#the eyes the hair and the anatomy were the hardest parts

[epicqtefail]

*covered in blood and dirt* I did my best at drawing in the lovely @autiacorart's gorgeous style!

ever since i saw your Connor with his sparkly eyes and luscious curly hollywood heartthrob forelock, i've had the mightiest urge to have a go at drawing him!! very ambitious of me, but damn, was it a fun (if very difficult lol) challenge :''D

Thank you so much for doing this challenge with me and for sharing your stunning work with this community. Your artistic flexibility knows no bounds with the way you pull on our heartstrings, make us laugh, and awe us with some of the most badass artwork i've ever seen <3 <3 <3

>>>>AUTIACORA'S PART OF THE CHALLENGE <<<< so goodddd

Also, this was me trying to attempt the lineart the first time (had a great time with it though :''D)

[junkissed]

like a chair

member — jeonghan x f reader genre — smut word count — 1.4k synopsis — when jeonghan tells you to sit, you sit. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, face sitting, oral (reader receiving), hair pulling (jh receiving), overstimulation (both receiving), pet names (princess, baby), jeonghan is a dirty little masochist and he cums in his pants notes — jeonghan pussy eater agenda everyone say amen. tagging @duhnova because they'd be mad at me if i didn't

there’s a muffled noise between your legs and you lift your hips up, wincing at the sudden feeling of cold air.

“why’d you move?” jeonghan asks below you, clearly out of breath but pretending not to be. he’s wearing nothing except for his sweatpants, his bare arms wrapped securely around your thighs as he lays against the bed.

you look down at him, unconsciously squeezing your legs around his head when you see the mess around his mouth. his cheeks are a deep shade of pink and his lips are swollen and sticky, glistening with spit and slick. “you were trying to say something?”

“just talking to myself about how good you taste.” he smirks and tugs at your thighs to pull you back down onto his mouth, flicking his tongue upwards through your folds when you try to resist.

you frown and cross your arms, ignoring the tingling in your stomach as you watch his nails dig into your skin, his fingers turning pale at the tightness of his grip. “well, don’t do that. it makes me think i’m suffocating you.”

“princess, i appreciate your concern, but when i say sit on my face, i mean sit. like a chair. don’t think about me.”

“hannie—”

but before you can say anything he yanks you down hard, catching you off guard as you fall against his waiting mouth. you whimper as his lips immediately wrap around your clit, one hand shooting out to grip the headboard to stabilize yourself.

you look down between your legs where you can just barely see the top half of jeonghan’s face, his tangled hair sprawled across the pillow. his eyes are the only part of him that’s visible, hungrily staring straight up at you, as if he’s daring you to sit up again and see what happens.

you throw your head back with a breathy groan. the sloppy sounds coming from beneath you go straight to your core, the knot in your stomach tightening too fast for you to keep up with.

you try your hardest to resist the urge to grind against his mouth, but he knows you too well and knows you’re holding back, which is not what he wants, despite how you worry about him. his hands slide behind your ass and you look down again, finding an almost disappointed look in his eyes as he starts to rock your hips back and forth.

your other hand falls to his hair, weaving your fingers through it and tugging as you give in, dragging your pussy across his tongue with a whine. you can feel him smile against you when you grip his hair tighter, pushing your hips into his eager mouth. 

if there’s one thing jeonghan loves more than anything in the world, it’s when you use him for your pleasure. he usually has to coax you into it at first, not wanting to hurt him, but once your orgasm starts to close in something changes and suddenly you’re more frantic with your movements, more desperate to get off, the only thought occupying your mind is how good the feeling of his mouth, or his fingers or his cock or whatever’s inside you, is.

he lets your hand in his hair guide him, pushing and pulling his head around exactly where you want him. he can tell you’ve stopped thinking, focused only on the feeling of your walls throbbing around his tongue and his nose pressed against your clit. 

he can feel his cock straining against his pants, aching from not being touched, but the wait is well worth it when he finally gets to feel you cum on his mouth. he groans at the thought and you pull his hair harder, moaning out his name as you grind down on his mouth. his grip on your ass tightens, and he can feel his own spit mixed with your wetness dripping down his chin.

“fuck, hannie, right— right there! please,” you gasp out, your thighs squeezing the sides of his head so hard it makes him dizzy.

if his mouth wasn’t currently occupied he would make you beg him for permission before you cum, but he’s feeling generous tonight, as he usually does when you let him eat you out like this.

he purses his lips around your clit, sucking as hard as he can, and he can feel your legs tense up as you finally break, a flood of wetness seeping onto his tongue. your fingers clench and unclench in his hair, almost in rhythm with the way your cunt clenches above his mouth. 

he never lets up, continuing to drag your hips as you ride his face through your orgasm. you try to lift yourself up a little, flinching away from him, but his grip on you is firm. he holds you down against his mouth as he laps at your pussy, determined to clean up every last drop that spills out of you despite your whines and pleas.

he keeps going even when you call his name, the words stuck in your throat as you struggle to breathe through the overstimulation. you tug on his hair one more time to get his attention, but instead it just pushes him over the edge before he can even see it coming.

he nearly blacks out for a second, eyes squeezed shut as he releases a guttural moan into your pussy. his fingers loosen and you finally manage to break away from him, pushing your hips away from his face and falling to the side as your legs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

without your cunt smothering his face jeonghan finally gasps for air, his mouth hanging open and his chest heaving with shallow, hurried inhales. the dark stain on his sweatpants continues to grow as he lets out soft groans, his cock jerking as warmth floods his abdomen. 

you roll onto your back and look over at him, still panting as you start to catch your breath. watching the distant look in his eyes makes you grin, and you lean over to kiss a dry spot on his cheek. his hand falls to your shoulder as he pulls you closer to kiss you properly, and you whimper at the wetness on his warm lips.

the kiss doesn’t last very long, though, and he pulls back with a long sigh, still trying to even out his breathing. you rest your head on his chest and look up at him, captivated with how fucked out he looks as you wait for him to return to you.

after a moment he looks down at you, meeting your eyes with a mischievous smile. “see? didn’t suffocate,” he says, almost proudly.

you roll your eyes in response, swiping your thumb across his nose to wipe away some of the wetness, though it doesn’t make much of a difference. he sighs again and relaxes into the bed, but you move your fingers to his neck and he tenses up again, grinning when he sees you’re not quite done for the night.

your hand slides down his bare chest, drifting over his defined abs and pausing at the waistband of his sweats before resting on top of the wet spot, adding just a little bit of pressure. he moans and pushes his hips into your hand, shivering as his own overstimulation begins to set in at your touch.

“baby—mmh, too much,” he whimpers, his smile instantly falling. his hand moves on top of yours but his grip is light, his body telling a different story than his words.

you lean over his face and drag your tongue across his chin, keeping your eyes locked with his as you clean up the mess you’d left behind. “can’t believe you came untouched, just from letting me ride your face,” you whisper with a mischievous smile of your own. “you like it, don’t you? it gets you off, when you make me cum all over your tongue.”

“fuck,” he curses, arching his hips off the bed as he pushes his ruined sweats off onto the floor. “i can go again, just wait, please.”

you press another kiss to his puffy lips, deciding to be generous to him, too. “eat me out until you’re hard again and then i’ll suck you off, okay?”

suddenly with newfound energy he flips you onto your back, grinning as he shimmies down the bed and pries your shaky legs apart. “deal.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[beelsari]

OM! Brothers reacting to mc’s heat!

for some background, i firmly believe that humans would go into a “heat” due to sexual desire and pleasure being intensified in Devildom.

TW: SMUT mdni

Dom! Mammon x female anatomy mc

This is my first ever smut writing so pls be easy on me!!

Follow for the rest of the brothers part and message me if there are any other characters you’d like done!

MAMMON

You’re sitting in your room so desperate. You’ve never need to be taken care of as bad as you do now. You know Lucifer told all the brothers to not act upon your heat, making them all tense from trying not to pounce on you immediately. You’ve been condemned to your room till your heat is over, making you and them miserable. The only time you leave is to go to the bathroom or eat, in which Mammon tries his hardest to avoid you, knowing his self control with you is basically nothing, he couldn’t stop himself from dragging you back into his room and taking you for himself. But nonetheless he tries to control himself for you, he doesn’t want to scare or hurt you. As you’re in your bed, rutting against your pillows, you decided you can’t handle it anymore. You need your first man to make it better. You text Mammon immediately.

MC: come to my room please, you’re the only one who can help

Before you can put you’re phone down there is a knock on your door. You get up and unlock the door, mammon shoves his way in and kisses you immediately. He’s so desperately running his hands all over you while you whimper into his mouth. He leads you back to your bed while now kissing down your neck. “ya need your first man to take care of ya treasure? ya know no one can make ya feel the way I can. I’ll make ya feel like you’re in heaven just to drag you back down to hell with me baby” he groans into your neck while his hands make way down your body. He leaves hickies all over your neck and chest, claiming his treasure from all the others who so desperately wish they were him right now. Mammon’s ego is soaring as you’re begging and whimpering under him. You need him so bad it hurts. “Mammon please touch me already please” he groans at your words “fuck baby do ya know what ya do to me when you speak like that. I could never deny ya” he mutters as he kisses down you’re stomach. You’re skin is on fire from his touch, you try to buck your hips up but Mammon has a tight grip on your hips, holding you just where he wants you. His dominating presence makes you moan alone. Along with the dirty words he’s whispering to you, you could cum without his touch. You’re whines get louder the further down he goes until he reaches your core. He gently pulls your underwear down your legs and gives your inner thighs sweet pecks. He looks up at you while licking a long stripe up your core and places a gentle kiss to your clit. you moan immediately from the eye contact and the intense pleasure just this small act gives you. “MC look at me, look at who is giving ya all this pleasure, who’s going to make ya cum so much you’ll only remember my name”. With that he goes all in, licking and sucking until your hands pulling strands of his white hair and your back is arched of the bed. Mammon is rutting against the bed as he could cum just off the noises your making for him. He groans into your core every time you moan his name and goes rougher. He can feel you get close to the edge, “Let go for me treasure” With that you’re moaning obscenely loud while your legs shake under mammons big hands. You cum harder than you ever have, but it’s still not enough.

As if reading your mind, Mammon flips you over immediately, he needs you now. He pushes your back down while hold up your hips, putting you in a perfect arch for him. His cock is straining so hard against his boxers. “look how hard ya make me precious” he moans as he grinds his bulge into your bare core. “Please mammon I can handle it” you moan. Mammon grunts and rips his underwear off immediately at your begging, rubbing his tip up and down your slit. “Gonna make ya mine” he mutters before slowly pushing in. You both moan at the initial push, he grabs a handful of your ass while you’re holding onto the sheets. He pushes in all the way and you gasp. he grunts animalistically, “ya take it so well treasure, take all this cock honey” he says as he starts thrusting into you at a fast but controlled pace. He doesn’t mean to start off so rough but he can’t control himself any longer, he needs all of you. All the pleasure you are both receiving causes Mammon to switch to his demon form and tower over you. You’re moaning and begging so loud you know everyone else in HoL can hear you. Mammon loves it, he knows everyone else is fucking their fist to the sound of mammon fucking his human. “moan my name human…ah fuck- tell everyone how good the Great Mammon is fucking his little human” mammon moans from behind you. “Ahh-!Mammon it’s so good! Please-e I need your cock only the Great Mammon~ah!” you whimper out. At that mammon grabs your hair pulling your back up to his chest as he wraps his hand around your throat, the other resting on your lower stomach. He pounds into you vigorously while kissing you, he feels you getting closer. You’re barely kissing back, all you can do is moan. You can’t think or barely speak, all you can whimper is please. Mammon smirks into the kiss, “wanna cum on your master’s cock hm? Do it baby, cum all over me”. You cum on his command, he rides you threw it and then some. He’s still pounding roughly into you, overstimulating you like crazy. You’re moaning and shaking in his hands as he is about to cum “fuck-k treasure take my cum inside ya, let me claim ya” he moans. “Please!” You scream. With that you feel his cock twitch and pump you full of cum. He’s moaning just as loud as you and rocking his hips into yours to make sure he fills you up as deep as he can. As you try to wiggle away from his cock overstimulating you he flips you over. “where are you running human? you’re not done yet, your first man is going to make sure you won’t even think of anyone else, now be a good girl and take all of it treasure” he whispers in your ear as he holds your legs up to your shoulders. After tonight you no longer suffer from your heat all thanks to your great mammon<3.

[erinfern0]

thank you for being here.

simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader

— gender-neutral nicknames, gender-neutral anatomy, only pronouns used are you, etc.

summary: how can you ever deny simon, when he actually lets his guard down for you and asks for more?

warnings: established relationship, praise, use of lube, anal fingering, sweet comfort sex, slight power bottom behavior from simon, a little bit of biting, jerking off, etc. a little bit of fluff at the end.

a/n: part two of 'soft vulnerability', check part one out before this!

Please, reblog my work if you like it!!

His position changed slightly as Simon allowed himself to arch his back, pushing the pillow under his hips to lift them. You kissed your way up his spine again to lay beside him, pressing your chest against his back. As one of your hands reached down to guide his hips, the other one found itself messing with his hair. A soft hum left his throat as you teasingly pulled on it.

"Is that okay?" you asked, leaning over him to reach his ear. You pressed your forehead against the back of his head, feeling him nod slightly with shallow breaths. You could hear him take deeper breaths just to smell you behind him, reaching down to interlock your fingers again.

Simon started to slowly fidget with your fingers, holding your palm over his hip. He liked the way your body was against his, even if he had to do something he hated as much as turning his back on anyone. Trust was one of the hardest things to get from him. Knowing that, you smiled proudly and slowed down the brush of your fingers over his hair.

The warmth and comfort of his presence was almost overwhelming. It never felt like the day he gets so vulnerable would ever come, but there you were, lying behind him with him allowing you to do all of this.

You kissed right behind his ear, earning a shift of his head that turned towards you. His eyes quickly scanned over your face before he pressed his forehead against yours. You knew how important eye contact was to Simon, so you waited.

You smiled, feeling him relax and leave your hand to reach for the bottle of lube that was closer to him than you. Simon gave it to you, still looking into your eyes as you sat up to open it and pour some over your fingers. The cool of it made you chuckle, rubbing it between your digits to get it a little warmer.

Simon wanted to thank you for that sweet act, but before he could, you pressed your lips against his. You just couldn't help yourself when you looked at his expression, hazed with trust and arousal. It was soft and quick, a slight peck, so you could pull away and look at him, trying to chase you.

"That's mean, love." he pointed out, a slight roll of his eyes made you chuckle before you kissed him again, this time allowing him to pull you closer by placing his hand on the back of your neck. You whimpered when he deepened the kiss, teasing your lower lip with his tongue.

Before you could even think about letting him in, he pulled away with that cocky smirk of his, flashing his teeth at you. Another chuckle left your mouth as you fixed your position, one hand still playing with his hair. The other one made its way down, caressing his thigh with the back of your palm as you leaned forward to press a kiss on his cheek.

"You wanted more, remember?" you asked when he tried to connect your lips again. Your hand ran from his hair to his face, softly caressing it. His eyes closed as you rubbed the scar on his jaw, admiring the feeling of it under your fingertips.

At the same time, your other hand groped his butt, causing him to spread his legs a little wider and pressed his pelvis against the pillow beneath him. Simon gasped and gripped the sheets when your fingers gently teased the hole that just seconds ago felt your tongue all over it.

His eyes closed shut. The movement of your digits was simple, small circles just to get him used to the feeling. Soon enough, you began to put more pressure, loving the way he clenches around them. Simon started grinding against the pillow, arching his back to meet the warmth of your palm.

One of the rocks of his hips made your middle finger slowly slip into him, just to the first knuckle. Simon gasped again, pressing his lips together. You smiled, pressing a kiss to the back of his head, allowing him to place it on your shoulder. It allowed you to place another kiss on his cheek.

"Feels nice?" you teased, moving your lips down his neck, earning a pleased growl for him. You allowed your finger to slowly thrust in and out of him. The way he tightened around you made your voice shudder over him. "You look so good like this..."

"Do I?" Simon asked, his hand reaching behind to bring your leg over his thigh, loving the way your weight felt. The closeness of your bodies pressed together, your slick finger slowly sliding into him made his mind dizzy and fogged. But for the first time in his life, something like this felt good. It felt right to melt under your fingertips.

"Mhm... Wish you could see yourself." he shivered at your words, gasping and bucking his hips more. You grazed over his shoulder with your teeth, grinding your hips against him to ease the tension building between your legs. "I'm so proud of you, Simon."

He couldn't help the smile crawling its way onto his lips, his muscles relaxing until he enveloped your whole finger. A few curses slipped from his lips when you moved it again, curling inside to find the spot that made him grunt in pleasure.

Soon enough, he got used to it, panting into the pillow under his head rhythmically to the way you slowly fingered him. Simon was getting louder in expressing his pleasure, especially when you added another finger. His walls deliciously clenched around them every time you tried to pull out.

"Faster," he mumbled against the pillow, adjusting himself, so his cock could rut against the sheets with each one of your thrusts into him. His hand that gripped your thigh moved a few inches, just for him to grasp your ass and pull you closer to him, which made you bite into his shoulder again.

You did as he asked, picking up the pace and allowing your fingers to slam in and out of him, causing him to wither beside you. Simon's voice started to be more audible through soft moans of his when you pushed both fingers in, pressing them against his prostate. Focusing on it brought him closer to the edge, his tip leaking all over the sheets.

"So beautiful for me, yeah?" you asked against his heated skin, the arousal in your voice almost bringing him to his orgasm. The coil building up in his stomach combined with the sting of your teeth on his shoulder and the ache of his cock roughly moving against the soft sheets made him slowly lose his mind.

Right before he came, Simon turned his head towards you, pushing his lips against yours with a silenced moan. You could feel the way he smiled during it, barely able to stop himself. He wrapped his fingers around his sensitive, neglected shaft to jerk himself off as you fucked him so well, his mind drifted away.

Soon enough, you had to slow down the movements of your hand, trying not to harm him as he rapidly tightened around you, his orgasm making his legs shiver, painting the sheets with his thick cum. The way he pulled away from the kiss just to groan your name made you whimper.

You softly pulled your fingers out, running them around his asshole to feel it gape, closing over nothing. "That was..." you started, kissing his shoulder in appreciation. He finally opened his eyes, immediately finding yours beside him. The warmth of your gaze focused on watching his expression for any signs of discomfort, made him fall in love with you once more.

"You're perfect... Do I tell you this enough?" you asked, almost mesmerized by the sinful image of his blushed face and the mess you two created.

"I don't tell you this enough." he corrected, slowly turning around to sit beside you, trying not to look at himself in the mirror opposite to your bed. Simon wrapped his arm around you, pressing soft kisses all over your lips before he spoke again. "Thank you."

"For what?" you asked with a confused giggle, still chasing after his lips. "For this?" you added, pressing another kiss to his jaw.

"Nah." he shook his head lightly, rubbing the place you kissed. "For all of it. For just being you... Being here." and you couldn't help but fall into his arms, whispering how grateful you were for him too.

masterlist | request info

[askvashthetyphoon]

Restraint

VashxFemale reader, biting, scratching, sexicles, -18 do not interact, alien anatomy lol

During one of the humanoid typhoons many adventures, somehow, you were swept up into his group.

 A survivor of one of the many unsuccessful attempted human settlements.

 Now, it was Milly, Meryl, Wolfwood, and of course Vash, trying their best to stay alive on the hellhole planet that was No-Man’s Land. You weren’t as good of a shot as Vash(was anyone), as strong as Milly, or packed as much of a punch as Wolfwood. However, you were very dexterous, sly, and thoughtful, something the group sorely lacked. More than once, you’re quick thinking had gotten them out of the tightest of pickles, often saving plants or extra humans in the process.

Your relationship with Vash had started as nothing more than a crush. You thought he was weird, but cute. With that fluff of blonde hair and those dazzling blue eyes, bright as the sky on the most blazing summer day. He smelled good too- different than most people. When everyone else was drenched in sweat and swearing lowly under their breath from the blazing heat…  he only ever smelled of dandelions, gun oil, and faint powdery sweetness.

He was also stupid. But the more you spent time together, the more you realized the stupid part was an act(mostly). You admired his morals. How was it he could keep such hope for the human race, when all he ever got was shot in the back? How was it that he managed to guide humanity towards being a better version of themselves, all while minimizing bloodshed?

You didn’t understand. But you did understand that for whatever reason he wasn’t interested in you.

That was what you thought, anyway. Until one night, while drunk, when he smooched you square across your lips and you recognized it.

That desperate kind of loneliness behind that kiss. Seeping out like blood from a bullet wound, no matter how tight the bandage was. From then on, it became your mission. You wanted him to let go, even if only for one night.

But he was the hardest case you’d ever encountered. He was excellent at ditching the group, and you, especially at times when you’d thought you’d been making progress. He gave such mixed messages- leaning in one moment, darting away the next. It was clear that he wanted to be with you, but was also resisting for some reason you couldn’t understand, and he wouldn’t talk about.

It hurt.

He hated hurting you, yet seemed unable to explain his own actions.

When you found out that he was a plant, things made more sense. The aging thing would probably tear him apart from the inside out. Better to just be friends than anything else right?

Better to bury a friend than a lover. Better to remember only hugs and kisses than anything else.

Yet.

You both found yourself slipping. Soft sweet kisses turning into hot makeout sessions away from the group. Gentle shoulder squeezes turning into roaming up and down each other’s bodies, up underneath clothes. Under that huge jacket, Vash was a bit of a brick house. You’d never know he had such wide shoulders under there. And the squeaks of embarrassment he gave were irresistible… especially when you managed to slip a finger into the groove of his scars. Or press a kiss directly on a mottled, ugly bruise.

You both slipped deeper. Beginning to share rooms more and more often, getting drunk together, going out for breakfast in the morning and dinners in the evenings when you could. And yet. It was strange. When you finally did have sex, there was something incredibly … restrained about it. Vash seemed too self-aware, too tense. You could feel it in the way he moved, almost… jerkily.

And the moment he did start to lose himself-

the moment those lights just under his skin started to snake a blue pattern out across his chest…

He’d stop. Tense up. Calm that side of himself. Then keep going.

It was so utterly disappointing. The sex itself was… fine. But knowing he wasn’t giving you all of himself was unbearable. Hell, you were pretty sure he was actually faking an orgasm… But that was besides the point.

You wanted to see the beast part too. Everyone had one- even you! The part that demanded that part of him. That wanted to be thrown around and bitten and scratched and claimed by whatever was under his skin. The part that made it so difficult to sit, composed, while you were busy burning from the inside out. Your insides so slick when you thought of the bestial side of him,  that they stained your underwear and sometimes, even managed a stain on the seam of your jeans.

And that beastly side of him could tell.

You could tell when Vash’s ears went red, his hand tightening up on whatever he happened to be holding at the moment. His Adam’s apple bobbing a bit as he fought back… whatever it was, with every fiber inside him.

Sometimes, you could see it peeking through. Vash’s canines would become strangely long, his fingernails seeming to morph into fine points. The pupils of his eyes elongating like a cat’s behind his glasses, the blue beginning to blot out the white’s of his eyes. Tiny little neon galaxies blooming.

Oh, yes. There was something under there that wanted you, as badly as you wanted it.

But he’d blink them away.

It was So bad that at times, it’d take Wolfwood two or three times to snap Vash out of it as he struggled for control.

It was so irritating. His walls were almost perfect no matter how much you pushed and prodded.

Until.

You awake one morning to a growling and spitting you’d never heard before. Wolfwood and Millie were busy in the room next door; you could hear scraping and swearing and gun shots. At first you thought they were fighting some kind of animal.

Until.

“Vash! Fucker, snap out of it!” From Wolfwood.

And a softer, more desperate, “Vash! It’s okay, we’re here!” You couldn’t help yourself from peeking in- instantly, being blocked by Wolfwoods thick arm.

“Uh-uh. You stay put. Knives is doing something to the plants. It’s got Vash spooked. You-” But he didn’t get to finish as the cried from the creature quieted suddenly. It’s wings folding and some of its tentacle-roots retacting until underneath, you saw something that was Vash. But also, very not.

Roots, thick, purple-black, and pulsing, poured from his back like spilled ink. Dotting these were fine purple flowers, blooming and creating a smell that made you dizzy when you inhaled. His fingers and toes tipped with blackened, sharp claws that glittered in a dangerous way. A long black tail slapped the ground angrily- feathered or furred you couldn’t discern. Only the tip was forked like an arrowhead.

And most beautiful of all- the wings. Were their four, or six? It was hard to tell. Two larger main ones, and then smaller ones lined either side of his spine. An enchantingly messy mix. They were so dark black they seemed to absorb light itself, tiny purple lights winking deep inside those feathers, ethereal and inhuman.

His skin was covered with those markings now, a distressed neon purple shining bright against suntanned skin. Yet, as he looked at you, they began to change color. The one’s near his chest blooming a soft blue once more as he muttered, “I…?”

His voice coming out in a growl that you’d never heard before. Without thinking, you went to him. Crouching down in front of him even though both Milly and Wolfwood warned against it, keeping their guns trained on Vash.

You kissed him.

The blue color spread down his chest, up his arms and legs.

“Leave him with me. I think I can help him.” You murmured to their shocked faces as you took Vash’s head in your hands. Smooching right between two horns that you’d just noticed jutting out from behind his temples. Striped with geometric purple markings, and warm to the touch, with pointed ends. Sort of antelope-like in the way they curled.

It took some time to get Wolfwood and Milly out of the room. But once you did, the fun began. Before you were even really aware of it you were on your back. Those long claws shredding everything that stood between him and your naked body.

At first, you were afraid. That was, until he started kissing a line up your belly. Between your breasts. Your body held gently yet firmly in a loop of an inhuman arm. Too long and strong to be anything human.

“…Vash…”

His eyes flicked to you for a moment. His pupils nothing but black leaves in a sea of sky blue. Flicking for a moment, back to round. You could see panic starting to set in. His hand shaking and beginning to pull away. You cupped his chin and whispered, “Vash, this is you, too. This is a part of you. And I love every part of you. So please…”

You grabbed his clawed hand and kissed it, then him again. So softly and sweetly, like two butterfly wings brushing briefly in a golden field.

“Let me be with every version of you.”

For a moment, he was back completely. And there were tears streaming down his face, white hot.

“I’ll hurt you.” He whispered, his tears dripping gently down the outsides of his face and mixing into that perfect blonde hair. Blackened at the bottom from using too much of his power.

“I trust you.”

“I’m scared.”

You kissed him again, knotting your hand in the back of his hair. Feelings the way his vines were sort of tangling around your arms and legs. The way his wings were curled and cupped around you protectively.

“I am too. But there’s no version of you that would hurt me in any way that matters.”

You felt his hot tears dot your chest as he hiccupped, choking back crying.

Then, he nodded. And he let go.

After that, everything happened very quickly. You were soon parted from any and all scraps of clothing. Given a good lick-down between the legs until you were practically crying with desire. So cruel.

And then all the sudden, too full. You didn’t even get the chance to see what exactly what was between his legs before he was inside you, nudging up carefully, since he was a bit bigger than most humans.

Biting and growling all along your collarbone as he did so. Sucking hard, leaving hickeys. A clawed hand cupping your collarbone. You were like a doll in his arms, the expanse of his shoulders hiding you completely from the world.

It felt… quite different than any other man you’d had before. There were sweet, hard sections to it that spread gently. Sort of like a pinecone but made of hot, wet flesh. The edges spreading and rubbing everywhere against you the farther up he went. The 'core' of it so hot and thick it made you to whimper and wriggle with desire.

He growled a soft, chuckling sound as you bucked. Pinning you to prevent you from taking him too fast, no matter how much you wanted him all at once.

 You were full to bursting by the time he was fully seated inside you; so stretched that you were a little worried you’d pop somewhere. The first of many orgasms rippled up your body all at once. And you barely had a chance to take a breath before he set a punishing pace.

During the middle, things got fuzzy. He moved you a few times to get better angles, but he was always the one in control. Sometimes having to drag his claws along the floorboards to avoid goring you in his frenzy.

Unlike the other Vash, this one was loud. Growling, hissing, purring, clicking. The wings flapping occasionally. The roots twining around the bed, the lamp, the table.

They were sounds you’d only ever heard from Vash when you’d startled him in the dark. He’s place his ear against your mouth too, huffing softly, wanting to hear you in return. Giving rough nuzzles against your neck and on the side of your face when he figured out what made you make the right noises. What pleased you.

Your hands scrambled along his body as he took you. Settling sometimes on the wickedly small tightness of his lower back. Still dimpled, even in this form, and slick with sweet smelling sweat. Other times hooking on his shoulders, dug in around the base of his wings. Feeling the spreading of the flowers that dotted his body blooming around your fingers.

If you were lucky, you’d get your chin up on his shoulder so you could breathe. But for the most part you were tucked against his chest, breathing hard against the metal that laced under his skin. Against the thousand cuts and scrapes and scars that you and every other human had inflicted on him.

The pollen in the air making you dizzy. Making you so incredibly wet that he accidentally slipped out more than once, thrusting back up with an annoyed huffy growl and pinning your hips to keep you in place.

You kissed and nibbled mindlessly along every one of those scars, trying to keep up.

All of the sudden, you heard a small crack. And he leaned down, you baring your neck for what you assumed would be another bite or nip.

Only this time, it was deep. Piercing.

Canines sinking in on both sides of your neck, both veins. Tapping into your lifeblood. A red streak running down either side, becoming laced with blue as venom poured from him into you.

At the same time, his hips bucking deep, his body shivering slightly as he came. It was quite hot; you felt it blooming deep inside you like a shot of alcohol on a freezing night.

His arms were all around you now. No part of you touching the scratched and soiled floor as he cradled you so lovingly, so tenderly despite every part of him being a weapon. His roots twining around you, soothingly petting up and down your back. His wings a black tent around you, blocking out the thin sliver of sun that was snaking through the window.

So hot. You could feel it loop through your heart and back outwards. Upwards into your brain, to the tips of your fingers, your toes. Your body shuddered slightly, and you heard faintly a soft wet sound as something burst from between your shoulders. It didn’t hurt.

By now, you were so far away. Barely there when his fangs were finally removed, feeling a wetness as he licked the wounds closed. Or did they close by themselves? And if so, how?

So many questions. So sleepy. The last thing you remember was looking at him, the beast. But Vash also; the soft, tender man you loved oh so much. His eyes the most perfect summer blue and filled with so much concern.

So much love.

You'd have cried if you had any strength left in your body.

 He was looking at you and saying very softly under his breath, thinking you couldn’t hear, “She’s like me. Oh, god, she’s like me …” His warm hand cupping your cheek.

And you drifted away.

[vivalas-vega]

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part two

another painful chapter. I’m very very sorry... kinda :/ 

as always pls lmk what you think and if you want to be added to the tag list!!!

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ sersesin x reader / part two

add yourself to my taglist

prologue - part one

word count: 4.2k

warnings: language, drinking, mentions of surgery, medical inaccuracies (all of my medical knowledge comes from grey’s anatomy) angst :(

Semesters came and went, Christmases and Thanksgivings, late night parties and commendation ceremonies. Time was moving quicker than you maybe wanted it to, suddenly you blinked and undergrad was over… you blinked again and you were flying through medical school. That boy from molecular biology turned into your boyfriend and Matt was fine… he really was, you couldn’t find anything wrong with him no matter how hard you tried. Sure, he was a little self-centered but as you had found out there was only one man who wasn’t intimidated by your drive, there was only one man who celebrated you when you were off to medical school before anyone else, and there was only one man whose opinion you actually gave a damn about… which is why standing there in your apartment holding a letter accepting you into Massachusetts General’s residency program there was only one person you wanted to talk to.

“Hey, J, what’s up?” Jake answered as you propped your phone against your water bottle on your kitchen counter… you didn’t say anything, you only stood staring at the paper in your hands as he watched you through the screen, “what is that?”

“Jake…” you started, emotions clouding your voice and your hands shaking.

“No way,” he said and you heard clattering on his end, him telling people to shut up. “Tell me that’s what I think it is.”

“Mass Gen, Jake. I’m going to be a resident at Mass Gen,” you said, giggling as you held the paper up for him to see and he cheered on the other end, his smile illuminating your whole phone screen. “I’m moving to Boston.”

“You’re moving to Boston! What did Matt say?” he asked and you set the paper aside as you slid into a bar stool.

“Haven’t told him,” you replied and Jake gave you a look.

“You told me first?” He ran a hand through his hair, “well, I’m flattered but I’m not the first person you should have told.”

“He’s in class… and he’s going to tell me not to take it,” you sighed.

“Why on earth would he do that?”

“Because it’s the hardest residency program there is, it’s going to bruise his little baby ego,” you said with a laugh and Jake just shook his head. “I’m breaking up with him… there’s no point anymore.”

“You sure that’s what you want?” he asked, though he was certain it was what he wanted… he didn’t like Matt, never did. Where you cut him slack for his insecurities, Jake didn’t. Sly comments under his breath at your undergrad graduation and eye rolls when Jake came to town went overlooked by you, but not by Jake and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been hoping and praying for your relationship’s demise… not because he wanted your relationship to fail, not at all, but if you were going to be with anyone other than him than they needed to be great. Supportive, encouraging, secure enough in themselves to not get butthurt at your every accomplishment and Matt just wasn’t those things. He wasn’t good enough for you and everyone knew it. And so you broke up with Matt, packed up your shared apartment and met Jake in Boston who took a short leave to help you get settled into your new place. 

“Hell of a view, Jupiter,” he said, standing in front of your bedroom window that directly overlooked the hospital.

You beamed, “I know,” but when you met his eyes you realized he was joking and your face fell, “oh. Well, this is my dream view. The next year of my life is going to be hell but at least being a minute away from the hospital means I’ll always be the first to answer a page which hopefully means cool surgeries.”

“You’re such a weirdo,” he chuckled, crossing the empty room to wrap you in a hug, “but you’re my weirdo and I’m so proud of you.” This was all you had ever wanted and Jake thought back to the day the two of you made the hardest decision to enter the next phases of your lives unattached, the way you’d scolded him for not assuming you’d end up here in Boston. He knew you would, you were a lot of things and true to your word was one of them… if you said you were going to do something, well that was that. 

And it was hell, your intern year all but chewed you up and spit you out. You spent countless hours running around the hospital trying to keep up with all of the residents and attendings, anticipating their moves and trying to impress them and stay on their good side… which was nearly impossible because interns were the rats of the hospital. And that was okay with you, you were learning so much it felt like your brain was simply going to explode with all the new information being crammed in on a daily basis. It didn’t matter if the attendings were annoyed with you, despite what they said or how they treated you, you were the favorite. Nobody knew the surgical floor like you did, not even the nurses and that meant you logged more OR hours than any other intern. 

“I literally don’t understand how you do it,” Holly said from beside you at the bar, “the attendings love you, did I tell you Dr. Adams kicked me out of his OR today because I wasn’t you?” 

You chuckled, “yeah, I got that page.” 

“And he got mad at me because you didn’t show up.” she grumbled.

“I had another surgery!” you protested and she shot you a glare.

“Again, I literally don’t understand how you do it.”

“Look, it’s not your fault… this is what, the first time I’ve been at the bar in weeks? You guys are here after every shift, sleeping around, making first-day mistakes a year in… oh wait, it is your fault,” you smirked, sipping your beer and she just softly hit your shoulder. “You gotta buck up, you can’t just stand around meekly after rounds waiting to get assigned to a case. That surgery I was in today? Removing a tumor we honestly had no business removing from someone’s brain, and I sure as hell didn’t get it twiddling my thumbs waiting for Dr. Harris to pick me.”

“What the fuck,” she sighed. “All I was doing with Adams was an appy.”

“You were assisting on an appy?” you asked and she nodded, “this is what I mean, Hol, I’ve done appys, that’s probably why Adams wanted me so he could fuck around and read the paper. You heard what the chief said on our first day. Don’t be the intern that washes out, it’s bad for my brand,” you teased. Your phone started ringing in your pocket and you pulled it out to see an incoming facetime from Jake and you propped him up on the bar as you answered.

“Jupiter! Are you in a bar?” he asked and you nodded, “same!” he said, twisting his phone around to show you some of his pilot friends and you chuckled.

“What are you doing calling me when you’re out and about?”

“Coyote missed you,” he said, panning the camera towards him and you beamed.

“I miss you too, Coyote, Jake lies to me so how was the mission?” 

“All good, nothing to report,” he said and you narrowed your eyes.

“Yeah, you lie too, that’s exactly what he told me. Give me back to Jake.”

“Right here, angel,” he said and you flushed.

“Guess what I scrubbed in on today?” 

“Hmm… something really cool that’s going to make me nauseous?” he replied and you chuckled.

“A massive brain tumor, Jake!” Holly exclaimed from beside you, “fucking brain tumor, I hate you,” she grumbled, getting up and joining everyone else at the dartboard while you just laughed. 

“She’s cranky, all she did today was assist on an appy,” you explained.

“How big was it?” he asked and you held your hand up to gesture about the size of a golf ball. “Disgusting,” he muttered.

“God, it was huge, you don’t think of something that big being able to exist in someone’s brain! And it was smart, Jake, like truly brilliant. It was a pain in the ass to remove, I honestly thought it was a hopeless case, thought at the very least we were going to leave her blind or mute or paralyzed but we didn’t.” This is how your days usually went, you’d facetime Jake when you had a spare moment and traumatize him with the gory details of the latest surgery you’d seen, or catch him up on hospital drama while he told you all about the newest flight maneuvers he was learning or which person on his squad was the dud. You’d never forget the day he called while you were in the gallery, observing surgery and studying, and when you flipped the phone around to show him the exposed heart he grew pale and threw up into a trash can.

Coyote told you that you needed to call more, said Jake (or Hangman as he called him) was in a much better mood when you did and you promised you would but… it was hard, your schedules never aligned. You were always in surgery, or prepping for surgery, or studying for the intern exam, or passed out in an on-call room somewhere and he was usually halfway around the globe in a cockpit, or on some base across the country training. These moments were rare, the moments where one of you called and it didn’t go unanswered, every time you saw him on your tiny screen you felt like Jake looked different, and he felt the same. Stress had worn you both down, your careers had hardened you and it showed.

Life only got harder after your intern year, you had your own interns to babysit and more responsibilities and Jake was quickly becoming the best pilot in the Navy which meant more deployments and longer deployments. Each year passed with new patients and new places for Jake to ship out to. Your parents had come to visit you for Thanksgiving and you’d ended up sneaking them into the gallery to watch you assist in removing a turkey carver that was lodged in someone’s arm… Christmas was a no-go with the amount of fall injuries and ornaments in places ornaments shouldn’t be and it was the same for Jake. He’d tried time and time again to come see you, he’d promised you the gallery facetime was a one-off, he just hadn’t been prepared to see a heart like that, he wanted you to sneak him in so he could see his best friend in action but it just never worked out. A deployment always came up, and you were always so busy you rarely responded to the text until a full forty-eight hours later.

“What do we got?” you asked as you entered the trauma bay, taking the chart from a nurse and reading it over.

“25 year old GSW to the chest, immediate return of 860 cc’s of blood, losing more by the second.” 

“Chest films?” you asked, taking the scans and holding them up to the light, “damn it,” you motioned one of your interns over, “what do you see?” you asked.

“It’s pressing against his heart,” they answered and you nodded. The on-call trauma surgeon entered the bay and you gave him a verbal assessment of the patient and he nodded as he handed the films back. 

“Run point, page me if you need me,” he said as he moved to leave.

“Wait, sir- run point? I’ve never run a trauma-”

“In three hours you won’t be able to say that anymore,” he answered, “you’ve got this, Jupiter. Page if you need anything,” he replied as he left the room. 

You looked to the nurse beside you, “did that just…?” she nodded. “Okay, uh… we’ve gotta move. Call up to OR four, tell them we’re coming and to load up on O-neg, page cardio, have them meet us there. Let’s move people, and carefully, that bullet is one jostle away from tearing his heart apart.” you ordered as your intern looked at you with wide eyes.

“There are no cardio surgeons on call, Williams is in surgery for the next few hours,” he said and you looked at him expectantly.

“Okay, so what are you going to do?” you asked, gesturing for the team to take him to the OR and prep him, and the intern looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights as he looked side to side over the ER as if he was looking for a lifeline. “Dr. Samuels, I am asking you what are you going to do for your patient?” you asked again.

“I don’t uh- can we wait? We can-” 

“Can we wait? There is a bullet lodged in that man's chest and you want to wait for Dr. Williams?” you raised your voice now, looking at him incredulously. You sighed when he realized he wasn’t going to get it, “get Dr. Kerr on the phone now. Give him the patient history and tell him we need cardio, I will page trauma and we’ll get him opened up. He needs to hit the ground running when he gets here.” you said and he nodded as he stood there. “What part of now do you not understand? Go!” you said, sighing forcefully as he scurried away and you ran a hand over your forehead as you felt a hand tug on your elbow and you turned to meet those green eyes you loved so much. 

“Hey, rockstar,” he said with a bright smile and your eyes widened as you wrapped your arms around him, careful not to let your gloves touch him, and you pulled them away and discarded them as he let you go.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, motioning for him to move with you as you headed for the elevators. 

“Finished my mission, got some last minute leave and thought I’d come see you. You are a hardass, Jupiter,” he chuckled.

“You saw that?” you asked sheepishly as you hit the buttons for the OR floor and the gallery floor. “I want nothing more than to leave with you right now but, I…” you trailed off and he just nodded.

“You’re saving lives, I knew you’d be busy, I just wanted you to know I was here.” he said and you smiled up at him as the doors opened.

“Okay, uh… I can’t go with you, I need to be scrubbed like twenty minutes ago, follow this hallway, find the gallery for OR four, if anyone asks you’re a med student from Baylor.” you directed, kissing his cheek as you pushed him out of the elevator and frantically pressed the close button. You bounced from foot to foot as you scrubbed, truly only thinking about the moment you could leave this hospital and finally spend some time with Jake.

“Dr. Jupiter, good call on paging Dr. Kerr, knew you could handle running point, he’ll be here shortly,” the trauma surgeon said as you entered the OR and smiled beneath your mask at the scrub nurse who held out gloves for you.

“You do know that’s not actually my name, right sir?” you asked, stepping up to the patient.

“It’s got a good ring to it…” he said with a chuckle and really you didn’t mind… truthfully you didn’t care what people called you as long as it had doctor in front of it. The surgery was seamless, well about as seamless as removing a bullet from someone's chest could be, and when Dr. Kerr scrubbed in he even let you pull it out.

“Have you given any thought to a specialty?” he asked as he instructed you to close the patient. 

“Yes sir, I’m starting my applications for trauma fellowships,” you answered and he nodded.

“Good. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to steal you as my cardio fellow when the time comes, you’re great with hearts but you’ve got a knack for handling stressful situations. We can teach you how to throw a whip stitch and remove tumors but we can’t teach you how to stay calm.” 

“Thank you, sir.” you replied as you smiled under your mask.

“I’ll monitor the patient post op, you go ahead and get out of here,” he said and you started to shake your head.

“That’s okay, Dr. Kerr… you weren’t even on call, I don’t mind.” 

“Go get that boy from the gallery and enjoy your night… there will be plenty of time to make up for it when you’re my age.” he replied.

“Sir, I- I’m sorry-” you started but he just chuckled.

“Your secret is safe with me… snuck my wife in several times during residency. Now go,” he repeated and you nodded as you stepped back and began removing your gown and gloves. 

You motioned up to Jake as you exited the room and met him on the gallery floor where he all but tackled you in a hug, “holy shit, Jupiter, that was insane.” he said and you giggled as he lifted you from the floor. When he set you down you tugged his arm to follow you as you made your way to the residents lounge to change out of your scrubs and grab your belongings, answering every one of his excited questions about the surgery as you went.

“So, what would you have done if the bullet actually punctured his heart?” he asked and you chuckled as your friends all looked at you questioningly.

“Well, in that case we would have relied on the films to tell us how far it had gone and what exactly was compromised but other than that we would just have to figure it out as we go… GSW’s are all unique and there’s no real way to prepare for them, you just gotta deal with what comes up.”

“Is this one of the med students from Baylor?” Jordan asked, another third-year like you.

You shook your head with a laugh, “no, this is Jake, my best friend.” you introduced and Jake extended his hand.

“The infamous Jake, I guess you’re who we have to thank for everyone calling this one Dr. Jupiter,” he said and Jake looked at you, chest swelling with pride.

“Do they really call you that?”

“They sure do, I meant it when I told you that nickname really stuck.” 

“We’re all headed out for a drink, do you guys want to join?” Jordan asked and you shook your head.

“Maybe tomorrow night, if you’ll be here?” you asked, smiling when Jake nodded. “No offense but I spent eighty hours a week with you and I haven’t seen this one outside of a screen in too long.” You felt like you had floated the entire way home, laughing with Jake like it was old times except it wasn’t… he had just watched you in surgery and surprised you with a visit on his first time stateside in months. He’d kissed your cheek before you jumped in the shower and ordered pizza the same way he always did back home, but when you got out he’d shown you photos of his F/18 and a video he took from the air. Looking at him now he was all grown up, his muscles had filled out and there was an edge to him he never had before… and as he looked at you he thought the same thing. You’d grown into yourself, and he could tell just by looking at you that you’ve seen a lot in your short time as a resident. You’d gone on a giggly late night beer run but instead of sneaking into his parents garage you were walking the streets of Boston and pointing out all of the sights as you went, taking him the long way instead of to the convenience store just down the block.

“So, I’m starting to apply for fellowships for next year,” you said as you sipped your beer next to him on the couch. 

“Anywhere cool?” he asked and you nodded.

“Baylor is an option, they’ve got an amazing facility but I don’t know how I feel about going back to Texas,” you chuckled, “right now San Diego is at the top of my list.” 

He smiled softly, “we keep just missing each other,” he said and you cocked your head in confusion. “When I leave here in a few days I’m headed back to Top Gun.”

“Top Gun? What, did they realize you failed the first time?” you teased and he shook his head.

“Something about a top secret mission, I don’t know anything yet but it’s probably pretty serious if they’re sending me back there for new training,” he said and you nodded in understanding.

“You know… I’m really good at college applications, it’s not too late to be a doctor in a safe hospital, I promise it’s just as exhilarating as flying a plane.” you tried and he laughed at your effort.

“Sweetheart, don’t get me wrong… I loved watching you in action today but I was so close to throwing up several times, I mean his heart was just… out there in the open, and you were touching it with your bare hands.”

“I was gloved,” you interjected.

“Same difference,” he replied, “besides, you can’t speak to the exhilaration of flying a plane until you’ve done it.”

“That’ll be the day,” you laughed, finishing your beer and setting it on the coffee table. “No more work stuff… how are things on the personal front?” you asked, but it was clear what you were really asking.

“That was subtle,” he chuckled and you just shrugged. “Dating isn’t exactly easy with what I do… no one sticks around past their first deployment… and I get it, it’s a lot to ask of someone,” he said and you nodded. 

“Hangman, the notorious ladies man,” you said and he narrowed his eyes at you.

“You’ve been talking to Coyote,” he accused and you laughed.

“Worried I’m going to steal your second best friend?”

“Incredibly worried, if it’s a competition I’m sure as hell not winning,” he said and you laughed again.

“From what I hear Hangman would never admit to being incapable of winning something…” he just shook his head at you.

“You know, I kinda like hearing you use my callsign…”

“Is that so?” he nodded, “well don’t get used to it, I think it’s silly… and I can’t wrap my head around it, you leaving people hanging? Just seems so unlike you.”

“It’s a different world,” he shrugged, but you knew there was more to it he wasn’t sharing. You weren’t going to press.

“Is Jupiter like, my callsign?” you asked and he nodded again. “Look at me, like a cool pilot with a callsign.” you picked up your phone as it dinged on the coffee table and squealed in delight, “guess who got their shift covered tomorrow?” 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he sighed and you shook your head.

“I see you, what, twice a year? Maybe three times if we’re lucky? There are a lot of people who owe me for covered shifts and I’m just cashing in. Besides, what would you have done? Wander around Boston all sad and lonely, or even worse wander around the hospital all sad and lonely?”

“Why in both scenarios am I sad and lonely?” 

You ignored the question, “come on, off to bed. You need your beauty rest for all the fun we’re going to get up to tomorrow.” you said, standing and tugging him from the couch. As you melted into him beneath the covers you felt your heart ache… you missed this. The two of you hadn’t been intimate together since that hotel room in Annapolis, you’d decided it would be for the best if you didn’t after a breakdown on your part at the airport and it was the right call. It made each departure just the slightest bit easier but you missed him in every sense. You missed the way his arms wrapped around you, encasing you in warmth and safety, and you missed the way his breath fanned over your face.

“Do you ever wish we weren’t so ambitious?” he asked and you opened your eyes to look up at him.

“All the time.” 

“Life’s easier when you’re not… I look at my sisters and I wonder how they’re content to live the life they do but I realized it’s not about the job or the success for them, they built families and that’s why they’re happy.” 

“I don’t think we would be though.” you replied, and as much as it hurt you to admit, you truly believed that.

“No?” 

You shook your head before laying back down on his chest, “no. I’ve thought about it, quite a lot actually… one of us following a less demanding career path, and in every scenario the one who did ends up resenting the one who didn’t.” 

“You’re probably right,” he mused. “Do you think we’ll ever get our moment again?”

You sighed softly, “I don’t know… I hope we do.”

“Me too, sweetheart… me too.”

previous part / next part

taglist: @mamaskillerqueen​ @clancycucumber230​ @the-romanian-is-bae​ @dempy​ @alldaysdreamers @zzsloth @emma8895eb​ @novagreen04 @classyunknownlover​

[kywaslost]

Would it be okay to ask for some rare brotherly love from Kacchan? ^^

A bad grade or something? We always compare ourselves so much to him as we look up to him alot? ^^

Brotherly Love - Bakugou Katsuki

A/N: Bro I’ve tried writing this sooo many times and every time I get a lot written I decided I hated it and had to restart :/ I hope this turned out alright in the end. Sorry it took so long, I was really struggling mentally and had to be gone for a while, but now I’m back and better than ever!

You and Katsuki had a lot of similarities. You were twins, so of course you both had blonde hair and red eyes. You both were very physically fit and intelligent. But there were also several differences between you and him. Everything seemed to come naturally to Katsuki. He could sit through a lecture and briefly skim through a chapter of the textbook and be just fine for the exam. He’d be one of the first ones to turn in a test and he very rarely had to look back through his exams before turning them in.

You, on the other hand, did not grasp concepts as easily as your brother. You had to take incredibly detailed notes, read through the chapter slowly and repeatedly, and sometimes you had to do excessive amounts of research or worksheets to understand something. You get stressed easier than your twin, and you handle your stress very differently than him. Katsuki would work through it, and try to get that stress out of his life as soon as possible. You would sit in your stress, and let it eat away at you as you shut down mentally and physically. You let it get the best of you, and you hated it.

You had an Anatomy exam coming up and it was going to be the hardest test you’d ever take. It was a lab practical over the nervous system, and you were terrified. This chapter was long and intense, throwing a lot of information at you. You had been working extremely hard this chapter, and you spent every night for a week before the exam staying up late to study. The night before the exam, you were up until 2 in the morning going over notes, reading the textbook, and coloring diagrams and images to help you study.

You were in high-stress mode when you arrived at class, ready to take the exam. You had heard from the other anatomy class that the practical was extremely difficult, but you were sure you’d be alright. Grabbing a clip board and your test, you decided to start on question 1, looking at a brain dissection and identifying labeled parts of the brain.

You skipped around questions, and the more you tried to answer, the more nervous you grew. Everything you had studied the night before left your brain. You stared down at the paper in front of you. Identify the cranial nerves numbered in the image below. Cranial nerves. You specifically remember coloring this page, studying it heavily before you turned in for the night. Now all of that information has left you.

You began to sweat nervously and your breathing picked up as you looked around the classroom. Your classmates didn’t look nearly as lost and confused as you did. It wasn’t looking good for you at this moment.

Through your slight panic, you heard an alarm buzzing from the back of the room from someone’s backpack. Then again, this time from someone else’s phone. In a matter of seconds, everyone’s alarms were going off, signaling a tornado warning. Everyone looked around, confused.

“What do we do?” Izuku asked. “The school hasn’t made an announcement.”

Your teacher responded with, “Keep taking the exam. I’ll call the front office.” As they turned to pick up the phone, the PA system turned on and Nezu made the announcement for everyone to evacuate to the assigned storm shelter.

You were shaking with fear. Class was almost over and you only had half of your lab practical finished. You were blanking on the answers, and now there was a loud buzzing sound everywhere. Students’ voices picked up and everyone began to crowd out into the hall. It was getting harder to breathe as you set your test down on the nearest desk, running quickly to the back of the lab to grab your phone, then follow your classmates down the hall. Bakugou was nearby, and he pushed people out of his way so he could be next to you.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you.

You shook your head, releasing a strained whine. Katsuki’s hand grabbed a hold of your own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Alright. That’s ok. We’re almost done.”

Everyone took shelter in one of the many gyms on UA’s campus. This did not help you. There were students and staff everywhere, touching or bumping into you. Their voices echoed on the walls, and the lights were becoming a bit too bright. Tears poured down your reddened face, and your chest felt so tight.

Bakugou led you over to the rest of your class, guiding you to sit down slowly. “You’re alright n/n.” Your brother sat down beside you, never letting go of your hand. You brought your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly.

“Are you alright Y/N?” Kirishima asked worriedly as he kneeled down next to you. Several of your classmates did the same, crowding around you to see if you were alright.

“Back off,” Bakugou said sternly. “Get off of them. Give them space.” He kept his voice low for your sake, but the group of people around you backed off and gave you soft looks.

You were crying harder than you had in a long time. This was too much for you. You needed to get out of this room, out of this school, and back to your dorm. Bakugou could notice how miserable you were, and he tried his best to keep you calm. And then you were dismissed to return to your classes.

“We missed over half of class,” Kirishima commented. “What about our exam?”

“I’m giving you 20 minutes to finish the exam,” your teacher said. “Now hurry back to class. I have to leave, but Eraserhead is going to cover for me.”

You did nothing for those 20 minutes. You were a crying, panicking mess. Bakugou tried to help, but you only pushed him away and shakily told him to finish his exam. Picking up the clipboard with your answers, you felt even worse. Still only half of it was filled out. You attempted to guess on some of the answers, but eventually you gave up and turned in the test.

“Is this supposed to be half blank?” Aizawa asked with a raised eyebrow as you handed him the exam.

You almost burst into tears again. Not saying anything, you grabbed your belongings and headed to your last class.

You weren’t sure how you made it back to your dorm room. All you can remember was your anxiety growing more and more throughout your last class. You were one of the first students out the door when the final bell rang, sprinting through the halls and out the door to UA.

You locked yourself in your room, throwing your things into a pile on the floor as you crumpled down beside them. You pulled your knees to your chest as you screamed at the top of your lungs. All of the mental pain and worry you had been feeling the past two hours came pouring out of you. You couldn’t control it, and you didn’t even attempt to.

Then there was a knock on the door. “Y/N, I’m coming in.”

You didn’t try to stop whoever was at the door. You continued to cry, caught in your panic, as a hand gently ran across your back.

“Come ‘ere.” The voice was gentle but it still was a bit gruff. It was Katsuki. “I’m here now. I’ve got ya.” Your brother gently picked you up and pulled you into a tight hug. He guided your head to rest in the crook of his neck as he held you. “Breathe with me, n/n.”

It took a few minutes, but Katsuki was able to help you calm down and breathe slower. “That's it.” He stood up with you still in his arms. He walked over to your bed, pulled back the covers, and layed down with you. This was so out of character for Katsuki. Whenever you were panicking or stressing out, he’d give you space. But now he is staying by your side.

“The teacher said they’re offering retakes tomorrow,” he whispered quietly. “After you take a nap, I’ll help you study. You’ll be just fine.” He gave you a small smack on the side of the head. “We’ll work through the mess going on in your head some other time.” Katsuki offered a small smile. “Now sleep. We’re studying later.”

[she-karev]

A Day in Hell (Amber Karev Angst)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Six of Six

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Canon Episode: Season 17 Episode 2

AN: I wanted to do a story to showcase the hardships health care workers faced when covid hit. The doctors and nurses put our health first during a worldwide crisis and we should be forever grateful for that even without a pandemic to prove what should always be known.

Summary: Amber gets ready for the day the morning after Ian’s death.

Words: 738

Chapter Links Here: 1,2,3,4,5,6

April 1st, 2020

Amber stands in her bedroom putting her scrubs on getting ready for her next shift. She puts her dark brown hair up in a ponytail trying to keep her head held high after yesterday. Ian’s death is still fresh as she barely slept last night instead looking at the dog tags he left her that were his daughters.

Once she ties her shoes on, Amber looks at the dog tags on her bedside table with thought. While it felt wrong when Ian gave those to her at first, she knows he did it to give her comfort, to entrust her to carry his legacy with her. Amber notes that in the room last night was a father without a daughter and a daughter without a father. It was a cruel irony of sorts but not one Amber will take lightly.

She picks up the tags that are lined with black rubber and sees the engraving. TALBERT, OLIVIA. 947-22-0745. B POS. CHRISTIAN. She runs her fingers over the text wondering if the rightful owner would want her to have it like her father did. Amber inhales before deciding such questions should be left for a priest.

The young resident puts the chain over her neck and adjusts the tags over her scrubs so the information could be hidden. Satisfied with the results she exits her bedroom and goes downstairs to find Jackson in his kitchen making a protein shake. He looks up at Amber with a somber look.

“Hey kid, how are you holding up?”

“I’m managing, what about you?”

Jackson sighs, “That kid last night…he was just a kid, he was 18 but he was someone’s kid and now he’s not. And I think this probably wouldn’t be happening if that kid and his friends didn’t have the end of their senior year stalled by a virus. I’m feeling pretty crappy if you ask me.”

“I get that.” Amber plays with the tags around her neck which Jackson notices.

“Where did you get that?”

“Ian Talbert gave it to me before he died, it was his daughters who died in Afghanistan.” Jackson looks saddened by that as a father who also lost his child, “He didn’t have anyone to give it to but still I don’t know why he gave this to a complete stranger who couldn’t keep him alive.”

“Maybe that’s why he gave it to you.” Amber looks up confused and Jackson explains, “You’re trying your hardest to save every stranger you can, not giving a damn what happens to you when you put your own life at risk. It’s exactly what his daughter did when she enlisted, and he saw that in you.”

Amber’s face softens at that theory, “Maybe he wanted his daughter’s last possession to be in the hands of another soldier. And I think he saw that in you last night when you refused to leave his bedside.” Amber sighs at that holding the tags as a lifeline, “You couldn’t save him but that doesn’t mean you can’t stop fighting this damn thing in his name, in his daughter’s name. All we can do right now is fight until we can’t and then get back up and fight again. It’s part of the job Dr. Karev.”

Amber nods and inhales before looking back at Jackson with some light back in her eyes, “Okay Dr. Avery. I’ll keep fighting.”

“It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.” Amber grins flattered by her friend’s sentiment as he pours his protein smoothie into a cup, “I have the day off today, I’ll be here when you get home. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Amber grabs her mask and puts it on before walking down the hall to the elevator that opens. Once again Amber is face to face with the Karen from yesterday who has her mask in her hands and the same condescending grin targeted at the young doctor who has her fighting spirit awakened for the new day.

Karen speaks still in the elevator, “Could you please-”

Amber interrupts her with venom in her tone, “Wear your fucking mask lady we’re in the middle of a pandemic.”

She ignores the Karen’s shocked face and enters the elevator clearly making the blonde woman uncomfortable. Still, she was intimidated by the doctor’s presence and puts her mask on while Amber presses a button. She stays silent as does the lady and the elevator doors close.

[conellu]

Hands (Like Secrets) Are The Hardest Thing To Keep From You (Request)

Mikan Tsumiki/Transwoman!Reader (established relationship; reader has AMAB anatomy)

Also posted here

Requests are open (can request via message here or on my AO3 here)

Title from: Dismantle. Repair. by Anberlin

Will probably do a part two where reader helps out Mikan with a check up.

Her legs settle between yours easily, her hand moving to hold your waist softly.  God, she looked like an angel from this angle, her hair cascading down around her and curling on the bed around you.  The scent of her lavender shampoo still lingered in the hair as the smell of sunscreen was still embedded in the blanket from the day before- all the was needed to make it more evident it was your girlfriend was the smell of hospital cleaning supplies (though, to be honest, you were relieved that scent wasn’t invading your nose as you had a check up earlier that week and it wasn’t the most sexy thing to be reminded of.)

Warnings: Reader has AMAB anatomy (as requested). Nurse outfits (both reader and Mikan) , nurse roleplay. Facial.  I am not typing out her stutter, just add that in yourself when you feel it fits lol.  Mikan is probably leaning towards ooc.

Your eyes remained glued on your girlfriend, Mikan, her face was quickly getting redder and redder as she struggled to start out the roleplay that she requested to try out.  It was honestly endearing- the idea that she came up with was enough to make you flush a vibrant red but now that it’s time to try it out, it seemed like Mikan was at a complete loss for words.  You both wore matching nurses outfits, nothing that was overtly sexual or revealing, just a simple, typical nurse outfit you both dyed together to be black.  You could already feel yourself twitch in utter excitement, your hands gripped your uniform so tightly you could nearly feel your fingernails through it on your palms.  It was almost embarrassing how easy she could get you to this point, but at least now it was expected.

Mikan’s shoulder raised and lowered with a steady breath as she finally walked over to you, her hand resting on one of your thighs while the other one shakily held your shoulder.  She didn’t have the confidence to shove you back on the bed so you laid back, with a small (but still exaggerated) oof.  Her legs settle between yours easily, her hand moving to hold your waist softly.  God, she looked like an angel from this angle, her hair cascading down around her and curling on the bed around you.  The scent of her lavender shampoo still lingered in the hair as the smell of sunscreen was still embedded in the blanket from the day before- all the was needed to make it more evident it was your girlfriend was the smell of hospital cleaning supplies (though, to be honest, you were relieved that scent wasn’t invading your nose as you had a check up earlier that week and it wasn’t the most sexy thing to be reminded of.)

“It’s time to give you a medical exam.” She said, voice as always, was so soft and warm as it traveled through the electric air.  It never sounded confident when she spoke, but there’s enough self assurance in it that you could tell she was trying really hard to sound like she had as much confidence as Akane always did.  Her eyes tried to keep full contact with yours, but it moved away every so often as you continued to stare absolutely awestruck up at her.  You couldn’t even find the words for a moment, your hands slowly moving to hold her waist, the fabric of the nurse’s outfit crunchy slightly under your touch.

“Where are you going to start, nurse?” Your voice came out, making up for her lack of confidence with yours dripping with complete desire and adoration.  Her hand on your shoulder slowly, unsure, trailed to your neck and then rests against your face.  Her finger trailed along your bottom lip, her eyes staring at the movement with a focus you’ve only seen her execute while giving you check ups.  Instinctively, your mouth opened and swirled your tongue around it with fervor.  It didn’t take a long time for the digit to be covered with your saliva.  Her eyes widen to a near comical degree and her mouth opens to let out a soft oh, you could practically feel the heat radiating from her face almost immediately.  It wasn’t the first, second, or even third time that you both have been in this position, but the excitement hit you both like it was the first time.  The hand she had resting on your waist moved to tug the hem of the uniform up, up, up, and over your cock that was quickly feeling far too hot for the fabric.  You whine at the cool air-conditioned air hitting the skin, teeth slightly biting down on her finger.  A quick smile graces Mikan’s face as her eyes travel back up to yours.

“Well, we need to make sure your prostate is okay, don’t we?” Her voice was almost too sweet and innocent as she leans down to kiss your neck, her fingers running over your cock so softly that it was almost impossible to tell if you were imagining it or not.

“Yes, please.” Your voice was already strained as she sits on her knees in front of you.  Mikan’s giggle flow through the room and fills it with a warmth that you always wanted to feel and wrap yourself in.  Her hand wraps around your cock gently, not tight enough to give you the stimulation you needed eagerly and you couldn’t tell if she was doing it on purpose or if she was just that unsure of herself still.  You feel the wet finger press against your hole and you whine again.

“Are you always this sensitive?” She asks, her voice just a little more confident than it was just moments before.  The pace she sets as she strokes your red hot dick is almost painfully slow, your hips raising and falling to give yourself even a little extra pleasure.  Her fingers presses in slowly, the saliva allowing it to breach with no issue.  Her eyes stay on your face as she moves her finger to find your sweet spot, her mouth slightly open with a grin.  Her pace still slow as her thumb glides over the slit in random intervals.

“Ye-” you can’t even finish your sentence before she finds your prostate.  Your back arcs and her mouth hangs open as your eyes roll back.  All you can do is nod, moving in rhythm with her as her pace on your cock quickens slightly, you feel her breath on it and then the warmth of her spit to lubricate your movements.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Her voice remains sweet and slightly unsure, as though she’s asking the question in earnest despite your obvious reaction.  She presses tiny kisses on your thighs, hair laying around her and God, how does she still look like an angel while she’s massaging your prostate and jerking you off.  Her smile is so soft and reassuring as your hands grip the blanket so tightly that it makes your hands ache, your hips moving so eagerly.  You can’t even form words, just whines and moans escape your mouth feverishly.

You can feel yourself clinch and flutter around her finger as she rubs you, her head rests against your thigh, eyes so loving as they look at you like you’re her angel.  One of your hands shakily lets go of the blanket and you rub your head, a gesture that’s so soft and gentle despite the desperation you feel.  “Close, Mikan.” You strangle out, breathless and trying to hold yourself back from covering yourself and her hand in your cum.  “Face, please-” You start again, a broken sentence that you know that she understands regardless.

She licks across your slit, collecting your pre-cum greedily as her eyes remain focused on yours in a way that only the ultimate nurse could.  Your hips press your tip past her lips, her tongue moving so precisely that you can’t hold back anymore and you groan out a warning before your feel yourself come completely undone.

She jumps back as your cum spills into your mouth, the following spurts coating her face and getting into her bangs.  You’d apologize later, maybe even make it up to her, but in the moment you can’t do anything but repeat her name like a holy prayer.  A small gasp and whine leaves your lips as she removes her finger once you’ve rode out your orgasm completely, not one to ever want to push you into overstimulation despite your calls for it once or twice.  She still looks so precious, face coated with your cum as some drips from her bangs.  You sit up shakily and give her a lazy smile, you tug out a wipe from the box she had prepared and wipe your release from her face gingerly.  

“Do you think it was okay, or do I need to be checked out again?” You ask teasingly, breathing starting to level out.

“I think that, maybe, you could check me out?  I have been feeling a little unwell.” She says, back to her usual cadence of being unsure of her own words.

[teenandbeyond]

Senku x Dom. Male reader

Was gonna choose another one, but this was too cute to pass up.

This wasn't easy to think up since Senku isn't really interested in romance (there's too much going on for him to think about it) and Senku kind of gives me a "Dom that knows anatomy too well and tortures you" vibe...I might do that next. Did this in one sitting, so if it's not my best, my bad, but hope it's still to your liking!

Part 2: https://teenandbeyond.tumblr.com/post/673018517439889408/hello-i-was-wondering-if-you-could-make-a-part-2

Part 3: https://teenandbeyond.tumblr.com/post/673406756228120576/part-3-senku-if-you-are-available-ofc-achlys

Anyway, here you go!

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🍋Take a Break🍋 (Dr. Stone)

Warnings: Lemon, Flustered Senku, Post-stone world, aged up Senku, long, a little inaccuracy, fluff

Senku's been working so hard and all you want him to do is relax, so you make it a science experiment.

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After all that's gone on, you have a moment to settle, but Senku chooses to keep working like always.

He's working the hardest out of everyone, building all these things, protecting people, his mind constantly running.

He needs a break.

Where is he?

You ask around until you get an answer that seems most like him.

Senku's in a quiet corner to himself working, muttering something you couldn't hear from the distance.

You almost didn't want to disturb, the sound from the others faded from this far, the only sound the quiet waves of the sea.

"[Name], how long are you going to stand there, you look like a stalker."

You smiled, walking over to him, "A cute stalker, right?"

He raised a brow, "That's your response? Sometimes you're questionable."

You crouched next to him, "What are you working on?"

You were a villager, but you understood science very well, whether from him or making educated guesses, you were also probably the most well-read villager, you read, wrote, and understood ahead of your time.

He gave you an explanation without filtering it like he would sometimes so the others could understand. He liked this about you, it made things more simple and you were a good Senku translator.

You rested your head on your closed palm, "Humanity came up with some amazing things...but are you going to be able to make it in this time span?"

"Yeah, but...I keep missing something, and I know it's got to be so obvious..." he sighed.

You smiled fondly, "You might just need a break, Senku--"

Senku ran a hand through his hair, "I can't! There's so much for me to still do, I have other lives depending on me to get the world back to the way it was, to lead them..."

"And you won't be able to do any of those things properly if you're burned out, you need to give yourself a break and relax a little."

"How would I even do that?"

You gave him an accusing glare, "When's the last time you let your brain breathe and not constantly work Senku? Sleeping doesn't count since I remember you told me our brains never fully sleep."

He just blinked, you thought he was confused by your question or had ignored you.

You spoke up again, "I--"

He held up a finger, "I know what you said, I'm thinking..."

You shook your head, "If you have to think that hard, it's probably been a while."

"...Over 3,716 years."

You paused to process this, "So what your saying is..." You looked into his eyes with worry, "Since around when you were four? After that, you've just been constantly thinking?"

He started tinkering with his experiment again, "Yeah, then I counted all throughout my petrification, when I was unpetrified, after I was revived, while we were in the village--you know that--and since then. Well, I mean, I guess, I'd play Doremon or other games sometimes, but yeah, mainly science and thinking."

Still, you couldn't imagine being trapped and counting the whole time, wake up, you have to figure out how to survive, then almost right off the bat you have to battle against an enemy who can murder without flinching--and kills you--only for you to come back alive. You have to survive, hope you can gather allies from people you don't know, almost die a few times, and go into a war. All before you're even a full adult.

"...All right, we're taking a break, Senku."

"[Name]. I just said-"

"Break. Now."

He obediently moved his hands away from his work.

"You can come back to it later when you can come back with a clear head," you smiled kindly.

But low-key, you were probably one of the scariest people Senku knew-- when you were upset anyway.

Immediately his eyes darted around while his hands twitched awkwardly.

"Do you need help relaxing?"

He gave you a lost puppy look.

You gestured for him to move closer with a finger.

He sat across from you stiffly.

You couldn't help but chuckle at how strangely adorable this was, "Damn, you really can't relax, can you?"

Before he could say anything, you gently pulled him to your chest, grip loose enough for him to escape if he wanted.

You rubbed gentle circles into his shoulder blade, his shoulders were stiff.

"You secretly like my hugs, don't you?"

He'd nestled into your chest a little, a little below your clavicle.

"..."

He did, whenever you hugged him, he felt safe, comforted, reassured, warm (even if he tried to play if off and push you away...in public anyway...). And when you pull away the world would always come crashing back down on him.

You laid back with a small grunt, Senku's body following.

One hand ran through his hair while the other lightly massaged at his shoulder.

Senku found himself sighing.

Another thing Senku liked about you, he could count on you for anything. It was nice when everyone counted on you, to have someone you could count on.

His fingers finally stopped twitching, eyes stopped darting, after a few minutes of this. The scientist moved his arms to a more comfortable position.

But there was something missing, don't get him wrong he was starting to relax for a minute, but...

Your fingers found a big knot around his trapezius and started to massage it.

He couldn't help but let out a deep groan.

You paused for a moment in surprise.

"Don't stop..."

After a sound like that...that statement sounded very suggestive.

With a warm face, you continued.

"[Name]? Why is your heart beating faster out of nowhere?"

"...Nothing, don't think anything of it."

He looked up at you in concern, "Your heartbeat speeding up randomly could mean there are possible heart issues--"

"I'm okay, I promise."

Only unless the heart issue is being in love with you, then yes, I have heart issues, Senku.

Senku sat up, sitting on your torso, "You can't just brush something like that aside..."

He placed his hand above your chest, you hissed when his thumb brushed against your nipple.

Then his concerned expression got worse.

Shit, now he probably thought something really was wrong.

Not really, just too many things happening at once making you aroused at the worst possible time. You forced yourself to breathe slowly to calm down.

"There's soreness around your chest area?"

"No--"

"Don't lie, I just saw your reaction."

Your face got pink, "It's not...that type of reaction..."

Senku got tense again, now you had to start over.

"We need to get you checked out, [Name]."

You got off you and forced you to your feet, although you towered over him, and dragged you into his room.

"Senku, babe, I promise I'm fine."

You were promptly ignored.

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"Senku..."

"And maybe here..."

"Senku."

"Oh, where did it go?"

"Senku. Stop."

He paused, glancing over at you.

"I'm fine...I was just flustered earlier..."

"Then what was that earlier when I touched your chest?"

Your face went red, "Ah, um, I'm just sensitive there..."

You weren't going to say that he'd accidentally brushed against your nipple, and sitting on you made it worse, that's awkward. You hadn't really gotten to that phase yet.

He looked around...for something to do. Damn, it, you got him back in 'need to do something' mode.

How could you make him relax again? The same tactic wouldn't work since he'd only be stiff.

That's when you got an idea.

"Senku...I've got an experiment."

His head shot over to you at the word.

"If I can make you completely relax and feel good...in...hm...30 minutes."

He snorted in disbelief.

"Come here, then."

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"Ngh~"

"You still--counting, Senku?"

He took a shaky breath, "T-ten minutes..."

Senku was currently undressed, leaning against the wall while you fingered him and ate him out (author learned what that was on accident today).

How was he supposed to count in these conditions? But that was the experiment, if you could do it and if he could manage to count the whole time. Win-win, he can do his science and relax at the same time.

How had it gotten to this? You had only really intended to make out, I mean, not that you were complaining.

You pulled away, making Senku whimper at the emptiness.

Yes, the Senku Ishigami whimpered.

He was past being embarrassed at the sounds he made after ten minutes.

You grabbed a bottle of something, "So, I spoke to Gen...Didn't figure it'd be this soon...but mentioned this...ah...lubricant to make this easier.

Senku rolled his eyes, of course, Gen would meddle.

You put some of it in your hand, "He told me about it, how it's supposed to be used, the consistency, in decent detail...So I started thinking...could I make some? And you see," you ran your full hand across your length, "I'm pretty damn smart Senku...at some point... I thought of corn starch and water, it works pretty well."

If he weren't really horny right now, he'd show that he was impressed.

He gasped as he felt you brush against his desperate hole, "Time?"

"Fif-fif-fifteen..."

"Mm. Alright, I can work with that."

"Ah~"

You slowly eased into him with a soft sigh, letting him adjust before slowly finding a rhythm.

Since this was the first time either of you had done this...(you just got a lot of advice from Gen since you were interested in it at some point...you were no longer pure...) you went slow, you wanted Senku to relax.

"Feel good?" You asked, biting your lip when he clenched a little.

"I'm--hah~ Ten Billion percent--sure I want to--do this again."

You were glad, you'd hoped you weren't too bad.

Gen had mentioned there was a spot that made things feel five times better...you'd remembered suddenly and decided to find it.

"Ah~!"

He bit his lip to mute the rest of what would've come out.

Is it there? You experimentally thrust there again. Senku cut off another loud moan. Yep, it's there.

You made sure to hit that same spot, "What--Fuck, Senku--What was that?"

Did you really expect him to answer a question while you were hitting that spot so deliciously? He knew you, you liked knowledge like him.

"My--mm~--prostate--sensitive--hah~"

He couldn't talk clearly, you noticed.

"Hey, Senku!" someone called from outside the door, you weren't paying enough attention to check who.

You paused.

Senku went red--well, redder than he already was and went to pull away.

You smirked and whispered in his ear, "Answer her, Senku."

You were still inside, though stationary.

"What is it?"

"[Name] was looking for you earlier, did you end up seeing him?"

You moved Senku so his back was against the wall, instinctually his legs wrapped around your waist.

You slid back in and started moving again.

You're an asshole, he decided.

"Answer. Her." you whispered, punctuating each word with a harder thrust.

"Y-Yeah, we--earlier--saw him earlier."

"Are you okay? Should I come in?"

"I'm fine! I'm fine, d-don't worry--H~"

You covered his mouth right before he let out a particularly loud moan.

"You-"

You spoke up for him, voice strangely smooth for someone who was fucking someone, "Yeah, he's fine--he's with me. I forced him to relax. So, uh, I'd appreciate it if he could do that, please."

"Yeah, sure thing. He needs it, I just wanted to make sure you found him."

You waited until their footsteps faded away to uncover his mouth, immediately a choked moan spilled out.

"You're irritating~"

You grinned, "Yeah, I know."

He tilted his head back against the wall as you got a little faster.

"Time, Senku?"

"Uh...Fuck, um, twenty--five."

After all this time you finally went faster, hitting that spot with speed and sharp precision.

The way you rolled your hips so smoothly into him.

You held Senku up with one hand, while your other decided to pleasure his member some more, then you teased one of his nipples with your mouth (you learned 22 minutes ago that his were sensitive too, not just yours).

He couldn't do it anymore, you quickly muted his erotic moan as he came with a kiss.

You slowly pulled out and started to finish yourself off, you were close.

Senku decided to help you, he moved your hands out of the way and replaced it with his mouth.

Damn.

It didn't take long, the sight of Senku disregarding how nasty that shit would taste, how unhygienic it probably was, and almost greedily going down on you, was too much to handle.

You groaned releasing it into his mouth.

After you settled, cleaned up a little, and started to get dressed, "You more relaxed now, Senku?"

He tied the rope around his waist, "Yeah, actually. I think I know what I forgot too."

"You gonna go finish your project?" you sat against the wall, yawning.

He shook his head, sitting in your lap, "No, I think I still need a break."

You both ended up taking a cat nap.

[change-the-world-someday]

I'll Be Here

Oh boy I'm back baby. Here's a Derek Shepherd x Teen!reader bc I just started Grey's Anatomy. I'm well aware I've had stuff in my inbox for over a year, and frankly I'll get round to them soon. I hope this tides you over.

Derek Shepherd x Teen!Reader

Summary: Who'd have thought the child of Derek Shepherd would suffer with something even he can't cure?

A/N: I've been twitching a lot lately so this was a comfort write. Derek and Meredith don't have a relationship, and there's a bit of canon divergence.

⚠️TW⚠️ Talk and descriptions of twitching/tics

—•—

You knew the moment you woke up you were going to have a bad day.

Your alarm went off at the bright and early nine and as you made a move to turn it off, your arm twitched, almost pushing it off your nightstand. You let out a sigh, leaning down and managing to shut it off and sit up.

Until you neck starts to snap left and right, tensing and relaxing each muscle.

“Fuck’s sake,” you mutter under your breath, standing and stretching, well, as much as you can before your twitches start up again. You makes your way downstairs, finding an empty kitchen and a note on the counter. You manage to pick it up and read it.

Sorry, I got called in today. Let me know when you’re up

— Dad

You shake your head, whistling and shaking your hands. Great, so you're alone on a day where your twitches are worse than normal. You sigh and head back upstairs, almost losing balance on the stairs, and takes a quick shower before trying to style your hair. With difficulty, you get changed before reaching over and grabbing your phone. You grip it tightly, until it’s flung across the room.

“Shit,” you mumble, reaching down and picking it up. You open your messages, trying to text your dad.

Y/N

Hi, up. Bad today

It’s short, and to the untrained eye, might seem pretty rude, but to you and your dad, is a warning. Heading back to the kitchen, you try to eat a bowl of cereal. Instead, you managed to spill the cereal twice, drop milk on the floor, and then poke yourself in the side of the face a few times with your spoon instead of eating.

Your phone buzzes.

Dad

Do you need me at

home?

Y/N

No. Just bad

Dad

Do you want to come

to the hospital? You

can stay in one of the

offices if you want

You think about it for a moment, though you don’t get too long before your phone starts ringing. You pick up.

“Hi—” you whistle “—hi Dad.”

You hear him sigh. “Hey kid. Do you want to come in today? I can make sure no one stops you and you can come straight to the office.”

You click, your neck jerking forward. “You sure? I’ve—“ you whistle “—never been there before. I don’t want—“ you click “—to become a case study.”

Your dad laughs lightly down the phone. “I won’t let them. Just make your way over, and keep your earphones in. Music helps.”

You nod, before your neck twitches to the side and cracks, making your dad wince audibly. “Okay. I’ll let you know—“ you whistle and sigh, clearly getting frustrated with yourself.

“I get it. Don’t work yourself up; it’ll only make it worse. See you soon. Love you.”

A ghost of a smile passes across your face. “Love you too, Dad.”

—•—

Derek hangs up and leaves the store cupboard, almost bumping into Dr Bailey as she marches past.

“Watch where you’re going, McDreamy,” she scolds and Derek smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Bailey narrows her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Y'N's coming here. They're having a bad day,” he replies and Bailey nods, immediately catching on. “No one else knows.”

Surprisingly enough, you haven’t met anyone from Derek’s work, except for Bailey and even then, that was an accident. You'd bumped into her on a bad day and Derek had to explain what was wrong. Ever since, Bailey’s had a soft spot for you.

“Not even the chief?” She asks and Derek shakes his head. “Did you warn them?” He nods. “Well, there’s not much else you can do.”

“They're texting me when they’re a few minutes away. If I get caught in surgery, can you meet them at the doors please?”

The two stop in the corridor, Bailey pulling him over. “I have my own schedule too, Shepherd.”

Derek nods. “I know, but you’re the only other person here they know, and you know how they can get in places they don’t know…”

Bailey looks around. “If you’re caught up, you owe me one.”

Derek smiles and nods, a look of relief on his face. “Thank you.”

—•—

You're walking down the street to the hospital, constantly readjusting your earphones so they don’t fall out. Your neck keeps snapping to the side and jerking forward, earning a few odd looks from strangers. You sigh, a few minutes away from the hospital, and pull out your phone. Before you can do anything, though, you promptly throw your phone on the pavement.

Thank god your dad bought you one of those industrial phone cases. You pick it up, dodging people as you go to call your dad. He picks up after two rings.

“Hi, I’m—“ you click “—a minute away.”

“Okay. I don’t think I’m going to be able to meet you at the doors. Just walk through, take the stairs to the fifth floor, and come down the hall. I’ll be in the break room, second door on the left.”

Your eyes widen; you're going to be by yourself? Walking through a hospital? Where no one knows you?

“O-Okay,” you stammer out and your dad sighs.

“I’m sorry kid. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

He hangs up and you take a breath, nodding to yourself. You pocket your phone and turn your music up as loud as it can be. Your dad was right, it does ease your twitching, though not as much as you'd like.

Fall Out Boy blasts through your earphones as you walk through the doors of Seattle Grace. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, your neck twitch making it a lot easier to achieve. You click as you make your way to the stairwell, making your way up.

You don’t hear the calls of concerns from the interns following you, trying to catch up to you.

By the time you reach the fifth floor, the two interns have gone to find Dr Bailey to try and assist them, and Dr Shepherd who can help with the disorder being presented. They haven’t had someone who needs medical attention blatantly ignore them and go to a certain department before.

You lose your balance a little as you walk through the doors to the fifth floor, your neck jerking left and right repeatedly, muscles tensing and relaxing. Your hands are shaking and you walk like a new fawn.

You reach the door and push it open, whistling and clicking as you do so. At least you can see your dad today.

—•—

Derek knows immediately what kind of day is happening when you steps into the room. You're a jerking mess, neck and shoulders tensing and relaxing as though given electric shocks. You're whistling, clicking, and your eyes have recently started screwing shut, temporarily blinding you.

And that’s with your headphones in.

“Hey Y/N,” he greets, gently taking one earbud out of your ear and leading you to the seats. At least if you're sat, you have less of a chance of hurting yourself.

“Hi Dad,” you reply until a whistle comes back out. “S-Sorry.”

“Hey,” Derek places a firm but kind hand on your shoulder, “don’t apologise. None of this is your fault.” There’s a silence between you two, only broken by the sound coming from the removed earphone. “Fall Out Boy? Nice choice.”

Your neck snaps but you give a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Do you want something to eat? Did you manage to get some breakfast?” You sigh, your hands twitching and trembling, which tells Derek everything he needs to know. “Is it a bomb-site there?”

You shake your head. “I managed—“ you whistle “—to clean up. Took ages.” Your neck jerks forward. Derek sighs, putting an arm around you and pulling you into his side. You've always been wary; you never want to hurt your dad accidentally but Derek doesn’t care. You're his kid, and nothing will change that.

“You’re okay. Do you want some lunch? We can go to the cafeteria—they’ve got some pizza in there that’s actually pretty good.”

You nod, knowing anything you try to say will be interrupted by one of your twitches. You walk alongside Derek, trying your hardest to suppress your twitching as you make your way through the hospital and into to lift, where a few others are going to different floors. Derek notices, and leans into your ear. “You don’t have to hide it here, kid. Promise.”

There’s an audible sigh of relief from you as you let out a scatter of twitches, your neck jerking forward as you whistle and click. Your hands shake and flap and you let it all go. A few of the doctors and nurses turn around to look at you, but one harsh glare from Dr Shepherd makes them all go back to minding their own business.

You exit the lift and walk through the corridors to the cafeteria. You join the queue and you feel Derek keep an arm around you, trying to help you ease your twitches. You're grateful, though you both know there isn’t much either of you can do to stop them. You sigh, putting your earphones back in and blasting some music, this time Hozier.

Derek watches you struggle, sympathy panging through his heart. He hates that you've been cursed with this, and the worst part is they can’t find anything that’s causing it. It’s not like there’s a tumour or growth on your brain Dr Shepherd can operate on, you're just stuck with it.

“Dr Shepherd, good afternoon. Who’s this?” Lindsey, the server behind the food counter, greets. Derek smiles.

“Afternoon Lindsey. This is my kid, Y/N. They're joining me at the hospital today,” he explains, gently tapping you on the shoulder and causing you to take an earphone out. “Y/N, this is Lindsey.”

“Hi,” you greet, before your neck jerks forward yet again, cracking. The two adults give a wince and Lindsey gives you a small smile.

“What would you like, hun?” She asks. You look over, or does so as best you can. You can barely stay still long enough to read the menu. “We have a standard pizza or pepperoni pizza today. We also have some ham, chicken, or cheese sandwiches and salads. Or a few pastries we can heat up if you’d prefer.”

You give her a grateful smile. “Can I—“ you whistle “—have pepperoni please? And a—“ you click “—bottle of water?”

“Sure thing, and you Dr Shepherd?”

You put your earphones back in, trying your hardest to stop twitching. The problem is, the more you try to stop it, the worse it gets. It takes a few minutes for you to get your food, and when you do, Derek carries both trays to a table and sets them down. He takes a seat opposite you, giving a small smile.

“Thanks Dad,” you thank, pulling one earphone out so you can hear the conversation. You pick up the plastic fork and spear a few chips, but before you can eat them, your hand twitches and you throw it on the floor. You sigh but before either you or your dad can make a move to pick it up, someone else does it for you.

“You better be more careful. I don’t want fries on my shoes.” You recognise that voice anywhere, and smile as you look up at Dr Bailey. You let out a small laugh.

“Hi Dr Bailey,” you greet, whistling as your head snaps to the side and back. She smiles at you.

“Heard you were coming and through I’d say hello.”

—•—

“Guys, shut up,” Cristina hisses. “Do you see?”

“See what?” George asks as they quieten down. She nods her head and the table of interns turn around to catch sight of what’s going on. Dr Bailey is talking Dr Shepherd… and you sat with them. You're not dressed in any kind of hospital gown, nor are you wearing scrubs, so who are you? And how are you making Dr Bailey smile?

Meredith watches, catching sigh of your hair, and her eyes widen. She reaches over, slapping George on the arm.

“What?” He asks.

“It’s them,” she replies, “the person from earlier. Y’know, the one who didn’t check in at reception and took the stairs. The one who ignored us!”

George’s eyes widen too, and the two get up and start to walk over, ignoring the protests of Cristina and Izzie as they reach the table. You're struggling to get a sentence out, whistling and clicking as you try to tell Dr Shepherd about something.

“Dr Shepherd!” Meredith calls out, making the conversation halt between you. “Are you with a patient?”

She misses how you cringe. Dr Shepherd frowns, which only deepens more at the crack in your neck as it jerks forward. “Dr Grey, Dr O’Malley, how can I help?”

“W-We saw, erm, this kid walk straight through and up to neurology without checking in. Do you want us to check them in and get a better examination? We were going to come to you for a consult when we saw them anyway, but since you already seem to know them…” George trails off and Dr Shepherd looks between you, the interns, and Dr Bailey.

An awkward silence falls between you, only disturbed by the occasional whistle or click from you. “I can get a wheelchair if it’s easier.”

“No need,” Dr Shepherd cuts in. “They aren’t a patient, their name’s Y/N. They're my kid and they're accompanying me to work today.” The two interns look at each other, mortified. “Now, if you excuse us, we were just having lunch.”

Your hand flexes again, making you throw your fork on the floor (the second one in the space of fifteen minutes) and sigh. You go to pick it up, only for George to beat you to it. “Here.”

“Than—“ you click as your head jerks forward “Thank you.”

“Don’t you two have places to be?” Bailey asks, less than impressed with her two interns in front of her. They both nod and scurry off, back to their table to tell Cristina and Izzie about Dr McDreamy’s kid.

—•—

“I don’t know how they cope with it,” George muses as the group of four interns sit on some beds in the back corridor, waiting to be paged for something.

“Yeah, twitching all the time. God, I’d kill myself if I had them,” Izzie continues. “Would ruin my chances at both medicine and modelling. And a lot of other things, probably.”

“Do you think they wanted to go into medicine? Y’know, before they started twitching? Or have they always had it?” Cristina asks. “Or do they have a tumour?”

“For your information,” a voice cuts in, making all four jump and turn to the source, meeting the likes of Dr Shepherd, “Y/N wants to be a lawyer.” He walks down the corridor to them, everyone’s cheeks turning red a the prospect of being caught gossiping. “The tics developed about eighteen months ago, just before we moved to Seattle. It’s not a tumour, or any kind of swelling; in fact, we have no clue what set it off.”

“Have you done an MRI? CT?” Meredith suggests and Derek nods.

“We ran everything. It all came back clean.” He looks at Cristina. “They did want to be a doctor. When we realised we couldn’t cure them, they were upset for weeks. They—“

“Talking about me?” A voice calls down the corridor and Derek’s face splits into a smile, something that doesn’t go amiss by the others. You whistle, making it to the group and taking a seat next to your dad. You lean on him… until your neck twitches and you almost fall back. Derek’s hand shoots out, supporting you.

“We were just—“ Izzie tries to say before you cut her off, clicking in the process.

“Let me guess.” You whistle. “The doctor que—“ you click “—question and how I live with—“ your neck jerks to the side “—it.”

Your dad gives you a smile. “Ten out of ten for you,” he smiles. You nod.

“Well, I used to want to—“ you click “—be a doctor, until we found out this is incurable.” You whistle. “Pretty soul-crushing.” Your neck jerks back, and if it wasn’t for your dad’s hand, you would’ve hit the wall. “And we’ve learned to adapt to it. There are—“ you click “—days where I’m fine, with only a few, and days—“ you whistle and everyone can feel the frustration radiating off you. Still, no one chooses to finish your sentence, letting you get it out yourself “—like this.”

—•—

For a while, the six make general conversation, until, slowly but surely, you start to drift off. It isn’t until there’s an odd silence that Derek notices, and he has a smile on his face as he looks down at you, asleep on his shoulder.

“They look so… peaceful,” Izzie comments quietly, the others agreeing.

“Yeah. We’ve had a few rough days this week. God knows they need the rest,” Derek mutters. He shifts to look between the four. “Any of you wake them, I’ll make sure you’re banned from the OR for a month.”

Everyone’s eyes widen as they nod in unison; they’re all begging for a chance at more surgery. Carefully, Derek manoeuvres you so your head’s lying in his lap, body stretched out on the hospital bed. He carefully cards his fingers through your hair, detangling it as gently as he can.

The interns’ pagers go off, assigning them jobs and the four rush off, leaving Derek and you to rest. He smiles, getting himself comfortable sitting on the end of the bed, back against the wall.

“Get some rest, buddy. I’ll always be here for you.”

—•—

Hope y'all enjoyed. I know it's pretty different from what I usually write, but this is for my own comfort so...

Sorry not sorry

Taglist

@breadsticks2004 @criminalsmarts @rororo06@ogmilkis@ssebstann@herecomesthewriterwitch @garcias-batcave @spidey-reids-2003 @lovelylaurens@sataninsatin@snarky--starky @mcntsee @averyhotchner @dindjarinsspouse @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love

[barbarianprncess]

the anatomy of a hurricane

read on ao3

part i // part ii // part iii

or

part iv: surge

Unsurprisingly, the beginning of the end is Dionysus’s fault.

It’s been three weeks since they got back from the field trip from hell, and Camp Half-Blood stumbles around normalcy. They eat, they sleep, they grieve. And they wait for the end of the world.

Percy’s routine had gotten a lot less listless and a lot more hostile. Rather than pick at, he stabbed at the food he barely ate. At his daily perch on the boulder, his vacant stare out into the forest became a pointed glare at the sky. Everyday it got harder to ignore the whirlpools he created in the ocean, or the screams of the monsters he hunted.

But he started training with her again.

(Chiron tells her he thinks it's a good sign. Clarisse thinks he should shove it.)

Time passes achingly slow when your entire life is an interlude. Days crawls by in echoey stretches, with stale smiles and eyes far too tired for their age.

And then there are the Bad days. The days where Percy’s control slips. The days where the ocean rages and ground trembles. Afterwards, he’ll come to her, eyes wide with bags so heavy his pupils strain to hold them up, and shaggy hair falling past his ears. On those days, without saying anything, she’ll take him to the beach. Sometimes he cries, sometimes he holds her hand, and sometimes he does nothing but stare out into open water. He barely speaks to her though.

He barely spoke to anyone.

So, needless to say, it’s a surprise when Percy had shown up to the morning meeting right along with the other head counselors, sat down on his chair and stared pointedly at a plastic white ping-pong ball. His presence alone made every pause echo and every silence a scream. The heavy air made Katies gasp at the door all the more noticeable.

Shit.

(It’s about here when something in Clarisse snaps. It’s as if all this watching yet doing and saying nothing finally caught up to her, and she was no longer in control of her body. All she could do was observe.)

She saw Dionysus waltz into the room with no warning and a Diet Coke. She saw the way Percy’s hand immediately curled into a fist. The way the muscles in his arms rippled, like it took physical force to keep him from standing up. The way the veins in his neck popped out as they all listened to Dionysus ramble about how Percy’s being granted the ability to leave camp was practically charity, and how he should be ‘eternally grateful’.

She heard the squeak of Percy’s chair at the word ‘grateful’ and saw Beckendorf’s hand snatch his wrist. She saw how Percy clamped his mouth shut, said nothing, and nodded, like it was the hardest thing he ever had to do. She felt the collective sigh of relief of the others as Dionysus turned to leave, but realized it was a breath let out too soon, when the god stopped.

He turned to Malcolm and asked how the Athena cabin was managing under his leadership. Malcolm, stiff and paler than she’d ever seen him, stammered through something like ‘not to worry, they were doing fine’.

Looking back, it was probably deliberate.

Dionysus hasn’t been here these days. He doesn’t feel the ground tremble, he doesn’t see the tidal waves or the cracks in the earth.

He didn’t hear the way Percy screamed.

Intentional or not, at the time, it seemed out of pure ignorance when Dionysus—who was walking towards the exit—looked over his shoulder, and, as if it were the most casual thing in the world, called, “Just let me know if you need a replacement.”

Several things happened at once.

Chiron shoved Dionysus the rest of the way out the door, slammed it shut, and cried, “Percy, don’t!”, but the damage was done. Percy broke free from Beckendorf’s hold as the room began to shake, chest heaving and hands trembling. Conner and Micheal tripped over each other trying to back up, and Katie yanked Travis out of the way just before a shield hanging on the wall could fall on top of them. Will looked hopelessly around and Clarisse realized he didn’t have anything with him. She was seriously considering whacking Percy on the back of the head with Maimer, (which would do nothing considering the fact that he’s invincible) when Silena stands up.

“STOP!” Silena commands, and, miraculously, he does. Percy falls to his knees, and when the ground stops shaking, it’s the first time anyone in the room is still enough to notice how hard he’s crying. Crying doesn’t really cover it. It’s animalistic, his sobs, so violent he positively heaves. It is raw and ugly and painful to watch. Clarisse is still frozen stuck to the floor, but Silena is quick to lose the authority in her stance, kneeling down to wipe his tears and put her hands on his cheeks, lifting his face to meet her eyes, and begin to soothe. There is music in her comfort, rhythm in the way she alleviates.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s all okay—no, no, no, no one is replacing Annabeth, I promise, right Charlie?”

A quick look of understanding passes between her and Beckendorf before the latter slides in to take Silena’s position.

“That’s right, no one is, and no one could—I'm sorry Perce, I'm just so, so sorry.”

When it’s clear that the sobbing isn’t gonna stop anytime soon, Beckendorf heaves a heavy sigh and rests his forehead against Percy’s, whispering, “I know, I’m sorry.” Over and over and over again.

“I need some air,” Silena says, her normally olive skin white as a sheet, appearing next to Clarrise. “Go with me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

They end up sitting in silence on the giant porch swing around the front of the building. At some point Katie wandered over too and the three of them sat, staring straight ahead. Katie links her arm with Clarisse’s, and Silena rests her head on her other shoulder. It should be familiar, the three of them sitting together, but it’s foreign in the empty spaces Annabeth should be taking up, throwing her gangly legs across their laps. Silena should be attempting to mess with Annabeth's curls, Katie should be complaining about Annabeth's sneakers on her thighs, growing tiny vines from the dirt in the bottom of her shoes out of spite.

The ghost of her laugh is stuck in Clarisse’s head. She wishes she could give apparitions the finger.

“You did great back there.” Katie speaks hesitantly, afraid to broach the subject.

“Yeah.” Clarisse adds. “You did good. I know you hate using your charmspeak, but he needed it.”

“Yeah, I know. Like Chiron said, ‘we have to contain him’.” (That's what he talked about when she and Percy were gone? Gods, Clarisse fucking hates that horse.) “But, I still feel bad. Messing with someone's head like that. Manipulating them.” She shudders.

Clarisse tries to think of anything other than the fact that Annabeth ‘dying’ in the first place is one giant manipulation.

(She fails.)

“You know, it was Annabeth who helped me learn to use my powers in the first place. Did I ever tell you that? Annabeth was the one who did all the research and taught me how to use it for good. She told me there was nothing wrong with me. It feels wrong using it against someone she….using it against Percy.”

Clarisse is putting a lot of effort into not standing up and punching a hole into the Big House wall Connor-style, when she feels teardrops sliding down the side of her arm.

“Katie?”

Silena, who was lost in thought after her confession, sits up and her eyes widen with alarm. “Kates, why’re you crying?”

“Because, I can’t fix the sunflowers!” Katie exclaims, tears rolling down her face. “Annabeth's gone, and Percy’s a wreck, and Travis doesn’t joke anymore, and Connor doesn't laugh anymore, and Micheal hasn’t fixed his bow yet, and I haven’t seen Grover in weeks, and all Beck does is work, and all Will does is worry, and no one sleeps or talks or sings anymore and I can't fix it! Any of it! The sunflowers are dying and I can't fix them, I can’t go anywhere near them, because they were her favorite and I don't understand how she can be gone—she was right here! Right here, and she was so good, so good, to everyone, and I can’t—it’s just—sunflowers!”

Clarisse has never been good at feelings. Especially not big complex ones, like the kind that crop up when someone you grow up with decides to fake die and leave you to deal with the aftermath.

But she can’t run. She’s supposed to take care of them. She promised.

“No.”

“Clarisse—,”

“No!”

“Try to understand—,”

“Understand? Understand what? That you have fake suicidal tendancies?”

“Clarisse, I read the prophecy when I was 10. I met Percy two years later. Every minute of every hour of every day I spent with him. I’ve known….. It's been on borrowed time. We've been on borrowed time. I've known it since the beginning. It’s all I’ve known. But, with this plan—,”

“This insane plan that not even Connor—fucking Connor—would go through with!”

“It’s gonna be okay, You’re gonna be okay—,”

“It’s not just about me! What about them, huh? What about the Stolls? Connor adores you, Travis looks up to you. What about Micheal, and all his anger issues only you know how to deal with? What about Beck, and the machines? What about Silena and Katie—you told me once the four of us were sisters! What about Malcolm, the rest of Cabin 6? He’s your brother, they’re your siblings! What about Percy?”

“Clarisse.”

“He’s never gonna forgive you.”

Clarisse didn’t notice her ears were ringing, or how heavy she’s breathing until the silence that held as Annabeth dropped her eyes. When she finally lifts them, they're shining.

“Did I ever tell you what the last line of my prophecy was? To lose a love worse than death. Percy and I haven’t been the same since last summer. He’s my best friend in the world and he can’t get through a sentence. I hurt when I’m with him and I hurt when I’m without him. Whatever it is that we’re doing—it feels like losing …... Because it’s all right there, he’s right there, but he can’t look me in the eye. So, yeah, maybe I will lose him forever. Maybe I already have. But, I’d rather ask for forgiveness after he’s survived, than ask permission from a dead man walking.”

“Annabeth—,”

“It's for all of them to decide whether or not they forgive me. All I'm asking is that you take care of them for me in the meantime. Please.”

Take care of them. Annabeth’s ‘dying’ wish echoes in her head, taunting and begging her at the same time.

Take care of them.

Gods. It’s all so fucked, she wants to scream.

So, she grips Katie and Silena’s hands, and marches them to the spot in the woods where Annabeth and the three of them used to sneak out to after curfew in the winter months when they were the few kids left at camp.

And she does just that. She screams. She screamed like she’d been wanting to this entire month. She screams for Annabeth and for Percy and every kid at camp and she screams for herself. She screams bloody fucking murder. At some point Katie and Silena join in, and Katie’s still crying and Silena throws a rock and they end up hugging and shaking and deliriously laughing. And they all feel the missing piece, and they curse and cry and stomp and just mourn together. And despite what she knows, Clarisse mourns with them.

The fucked-upedness of the whole situation is still there, but Silena seems a little lighter, and Katie’s smiling soft beneath her tears, and Clarisse finally feels like she’s done something right.

She walks the girls back to their respective cabins, and heads to the Big House with the intention of checking to make sure Percy had been put to sleep. (Will had to switch to liquid valium and stir it into pudding now. Because again. Fucking invincible.) When she feels the earth rumble and vibrate as if building up towards something big—

And then silence.

Eerie calm.

The kind that’s followed by storms.

She runs.

When she bursts into the Big House, she expects to see Percy at the center of the room, with Chiron and Dionysus cowering in the corner, Beckendorf trying in vain to get Percy to breathe, knocked over chairs, and maybe even a broken ping-pong table.

Instead, she finds Chiron pacing on anxious hooves and Beckendorf sitting across from a straight faced Percy. His expression is unreadable and his fingers are interlaced above the table, squeezing tight enough to burn. Chiron is at the head of the table with a disgruntled god of wine at his side.

“What's going on?” Clarisse asks, already afraid of the answer.

Chiron speaks up, fast, as if the words had come out before he had time to stop them. “Dionysus has just received word that Lu–Kronos,” Chiron catches, too late to stop Percy’s eyes from flashing. “Has found some way to……incapacitate New York.”

“Incapacitate…..how?”

“They’ve put the entirety of New York to sleep,” Beckendorf interrupts, glancing over at Chiron. “There's no real way to sugar coat that, I feel like we shouldn’t even try.”

“I’m sorry, they did what?”

“Morpheus. He put every mortal on the island of Manhattan to sleep,” Percy speaks, slow, sure, and rageful. He has to pause after every word to take a breath. “He put my city to sleep. The invasion has started.”

“We don’t know that, right, Dionysus?” Chiron attempts to placate.

Beckendorf shifts in his chair, Dionysus clears his throat. “No, we don’t. Besides, the gods are preoccupied at the moment, so it’s probably best to keep this under wraps. No need to go barging into New York trying to be heroes just yet, when we don't know what our enemies have planned. Let them make the first move, and we can figure it out from there.”

“What?!?” Clarisse objects, sharing the same incredulous look as Beckendorf as he speaks up with her.

“You want us to do nothing? That's insane!”

“For all we know their first move is bombing a hospital. You wanna just let them bomb a hospital?”

“Insane! An entire island is asleep and you want us to do nothing? People could be hurt!”

“We can’t just—,”

“He’s right.” Percy cuts in.

“What?” “Excuse me?” Clarisse and Beckendorph’s surprise is simultaneous and visceral. Chiron’s eyes almost pop out of his head. Even Dionysus is too stunned to speak.

“He’s right. We can’t do anything right now. There’s no use barging out into the open where we’re more vulnerable. We watch what they do from where it’s safe. We can do that, right? With the shield?” Percy looks to Beckendorf, who is staring at Percy like he’s dropped from the sky.

“Uhh, yeah. In theory we should be able to, but it is a prototype and without Anna—my partner, there are some kinks.”

At the sound of what was almost Annabeth's name, Percy’s bicep ripples, as if he’s squeezing his own hand even tighter, which shouldn’t be possible considering how white his knuckles are. Yet, he simply nods and continues. There’s something in his eyes Clarisse doesn’t recognize. “It will work well enough that we’ll be able to monitor where they are and what they do. It’s a bad idea to rush in, and there's no reason to worry anyone if we aren’t doing anything. Causing a panic with no clear solution is stupid.”

“Exactly.” Dionysus agrees, “Who knew the boy had some sense.”

Percy’s jaw twitches. He meets her eyes. They’re red and puffy but there’s something in them she just can't quite place…

“Well, if that’s all, the three of you are dismissed.” Dionysua waves his hand. Percy stands and exits as Clarisse and Beckendorf follow dumbly.

Once they’re outside, they keep walking, looking straight ahead. She brushes Percy’s arm and says,

“Nice speech.”

“Thank you, I thought so.”

“But you don’t actually mean any of the shit that you said.”

“Not a word of it, I’m killing the bastard. We leave tonight.”

Clarisse thought about the end of the world fairly often.

She tried her best not to. But she was fairly certain it would. End, that is. In her defense, the prophecy basically says the fate of the world depended on a teenage boy making the right decision. Forgive Clarisse for not having too much faith.

Then she met him. And the prophecy kid was no longer some nameless figurehead, he was Percy, a scrawny kid with little to no impulse control and a heart too big for his chest. And when he let her take home the fleece on her own and take all the credit when they were thirteen, she was certain—they were all gonna die. Clarisse used to think despite having the power, Percy was too kind to make the be all, end all decision that would decide the fate of the world, too gentle to kill.

Then Mt. St. Helens happened. And suddenly Percy was the most powerful demigod of their generation. And for a second, Clarisse thought they had a shot.

Then Annabeth died.

(Sort-of)

And suddenly none of that mattered because Clarisse’s life was a whirlwind of nightmare situations and she didn't have time to think about the end of the world, all she could do was try and keep herself and the people she cared about upright and away from flying debris.

Percy and Clarisse snuck out that night on some pegasi, and Iris messaged Thalia and Grover who’d met them in central park. Thalia, ever the badass, hitched a ride on a giant timber wolf, and an apprehensive Grover did the same with Percy’s hellhound, Mrs. O’Leary.

(She did not know Percy had a hellhound, but she doesn’t think now is the best time to ask. All she knows is she likes him better for it.)

Beckendorph stayed back at camp covering for them, but gave them the shield which they used to locate Kronos. It took a couple tries, but eventually they found him heading for the Upper East Side, and decided to cut him off at the Williamsburg Bridge.

They’re standing on the empty bridge, after getting the few sleeping pedestrians there out of their cars and out of the way, when she checks one of the cars dashes, she sees it's 3 am on August 18th. The end is finally here. She should probably be feeling more. It’s a bit underwhelming, actually. She takes comfort in the knowledge that if the world ends today, Percy’s gonna take Olympus down with it.

“So, is there a plan?” Thalia calls from where she’s directing her wolf (whom, Clarisse was told by Thalia with a faraway look in her eye, is named Jason) to dispose of a potbellied business man. “Or, are we wingin’ it? I’m good with either, I just need to know.”

“I am not good with either.” Grover pipes up from her left. “Not that it’ll have any impact on what ends up happening, just letting you know.”

The waver in Grover's voice almost makes her laugh, but then she peers over at Percy. He is standing a few feet ahead of her, sword in one hand, photo of Annabeth in the other, and eyes straight ahead, looking like vengeance personified. Any laughter dies in her throat.

Clarisse coughs an ‘ahem’—as if that was gonna get rid of the ball of guilt that lives at the base of her neck—and says, “Sure there's a plan, Goat boy. Wait until the army gets here.”

“Then what?”

“Try not to die.”

Grover mutters something along the lines of ‘hate that plan’, when they feel the ground beneath them tremble. Thalia’s brow furrows and calls, “Uh, Percy?”

“Not me.” He points to the other end of the bridge.

Holy mother of shit.

Horde isn’t a big enough word to describe what's steadily marching toward them right now. There's so many, it’s as if the spirit of this army made from demigods nightmares is one giant, living, breathing, gnarly thing, rearing its head and craving blood. And the head of this horror show is none other than the Minotaur. When the bull headed creature roars, what truly scares her is the echo of the sleeping city in response. There is no backup.

“Didn’t you kill him already?” Thalia asks, fingers visibly tight on her bow.

“That brand of evil doesn’t stay dead long.” Grover answers, hooves positively quaking. “How are we gonna…..”

And the goat might’ve kept talking, but Clarisse doesn’t hear it, can't hear anything other than the ringing in her ear because Percy is slipping Annabeth's picture in his pocket and turning around and their eyes are locking and she realizes two things at once.

First, when Percy runs headfirst into the biggest army Clarisse has ever seen, and he’s prepared to do it alone.

Second, that everything that’s happened since she lied to him on the docks has been a prologue, a fucked-up overature leading this moment. Before she knows what she’s doing Clarisse cries out, “Wait!”

Percy turns back, brows questioning.

Clarisse pulls Annabeth's dagger out of her bag and hands it to him. And her throat is clogged up and she can’t speak, but she doesn’t have to. Something about the reverence he holds for the weapon, scares her more than his earthquakes ever did. He looks at the knife like it’s judgment day, and every single monster in the crowd will have a reckoning with it. With him.

He looks her heavy in the eye. Nods. Turns.

Then he charges.

If you ask Clarisse after, she’d have no way of explaining to you what Percy did next.

The destruction he caused, the havoc he reeked was indescribable. He relished in creative ways to kill. He called water from the Hudson and shaped it like tendrils, lifting three empousa and slamming them into the ground turning them to dust instantly. He shook chunks of gravel until sinkholes the size of cars were created, leaving monsters scrambling for ground that wasn’t there. He brought the river to them, submerging monsters' heads in floating pools of water, drowning them on land. He was toying with them, killing for sport. He slashed and stabbed and laughed—an inhumane, ugly thing. The kind of laugh that made Clarisse forget whose side he was on.

She never understood how merciful Percy was, until he wasn’t anymore.

“Should we….try to stop him?” Grover asks with uncertainty.

We couldn’t if we tried, Clarisse thinks.

Then, Clarisse thinks about that day on the dock, how bright Percy’s eyes had been at the prospect of seeing Annabeth. Thinks about the stillness of water all night long. Thinks about his nightmares and cracks in the earth. Thinks about his half-drunk confession of a sober promise.

She thinks about the time he found her sobbing on a ratty old couch in the basement Big House. Thinks about how he sat on the floor below her, and took her hand. She thinks about how he didn’t let go all night, not even when she fell asleep. How he was there for her, steady and gentle and kind when she couldn't bear the consequences of her own inaction.

She thinks about how much better he deserves.

About how much they’ve taken from him.

Percy stabs the Minotaur in the heart with the creature's own severed horn.

She waves Grover off.

Time passes and Clarisse witnesses a massacre. She squints at Percy and realizes he’s barely broken a sweat. He slits the throats of the last standing telkhines, and when he’s done he kicks at monster dust as if unsatisfied with how quickly they died. He’s still got that maniacal glint in his eye but his muscles are taunt, as if he’s holding back.

What is he still waiting for?

The answer to her unspoken question rides upon a skeletal horse in golden armor. The air fills with foreboding and Clarisse smells ozone. Nausea washes over her as Luke/Kronos approaches leisurely, like he has all the time in the world. She remembers what he patrons and supposes he does. His decaying horse wanders through the wreckage and piles of dust, stomping on the only evidence Percy left behind that anything had been there at all.

Thalia crackles with electricity.

Grover raises his reed pipes.

Clarisse pops her knuckles.

Percy’s stoneface cracks. And he grins.

Fucking. Grins.

It’s an nasty thing. Charged with danger. And Clarisse thinks Annabeth was wrong.

The only dead man walking is Luke.

“Perseus Jackson.” Kronos speaks with Lukes voice. She’s never seen a titans puppet before. It’s unsettling, the way Luke’s mouth curls around a syllable half a second too late, the body tripping to keep up with the mind's demands. That same mouth twists into a facetious sort of pout. “I take it you didn’t appreciate my welcome party.”

Percy snarls.

Not-Luke waves him off. “No matter. Monsters are a restorative resource. I cannot, however, say the same about demigods. And I see you’ve brought some along with you.” His eyes flick around the makeshift defensive formation they found themselves in behind Percy. “Thalia Grace. I must say how disappointed I was when you made your….choice. The boy was so convinced he could get you onside.”

“‘The boy’ was profoundly mistaken.” Thalia retorts with a seemingly unconscious clap of thunder. “About a lot of things.”

Kronos remains unphased. “You’ve brought your pet to battle?” It takes a minute to realize he’s talking about Grover, who seethes with shaky hands. Kronos’s eyes wander and land on Clarisse. “Daughter of Ares. I must say I’m surprised to see you. Thought you’d be busy tending to a broken thing. What was his name? Chris?” Clarisse blazes but before she can respond, Percy interrupts.

“Enough.” He raises Riptide in his right hand and tightens his left hand's grip on Annabeth's dagger. He stares at the thing Kronos rode in on and it occurs to Clarisse that Annabeth wasn’t messing around when she said Percy could talk to horses, because seemingly out of nowhere, the creature of bones bucks on its hind legs, throwing Kronos off it’s back, and gallops away at full speed.

Kronos scrambles to his feet, yellow eyes narrowing at Percy as he approaches. “Cheap trick, demigod. I must say I expected more from the savior of Olympus.”

Percy lets out a low primal sound, and Clarisse doesn’t think he looks like a savior. He looks like vengeance.

Percy raises Annabeth's dagger to strike. As Kronos’s scythe rises to meet it, it transforms into Backbiter—a weapon that's become infamous these past years. Their weapons cross and the impact creates a shock wave that shakes what's left of the bridge. Percy wastes no time, using Riptide to slash at Kronos’s middle while Backbiter is occupied with so much force, half his armor is cut clean off.

Kronos stumbles back, and for the first time Clarisse sees fear in those horrible golden eyes.

Just as he shakes it off Grover begins playing his reed pipes, and vines pop through concrete, tugging at the titans legs and tripping him. Before he can fall all the way, Thalia calls a lightning bolt to deflect off of Maimer and hit Kronos in the chest.

“Stop!” The titan commands, and suddenly Clarisse can’t move. A quick look around and it seems Thalia and Grover are in the same boat. “I'm tired of your tricks. I’ll kill you one at a time.” He points at Percy. “You first, Jackson.”

This time Kronos attacks first, but Percy is far from on the defensive. Kronos fights like a demon, all heavy strikes and sheer force. Pure strength and no fear—reckless the way you can afford to be when you’re immortal.

Percy is graceful, delivering crushing blows that are just as powerful as Kronos, but he's so light on his feet he’s almost dancing. He flips, and kicks and turns and slashes up a storm—literally. He stretches a hand out and the river rises and swirls around him, creating a living barrier made of water vapor that swirled around him, winds so powerful they buffeted all the titans' hits. Percy jumps, water pushing him up over the titan before slashing at his back mid-air and landing in a roll a few feet away. The storm follows his path—leaving Kronos soaking.

If Kronos fights like a demon, Percy raises hell itself.

He uses the hilt of Riptide to knock Kronos on the head, then spins and slashes in the same spot on his forehead. The titan snarls in frustration and raises his sword to strike—

Then he freezes in place.

Clarisse feels her own muscles loosening and she’s no longer stuck under the titans hold.

“Wh-what is this?” Kronos’s voice waivers.

Percy lifts an arm and points at Lukes face, which suddenly flushes an unnatural shade of red.

“Stop this at once!” Kronos demands. His answer comes in the form of a flick of Percy’s wrist which makes the titan double over.

“YOU CANNOT KILL ME BOY!” Kronos bellows. “I AM A TITAN!”

Percy's face twists up in a chilling sneer.

“Even titans bleed.”

Percy curls his hand into a fist, and Kronos screams in agony. Clarisse hears a sickening pop.

One of Luke's arms hangs out at an awkward angle.

Thalia gasps. Grover vomits.

Percy grins.

Clarisse watches with horror as pale skin is stretched by burst vessels, and veins crawl out of place. Clarisse can only imagine what’s going on inside Lukes body, but from the outside it looks like torture. She can hear the sloshing of all the liquid in Luke's body responding to Percy’s unforgiving hands. Kronos groans in pain and squirms as if trying to put himself back the way he was.

Then Percy opens his palm and Kronos begins to cough and sputter. He’s choking. Percy is choking him with his own blood.

Grover retches, and cries out, “Percy, that’s enough.”

Percy ignores him. There’s another pop. Luke’s left leg spasms and he collapses.

Thalia shudders, closing her eyes and yells, “Percy, stop!

Kronos coughs up more blood.

Clarisse shakes out of her stupor and inches forward, reaching out to touch Percy’s forearm. He grabs her wrist with unforgiving force, but Clarisse doesn’t flinch.

“Why?” Percy asks, his voice shaking with rage. “Why should I stop? Why should I show him any mercy? He is the reason Annabeth is dead!”

“Annabeth?” A broken voice croaks.

Faster than she can think, Percy drops her wrist and grabs the owner of the voice by the throat. “Don’t ever say her name.”

The broken body looks up with desperation in his wild blue eyes.

Blue eyes.

“Percy, his eyes!”

Percy gazes at Luke with more scrutiny and is so shocked by what he sees, he drops him like a ragdoll.

“Is this real?” Percy asks, suspicion coating his voice

“I can hold him back—but not for long.” Luke groans as he attempts to look up at Percy. “Is Anna—is she really…did I really…” He trails off. Percy nods tightly.

They look at each other for a long time.

Luke undoes a strap in his armour, points at the skin exposed, and closes his eyes. “Do it.”

Percy drops Riptide and lifts Annabeth's dagger above his head with both of his hands.

Clarisse doesn’t see exactly where the dagger lands, but based on the agonizing scream, it hits the mark. Luke begins to glow, so she makes sure to turn Percy’s eyes away at the last second. There’s a buzzing in her ear that gets louder as the light gets brighter.

And then silence.

Silence, a sunrise, and the broken body of Luke Castellan.

Grover and Thalia inch toward them, as Percy looks down at Luke with thinly veiled disgust and says something that gives Clarisse whiplash.

“I can fix you, if you want. Put everything back in place.”

Luke looks up at him, expression unreadable. “Why? Isn’t my death what you wanted?”

“Not necessarily. I wanted you to suffer.” Percy says matter of factly. “But she didn’t.”

Oh.

“I could fix you. For her.”

Thalia’s already shaking her head when Luke says, “No. Thank you, but I couldn’t live with it. Any of it.”

Percy nods, but doesn’t say anything.

Luke looks at Thalia and Grover. “I’m sorry.”

Thalia looks at him with a strange sort of pity. “Maybe one day, that will mean something to me.”

Luke smiles, resigned, and takes a deep breath. Then another.

Then his breathing gets shallow and high pitched.

And then he stops breathing at all.

And they stand there over his body for a long time, mourning a boy and resenting the monster he became.

Clarisse put a hesitant hand on Percy’s shoulder.

He rests his head on her hand and closes his eyes for a moment.

Or three moments.

“Let’s go home.”

They all start to leave when Clarisse hears a voice—so faint she thinks she’s hearing things until Percy freezes next to her.

“Annabeth?”

She thinks it’s another hallucination like the one in the Underworld, and she’s grabbing Percy's arm and trying to turn him around. “It’s not real, Percy, it’s not her.”

He shakes her off, “No, that’s her, I know her voice.”

He takes another stem and she’s about to get Thalia to grab his other arm, when she sees a figure in the distance.

Then she hears it.

“Percy!”

Annabeth’s voice is crying out. Annabeth is crying out.

Then she’s yelling with Percy and Grover and Thalia have joined them and they’re walking toward her in disbelief. They’re in so much disbelief in fact, they don’t realize she’s limping until it’s too late.

“Annabeth? Annabeth! Annabeth, it’s me, it’s us! Annabeth!”

They’re close enough to see her face and for the first time in weeks, she sees Percy smile. A real smile, not a sneer or something hollow, a perfect genuine smile.

Annabeth stops to smile back.

Then she collapses.

[emeren]

bloodlust ☤ 1

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“The devil and I get along just fine...”

Pairing: Fem!reader x Vampire!Eren 

Word Count: 5.1 k 

Chapter Warnings: Blood, anxiety

Chapter Summary: Reader, a nurse, finds themselves facing a fanged beast, unsure what to make of the world. But this devil with dark hair may not have the intentions you think. 

☤ this work of fiction deals with vampires. in turn, there will be discussions of blood and minimal gore. it will also include nsfw content in the near future. all chapters will be marked appropriately☤

Moonlight soaked the path towards his freedom. It danced and reflected off of the dew coated blades of grass. Each one emulated a life he planned to save, with the destruction of his  people and the protection of the person he cared for most in the world. She had yet to materialize into something more than the soft breeze of a memory.

He was hungry; the tortuous cry of his instinct to ravage told him so. However, years of training and restraint had yielded him more than capable of swallowing his own desire. The one thing he sought most weighed heavier than impotent monstrous actions. For his goal, he could resist the craving to release his sharpened fangs.

He allowed his eyes one last glance over the house he’d called home for the past four years; dark and gloomy against the stormy night sky. Soon, those who’d chained him in shackles and dragged him to the cellar would be amiss in panic. Wrought iron bars that once caged his devilish soul would be found empty. A beast was on the run.

He felt brief sorrow for those he would hurt in the process of securing their freedom from a pained existence. But he’d made up his mind. All that was left to do was to head north.

His nimble hands pulled the dark hood of his coat above his head. He took one deep breath, the entrancing smell of rain and dirt wafting through the air.

North, to the person that occupied his past, present, and future. To freedom.

☤    ☤    ☤

You considered yourself well suited to the role you’d decided to serve for the rest of your life. Time spent meticulously memorizing health patterns and disease characteristics had broadened your sense of confidence. Doubt rarely ever plagued your mind past the childish decision of what to eat for breakfast in the morning.

Nursing had not always been your final destination in life; the unprecedented scared you enough to mark healthcare as a profession to avoid. Losing two parents unexpectedly in high school due to a mysterious illness had been enough to change your once convinced mind.

Your rain jacket was slick with the slight precipitation clouding the late night sky as you entered the hospital locker room -- a weak cup of coffee in hand, marred with a ring of chapstick residue against the lip. Night shifts were often greeted with unrelenting misery on your behalf.

“You look excited to be here,” The familiar tone of your coworker hummed from behind you. There seemed no force strong enough to concur surprise in your unrested eyes. Historia was someone who lacked a certain fear factor in most aspects of her being, anyways.

“I didn’t see you when I came in, Historia,” You answered, eyes glancing over your shoulder to take in the blonde-haired nurse. Despite having walked in the rain the same as you, her demeanor was much more spritely.

She gave you a smile, following you towards your adjacent lockers. “Ah, I came in the back entrance today.”

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who’s working the night shift,” Your half-assed attempt at being friendly mingled with the clammer of your locker. Historia chuckled softly from behind her door.

“I prefer the night shift, actually. Isn’t this your third night on?” She asked. You slipped your wet jacket from your shoulders, shaking it slightly before hanging it in the metal box.

“Yeah, it is. Can’t say I enjoy it as much as you do,” You lightly closed the door, Historia doing the same. Overt kindness wasn’t a trait you claimed when burnt out on work; she knew this and gave you no foul for it.

Her blue eyes crinkled in the ghost of a smile. “Not a creature of the night, hm?”

“I’m no vampire, that’s for sure,” You chuckled. Historia’s smile faltered slightly. It came as no surprise that she was afraid of monsters and ghouls. You decided to change the subject in her favor. “Speaking of, I hear it’s a full moon tonight.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widened, coy smirk wiggling its way back onto her blushed cheeks. Despite your adverse to the unknown, you enjoyed indulging in childish hospital rumors. The notion that weird cases spiked on nights when the moon was full in the sky was a tale as old as time; strange people flooded the hospitals, with even stranger injuries and illnesses. Or so that was what people said, not that you’d ever experienced it yourself. “I wonder if anything crazy will happen tonight.”

“Doubt it,” You stepped aside, allowing her to match your stride as the two of you headed towards the conference room for a briefing before the shift. She hummed in agreement, the rest of the walk done in a comfortable silence.

The room for debriefing was a mundane conference set up. The walls were a bleached white; anatomy posters and warnings about the harmful nature of cigarettes decorating the walls. An oval desk surrounded by blue, plastic chairs took up most of the room. It smelled like microwaved Kraft, courtesy of a nurse scarfing down a last helping before their shift started.

“That’s odd,” Historia frowned, blue eyes tracing the room. Staff sat around in quiet huddles, most silently waiting for the briefing to start. She glanced down at her watch before nudging you in the arm. “Where’s Doctor Smith? We start in two minutes.”

The tall, burly man was never late for a briefing; his stoic nature didn’t allow room for such a lack. He had never given you a reason to doubt his trust, but something about his demeanor made you uneasy. He commanded a room with such conviction that your coworkers fell to his feet with unadulterated respect; you, a mindless sheep following their lead. Rational thought would’ve placed your discomfort on his position of power and his role as your boss. Simply put, however, he gave you the creeps.

The plastic chair skidded against the polished floor as you took your seat at the table beside Historia. The older staff coughed and occasionally grumbled, filling the tired silence with a sense of annoyance. Your blonde coworker sensed your gripe, elbowing you in the ribs and leaving a crease in your lilac scrubs. You suppressed a smile.

“Pardon me,” Doctor Smith’s commanding voice echoed through the room before he stepped in the doorway. Your muscles tensed; back straightening as if to give the illusion that you hadn’t been hunched over, looking exhausted and miserable. His blond hair was perfectly sculpted; not a strand out of place and not a wrinkle in his blue dress shirt. His lab coat was almost a sickeningly bleached titanium. “Sorry for my tardiness; I was dealing with an emergency back home.”

Historia shifted beside you.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” He gave a terse smile before picking his clipboard off of the table and flipping through the papers. “Looks like we’ve got the regular scheduling for this evening. As usual, the night shift staffing is lighter than our other shifts, so remember to be vigilant and take action without being told to.”

You tended to tune out the mundane precautions and warnings that were part of a pre-shift briefing. Outside the window, rain pattered against the glass pane. The shower provided a sense of comfort; rain often preceded a night spent inside, wrapped in blankets with a mug of hot tea. Though your current schedule didn’t allow room for such indulgence, you took a small delight in the weather condition.

Historia bumped your knee with her own under the table. You glanced at your friend, slightly alarmed from your daze. She leaned over, attempting to discreetly whisper in your ear. “He looks distracted tonight, hm? Wonder what that’s about.”

Your eyes glanced at Doctor Smith, who was reading through the clipboard with a staccato like urgency. Not wanting to cause any disturbance, you nodded your head in agreement.

“We’ll follow through with our regular assignments. If you don’t know where you’re located this evening, I suggest checking the bulletin in the locker room. As for this meeting, you’re all free to go,” His blue irises scanned the faces of all the employees, searching for confusion or questions to be answered. You averted your gaze, following suit as the rest of the room erupted in moving chairs and shuffling scrubs.

You already knew where you were working for the night; the same place as the last two, over in the geriatrics wing. This night would be the same as the others, not that you were in any place to be upset about that.

“Y/N!” Historia’s voice called you to look over your shoulder, barely out of the conference room. She had a slimy smile on her face; the kind that reeked of favors and avoidance. You felt the need to control your eyebrow from rising in annoyance. “Can I ask you something?”

You exhaled from your nose. “Shoot.”

“I have a patient in room 702 that I was assigned to,” The slightest batting of her mascara slicked lashes, blue irises working their hardest to win you over. You raised your eyebrows, urging her to continue. The other staff shuffled by you, sparing nosy glances. “I was wondering if you could take it? I’ll work in the geriatrics wing tonight for you.”

You had to give it to the tiny woman; for all she was worth, she was great at getting people to do what she wanted. You valued her responsibility and reliability, and she’d proved to be a friendly presence in the workplace. However, that didn’t stop you from seeing the selfish underbelly of her prosperous actions.

“What’s the patient in for?” You humored her. Even if her request was self-fulfilling, you figured might as well use it to your own advantage. Almost anything beat another night in geriatrics changing diapers and administering pill dosages.

“A blood transfusion,” She responded, smiling softly at you. “I’m not very good with bloody things, you know. Easily squeamish.”

You pretended to ponder whether or not to take her up on her offer. It was an easy choice, really. “Yeah, sure. What blood type are they?”

☤   ☤   ☤

The stand rattled unpleasantly against the tiled ground as you stopped in front of room 702. The thick bag of blood shook slightly from the sudden stop. How Historia had ever become a nurse when grossed out with the concept of blood, you weren’t sure. It seemed that her sweet disposition often aided her in whatever situation she needed to change for the better. You were an adult woman though, so whatever her motivations might’ve been didn’t concern you.

You gave the cart a once over, making sure all the necessary tools and items were there: a needle, an IV, gauze, those sorts of things. Blood transfusions were a typically fussless procedure; tediously watching the red liquid pump itself into the body.

Your knuckles lightly knocked on the door. “Hello, I’m here to give you your blood transfusion!”

Silence, beating through the empty hallway of the hospital. The lights were dimmed and eerily abandoned. You waited for ten seconds before opening the door to the sleepy room.

The heavy door creaked open, revealing he who was to be given blood. Historia had mentioned he was a John Doe, lying unconscious on the bleached sheets. You turned back to grab your cart, not bothering to be quiet. He’d be awake soon enough, anyway.

As you wheeled it in, your back was to the patient. The cart squeaked and rattled, stopping at the foot of the bed. You turned around, ready to rouse him from his slumber.

Beautiful.

You’d had attractive patients before. Both men and women who floated by life with the easy wings of accurately placed facial features to boost them up. A pretty face often had heat rising to your cheeks, but professionalism stopped you from thinking any further. Natural biological responses couldn’t be helped, after all.

Never had a patient left your lips parting in awe, heart drumming up it’s own beat of excitement in your chest. His face was slim; sharp jawline and a large, broad nose peeking out into the air. Pale cheeks barely dusted by the pink of an almost intangible blush. His eyelashes were long and thick, jutting out against the purple hue of his impossibly dark circles. Hair the color of old driftwood swirled and bunched on his pillow. He had to have been one of the most attractive people you’d ever treated, let alone seen.

What color were his eyes? Were they a dark brown, one to match the nature of his hair color? Or were they green, contrasting his pale skin? You began to feel eager to find out, more excited to know and learn as your gloved hand gripped his broad shoulder. You frowned at the frigid temperature of his skin.

“Excuse me, sir,” You gently shook, trying not to give away the way your body was reacting. There was no place for hormonal displays in your line of work, and despite his undeniable beauty, you were determined to remain professional.

His eyelids snapped open with such a speed you had to compose yourself not to trip backwards. Contrary to what you thought, his irises were a pale, almost sickly greyish blue. They held no gleam; no life behind them. Disturbance washed over your brain, warning bells going off in your mind. He looks slightly… feral?

He jolted upwards, confusion knotted on his once peaceful face. You stumbled backwards slightly, hip clipping on the cart.

“Who are you?” His voice was gravelly, as if it hadn’t been used in quite some time. Blue eyes stared at you with such an uncertainty it made your head spin.

“I’m your nurse, I’m here to give you your blood transfusion,” You gestured towards the cart and stand, a red bag hanging from it like a token of peace. Despite his prickly reaction, you weren’t frightened.

“I feel like I’ve met you before,” He said, eyes squinted. Analyzing you, trying to pick apart your being, yet there you stood before him, a marvel to be held. He briefly glanced to the side; not more than a millisecond were his eyes off you before they were back, filled with unadulterated panic. “Where- where is Historia?”

You frowned, a little perturbed. “She asked to swap-”

“I need you to leave, now.” He growled, voice deep and authoritative. You widened your gaze, taken aback by his demanding request. The sheet fell from around his shoulders, bare chest exposed. Large hands raced to his face, hiding the features you’d once considered beautiful. “Get out of here!”

“Are you alright?” You panicked, stepping closer to the bed. His large form began shaking, knees drawing towards his chest from under the blanket. He appeared to be in pain; like a wounded animal.

“Fuck,” He yelled, breathing becoming labored. There wasn’t time to ponder. Was he having a panic attack? Was he going into shock? Questions didn’t need to be asked, you just knew that you needed to act. “I said leave!”

“No, I need to help you with whatever-” His hand shot off of his face, long, black claws sharpening from his fingers. You became fear stricken, his palm connecting with your chest. It sent you stumbling backwards, tripping over the wire to the heart monitor and slamming into the wall with your back. Tendrils of pain clamored up your spine.

“Close your eyes,” He rose from the bed, both hands dropping from his face. You couldn’t see his eyes, fist clutching your scrubs above your heart. Uncertainty. Terror, facing death like this. A monster stood before you, created by the devil himself. Tall, foreboding, chest heaving. His neck snapped upwards; wide, red eyes piercing into your thinly veiled soul. He spoke something like a garbled beast. “Promise me you’ll close your eyes.”

You didn’t respond. There were no words to be spoken. Between his pink lips glinted a pair of large, sharp incisors. “Promise!”

You reverberated with his words, wincing and shutting your eyes involuntarily. He didn’t want you to watch as he slaughtered you. “I-I promise!”

The loud clamor of metal colliding with the polished floor had you breaking your promise mere seconds after it’d been made.

He stood, illuminated by the fluorescent bulbs like an angel ascending to heaven. The bag, once an object you’d believed to be a healing beacon, clutched between clawed hands. His teeth, bare to the world, puncturing the thick plastic as though it were paper.

His adam’s apple bobbed rhythmically as he swallowed mouthfuls of thick, red blood. It was as if he’d been starved; knees buckling and desperate blood sucking so intense that his legs could no longer support his body weight. He knelt on the once clean floor.

The twine that connected your sense of reality and rationale had been pulled taut -- pieces of the frayed string snapping and threatening to drop you into depths unknown. Uncertainty had always been a foreign concept; you’d been given the option to study your circumstance and fully conceptualize it before going head first into a situation.

That’s what had intrigued you about being a nurse; though the job seemed like a bull in a china shop, you’d learned every reason why or how that bull ended up there and what exactly you needed to do to get it out.

You lacked the expertise or even the understanding to handle this particular situation. What studying could’ve been done? Reading horror stories or watching Twilight as a teenager with your friends? Even then, the probability of this happening to you felt like it should’ve been a zero percent chance.

You liked knowing what to do. Thrived on it, actually. This man, tall and dangerous, presented you with no opportunity to know. There was no textbook on how to handle a vampire, as childish as it felt to recognize that that’s what this was.

You’d been so sure. So convinced that there was no possibility of this heinous monster being an actual thing to walk the same crusted earth as you. Yet here he was, dawning the shape of a man and the face of an angel. How could someone so beautiful be so terrifying?

The hospital wall was cold against your back, the distant hammering of an organ that no longer felt placed in your chest rang true against your clenched fist. You felt the chilling call to move, to rise from your place and run. You didn’t know where, but the muscles in your thighs screamed a silent symphony.

He made quick work of the bag, like it was nothing and had never been anything in the first place. Who had donated that blood? They were probably asleep somewhere, lying in a bed and dreaming of a different world. A world where their charitable donation wasn’t being consumed by a devil before your terrified soul.

The red liquid oozed from his lips and dripped onto his barren chest. You hadn’t moved since you’d collided with the wall what felt like an eternity ago. Your ears rung rapidly with the obnoxious blood flow to your overstimulated brain.

Eyes the shade of a blue jay traced from a pair of blood soaked claws up towards your face, following the path of destruction. Though shock and fear reverberated through your every nerve, the softness in his gaze dulled a small part of your terror. He looked guilty, holding his dripping hands in front of his face like he’d just committed murder.

“You promised to close your eyes,” A voice so small, as if he’d known you your whole life and you had just witnessed a character altering situation. Something echoed in the back of his words, something that sounded like resentment. You couldn’t tell if it was directed at your prying eyes or himself.

“I- I didn’t, I mean, I tried not to but,” You were at a loss. A loss for a way to communicate how you were feeling, a loss for sanity in the world. The monster before you scowled, as if scolding a child who’d disobeyed their parent. “What are you?”

He brought his bloody hands to the floor; you noted that the claws were gone. “I figure it’s pretty obvious at this point. Can’t you tell?” He whispered.

“But vampires aren’t-” His steely gaze hardened at your choice of words. “They aren’t real, are they?”

“They are,” He responded, looking at you with such a strong emotion that you shifted uncomfortably against the wall. What was he thinking? Those eyes looked like they were fixed on someone he cared deeply for, not someone he’d met mere minutes ago. “But you weren’t supposed to know that, which is why I asked you not to open your eyes.”

“You started drinking a bag of blood right in front of me!” You whisper-yelled, brows knitting together to display your slight frustration. The wonder and fear still laid active in your chest, but something about him was familiar and comforting, despite his gruesome actions. You couldn’t explain exactly why you knew he would bring you no harm. “Of course I was going to open my eyes. If I’m not supposed to know, why would you do that right in front of me?”

His scowl deepened. “I tried to warn you. I haven’t had any blood in awhile and I lost control of myself.”

“What happens now?” Your question came out smaller than intended, unfamiliarity rising in your abdomen. The thick stench of blood was beginning to make your intestines twist in disgusting unease.

The question sought to strike a chord in the young man’s features; a grim and saddened look swept across his sharp attributes. His hand came up to pinch his temples, unperturbed by the bloody fingerprints left in its wake. “We have to get out of here, and fast. If we don’t, the people who are after me will kill you.”

“Kill me?” The word had a different sense of fear wafting over you; the kind that pricked your eyes with the sensation to shed tears. He looked pained. “I can tell them that I didn’t see anything, I can promise that I never saw you and-”

“It doesn’t work like that,” He snapped, glancing at you with irritation. His harsh tone forced your pleas to die unsaid in your throat. “The people following me aren’t rational. One of them will also be able to tell you’re lying.”

“So then, what am I supposed to do?” You cried, allowing the bottled up and suppressed emotions to spill over the thin wall of resolve that his comforting presence provided. He didn’t flinch but remained in serious tranquility. “I’m supposed to leave here and hit the road with some random man, who is a fucking vampire, and what? Hope for the best?”  

He looked away from you, blood-covered face staring at the hospital bed that he’d once occupied. “It’s my fault you’re stuck in this now. I owe you enough to protect your life as best as I can.”

You were in hysterics. What sort of ultimatum was this? Stay and die or leave and risk dying? Another predicament that couldn’t be solved with the aid of literary education. Resentment was beginning to build in your own chest. Diving into an unexplored depth of the ocean, brimming with creatures and lore that you had never predicted to be real.

“Hey,” You snapped back to reality. The man before you scooted forwards slightly. Though his face was that of a devil, soaked in another’s blood and deathly pale, his movement had your chest tightening in something other than fear. “I won’t let them hurt you. I promise, if you come with me, you’ll be safe until I can get them off our tail. Then I’ll take off and they’ll follow me, leaving you alone.”

Sticky tears trailed down your cheeks, eyes burning. When did you start crying? “How -- how can you be so sure? How can I trust you?”

He was on his hands and knees in front of you now, sharp nose half a foot away from your face. Any call to breathe was put on hold, teary eyes widening slightly at his stare. It was soft and open, trusting in the strangest way. His dark hair hung around his face.

“My goal is to rid the world of demons such as myself. That’s why they’re after me, and why they would take your life to guarantee silence. When I’m finished with what I want to accomplish, I will be dead and so will they. I have nothing to gain by hurting you. I promise to keep you alive long enough to see the end of this.”

Your lips parted in awe. The conviction in his tone was that to lead an entire army into battle; to create religions and cult followings. Blessed be the demon who wished to take down his own kind.

You had spent years convincing yourself to trust in what others told you to follow. Self-intuition wasn’t enough to breed a successful nurse; you needed the expertise of studies and procedures done before you. You required the necessary tools that others had used and approved of. Your heart’s certainty had no place in medicine. It had no place in the tried and true.

The man slowly rose one freezing hand towards your face, apprehensively watching for your reaction. You sat unmoving, owl-eyed. His palm caressed your chin, cold thumb swiping the tear from your cheek, smearing blood in its wake. “Find it in your heart to trust me.”

The conviction of his words rang lightning through your veins, mouth speaking without precedented thought. “Okay.”

He rose from his crouched position, offering a red hand to help you up from against the wall. You shook your head. There had been enough blood sharing for the evening, sanitation crossing your mind as you shakily slid along the rough plaster, bracing yourself to display a toughness that you weren’t sure you contained.

The rule of thumb not to trust those whom you don’t know played a soft melody in your heart. Mothers’ warnings and fathers’ lectures. Apparently all you had been told fell upon deaf ears, clouded with the hazy judgement of a life threatening situation. But in circumstances such as these, did the general rule apply? You were left to ponder.

“Hey, wait,” You frowned, a dumbfounded feeling crossing your mind as the man stepped towards the opposite side of the room. He stopped and turned, sharp jaw jutting against his mane. “What even is your name?”

“Oh,” He turned back towards the other side of the room. You didn’t follow. The door was the opposite direction, so whatever business he had over there did not concern you. “It’s Eren. And you?”

You felt a slight heat rise to your cheeks at the confession of his name. It was beautiful, feeling somehow appropriate for his physical appearance. “It’s Y/N.”

“Ah,” He responded, as if he already knew. You scoffed inwardly at his tone, still anxiously pressed against the wall. His blood stained hand rose to the latch on the window, attempting to open it.

“Why are you opening the window?” You questioned, noticing a beep from out in the hallway. The door stood open, allowing passersby to witness the blood on the floor and your cheek, as well as this man called Eren, who appeared straight out of a horror movie.

Closing the wooden door meant deciding with certainty to trust him; to follow him and hope that whatever tales of murderous vampires he’d shared had been truthful. To step away from the knowledge and the comfort of your current life. It implied that no one would see you in there with him and come to your rescue.

They will kill you.

Your hand gently clicked the heavy door into its place.

Turning back to Eren, you noticed his hand wrapped around the latch to the window. He was frozen in place, watching you make your final choice.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You reiterated. Eren turned back towards the glass. His reflection wavered slightly in the shine.

“This is how we’re getting out of here,” Eren responded, pulling the latch and shoving the window open as far as it would go. It stopped at about two inches, for safety reasons.

Disbelief once again danced across your mind, pulling you into what was beginning to feel like a new equilibrium. “If you’re planning to leap out of that window, it only opens that far.”

He ignored you, bringing his bloodied palms up against the glass. It appeared as though he merely shoved it; so light that it shouldn’t have budged. It shouldn’t have moved at all. The heavy window snapped at its industrialized hinges, pummeling down towards the ground below.

He glanced at you from over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised semi-smugly. You gawked back; simultaneously impressed by his strength as well as put off. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll die if I jump from here,” You scoffed, still not moving from your place. Eren stared back emotionlessly. He stepped towards the bed, reaching beneath it and pulling out what appeared to be a black hooded jacket.

He swung it over his shoulders, pulling the hood above his head. “I know. If you ride on my back, you won’t die.”

“Are you always this mundanely serious about fucking supernatural shit like this?” You spat. There was a warmth beginning to settle in your face as well as your core; heated by the idea of being so close to him.

“Yes,” He retorted, walking towards you so quickly you thought your head would start spinning. “No time to waste with your endless questions.”

He reached down, abruptly swooping you up from behind your thighs, effectively gripping you bridal style.

“Eren, put me down. Put me down!” You started squirming as he thundered towards the open window. You hated heights as much as the next person; they were fine in retrospect, but made you dizzy when in close proximity. Eren seemed unbothered by your quiet cries of protest.

“Eren, I swear to god,” You brought your fist to his broad chest. He ignored you, stepping onto the ledge of the window. Against any better judgement you still retained, your eyes glanced towards the drop. Your stomach sank, becoming a heavy boulder in the bottom of your abdomen. “Fuck, put me down!”

He stared down at you. A gaze so tranquil that the rest of the scene seemed to fade away. You became hyper-aware of his bare chest which you were pressed against; that unfamiliar churning in your core spreading towards your limbs.

“Hold still, or I’ll drop you.”

☤   ☤   ☤

next chapter >>

tagging: @sunshinedragonofthewest​ @ryukatters​

[titan-fodder]

The Warrior Experience; ft. the Marley Warriors

Rating: Explicit; mdni

Pairing: Zeke, Reiner, Porco, Pieck x fem!reader

Word Count: ~5.3K

Warnings: mildly dubious consent (reader isn’t exactly there of her own free will but is still dtf), multiple partners, voyeurism, virgin Colt, rough blowjob, rough sex, unprotected sex, mentions of unpleasant contraceptives, lots of cum, clear bias toward Reiner

A/N: I don’t know what happened today. I just got possessed by the horny ghost. Enjoy~

It’s always Magath who retrieves you, the sour-faced General swinging open the door to your small room without any type of knock or warning. 

On most nights, he takes a look at you, frowns, then grunts the name of whoever is actually calling for you—requesting your “presence”. This evening, however, he remains silent, leaving it a mystery that keeps you curious as you make yourself slightly more presentable, pulling on a skirt, running a comb through your hair, just enough to look a little more human. 

You walk in silence down the hallways, your hands clasped behind your back as the older man struts in his usual militaristic fashion. As you near the Warrior quarters, you do your best to prepare yourself, but without an idea of who you’re meeting, it’s difficult. 

Because they’re all so different. Galliard, for instance, usually starts the nights off aggressively. He particularly likes slamming you into various surfaces, pinning you down with a bruising grip, but his demeanor changes as soon as he’s inside you. The once careless young man turns to jelly underneath you, gasping and groaning as his adrenaline wanes and he unravels. 

Always tired and slightly unstable, Reiner is soft. Even when his thrusts are deep and harsh, his hands remain gentle, calluses feather light as they dance up and down your ribs, over your breasts. His stamina varies. Sometimes, when he’s a little more out of his head, a little more haunted, he ruts into you for what feels like an eternity. Most of those instances, he doesn’t even come. You’re just there for a distraction— “A nice one,” he tells you quietly, gratefully, but you still know where you stand with him. 

There are nights when he’s desperate for release, however, taking you with quick, sloppy thrusts, spilling inside you within minutes then rubbing your clit until you squeeze him back to full hardness so that he can do it all over again.

Zeke is the hardest to predict, on far ends of one, sadistic spectrum: he either wants you to do all the work while he smirks up at you with a cigarette between his lips, occasionally blowing smoke into your face, or he wants to dominate you entirely. When he falls into the latter category, you’re in his bed for hours, sniffling or sobbing, biting your lip to keep yourself from begging him to stop—one, because he won’t listen, but also because it isn’t your place. 

The Warriors are honorary Marleyans which means they’re much more important and valuable than you are. Your opinion never matters, least of all in the bedroom. 

You’re more or less a toy for them to use, an Eldian plucked from Liberio and brought to the military base with no real say in it. The Warriors are all young and virile, after all. They have needs like anyone else, but despite their honorary status, they’re forbidden from sleeping with Marleyan women. 

So, you live here, at their beck and call with one purpose and one purpose only. 

To your surprise, Magath stops before you can get to the sleeping quarters you are very familiar with at this point. You stand outside of a closed door, raise an eyebrow at the General but don’t dare question him. 

“They’re in there,” he grumbles, nodding to the door before turning around and walking away.

They…

Raising a suddenly very heavy hand, you knock lightly then shift awkwardly until the door opens and reveals Galliard. His perpetual scowl is in place, but he nods his head in acknowledgment then moves to the side to let you in. 

Galliard isn’t the only one in the room—what looks like some kind of conference area with a sizable wooden table surrounded by chairs, a window on the far end displaying the night sky and twinkling stars. Nearly all of those chairs are full, one scooted back from the table that you can easily assume belongs to the redhead standing behind you.

Zeke is lounging comfortably, feet kicked up on the table as he puffs on a cigarette. Reiner is sitting in his chair backwards, slumped forward to rest his head on the wooden backing, though he lifts it to look at you with bloodshot eyes. Pieck, who you do not see often at all, is slouched with her arms pillowing her face, offering you a lazy smile that’s laced with something you cannot place. 

There’s one more person in the room, the vaguely familiar face of Colt Grice, Warrior Candidate slated to inherit the Beast Titan in a few years. You’ve seen him around the base, usually trailing closely behind Zeke, but haven’t gotten the chance to speak with him yet. 

You remain standing even as Galliard takes his seat again, nibbling on your bottom lip, waiting expectantly—nervously. The last time you were in a room with all of them at once was when you’d first been brought here, and that had just been for informal introductions. There had also been another Eldian with you at the time, a male to keep Pieck satisfied, but he’s… No longer with you. 

In true leader fashion, Zeke is the first to speak after taking a long drag from his cigarette, tilting his head back to blow it into the air and creating a haze over himself. 

“Glad you could join us tonight, sweetheart,” he shows a short, unconvincing smile, and that paired with the condescending pet name leads you to believe he’s in one of his more controlling moods.

“I’m just glad to be able to service the Wa—”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to do all that,” he waves you off. “I’ll cut to the chase.”

“Let her sit down first, Zeke, geeze,” Pieck murmurs before holding a small hand out for you, beckoning you to take the seat next to hers.

Never one to argue or disobey, you shuffle over to it and lower yourself, but you can’t relax, not with so many pairs of eyes on you. 

Galliard is twitchy, bouncing his leg up and down, pushing his hair back too often. Reiner, unmoving, just blinks slowly at you, expression flat. Grabbing your hand, Pieck offers a nod that isn’t the slightest bit reassuring while Zeke pins you with an icy gaze. 

“Colt here is gonna be a big boy Warrior pretty soon,” he says, motioning to the boyish blond in the corner who suddenly seems more interested in the floor than anything. “And, he hasn’t been given the chance to have the experiences he deserves. You follow?”

You nod, easily putting the pieces together. They want you to sleep with him, some sort of sexual initiation.

“As I’m sure you’ve picked up, Titan holders don’t have the longest lifespans, so I figure he needs to enjoy what life he has left.”

Another nod, then you start to stand only to be stopped by Galliard who asks, “What’re you doing? Sit back down.”

“Oh,” you plant yourself back in the chair, eyes growing as your stomach sinks. “I thought you wanted me to show Colt—”

Zeke laughs around his cigarette, adding even more smoke to the air around you, and shakes his head. “No, you misunderstand. You will be showing Colt a thing or two tonight, but in here where we can all watch and… Lend a helping hand if need be.”

Mouth going dry, you can’t stop yourself from frowning. Sleep with Colt… In front of all of them? You don’t fancy yourself much of a performer, doubt you’ll be able to put on any kind of good show under so much pressure.

But, you can’t protest. You can’t go against their wishes or complain. You should consider yourself lucky, being able to service the Warriors. It means you’re a half-step above the other Eldians—a devil but a halfway useful one.

“Um. Okay,” you consent.

Zeke claps his hands together. “Excellent,” then tells you. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Go rinse off, do whatever you need to do to get ready, then meet us back here.”

You don’t dawdle, doing exactly what you’re told. The restroom is obviously for multiple people, a few stalls with cheap curtains to block you from view. You make quick work of bathing so that you’ll have time to prepare yourself, starting the process of stretching yourself while under the spray. With no idea how large Colt might be, and taking into account that he might be completely clueless about female anatomy, you make sure to work three fingers into your cunt, moving them as best you can until you’re a little loosened up and wet. 

When you return to the conference room, you’re just in a towel, folded clothes under your arm and placed in an empty chair. 

“Easy access,” Galliard smirks. “Good call.” You squeak when he slaps your ass then sit on the edge of the table as you’re directed to. 

Most of them have shed their boots and jackets, looking a little more casual now. It doesn’t put you at ease—if anything, it makes you think the others will get a little more involved than Zeke originally let on, and the thought alone is enough to overwhelm you. 

It takes some prompting for Colt to muster the courage to approach you. The others scoot to the edges of the room, giving the two of you center stage. It's daunting, but you do your best to forget about them, to focus on the nervous blond in front of you. 

Spreading your legs, you pull him by the shirt to stand between them then look up at him through your lashes and ask, "Am I allowed to kiss you?" You can never assume. Everyone has different rules. 

When you're with Reiner, he has his mouth against yours more than he doesn't, Galliard will nip and suck against every part of you that isn't your mouth, and the closest Zeke gets to your mouth is prying it open to spit on your tongue. 

Naturally, Colt looks to his War Chief for answers, but Zeke just shrugs. "Your choice, big guy. You're the one calling the shots."

Colt contemplates for a little while but eventually nods and swallows. "Uh, yeah. That's okay, I guess."

He seems to feel just as awkward as you do about this whole situation, would also probably prefer for it to happen in private, but you imagine he's doing everything in his power to show that he's worthy of inheriting Zeke's Titan. He's basically in the same boat as you. 

Reaching up, you lace your fingers behind his neck and pull him to you, pressing your lips to his slowly, softly, trying not to spook him too much. 

After gaining as much experience as you have over the last year or so, it's rare for you to feel shy when getting intimate. Three of the other people in that room have seen everything there is to see about you, your most private of body parts, your most visceral, primal reactions. You have nothing to hide any more. 

Colt is stiff against you. His hands are still by his sides, lips firm but unmoving. 

He has no idea what to do. It's almost disappointing, knowing you're about to spend the evening teaching this kid, fresh faced, twenty years old at most and completely clueless. 

You're saved when a gruff voice makes you pull away: "Alright, this is hard to watch." Reiner sits up and rubs his eyes, then swings his leg over the chair to stand and walk over. "Grice, have you ever even seen anyone kiss before?"

Cheeks turning red, Colt moves out of the way, stuttering out "W-well yeah, but I never watch." 

The taller man takes the vacant space between your legs, and you inhale sharply when he slides a large hand to the back of your head, tilting your face even further upward. Reiner kisses you in a way that makes your head spin. He has that desperate taste he always has, and even without opening your eyes, you can tell he's frowning. But his hand is cautious, careful not to tug your hair just like he's careful not to knock his teeth into yours when he parts your lips with his. 

"There we go," Zeke laughs, clapping twice and cheering, "'Atta boy, Braun!" 

Reiner's tongue dances with yours in a heated back and forth for a few seconds before he pulls back. He doesn't smile, but he does sigh in a thoughtful manner before turning to Colt and pointedly telling him, "That's how you kiss a woman."

Reiner softly scratches the back of your head in a fond gesture, then steps away and motions for Colt to try again. 

He's slightly more confident this time around, starting off slowly at first but eventually pushing against you harder and harder until it's a little much, and you just barely push at his chest to get him to let up. He replaces pressure with tongue, probing and curious but not awful. 

"Undo her towel, Grice. Get a move on," Galliard demands. 

Colt reaches up with a shaky hand, breathing through his nose while keeping his lips attached to yours as he pulls at the loose knot just above your breasts. The material falls and pools around you on the table, and before he can be criticized again, you grab one of Colt's hands and place it on one of the perky mounds. You move your fingers over his, showing how you like to be massaged then guiding him to your nipple. 

"Oh, this is very romantic," Zeke drawls, snapping his fingers to get someone's attention then addressing, "Pock," who grunts in response. "You're a tit man, right? Your turn to show him how it's done." 

The sound of a chair scraping on the floor rings throughout the room, but instead of pushing Colt out of the way, Galliard stands on the other side of the table behind you, bends forward, then grabs you by the hair to pull you down. The breath is knocked out of you as your back hits the table, and you blink up at the redhead in surprise. 

Upside down, your face is about level with his hips, maybe a foot away from his pelvis, but before you can dwell on it, Galliard's rough hands are on your tits, groping, massaging, then pinching your nipples so that you arch and moan. 

"Know I probably shouldn't like it so much, but you sound so pretty, baby," he growls, flicking over the hardened buds then squeezing again. 

"We're all devils here. You can like it as much as you want," Reiner gruffs. 

"Justifying your own feelings?" Zeke snarks. 

You aren't able to see or hear Reiner's response, too busy whining as Galliard starts to slap your tits over and over, making the flesh burn and sting. 

Porco groans, "Mm, love that bounce," hitting them a few more times then stopping and allowing you to take a shuddering breath. 

Your body is hot all over, especially your chest, and your pussy is starting to throb. After playing with yourself in the shower, the heated kiss you shared with Reiner, and now the abuse Galliard just showered on your tits, you're starting to get restless, ready to be filled with something. 

"While I'm right here, m'gonna show you somethin' else, Grice."

Galliard grips your upper arms and slides you closer to him on the table, then undoes his pants and pulls his cock free. As soon as you feel the tap on your lips, you open up for him, relaxing just in time for him to shove his length over your tongue and into the tight sleeve of your throat. 

And, pride actually wells up inside of you. That hardly ever happens. 

There's no time to acclimate really, your only choice being to just lay and take it, so you do, choking and gagging around Galliard's cock as everyone else watches. Tears stream down the sides of your face, but you feel them get wiped away and open bleary eyes to find Pieck peering down at you, soft hands catching the drops as she coos, "You're doing so good, love."

You squirm on the table, start to rock your hips into nothing—no one—in desperate need of friction now. 

"You want something stuffed in that pussy?" Zeke calls out. 

The vibration of your responding whine makes Galliard curse and thrust into your throat until your forehead is pressed against his heavy balls. Strings of spit leak from the corners of your mouth. You try to slurp and suckle, but the steady pistoning of Galliard’s hips just keeps pushing more out. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Colt, you wanna go for it, or do you wanna watch first?” Zeke questions.

“Um, I—I’ll watch first, I think.”

“Good choice. See how it’s done before diving in.”

You’re barely aware of the conversation around you, mouth full of cock, gentle hands on your face. Pieck must not be fazed by being so close to her comrade’s privates because she just keeps stroking and praising you, like she thinks you might break or lose it. 

There are fingers on your wet folds, spreading them apart, then the harsh sound of spitting before a glob of thick fluid lands in your pussy. Zeke smears his saliva over your clit, and you buck under his touch, moaning when two thick digits are pushed into your heat all at once. Your cunt spasms around the intrusion, getting used to it as he continues the job you’d started in the shower. 

“I don’t always do this sort of thing just ‘cause I like the way she feels all tight and tense on my dick, but if you don’t want her to whine as much, I’d advise prepping her with your fingers or mouth.”

You squirm and writhe, the glide of his fingers getting easier with every thrust as your hole drools slick onto the table beneath you. Zeke’s palm grinds against your clit, pressure and friction where you want it most for half a second before it disappears—comes back, disappears—until you’re forcing yourself down on his hand. 

He lets out one of his standoffish little chuckles as you slide up and down Galliard’s length and fuck yourself on Zeke’s fingers, but the delicious sensation disappears entirely when Zeke pulls out, probably to work himself out of his pants, then presses the blunt head of his cock against your clenching hole. He pushes the tip in only to pull it back out, tap it against the swollen bundle of nerves a few times, then finally pushes in all the way. 

You’re a little too far up on the table now, and Zeke doesn’t bother warning you or Galliard as he tugs you back down to better situate you on his cock, causing the other man to slip out of your mouth.

“Fuck man, I was getting close!”

Without a care in the world, Zeke shrugs him off, tells him, “Come on her face or something then, I don’t give a fuck.”

Your voice comes out hoarse as you moan for all of them to hear, teary eyes cracking open to see Galliard step back and lean against the wall behind him. His fist is tight around his shaft, but he’s pumping himself slowly, like he’s suddenly pacing himself despite just having fucked your throat raw. 

A rough pinch to your nipple brings your eyes to Zeke, blond hair hanging in his face, glasses slipping down his nose. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, but other than that, he’s basically fully clothed. He’s flushed from his neck down to his chest, jaw barely hanging open as his eyebrows raise. He’s certainly enjoying himself, and you can’t say you aren’t because the drag of his thick cock in your pussy is incredible. 

Your head lolls to one side and you find Colt staring at you with wide eyes, watching the way his superior sheathes himself in you over and over. It makes you blush, so you turn to the other side, see Reiner posted up in the corner, about half hard in his pants as he watches your face. 

Mouth dropping open, you shut your eyes, trying to will away the skin-prickling sensation of being watched. You raise your arms above your head, hands dangling off the other end of the table, and Pieck takes them, squeezing once before lightly running nimble fingers over your sensitive skin.

You’ve never been with her, not that you’d be opposed. She’s very pretty and seems kind enough. But you had guessed you weren’t exactly her type. Now, though, you second guess yourself since she seems more than content with touching you. 

The painful squeezes of Zeke’s fingers are batted away, replaced by the ghost of stimulation on your sore nipples. Pieck rubs over one so lightly you hardly register it, but it still shoots right to your pussy, makes you clench around Zeke. 

He’s holding you by the hips now, pulling you onto his cock, and it goes like this for a while. At some point, the wet sound of Galliard jacking off fades, but you doubt he’s come; he’s typically quite vocal when he climaxes. 

Zeke never lets up, fucking deep and fast and right over the spot that makes you leak until he suddenly pulls out and shoots strings of hot cum onto your thighs and the table between them. 

“You don’t… Inside?” Colt speaks up.

Rubbing his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, Zeke answers, “Never. That’s preference, though. I just don’t want any accidents to happen.”

You would remind him that you go to the medic after every encounter you have with the Warriors to get checked out, given an unpleasant medicine that leaves you sick for a few days, but it’s hard to think straight right now. 

Before Colt can move toward you again or any more questions can be asked, Galliard is rounding the table, cock in hand once again, shouldering Zeke out of the way so that he can bury himself in your pussy. He’s a shorter length than the man who was in you just moments ago, but a little thicker. Veiny and curved upward, Galliard always feels good inside of you. Unfortunately for you, he’s basically been edging himself since you were pulled from him, so he doesn’t last long at all. 

Unlike Zeke, Galliard has no qualms about coming inside of you. You feel his seed fill you, mixing with your own wet arousal and making you drip with it when he pulls out. 

“Couldn’t help myself,” he grins before giving your pussy a slap, making you push more of his cum out. 

You hear someone suck in a deep breath, and Colt slowly shuffles over to you. He stares at your throbbing cunt for a while, raising a timid hand to stroke over now messy folds, and you let out a mewl, a very soft, “Please…”

Pieck places a tender kiss at your hairline that makes your heart jump into your throat, such a kind gesture as she murmurs against you, “You’re doing so well for them.”

“Can I—” You blink up at her face, floating upside down over yours. “Can I do anything f-for you, Pieck?”

She shows another one of those smiles, the kind that’s hiding a little something, and she shakes her head, wavy, black hair flowing over her shoulders. “I’m just enjoying watching. You’re very pretty to look at.”

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond, so you just let her keep touching you, keep cooing and doting. You’ll never say no to affection like this. 

Colt doesn’t have any trouble finding your entrance, which is a relief. He lines himself up and pushes in painfully slowly, panting the entire time and letting out one very satisfying, “O-oh, shit.”

“Feels good, doesn’t she?” Zeke hums.

Colt nods, arms beginning to shake on the table. He seems to be holding himself back, whether it’s from coming or fucking into you is a mystery, but eventually he bottoms out and stays still save for his trembling. It isn’t uncomfortable, but you do feel very full, his hips flush against yours, cockhead nestled right up against your cervix. If he was any longer, you would definitely be in pain. 

“Grice, you can move, you know,” Galliard jabs, but Colt just shakes his head. 

“One second. Lemme just…” He shifts his hips some, not thrusting as much as grinding into you, and you cry out when he presses against that far wall. 

You can feel Galliard’s cum leaking down the curvature of your ass, pooling with whatever of Zeke’s is left on the table. You’re so wet, noisy when Colt finally does start slowly pulling out and pushing in. The squelches echo in the conference room and make you cringe, but Zeke seems to appreciate it as he hums, “Listen to that sloppy pussy.”

“Like music to my fuckin’ ears,” Galliard adds.

Colt has trouble keeping an even pace, his hips stuttering often, but the ridge of his cock strokes over the sensitive spot inside you—the one that makes you drool and babble—almost every time. Your muscles clench around him, changing the sensation for both of you, and when that rhythm becomes even more erratic, you know he’s close.

“Fuck, fuck, I—”

“Just add to the mess. We’ll clean up later,” Zeke reassures him.

Colt’s eyes find yours for the first time since he started fucking you, searching for something like permission, so you nod and show a lazy grin.

“It’s okay, you can come in me.”

That sends him over, a strangled gasp ripping from his throat as he milks himself in your cunt. You can feel the pressure of building liquid inside you, pushing on your insides, but it wanes when Colt pulls out. 

You feel swollen and used at this point, but your core is still hot with the desire to come. There’s a chance you won’t, especially now that Colt has finished, but you can always get yourself off in the privacy of your quarters if need be. 

The freshly fucked blond receives a couple slaps on the back, some patronizing comments from his War Chief, and you take the time to just breathe and melt into the table, enjoying the way Pieck is stroking your hair now, smiling at the other Warriors. 

Your eyes are just about to close when you see Reiner making his way over. He stands between your legs for a while, just looking over the damage, the slight discoloration of your chest, your raw nipples, mouth swollen from Galliard’s cock, then finally your used pussy. 

His fingertips brush over sensitive skin, making you shudder, and you nearly cry when he asks, “You ready to get yours?”

You nod, sucking in an unsteady breath. Reiner mouths the word, “Okay,” then unbuckles his pants and pushes them down to his thighs, and the tears really do start to gather in your eyes now because Reiner is big, and you're already getting sore from three other cocks you've taken. 

He rubs his hands up your thighs, tells you, “Wrap your legs around my waist,” which you somehow manage even though they’re weak with numbness. 

Reiner doesn’t push in just yet, though you can feel his warm cock rubbing between your engorged lips. Instead, he slides his arms under your back and lifts you, turning so that he’s sitting on the table and you’re in his lap, ankles still crossed at his lower back. 

“Just go at your own pace.” His voice is quiet, his mouth hovering just over yours, and here, like this, you almost forget about the others. 

You lift yourself just enough to line his tip up with your leaking entrance then lower yourself onto his cock inch by inch. His girth stretches you, always burns just a little, even when you’re well prepared. 

Your spongy walls make room for him, sucking him in even as you whine at his size. He waits for you to get settled, for you to start rocking, and only then does Reiner start moving. His cheeks are pink, light brown eyes nearly taken over by blown pupils, but the shift of his hips is slow and deliberate, hitting just where you need him to.

He keeps one hand at your back to help you balance, but his other moves down to press on the puffy flesh at the apex of your cunt. It forces your clit to rub against the coarse hairs on his pelvis, and you throw your head back as you finally, finally get that friction you were craving. 

Reiner lowers his face to your chest, warm tongue laving over one nipple in a soothing manner as it pebbles against the muscle. He moves to the other and does the same, suckles on it softly so that you dig your nails into his back.

You leak with every shallow thrust, various fluids getting pushed from your wet pussy, and the closer you get to your orgasm, the worse it gets. You squirt first, a juice thinner than your slick arousal dribbling from you and coating Reiner’s thighs. 

“Fucking—” He cuts himself off by kissing you, obviously uncaring of the fact that you had someone else’s cock in your mouth maybe half an hour ago. He licks into you, holding your body tight against his as your muscles tense, thighs rigid around his waist. You climb and climb, gut hotter and hotter until you reach your peak and moan into his mouth. 

Your hips start moving on their own accord, a little faster as you squeeze the thick cock inside of you until your body grows tired enough to stop. Reiner keeps the same, slow pace, rumbles, “Just keep squeezing me, and I’ll come soon.”

So, you do, clenching around him and trembling the more overstimulated you become because you’re so sensitive and so swollen and so full. Every part of you aches. Every shift of his cock makes you whimper, but when Reiner finally spills inside of you, holding you down on his spurting cock, you sigh and slump against him. 

You breathe heavily, and so does Reiner, his chest, now damp with sweat, rising and falling against yours. His shirt chafes against your nipples, making you hiss, but you’re too exhausted to move.

“Is that what sex is always like with you two?” Galliard scoffs. “That was some soft shit. I’m a little disgusted.”

If you were a little more lucid, you’d consider calling him out and announcing to the room how wanton he gets alone in the bedroom, but your brain is functioning at minimal capacity right now.

“Oh, leave them alone, Pock,” Pieck chides, and you glance across the table at her with tired eyes to find another one of those smiles on her face. “Everyone deserves some softness, especially this little angel after the way you guys treated her.”

“Didn’t treat her any differently than I normally do,” Zeke says, voice slightly muffled as he speaks around a new cigarette. 

“In that case, I offer my condolences,” Pieck tells you, pulling a little snort from you. 

“S’fine,” you slur. “I’m just happy to service the Warriors.”

Galliard rolls his eyes. Pieck hums thoughtfully. Zeke smirks. Reiner lets his head fall to your shoulder.

And, Colt croaks out a honestly endearing, “Well, I, uh, appreciate the service,” which makes you and all of his superiors laugh. 

It’s not an easy job, this one you've been given. You try to be grateful for the opportunity, but most days end with you struggling to find your own self worth.

Tonight is different, though. It’s rare that you feel genuinely appreciated, but right now, sitting in Reiner’s lap with Colt looking at you in both embarrassment and gratefulness, you feel that maybe you're worth something.

[auroracalisto]

in life and death

summary: in the events of dark phoenix, the reader is reunited with her twin brother charles, even though she tried her hardest to stay away from him after their mother sent her away and explained to charles that she had died, all the while trying to not let erik freak out when he realizes that he is, indeed, in love with someone else related to charles.  

pairing: erik lehnsherr x female reader, twin! charles x twin! reader

word count: 2k words

warnings: canon divergence, reader is charles twin (i said she vaguely looks like him, but i don’t describe any physical appearance other than that), cussing, typical jean grey shit, not any actual violence, sibling banter towards the end, lots of death mentions, usage of mutation abilities (reader is able to manipulate anatomy, and in a way, place “blocks” in people’s minds for certain things, therefore manipulating their anatomy to block off certain parts of their memories), abusive relationship with reader’s mother in this for sure, talks of funeral and gravestone.  

a/n: i still haven’t watched dark phoenix so i took some creative liberty and loosely read the wikipedia page.  also, this was written as a request for @nuclearpizza84​.  i hope you enjoy :) if it’s not to your liking, please be sure to let me know and i’ll see what i can do!

The red haired woman had just appeared, introducing herself as Jean Grey.  Erik immediately welcomed her into your home, without batting an eye your way.  An uneasy feeling washed throughout your body, but you thought nothing of it until Jean started asking Erik for his help—that she had once again done something bad, and she didn’t know how to fix it. 

Your fingers tapped repeatedly on your leg as you watched Erik from where you sat.  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” you mumbled, watching him.  Erik always tended to help any of those who came to his door.  While not necessarily a bad thing, sometimes it was.  With times like this, you knew that there was something wrong. 

Jean knew what you were thinking—your discomfort with her was practically radiating off of your body.  But she didn’t care.  She didn’t come here for your help.  She didn’t even know who you were, other than the fact that you looked strangely similar to Professor Xavier.  She had come for Erik, knowing that in the past, he had been rogue himself and had dealt with Charles.  She had nowhere else to go, other than Genosha.  The only place where mutants could go for refuge, if they were running from even the school. 

Erik sighed softly at you.  He reached over and gently took your hand.  “I know Jean.  I’m going to help her,” he said.  “I’ve no reason to turn her away.”

You just nodded, casting a glance towards the woman.  Nothing more was said between you and your fiancée.  You just watched, listening to them talk.  Jean kept looking in your direction, and you didn’t quite understand why.  Perhaps it was best that Charles did not know where you were—then, people like Jean wouldn’t come knocking on your door, asking for your brother’s help when you hadn’t been around him in years.  You stayed in your mind for some time, eventually standing up to go and sit your glass of water back in the kitchen. 

That was, until the sound of helicopters came from outside of your home.  You tensed.  That didn’t happen often, unless something was wrong.  You looked straight at Jean. 

“What are they here for?” you asked the woman. 

She didn’t answer, going to the door.  She opened it up, looking at what was going on.  Your heart pounded in your chest. 

“Erik,” you spoke, walking over to your lover. 

The speaker attached to one of the helicopters, proclaiming that Jean needed to peacefully surrender—or else, of course, they would use force. 

When Jean attacked, you knew it was over.  Erik wouldn’t help—something that you were hoping would happen, but you never knew how soon it would have happened.  Fate just seemed to be on your side at that moment, but you knew that it was only a matter of time before Erik decided to uproot you and return to America, helping your brother out with yet another deadly endeavor—even if Erik had no idea that the two of you were actually related.  With your ability, you had made it to where Charles would not recognize you, and you made sure that Erik would never be able to make out the similarities that you and your twin shared.  It was only right—after years of your brother believing you were dead; you did not want to bring that raining down on his shoulders.

—

The news reached the mutant refuge, and Erik did not talk to you for some time.  Raven was dead, and she had been killed by Jean herself.  Erik was angry.  He had once loved Raven—you knew of this.  It wasn’t hard to see how he still cared for his friend, especially in a moment like this.  Who wouldn’t still care for someone they spent so long with?  You understood where his anger came from, and you stayed there, waiting for him to say something to you—anything. 

In his fit of rage, Erik looked you dead in the eye.  “I’ll kill her.”

You parted your lips to talk, but you didn’t know what to say that would calm him.  You reached out and took his hand.  “We can’t go alone.  You saw how powerful she was…”

There was no point in trying to stop him.  Once Erik had something in his mind, it took him a long time to detach himself from it. 

“That’s fine by me,” he snarled, taking in a deep breath.  “Pack a bag.  We’re leaving, tonight.”

—

Being surrounded by other mutants, you never once thought that you would have to look out for familiar faces.  But Charles stood there, trying to stop people from fighting. 

“There is no point in it,” you heard him say from a distance.  “You’re only hurting yourselves by fighting each other.”

You scoffed.  He was always like that—even when you were children.

That being said, it had been years since you last saw him.  The mental block you applied to him made it to where he would never be able to recognize you as his sister.

At a young age, your mother had split the two of you apart, recognizing that two children exactly alike had not been something she wanted.  So, she kept the boy, and got rid of the girl, quickly explaining to Charles that his sister was dead.  But now, standing there, you wondered why he never came to find you.  You were obviously alive, and you knew you weren’t making it easy on him—but why in the world had he never even tried? 

Charles never once came to Erik, asking for help to find you.  You were alive and well, that much was given.  A part of you also remembered how your mother was.  It was likely that she decided to make things easier on Charles and instead of saying she just gave you away, you had died.  In a moment of self-pity, you wondered if your mother had made you a fake grave.  Maybe you should visit it one day, see if Charles visited it often. 

Erik had long run inside the building that Jean had ran into earlier.  Charles had tried to talk some sense into him, but to no avail. 

And for a moment, you felt your block on Charles slipping.  You were tired.  And the fact that you were so close to him did not help.  Your block was breaking.  His eyes locked with yours and immediately, he recognized you.  Of course, he did. 

“Oh shit,” you breathed out. 

“[Your name]?” Charles blinked slowly, staring at you in disbelief.  “How are you here?  What—”

“Don’t.”

“What—what do you mean, don’t?  How are you here?  I’ve—you’re dead,” he squeezed his eyes shut.

You sighed softly.  “I’m very much alive, Charles.”

“But mother said—”

“—mother said a lot of things.”

Charles pursed his lips.  You were right. 

“Alright.  We can talk about this later.  But please.  We need to help Jean, not hurt her.  She’s scared.  She doesn’t understand how to control what’s going on.  She hasn’t meant to hurt anyone—”

“—she killed your sister,” you said.  You knew all about how Raven was his adopted sister.  Nothing against her, of course.  It was all your mother’s doing.  Who knew that Erik always had a thing for people related to Charles?

He took in a deep breath.  “Yes.  She killed who I grew up with as a sister. But she did not mean to.  We did not know how to handle her.”

“Oh, and what changed?”

“Being this way is not going to help anyone.  She is going to kill Erik, unless we all agree to stop—”

“—sorry, Charles, no can do.”

—

Time seemed to speed up, and hours promptly passed by.  The alien, Vuk tried her hardest to get everything from Jean.  In the process, disaster struck. 

You had just reunited with Erik when you were struck in the shoulder with a stun weapon.  As you fell to the ground, you heard Erik shout.  Then, everything went black.

Waking up, you slowly took in your surroundings.  You were on a train.  Without a clue where you were heading, you took the time to breathe deep.  Erik was to your right.  You could feel him moving around—he must have already been awake, and now, he was struggling to get out of the restraints. 

Charles sat straight across from you, his eyes dead set in a glare pointed at the ground. 

You cleared your throat, resting your head on the wall behind you.  “Charles.”

He said nothing.  

You looked over at Erik, who shrugged.  “He’s been silent ever since we were captured.”

“Were you not shot—”

“—no.  Collar.  You’ve got one now, too.”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“They put it on me while I aided you,” he chuckled softly.  “I suppose it is my own fault…”

“None of this would have happened had you allowed me to talk some sense into her,” Charles spoke, looking up at his old friend.  “Had you not attacked her; she would have been calm.  She was scared, Erik.  I’m sure she still is.  I can feel her.  She is at war with herself, and you have only aided in making her feel worse.”

“Could you feel me?” you asked.

“Quite impossible when you make it difficult for me to recognize you,” Charles immediately recounted.  “How did you manage that?  You’ve the ability to just manipulate minds?  Nothing more, nothing less?  I only felt you when your block dissolved.  What does it take for it to do that?”

Charles was angry.

You stared him down.  He returned your gaze.

For a set of twins that had been apart for decades at this point, you acted as if you had never once been split up. 

“I can alter anatomy.”

“Can you now?” he scoffed.  “You know.  I would have thought that perhaps you would understand that not everyone is inherently evil.  She is still good, [Your name].”

“Why would I understand that?”

Charles sighed.  “Despite not being able to recognize you while you still had that going on, had I just focused, I could read your mind.  You’ve been engaged for how long, Erik?  To my sister?”

Erik blinked rapidly.  “What?”

This, was of course, news to him.  You never said anything about it.  Charles was about to open a new can of worms that would blow up in your face after all of this was said and done. 

“Nothing,” you shot at Erik.  “It’s nothing.  Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re siblings?” Erik asked. 

“Stop it,” you groaned. 

Charles clenched his jaw and he looked away from you. 

“Look,” you began, frowning.  “I’m sorry.  I should have reached out to you sooner.  More specifically, when I heard that mother died.  But I didn’t.  I didn’t know where to start looking—”

“—I never left the house.”

You looked towards the floor.  “Now I know that.  I should have come sooner.  I should have told Erik and allowed him to tell you.  But I thought that it would hurt more, knowing that mom just lied to us.  To you, really.”

“She told me that you died.  She set up an actual funeral, fit with a coffin and a headstone.  She really played the part,” Charles said.

“I wondered that earlier, but now that you tell me that, it hurts a lot more,” you tried to laugh, as the realization that your mother probably hated you with every fiber in her ran through your head.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry it took… whatever the hell this is for you to realize that I’m still very much alive.”

“Perhaps we can speak about this later,” Charles began.  “We should focus on getting out of here, before something worse happens.”

And of course, Charles had to speak it into existence.  A loud, deafening bang nearly made you scream. 

The aliens were back—and this time, they weren’t about to go easy on anyone. 

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Please Me: Oikawa’s Oasis Pt 2

⚠️THIS FIC IS 18+, MINORS DNI⚠️

Welcome to week 4 of the Please Me Series!  A collaboration with @axoxtxhxh! This weeks theme is Virginity Loss featuring Oikawa and Goshiki!  This weeks fics are broken into 3 parts, check out Part 1 linked in the master list! Please check out Joey’s fic, Guiding Goshiki!  I will link it in the Please Me master list!  

Warnings: swearing, mentions of virginity, drinking, heated dancing, making out, angst

Word Count: 3,600

“Yoo-hoo YN-chan” a voice called for you as you smiled softly, knowing fully well the source of that voice.

“Good Morning Oikawa” you said as you turned to see the cheery-eyed setter running up to you before practice.

“Oh YN-chan, you flatter me so but please, I’ve told you before, call me Torū” he said as he watched you write down notes on your clipboard.

“Hmm oh did you say something Oikawa?” You said laughing a little at the deflated tool on his face.

“YN-chan why must you be so mean to me?” He whined as you chuckled at his complaints.

“Torū I’m only teasing you.  Lighten up” you say as you set your clipboard down, quickly grabbing the teams water bottles to fill up.  

You and Torū had gotten to know each other well the past few weeks. He often stayed late for individual practice, running in to you as you performed your managerial duties.  You often watched him practice or even helped when you could.  He returned the favor by helping you clean up the gym and prepare for the next practice.  It was a nice system and you had become fast friends.

Walking towards the door to the gym, a rogue volleyball came spiraling towards your head. Torū ran quickly to try to stop the ball, hoping his feet would move as fast as his brain.  Before he knew it, he heard a loud  

*SMACK*

He looked up just in time to see you smack the volleyball straight down to the ground, causing it to ricochet off the wall.  

Torū stood in silence as you continued to make your way to the doors to fill up the teams water bottles, acting like nothing happened.  

How did you do that he wonders to himself as he shakes his head returning to practice, making a mental note to question you tonight during your practice.  

Practice ended as you retreated to your office to file your notes and begin cleaning up.  You found yourself looking forward to your new nightly routine with the brow haired setter.  It had been a new and fun addiction to your mundane life.

Walking out of the office, the teams captain stopped you before you headed to the gym to work with Torū.

“Hey YN, you are still coming out with us tomorrow, right?  Should be a lot of fun?” He said smiling at you widely as you just rolled your eyes.

“That’s what you said last time and all I ended up doing was taking care of your drunk ass” you scuff as the captain laughs at you.

“yeah, but I heard Torū is coming” he said smirking at your as your face flushed pink.

“Oh, great so now I have more grown men to babysit” you said excusing yourself as you walked towards the gym.

“Whatever you say, YN-chan” he laughed as you whipped your head towards him, glaring daggers into the man’s skull.

As you approached the gym, you heard the all too familiar sounds of balls ricocheting off the floor.  One thing you admired deeply about Torū was his dedication to the sport of Volleyball.  You knew how much he loved it.  It was his passion.  Something you shared with the tall man.

“YN-chan!” Torū shouted as you set your bags down, heading to the gym floor to meet the setter “I was wondering if you could help me with my sets tonight?”

Confused, you nodded as he took his position by the net.  It’s not like you had never helped a setter before but what Torū had in mind was different.

Tossing the ball up to him, he set it with pinpoint accuracy, the ball falling perfectly in front of the net.

You watched in awe at his perfect form as he looked back at you, as if he was waiting for you to say something.  

“Was that too long?” He said as you turned your head slightly sideways, confused as to what he was asking.  

“It honestly looked perfect” you said, thinking he was just asking for feedback on his sets.

“Then why didn’t you spike?” He said as you figured stiffened “you are a spiker are you not?”

You looked at him shockingly.  How did he know you had been a spiker in high-school and college?

“I-umm, well I was a spiker yes, but that was years ago.  How did you know?” You said to him as he looks at you smiling “wait have you been stalking me?”

Torū laughs as he walks to retrieve the ball from the floor “actually that ball you hit earlier today that was headed towards your face, you have quite an arm YN.”

You blushed as you realized exactly what he was talking about.  You honestly hadn’t thought about hitting the ball earlier, it was just a habit. Volleyball was a dangerous sport for bystanders and you worked hard to remain vigilant of your surroundings.

“Well actually I did play in high-school and college a little” you said as you walk towards him “but that was years ago.  I’m way out of practice.”

“Not from the looks of the spike YN.  You have a lot of power” he gushed as a light blush formed on your face.  It had been years since someone had complimented your skills as a player.  

“So, what do you say YN, let me set for you” he said as you smiled, grabbing the ball and running to the back end of the court.

Taking your place, you tossed the ball to Torū as he sent a perfect set towards your running approach.  You leaped into the air as you felt the ball graze your palm, smacking hard onto the other side of the court.

You smiled as you saw Torū smirk at your successful kill.

“Nice Kill YN!” he said as you went back to the line, grabbing another ball from the basket, sending it up in a nearly identical toss.  

You nailed kill after kill with Torū as you continued to practice into to the night.  Finally, out of breath and balls, you hunched over trying to catch your breath as Torū approached you, handing you a bottle of water.  

“YN-chan, you must have been on hell of a spiker” he says as you drink from your water bottle “those kills were fantastic!”

“Honestly it was your sets Torū!  The skill you have is amazing!  I can see why you are the starting setter” you say as Torū smiles at your compliments.  Compliments weren’t new for Torū.  He had been known as The Great King through his high school career and was praised for his ability to adapt so quickly to various spikers.  However, for some reason, you compliment struck a cord with him, making his heart beat face quickly.  

You and Torū wrapped up practice as you cleaned up the balls, put away the nets and mopped the floors. Torū waited for you by the gym entrance as you locked the doors and headed home.

“Are you going out with the team tomorrow YN-chan?” Torū probed, hoping your response would be yes.

“Probably” you sighed “someone’s got to keep tabs on those idiots.”  

Torū chuckled as he walked you back your place.  He watches you intently as you turned heading to your place.  You waved as he began to walk back to his place.  

He sighed softly, thinking about your time practicing with him.  Suddenly, two arms grabbed around him as he felt a strong hug embrace him from behind.

“Thank you Torū!  I had so much fun practicing tonight” you say as you embraced the tall setter from behind.  Torū smiled as he grabbed your hands in front, holding them tightly.

Letting go, you run back to your home, waving frantically as the Torū looked on with a soft smile.  He was definitely falling for the team manager.

Torū paced back and forth in his room.  Why was he so nervous?  He was never this nervous.  It wasn’t like you were going on a date.  It was just a fun night out with the team. Nothing more.  

He grabbed his phone, dialing the only person he thought might help ease his nerves.

“Oi shittykawa, what is it?  I’m busy studying for an anatomy test!” his best friend, Iwaizumi Hajime says as Torū gasps at his friend’s bluntness.

“Iwa-chan!  Can’t I just call to say I miss you?”  

Iwaizumi glared thought the screen at Oikawa as he tried his hardest not to lose his cool.

“Alight I’m hanging up…”

“No wait Iwa!  I- I need some advice” Toru said as he tried not to show his nervousness.  

“Alight crappykawa out with it, I don’t have all night!” Iwaizumi said as Torū gulped.

“Well- umm I was wondering, you see there is this woman…” Toru said rubbing the back of his head.

Iwaizumi dropped his pencil as he looked to Oikawa in shock.

“The Great Torū Oikawa is asking me for advice of women” he said smugly as he tried to keep from laughing.

“IWA-CHAN PLEASE” Oikawa whined as Iwaizumi laughed at his friend.

“Let me guess, the team manager?” Iwaizumi said as Toru looked at him stunned.

“How did you-“

“Oikawa I looked the team up online and damn, she’s hot. I’m not surprised you are attracted to her” he says as Torū looks at him “just tune on your Oikawa charm like you always do.  It’s always helped you in the past-”

“This one is different Iwa.  Something about her is special. She doesn’t berate me or tease me. She genuinely nice and sweet.  She- she makes me feel something different” he says as Iwaizumi looks at him intently

“Boy this one really has you, doesn’t she?  Damn I never thought I’d see the day.  Just tell her how you feel.  Maybe she feels the same way?”  

“It’s not the simple Iwa-chan!  You know-”

“Jesus shittykawa stop being embarrassed about being a virgin!” Iwaizumi shouts at Torū shushes him loudly.

Knowing Torū like Iwaizumi did was both a privilege and a curse.  He knew how popular Toru was with the girls in high school but he also knew Torū only dedication was to his team and volleyball.  Volleyball was his life and while he had many girlfriends, none of them ever seemed to compare to volleyball.  

“Iwa, do you know how embarrassing it is to be a virgin at 22?” He said as he watched Iwaizumi shake his head  

“Dude you act like you are the only virgin in the entire world?  Just take it slow. Feel out the situation. Talk with her.  It’s not hard” Iwaizumi said he Oikawa nodded slowly as Iwaizumi shook his head  

“I’ve got to go, good luck Loverkawa” Iwaizumi smirked as he went to hang up the call with Torū.

Toru just smiled as the call ended with his longtime best friend.  Iwa-chan was right!  He would just take it slow.

The club was loud as Torū approached his team members, half of which were already two sheets to the wind.  He laughed as many of them awkwardly danced their way around the club, finding anyone possible to dance with.

He looked up, seeing you standing by the bar, clinking shot glasses with the captain of the team.  He wandered over to you as you gulped down your shot, setting your glass on the counter.

“TORŪ” you shout as you run over and embrace the setter.  Oikawa laughs as he grabs onto your waist as you hug him tightly. He can smell the alcohol on you as you back away, placing your hand on his strong chest!  

“Take a shot with me” you scream as the captain shakes his head, watching you pull a flustered Torū to the bar.

“Hey captain” Torū said as the captain nodded, tipping his drink toward the setter “how long had she been like this?”

“Well, she hit the shots pretty hard.  I must say usually YN doesn’t drink like this” he said as Toru watched you lean over the bar to whisper your drink order to the bartender.

You returned shortly with 2 glasses of tequila, handing out to Torū as you clinked glasses, shooting the shot down your already numb throat.  

Torū was much for drinking. He never really had been. He enjoyed the occasional night out but alcohol usually eased with his performance of the court to much.  

“ANOTHER ONE” you shout as Torū laughs at your retreating form, admiring how good you looked in your outfit.  The outfit accentuated your curves perfectly as you ran away to the bar for yet another round of shots.

“She is going to pay for that tomorrow” the captain laughed as Torū nodded in agreement “Well I’m going to go scope out the action.  You coming?”  

Torū couldn’t take his eyes off your form, not even for a second to hear his captains’ words.

“Never mind” the captain smirked as he walked away, leaving Torū to stare at you uninterrupted.

“Torū here” you shout as you hand him another drink, grabbing onto his arm as you gulped down yet another shot of some mystery liquor.

Taking the shot, Torū could feel the shot start to have a affect on him as he began to feel lightheaded and giddy.

“Dance with me Torū” you say pulling him into the busy crowd to an empty space in the middle of the dance floor.

You weren’t really much of a dancer sober but when you drank, your body flowed effortlessly.  You weren’t sure you looked sexy or that you even had good moves but you didn’t care.  You were enjoying yourself to the fullest.  

Torū laughed as he watched you dance, trying to get himself to match your erratic rhythm.  You backed your ass into him, grinding lightly as he grabbed your hips and swayed to the music.

You could feel his grip tighten as you ground harder into his crotch, feeling yourself heat up from the encounter.  Your body straightened up into him as you wrapped your hands around the back of his head as his buried his face into your neck.

Torū could feel the friction between you growing, his lust starting to form as you ground into his pelvis.  He tried his hardest to remain composed as you continued sway your body. His hands gripping tighter with each passing minute.

Feeling bold, you turn around, grabbing onto Torū’s neck as you flattened your body against his. You could feel the erection forming in his pants and you placed your forehead on his.

You were both drunk and feeling good.  The friction caused by the dancing heating your body up quickly as you ground your pelvis harder into his.  You moaned lightly as his head sunk into your neck, placing light soft kisses on your heated body.

Groaning, Torū pulled you closer as he continued to assault your neck, trying hard to maintain his composure. He was feeling so incredibly hot and turned on from watching you move against him. He could barely contain himself.

He pulled away as you looked at him, his eyes locking with yours as you leaned forward, placing a soft kiss upon his lips.  After testing the waters, you pulled away and looked at a completely blissed out Torū.  Hid eyes stating directly into yours as he pulled you in again, this time hastily capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

You kicked his lower lip, asking for entrance into his mouth as you met his wet muscle, battling him for dominance.  Letting you take the lead, Torū groaned as he gripped your hips tightly, trying hard to maintain the little bit of composure he had left.

Pulling away, you both stare at each other, waiting for some sort of reaction.  Looking at him, you open your mouth to speak when Torū beats you too it.

“Let’s go YN” he says as he pulls you towards the entrance, signaling to the team that you two were leaving.  You grabbed a cab as you continued to kiss and make out until you reached Torū’s place.  

Grabbing your hand, he pulled you swiftly, trying to quickly to unlock his apartment.   He threw the door open as he grabbed you, kissing you deeply as he closed the door, pressing you against it.  

Torū was an amazing kisser. His lips were soft and supple, and his tongue was a work of art, moving softly over yours, massaging it gently as you moaned loudly into his mouth.  

You reached for his shirt as you untucked it, pulling it over his head, revealing his hardened abs and chest.

You kissed his chin and neck, sucking soft marks into his pretty neck.  You pushed him towards the couch as he groans, falling onto the coach in one swift motion.  

Torū was feeling amazing. His body was acting on its own, holding you and grinding into you as he tried his hardest to pull a moan from you.

“ahh YN-” he groaned deeply as you hit the sweet spot just below his ears.  He couldn’t believe this was actually happening.  He was going to finally lose his virginity.

“mmhmmm” you say moaning and sucking on the spot as you tried hard to keep from ripping your clothes off and bouncing wildly on his cock.

“I- I need to tell you something” he said groaning as you continued to work your way to his chiseled collarbone and shoulders.

“What is it Torū” you say in-between marking him with your lips, trying your hardest to pull out more of those delicious moans.

“I- I’ve never gone this far before” he says as you suddenly stop, pulling your body up, looking down at him as he watched you intently.

“Wait what” you said sharply as Torū sat up slightly on his elbows.

“I’m a virgin YN” he said as your eyes widened in shock.  A virgin?  This gorgeous man was a virgin!  How? Why?  Your eyes remained widened as you tried hard to comprehend what was going on.  You had never taken anyone’s virginity nor had you ever thought about it.  It made you feel nervous just thinking about it.

Torū stared at you.  He honestly hadn’t expected you to react like this. He didn’t really think it was a huge deal but maybe it was.  His mind began to cloud with self doubt, a thought foreign to one of the best setters.

“YN, I umm- I really want you to be first” he said as he looked up to you waiting for your reaction.

Unfortunately instead of being met with assurance, he was met with a look of self doubt and confusion.  He wasn’t sure what you were feeling as you remained silent, sitting on top of him.

You had grown fond of Torū the past few months.  You enjoyed your time with him and formed a connection that you didn’t have with any other member of the team.  You knew your feeling for Torū ran deeper than just a manager and a player but in this moment, the feeling of uncertainty came rushing in causing you to rethink everything.

You looked at Torū as he waited for your response.  The look on his face was one of nervousness.  This was a huge thing something that wasn’t to be taken lightly in your opinion.

You thought back to when you lost your own virginity. How you had wished the situation and person would have been different. How you felt like you needed to lose it in order to fit in.  Obviously looking back, you knew that your reasons were flawed.  That you wished you would have just waited.  You didn’t want the sake thing for Torū.

“Torū, I-” you stutter as you look at the gorgeous man below you.  You had feelings for Torū.  You cared for him and respected him more than just a teammate and player.

“YN, I only want you” he says as he pushes your hair behind your ears and you stare down at his state.  He looked so innocent, so sweet.  You couldn’t help but be turned on by how amazing he looked.  Unfortunately, the fact remained that you were nervous. Nervous to ruin his first time and make him live with the memories you had of your first time.

You could feel his erection under your ass as he waited for your response.  He was so painfully hard and you knew it.  But still, the doubts and nerves filled you as you tried hard to drown them out.

“I’m sorry Torū” you said getting off him as he watched in confusion as you grabbed your shoes and bag, heading for the front door.

“YN, wait-”he shouted as he grabbed his shirt, pulling it on quickly as he raced towards the door, trying to stop you.  He grabbed your arm, swinging you around he looked into your eyes, hurt and confused.

“I don’t understand YN-” he said as he watched youtrying to figure out what he had done wrong.  Had the fact that he was a virgin really bothered you that much?  

“I have to leave Torū” you said pulling your arm from his grasp as you ran down the hallway, towards the stairwell, throwing the door open as you quickly ran down the stairs, barefoot to the street below, leaving a deflated and crushed Torū in your wake.

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