberflies wove their way in and out of the lanterns, scarcely discernible from the light of the lanterns. “I was hoping I’d get to see this before I left,” she murmured.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Nhu replied. “Almost makes you forget about all the ugliness in the world.”

“Almost,” Shinza snorted. They watched the fountain for a while and then made their way to the bus stop. Just as they approached, the Satobus that would take her back to the ferry pulled up, hissing and coughing black smoke into the street. “This is me.”

Nhu took one last look at Shinza, her intense hazel gaze finding Shinza’s warm red-brown eyes and instilling a knowing look. “Be careful,” she whispered. 

Shinza boarded the bus, taking a window seat and staring after Nhu as she hurried back down the street, eyes ever vigilant.

[potentiallymrsdevorak]

In Fields of Flowers (The Arcana)

Chapter Five: Tea Roses (I’ll Remember, Always)

Pairing: Julian x Nijah

Summary: Nijah has contracted the plague. How will she spend her last days? Will Julian find a cure in time?

Word Count: 4700~

Author’s Note: Long overdue but this is the final chapter in the series! I’ve really enjoyed writing it but will probably not do another series for a long time! They are a lot of work (if you know me from the last fandom I was in you would know lol). I really hope you guys enjoyed and I will still continue writing!!!

Tagging: @drunkenomnist, @rromanovv, @juliandevoraknsfw

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

The first day was not as bad as she anticipated.

Sure, her body ached a little bit, but without noticing the red sclera, she would have never known she was sick.

She was quarantined right away, in the same room she has been in ever since she started treating other patients. Funny how the tables have turned, she thought as Dr. Satrinava came in to run tests on her. Her thumb rubbed against the ring that sat on her finger, twirling the band round and round in anticipation.

“You too, Nijah?”

“Seems so.”

The doctor tisked and shook their head, looking over their notes. “So it says that you saw it this morning right after you woke up. Was there something you may have done to cause the spread of the plague?”

“I took off my mask right after my last patient died.”

“Ah, I see.” Satrinava answered, scribbling frantically in their notes. Nijah knew they were silently judging her, for that was something they had taught all the apprentices not to do a long time ago. “It spreads much quicker than we anticipated…” Muttering a few key notes to themselves, they folded the paper and placed it in their pocket.

The doctor began a series of tests and treatments - some that were quick and practically painless, and some that felt horrible and lasted all day. She was forced to lather herself in animal bile, dance until her feet nearly bled, drink an herbal mixture that tasted nothing like she had imagined, and a few other things that truly made her feel even worse than before.

“Dr. Satrinava...do you think that all of this will work?” Nijah asked as she inhaled the scent of a dead rat through her nostrils. She silently applauded herself from not gagging.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try…” They said before packing up their medicinal cart. “I will be coming back with your dinner soon. Thank you for being cooperative with me today.”

“No problem...as long as the cure is found soon.”

“By the way,” they added, “as you were changing into your patient’s gown, I noticed that there was a document left in here for you.” They handed you a piece of paper, folded ever so perfectly. She knew exactly what this was.

As Dr. Satrinava exited the room, she curled up in the corner of her cot, opening the delicate piece of paper slowly. The way the ink traveled across the paper made her feel a sense of relief, and she swore his scent was embedded in the paper itself. It was as if she was in his arms all over again as her fingers trailed over every single word he had written for her eyes only.

My darling Nijah,

It pains me so much to leave your side. I would even be upset if I was only gone for a day. However, I do not know how long I will be away from you, which breaks my heart the most.

If you are reading this, it means that I am already at the palace in Vesuvia. Funny, isn’t it, that the castle was what brought us together and now it is tearing us apart? It’s a bittersweet irony that I cannot stop thinking about.

But although I cannot be with you now, I want you to know that my heart only longs for you. You’re the one I want to come home to every night, to wake up next to every morning, to spend every waking moment of every day. I can’t stop thinking about it, a life with you is the only thing I want.

One might think how I fell for you so quickly. Call it fate, call it destiny...when I first saw you in the ballroom, I knew I had found the one. You’ve been so kind, so sweet, so caring and loving to a man who doesn’t deserve anything at all...when I’m with you, Nijah, I’m home.

I promise I will marry you. I have another ring picked out so I may properly propose to you. We can take our time or we can rush things...whatever you want. I’m going to give you the life you’ve always wanted.

Wait for me. Please.

I love you,

Dr. Julian Devorak

Nijah held the paper close to her heart and clutched her swollen stomach with the other hand, the tears overflowing from her eyes. She realized she could never give him the future that he deserved.

And that made her feel worse than the plague ever could.

By the second day, her spirits were already low.

When she fell asleep the night before, she felt nothing but emptiness. She missed having Julian by her side, let alone anyone around her, and she tossed and turned in the cot until she finally drifted off to sleep. However, her mind was only filled with nightmares, waking her up after what felt like a few moments of sleep. She could feel the eye bags bulging as she woke up, not even able to be cured by a fresh breeze.

She knew that her body was aching and trembling, so much that even Dr. Satrinava was concerned. They ceased to do too many treatments that day for her sake, but still made their best attempt to give her some relief. But even the leeches weren’t enough.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really.” Nijah eyes the parasite sucking her blood out of her. This probably isn’t good for the baby, isn’t it? “It just makes me feel a little more...drained.”

The doctor chuckled under her breath, eyes twinkling a bit as she carefully peeled off the creature. “Even at your worst, you’re still trying your best. I respect that, Nijah.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

They placed the leech back in it’s jar and prepared to leave until tomorrow. “I will have someone else bring your dinner momentarily. I think it might make you feel better than the leeches.”

As if right on cue, there was a knock on the door to the room. The door creaked as another plague mask with a plate of warm food came into view.

“Hello?”

Nijah knew that voice right away, her entire face lighting up. “Katja!” She sprung up out of her seat a little too quickly, making her knees wobble as she fell right back into her spot.

Katja rushed over to her side. “Hey, don’t hurt yourself!” She laughed as she helped Nijah get settled in. She placed a soft blanket over her legs and placed the plate in her lap.

Dr. Satrinava nodded at the two friends, a smile crossing over their features. “Then I will leave you to it, Doctor 193.” And with one last wave, she was gone for the evening.

“Nijah, Nijah...what am I going to do with you?” Katja crossed her arms over her chest. “How in all the seven hells did you catch the plague?”

“I’m not the smartest, you see,” Nijah said with a mouth full of potatoes, “and I took off my mask after my last patient died.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I didn’t want to fill it with my tears.”

“Oh, that’s right…” Katja remembered their conversation previously in the dining hall, and how Nijah’s best friend from home had to die under her care. “I guess that is valid. Didn’t think the plague would spread so quickly, huh?”

“Definitely not.” Nijah moved on to the meat, chewing it roughly. It was more tender than she was used to.

“Have you heard from Dr. Devorak since you left?” Katja wiggled her eyebrows and gave her a smug grin.

“No, but…” Nijah sighed. “He wrote me a letter that I read yesterday. And he wanted me to stay here until he came back from Vesuvia, but it seems like that will be impossible now.”

Katja’s eyebrows knit sadly, her gloved hand rubbing against Nijah’s leg. “I’m sorry, dear.”

“He wants to marry me, Katja.” She confessed, holding out her ring finger for her friend to see. “He wants to spend the rest of his life with me. And I can’t even give him that.”

Katja’s gaze trailed over to the golden band, shining in the dim light of the room. “It’s beautiful, Nijah…”

“Want to know the worst part?” She choked up, her right hand pressing her stomach. “I’m...I’m pregnant, Katja.” She squeezed her eyes shut, the vulnerability of revealing such a huge secret frightening her.

Katja’s jaw nearly came unhinged from her skull. “Nijah...when were you going to tell me?” She shuffled closer to her friend, holding her ear next to her friend’s stomach. “How far along are you?”

“I have no idea. Jul-I mean, Dr. Devorak and I have...done it many times.”

Her friend’s face twisted in confusion. “Wait a minute. Just how many times are we talking about here?”

“Well…”

And so Nijah told her the whole story, how she met Dr. Devorak as a stranger at the masquerade, how he quite figuratively (and literally) swept her off her feet. From the enchanting first night they spent together to the time he cornered her in his office, telling her to forget that there was anything even between them. How Luka had tried to kill her if she didn’t let him have her body for the night, and how Dr. Devorak saved her life. She didn’t leave out any details, any moments, any words that he may have said. She wanted Katja to know everything.

A huge weight lifted off her shoulders as she finished the story. “And then he had to leave. Just like that. And he still doesn’t know…”

“Nijah…” Katja shook her head and let her gaze cross across the floor.

“And there’s no way he’ll ever know. He’ll never be back in time...to give me the cure…”

Nijah’s eyes overflowed with tears once more, a sensation she has become quite familiar with. She was hopeless by this point. She would never see Dr. Devorak again. She would never tell him that she had been carrying his child for months. She would never get to marry him. She would never spend the rest of her life with him.

In fact, she would be lucky if she even got to take a step outside of the walls of her cell, holding her back as if she was a prisoner. Nothing could save her from this terrible fate.

Katja knew her words couldn’t help her friend this time. As Nijah cried, she held her friend close to her chest, at least trying to give her one last bit of comfort before she was gone forever.

The third day was the worst of them all.

Nijah could barely feel anything but fire burning through her body. It hurt to move, to blink, hell, it even hurt to breathe. The ring and the rest of the clothes made it feel like something was holding her underwater, not giving her any room to catch her breath. Every time she coughed, it was like she was being stabbed in her chest. The blood splatters on the floor and on her hand made it more believable, as well.

She curled up on her side in the cot, not wanting to move a muscle any longer. She was ready to leave this world.

Katja came and saw her one more time. She was surprised to see her dear friend in such a terrible state. It looked like she hadn’t eaten in days, her body was nearly skin and bones, and she looked much paler than normal. The red dots on the ground were what worried her the most

“Wh...what happened here?” She asked with a worried tone, getting down on her knees to examine the spots left all over her side of the room. “You didn’t try to...” she continued, looking at her friend’s wrists.

As if on cue, another cough racked Nijah’s body, blood spurting out of her mouth and landing right at Katja’s feet. She fell deeper into the cot, feeling defeated. She was essentially hopeless.

“Nijah…” Katja muttered, a gloved finger rubbing through the droplets, “This...we’ve never seen something like this in a patient before. Have you?”

Nijah shook her head to the best of her ability. She thought she saw Selene cough up blood, but she couldn’t remember in her state.

“This...this is the biggest breakthrough we’ve made yet!” Katja jumped up, immediately jotting down as many notes as she could. “We can take samples of your blood and run tests on them. Valdemar and Satrinava could send the data results to Dr. Devorak and it could get him closer to the cure for...for…”

Her eyes fell on her dying friend. She had never seen someone she cared for looking so malnourished, so horribly fucked over in this way. A wave of sadness crashed over her mind as she came to sit next to her on the cot. 

“Ah, Nijah...I have a lot to thank you for. Not just for this. But I think you’ve made me better.” Katja took her clean gloved hand and patted her on the back. Nijah winced a bit, taking a gasp of air (that, of course, made her feel much worse).

“Ah, probably not the best thing to do right now.” Katja placed her hand in her lap, interlacing it with her other fingers. “...I mean it, though. Your kindness to me has helped me not be so bitter. Involving me in your life has made me feel like a part of something bigger than myself. I will cherish this friendship forever and ever. I’ll…” she sniffed, holding back tears. “...I’ll never forget you, Nijah.”

As she stood to leave, she opened her coat pocket and pulled out an iris. “I saw this while I was walking the grounds last night...and I think you would want it more than me.”  She placed the flower in front of Nijah’s hands, giving her friend one last smile before she left her forever.

“Goodbye, Nijah. Sweet dreams.”

As she shut the door behind her, Nijah decided to follow her orders, closing her eyes as her fingers gripped the frail flower stem, hoping her dreams would be better than reality.

I’ve been in this place before, she thought.

It was the same flower field from her first time meeting Selene. The same one she saw when she spent her first night with Julian. This was her favorite place. This time, there was no cloudy red skies or thunderstorms. The flowers bloomed gracefully, the sweet fragrances flowing from their buds, and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. The only thing she could see was life.

And she could feel the life inside of her, Julian’s child. She looked down and saw that her belly had swollen to twice its size underneath her cropped shirt and long pink skirt. She held it tenderly, rubbing it and wondering what her baby would look like when it was finally born. Had she and Julian talked about baby names yet? She kept on imagining that she would name him Azrael, but only time would tell who they will become.

Suddenly, she heard a voice come from behind her. She was surprised to see that Selene had reincarnated herself, wearing a flowing white dress, much different than her usual attire.

“Nijah! You’re here!” She shouted, hopping through the flowers to embrace her friend. She took great care to hold the baby bump, too. For Selene, the child would be like family to her.

As Nijah squeezed her friend around the shoulders, she felt someone else’s presence behind her. “Good to see you’re okay, hun.” That voice had to be Katja, she thought as her own arms held them all together, as if they were three peas inside of a pod. Their feminine scents overwhelmed Nijah’s nose to the point where she was almost dizzy.

“It’s so good to have you all here.” Nijah smiled as her friends released her, joining hands with each of them. These women meant so much to her, and she would be forever thankful for their roles in their lives. She just hoped they knew that.

Before long, a tall figure made their way through the flower beds. Nijah, of course, knew who they were right away.

“Dr. Jules!” She shouted, joined by the giggles of the women right beside her.

As he came even closer, she could see the happiness on his face. Finally, she thought, we can have the life we have wanted for so long. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, his hands cupping her face so perfectly.

“Ah, darling. You look as beautiful as ever.” He crooned, his hands moving down to the bump in her stomach. “And Odine is looking nearly as good as her mother.”

Nijah rolled her eyes. “How are you so sure it will be a girl?”

“I’m a doctor, my dear. I know these things.”

Her knees felt weak as he flashed his signature grin. She couldn’t resist it. He had a hold on her that she could never break free from, and she was just fine with that.

He turned around on his heel, looking back at her over his shoulder. “Are you ready for your next journey to begin?”

Without hesitation, she answered, “Yes.” And together, they all moved forward through the flowers, off into the setting sun.

And in that moment, her hurting soul finally left the world.

Julian was very busy at the palace, doing his best to find a cure. It turned out that Count Lucio had contracted it himself, although unlike the rest of the city, he had managed to have it for weeks and not die. It was a medical mystery to the doctor, but a pain in the ass for his coworker.

“Sometimes, I wish he would just die already.” Asra muttered under his breath as his fingers brushed against the book spines on the shelves in the library. 

Julian rolled his eyes, diving back into his work. For some reason, the magician rubbed him the wrong way. It was something about his cat-like smile making him think he was a suspicious person. His flat-out disdain for the Count was nothing but offensive to him, let alone the entire city. And the way his white hair bounced as he walked...Julian wished he could tame his curls to not have a mind on their own. He was completely jealous.

But, his mind trailed back to the woman who held his affections. He thought of her blonde, flowing hair, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the freckles dotting her cheeks and shoulders that he secretly loved, reminding him of the stars in the sky. He thought of her voice saying his name, her laugh directed at something witty he may have said or that he may have ran into a door frame. He thought of her fingers, touching him delicately across his face, making him feel at peace once again...

A knock on the door jolted Julian’s thoughts. A servant entered the room, a scroll rolled up in his hand.

“Dr. Devorak. This was sent for you.”

“For...me?” He asked, his cheeks feeling warm. He’s never received any sort of letters before, even when he was just beginning his practice.

He thanked the servant and unrolled it right where he stood. But, as he began to read it, he slowly sunk back into his chair, similar to his smile turning into a frown.

Dear Dr. Devorak,

I hope this letter finds you well. Unfortunately, I am writing this letter to bring you terrible news. Nijah has died of the plague.

She contacted it while taking care of her best friend, Selene, who passed after you left for the palace. Nijah may not have told you...she tended to keep her burdens to herself, didn’t she? Anyways, she caught it quickly after making a fatal mistake after her friend died. Although her mistake was tragic, her symptoms have given us further research to test and send to you in hopes that it will help you find the cure.

She is in a much better place now, Dr. Devorak. She spoke of you so highly, and she is so proud of your accomplishments. She loved you so much. Her final wish was to be buried with the ring you gifted her.

I hope that you continue to work hard so we can find a cure to the plague. We will be sending more research we have found once we have finished our tests. We are all looking forward to your discoveries, Dr. Devorak.

From,

Dr. 193, Katja Kuznetsov

Julian read the letter over and over again. He wished it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true. He had been at the palace for less than a week…

And he already lost the one thing that would make this task seem worth it.

Feeling defeated, he slumped over his desk, crumpling the letter in his hands. He felt the tears soaking into the sleeves around his forearms as his shoulders quivered from his emotions. He didn’t care if his sobs were audible or not. He didn’t care what Asra or Count Lucio or anyone thought of him.

His heart had broken completely. The love of his life was gone, because he couldn’t find the cure quickly enough. He had lost the woman who had given his life meaning. And there was no way to get her back.

Unless…

A candle flame went off in his mind. His lifted his head up to face the other man in the room, eyes and face red from his tears. “Asra.” He shouted desperately.

“Dr. De...Julian, are you okay?” Asra arrived to his side, placing a hand on the doctor’s shoulder.

“You are a magician, are you not?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I…” Julian hesitated, his voice trembling. “...I just lost someone very near and dear to me. Is there...a way to bring them back?” His vision was filled with sadness, but Asra could see a small glimmer of hope deep in the doctor’s grey eyes.

“Hmm,” Asra contemplated. “There is one way I know how. But it will take a lot of work on my end.” The magician’s hand trailed from Julian’s shoulder to his cheek bones. “What would be in it for me?”

“Oh, please! I’ll do anything you wish. Just please...save her.” Julian got down on his knees, folding his hands together and shaking them pleadingly. He was a man that wasn’t afraid to beg. Especially for the one thing he truly needed in this world.

Asra chuckled under his breath, his hand moving up to the auburn hair and pulling against it roughly, jerking the doctor’s head back. He got down on his knees, pressing a searing kiss right underneath his jawline. Julian squiremed, his face flushing. This felt so wrong, but as Asra’s teeth nipped his skin, he moaned rather loudly. It was definitely feeling so right.

The magician’s mouth drew away, curled in his signature smile. “Meet me at my shop after sunset. There are a few things we need to discuss first.”

Julian’s fingers ghosted over the mark Asra left on his skin. Did that just happen? He thought as he felt the magician’s fingers untangle from his hair. His mind was in a daze. Never before has anyone touched him in such a way. His eyes glazed over as he watched the magician stand to his feet and begin walking out the library. He shook his head, bringing him back to his senses.

“D-do you...want me to walk you home?”

Three years later…

“Wow. What a strange night.” Nijah mutters to herself as she looked out into the dark streets of Vesuvia.

First, her magical master Asra has suddenly left on a journey to another unknown world, one that he was keeping a secret from her. These trips were not unusual to her, but the fact that he was keeping it so secretive made her more suspicious than usual. She knew he was hiding something from her, but what could it be?

Then, the Countess has visited not long after he left, then requested that she move into the castle to assist with some sort of grand plan after she had read her tarot cards. She didn’t mind the countess too much, but knew that Asra would not be happy if she were to up and leave the shop for such a long time. Then again, she was the widow of the wicked Count Lucio, so she may have some evil scheme up her sleeve as well. She wasn’t sure if she could trust her.

What could happen next? She thought as she released the door, her attention turned back into the shop. It had been her home for so long. She didn’t remember how she got it, all she knew was that it was her and Asra’s home. It felt strange to her, though. She never thought she would own a magic store, let alone learn any magic from Asra. The past few years had really been an experience for her, and she felt like in a past life, she would have a calling doing something else.

Oh, dear, she thought. With all this trouble, I completely forgot to feed Gris. I must go bring her the cabbage I promised her. The thought of her manatee familiar all alone made her heart wrench. She started to make her way towards the kitchen to make her animal’s favorite snack.

Then, as the candle in her shop blew out, she froze.

The door had taken much longer for it to shut than normal.

“Strange hours for a shop to keep.”

What the…

She turns her head around, trying to see where the sound is coming from in the dark, only the light of the stars guiding her.

“...Behind you.”

Sure enough, when she turns, she sees a tall, dark figure looming against the door. He continues to speak, his voice muffled by his plague mask:

“Now, sources say that this is the witch’s lair...so who might you be?”

Nijah feels her heart racing in her chest as the masked figure comes closer and closer. What does this doctor want? She furrows her brows, concentrating on conjuring her magical powers. She twirls her fingers as she mutters a spell, a ball of water forming between her hands. She intended it to hit him right in the chest, a defense spell Asra had taught her a long time ago.

“Oh?” He laughs as he grabs her wrist with his gloves, the water between her fingers dissipating into thin air. He has her body trapped against the wall and his towering frame.

Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

What the hell is she supposed to do now?

“He’s been teaching you all his tricks? Unfortunately for you, I’ve seen them all befo-”

Reaching behind her, fingers grazing along the windowsill, she grabbed a glass bottle and smashed it on his forehead.

“Ack!”

Knocked loose by the blow, the stranger’s mask clatters to the floor. He’s bent over on the stones by her feet, trying to regain his composure. Nijah points the what’s left of the broken bottle in his direction, waiting for the moment she needed to strike again.

Nijah didn’t realize until it was too late that the bottle had been full, the water soaking his hair and the single globe amaranth lying on the floor around him. Bracing herself for the worse, she tightened her grip on the bottle as he slowly brought his head back up

Her racing heart stops cold when he lifts his bloodied gaze to hers, nearly dropping what’s left of the bottle.

“You do have guts.” He stated, his eyebrows furrowed.

She knew this man once. Everyone did. But she felt like she knew him a bit better than others might. She couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but she assumed she must have known him a long time ago, before her memories were lost. Maybe they were friends? Curly auburn hair, strong nose, pale skin, and those eyes…even though one of them was covered in an eyepatch, she still knew.

The band she felt on her ring finger felt much heavier than it normally did.

“Do...Doctor Jules?”

He gets to his feet once again, brushing the glass off of his coat.

“Haven’t heard that name in years...Nijah.”

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Photo Creds

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

[wonderlustlucas]

dancing through our house - kim yugyeom

⇢ prompt Feet don’t dance like they did with you.—“ghost of you” by 5 seconds of summer ⇢ pairing yugyeom x female reader ⇢ word count 2.5k ⇢ genre some fluff, but mainly heavy angst ⇢ warnings main character death; descriptions of anxiety & depression ⇢ summary In which some things are impossible to forget. ⇢ a/n this be hella sad i think i cried the whole time writing this. listen to the song for optimum sadness. my friend read this earlier and told me to quote what she said sooo: BUT LIKE EVEN THOUGH IT HITS YOU AT THE CORE AND YOUR LIKE WOW THIS IS SO GOOD YOUR ALSO LIKE FUCK THIS AUTHOR CAUSE WOW IM CRYIN

“You’re too pretty for a shitty place like this,” you commented boldly; however, no trace of humor laced your tone and, casual as ever, you took a long gulp from your red plastic cup as Yugyeom leaned against the marble island, speechless because he was the one that spent hours planning for this moment. He was the one that had an insufferable crush on your pretty face from the moment he tumbled headfirst, literally, into your life. Days had rolled into weeks which rolled into months and he simply could never bottle up all his feelings and serve them as they were, “Today’s the day,” he told himself practically every morning, yet as soon as he marched into the lecture hall with the courage of an ex-One Direction fan slash current K-pop fan and found you so, so effortlessly beautiful amongst your circle of friends, his tail shot between his legs and, alas, “Tomorrow. Tomorrow’s the day.”

And so, when Yugyeom’s first ever university end of year party rolled around, BamBam, Jeongguk, and Mingyu thrust an absurd amount of shots down his esophagus and propelled him like a rocket to where you concocted some sort of drink, he was ready this time. He was going to grab the bull—no, not a bull, you’re too pretty to even be labeled as some sort of animal—by the horns and spill out every last ounce of his emotions until his lungs collapsed, whether you remembered him from the first day of freshman orientation nearly six months ago when he oh-so-gracefully smacked your iced coffee right out of your hands or not. He was here now, prepared to do whatever it took to sweep you off your feet, not vice versa.

“You didn’t give me a chance to get to the good part of this conversation,” Yugyeom grumbled, ruffling his hair with his hands, he saw—he saw your eyes follow the motion and his heart absolutely picked up to a detrimental rate. “Wait,” you smiled—or was that a smirk you were hiding?—and added an ungodly amount of rum to your cup, “I think this is where you’re finally going to tell me how you feel and I’d rather embarrass myself drunk than embarrass myself sober because, I’ll have you know, I nearly shit my pants every time I see you.”

Suddenly Yugyeom’s tongue was pulsing like a heart in his very dry mouth and he most definitely misheard you—right? “Is that a good shit, or a bad shit?”

You laughed, a sound so sickly sweet he fleetingly considered smashing his head through the wall until your answer blessed his ears, “Nah, it’s a good shit. I heard you were head over heels for me, or something like that, back in January and I thought you’d come talk to me but—ah, never mind. Needless to say, we were both dumb for not just speaking up.”

“Does this mean if I ask you on a date you won’t reject me?” Yugyeom let out a shaky laugh, mesmerized with the way your skin glowed under the kitchen’s dimmed lights, he fought the urge not to cup your face and instead opted for stepping closer, breathing in your rosy perfume and nearly losing his shit, when you responded with a bashful smile.

“Yeah,” you sighed, much more breathless than you’d like to be, “you don’t have to worry about that anytime soon. Unless, of course, you’re a total dickhead or a terrible kisser,” you snorted, a noise usually found unpleasant but Yugyeom wanted nothing more than to prove to the world no fresh-out-of-the-pussy puppy was cuter than you; however, his prize-winning grin faltered when you went on, “which by the way, I think we should totally test that out. You know, in case you are a terrible kisser and I have time to back out of this dating proposition.”

Yugyeom didn’t need to be asked twice and yanked you forward so quickly you yelped, but, the gentleman he is, steadied you against his chest and dipped down to kiss you without a single drop of hesitation. His lips found yours effortlessly, heart singing with joy when you gasped against his mouth but melted into his arms nevertheless, his tongue ran along the seam of your lips, and he could just barely taste a hint of Doritos cheese as—

The shrieking of his cellphone like an angry rattlesnake renders Yugyeom’s peaceful dreaming of the beginning of his relationship with you nearly 3 years ago cut short-lived, he lets out an aggravated groan, slapping around the mattress aimlessly for the device before pressing down on the off button to shut the annoying blaring off.

Brain still clouded with sleep, Yugyeom flips onto his stomach and sighs blissfully, stretching his arm out to the pillows on the left side in order to determine whether you’ve already left for work or not.

Upon feeling the icy touch of the sheets Yugyeom rolls over to your side, relishing in mornings like these: he’s home, you’ll be home soon, he can spend the rest of the day—the whole day!—with you. Cheek pressed against your pillows, Yugyeom inhales a hefty breath of your scent, filling his lungs and brain with the jasmine and vanilla perfume from your shampoo. He smiles into the coolness of the downy pillow, contemplating whether he wants to send you good morning meme until, like a shit ton of bricks dumped on his head, the weight of the world falling on his shoulders, the realization hits Yugyeom slowly, cruelly.

He realizes, upon impact, that whether he texted your phone or not—you won’t answer. He could text you a million times a minute, call you even, and you wouldn’t answer because you’re not here. Eyelids fluttering open within milliseconds, Yugyeom jerks away from your side of the bed with a choke, clawing the sheets as he flies from the bed, nearly crumbling to the floor but catching a grip against the windowsill. You’re gone.

Breathless and with your smell multiplying like cells in his senses, Yugyeom reaches for the closest thing—one of his pillows hanging lopsided off the mattress—and pelts it to the wall across from where he stands, heaving, watching with disappointment as it thumps against the brick lightly and, consequently, not unleashing any of his pent-up emotions. Your beautiful heart isn’t even beating.

But he knows if you were here, you’d tell him he would be just fine.

The red and black and white grain muddling Yugyeom’s vision begins to clear as he chokes on air, the briny taste of tears enters his mouth when he licks his chapped lips and when did he start crying?

Six feet underground. Like the past thirty-three days, Yugyeom blinks away the rest of his tears and waits until they’re dribbling down his cheeks to wipe them, he lets out a shaky breath and proceeds with his day, plucking up the pillow and setting it back on the bed like you would’ve asked him to.

When he leaves the bedroom and makes way for the kitchen, he winces at the eerie silence of the apartment aside from the incessant percussion of birds singing outside the living room window and occasional creaking of the attendants an apartment above and decides some Chris Brown could do. Swinging open the refrigerator door, Yugyeom sighs at what’s inside—or, better, there lack of—and decides, he really needs to go grocery shopping; a half-empty gallon of milk, three eggs left in the carton, what’s left of the sliced bread, and four bottles of soju that has turned into medicine to cure his headaches and panic attacks rather than a way to enjoy nights like he used to with you.

Despite the persistent growling from his gut, Yugyeom only reaches for the milk, sets it down on the counter and hums—he hums!—something so insignificant but something he hasn’t done since your accident as he reaches for the dishwasher and pulls the door open. His humming stops when he catches sight of your coffee cup inside, mauve lipstick stain faded even more from the day before and he knows if he wants it to stay he has to stop using it every morning, but a part of him cannot help but reach for it because it’s just another part of you.

His stomach churns and keeps churning and suddenly Yugyeom’s head is heavy and saliva is flooding his mouth and he’s burning hotter than the star that keeps our planet alive and he scrambles to the stainless steel and heaves into the sink, expelling everything from his belly, which, ultimately, is nothing. Yugyeom dry-heaves, once, twice, before inhaling a shuddering breath, drool dripping from his lips and down his chin until he hastily wipes it away. With his appetite stolen like a rug whipped away from beneath his feet, Yugyeom slams the dishwasher door closed, the contents angrily rattling inside, and leaves the milk on the counter for he could not give less of a shit.

A cold shower fixes everything, love, you would say, the cold-shower freak yourself, he nods to himself, a cold shower will do, Yugyeom makes way for the bathroom and strips from his clothes that seem to stick to his sweaty body, twists the shower knob just slightly so the stream is at its coldest possible temperature before whipping aside the curtain and stepping inside. Yugyeom shudders at the contact of water against his skin, goosebumps spreading across his body head to toe and he presses himself against the wall, shivers wracking his body, squeezing his eyes tighttighttightuntil it all goes away, until he’s numb, until your standing beside him again.

His body, at some point, numbs to the frigid water and he finally backs away from the wall to stand underneath the shower head, running his hands through his raven hair, rubbing the crust away from his eyes, washing up quickly and using your body cleanser instead of his own. When Yugyeom’s finished, he dries off quickly and wraps the towel low on his hip, but frowns when he enters your bedroom because you’re not there to tell him how hot he is and how lucky you are, in which he would tackle your cute ass and smother your face in kisses, which, eventually, lead to his towel on the floor and your clothes dropped next to it.

A dinging notification from Yugyeom’s phone still buried beneath his pillows snaps him back to reality and he wanders over, scrolling through his notifications from the newest to the oldest.

DabDab🤮– 1:42 PM Hey bud. Hope ur getting there. Call me

Missed Call from DabDab🤮 – 11:23 AM

Missed Call from 🅱️eon 🅱️eongguk – 10:14 AM

Yugyeom sighs—he knows he should be grateful his friends care, but he simply does not care enough for himself to constantly answer their nagging questions. He contemplates ignoring it, he could shove the device back under the pillows and answer it tomorrow like he usually does, but he’s gone three days without talking to one of them and so, guilt makes up his mind and he’s tapping away until BamBam’s voice disturbs the deadened ambiance Yugyeom’s created in your bedroom.

“Hey! You called,” BamBam’s voice fills the hair, Yugyeom can almost see the smile, and falls back onto the mattress.

“I called.”

“I know you don’t want to talk, which I understand. But I want you to do me a favor,” BamBam goes on, Yugyeom pinches the bridge of his nose, biting back a sharp retort, “I want you to use that damn well-spent studio the two of you have in your apartment and freestyle. Just an hour. I know you were coming up for a choreo to something, I don’t know, but go do that.”

Yugyeom pauses, considering the idea, but shuts it down quickly because he does not want to do anything but lie here, “I can’t. Not today.”

“Yugyeom, you’ve said that to everything. I know you’re not doing anything, and I don’t blame you. But if there’s one thing you still have and love, that’s dancing. And I’m not arguing with you over this. Please, just do this. For me.”

Yugyeom hears the crack in his best friend’s voice, he can feel the pain through the phone, another ache to add to his poor heart, “I can’t go in that room without her, Bam.”

“You’ve had dance before you had ___, Yugyeom. You shared dance with her, you grew with her from it. You can do it without her. Do it for her, she’d be proud. Okay?”

Yugyeom swallows the lump in his throat, the tears threatening to spill from his burning eyes and his bottom lip trembles, “Okay.”

“Okay. Don’t say okay again, I’m not Augustus Waters,” BamBam chuckles, sniffling on his line and Yugyeom knows he’s crying too but manages to crack a smile, “okay. Fuck! I said it again. Alright, go dance your heart out for a little and take care of yourself. Also, don’t be a stranger. Please.”

Yugyeom nods, digging his knuckle into his eye to stop the tears, he croaks out, “Okay. Thanks, man. See you.”

He hangs up a moment later to let the tears spill freely.

An hour later, Yugyeom stands in the doorway of his—your—dance room, glaring questioningly at the mirrored walls around him, his pitiful reflection staring back at him. Do it for you, he tells himself, stepping inside and clicking the door shut behind him.

Yugyeom stretches his tense muscles, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror in fear he’ll back out or conjure up a mental image of your bruised and bloodied body in the hospital, he mustn’t think about it or else it’ll only get worse. He scrolls through his downloaded songs, zoned in on something other than you for the first time in weeks, going back and forth between a few options before caving in to another Chris Brown bop he cannot get away from.

Just like before, Yugyeom tells himself after his first slip-up, swinging his leg too far to the side and so he begins again, carrying himself with utmost grace and sharp, fluid movements but he shakes his head a minute and a half in—not good enough. “One, two, three, four,” he whispers to himself, starting from the top for the seventh time, he glides and twists and pulls and—

And he blanks hardly thirty seconds in, pausing, staring into his reflection, shuddering for oxygen, long hair tousled from the quick movements, limbs screaming at the sudden usage, and he can’t wrap his mind around what follows next.

“I can’t do it,” Yugyeom says to no one in particular, balling his fists at his sides before collapsing onto the smooth laminate, he looks to the corner of the room and if he squints hard enough, he can imagine you standing there, telling him he can do it, but his tears blur his vision so he buries his head between his knees, “I can’t do it without you.”

And Yugyeom cries for the thirty-third day, for his feet don’t dance like they used to with you.

[thecrazydragonlady]

“Shall We Dance?” Chapter 16

Author’s Notes: I’m all caught up on my chapter postings and this is the chapter everyone’s been waiting for! Enjoy!

Chapter 16

Marinette hummed lightly as she rocked back and forth on her heels, waiting. After a few moments, there was a knock on the door and Adrien walked in, hair disheveled and breathing a little hard, his gym bag slung over his left shoulder. She smiled brightly at him. He gulped.

Marinette, now wearing her practice clothes, had changed her hair style.

It was up in a bun.

He was sure he was ready to explode. The day had been nothing but an absolute tease and he had no idea why she had been doing it. After the Chloé incident this morning, Mari had returned to her normal self; only she included lots of winks and what he considered flirtatious comments in the mix. It had been… er… hard to concentrate all day. Even he wanted to slap himself for thinking of that pun but he refocused and considered why in the world she would have even done half of the things she had today. Maybe she was trying to trick him into revealing himself. Maybe she was just trying to change her style. The list of reasons she could be doing anything, or nothing at all depending on who he asked or spoke to, was numerous but he had no idea where to start in his thinking. For now, he just shot her his usual grin. He gently sat his bag down at the door (Plagg had given him an ear full back home after the last time). Marinette watched him, her smile never dimming, and he approached her slowly.

His eyes nearly glowed green in the dim lighting. She was amazed that she’d never seen it before- how similar he was to Chat. If Tikki was to be believed (and she always was) then it meant that the magic was lifted and the idea of two boys- one polite and kind, the other charming and witty- being just one was easier to swallow and see. God, how she could see them now. They overlapped in her mind causing it to spin.

She was perfectly alright with this.

They stood apart for some minutes before Adrien managed to choke out, “H-How did it go today? In your dance lessons I mean.”

She leaned her head a bit. “Wonderful,” she trilled, “I didn’t get as much practice last week as I did the week before so I was a tiny bit rusty but Madame Amelie still says I’m dancing way better than I did the first time. I think Nathaniel’s going to talk to you tomorrow. I told him about the lessons. He’s going to want to say thank-you for saving him from any more damage.” Adrien smirked.

“You? Damage someone?” Marinette’s face twisted and she stomped down, lightly and playfully, onto his foot. He jerked. Pretending to be really hurt, he clutched at his chest, nearly falling forward. “Marinette! That attack hurt me to the core.” She quickly put a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggle. Her silly, overdramatic kitty.

“I thought I couldn’t damage anyone,” she joshed. He sat back up, righted himself, and then bowed properly.

“My apologies.” She rolled her eyes but took the hand he now extended out.

“Don’t lie. You’re not sorry and you’ll make that joke again soon.” He smirked again (such a Chat like expression!) but didn’t deny it as he pulled her close, letting her find the proper hand placements.

The contact was a mistake. Adrien had to breathe slowly and evenly, thinking of anything except the perfect, beautiful girl currently in his arms. His heart was pounding a million miles a minute. Heat covered his face again. She made him dizzy and elated all at once but he’d promised; even though he had wanted to earlier, seconds later, his promise to not do anything to reveal himself came back to his mind and just like then, he found himself in an odd limbo of wanting to but unable to do anything. Marinette leaned her head back a bit to make eye-contact with him. Blue met green. The sky, the ocean, any paint Nathaniel could buy, nothing compared to that color. He breathed, feeling at peace, before starting off.

Their dance was far better than it had been the first time. Marinette wasn’t counting, nor was she stepping on his feet, and her eyes, soft and tender, stayed on him as they danced. Her scent intoxicated him again: she smelled of sugar and flour and vanilla and it was just as effective as him drinking a heavy liquor (he guessed). Her hand was soft in his and the other lay loose on his shoulder. Her back was straight, head held high, and her feet moving with none of the hesitation that had been there at the beginning; now she was showing her confidence just as assuredly as she knew how to throw her yo-yo.

He was dying. She was his murderer.

After a few minutes of their warm up, she stopped and reached over to turn the CD player on. A pleasant song began, which one she didn’t know, but she was happy with it either way; Adrien started moving in the box step and Marinette decided to do something bold. She took a breath and leaned in. Her head rested right on his chest. She’d seen characters in movies do this before (“How romantic,” Tikki had gushed when she’d told her what she planned on doing). She never imagined how easy it would be. Adrien, though, stiffened in surprised. She wasn’t looking up so she didn’t see the way he bit his bottom lip or how he turned his eyes skyward but she could feel both of his hands tighten on her and hear his heart beat speed up exponentially. A cheeky grin crossed her lips. It took a lot of will power to not giggle.

Adrien swore he heard a tiny giggle come from a corner of the room. A quick glance showed only a red and black streak ducking out of sight again into Marinette’s pink and gray gym bag. He smirked.

Good for Plagg. He deserved some time with his partner.

He let out his breath and turned back to his own partner. He leaned his head down a bit and whispered, “Ready to spin?” She leaned back, smiled, and nodded before following him into a perfect spin. She came back elated. “You’ve gotten really good at that Marinette.”

“Thanks. I happen to have a really good teacher.”

“They must be amazing if they have you grinning like that.”

“You can say they’re paws-itively clawsome.” He spluttered. An un-human sound came from his throat and his nose flamed red. She punned. Dear God above. Marinette Dupain-Cheng just PUNNED. Marinette smirked at him. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

If only she knew.

Adrien started to reply when suddenly, a rather large explosion rocked the school to its very foundation, causing him to jerk backwards, pulling her to himself before landing with a hard –thud- on the hardwood floor. Her face immediately buried into his chest. He protectively wrapped both arms around her until the shaking ceased. They looked out the window and saw an outlandish looking akuma passing by; dressed in a wide pink tutu with various sweets scattered about the outfit, she declared herself as Patisserie, the best baker in all of France. The two of them scrambled to their feet. He jolted as he realized that he couldn’t transform there. Marinette still hadn’t figured out his identity and that also meant she couldn’t transform; not at least in front of “civilian” him. He racked his brain before finally stuttering out, “We-we better go somewhere safe Mari….”

“Adrien….”

“If we slip out the back, we should be able to make it home….”

“Adrien….”

“I’ll make sure the hallway’s clear first before….”

“Adrien! Chat! Would you please just transform so we can handle this?” Adrien froze at the door, his hand out stretched for the handle. He heard her call for her transformation and the room was bathed in a sparkling red light; turning revealed Ladybug in Marinette’s place, opening the window, before tossing her yo-yo out. She looked back over her shoulder.

Decidedly, the human known as Adrien was no longer working.

“Kitty, it would be completely awesome if you could kindly assist me with this akuma.” He blinked and shook his head.

“You… you…!”

“Not the time kitty. We’ll talk afterwards. Meet me as soon as you transform.” Ladybug pulled on the yo-yo and flew out over the street, trying to catch up with the akuma. Adrien shook his head before calling, “Plagg, claws out!” He followed his lady with an eagerness to end this akuma faster than they’d ever finished one before.

****

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