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mercurysstars · 3 years

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All That Glitters Is Not Gold (part 7)

Summary: Y/n gets hired to be the avengers chief physician and also happens to be an ex assassin.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Needles, swear words, reader getting angry.

A/N: Okay y’all so maybe the reader has slight anger issues.

𝘍𝘪𝘹 𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨.

Y/n suddenly became aware of the very persistent beeping noise in her ear. No matter what she tried she couldn't get it to stop and it was starting to annoy the hell out of her. She cracked her eyes open, the light-flooded her blinding her for a few seconds but her eyes quickly adjusted.

The first thing she noticed was the white plain walls of the Med-Bay. The memories flickered through her head like a flashing light. Y/n looked down to her bandage arm she peeled it back a bit, by looking at her wound she guessed she might have been out a little over a day and a half.

She grabbed the cords attached to her body and yanked them out causing the heart monitor to start flatlining. Wanda shot right up out of a dead sleep at the sound, looking over to make sure her friend was okay. Y/n didn't even know she was there until she spoke up "Oh good you're alive."

Y/n grimaced "Very much so. How long have I been out?"

"A little over a day," Wanda said confirming what she thought. "After FRIDAY alerted us, Barnes got there first to see you all bruised and bloody."

Y/n could tell Wanda was trying to keep the conversation light which she appreciated. She rolled her eyes and chuckled "You should see the other guy."

"Oh trust me I did." Wanda grinned. "I should probably go get bruce though so I'll be right back."

Wanda left her room. Bruce came in and checked her vitals and drew some blood just to make sure there wasn't anything toxic left in her blood. He said that they couldn't use the cradle because it could harm her further so there would be a scar. But Y/n didn't mind much a little bit of meditation and it would be long gone.

Wanda gave Y/n her phone but had to go because Vision needed some help. Y/n was checking some emails and she heard a little sniffle. She looked up to see a red-eyed Peter peaking into her room. She set down her phone and motioned him over. "Hey, Peter what's wrong?"

Peter seemed a little unsure of himself hesitating to speak. He once again sniffles wiping his face with his shirt. In a little voice, he mumbled, "I was scared you were going to die."

Y/n's heart broke into a million little pieces. She didn't know what to say to him. She wanted to comfort him but she didn't know-how. Y/n did the only thing she knew how. Made a joke out of it. "Oh, Pete you know some half-ass assassin can't get the best of me."

Peter chuckled also while hiccuping. He looked down then back at her. He rushed toward Y/n wrapping his arms around her. Y/n slowly wrapped her arm around him the stayed like that for a few seconds. She rubbed his back and patted it. "Can't breathe. Super strength." She choked out.

Peter pulled back standing next to her bed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly "I forgot sorry."

"Don't worry about it. And hey get some sleep I'm the one in the Med-bay and you look worst than me."

Peter promised he would. He gave her a get-well card that he bought with his aunt May. He turned to leave. Bucky was standing in the doorway. Peter told him he could go in and left.

Bucky walked into the room. Y/n's face lit up when she noticed him standing there. "Well look who it is. My savior."

Bucky gave a small chuckle. He looked her over. He can't get the image of her lying limp in his arms out of his head. He doesn't think he's ever been that scared or panicked in his life. It became blurry to him after she passed out. He vaguely remembers carrying her the few feet to the med bay and Bruce ordering someone to get him out. Funny how someone can change your life within a few months of knowing them.

"How are you doing." He breathed out turning serious. He sat in the chair next to her bed setting her clothes on the tabled next to them. He couldn't explain it he felt like it was her fault she was in here. Even if he hasn't done it personally.

"Good, I'm good. How's Alpine? I know she has separation anxiety."

"Well, last night she somehow got into my room again. And right now I think she's with Wanda. I'm pretty sure she sneaks her extra treats."

Y/n and Bucky continued to talk. She genuinely enjoyed his company. There was a feeling that she didn't want to name that started to open up whenever he came around. They decided to watch a movie. Y/n was sitting crisscross applesauce and Bucky had his feet kicked up onto her bed while laying back in the chair.

"You actually liked this movie," Bucky exclaimed. Y/n got to pick the movie and she picked newsies. She thought it was the right thing to choose considering it's about young boys in New York. Though it was a little before his time it was basic Bucky and Steve.

"Yes, it was my favorite movie of my teen years. Believe it or not, I thought their New Yorker accents were really hot."

Bucky laughed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing "No way. They are so bad. They aren't even accurate."

"Hey don't judge. I can't help what my teenage hormones find attractive." She jokingly kicked his feet and he put his arms up defensively.

"I'm not, I'm not. It's just that I don't see you like that type of girl. Back in my day, they use to associate accents with thugs or gangs."

"It's the 21st-century hun. Times are different." She put her non-injured hand on her hip.

Bucky raised his eyebrows and smirked "So I'm seeing."

The buzzing of Y/n phone interrupted their conversation. The caller ID read Anthony Y/n put up a finger to signal to give her a moment. She clicked the accept button and a nervous sounding Tony picked up "Hey Y/n how are you? I heard what happened."

Y/n? He never uses her real. That only means one thing. He did something that could potentially piss her off. She was out for one day and this is what happens. "What did you do Tony."

"Okay look so don't be mad when I tell you. Meet me in the debriefing room in 10." He hung up before she got the chance to object.

Y/n slide to the edge of the bed. She swung her feet over. She attempted to stand up but when she put pressure on her foot she nearly collapsed. Y/n didn't remember hitting her foot or anything but it must have been when she dove over her desk. Bucky put his hands on her waist to steady her. "Woah you okay there doll?"

"Yeah. Can you like?" She made a turning motion with her hand. Bucky immediately stood up and turned around.

Y/n took off her hospital gown. Buck caught a glance of 2 long scars crossing her stomach and what looked like to be a burn on her hip through the reflection of the window. He quickly turned away out of respect. Y/n slide on her pants and cleared her throat. "I'm done."

Bucky turns around and sees her supporting most of her weight on her right foot. "Do you want me to get you crutches or a wheelchair?"

"Why would I do that when I have a perfectly good super soldier right here?"

She hobbled over to Bucky and wrapped her good arm around his waist. He rolled his eyes at her being difficult but put his arm around her. He wouldn't admit it but he secretly liked it and thought it was sweet.

They got down to the debriefing room. Tony was pacing around the front muttering something to himself. Y/n and Bucky took up the last two seats. Y/n's foot was throbbing so she put it on the table to elevate it. They waited a couple of minutes for him to start. Natasha finally decided to speak up getting annoyed "You want to tell us what this was about before you burn a hole in the carpet."

Tony stopped to look at them and started to pace again "Okay so I didn't tell you guys everything. That meeting I had was with the UN. They are trying to get General Ross to be ahead of the Avengers instead of Nick Fury."

He paused to let them take it in. Some were confused, and a couple were mad. "Wait are they just trying to do this since we didn't sign the Sakovia accords?" Steve said what most were thinking.

"See that's what I said but they were talking about some bullshit about us being unorganized and dangerous. And the only way they'd stop it is if someone took a truth serum and I said Y/n would."

Oh, this is why he told her not to get mad. She had to take a deep breath so she wouldn't pull off her shoe and beat him with it. Is he stupid? He's a genius but he can't think before he speaks. "So how does it work?" Clint asked.

"Well, they will hook you up to a lie detector machine and inject you with the truth serum. The way it works is that every time you lie the serum will start to burn and your heart rate will start to accelerate."

"So what all do I have to lie about." Y/n finally questioned. She was chewing her lip in contemplation. She's pulled off worst than this and has had more on the line than this.

"What I know for sure is that I said you've been with us for 2 years, you can't tell them how you got that cut and anything that can potentially get us into trouble. Also, you can't take any strong pain meds."

"So basically she has to have one hell of a poker face," Bucky concluded.

Y/n sighs and rubs her head."How long do I have."

"12 hours until wheels up." Tony better buy me so many boxes of pizza she thinks.

Bucky watched as Y/n sat on the floor crisscross applesauce. Her back is the door and the only light in the room is the light from the hallway in the quinjet. Y/n could hear the soft buzz of Bucky's metal arm with her eyes still close she says "You know you can come in Sarge."

That startles Bucky. He walked into the room and sat on the floor taking up space next to her. He looked at her "I came to tell you we are almost there. Are you nervous?"

Y/n thought for a few seconds. Most people in her position would probably be pissing their pants at this moment. Having to go in front of the United Nations and lie straight to their faces. So she answered truthfully "No, no I'm not."

Bucky was surprised. She was genuine in her answer. If it was him he would be having a near stroke. "Really? Anyway so why do meditate it doesn't actually help with anything."

"Actually it does. It helps with my heart rate and it helps me heal faster."

"Oh?" He looked at her expectingly obviously not believing her.

She kicked out her leg and lifted the pant leg to her suit. The bruise was gone and she rotated her foot and wiggle her toes to prove she wasn't in any pain.

Y/n grabbed his shoulder as a crutch to help her get up and grabbed her heels. Bucky looked up at her. "You know I can't seem to figure you out."

Y/n paused and pursed her lips in thought "Somethings are better off left as mysteries." She patted his shoulder and walked out.

Wanda, Natasha, and Y/n broke off from the rest of the Avengers, having to go to the medical room so she could get a mini medical exam.

The girls walk through security. Natasha dropped all of her weapons in a bin so she could pick them up later. They put a device around Wanda's neck so she couldn't use her powers. Y/n could see how uncomfortable it made her. She walked over to Wanda and whispered "I feel bad you have to wear that. You didn't have to come."

Wanda looked at her and have a small sad smile "What you're about to do is worst than this. It's the least I can do for you helping us."

Y/n nodded to her. Security officers escorted them to the medical room. They had Y/n sit on a bed. They made her pee in a cup, took her blood, and checked her medical history. Natasha was giving her advice. While she knew most things it was still nice having someone coach her through and remind her of it.

When they finished Wanda went to join the rest of the Avengers. Natasha walked her to the door she adjusted Y/n's suit "You've got this. We'll be supporting you in the crowd."

"Thank you Nat for everything really." She hugged her and Natasha gave Y/n's arm a reassuring squeeze.

Y/n took a deep breath. She stepped into the room. The room was a half-circle shape with large windows behind it. In the back were journalists and reporters. And in the front were the UN personnel were located. Y/n walked past the Avengers and took her seat in the middle of the room.

Y/n could feel everyone's eyes on her. She got blinded momentarily from the flashes of the cameras. She looked over to the Avengers. Tony, Bruce, Clint, and Steve at the end. Bucky in the middle. And Sam, Natasha, Wanda, and Vision on the other end. Wanda gave her 2 thumbs up and Y/n smiled back at her.

Staff came over and started to unpack and hook her up to the lie detector machine. They took off the jacket to her suit and connected wires to three fingers on her right hand. They put a blood pressure cuff on her left tricep and inflated it. Ross stood up and cleared his throat being the room's attention on him.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I'm General Ross and I will be doing the questioning on the behalf of the UN."

He turned his gaze to Y/n. "We're going to test the lie detector first." Y/n nodded to him and he began.

"Is your legal name Y/n Y/l/n?"

"Yes." Y/n states.

"True." The man in the chair next to her says.

He looked down at the paper he had in his hand looking for his next question. "Very well. Were you born Y/B/D 1995?"

"Yes."

"True."

"Are you nervous?"

Natasha's words come back to Y/n. Lie once. Lie about something small. So they don't get suspicious. Y/n let her heart rate pick up a bit and purposely avoided eye contact. "No."

"Lie."

"It's okay to be nervous. God knows I would." Ross joked a few people chuckled and Y/n had to physically hold back an eye roll. He thinks he got her but in reality, he's right where she wanted.

He nodded to the staff and they walked over to her and began to prep her. They cleaned a small area of her arm with an alcohol pad. "This might hurt a bit." One muttered.

They stuck the needle into her arm and injected the serum. At first, it felt cool but then it hit her all at once it felt like someone poured a pan of grease on her. Y/n's skin was on fire, she bit her cheek so hard it nearly drew blood.

Bucky watched as Y/n closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If it was anything like the Super Soldier serum he knew it burn. She opened her eyes and if he didn't witness it he wouldn't even know it happened seconds ago.

General Ross walked back to the front and began to speak "We are ready to proceed. Did it hurt? I've never tried it."

"Yes." Like a bitch.

"What role do you play for the Avengers? Tony mentioned you've been there for 2 years."

"I'm their Chief Physician." The second part of his sentence was a statement so she missed lying by an inch.

"True."

He asked questions like that for a while or worded them differently. The questions were getting repetitive and Y/n was getting bored and impatient. She hasn't had to lie yet not that she wanted to. Especially not when she has the truth serum from hell injected in her veins.

"Have the Avengers ever put you in any unnecessary danger?" Ross questioned.

"Never." She replied trying not to bounce her leg.

"True."

"Tell me Miss Y/l/n how did you get that cut? It looks pretty deep." He paused seemingly watching for her reaction.

"My cat. She has some pretty mean claws." Y/n stated without missing a beat. She felt the burn of the serum. It wasn't as bad as the injection but damn did it fucking hurt. Despite that Y/n kept a straight face starting to get annoyed with him. She could hear the flutter of the cameras.

"True."

"Would you consider Miss Maximoff unstable in any way, shape, or form?"

Y/n has to stop her eyes from going wide. What the hell kind of question was that besides rude. It's like he wants her to lash out at him. "No."

The man watches the monitor for a few seconds "True." He finally says.

"Would you consider Mr. Barnes dangerous?"

The audacity of this man. You want to see someone dangerous? Let's see how dangerous I am when I choke you out with this cord that's wrapped around my finger- "No"

"True."

"Are you aware of his past?"

"Very much so. And that where it should stay the past. I don't know what you're trying to get at general."

"True."

"Were you aware that we are starting a search for Lilith and anyone with information on her that doesn't come forward will be sent to the raft? And were you aware that if we find her we are ordered to kill on sight?"

Y/n gets a bitter taste in her mouth. This cannot be happening. She can't freak out right now. She clenched her jaw "No I was not aware of either."

"True."

"Very well that's all." Ross returned to his seat among the UN.

The staff came over and unhooked her from the machine. Y/n felt like she could finally breathe. She stood up and walked out without glancing back. The Avengers did the same meanwhile getting swarmed with paparazzi.

Part 8

My mini taglist

@theashlynbarnes @writingonabrokenwall

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes

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internalsealpanic · 3 years

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Bloody Valentine

Summary: There is nothing more romantic than being stuck in an elevator and arguing about terrible life decisions.

a/n: Blame @littleredwing89 for the existence of this. This is, as of the time I’m posting this, the 4th part (chronologically) to my Dick Grayson/Merc!Reader series. It might be better for you to read part 1 or part 2 before reading this as the angst might hit harder if you do.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injury. Dick and Reader are both hypocrites with no self preservation. It also gets a little heated(?) in the end but nothing really bad.

Main Masterlist

Dick Grayson Masterlist

Direct Sequel to this: Sweetness

This was not how you pictured your Valentine’s Day.

Sure, you weren’t exactly picturing a candle-lit dinner under the stars or slow dancing in the pale moonlight like a Hallmark movie. But you’re not exactly thrilled to be standing outside an emergency room waiting area, clutching an unopened pack of cigarettes and a spare superman shirt, as per the police chief’s suggestion. You tap your foot impatiently as an officer persuades the hospital staff to let you in as you stupidly forgot to bring any of your IDs. The pack of cigarettes crinkles loudly earning you a withering look from a tired-looking mother.

You take a breath.

You settle yourself in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs they point you to. There’s a scream in your throat. And you’re so close to crying. From frustration, anxiety, fatigue? You couldn’t distinguish.

You flick your eyes to them. Finally, the staff relents and you brush past them brusquely.

Your thoughts spiral. The bile lingers at the back of your throat. Burning. Acidic. Dick had lost a lot of blood but not fatal, they told you. The sob that left your mouth was inhumane. You’d almost dropped the phone. Static and white noise vibrated through your eardrums. In a trance-like state, you walk towards the room they kept him in, tunnel vision guiding you to his door. That’s what shock does to you.

All you can think of is him.

You hold the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, glaring at Dick through the rearview mirror, more specifically the white hospital issued sling cradling his arm. You watch Dick as he pretends to not notice the look you’re needling him with. “I spy with my little eye something… green,” he says absentmindedly as he stares out into the flow of traffic.

You keep your narrowed eyes straight ahead, not even thinking about dignifying his little distraction. Right now, all you were seeing was red.

To your right, Dick sighs dramatically, running his hand through his black hair. “So you’re just going to ignore me, huh?”

You’re not but you sure are trying.

Dick as far as you knew was used to silence but he thrived in noise. He lived off of interactions, good or bad. You’re usually an endless supply of banter and playful quips but right now you needed the silence. You needed him to stew in it along with you. This isn’t to say you were particularly ill-tempered or impatient with people, being friends with someone like Dick necessitated a certain level of patience in your opinion. And sure, you had a sharp tongue but you didn’t lose your temper often. But as you sit there next to him with your teeth grinding, fingers tapping, and muscles clenched, you could feel anger coiling under your skin.

He lets out another sigh, this time sounding genuinely exasperated. Good. “(y/n), I don’t know why you’re upset by this- I’m a cop. We both know the risks.”

The coil under your skin burns and you break hard, pointedly ignoring the loud cursing from the driver behind you. Dick chokes and hisses as the seatbelt digs into his chest. You offer him no sympathy or apology as you shoot him such a glare that whatever smartass remark he has for you dies on the tip of his tongue. Considering all the villains and heroes he’s had glaring at him over the years, you consider this an accomplishment. Dick flinches at the intensity of the anger wicking off of you.

You click your teeth and turn back to the road, seeing the light turn green again. “You were issued a gun for a reason,” you say flatly, opting for this instead of the litany of other ways to say ‘you’re a moron’. You’re polite like that.

It’s Dick’s turn to level you a look but unlike him, you don’t flinch, too caught up in your own anger. “Well, I assessed the situation-”

“You were wrong.”

“- and thought I could deescalate,” he says scowling at you through the mirror. Hurt flashes behind his eyes. He looks… like a mix between petulant and offended but you can’t bring yourself to care to do more than give him a withering look, especially not when you still have his bloodied uniform burned into your mind. You admired his determination to keep the peace the way you admired how uncompromising his stance was on second chances. You really did but… It was the second time he nearly died that week and it was just Tuesday.

You stop again. You close your eyes. Loving someone who could someday not come home to you was not a possibility you had prepared for. You just- You just weren’t ready to care for someone so… destructible. You weren’t sure how to process all the anxiety that came with that, so you turned to anger. It just seemed so much more productive and tangible than the shapeless fear anxiety brought you. “And you nearly got shot in the heart,” you deadpan, heart twinging. You taper your emotions down into something more manageable, something easier to compartmentalize. You can tell Dick was going through the same process. Which one of you was having a harder time, you couldn’t tell.

“He barely grazed me.”

“Correction, you have a hole in your shoulder.” Asshole. You bite back the insult, trying not to escalate the argument. You click your teeth but try not to clench your jaw or grind your teeth. The first person to lose their temper loses the argument.

Dick huffs, resting his chin against his uninjured hand. His eyes flicker to you then the window. “I’ve had worse,” he mutters and your stomach tumbles to the ground getting crushed by the tire. Your mind careens. Your lungs fill up with the smell of ash and gun smoke. For a moment, your eyes do not work. For a moment, you’re in a crumbling building. Your eyes watching the billowing smoke curl against the sky. A blast of heat so hot it makes the liquid in your eyes boil breezes past you.

You feel the flick of Yasiri’s tail on your skin and suddenly your foot is on a gas pedal instead of a broken cement floor. You blink, a tar-like emotion is swimming under your skin. You breathe. You glare at the traffic in front of you if only to focus your vision. “You’re impossible,” you snarl.

In the corner of your eye, Dick peels away from the window, anger flashing in his easy-going features. He’s brandishing a sneer. You brace yourself. Dick… Dick Grayson was a mean son of a bitch when he wanted to be and he knew too much of your hurts. You swallow, gripping the steering wheel. Yasiri swims on your skin, surfacing just enough to get ready to strike but also just enough to be hidden.

Dick opens his mouth but no sound comes out. Dick closes his mouth then opens it again and instead of something truly scathing, Dic opts for something more teasing probably realizing that pissing off your driver is a really bad idea. “You say that like you’re any easier to talk to.”

“At least, I know how to listen,” you bite out, voice drawing dangerously low. Dick’s eyes flicker to you, his shoulders bunching up a fraction. You click your teeth and take a calming breath.

Dick snorts, the knot in his shoulders disappearing. “Yeah, right.”

You bristle. Your fingers drum against the steering wheel contemplating on whether to deck him. You should deck him. You should definitely deck him. Would that open up his stitches? It probably would. You mutter a curse. It feels nice rolling off your tongue and it seems Dick feels the same when he curses in Romani. You catalog the word for later use. Dick turns away from you, glaring out the window. You can see the way his eyes narrow through the reflection in the window. The look in his eyes is a complicated mix of irritation and hurt and regret.

You silently agree to table the discussion, at least, until you got off the road.

You brush past the elevator door, tossing your bag to the corner and leaning against the cool wall of the elevator. Dick enters and leans on the opposite wall, gingerly rubbing his shoulder. Neither of you look at each other. You watch the buttons light up as the elevator climbs up. Your skin is still buzzing from emotions. You thought the quiet drive would right them but… it didn’t.

To your side, you hear the restless tapping of feet. You glance over to Dick whose body is vibrating and itching from movement. Seems you weren’t the only one jittery. You smother a snort in your hand. It was cruel but you find the fact that he’ll be so bored while recovering is slightly funny.

The elevator shakes. You’re thrown off balance. There’s a metallic clunking above you. You both lookup. Dick strains his ears to listen. You quiet your breathing so as not to distract him. He sighs and curses, the side of his fist pounding against the wall. “It’s just broken.” You look at him, eyes wide and dumbfounded.

“Are you fucking with me?”

He shakes his head. “I wish,” he scoffs. You scrunch your nose and Dick sneers. “We’re just gonna have to wait, I guess.” And you press yourself against your wall. “Wonderful.”

You both stew in silence. “I can’t believe I’m stuck...” you mutter under your breath as you try to pry the elevator doors open. Dick rolls his eyes at you. “You can’t open those doors, (y/n),” he ruffles his hair in frustration, “we just need to wait for the fire department, dumbass.”He says, his head lulling back against the wall.

You hiss, your fingers sore and red. “Has anyone ever told you that you were an ass?” You snarl making Dick scowl at you.

“You’ve said so like 5 times in the emergency room and 2 times in- Do you really wanna start this again?!”

You punch the door, creating a deep divet. “You’re goddamn right I wanna start this again because, Richard, for once in your goddamned life I wish you would stop being such a self-centered dickweed!” You seethe. Your knuckles hurt. They feel cool. They’re probably bleeding.

Dick shoots up from the corner. “How am I self-centered?”

“Risking your life like a fucking moron like that?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was trying to save those people.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” you throw your arms up in exasperation, “do you know just how bad you are at keeping yourself alive because of that fucking hero complex, huh? You dumb. piece. of. Shit.” You take a deep breath and continue your tirade. “You think you’re invincible just cus you run around in tights all night?”

Dick smirks at you. “You never had a problem with my tights when-”

“Check your ego, Grayson. I’ve dealt with a lot of spandex-clad pretty boys before, you’re nothing special.” You want the words to sting.

“Oh please, you dealt with them by putting them in body bags!”

“Yeah! Fuck you! You’ll end up in one the rate you’re going.” Dick is speechless for a moment. Something in Dick’s eyes flares. You flinch and open your mouth to say something but Dick roars, the sound loud in the confined space. “What? Are you gonna tell me to stop being a hero? Are you gonna tell me that I’m not good enough to be Nightwing like how Bruce told me I couldn’t be Robin? Hah?”

Your heart drops and your chest burns. Your hackles draw up as high as they can. You bare your teeth. “No, you fucking moron That’s not the point!”

“What is it then, (y/n)? What do you want from me?!”

“You always go on this damn crusade to save everyone and everything and you don’t bother to take care of yourself or how it would affect others!”

“Wha-”

“No! You don’t- You don’t ever think!”You shove him against the wall, jabbing your finger into his chest.

Dick glares down at you, grabbing your wrist in an almost painful grip. His finger jabs against your collar bone as he gets in your face, his hot breath fanning against your skin. “Fuck you! You’re just as bad as I am! You always throw yourself in front of others at the first sound of gunfire.”

“Dipshit, I have accelerated healing!” you say, ripping your hand out of his grip.

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU’RE INVINCIBLE.”

“Neither are you!” You sob, it comes out wet and raw. You close your eyes. You can still see the blood on his uniform. You sink to the floor, clutching at his shirt. Your tears sting even as they fall to the floor. “Neither are you.”

“(y/n)...” Dick’s shoulders droop as he watches you proud form crumple, entire body shaking. He lowers himself to the ground slowly, careful not to agitate you.

You press forward and bury your face into his shoulder, fist lightly punching his chest. You don’t want him to see you cry. “Dick… I’m not saying you should quit… that- that’s just who you are.” You hiccup, tears flowing.“I just- I don’t want to bury you. I don’t- I can’t lose you, you fucking moron… You can’t just worm your way into someone’s heart and- and- ”

“(Y/n)...” Dick pulls you into his lap and lays his chin on your head. He hadn’t really thought… He should have known. He should have guessed.

You pull away and look him in the eye, eyes bloodshot from crying. “You can’t just expect me to be ok with the possibility you won’t come back to me,” you say lowly, punching his chest. The next few words come out in a shy whisper, low enough that Dick has to strain his ears to hear you. “Dick… I love you. I want to grow old with you, you waste of oxygen.” You cry into Dick’s shoulder not able to face him. Dick shakes his head. He puts his hand on the back of your neck and presses a kiss to your hair. Dick doesn’t know how many times he has to tell you he doesn’t think less of you for crying on his shoulder but he’ll tell you no matter how many times you need to hear it.

You sit in silence with only your muffled sobs and Dick’s comforting words filling the dead air.

“Timmy is gonna kill you for making me cry,” you sniffle, facing him with a wet tear-stained smile.

Dick gives you a crooked smile in return.“ I still have no idea how you managed to turn my siblings against me,” Dick says, planting another kiss on your face but this time on your eyelid just below your brow.

“You say that like it’s hard.”

Dick pouts at you and you cackle loud and high, somehow still managing to sound musical. “I am a lovable big brother-”

“-And I’m a fucking nun-” Dick pinches your ass through your skirt. “We'll have nun of that,”

You grab Dick’s wrist in a tight grip, managing to narrow your eyes at him. “I am not dropping this conversation just to get fucked in an elevator.”

His eyes shine cheekily at the idea.“Wasn't my plan... but that works.”

“Dick…”

Dick leans down, his nose grazing your pulse, brushing like petals against your skin. “Let me make it up to you,” Dick says, licking a stripe up the column of your neck. Ignoring the swell of his pants against your inner thigh, you pinch his cheek, tugging him away from your neck. Your stomach roils at the loss of his lips on your skin but you suppress a whine to glare at him.

Dick looks up at you, mischief lighting his eyes. He pulls away from your hand. His lips find their way back to your neck then back up your jaw. His lips press kisses along your jawline. “It’ll-”kiss”-be-” kiss “-sooo worth it.”

Your breath hitches.“Dick...” you whine, feeling your skin heat. Your mind is buzzing. He smiles against you. His fingers toy with the strap of your bra, tugging it down slowly, carefully, making sure you feel every bit of his movement. “I hear my name-” he kisses your shoulder “-but you’re not stopping me.”

You roll your hips, panting for him. Dick’s tongue is hot against your skin. “C’mon, sweetheart, you know I can make you scream my name with just one hand,” Dick whispers against the shell of your ear. His hand slides down your arm down to your hip, his hand guiding your ass towards his growing bulge. “C’mon, Sweetheart, think about it-” Lick ”-the words I could make you sing.”

“Dick...” you pant, arching your back, pressing your body against his, giving him more access to your neck. Dick nips at your flesh happily. “Honey, I’m going to-”

You yelp, your skin flying off your bones when you hear the elevator doors open. Dick, unphased, continues kissing you and licking up your skin.

“Heeey guys, it’s Grayson,” the fireman calls out to the other men behind him. He turns back to the two of you with a cheeky grin.“Dickie, if I’d known it was you..” He glances towards you, eyes catching on the red hickeys blooming on your shoulder. You want to evaporate. “You guys need a minute?” Dick grins against your skin, looking up at you through thick lashes. “Thanks, Jerry, but we might need more than that.”

You glare down at Dick who simply smiles at you as he nips at your flesh. “What? Feeling shy?” Dick breathes against your neck and all of a sudden, all of the anger and irritation comes creeping back. You shove Dick lightly, standing up and fixing your shirt. “I think he has a concussion. I suggest you check him out,” you snarl, brushing past Jerry leaving Dick on the floor, horny and stunned.

“I’m totally fine!” Dick says, scrambling to his feet and grabbing your bag.

You glare over your shoulder. “Our argument isn’t over.”

“What? But- I thought- We were about to-” Your scowl deepens as you see Dick flounder. Jerry cackles as he gives Dick’s back an unsympathetic pat.

“Sorry about that, Grayson. I guess you were destined to get blue balled,” Jerry laughs shaking his head. Dick sighs deeply, his shoulders drooping. “Are you really sorry?” Dick asks, side-eyeing Jerry. Jerry grins. “Nah, but it’s the thought that counts,” Jerry says, looking all too pleased with himself.

Dick bumps past Jerry gently with a slightly petulant look on his face which earns him a chuckle from Jerry and a glare from you. “Watch the shoulder,” you crow from the hall.

Jerry shakes his head. “No, hero’s welcome, huh?” Dick rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, she’s not exactly happy about the hole in my shoulder,” Dick admits, sheepishly. Jerry shoves Dick forward lightly and the other firemen do the same. “Go get ‘er, Tiger!”

Dick falls into step behind you, his lips brushing the back of your neck. His arm wraps around you as he pulls you close. He places a kiss behind your ear. You gasp and you hear hoots behind you. “Dick… Don’t… You can’t solve this with an orgasm,” you sigh, feeling your resolve crumble as his soft lips brushed the weak point of your neck. “Honey… please.” Dick holds you against his chest. The beating of his heart thaws you. “Honey, I’m sorry...” His breath runs down the side of your neck and it feels like feathers caressing your skin. You take a breath. He just knew how to make you melt.

“... I love you too.”

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine

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heich0e · 3 years

Note

Hi liv! Can we have a lil chapter 12 no context spoiler? :(

I barely have anything written for chapter 12 yet buuuuuuut i suppose i can share a little thing i have written:

PERC 12 SNIPPET UNDER THE CUT

“What’s with that?” Levi asked, chin jutting up towards the ceiling.

You followed his line of sight to the sad single-starred constellation hanging over your bed, smiling a little.

“What, you don’t like my interior decor?” you asked him dryly.

“Why do you only have one?” he countered, letting his head loll over to look at you.

“Nifa got it in her move-in day welcome pack and kindly donated it to my room to give it a bit of ambiance - her words not mine,” you tacked on the last bit when you saw the way his eyebrow quirked wryly.

“Why didn’t you get more?” Levi asked. “It looks stupid with just the one star up there.”

“I always meant to, I just never got around to it,” you admitted with a shrug. “Forgive me but it’s been a kind of busy year.”

Levi snorted a little, letting his head rest back to stare up at the ceiling again, and you returned your attention once more to the laptop on your desk as you logged onto the online portal to take your quiz.

“I really should have studied,” you groused, typing your student ID number and password into the login fields. “This is all your fault.”

“I don’t remember hearing any complaints a few minutes ago,” Levi replied, and you could hear some rustling behind you as he (you assumed) rose from your bed and began to redress.

You tossed him a withering look over your shoulder, catching sight of him rebuttoning his white dress shirt. His fingers moved quickly down, hiding the skin of his chest your lips had been pressed against not long prior from view, popping buttons through the corresponding holes as he went. You were so distracted by the sight you nearly forgot you had a more important task at hand - one that you’d be graded on.

#liv got mail

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 3 years

Text

Only Time Makes It Human 3

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: hi and sorry for the long wait, I had to squish my brain real hard to get this chapter out, but I hope you like it, I decided a chapter about growth wasn't enough and y'all gave me an idea for angst so I just splashed it there and we'll delve into it more on the next chapter. 10/10 the idea works well enough for me to bring Levi and reader together even more. So don't call me out on being random. This is raw, un fucking edited, I'll edit later 💗

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: modern au, college au

Warnings: mentions of blood

Special kudos if you figure out why I used this gif ;)

The problem with your feet being numb in the morning when you woke up wasn't supposed to phase you as much as it currently did, but the weathering cold that had barged its way to your room silently begged to have you feel something other than the everlasting whirlpool of regret.

Which was -unsurpisingly- something you had been spiraling into a lot lately.

Your ringtone -or rather the caller that had caused it to go off- nontheless remained mercilessly unforgiving to your current condition. The brute vibrations that accompanied your once favorite song ripped through the air and bounced on every wall inside your room before it wooshed inside your eardrums.

You fucking finally had to change that ringtone, you thought.

Your feet, moist and heavy as they buzzed with the aftermath of the coma-like sleep you had just gone through, struggled to wiggle from underneath the comfort of your blankets. Your hands instinctively rubbed the underside of your nose as you sniffled all the cold of the room around you. Throwing the blanket off of you, you groaned at the non stop ringing of your phone.

The few steps to your desk felt like an eternity of having to walk with a badgy weight on your feet, but the faint feeling in your body didnt come to an halt even after you picked the device in your hands. Your eyes couldn’t really adjust well to make out the ID of the caller, of course, sleep hadn't rubbed off your eye lids yet, but still you slid the emerald button to acceptance with no resistance.

“Hey” you sleepingly moaned.

“Hellooo! (Y/n)!” Hange called enthusiastically for the other line, her joyous voice piercing your eardrums “Where are you booo?”

“I just woke up why?” you yanwed.

Pacing your eyes around your room you noticed the dull daylight creeping in through your blinds, signaling the gloom of another potentially snowy day for Trost. You blinked as you took notice of the few articles of soon to reside in the laundry bin clothing as well as the dress that hung from your closet door.

And then, it all snapped.

“Oh. shit!”

Anxiety rushed through you like a bullet to the gut, gushing numbness and waves of cold sweat from the point of impact. Forcefully, you ripped your phone off your ear and double tapped at screen to make it light up. The date read December 25, and below it, laid numerous notifications of your alarm and even a pop up reminder from last night to not forget the food you had to take with you.

Thinking back to that, your head started spinning like crazy, the familiar, yet bizarre feeling of your stomach dropping overtaking you. You hadn't cooked, rather, you had spent all night drinking and sulking on your own, cursing yourself for all your choices up to date.

"Yes, oh shit!” Hnge laughed “Oh! You forgot?”

"Hangeeee stop screaming oh my god no I didn't forget, I'm on my way okay?"

A little yelp came out of your mouth as the cable of your charger prevented you from taking another step closer to your bedroom door; letting out a curse under your breath though you quickly unplugged your phone, and rushed over the mess of your room and out to your living room.

"But you said you just woke up."

"Ahhh," you scratched your head, feeling your loose t-shirt sliding down your shoulder "no!" You said, then in a sterner voice you repeated "No! I uhm, I was just-"

Your poor excuse to communicate after having just woken up didn't startled Hange. If anything, she seemed to find it amusing because she burst into joyous, bubbling laughter at the sound of your despair. And you couldn't blame her for it; were you under any other circumstance you would be laughing with yourself as well.

"It's fine. Erwin and I are making a cake for shorty so if you want to cook here you have plenty of time yet. I'm going to say it though, we could really use your pastry skill."

You let out a sigh as you took your phone off your ear and pressed on the speaker icon. Your hands worked fast to grip onto the hem of your shirt and then, even faster, they managed to pull it off of you in shift movements.

"I'm just going to have a shower, dress up and I'll be on my way. It shouldn't take more than 30 minutes."

Hange exhaled in utter relief through the phone and you could practically feel her sheepish smile as Erwin shouted a big fat 'thank you' from the depths of his kitchen. Bringing out a hand to grap your shower cap -the only shower product you loathed using- you ripped the cap off its place on your cabinet and messily shoved all of your hair in it in rushed movements.

"Got any questions before I hit the shower Hange?"

"Please ask her" Erwin was heard and you cocked your head to the side at the sound.

"No Erwiin, we got it under control okay?"

"No we don't."

Shaking your head to prevent yourself from zoning out, you clicked your tongue before opening your mouth to address your two friends. Asking as to what they were referring to was easy, although it was obvious that Hange felt confident in succeeding in the task Erwin was referring to. Knowing Hange though, you thought you could guess perhaps what exactly was going on.

"Please don't mix food coloring with spinach juice to make the cake green like two years ago."

Erwin's laughter was pretty much evident through the other line as Hange went on blubbering about how she wasn't going to do it again giving extreme emphasis as to why she couldn't understand the reason it tasted bad in the first place but would go with what you said nevertheless. At that point Erwin was laughing hysterically, telling you how Hange was once again, indeed, thinking about it and the sound of his laughter grew even louder than Hange's words.

"Do you have food coloring?"

"Yes Hange I have food coloring."

"Plea-pleaee bring some. Dammit Erwin what's gotten into you- gotta go (y/n) see you in a while."

The beeping sound from the other line left you little to no time to properly reply to your friends with a much wanted greeting, though, you didn't think much of it. You were going to spend the whole day with them, so getting upset over not getting the chance to say goodbye over the phone wasn't something that should have caused guilt to spurt in you.

But surely, this wasn't the only cause of your overly bubbling guilt. The actual cause of the knot in your gut laid to the fact that within the time span of two weeks you had managed to to drag Levi and yourself into a rather steep rabbit hole. There was going to be a serious impact of your relationship with your friends had the two of you made it known to them; everyone would scold you -and they'd be right at that- and maybe this time they'd pick sides as to what wrong or not. And you didn't want that.

Although you secretly wished everyone went with Levi. Or at least you had come to the conclusion that that was what you deserved.

You had been feeling bothered and repulsed by what had caused you to make out with him that night, given the fact that you had been the one that initiated the kiss. And just as much, you had been feeling furious over Levi allowing this to ever happen. But looking back at it now, you couldn't say you regretted getting close to him even in such way. And that was probably the most infuriating thing of all.

Nevertheless, there was also the fact that you would be seeing Levi today and frankly you didn't know what to do with that. Should you act like everything was fine? Should you simply ignore him? Was Petra going to be with him?

Speaking of Petra it would be best if you straight up let her know of what had happened. Acting shady with another woman's man behind her back was outrageous for anyone to do and you hated being in that position like the next person.

Your stomach twisted dangerously at your spiraling thoughts, but you chose to ignore the tight knot, attributing the loud growl you had heard to one caused by your excessive hunger.

Perhaps, your shower was going to help you sort out your thoughts and intentions.

With a twist of your wrist the water started sprinting out of the tap in your shower. Your eyes were fixated on your phone, your thumb roaming through Spotify in hopes to find the perfect song to company your bath with. You simply said good for a Christmas playlist that Spotify suggested, tapping on that, a list of numerous jolly songs popped up in your screen and you simply pressed the big shuffle button before putting your head on your cabinet.

The walk to Erwin's house was very much and as previously expected, quiet. The sidewalks on your way were all covered in sugary white snow, decorating each different apartment complex in the non urban side of Trost along with the standard holiday decorations.

Taking a deep sigh you brought the back of your finger to the metallic button of Erwin's doorbell. Blinking rationally, you looked around at the marble front door frame of his apartment complex, your blood subtly rushing to your feet. You dragged the tip of your combat boot over the snow, curling your toes on the fuzzy material that covered the inside of the shoe.

You were beginning to become impatient as you waited on the doorframe, Erwin was taking way too long to open the door and you were practically freezing out there; the dress you wore did almost nothing to keep you warm. Despite you taking precautions by wearing a cardigan and the leather coat that you had snatched from your brother, the cold still pierced through your sheer black pantyhose, as if your efforts to stay warm were ridiculous.

The sound of footsteps was what startled you next but still your head didn't turn to the source of the buzzing noise. Your nose simply nuzzled to the scarf you had wrapped around yourself as you rubbed your face onto its warm fleece material.

"Uh, hi."

This time you could help but turn around to check who had thrown a greeting at you.

A familiar puff of ginger hair greeted you as you snuck your nose out of the edge of your scarf, two big and round hazel eyes stared right at you as you blinked rapidly back at them.

Great. Just great.

"Hey."

Petra wiggled her nostrils once to the left and then to the right, seemingly scratching the awkwardness in the atmosphere away. She blinked her eyes a few times into yours, her lips pursing together slightly as if she was coming up with a good comeback to your greeting, yet it never came.

"uhm, what's up?"

Your fingers slightly clutched the edges of your coat, crossing over your chest as you felt your jaw start clattering. Your pupils gathered at the corners of your eyes, catching small glimpses of Petra as you eyed her up and down.

She too had opted for a cardigan and a dress. A very safe choice if you were in a place to express your opinion but hers, despite being adorned with numerous tiny and dainty coral and red flowers, looked so thin and tule like and it barely covered her thighs, so much that you felt a pinch of concern run through you that you were slow to decide on whether you wanted to brush off or not.

"I'm.. good." She managed to let out, but you noticed how her lip trembled.

She was definitely shivering, if that wasn't concerning enough you didn't know what was, and she looked so frail and out of place that she could definitely beat you at it. Plus, the lack of a warm jacket struck somewhat of a nerve at you. Even feeling so much guilt over being in her presence you couldn't help but feel your motherly friend instincts wash over you; why wasn't she wearing something warmer? And why were you seconds away from taking off your jacket to offer it to her when you knew she wouldn't even accept it.

"Damn, Erwin's sure taking long, do you want my jacket?"

"Uh-"

Once again and mostly out of instinct, your finger tapped over the metallic button, covered by the edge of your sleeve. Suddenly, the familiar buzz of the intercom growled in your eardrum and you shook your head to its direction automatically.

"I'm so sorry!" Erwin said. "Come in!"

"Hey Erwin!" Petra spoke before you had a chance to say your wanted reply.

Even if you couldn't see him, you knew how shocked of an expression he was wearing.

Taking the few steps into the apartment complex's yard, you rushed to the next door and waited for the known buzz which signaled that Erwin had finally let you inside. With awkwardness spread over your face though, you pushed your lips into a thing line, holding the door back as you signaled to Petra that she should be the first to come inside.

"Thank you." She muttered.

"No prob."

You watched as Petra hesitated to push the elevator button; with a set of trembling fingers her palm rested only a few inches before the metallic button that was lit in a red arrow. With another smile you came closer to her and went to check in which floor the elevator was currently at. Whether she flinched intentionally or not, you didn't know.

"Wanna share a lift? It'll be a while till it comes down again." You offered.

"Uhm, yeah okay."

Once she responded, Petra tapped onto the elevator button with her thumb.

Petra looked at you and clung onto the edged of her cardigan once again. You took notice of how she looked a little more casual and unkept, despite being dressed on point; the lack of a jacket and her tousled naturally wavy bob betrayed an unwillingness to be present to today's event and it's was painfully obvious.

"I'd like to" Petra hesitated, "I'd like to talk to you about something."

"Oh sure, what is it about?"

"It's about Levi."

Dead silence fell as Petra didn't dare turn her gaze to your direction. The little screen over the elevator button still showed that your lift was taking long to come down as if it mocked you, but you couldn't find it in you to tap into the button once again.

"Would you like to grab some coffee with me tomorrow?"

Tomorrow.

To say that you were panicked would be an exaggeration and probably a degradation to Petra's feelings. Her breathing was heavier than your own, frankly because for her it must have been even more uncomfortable than it was for you. You couldn't blame her for that.

Nonetheless you couldn't help but be genuinely curious as to what she had wanted to tell you? It was evident that she knew something. What's slipped you was whether or not she want to bash you for your actions.

She had every right to do so.

"Yeah. Of course, uhh, tomorrow sounds good."

....

Christmas day wasn't as bad as you had expected it to be when Hange had announced to you that Levi would be coming alone with Petra.

For starters, the food was in plehtora; Erwin had cooked your jolly favorite roasted chicken, Mike and Nanaba had brought an enormous plate of their creamiest, most mouth watering souffle, Levi had made some god tasty pumpkin soup and Hange had taken actually good care of fixing a custom non alcoholic cocktail to each one of you.

All of this drool worthy deliciousness had caused, and non surprisingly at that, your body to submit in that peaceful demi slumber that tagged along with the fullness of your tummy. Frankly, it had been so long since you had enjoyed such a good meal and you didn't think you would be enjoying another one until Mikasa's birthday.

Thus, the cool evening sir that entered the room when Erwin opened the window door to the balcony, found you laying on the floor right next to the tangerine fire that danced in the fireplace. You could faintly feel Nanaba's hand scratch at the roots of your hair, her almond tipped nails slowly running in purringly mellow lines over your sculp that sent you to pure delight.

Levi's eyes danced over your form more than he'd like to admit so. Ever so slightly his pupils would travel up and down your thighs and calfs, examining the material of your sheer back pantyhose but whatever emotion overcame him wasn't the animalistic lust he had expected to feel.

He felt rather guilty. And not only for staring at your legs. For bringing himself upon the situation he was in.

It wasn't easy to think with a throbbing head but in Levi's world this poor condition was translated as a prompt to try to get out of whatever shithole he had found himself in. Maybe. Because there was also a certain part inside of him that bashed him to no end about his previous and degrading actions to both Petra's and his person, which part he completely and rationally justified.

With a quick glance at Petra, Levi brought his hand to his face to hopefully wipe any of the numbness his guilt had got him feeling. Petra seemed to enjoy herself as per usual. With her soft smiles and the mellow sway of her hair over her shoulder, she'd often reach for the hem of her white wooly cardigan to cover her shoulder while cooing into the soft material and onto the side of the couch she was seating in.

It would be hard for anyone to guess that the two of them had broken up.

She was unsurprisingly sitting as far off him as she could; the fact that they hadn't announced to anyone they had broken up because they didn't want the Christmas party at Erwin's to be ruined didn't mean she owned Levi to act like his faithful and bubbly dog.

It happened that night after he had stood her up at the movies.

Levi had gathered all of his determination and had managed to push all thoughts aside from the back of his brain, as he was despairate to ignore that feeling your make out session had brushed on him. He had walked up to Petra, all dissolved and stoic, his chest swelling with anxiety. He had stared at her with an agape mouth, he had been muttering words so honest that he felt were fatally brute and Petra had digested them all without any difficulty.

And before he knew it, he was over and done.

Petra hadn't cried, she hadn't wept, she had only answered him with a smile that she'd rather just be friends with him if things weren't going to work between them.

And to an extended it tortured the ravenette, mostly because he remembered the hurt look in her face before she had managed to hide it with her usual mellow smile.

Taking another sigh, Levi stared at Petra's hand while she played silently with the lettuce hem of her dress. Her hazel orbs were fixed on you, who laid before the fireplace like a stray cat on the tire of car during a snowy day. Levi couldnt exactly place the exact emotion behind Petra's expression, though it would be perceived by most as a saddened one. There were specs of regret gathering at the corners of her eyes, reluctance gathered at her slightly puckered lips and a hint of determination to the front tips of her eyebrows.

Maybe Petra's inner strength was something that Levi deeply admired.

Levi made no effort whatsoever to reach out to her to ask what was going on, not even to show some seemingly convern. The more he looked at Petra, the more it felt utterly wrong for him to simply stand next to her, knowing what he had do behind her back. Whether he loved her or not, it wasn't like him to be caught up in such stupid drama.

"Shorty!"

Levi looked up to an enthusiastic Hange with much tousled hair and a big grin on her face that spread from one ear to another. With another, more thorough glance, he quickly became aware of the cake in her hands; a cake covered in white frosting, decorated with soft pastel green letters that wrote a simple birthday wish to his person. He couldn't help but let out a sigh.

"For you!" Hange smiled further "Erwiiin, come light up the candles!"

Looking around the room he noticed how all of his friends' gazes were on him. Mike and Nanaba remained cuddled on the couch opposite to the one he was on, Petra was mellowy smiling at his eith her cherry lips pressed into a thin line and you were fiddling with what seating arrangement was most comfortable for you at the moment.

"We're celebrating another year where you went up in age and down in height, how delightful." Mike commented, causing laughter to spark between the small group of people around you.

After the spur of happiness died out your eyes met with Levi's, briefly and then they traveled anywhere else in the room altogether.

"Let's light up the candles!" Smiled Erwin as he flicked the small metallic button of his lighter.

"I don't want too many, shit. The last time you took my lungs out."

"Not our fault that you're old Levi!" You spoke, earning a half smile by the ravenette.

"Very old!" Hange agreed.

"Tch, I'm only turning twenty six shut your shitty mouths!"

The warm light of the fire licked each waxed strip of wick that hung from the candles, illuminating Hange's face in warm orange light. Once done with lighting up the candles, Erwin plopped himself in between Levi and Petra, crossing his hands over his knees as he shifted his bottom in the most uncomfortable seating on a couch you had ever witnessed.

You merely caught a glimpse of Hange kneeling before Levi as you dragged your gaze over to Petra, fixating it on her for the thousandth time this evening.

There only was one thing in your head that bounced between the crevices of your brain like crazy. Just one simple words that held so much behind it.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow you were going to apologize to Petra and try to make amends. Being the despicable toxic person you had turned into didn't suit you. Owing up to your mistakes was the first step to redemption and you weren't afraid to take it.

As you fell into a spiral of thoughts and guesses about tomorrow though, you couldn't help but subtly ignore the cheerful sing alone to Levi's birthday song.

.....

"Thank you for coming!"

Petra's hair was messily swaying all over her face, falling a direct victim to the frozen December air, yet she smiled as if nothing was going on.

The park around you was covered in snow. White was primarily the color that was plastered on everything, save for the dry stems of trees that were once covered in forest green leaves.

Your peeping hot coffee did nothing to warm up your hands, despite your best wishes and in the moment you had called victim to some specs of jealousy over Petra's gloved hands as they rubbed soothing over her own coffee.

"Of course, I had been meaning to talk to you as well."

"Oh you did?" Petra spoke with her eyebrows following the little surprise that was masking her tone. "To be honest, I didn't think you'd come."

"Yeah about that-"

"Can I please go first?" Petra cut you off.

Her huge hazel eyes that blinked into yours from your left side left you little to no space to deny her wish. Thus, by taking a sigh, you pushed past the quick beating of your heart and gestured her to go first with a kind smile on your face.

"Okay oof, thanks!" Petra huffed "look. Levi and I broke up. Now I know that you'll say it doesn't concern you, and frankly it'd be ideal if it didn't, but I know it does, because Levi explained to me what happened."

At that Petra slightly paused.

Naturallye first thing that came to your mind was the need to express an apology. Although, you weren't that sure if Petra would perceive the apology as sincere, you felt like you ought to give one to her. Yet her eyes blinked into yours further as she took another turn down the path you were walking on and you wordlessly followed asuit.

"I love Levi you know," she sighed "but Levi loves you. You're not over each other and it's painfully obvious, I mean you did just collided to eachother quite literally, not giving a single care about whether you couldn't have each other or not."

A sheer red colored tint painted your cheeks at her words.

Your skin pricked you, burning up a stingingly painful path to all of the pores on your face as shame took the form of an earth shattering wave. Your heart started heaping beats, hollering into the depths of your chest and you could hear it bounce inside your eardrums as if your whole body was hollow save for the jolting organ and the echo of the sound it made was bouncing around each fleshy wall.

Petra was right and you couldn't help but accept but stand the as she was lightning you with her words.

"It hurts to see that someone that I love doesn't love me back but it hurts more to see that you two are very miserable without eachother. I really thought you were a bitch you know."

At the sound of that, you let out a startled laugh.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you just gave us looks when we'd shoe up together somewhere or you'd simply leave, but I don't like turning my back on people and judging them like that. I'm in no place to judge anyone a coping mechanism."

Petra sighed. Her fingers curled strongly onto her cup, while her left palm went to support the cup by the bottom as she angled it on her lips. She made a tiny gulping noise as she drank a sip from her latte, her nose crinkling up as the hot beverage brushed over her sensitive tongue. In turn, you sipped similarly, mimicking Petra just hoping it would serve as a sign for her to go on with her speech.

"I might be hurt, but I vouch to help you and Levi resolve what's going on and get back together."

"You do?"

"Mhm"

"Petra I, I don't know what to say you- you're a literal angel." You admit and the guilt in your stomach only growled in its awakening.

You and Levi had hurt a wonderful person. Petra didn't need to be nice to you, she didn't need to offer to help you with anything but once you made yourself step inside her shoes you were able to see why she had perceived you the way that she initially had.

"I'm sorry."

Your voice was silent and stripped of any emotion other than shame yet Petra was beaming at you in response.

Her warm smile was elegant and comforting as she stared at you, taking another gulp of her drink with a soft giggle. Your eyes were locked with hers, saddened (e/c) irises staring into her hazel ones, as she smiled even more little by little.

It was strange.

There was a different kind of bubbling inside your chest and you knew because your heart wasn't hammering anymore, not was your stomach trying to be ripped apart in tiny pieces after it vored into your other intestines. You felt serene, at peace even.

It clicked to you that this is what must feel to be forgiven.

"It's fine, plus you guys kinda deserve each other." Petra laughed at your chocked inhale, pressing a comforting, gloved palm to your shoulder. "I'd rather find my happiness when I'm not in between two people that struggle to find theirs."

Petra nuzzled to the comfort of her jacket, giving you a scrunched up bunny smile. You knew it's not that she hoped you could be best friends after this. She simply wanted to make sure that she could do her best to help two people find happiness. And it wasn't all that bad, you figured. You didn't know what you would do were you in her place.

In a way, you admired Petra for being so strong.

"Besides, girls shouldn't bring down other girls."

"Yeah, and I'm sorry about what I did behind your back. I own up to my mistake. I can't take it back but I can promise that I won't become this toxic ever again."

You shot an apologetic side smile at her as you followed her tracks.

Taking a new look in your surroundings, you deeply inhaled the cold air, filling your lungs in shivering winter freshness. A few specs of snow were adorning Petra's hair as the fell from the sky in a dainty manner, licking the stray threads that popped from her wooly gloves.

There definitely was a commotion a few blocks away. You could hear sirens go off not so far from your spot but you chose to ignore them, it was typical for a city person to filter out unnecessary noise, and having to live in Trost added tons to what you had to filter or not.

"It's December twenty six and the two is back to being a Mayhem." Petra sighed.

"It's like we're Gotham or some shit."

"Gotham?" Petra blinked at you, earning a gasp from you.

"Step one to being the friend of someone who's majoring in comics-"

"Oh, friends yay!"

Shaking your head, to ignore the child like enthusiasm, you continued, "Please know the most well known fictional city, it's Batman's city too."

"OH!" Petra's mouth fell agape as she took in the information, but she quickly giggled again as she saw that you easily took a gulp of your beverage "you're right."

For what seemed like a second you felt at peace once again. Petra bubbled about how she wanted to apologise to Levi about her rather cold behavior last night, and explained in the most non detailed way how it was the memory of the passing of her mother that had caused her to become this grumpy.

"Don't worry Petra! But beware, you could be turning into Levi version two point oh and-"

A loud sound startled you, sending both you and Petra back a few steps. Dumbfounded, you stared at each other and around you, locking eyes with different by passers that were just as shocked as you.

"Maybe we should go back!" Petra suggested. You simply nodded, hearing a good amount of running footsteps coming to the direction of the block you were in. In any way, getting caught up with a manhunt wasn't in your plans for today

"Yeah maybe we shou-"

Your words were cut off absurdly, harshly and shockingly all together. As gunmetal orbs locked with yours, your eyelids shot open, hour mouth dropping to the snow covered concrete.

"Levi?"

Wait, Levi? That was actually so random

Before you could manage to process what was going on around you, or why on earth Levi had just popped up from the alley right across you another head splitting sound filled the air.

Levi -yes, this was indeed Levi, you just didn't really know how to process this- collapsed on his knees like a rag doll, his torso and head giving in to the exhaustion of his body. Once he fell, you stood frozen, shieldimg Petra with one hand as the two of you watched in horror while crimson started littering the sugary snow.

"Call an ambulance." You spoke dryly, eyes still wide with horror.

The people who had seemed to be after Levi quickly fell onto the hands of the hands of a handful of police men who were on their tracks, but you couldn't care to look at their faces. You just run towards Levi, always followed by a petrified Petra, your feet giving in as you kneeled right next to him, your fingers gingery ghosting over him just to inspect what was his condition.

You listened as Petra spoke with the emergency center in horror, explaining what was the scene before her eyes while struggling to keep herself from trembling.

"What's going on?" Shy muttered once she detached the phone off her ear.

"I'm pretty sure now is not the right time for a story, but Levi used to be in a street gang in his teens."

"Oh boy."

Oh boy indeed.

Here's your gentle reminder that constructive criticism makes me cry because I'm a baby

Taglist: @sasageyowrites @liddolwhynot2000 @ackermans-freedom-inc @callmepromise @nobody-knows-anymore @levisbrat25 @thethyri @hawkssnugget @berrijam @melancholicmonologue

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 3 years

Text

of falling & skateboards

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Logan, Virgil, background Remus & Janus Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Pre-romantic/platonic Analogical (first meeting), romantic Dukeceit (getting together), platonic Dukexiety. Warnings: Language, Remus is somewhat suggestive throughout because he’s Remus, minor injuries Word count: 4541

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

analogical week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: Virgil's friend Remus drags him to the skate park and promptly abandons him in order to flirt with Janus; at least Remus had the grace to introduce Virgil to Janus's attractive friend Logan, who is just as poorly versed in skateboarding techniques as Virgil.

Notes: Day 5 of Analogical Week 2021! @analogicalweek Remus uses he/they pronouns; at this point, Janus uses they/them. Takes place in my Starlight Universe, does not need context to read.

Virgil’s phone began ringing, making him jump. He fished it out of his pocket, planning to hang up until he saw the caller ID. It was Remus—one of his new friends. They’d met at a club Virgil had gone to during orientation, and they’d hit it off and started hanging out.

Virgil picked up the call. “Would it kill you to fucking text me first?”

“You don’t respond fast enough,” Remus said, sounding bored.

“Sometimes I’m in class, Remus!”

“Are you in class now?” Remus asked.

“...No.”

“So it’s all good, see!” Remus cackled. “Anyway,” they went on, steamrollering over Virgil’s objection, “you wanna come to the skatepark with me this weekend?”

That was totally out of the blue. “What?” Virgil asked after a pause. “Why?”

“So, my brother has this roommate, and he’s super nerdy and boring but I think you’d totally get along and he’s coming to the skatepark with me and you should totally come along and meet him!” Remus explained.

His voice was a little too self-satisfied. “What’s the catch?” Virgil asked suspiciously.

Remus gasped dramatically. “Can’t I just want good things for my friend?”

Virgil waited.

“Also he’s friends with Janus and he’s bringing them, which is obviously totally unrelated,” Remus added.

“Aha.” That made more sense; Remus had told Virgil way more information than he wanted to know about their crush on this Janus figure.

“So you’ll come?” Remus asked eagerly.

It wasn’t like Virgil had anything else going on this weekend. “Sure. I’ll come distract your friend so you can flirt.”

“Hey!” Remus yelped, loud enough that Virgil winced and held the phone away from his ear. “Listen, this is a win-win situation for both of us! You’ll love him. Promise. He’s so fucking boring and nerdy, you’re going to talk each other’s ears off. It’ll be great! Trust me!”

“Sure,” Virgil said, amused. “Text me the time and place. Text me,” he repeated for emphasis, and hung up the phone.

On Saturday morning, he met up with Remus and the pair of them walked to the bus stop. Remus had their skateboard with them; Virgil didn’t own one, but Remus had assured him that he could check one out at the park for a small fee if he wanted to.

“You did not say it was fancy,” Virgil accused as the bus pulled away from the stop.

“What?” Remus looked down at himself. “Oh. No, I’m just sexy, nobody’s supposed to be fancy.” He was wearing a gray sports bra—it was the first time Virgil had seen him without a binder on, but even in a public setting he seemed totally unbothered—and faded jeans with huge holes in the knees, as well as platform doc martens and an olive green bomber jacket with “HE/THEY” stencilled on the back in white paint above a pair of skeletal hands giving double birds. His belly button was pierced and he was wearing a chunky black piece with small silver spikes in it; they had fishnet gloves on their hands, a black choker with small studded spikes on it around their neck, chunky black and silver studs in the three piercings he had in each ear, and messily smudged black and silver eyeshadow. His dark green curls were pushed back into a tiny, low ponytail that did absolutely nothing to contain them or make them less messy. “Pretty sure this isn’t what normal people mean when they say fancy, anyway,” they added thoughtfully.

“Shut up, this is fancy. You’re being fancy to impress your crush.” Virgil elbowed them in the side. He was only wearing his typical combination of band tee, skinny jeans, and black hoodie; he felt positively underdressed next to them.

“Yes, I am very very sexy and this is my mating call,” Remus said with an easy shrug. “What can I say?” After a pause, they added, “Do you think it’ll work?”

Virgil snickered. “Sure. Whatever. You look very punk. I’m sure they’ll be very impressed.”

“Good,” Remus said happily. “Here, this is our stop.”

One thing Virgil had learned about Remus was that they had what seemed to be actually boundless energy, and it showed in the way they walked. They practically skipped, moving at a pace so quick Virgil had difficulty keeping up. But Remus was especially energetic today, and it got worse the closer they got to their destination. He was practically vibrating out of his skin by the time the park came in sight.

“There they are!” he exclaimed, pointing to two people standing in the shade of a tree and making conversation. “Jan is the gothy one, the nerd’s all yours.”

Virgil screeched to a dead stop and grabbed Remus’s elbow. “Dude.”

“What?” Remus looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“You didn’t say he was hot!” Virgil snapped.

“What?” Remus looked bewildered, looking back to the people he’d pointed out. His expression cleared. “Oh, right, I forgot you can be attracted to cis people.” He looked back at Virgil. “I dunno. Make out with him about it?”

“Jesus Christ—no! I don’t know anything about him, for starters?”

“Fuck first, ask questions later.” Remus grinned. “Or if you don’t want to, then just get over it. People are hot sometimes. No big deal.”

Virgil spluttered for a moment. “That is such terrible advice, please tell me you don’t actually—”

“No, no, I’m marginally smart sometimes, don’t worry about me. But I don’t know what you want from me, dude.” Remus shrugged. “This really seems like a you problem.”

“I need to mentally prepare myself before I talk to hot people! A warning would have been nice!” Virgil said, hiding in the hood of his hoodie.

“Mentally prepare yourself now, then,” Remus said pragmatically. “This is really not my fault, I simply am sexier than you at all times and it gives me the power to say no thank you to being attracted to cis people. How was I supposed to know you’d think he was hot? Like, if you get all hot and bothered by glasses and the walking personification of a college textbook, be my guest, but I don’t get it.”

Virgil groaned. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind, could you shut up about it forever starting now?”

“Oh, absolutely not, but your complaint is noted,” Remus said. “C’mon, let’s go say hi, some of us actually want to flirt with the people we think are hot.” They grabbed Virgil’s elbow and dragged him over.

“Remus,” Hot Glasses Boy said cordially (and dammit, he was tall, which was another thing Virgil found attractive). “This is your friend, I assume?”

“Yeah!” Remus grinned. “Logan, Virgil, Virgil, Logan. Apparently you’re hot. He’s emo. You’re both nerds, you should get along great.”

“Remus!” Virgil snapped, cheeks going hot with embarrassment.

“What? What?” Remus demanded, then elbowed past Virgil. “Hiiiii, Janus.”

Janus raised a singular eyebrow, looking for some reason amused rather than annoyed. “Hello there.” They eyed him up and down. “I like your jacket,” they added, very obviously staring at his chest in a way that Virgil suspected has nothing to do with the jacket.

Remus grinned and did a little twirl. “Thanks, I decorated it myself,” he said, wiggling his shoulders. “Wanna see me do a sick kickflip?”

“Sure,” Janus agreed, and allowed Remus to link his arm through theirs and drag them eagerly away in the direction of the skating area, already talking a mile a minute and beaming up at them.

Which left Virgil alone with this Logan guy and no idea what to talk about. He coughed, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Now that he was up close like this, Logan actually looked familiar, but Virgil couldn’t quite place him. Shit. Should he know him from something?

“Don’t we have History 104 together?” Logan said, breaking the silence (and saving Virgil from the approximately two dozen different social gaffes he knew he was probably committing by not knowing what to say) all at once.

Virgil breathed out a sigh of relief, because yeah, that was it; this was the guy who sat at the front of the huge lecture hall and always raised his hand (and his voice was unmistakable too, now that he’d spoken; Virgil would have placed him in another minute). “Oh, yeah,” he said. He had no clue how the guy recognized Virgil; it was a big class, and Virgil usually sat by the back. Maybe he noticed Virgil on his way in? Virgil guessed he sat kind of close to the door. It was possible.

“What do you think of the class?” Logan asked, and for some reason he sounded genuinely curious, not like he was just making small talk for the sake of it.

Virgil had absolutely skipped two class sessions and napped through another, but he found himself not wanting to admit it. “It’s alright, I guess. The professor’s kind of dry for me, but the readings are okay.” That was more or less true, although it was maybe the most positive spin on his opinion.

Logan nodded, adjusting his glasses and absorbing Virgil’s words like they were actually important information. “He is a bit long-winded sometimes. I wish he would be clearer about which things he intends to test us on.”

Virgil nodded vigorously. “Right? Like, what’s up with that? Why is he spending twenty minutes out of the hour telling us about, I don’t know farming practices, or whatever, if he’s just going to say ‘oh, but that stuff won’t be on the test, I just think it’s interesting’ at the end?”

“Well, it is interesting,” Logan said. (Virgil disagreed, but held his tongue.) “But I do wish he’d be clearer about what he intends for us to be taking away from his lectures ahead of time.”

Virgil nodded again, and there was a brief silence while he scrambled for something to say.

He glanced over Logan’s shoulder at the skating area; Janus was sitting on the edge with their legs dangling into the area, watching Remus, who was skateboarding back and forth at a speed that couldn’t be safe.

“So,” Virgil said, looking back to Logan because he was pretty sure he’d scream if he watched Remus tempt fate any longer, “you’re friends with Remus?”

Logan made a gesture that wasn’t quite a shrug. “I suppose so. He’s my roommate Roman’s twin, and the two of them spend a lot of time together, so I think I am friends with him by association. I’m much closer with Roman. Not that I don’t enjoy Remus’s company. I simply don’t know them as well yet.”

“Right, right,” Virgil said.

“How are you acquainted with them?” Logan asked.

“Oh, we met at a club during orientation,” Virgil said. “We hang out a lot. He’s pretty chill most of the time.” Well. “Chill” wasn’t really the right word to describe anything Remus did, ever. But it did describe Virgil’s feelings towards him.

“Ah, I see.” Logan nodded. “Do you know Janus at all?”

“Not really—I mean, Remus talks about them a ton, but we haven’t really met or anything,” Virgil said. “You do, though, right?”

“Yes, we were in the same group at orientation, and now we’re friends,” Logan said. “They and I like to deconstruct TV scripts together.”

That sounded incredibly nerdy, and Virgil wasn’t even sure what it meant. “Wow,” he said, not sure how else to react. “Fun?”

Logan smiled, and fuck, Virgil had managed to forget he was cute for a minute there, but it was back in full force now. “It’s lots of fun,” he agreed.

They made some more small talk—majors, hometowns, and so on. Logan actually paid attention to every word Virgil said, and he was surprisingly easy to open up to. He didn’t seem judgemental, instead accepting every word Virgil spoke as important. Virgil was actually starting to feel comfortable talking to him, which was… cool. Remus’s assessment of the way they’d get along evidently hadn’t been too off.

After a while, Logan looked over his shoulder at Remus and Janus; Remus had coaxed Janus onto the skateboard, and was pushing them back and forth, his hands clasped carefully around their waist and a huge grin spread across his face.

“Are you planning to try that?” Logan asked Virgil, gesturing at the little building off to the side that was renting out skateboards and safety gear.

Virgil hesitated. “I don’t know… are you?” he asked.

Logan made a considering face. “I might. I’ve never been on a skateboard before.”

“Wait, really?” Virgil asked. He hadn’t in a long time, but he’d been obsessed when he was twelve. He didn’t think that he’d been very good, but it hadn’t been for a lack of trying.

Logan shook his head. “No, never.”

“Well, we’ve got to change that,” Virgil found himself saying in spite of all the common sense that screams at him to not do something with such a high likelihood of making him look like a fool in front of a cute boy who was also turning out to be surprisingly easy to talk to, and thus a potential friend, which was honestly way more valuable than cuteness.

Logan looked pleased, though, like he’d been hoping Virgil would agree, so Virgil couldn’t find it in himself to regret the decision. “Together, then?” he inquired.

“Sure,” Virgil agreed, and they made their way into the building.

They rented a pair of skateboards and two sets of safety gear for the minimum time—thirty minutes, at $15 apiece, which was definitely higher than Remus had implied but Virgil did luckily have the cash to spare—and made their way out to the skating area.

Remus was now skating in tight, fast circles around Janus, who was holding perfectly still and calm at the lowest point of one of the curves built into the area. Virgil was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to be in the area without a skateboard of their own, but he also wasn’t about to tell them off and bring down the wrath of Remus upon himself. The two seemed engrossed in conversation, anway.

Logan led Virgil to a completely different space from that which Remus and Janus were taking up. Virgil was grateful; he didn’t feel like being made fun of, no matter how good-naturedly, by Remus at this time, and while Janus was likely interesting enough to keep Remus from following them over here, they would never have passed up the opportunity if Logan and Virgil had stayed anywhere nearby.

Logan stared at the skateboard he’d set down before himself on a flat space, looking vaguely perplexed. “You just climb on, right?” he inquired.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “You can, like, kick off with your foot to move, and stuff. Kind of like riding a bike.” He instantly regretted the comparison, and tacked on a hasty, “Only, not that much.”

Logan made a small “huh” noise. “Interesting.” He cautiously put a foot on the skateboard and tested his weight on it. “Oh, I do not like that.”

Virgil chuckled a little, tugging at the strap of his helmet to make sure it was securely fastened. “Yeah, it’s a pretty weird feeling, huh?”

“The ground should be stable,” Logan said emphatically, staring at the skateboard that he was still barely resting one foot on with an expression on his face like it had personally wronged him.

Virgil snickered. “Can’t say I disagree with you there, buddy. But seriously, it’s not too bad once you get used to it.” He hopped onto his own skateboard as if to prove his point, but he hadn’t realized he’d set it up on the barest incline, and as soon as his second foot left the ground it rolled right out from under him.

“Are you okay?” Logan gasped, reaching to offer him a hand up.

Virgil half laughed, because that was the best option just at this moment, trying his best to ignore the wish to go hide in a hole in the ground until everyone left and then never talk to Logan ever again. “I guess I deserved that,” he said, trying to shrug it off. “Got too cocky.”

“You still shouldn’t get hurt! Are you okay?” Logan insisted, hands fluttering vaguely like he was resisting an instinct to check Virgil for injuries.

Virgil’s tailbone was a little sore, which he was absolutely not going to admit to Logan under any circumstances when he’d only known the guy for half an hour, but aside from that—“I’m fine,” he insisted, brushing himself off. “Uh, thanks for the concern, though. I appreciate it,” he added awkwardly.

“Are you sure? You—” Logan began.

There was a loud cry of “FUCK!” from just out of sight that was undeniably Remus’s voice, followed by a crashing noise.

“Oh, fuck indeed,” Virgil said under his breath, and scooped up his skateboard. “Come on.”

Remus was rolling over as Virgil and Logan came into view of him; Janus was already kneeling by his side, worry plain to see on their face.

“It was a very cool fall, don’t worry,” Remus yelled over at Virgil, pushing themself up on their elbows. “Ow, fuck.”

“That is not the part I’m worried about, idiot!” Virgil called back as Remus gingerly poked at his knees, which were both scraped and bleeding.

“No no, I’m fine, leave me alone, Virge,” Remus insisted hastily, making some complicated hand waving motions and glancing meaningfully at Janus.

Janus looked very put out by this. “No, you know what, I’m inclined to let him scold you! Why would you not wear knee pads?” they demanded, grabbing Remus’s elbow, helping them to their feet, and guiding them to the side of the rink with motions far gentler than their words.

Virgil paused, watching to see if Janus needed help, but now that it seemed they had it under control much more inclined to give into Remus’s wishes and let them handle it.

“Because anarchy,” Remus said, grinning up at Janus and leaning all his weight on them, legs shaking slightly.

Janus pushed him to sit on a bench with a fury that still managed to be gentle. “First of all, that is not what anarchy is, and second of all, even if it were, that’s still an objectively stupid decision to—”

“Oh, no, what a terrible mistake I’ve made,” Remus said with a shit-eating grin that told Virgil he knew the definition of anarchy perfectly well. “If only there were a smart, sexy nonbinary person around who knew all about anarchy, who could tell me what it really is while they tenderly bandage my wounds!” They cast themself back on the bench dramatically, draping the back of their hand across their forehead.

Janus flushed slightly. “You could have just asked,” they said, and though their voice still had an annoyed bite it was softer now. “You didn’t have to get hurt before I gave you more attention.” They sank to their knees on the ground in front of him, examining the scrapes on his knees.

Remus sat back up, reached out, and cupped Janus’s cheek in his hand, leaning far into their personal space. “Trust me, babe,” he said, and then something too low for Virgil to catch that made Janus flush a brilliant shade of red.

Remus grinned and sat back, his fingers slowly dragging against Janus’s skin as he removed his hand from their face. “I have a first aid kit somewhere in here,” he said in a more normal tone, digging in his pockets and procuring a small white plastic box. He hesitated, eyes flicking to Janus. “If you don’t want—”

Janus rolled their eyes and shook their head. “Give me that.” They grabbed the kit and flipped it open, pinning down Remus’s legs with their elbows. “Don’t move.”

Remus only rested his cheek on his fist, gazing down at Janus with a look on his face far softer and fonder than Virgil thought they’d ever admit to, should he call them out on it.

“So,” Logan said in a low voice to Virgil, “please help me out here. Are they dating? I can’t tell.”

“I’m so glad I’m not the only one who’s unclear on that,” Virgil responded in a similar tone, going to go pick up Remus’s abandoned skateboard. “I—I don’t think so? From the way Remus talked about this beforehand, I would have been sure not. But then they—” He gestured vaguely at Remus and Janus.

“Exactly!” Logan agreed. “I wasn’t even sure if Janus liked them back before we got here, from how they talked about him.”

Virgil snorted, watching Janus gently sponging Remus’s knees clean with a shockingly tender expression on their face, which up until now had been haughty. “That must have been a trip.”

“You have no idea.” Logan shook his head. “Alright. I will continue to allow it to be a frustrating mystery, since you don’t seem to have the answer either. Do you wish to attempt skateboarding again before we have to return these?”

Virgil glanced at his watch; there were only seven minutes left. “I dunno. It feels like Remus getting hurt kind of killed the mood for it a little, you know?”

“I can understand that,” Logan agreed.

They checked their skateboards and safety gear back in (Virgil deposited Remus’s skateboard next to the bench he was on as they went), and then made their way back outside. The sun was starting to reach just the sort of angle in the sky where it was annoying no matter which direction you were facing, so Logan and Virgil retreated to the shade of one of the nearby trees.

“Did you know,” Logan began, examining a fallen leaf on the ground, “that you can actually eat magnolia blooms?”

“Wait, oh my god, yeah!” Virgil sat up. “I haven’t done it before, but I really like making preserves.” It was a good activity for days when his anxiety just wouldn’t go away no matter what he did, because it took a long time and a lot of hands-on work that always helped to take himself out of his thoughts for a while.

Logan lit up, adjusting his glasses and peering at Virgil with keen interest in his dark brown eyes. “Really? That’s fascinating! Tell me more!”

That was honestly all it took to get Virgil to start explaining his hobby, and if he’d thought Logan had been paying attention to him when he talked before, that was nothing compared to this eager interest to learn that Logan was now displaying. He asked just the right questions to egg Virgil on and on, and occasionally interjected facts of his own, some of which Virgil knew and some of which he didn’t. It sounded like Logan didn’t have much actual experience with preserving food, but a decent framework of theoretical knowledge.

“I wish I could see what that looks like in practice,” Logan said at one point, as Virgil explained the way fruit jellying worked.

“I mean, I bet there’s videos on YouTube,” Virgil said thoughtfully.

“Yes, but it’s not the same, you know?”

Virgil turned this over. “Tell you what. Jellying is a lot of work, and I don’t think we could really do it in a dorm kitchen, but here. Give me your number. I’m down to show you some kind of preserving method. I’m sure we can figure out a way to make it work with what we’ve got.” He dug his phone out and opened it to a new contact page.

Logan’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“For sure, dude.” Virgil handed him the phone and watched as he punched his number in. “It’s been a while since I did any kitchen work anyway, I could use the destressor.”

“I would love that, thank you!” Logan said with an enthusiasm that was absolutely catching.

Virgil chuckled. “No problem.” As he reaccepted the phone from Logan, he noticed the time at the top of the screen. “Oh, shit, it’s nearly three. Do you have anywhere to be?”

Logan blinked. “Really? It doesn’t feel like it’s been long at all.”

“I know, right?” Virgil agreed with a small laugh. Talking to Logan was surprisingly enjoyable, given how rare it was for Virgil to really like the company of new people.

“I do have a paper due tonight that I haven’t started yet,” Logan said thoughtfully.

“Dude, what? Oh my god.” Virgil felt the onset of deadline panic setting in, even though it wasn’t even his own deadline. “What do you mean, you haven’t started?”

“Oh, it’s fine.” Logan waved his concern away. “It’s only three pages, I can do it no problem by then.”

“But, like, research? Drafts?”

“No, I already know it all. I can find sources to back me up easily. Trust me, I know what I can and can’t get away with when writing a paper. I only need to worry about drafts and research when it’s five pages or more. Anything less than that I can write the day it’s due and still get an A.” Logan spoke with an easy confidence that would be annoying in almost anyone else, but that somehow couldn’t quite manage to put Virgil off. Not after the absolute delight Logan had shown over the last half hour as he learned from Virgil.

“If you say so. I still hate that,” Virgil told him.

“That is what most people say when they learn about my homework methods.” Logan nodded. “Should we gather up our companions—oh.” His eyes widened as he looked over Virgil’s shoulder. “Um.”

Virgil turned to look too. “Wow. Uh.”

Remus and Janus were—well, to put it bluntly, they were making out. Much more extensively than was probably appropriate, given the public setting. Remus had Janus backed against a wall, with their legs around his waist as he held them up and kissed them, sloppy and desperate and gleeful, like he was on a mission to map and memorize the shape of their mouth. Janus was clinging to him tightly and kissing back like they’d never get another chance to.

“Um,” Logan repeated again, frantically looking anywhere but at their friends. “Well. That is. Something.”

Virgil laughed a little, also looking away. “Yeah… I mean. I guess now our question about dating is maybe answered?”

“I hope so,” Logan said fervently. “However, just at this moment, I feel a strong inclination to, ah, pretend I don’t know either of them.” He chuckled, but Virgil got the distinct sense he was only half joking.

Virgil snickered. “I mean, I feel like they’d deserve it at this point if we deserted them. Want to head back to campus together?”

Logan perked up. “Really?”

“Sure, dude. You seem pretty cool.” Virgil offered an awkward fistbump, and after staring wide-eyed at it for a brief second, Logan returned it.

“You seem cool as well,” he said. “Shall we?”

“Let’s do it.” Virgil got to his feet and followed Logan to the bus stop.

Virgil wasn’t normally one to get his hopes up, but he hoped this Logan guy would stick around for a while. He seemed like exactly the sort of person Virgil could have an amazing friendship with.

Taglist: @fivehargreeves05

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herradhighpriestess · 3 years

Text

Love Grows in the Valley of Death

Chapter Nine: The $64,000 Question

As Dr. Wakefield began rummaging through the ugly yellow folders in the rows of tall, grey steel cabinets, each containing four drawers of files, across town in Helena’s kitchen, Tig kept his grip tight enough that his touch brushed into near painful as his eyes bored into her, “please,” he finally growled, his tone reeking of outright, face down begging.

Helena pressed her dry lips together and tried to control her breathing, distracted by his ironclad hold, making it difficult to form words. “Can you pretend you didn’t hear the message or see the flowers?” she managed to stammer.

Tig shook his head before she lapsed into silence. He lifted a hand to pinch her chin with his fingertips as he dropped his face until their lips were a breath apart. “Talk to me,” he demanded on a whisper.

In the space before Helena spoke, her mind whirred with the intensity of the turbine engine of a jumbo jet. “What do I say? Will he end up hurting me?” Helena thought before she stopped being able to think when Tig pressed his lips to hers. His kiss turned urgent, and she felt herself left breathless when he lifted his lips, foreign patience shrouded him as he gave her time to think.

Helena blinked and found herself unable to look away from Tig’s probing, penetrative stare. The press of his body made Helena fight competing lust-fueled thoughts as she cleared her throat. “How do I fit in?” she finally asked.

Tig frowned, unsure of what she was asking, and Helena continued before he could speak.

“How do I fit into your world?” Helena asked as her mind once again conjured the seemingly inerasable image of the skinny, glossy-lipped, spike-heeled, gonorrhea ridden, parasitic whore trying to play with Tig’s stick.

Tig dropped a strong hand to encircle Helena’s wrist, the tips of his middle finger and thumb overlapping. He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to the center of her palm. Tig squeezed her smaller hand, free from scars, lines and nails gaudily encrusted with rhinestones before he spoke.

“I should be askin’ you the same thing baby,” Tig murmured on a heady rasp, his exhale a hot tease against her skin.

Helena drowned in the electrical sensation that was ignited the nanosecond he pressed his lips to her palm, the wiry strands of his facial hair, near-singeing where it brushed against her skin.

Helena blinked hard as she tried to collect her flurrying thoughts, she was suddenly a snow globe that had been violently shaken and left to find herself again amongst the falling chunks of artificial snow. “How does he fit in?” Helena asked herself. “How do I tell him that he scares the nightmares away, that since the moment I met him, he filled a space inside me that was empty?” Helena asked herself as her face turned a brilliant, fuchsia hue as she let her mind wander down a sexual rabbit hole.

“Because you’re different,” Helena finally managed and added in a quick stammer as Tig’s hands slid down to rest on her hips. “You’re not like the rest of them.”

Tig squeezed her taut hips, massaging the supple flesh through her jeans. “Who do ya think I am doll?” he asked on a heady tease.

“I think you’re dangerous,” Helena whispered on an exhale as Tig tugged her closer and slid one hand up the length of her spine, his fingertips brushing each of the protruding vertebrate until he could tangle his fingers in the silken fall of her hair.

Tig couldn’t even pretend to deny the veracity of her words as he tugged on her hair until her neck pulled taut and Helena met his unblinking eyes. “Not towards you in any way baby, nothing bad will ever happen to you again,” Tig rasped and crushed his lips to hers, stealing her breath with the intensity of his want.

Helena was forced to surrender in Tig’s embrace, his hands everywhere at once while holding her immobile.

Tig’s strength was equal parts frightening and protective, his physical intimidation was not lost on himself as he settled closer to her.

“I’m not the kind of man you think I am,” Tig whispered as he pressed his lips against her ear and smoothed one hand down her side and cupped a hand under the curve of her bottom.

“What do you think I have wrong?” Helena asked on a low murmur.

“That I’m some kind of monster, inhuman,” Tig growled in a low tone.

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” Helena said softly and lifted a hand to cup his jaw. Tig captured her wrist, keeping her palm pressed hard to his face. Helena shivered as she felt the stubble against her warm palm and could feel his words vibrate against her skin as he spoke.

Helena almost didn’t hear him add in a strangled whisper against her flushed skin over the thundering beat of her heart. “Please don’t reject me,” Tig growled.

As Tig and Helena’s red blood cells bloated and their pupils pulsed with the increase of their collective and rising blood pressure, across town in the Human Resources office at St. Thomas’s, Dr. Andrew Wakefield pulled open a metal drawer and pawed through the folders until he found Helena’s personnel file.

Andrew began to whistle a lively show tune as he opened Helena’s folder on top of the HR secretary’s desk.

For a second Andrew looked like a reptile, so much so, one would’ve expected a forked tongue to slip out from his thin lips and wet his twisted smile as he read her name aloud from the sunny yellow folder tab.

Onassis, Helena.

Andrew skimmed her contact information, most of which he already knew, before he fished his phone out of his pocket and took pictures of each page in the manila file folder.

Andrew replaced the file and easily slipped out of St. Thomas’s before he casually made his way back to his hotel room.

As the prominent and adored Floridian doctor returned to his hotel room, back in Helena’s kitchen, the air had become charged, and Tig found himself closer and closer to losing the mere semblance of control he possessed.

Helena found her voice as Tig began to tug open the top button of her jeans and deftly lowered her zipper. “No, I, I can’t,” Helena began before she trailed off into silence and desperately tried to avoid his gaze.

“Ya can’t or ya won’t?” Tig hissed, his exhale fell from lungs surrounding his heart that began to gallop in its opaque pericardial sac.

Tig never stopped his touch even as Helena unsuccessfully pushed at his hands and incoherently protested. “I can’t right now,” Helena finally spit, her anxiety had melted into vulnerable defensiveness.

Tig tried to lessen his hold but failed as he took a deep breath in through his nose as he softened his tone but fell flat in an effort to blunt the crassness of his words. “I’ll do anything you tell me, just let me fuck you baby,” he grumbled, his words delivered under the growing roughness of his touch.

Helena couldn’t help but laugh nervously once she caught her breath and dropped her hands to close around Tig’s wrists, simultaneously brilliantly blushing at his ragged admission. She shook her head, “I should probably tell you something,” Helena lamely managed.

“Tell me,” Tig said on a rasp as he buried his face in the curve of her neck, his exhale causing her to break out in goosebumps.

Helena danced her fingertips up his forearms and along the curve of his triceps as she tried to formulate a coherent sentence. “I need some air,” she said in more of a shrill tone than she would’ve liked.

“Could we go outside for a few minutes?” Helena asked on a breathy moan as Tig slid a hand to cup over the clothed junction of her thighs, shuddering with the urgent want to sheath himself in her wet center.

“Just a few,” Tig finally conceded on a frustrated groan.

Helena looked past his shoulder as she raised her hands to his chest, feeling his heart pounding under her palm. Tig let her slide along the edge of the counter away from him as he drummed his fingertips on the outside of his thighs.

“Don’t fuck this up,” Tig told himself as he followed Helena outside.

They each settled into the new turquoise chairs that Helena had picked up at the hardware store, the southwestern round chair pads were still stiff with newness but stood out brightly on the sagging porch.

Helena tapped the arm of the metal chair. “I bought these the day I moved here.”

Tig squeezed the cold arms of the matching chair, “from Harvest’s?” he asked, not sure how to have a casual conversation with her when all he wanted to do was fuck her until he forgot how to spell his name.

Helena nodded, “that place is great, I think I’ve been there more than the grocery store.”

Tig nodded and fumbled for his freshly opened pack of cigarettes out of his pants pocket as Helena directed her gaze out at the overgrown yard that needed countless full weekends to clean up and who even knew how many trips back and forth to Harvest’s for mulch, weed killer and topsoil.

Tig was grateful to whoever was on the other end of the incoming call that made his phone buzz in his other pocket.

Helena moved her eyes off a trio of overgrown Meyer lemon trees, their wickedly sharp thorns ready and waiting to rip the flesh from anyone who dared supplant them, to look over at Tig as he frowned down at the caller ID.

“I gotta get this,” Tig murmured, suppressing the anger from his tone that he was being pulled away from her. Helena nodded and watched Tig disappear into the house before he answered the call.

“Yeah,” Tig grumbled tersely as he picked up Clay’s incoming call.

“Where are you?” Clay barked, irritated that Tig had been ignoring a laundry list of calls and messages.

“I’m just working on some things,” Tig benignly answered.

“Well brother, we’re meeting with the Irish in a few hours. Can you break away from your ‘things’ for a while?” Clay added with a chuckle, recalling Gemma telling him what she’d seen in the grocery store aisle with toiletries and over-the-counter products.

Tig walked over to the kitchen counter and stared down at the chipped tiles on the edge and ivory-colored grout lines as he tried to come up with an excuse to not have to leave.

As Tig was trying to come up with an excuse that would hold water to skip out on Club business, Helena’s phone chimed from where she had left it by the stainless-steel toaster.

Tig glanced over his shoulder and could see Helena still sitting on the rear porch, staring out at the yard just as she had been when Clay called.

“Tig? You there?” Clay asked when Tig fell deathly silent as he picked up her phone and glanced at the message preview that popped up on the phone.

“I gotta call you back,” Tig muttered abruptly and hung up on Clay.

Tig clenched his teeth until his jaw popped as he read the first sentence of the incoming text message. Helena’s locked screen kept him from reading any further than the three words displayed on the smudged screen.

“Remember this baby?” Tig read aloud before another message arrived. Tig squinted down at the small square photo that was too tiny to discern much detail.

Helena flinched when Tig stomped back outside and held her phone out towards her, the screen facing her.

“What is this?”

Helena’s face first drained of color as she swallowed hard and was then replaced with a wave of defensiveness as she reached out for her phone. Tig held it just out of her reach, “tell me who sent this.”

Helena blew out a low breath before she moved her eyes from the rectangular screen to settle on his face. “Fine,” she finally said in a heated tone as she began to flush. “Give me the phone first,” she demanded as she held her hand out.

Tig pressed his lips together. Feeling his salivary glands leak and a trill of excitement stimulate his nervous system as Helena’s indignation at his invasive encroachment into secrets she wanted to keep hermitically sealed in a titanium coffin, buried under three million miles of earth.

Tig’s watched her eyes grow wide as her irises practically vibrated in their sockets. In the center of his brain, his pituitary gland ejaculated hormones that further fanned his lust as her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

Helena felt the tiniest lessening of the electrical heaviness in the air when Tig gently placed her phone in her waiting palm. They both felt a tingling jolt as his fingertips brushed against her open hand.

Tig sat back down on the firm chair pad and watched Helena unlock her phone and read the messages. He watched her eyes move back and forth over the words before she began to speak.

Helena spoke without meeting his eyes, never taking her gaze off her phone clutched in her hand. Her voice grew in strength as she gripped her phone so tight that the skin over her knuckles turned white as it was pulled taut.

“Before I started in the neurology ward, I heard all sorts of rumors about several of the physician department heads and a game they played.”

Tig waited as she gathered her words, willing to give her eons to continue, as long as she would speak only to him.

“Dr. Gatez, with a Z, was the one who started everything. He paid off a guy in maintenance to put cameras in the bathrooms, changing rooms and staff lounges. They had competitions for best pictures and videos recorded. They set aside one department head meeting a month to talk about their other conquests,” Helena said before closing her eyes and resumed leaning back in the metal chair.

Tig didn’t have to wait long for her to continue.

“Besides their surveillance fun, they would often use the footage to blackmail people they found in compromising footage or threaten to release still frames. Sometimes they’d try to leverage more with their threats,” Helena said as she looked down at her phone and reread the simple message and tapped on the photo, enlarging it.

Helena was transported back to the events she had moved three-thousand miles away from as she stared at the screen.

Helena turned the phone’s face towards Tig, she cleared her throat as his eyes fell on an image of her emerging from the employee shower. She positioned her fingers to cover most of her nudity.

“After I was sent this and a few that were similar, there was another message that said I could find out how to keep that picture and more from being circulated to the entire staff.”

Helena settled back in the chair and turned the screen back towards herself as she struggled for a moment to find her words.

“One of the doctors told me that all I had to do was perform a few free favors and I’d get the originals.”

Tig felt himself hit with a simultaneous tsunami on each hemisphere of his brain as he battled vastly different thoughts about what Helena described. Tig was both compelled to comfort her while at the same time he felt a coiled charge of excitement in his body as he wanted to rip her phone out of her hand to see the uncensored image of her wet nakedness.

“He tried to take payment when I said no,” Helena started to say before her voice broke and she sniffed hard. “There was a security guard close by,” she added and pinched the bridge of her nose as a headache decided to start brewing behind her eyes.

Tig finally spoke when Helena didn’t seem like she was going to offer more. “What happened after that?”

“I filed a report with the hospital and police department but of all places the cameras weren’t working was the parking garage and the security guard never got a good look at him. It became my word against the esteemed Dr. Wakefield and Gatez,” Helena spit.

Helena blew out a low breath. “The threats quickly escalated, and I tapped into my trust and left everything behind. I didn’t even put them down as a job reference for St. Thomas.”

Tig left his chair and dropped to a knee in front of her. If someone had been watching, without words, it would appear he was proposing. “Let me in,” Tig breathed as he pulled her phone from her tight grip and set it aside. He gathered her hands and smoothed his fingers over her soft, unscarred skin.

Tig pressed his lips to her palms before he buried his face in her lap. “Please let me in,” he begged.

Helena stared down at Tig’s head, his face pressed against the tops of her thighs, his ragged exhales were hot through the denim.

Tig held himself statue still on the outside while inside his chest cavity, his heart leapfrogged itself with its rapid beating.

Helena lifted her hands and slid her fingertips through his hair, the strands tickling her palms.

Tig closed his eyes and smoothed his hands up and down the outside of Helena’s thighs as she rubbed her fingertips in slow circles on his scalp.

As Helena and Tig remained in silence, across town at the Clubhouse, Piney was eating a second sandwich, the new anti-nausea medication had made his appetite return with a vengeance.

Inside his body, the cancerous cells continued to divide. Piney’s discomfort was trapped behind a narcotic wall that was difficult to maintain, the breakthrough pain made his spine practically bow with its intensity.

Piney lowered the volume on the game show rerun as Cassie brought him an extra slice of pie she had brought from St. Thomas’s cafeteria. As the two of them talked about bland topics and then shouted out their answers to the game show trivia, back on Helena’s rear porch, Tig squeezed her hips until she hissed from the pressure as her whispered words fell around his ears.

“Can I trust you, Tig?” Helena asked. He began to nod his head the nanosecond she was done speaking.

“I need something, “ Helena began and trailed off as she lost confidence in her words.

“Talk to me,” Tig demanded as he snapped his head up to find her eyes on him.

“I want,” Helena began before she paused briefly. “I need to know I mean something to you, I’m not disposable.”

Tig rose to his feet and pulled her up and out of the blue wrought-iron chair to join him. “You’re everything,” he growled and crushed his lips to hers.

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helenazbmrskai · 4 years

Text

Not Alone

Title Not Alone

Pairing Yoongi x OC

Summary University is kicking your ass so you always make sure to dedicate a day for yourself and take time to pamper your body and soul. However, you’re cautious around Yoongi your roommate and double-check the d-day to prevent accidents. You're not a fan of revealing any skin because of your insecurities but it’s just happening to be the day when you are - not so alone.

Genre university au, roommate au, romance and fluff, smut

Warning(s) smut (body worshipping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, messy sex, first time, virgin reader, dirty talk, vanilla sex, yoongi has a virgin kink but not explicitly mentioned) implication of insecure reader, shy and curvy reader

Word count: 9k

Masterlist

This universe is related to my other fic I wrote recently ’one time boy space friend’ you can read that one here.

Washing the excess shaving cream off of my hand I grab my phone I previously placed on the toilet’s folded lid lightly humming the outline of the song currently playing. The new playlist Yoongi recommended is full of bangers as always I have no doubt his fate was eventually to end up as a music major. I take a glance at my reflection when I was able to secure the new position for my phone on the laundry basket with the top slightly open reminding me that I need to do laundry if I want to have clothes to wear.

I take a glance at my reflection removing the fog that made the lines of my face blurry with a towel hanging next to the sink on a hook realising later that I used Yoongi’s looking back at the sheepish smile that greets me in the mirror I placed the fabric back hoping that Yoongi won’t mind.

An unknown rap song’s first beats suddenly interrupted by an incoming call that the familiar piano version of my favourite song signalled. I smile seeing the callers ID, placing the toner back to its dust-filled spot next to Yoongi’s shaving cream I make sure to use the right towel this time to dry my hands with before swiping right on the call.

”Hey, What’s the matter?” I answer it with a huge grin plastered on my face making my cheeks ride up into a chipmunk-like smile.

Our class was cancelled at the last minute so I wasn’t expecting a call from her she told me while we were waiting for the instructor to arrive that she has plans with his boyfriend Jimin. Only having calculus that day after an exchanged heated curses for our lazy professor for not e-mailing about the reschedule I happily took a sweet nap and made an easy breakfast I normally don’t have time to consume or even make in the morning I was able to get my relaxing time to start earlier so it meant more time for me since Yoongi supposedly took the afternoon shift.

This piece of information I remembered while chewing on my sandwich as I thanked the gods that I overheard his conversation about the shift change last night when I went to get my late-night snack but seeing the date expired on the comfort food I had to engage in a yoghurt instead.

”Y/N. Are you home?” She asked matching my good mood in the background I heard clinking noises of a pan she must be cooking. I insert my head through the large black t-shirt’s hole as I started to freeze standing here only in my undergarments the effect of the hot shower faded leaving me in the significantly colder bathroom.

”Of course. I started my pamper routine. I cannot tell you how good it feels to be hairless. If only my hair would grow this fast.” She chuckles hearing my banter the faint sounds of crepitation usually the hot oil makes overpowering her giggle for a few seconds. I remember the sandwich I ate this morning around ten-ish that did not prove to be enough. I get sidetracked with what should I make for lunch.

”Oh, so Yoongi is working?” Knowing about my only one rule regarding this d-day I like to call it is that no man should be around when I’m wearing this revealing clothing. He only saw me wearing jeans and yoga pants before these jelly-like legs cannot make a debut in front of eyes outside of mine.

”Yep.” I confirm. I take a look at the time I still have lots of time to relax before I should start that assignment I postponed.

I have everything planned out since Yoongi usually comes home from work in a grumpy state he likes to shower first and then he retreats into his room to do his assignments and sometimes he writes a song or the song even could be the assignment itself I honestly don’t know how’s everyday life as a music major. Yoongi is not exactly the talkative type.

My silent activity is helping his concentration and the best thing is that I have the apartment by myself to do what I please and leave the comfort of my room wearing what I please without worrying.

The best would be if I could rent out my own apartment but I know I wouldn’t be able to pay it by myself and the fact that Yoongi and I share the expenses of the bill makes things so much more easier.

”Why did you call though? I’m sure it’s not because you already miss me.” Tired of holding the phone up I place it back where it was before leaving the call on speakers so I can rub the cocoa scented lotion into the skin on my legs.

”Right. I almost forgot. Jin taught you that Mexican dish that I don’t know how to pronounce its name, right?” Her voice fades a little mid-sentence probably changed ears hearing the cooking noises seeping through the background she seemed very busy.

”What about it?” I question closing the lid of the lotion after I rub the remaining cream on my hand onto my neck so nothing goes to waste.

”I need the recipe.” She demands. I laugh how desperate she sounds through the phone. I make my way out of the bathroom I need my notebook since I didn’t memorise the dish I only made it once and as it was previously stated with the help of Jin.

”Hold on I don’t remember where I left the notes.” I arrive at the kitchen area placing the phone on the counter I begin rummaging through the drawers bending down to peek at the content of each. Spoons and forks. The second one where Yoongi placed the aprons and towels my notebook must be in the last one. ”So, what are the plans for today?” I ask while still searching for the black shiny cover of my notebook.

”Well, I wanted to cook something Italian since Jimin told me once he wanted to try it out but a crucial ingredient is missing so I thought about making that one you told me about a few weeks ago at Jin’s birthday party. After I’m finally done with this shit I’m going to sneak into his room to give him the blowjob of his life while he’s playing some shit games boys do and tell him lunch is ready.” The huge breath she took before starting the word vomiting makes me praise her lung capacity.

Finally. The book was under the aprons what a hassle. I straighten up turning the pages when I hear the front door opening and shut soon after. I turn to see the face of the intruder as I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen with my hair evidently wet from the shower I took earlier only in my panties and a huge ass shirt to cover myself with.

Yoongi drops his coffee-stained shirt by the foot of the couch the angle is letting me see the living room area without a problem but he can’t clearly see the kitchen from there but my relief is not long-lasting as my friend decides to choose that moment to speak drawing Yoongi’s attention to where I’m standing.

”Y/N are you still there? Shit. I burnt my finger.” Grabbing the phone off the counter I switch off the speaker option and push the device against my ear.

”Yeah, um, I’ll send you the recipe via message. Good luck. Bye.” I aggressively push the red phone button at the bottom left side of the screen until the call ends. Hearing my voice Yoongi walks through the door separating the living room and the kitchen to halt his steps when he takes the image in.

It’s not one of those best times to ponder over how good looking he’s after finishing work and how he always smells like freshly brewed coffee which is not a surprise knowing the fact that he works at a coffee shop near our rented place.

He doesn’t wear the shirt uniform it must be the one he got rid of because of the stains today he wears a simple white t-shirt with washed-out blue jeans. Focusing on his face again I see that his eyes no longer studying my face instead his gaze dipped lower and I swear he's not so subtle about ogling at my exposed legs. My legs!

”You’re … early.” I talk first considering my options. A, I can still make a run for it but the damage is already done. He saw me. Or B, I can try to make small talk pretending that nothing is embarrassing at all just to later enter my room and dig a hole with all of my self-pity and scream into my pillow.

”Um, there was a shift change but I finished 2 hours early in return.” He explains this time his gaze was on my face the entire time no more strayed glimpses. Fuck. I should have paid attention to the whole conversation. ”Don’t you .. have class normally this time around?” He trails off a faint trace of blush appears on his porcelain skin. I use the notebook to hide my panty line that peeks out of the shirt.

”Class cancelled.” I’m horrified how my voice sounds so high pitched the embarrassment paints my cheeks bright red. ”Um, I have something to do in my room so I’ll be there.” I use the lame excuse to escape from Yoongi when I close the door behind me I close my eyes as well because of the extreme humiliation I had to go through.

My phone buzzes in hand I suddenly remember the recipe I promised. I write a quick message to her attaching the picture of the ingredients and notes to help her with the preparations. Now since I’m done with the responsibilities I can swim in my tears for the time being.

I can’t believe after months of caution fate decided to take away from me the deserved me time days. Yoongi is probably weirded out by me too I don’t know how to look him in the eye from now on and it’s a serious problem. For lords heaven, we live together! There’s no way I can avoid him without being obvious about it.

I mean maybe I’m just overreacting. It’s Yoongi we are talking about. He most of the time doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything he certainly won’t mention it and for obvious reasons I won’t either so I can just leave things like that. Just acting as usual like he didn’t saw my legs and my black underwear not to mention he is the very first one to see it I mean outside of my family of course. He’s a boy. No. A man. And he saw me underdressed like that.

It’s okay Y/N, let’s see the bright side at least he saw me when I was shaved. Well, that doesn’t help. Not at all.

”Shit. I’m hungry.”

I waited an hour and forty minutes to be exact despite the rumble of my stomach I sat down to start the book one of my friends lent me to read and I’m over a quarter of the pages when I decided enough is enough.

I waited long enough so he must be cooped up in his room slash studio for the rest of the day. But to be extra cautious I peeked out before fully leaving the safety of my room. I stop once I step into the corridor listening for any noises that might indicate Yoongi has indeed occupied his nest the soft sounds of the synthesizer helps me to relax I leisurely make my way then in the direction of the kitchen.

As I flip the switch the room is enveloped in light. My favourite mug is sitting on top of the counter even though I don’t remember leaving it there. I walk to take a closer look the mug is filled with coffee it’s in a light brown colour so it must a latte. It smells like latte indeed.

My favourite drink. There’s a note glued to the bottom of the mug it’s a messy handwriting and I don’t have to guess to know to whom this belongs to. How did he know my favourite coffee order?

”Sorry for startling you earlier. - myg”

The simple worded note even had his initials at the end. Realising that I never tried out his coffee made me curious about the taste. He works as a barista so It cannot be bad. I’m always late for class so I never had the chance before going into the shop when he’s on duty and order a drink from him.

Most of the time I’m saving on it and just use the shared coffee machine. Don’t blame me I’m just a broke university student.

But if I drink this I won’t be able to sleep it’s pretty late. Fuck it. I’m going to drink it. Not that the unholy time for coffee consumption deterred me before and picked up on some of Yoongi’s personal characteristics I think I can confidently say he doesn’t care either.

I bite into my lip while carefully straightening the lines out on the sticky note. After I was convinced the note won’t come off of his door I leave to go to bed.

”Thanks for the coffee. I liked it. – Y/N.”

***

”Can you guys stop shovelling food into your mouths for a millisecond. I’m serious!” Hitting the table for further emphasis.

Rori and F/N digging through a pile of food before our morning class is something I got used to first as I befriended them and it doesn’t bother me any other time but I wanted some serious advice for once and they don’t even stop digging to say well that’s was awkward. Or shit that sucks.

Not that I don’t know that without them telling me. I appreciated the note and the subtle apology he didn’t phrase it like hey dummy I’m sorry for seeing your sausage legs my bad. Also, it would be unlikely, too wordy for him he’s tight-lipped even in messages. I don’t remember he ever told me like a two full sentence in one go.

”Serious for what Y/N? He saw your underwear and legs. Tell us if you display your boobs or something. Now, I would be interested.” Rolling my eyes at the sarcastic remark I steal one of her favourite apple pie sticks for good measures.

”Hey! I was going to eat that.” She pouts but I take another big bite out of it. It’s too sweet for my liking but everything for the even sweeter revenge. If there’s one thing I learned about these two throughout the years of knowing them is that they take their food very seriously. ”Look. We love you, that’s why I’m going to tell you this. It’s not a big deal.” She pats my cheek before picking up her fork again.

”So what happened F/N. Did you gave Jimin the blowjob of his life?” I used a quote mark at the end of the sentence just how she phrased it yesterday. Rori is more interested in that, of course, there’s nothing more important than sex.

”Let me say the food was cold once we were finished.” She chuckled bashfully. Do I have the right set of friends? Maybe I should be pickier about who I call as a friend.

”So he’s big?” Rori asked with a smirk and I almost spitted out the diet coke onto the dining table. We are in a fucking coffee shop for god damn good. Thankfully not the one Yoongi works for but I think he has morning class so he won’t be working either way.

”Please don’t go into details.” I plea and Rori presents me with a devilish grin while picking the chicken breasts out of my salad.

”It’s fine Y/N. I was a virgin too before Jimin. Your time will come, not that it’s a choice.” F/N tries to console me.

”It’s a choice just not mine.” I murmur it under my nose stabbing my salad with the fork before chewing on it without the meat it’s quite sour.

”Yeah. It’s because you and F/N are both have big sticks up your asses.” Used to her blunt remarks I’m not even hurt or surprised for that matter. The busy cafe drowns out the voices of their inappropriate talk at least.

”It’s not our fault that you fuck every man with a pulse.” F/N retorts back with a giggle satisfied with the remark we exchange high fives.

”How do you know it’s a requirement?” Rori lifts one of her brows making us do gagging motions.

”Ugh, That’s disgusting.” I abandon the food on my plate that was a bit too much and we are in the middle of breakfast.

”A person cannot even joke here? I wasn’t serious. Duh.” I should really search for those new friends.

”That’s something I can believe.” The insult wasn’t even spoken out too loud but she heard me all the same and it earned a kick under the table from Rori with his high heels, I returned the glare she sent my way.

***

”Oh, hi.” I step aside to let Yoongi enter, he furrows his brows in concentration if I wasn’t running late I would ponder over the fact how he measures my body by centimetres. I fidget with my earrings but without a mirror, it’s a difficult task to carry out.

”I thought we’re going to meet with the guys at 8.” Realising the motive behind his stare I nod furiously.

”Yeah. But Rori accepted that guy’s offer to taste wines and she’s afraid she’s going to be abducted so me and F/N will accompany her.” I tell him and he doesn’t seem pleased I wasn’t either at first but I hope he won’t do anything with three girls there.

”Be careful. Anyone else knows about this?” He asks with evident worry lacing his voice he steps closer helping to finally get that chape snap into place.

”Jimin knows and I think Jungkook knows too.” Once he’s done he restores the distance between the two of us. ”Also you know F/N she’s apt to be violent.” Yoongi nods.

”Fuck. I’m late.” I swear as I look at the time. With hurried steps, I pick up my boots and size up my keys ready to leave.

”See you later.” Hearing his voice calling out to me I look back smiling a little managing to whisper back a ’see you later’ of my own. I think this was the longest conversation I held with him so far, what a shame I couldn’t stay to talk more.

The wine tasting went better than I expected. That guy is filthy rich he gave us a little tour around the house before letting us each pick out 5 wines of our liking. We learned that he’s a sports major he’s a swimmer and he told us stories about his practises with the swimming team and talked awfully long about his wins and trophies. To be honest he seemed like a bit eccentric and pompous for me but Rori liked him.

We were late because our taxi on its way to the bar got into a little traffic jam. I got a text from Yoongi at the same time F/N got one from Jimin they were curious about where we are and how we are. We wrote back a short text that we’re almost there.

”So? Whose’s the guy?” Jin asked once we are seated down. F/N took her place next to Jimin and Rori beside her leaving me with the only option of sitting down next to Yoongi at the other side of the table.

Once I’m comfortably seated I look around the table I catch in the corner of my eye Namjoon and Jungkook taking shots. Yoongi grabs his alcoholic beverage before him from the table our shoulders brush against each other due to the motion. I bite the inside of my cheeks don’t want to fidget in place.

”He’s a sports major.” Rori told Jin she told him about our little tour but she conveniently left out the offer about a threesome that I politely declined.

”Oh Y/N you remember that guy who wanted to get your phone number?” Scrunching my nose as the scene flashed before my eyes, of course, I remember. That was one of my most awkward moments and believe me when I say there’s a lot of option to choose from on my list and it’s still the worst. As far as I know, that guy was a sports major too and he was very persistent.

”Yes, what about him?” I nod. I try to shoo the pictures out of head but a forming blush creeping up my neck quicker than I realise.

”Well he’s here. And he’s coming this way.” F/N tells without looking my way her eyes trained behind my form probably to report back his every move. I physically have to hold myself back from whimpering and its not the good kind.

”Shit.” I bite my lower lip don’t want to make things more obvious I don’t turn around to confirm it.

”Oh. I remember. You gave him Rori’s number, don’t you?” Jungkook, you traitor. He was with me when it happened I was flustered enough that he asked Jungkook is my boyfriend or not that I didn’t want to expand my suffering so I gave him my friend's number. She told me if someone I don’t want tries to get into my pants and bothers me I can use her number as a bait knowing her even though my pants were not on the line I still did that. Well, she did more than that after.

”Then what’s the problem?” Jin asks so invested in our conversation that I want to smack him on the neck.

”I was sexting with him and we fucked.” She shrugs. That was what I tried to say. I really don’t want to face that guy.

I stand up with so much vehemency that I almost knock down a glass from the table it’s Yoongi’s empty glass at the bottom of it there’s a thin line of whiskey left. Yoongi grabs my thighs to stabilise me. Looking over his shoulder I saw that said guy indeed walking into this direction.

”Uh, please dance with me?” I grab Yoongi’s hand surprising him for a moment or two but lets me pull him up.

”You have a habit of running away, huh?” I look back to get a grip at the situation. I led Yoongi into the dance floor even though I don’t even know how to dance. He sees the panic settling in my face so he starts guiding me with his hand flat against my lower back. There’s a lot of bodies to avoid so Yoongi is extremely close.

”I don’t like confrontation.” I subtly hide behind his broad shoulders I can see it on him how he tries to stop himself from laughing. I like the sound of his laugh.

”I’m aware.” He purrs into my ear pulling me closer by a hand wrapped around my waist the sweet scent of his cologne hits me like a tone of bricks. I’m painfully aware how his body touches mine my breast pushed against his flat ribcage I can feel him inhaling and exhaling the used oxygen.

”Y-your hand Yoongi.” His hand is dangerously low on my back I’m sure he feels the curve of my ass under his fingers. The bar is dimly lit so my blush remains subtle in a certain extent seeing me blush so many times I wouldn’t be surprised if he would recognise it before it fully blooms on my face.

”What about it?” He clearly wants me to say it but there’s no way I’m going to bluntly say that his hand touches my ass. Rather die.

”What are you doing? Are you drunk?” I defensively ask answering the question with my own questions. He openly finds my antics amusing because this time he laughs. That gummy smile makes my knees weak for him he strengthens his hold on my waist like he knows it.

”My car is here. I’m as sober as I can be.” The hand I placed on his chest when he suddenly pulled me closer itched. He’s touching me and he’s sober. Heaving a sigh he replaces them around his neck I can’t relish in the feeling as his hand on my ass beyond doubt gone since he places it back soon after even lower. The grin he shows me makes me want to give him my fist instead of my virginity.

”Then why are you touching me?” My confidence wavered significantly as he lowered his head his lips closer than ever but instead of kissing me, he blows air into my ear riling me up with the gesture.

”This makes you uncomfortable?” I wanted to say yes, but the full truth would be it’s undeniably uncomfortable and exciting it makes my blood boil under my skin and it scares me how much I want him to touch me tossing aside my insecurities just to feel him like this. At least he knows his boundaries. I don’t know what would I do if his hand suddenly moved.

”No. I’m just embarrassed.” I nervously twist a hair at the nape of his neck didn’t realise the act just when I did it.

”You ran away because you were embarrassed yesterday too?” I stop toying with his hair once the words register in my head. Is he talking about the kitchen incident? And here I thought that there’s nothing more that could make the situation more awkward.

”Y-yes.” The confidence I felt before left me I shy away from his eyes the way he sized me up that day still vivid in my head.

”Why?” A perfect arch of his eyebrows indicating that he wants his answer this time and I am about to give him.

”Because you were staring at me.” I tell him oh so matter of factly. He practically beams at the offered answer the glint in his eyes telling me that’s the answer he seeks in the first place and he has his own set of words in return.

”Wanna know what I thought about while staring at you?” His eyes pinning me to my spot I wouldn’t dare to move away even if I wanted to he seemed determined to get under my skin and maybe under my clothes too.

”No.” I challenge drunk by the boldness maybe the gin tonic I consumed earlier and the wines finally appearing be to be the liquid courage I needed. Reading between the lines Yoongi tells me despite the answer.

”I imagined how you would look like wearing my shirt. It would cover you below your knees since you are tiny. Tell me you’re wearing one of those black panties I saw before?” I don’t answer but I let him pat my knee I can feel his warm palm under the fabric of my jeans he continues with more words even bolder than the first.

”I imagined how you would look like under me on my bed wrapping those long legs around my waist.” Affected by his words I mirror his hungry expression. He’s normally not a man of so many words and hearing him talk this much makes me feel special that he’s talking to me because he feels the need to let me know what’s plaguing his mind. I entertain the idea that maybe he wasn’t sure how to convey the message since I’m so shy he didn’t have a lot of opportunity cornering me before the kitchen incident. Perhaps it was the undo he needed.

”Tell me Y/N. Do you find me attractive?” His fingers stroke the flesh of my jaw he’s getting confident as I don’t push him away.

”You are attractive.” I tell him honestly and he grins but not in a malice kind of way his grin more like a boyish grin that boys wear after hearing that their high school crush likes them back. The happy kind of grin.

”Have you thought about me too? Like I did.” The next question hits differently it’s not so innocent and I wasn’t in the illusion he is.

”Yes.” Holding onto the boldness I agree.

”Tell me.” He urges. He’s sober I remember. Avoiding his stare I let my shyness getting to the best of me he brushes a strand of hair behind my ears coaxing out the reply. It feels nice to be touched by him.

”It’s embarrassing.”

”I told you mine. You have to tell me your fantasies so I can make them come true.” He trails a finger following the line of my collarbone my outfit leaves literally everything to the imagination the only skin he can feel is on my arms.

”You’re unfair.” I whine the words out Yoongi stops his movements to see the emotions behind my eyes. He seems confused by my conflicted expression. His eyes were always expressive and I loved staring at them. Those rare moments shared, eating together at the weekends letting me hear one of his song he proudly introduces.

”How so?”

I take a deep breath cupping his cheeks. ”You look good with dyed hair but I prefer it black. You look the best when you come home from work all sweaty because the air conditioner still not gotten repaired in your workplace so you always take a shower before doing anything else.” There’s glint catching the light in his orbs watching me closely while I tell him the things I locked away in my memories. He caresses my wrist with a raised hand the other directly resting upon mine as it's his face still trapped between the heels of my palms.

”I like your voice.” I let the words flow out like a river caught up in a thunderstorm. ”I always wanted to know how it would sound like moaning my name. I like your hands too.”

”What about them?” A big smile stretches his face knowing too well he won. I don’t feel the frustration of losing I’d gladly accept this fate again and again if it will give me the same results at the end of this.

”Yoongi.” I whine.

”Did you imagined this? Or this?” His hands leaving their position fondling the flesh on my hip hiding me behind his body he walks a hand up my decolletage.

”Stop, we are in public.” I hiss.

”No one pays attention Y/N. But I’ll gladly take this to the bedroom.” The offer temps me but I remember the boys.

”We can’t. You are the only sober one and the guys need their ride home.” I reason and Yoongi groans in frustration. He forgot about them already. He looks at the booth the others are drinking and laughing.

”If I tell Namjoon to stop drinking he would be sober enough to drive them back.”

I shake my head it would be too dangerous and considering he competed with Jungkook about who can take more shots I bet he’s drunk like a donkey alongside with the younger boy. ”I’m drunk too.” I tell him when he tries to come up with more solution.

”Fine.” Yoongi hugs me close probably to hide his displeased face doesn’t want to sound so desperate maybe he’s embarrassed.

”Don’t be like that. I promise if in the morning when I sobered up you still want to do it I’ll let you.”

He perks up gently pushing me away to look into my eyes. ”Let me do what?”

”Let you take me.”

***

I feel something warm tickling my sides a sudden wave of cold air hits my stomach but the cold soon replaced with a warm and wet feel against my skin. My eyes narrowly open I try to fidget away wrapping my fingers around the comforter when I feel that wet and warm feeling on my thighs.

Hands and tongue. The fog in front of my eyes clears I don’t remember when did I fell asleep or how did I end up here. Where am I? I spot the synthesizer in the corner Yoongi’s synthesizer. Yoongi’s room.

”Yoongi, what .. ah” My voice raspy from sleep the way he rubbed his nose into my neck just to deliver a long kiss to it after halted my question before I was able to voice it out.

”Did I wake you up. My bad.” He smiled into my skin loving the way my heart beats erratically with his every touch, his hand above my breast feeling the movements of it.

”You don’t sound so sorry about it.”

”Do you have a headache?” He caresses the side of my face helping to curl the locks behind my ear that interfered with my vision. The thoughtful gesture made me smile up at his face mirroring his expression of tenderness.

”No I’m good. I didn’t drink that much.” My fingers itch to touch his face maybe it’s because of the dreamy state I’m currently in that I have the confidence in doing so. I brush my hands through his bangs his eyes closing the caress urges a smile he grabs my hands once I’m about to pull away to move it against his mouth giving a small kiss onto my palm before intertwining them with his much larger ones.

I could get used to this. The image of him looking so raw and so vulnerable his eyes puffy with sleep lazy motions of his fingertip exploring my body under the duvet. My shirt is rolled up just below my breasts the shirt’s neck hangs around my shoulder in a loose coverage it smells like Yoongi just like the covers. Looking down I realise it’s not my shirt. It’s his.

”Glad to hear that. I want you to repeat your promise to me.” Yoongi burrows his face into my neck again his hair brushing against my bare skin the hand that’s not holding mine drops under the covers finding my hip guiding me to drape my right leg over his waist facing each other sideways.

”Promise? Can you be more specific?” I boldly move my hand caressing with feather-light touches his side I can feel his bare torso and hips under my fingers he shivers and not because of the cold. He’s shivering because I touched him and he’s not wearing a shirt. The thought crosses my mind that the shirt I’m wearing is the one he did wear the whole day but not now. Every other day I would be embarrassed but I quite liked the idea of wearing his clothes in his bed.

”A tease I see.” He recovered quicker than I would like he gave a quick peck onto my shoulder where his shirt didn’t cover that much skin. He cupped my breast above the fabric of my bra the sudden feel of him squeezing me there I whined a little bit too loudly. I pulled my hand away shielding my face due to embarrassment.

”Yoongi.” I shyly call his name. He let his hand stay there but he remained motionless giving my hands each a kiss just where my eyes would be if I didn’t hide behind my limbs. His hand felt warm against me where my bra wasn’t covering his two fingers rested directly on the skin of my breast.

”Do I have your consent baby?” I gulp my shy personality says no but my body says yes for me.

”You can have anything.” I place my palm against his that lays on my body my eyes still closed but I don’t shield my face anymore. The words came out as whispers even though I wanted him to hear me say it. I wanted him to go on.

”Love. Answer me.” I open my eyes again when I feel his hand leave my boobs to cup my face with it instead.

”You can have me. You can fuck me. Did it answer your question or should I be more specific?” I wet my lips poking my tongue against the inside of my cheeks trying to calm down the rapid movement of my heart my hands shook as I grip his hair moving my mouth against his to not just say but show my consent. I want this. I want him.

”No. I think it was explicit enough, I like seeing you blush.” Hearing him say that makes me blush harder and he gifts me with a gummy smile basking in the responsive reactions. I would be more embarrassed if I wouldn’t feel the sticky substance dampening my underwear.

”Do you have something in mind? A preference? Or can I surprise you.” The way he explicitly asks about my sexual preferences makes him appear hotter a new wave of arousal hits me making me grind my thighs together forgetting that Yoongi’s leg is between them. I know he felt the wetness but doesn’t comment on it he instead pushes his knees further up parting my legs.

”You d-decide.” I moan when his knee brushes against my crotch. He hummed delighted by my answer. Placing back his hand once more squeezing my breasts before undoing the clasps behind my back. He slowly lets the material fall he strictly looks into my eyes not wandering downwards seeking out my every reaction. I gave him a little nod he takes it as the permission he needed he moves the cover so he can take a look.

”So pretty.” He sighs into my skin he turns my body to be flat against the bed the cold sheets meeting with my back goosebumps travelling up my spine. ”So soft.” He mumbles the endless of praises dragging his fingers over a nipple before licking it with his tongue a choked moan leaves my parted lips his hair gently caressing the skin. He circles the nipple with his poked out tongue kneading the other neglected one with his free hand. Mewls and sighs, in turn, filling the room trying to keep my voice quiet but it’s hard since the only thing I can concentrate on is his mouth on me and his hands those long fingers as he drags them down on my body a finger slides under the waistband of my panty he stretches the material out before letting it snap back into place. The uncomfortable feeling of it sticking to my folds gets frustrating by every passing minute.

”You smell good.” His raspy voice helps me return from my sudden astonishment I scrape his scalp with my long nails as I weave my fingers through his hair he lets out a low growl my skin covering up the noise the vibration he sends up my body by it makes me tighten my legs around his waist my underwear covered cunt pressed against his firm chest forces a not so silent whine out.

”It’s m-my lotion.” I reply absentmindedly. He hums into my collarbone not sure my answer registered truly in his brain I feel him taking a big inhale before pulling away he pushes himself up with the help of his hands planted beside my head looking with heavily lidded eyes taking in my hazed eyes and swollen lips before connecting our mouths. I almost forgot how good of a kisser Yoongi is.

The light touch against my inner thigh makes my hip jolt up in surprise Yoongi’s eager mouth swallows all the sounds and whimpers. ”Relax.” He purrs aiming for my hips soothing circles into my skin. I take a few deep breaths Yoongi waits patiently for me to calm down a little the way his eyes sizing me up like I’m some kind of goddess eases some of my nerves. Once he’s positive I’m not going to run away he lets his palm touch me the barrier that’s my underwear stays in place as he drags his fingers directly onto my heat. I feel it throb under his ministrations having confidence after a few moans I let out he gets bolder using more pressure to dip between my folds the underwear’s silky touch lets him move smoothly. ”Can I feel it? I want to make sure you’re wet enough before I do anything else.” Nodding even before the question was fully out I anticipate a laugh or something to tease me about my eagerness. I don’t think I wanted someone this bad before to touch me. But he doesn’t laugh he seems as eager as I feel. He slides a finger under the damp material but he retreats too soon. ”Please, can I take it off?” To persuade me further if his plea wasn’t enough he rubs his fingers where my clit is over my panty. The plea was enough but I’m not complaining. I manage to signal him with a breathy yes. Don’t have to tell him twice he slides the ruined material down my legs his big warm hands gripping my inner thighs preventing my legs from closing before he can take a look.

”Look at that. So pink and swollen for me.” Previously he was careful with every move waiting for approval before doing anything bold but like he’s lost all the continence in him Yoongi drags two fingers up my folds coating his fingers with my arousal letting just the tip of his fingers penetrating just to pull back. I let out the loudest moan blushing as I realise just how loud I sounded but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, not at all. He wanted to coax more of those sounds as he bent down parting the lips with his tongue letting out his own moans while tasting me and if it’s even possible at this point I feel more turned on than ever.

”Warm too. Sorry, my love, my hands are a little cold but I hope you don’t mind.” He finally slips a finger in my eyes slightly open he watches me with a grin loving the way I squirm wanting it chuckles deep and I don’t mind at all. The stretch his one digit means feels familiar reminding me when I was chasing relief on my own but his fingers are so so much better longer and thicker. I can’t wait to feel the second one.

”I want to make you cum on my tongue.” Delivering a kittenish lick sucking on my clit for the demonstration before he goes on. ”Just to bring you another orgasm with my fingers.” Yoongi curls the one finger in me rubbing it into my throbbing walls ”Lastly let you cum around my cock.” He throws his head back moaning sinfully just thinking he’s about to make everything he said come true. ”You deserve at least three orgasms but I shouldn’t be greedy your virgin cunt can’t handle three.” He eases another finger in this time the stretch is a bit more uncomfortable.

”Let’s start with two.” He says settled with the idea he places a wet kiss onto my hip before finding my abused clit again sucking and rolling it around his tongue my walls contacts around his two digits I feel the sticky substance coating my inner thighs and dripping onto the sheets the mess, the way Yoongi’s hair tickle my thighs, the way he moves his fingers inside me, the pleasure gets overwhelming something starts to build up promising a relief I never had the chance of feeling before.

”Yoongi fuck, Yoongi” His name spills from my mouth and it seems to encourage him to be faster.

”It’s fine.” He tells before sucking harshly on my clit. ”Cum for me.” The proud grin he forms still buried between my legs and the vibration of his hum makes my legs shake I let my head fall back into the pillows closing my eyes until I see literal stars.

He stops lapping my juices once I’m finished the proud smile still plastered on his face licking his lips capturing the remaining of my pleasure. He looks so hot. I never knew I’m capable of coming this hard.

”Good?” Placing a kiss onto my nose he caresses my arms I didn’t realise I was grabbing onto the sheets this tight I let Yoongi place my hands onto his shoulder blades he moves to get between my legs once more.

Instead of answering, I can’t help but impatiently point out. ”You’re still wearing clothes.” I grab his hips pulling on his sweatpants playfully.

”Wanna take it off?” He asks smirking. I roll my eyes at his cockiness not that he’s all talk when it comes to his skills but he has more ego than he can manage and I’m not going to increase it for him.

”So what? Don’t tell me you are not eager even more than me to bury your dick into my virgin pussy.” His eyes grow bigger for a split second before it regains its original state, so he can be startled too. I’m surprised by my boldness, but god, it’s worth it seeing him so fucked up by those words.

”You’re playing a dangerous game Y/N. I need my self-control right now.” Something shifted in his eyes he looks like he’s about to devour me. Yoongi shifts onto his knees to get rid of the final barriers between us. I close my eyes my shyness returns too soon but Yoongi doesn’t mind it I open my eyes again as he positions myself above me placing a firm kiss onto my lips he senses I’m anxious.

”Do you trust me?” Seeing the open vulnerability in his shiny orbs, not entirely clouded by lust makes my head swim with a lot of suppressed emotion. I feel the urge to smile lifting my head from the pillows beneath me I give him a peck.

”Of course I am.” I kinda like you. I bite into my lips before the next sentence could slip through we’ll talk about this another time. Right, the only thing I want to focus on is Yoongi. Only Yoongi. His tip brushes against my stomach, shit, I haven’t seen how big he is. His lip pressed to mine swallows the tiny moan leaving my lips as he pushes the first inch inside parting my walls in a painful stretch. Fuck. He’s big.

”Tight.” Yoongi moans, more in pleasure than I am currently in but it’s ok. He made me cum I want to see him cum too. ”Relax for me angel I won’t hurt you I promise.” Relishing in the way he caresses my side I try to relax my body he pushes another inch in slowly his tip must be fully buried by now.

”That’s right. You’re doing so well.” He praises his eyebrows knit together in concentration he’s holding himself back because of me. Touched by the gesture I move my hip to meet his advances he slips in deeper than he intended his groan significantly louder by the sudden pleasure.

”Does it hurt?” He pulls himself together to keep the eye contact he caresses the skin under my eye I nod before answering.

”A little.”

”Let’s try a few more thrusts if it still hurts after that I’ll stop and eat you out again. Shit. Maybe I should have made you cum again for the extra lubrication.” Yoongi regretfully gazes at my face.

”It’s fine. Just go slow.” I say the burning is bearable I’m getting used to the feeling slowly but not sure if I can cum again.

”My baby is so tight.” I’m definitely a sucker for those pet names. It helps me focus on his words instead of his slow thrusts. ”I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Feeling you wrapped around me a dream come true.” I experimentally squeeze around him and he lets out a loud moan his head nestled into my neck groaning and moaning between filthy words his pace got quicker but I don’t stop him even though it’s not feeling as good as him eating me out. I want to please him though and by the sounds, he seems very pleased.

”Are you alright?” He stops after hearing a louder whiny moan on my part but I don’t let him I circle my hips in place dragging out moans from him but he forces himself to reset his previous slower pace. I’m not having any of it. I want him to cum and want it soon.

”Yoongi” I whine out his name an idea foggily forming at the back of my head. ”Yoongi, I wanna ride you.”

”Are y-you sure?” He stills inside of me waiting for the confirmation and I nod inviting him into a kiss that turns slopy by time. I feel his hands grabbing at my waist to change position this way he sinks in deeper.

Holy shit it feels so much better.

”Fuck. Do you like this?” He grips my hips dragging his cock touching every sensitive part in me as my walls swallow his shaft he pulls me up just to let me sink down with a needy moan I’m starting to feel the appeal.

”Yes. I-ah-think.” I can almost picture the way my eyes roll back behind my skull right now. What was I saying? ”Go faster.” I choke out and Yoongi with a following set of groans obligates I’m too far gone to pay attention to how Yoongi watches with hungry eyes that I ruin the bedsheets.

”I like that you are so messy.” He places a stray hair behind my ears our chests pressed together so he can thrust up faster and harder. Yoongi holds me in place taking control the way his eyes shuts involuntarily and his member twitching inside of me signals that he’s close.

He’s breathtakingly beautiful as he reaches his high he’s so lost in the pleasure my walls provide so tight around him that he doesn’t have the mind to kiss me back so I just press them together for a minute longer. My legs ache because of the exercise but I let him use me to ride out his high the pretty sounds and satisfied look he gives me once seated firmly inside me with our mixed cum spilling out he looks down where our body connects rubbing the skin of my hip lovingly while watching me ruin his sheets. He likes that I’m messy.

”I hope you like me back because I don’t think I could fuck anyone else from now on.” I end up in a pit of laughter leaning my head on his shoulder he feels my body shake with the motion Yoongi whines in overstimulation when I accidentally squeeze his spent member. I peck the skin where my head previously rested before searching for Yoongi’s eyes.

”I do like you back.” I admit it shyly even though there’s nothing to be shy about his dick is still inside for fuck’s sake.

”Glad to hear that.” His grin returns faster than the speed of light. ”I thought I fucked your brains out when you suddenly started laughing. I was concerned for a minute.” I try to hit his shoulder but he’s faster grabbing my hand by the wrist and gives the flesh an attentive kiss the gesture is sweet and melts my heart.

”How are you feeling?” It’s cute how he seeks my reassurance. He lets me move away careful when pulling out so I can finally take the previous position lying down.

”Hm, sore but good. I just need .. some time. I don’t think I can stand up just yet.” I offer my honest reply burying my nose into the duvet that got tossed aside. He leaves the room making me confused but once he’s back with a towel in hand I pierce two and two together. It’s his towel. The thought is enough to make me blush furiously.

”Spread your legs for me.” I take the request as an order shyly spreading my legs so he can clean me up. ”There. All cleaned up.” The bed squeaks under the weight of his one knee pushing me further into the sheets. Yoongi bows down to kiss me his tongue teases my lips as we kiss asking for permission that I eagerly permit.

#btsghostie #yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts university au #bts roommates au

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downondilaudid · 4 years

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Reality Check

Spencer gets tired of readers reckless behavior, and finally gives her a little reality check.

Requested: Yes

Prompts: My life motto is fuck bitches, get money blow cash.(This is a inspired by a line from the song ODD by Hey Voilet) & That’s not even factual

Word Count: 4.6K

Warnings: SMUT, LIKE PRETTY ROUGH SHIT

“Talk is cheap, but actions are priceless.”

― Green Monk

You wouldn’t necessarily consider yourself reckless, per se, just a little wild. It was a surprising turn of events when you and Spencer ended up together, his teammates had thought you would be nothing more than a fling, someone to keep his bed warm while he was gone. Yet, you had been together for a year and a half now and had been living together for five months.

Despite the two of you being opposites, you worked together beautifully, you easily complemented each other. Your wild nature allowed Spencer to relax, and enjoy the simplicities of life. While his sophisticated way of thinking forced you to use your head a little more, and consider the consequences of your actions. You loved Spencer, and he loved you, it was just hard sometimes, seeing the world through different eyes.

“C’mon Spence, please?” You pleaded, your hand latching into his arm to try and get his attention.

“I really need to work on this, Y/N” he mumbled absentmindedly, pulling his arm from your grasp, and writing something on a notepad.

“Spencer! You’ve been working on this all night, please take a break.” You shifted so you were standing behind him, wrapping your arms around him, and laying your head lightly against his shoulder.

He let out a mix between a sigh and a groan, and you could feel the vibration of it through his back. “I need to finish this, Y/N, watching you get drunk, and then having to drag you home, doesn’t sound like a break.”

You scoffed, “suit yourself, babes.” You pushed off of him, leaving the room to go get ready.

The music pounded in your ears, and the bass rattled your drink against the table. You were already quite tipsy, but for the first time, you weren’t a happy drunk. You guess you were what people call, a sad drunk.

You stirred your straw around your drink absentmindedly. “Y/N! Come dance with me! Please?” One of your friends questioned.

Right as you opened your mouth to deny her, the unforgettable intro to Gas Pedal by Sage the Gemini sounded through the club. It was like a switch had been flipped inside you, suddenly you were on your feet. Grabbing her hand, you dragged her to the dance floor.

She laughed at your change in mood, “yes!”

You laughed along, the both of you staring at each other and in sync screaming, “h-h-h-h-holy shit!”

This was good, it was good for you to forget, to throw away all the problems of life, and get drunk off your ass.

Which is how you, and your two girlfriends you had gone out with, ended up stumbling down the street, the club long forgotten.

The three of you laughed and giggled, talking about anything and everything that popped into your drunken minds.

“Ooooh! We should prank call someone.” Your friend shouted rather loudly.

You laughed at her, “totally, we could prank Spencer, he was a dick to me earlier. He didn’t even want to come out with us!” You exclaimed, your hands gesturing wildly, and your speech slightly slurred.

The girls gasped, both talking over each other, screaming about how boring and annoying he was.

“I know!” You cried, pulling out your phone to call Spencer.

You hit the call button, putting the phone on speaker, and hushing the giggling girls.

“Y/N?” A voice asked through the phone.

“How did you know it was me?” You asked, a look of bewilderment crossing your face.

Your friends laughed harder, one of them reaching out to smack you on the arm, “you forgot to block your caller ID, idiot!”

“Oops” you giggled.

“Y/N, where the hell are you? It’s one in the morning.” Spencer questioned angrily.

Another laugh escaped your mouth, at this point, everything just seemed funny to you. You looked around the dark street, nothing looked familiar.

“Do you guys know where we are?” You questioned.

A scoff came from the phone, “are you fucking serious?”

The girls giggled one of them letting out a childish “oooh! Someone's in trouble!” The two of them turned leaning on each other as they walked away, letting you have your privacy.

“We were at a club, I’m just not sure where we are now.” You giggled.

“Which club?” Spencer questioned, his tone authoritative, like a disappointed parent.

You combed through your brain for the answer, “uh…”

Spencer let out a deep sigh, and you could imagine him running his hands angrily through his hair. “You can’t keep doing this, Y/N.” You could hear the sound of a car door opening, and you assumed he was coming to find you.

“Actually, I can do whatever I want, it’s my life. And, my life motto is fuck bitches, get money, blow cash.” Anger bubbled in your stomach, who did he think he was telling you what to do?

“Y/N look around you, what do you see?” Spencer asked, ignoring your comment.

“Hmm…” you trailed off, giggling before you finished your sentence, “my two bitches over there!” You hollered, pointing towards your friends, who laughed at your antics. “The fat stacks in my purse, and the club we just passed where I paid way too much for drinks!”

“Y/N, I swear to God…” Spencer muttered.

“C’mon Spence, let me live a little! What are the odds of something bad happening to me? Like, none. I’m with my friends, having fun. Something you seem to never do.” You snapped.

Spencer let out an angry huff, “first of all, that’s not even factual, second, you need to tell me where you are. Or, I’m going to call Garcia, and have her track your phone.”

Well, damn. Your eyes squinted, trying to read the blue street sign. “Uh… Briar, Brian Ln.” You laughed, “what the hell does Ln. mean?”

“Dear God, lane, Y/N, it means lane,” Spencer grunted. You could tell he was tired of your shit.

Luckily for him, the cool night air nipping at your exposed skin began to sober you up. You heard the phone hang up, right as a familiar car pulled up next to you.

You watched as a very pissed off Spencer leaned over from the driver's seat, pushing open the passenger side door. You looked to your friends, who were jokingly saluting you like it was the last time they would see you. “Good luck! We’re catching an Uber! Call us if you live!”

You let out one last laugh before clambering messily into the car, roughly shutting the door, and buckling your seatbelt. Spencer remained quiet, his large hands gripping the steering wheel, and his knuckles turning white. You would be lying if you said the sight wasn’t hot, Spencer was always hot, but, angry Spencer was hot.

The rest of the ride was silent, despite your efforts to try and “jam to some music” Spencer smacked your hand away from the radio every time! It was like he wanted you to sit here in the horrible silence.

As soon as the apartment door closed, the exhaustion washed over you, your limbs felt ten times heavier, and all you wanted to do was sleep. You immediately began your walk to the bathroom to lazily brush your teeth and wash the makeup from your face.

“Oh, so we’re not going to talk about it?” Spencer said, his voice rising slightly.

“Spencer, be quiet, it’s two in the morning.” You groaned out quietly, wiping the last of the makeup from your eyes so you didn’t look like a rabid raccoon. You threw the makeup wipe into the trash, moving past Spencer and into your bedroom.

An angry scoff left his mouth, “seriously?” He followed you out, his eyes glaring holes in the back of your head.

You rolled your eyes, stripping from your dress and opening Spencer’s closet to grab one of his old shirts. “Yes, what do you want me to say? Sorry for having fun?” You slipped the soft fabric over your head, turning around to crawl into bed.

“Please, Spence, we’ll talk about it tomorrow, I’m drunk and tired.” You grumbled, your frazzled mind struggling to pull back the comforter correctly.

Spencer sighed, your actions proving your words, he leaned over, roughly yanking down the comforter for you, “fine.”

You closed your eyes, listening to the sounds of Spencer getting ready for bed. He slipped under the covers, turning his back to you. The only reason he did so was because he knew you couldn’t fall asleep unless you were facing him. Something in you wanted his face to be the last thing you saw at night and the first thing you saw in the morning. Despite his petty actions, the alcohol in your system put you to sleep anyways.

…

You groaned, rolling over onto your side, tugging the warm comforter with you. “Seriously?” Spencer questioned, yanking the comforter back, causing you to roll back onto your other side.

“I need an Advil.” You muttered, squinting slightly to try and block out the sunlight streaming in through the window.

“Why the hell did you get so drunk, Y/N?” He sat up slightly, the comforter sliding down his bare chest.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “you think I remember? I’m just as clueless as you.” You pushed the comforter off your body, deciding to leave the warmth of the bed for a bathroom break and some Advil.

Spencer followed suit, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, “Y/N you got lost, you were wandering the streets alone and drunk!”

“I’m sorry, I guess.” You mumbled, your speech slightly distorted as you began brushing your teeth, fighting off the nauseous feeling in your stomach.

“You guess? Y/N, you have no idea how worried I was!” Spencer cried, his hands gesturing wildly as he took a step closer to you.

You set your toothbrush back in its stand, “mhm, the same worry I feel when you overwork yourself 24/7.” You remarked, turning to face him with your arms crossed over your chest.

“That’s different, Y/N! You’re being idiotic, reckless, and immature. I was doing my job.” He spat, spinning on his heel and storming out of the bathroom.

You sighed angrily, continuing to get ready. You knew he was right, you were being immature. Maybe you had let your friends sway you too much, you just wanted to forget Spencer for a night. You hated seeing him so stressed, it broke your heart, and now you were the cause of that stress.

Walking out of the bathroom and into the living room you were met with the sight of Spencer once again hunched over his desk, pencil in hand.

‘Wow, didn’t expect that one.” You muttered sarcastically, walking into the open kitchen, searching the cabinets for Advil.

“Just like I should’ve known you would go out and get wasted with your friends. Seriously, Y/N, what’s it going to take for you to learn you have to grow up?” Spencer slammed his pencil down angrily.

“Why are we even together if I’m too immature for you, huh?” You growled, watching as Spencer angrily stood from his chair, stalking over to you.

Spencer’s hands found your hips, roughly shoving you against the counter, his body pressed against yours.

You felt his hand trail up your back, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Because, unlike most guys,” his hand laced into your hair, giving it a sharp tug so you were forced to look up at him, “I know how to handle brats like you.” He finished.

A cheeky smile grew on your face, this wasn’t how you imagined this conversation going, but you weren’t complaining.

Spencer chuckled, “oh you think you’re so cute, don’t you?”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, his condescending words casting a new atmosphere in the room.

“You’re so quiet now, baby, you weren’t so quiet a minute ago.” His voice was low and as smooth as honey.

A giggle left your mouth, “well, if I talk, will you shut me up?”

Spencer grinned, his grip on your hair loosening, “I think I have a few ideas.”

“I’d love to see them” your hands started a path up his chest, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck.

“I bet you would.” He said, and in an instant, he was gone, he had stepped back and was already walking back to the bedroom.

“Spencer!” You cried, stomping after him like a child who had just been put in timeout.

“Calm down, I’m just getting something.” He said, digging through his work satchel.

You rolled your eyes, your bratty nature getting the best of you, “well you better hurry, or I’ll just take care of myself.”

Your statement sent Spencer into a fit of laughs, and your face scrunched in confusion. “Y-you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” He said between laughs.

“And you’re saying I’m the immature one?” At that moment, all you wanted was for him to fuck the shit out of you, but, apparently, that was not on his agenda.

He walked over to you, much like a predator would to its prey, slow and deliberately. “Just shut up and fu-shit!” You cried out in the middle of your sentence, as he roughly grabbed your arm, spinning you around and pinning you to the wall.

“You’re telling me to shut up? All you’re doing is back talking, and I’m sick of it.” He growled out.

You squirmed in his grip, “then maybe you should stop being an asshole!” His hand grabbed your other arm, yanking it behind your back, “ow, Spencer! Jesus.” Then the faint clinking of metal filled your ears, and chills covered your arms as the cool metal clamped around your wrists.

“Did you just fucking cuff me, Spencer?” You screamed, trying to turn to face him. Surprisingly, he allowed you to, in fact, his hands moved to your hips, helping you.

But the second you faced him, his hand was wrapped around your neck, tight enough to restrict your speech. “I did, in case you can’t tell, you’ve been an absolute brat the past few days. And if you want to go out and act like a whore, I’ll treat you like one.” A primal look washed over his eyes, he wanted to break you, to humiliate you into submission.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. Spencer chuckled, “oh, you really are a whore. You like it when I choke you, huh?”

His hand pushed back on your neck, shoving you back into the wall, watching as you collapsed into a heap on the floor. You gasped for air, squirming as the handcuffs dug uncomfortably into your back.

Spencer’s hands went to his belt, unbuckling it quickly, “get on your knees, sweetheart.” His voice was soft and gentle, probably because he just choked you and threw you against a wall.

You complied, shifting onto your knees with minimal struggle, despite the restraint of your arms. “Good girl.” Spencer praised, pushing his pants and boxers down thighs, his hard cock springing free.

Your eyes widened, you were shocked at how hard this had made him, sure, you had always had this Dom/Sub dynamic, but you had never been this rough before.

His hand wrapped around his length, giving it a few good pumps. His other hand wrapped your hair in a makeshift ponytail, using it to drag your head towards his cock. “Open, baby.”

Your jaw fell open, his cock filling your mouth, and your lips puckered around him, sucking lightly at the tip. “Oh no, baby, I’m going to fuck your mouth, and you’re going to sit there and let me.”

He pushed down harder against the back of your head, driving his cock further past your lips. You squirmed, gagging slightly as he hit the back of your throat, you tried to pull back for some air, but his hand just pushed your head down further. “That's it, such a good whore” he groaned out.

You took shallow breaths in through your nose, trying your best to relax your throat to take him in further. Tears welled in your eyes, and you tried to pull back once more. Spencer let out a mix of a groan and a chuckle, “no, no, you wanted to act like a whore, you’re going to take it like a whore.”

He pulled back, groaning as your tongue ran over the vein on the underside of his cock, “God, yes, there you go.” He pushed back in, this time pulling back faster, setting a rough pace. You gagged again, more tears falling down your face, mixing with the saliva escaping your mouth.

“Shit, that feels good.” Your eyes flickered up to Spencer's face, just in time to watch him lean his head back with a groan. The sight alone caused you to moan around his cock. “Oh, God” he moaned, his hand pushing your head down one last time, as he stilled, his cock twitching lightly in your mouth, spilling his hot cum.

The sight of him coming undone before you had you moaning around his shaft, milking his orgasm. “Fuck” he breathed out, his chest heaving. You swallowed around him, trying to control your gag reflex as he pulled your head off of his cock.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he said, his voice once again soft and soothing, his hands wrapped around your shoulders, helping you to your feet.

“Please, Spencer, please” you begged.

Then the soft tone in his voice was gone, replaced with a low condescending tone, “please, what? You want me to make breakfast? Or maybe you want me to go back to working?”

“No, no, no, no” you begged, taking a shaky step towards him, “please, just fuck me.” Your voice came out harsher than expected, albeit still horse from the abuse on your throat.

Spencer’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, a short scoff leaving his mouth, “wow, and here I was thinking you had learned your lesson.”

“No!” You cried, before correcting yourself, “no, I mean no, please fuck me, I’m sorry.” You could feel your arousal soaking through your panties.

“Hmm… much better. Get on the bed.” He stated, turning towards the bed, he clambered on, laying down in the middle, his cock once again hard, and standing at attention.

“B-but, I can’t, not without my arms.” You whined you could only imagine how much of a mess you looked like, drool and tears all over your face, along with your disheveled hair.

You watched as Spencer’s hand wrapped around his cock, stroking leisurely, “that’s a shame, I guess you won’t get to ride me.” He sent you a smirk, watching as you struggled to walk to the bed, the bastard was enjoying this so much. He was addicted to the sight of you, no longer reckless, but more wrecked. Completely at his will.

You fell face forward onto the bed, squirming to try and climb onto it. “How cute.” Spencer voiced, sitting up slightly, his hands wrapped around your biceps, and in one swift tug, he had pulled you onto the bed. “There you go.”

His hands helped you onto your knees, helping you to straddle him. He pulled your panties to the side with one hand, the other spreading your wetness around your folds. He hummed in approval, “almost seems like you’re enjoying this” he teased.

You whined at the friction, your hips grinding down against his hand. He pulled his hand back, reaching down to grab his cock. He lined it up with your entrance, slipping the head in. You both groaned at the feeling, your head falling back in pure bliss. His hands moved to your hips, yanking you down fully onto his length.

“Oh, God, fuck yes.” You moaned, your head leaning forward this time, your hair falling in your face.

Spencer’s hands left your hips, folding behind his head, “if you want to cum so bad, you can do it yourself.”

You swear your jaw fell to the floor, and the tears that once filled your eyes came flooding back. “No, please, Spence, please fuck me, please.” Despite your words, your hips began to rock into his, lifting slightly only to crash back down on his cock.

He groaned lightly, his eyes closing in pleasure, “you were acting like a whore, you’ll cum like a whore.”

“Ugh, shit.” You moaned out, your hips working faster.

“Yes, baby, there you go. Make yourself cum on my cock.” Spencer said through gritted teeth.

Your thighs began to burn, and you knew you couldn’t carry on much longer. You quickened your pace, desperately chasing your orgasm.

“Fuck, such a good whore, my little whore.” Spencer praised, his voice strained with lust.

The burning became too much, and exhaustion hit your body like a train. You collapsed forward, burying your face in Spencer’s neck. “Please, fuck me, please, Spence. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I promise.” You sobbed, your fresh tears falling onto his shoulder.

“Alright, baby, it’s okay.” He unfolded his hands from behind his head, running them up and down your back soothingly. His hands ran down to your hips, lifting you off of him. “C’mon baby, we’re not done yet, I know you can take it.” He cooed softly.

You pulled your head back, biting down harshly on your lip, you nodded your head, not trusting your voice. “You’re such a pretty girl, and all for me,” Spencer said, his hand coming up to trail over your face affectionately, and you subconsciously leaned into his touch.

“Okay, up.” He said, landing a soft tap to your backside. You giggled lightly. He helped you off of him, and before you could relish in how gentle he was, it was gone. He shoved your face forward into the bed, and you let out a sharp yelp.

The low gravelly tone was back in his voice as he spoke, “You’re such a pathetic little mess for me.” He had moved behind you, his hard cock grinding against your clothed ass.

You turned your face to the side so you could breathe, muttering out a, “please, Spencer, I won’t do it again, I promise.”

His finger hooked in your panties, pulling them to the side, and with one swift motion, he had slammed his cock into you. You screeched, eyes crossing, and mouth falling open. “Fuck, yes! Fuck, me.”

Spencer’s pace was relentless, pounding into you, skin slapping against skin obscenely. He practically growled from behind you, and his hand reached up, latching onto the handcuffs. He pulled you back onto him with each thrust.

You yelped, your wrists ached, and they would definitely be bruised, but the pleasure was too good to tell him to stop. Plus, you doubted he would listen. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer.” You muttered, the tension building in your stomach.

“C-can I cum, please? Please, please?” You begged, drool sliding from the corner of your mouth.

“Cum, cum, whore,” Spencer demanded.

You let out a loud cry, panting as your orgasm coursed through you. Your thighs clamped together, and you cunt clenched around Spencer’s cock. Your back arched further, pressing your breasts into the mattress.

Spencer continued his pace, crashing into you with everything he had. “F-fuck, shit, Y/N, so good.” He stuttered.

At this point you were an incoherent mess, your mind was clouded, all you could focus on was the feeling of Spencer’s cock dragging against your walls.

“Spence, please, I won’t do it again, I promise.” You begged, you couldn’t tell if you were begging him to stop or continue.

He chuckled through a groan, “your right, you won’t do it again,” one of his hands reached around, placing itself on your stomach. He could feel the bulge his cock created every time he thrust into you, “you won’t do it again, because I’m going to cum in you.”

The one-sentence had you spasming around his cock again, moans, and whimpers leaving your mouth. “You won’t be able to go out and drink with your stupid friends if you’re nine months pregnant, bitch.” He gritted out, finally stilling inside you, letting his cum fill you up.

The feeling alone sent you into one last orgasm, your body trembling, and a constant flow of tears cascading down your face.

You knew this wasn’t healthy, you couldn’t make up like this. He was so right, you were being childish and immature. Orgasming inside you was almost his way of telling you you’re not a child, you’re a woman, and you need to act like one. It was on its own, a reality check.

Spencer gave you a few more gentle thrusts, before pulling out, moving quickly off the bed.

You didn’t dare try and move, your body ached, and your wrists had been rubbed raw. Your headache from earlier was back, this time twice as strong, and you groaned at the pain.

“Shh… baby, don’t move.” Spencer was at your side in an instant. You vaguely registered the clinking of metal and the freeing of your wrists.

You whimpered as he slathered lotion on your sore wrists, massaging them gently. When he was done you giggled deliriously to yourself, it was moments like these you cherished. Such moments of utter vulnerability and trust that would only be shared between the two of you.

He left once again, and you slowly rolled onto your back, letting your eyes close momentarily.

Spencer came back shortly, walking back over to the bed. He placed a kiss on your forehead, watching as your eyes fluttered open, “hi” you mumbled.

Spencer laughed, “hi” he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. “C’mon” he mumbled.

One of his arms hooked under your knees, the other around your back, you got the idea, quickly wrapping your weak arms around his neck. He lifted you up, carrying you bridal style into the bathroom. Upon entering you had noticed he already drew a bath, and a smile crept onto your face.

“Here, sweetheart.” He set you down on the toilet, helping you out of your shirt, and pulling off your ruined underwear. He helped you up, holding onto you as you stepped into the water.

You got yourself situated, watching as he stripped from his clothes to join you. You scooted forward, allowing space for him to slip in the bath behind you.

He smiled at your actions, climbing in carefully, he settled behind you, his arms wrapping around you comfortingly. You sighed peacefully, nuzzling into his chest. “I’m sorry if I was too rough with you” he muttered into your hair.

You giggled lightly, “no, I deserved it.” You sank deeper into the water, allowing the warmth to soothe your muscles and the pounding in your head.

“No, Y/N, you were just trying to help me relax,” Spencer said sympathetically.

“Mhm, and I ended up doing the exact opposite, I’m sorry, Spence. I just wanted to forget about you, I can’t stand to see you so stressed.” You turned slightly so you could look at him.

“How about this, you don’t drink so heavily next time, and I’ll take more breaks from work?” Spencer debated, one of his eyebrows raised in question.

You let out a giggle at his expression, leaning back to press a kiss to his perfect lips, “sounds like a deal to me. Plus, who knows when I’ll be able to drink again?” You teased, alluding to the fact that he had come inside you.

Spencer laughed, his arms wrapping loosely around your stomach, “there’s no one I’d rather have carry my child than you.” He ended his statement with a lasting kiss to your lips, pulling back, only to pepper more kisses on your face.

#criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminalminds #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencerreid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler #i need holy water #please take me to church

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sundogsandrainbows · 3 years

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A/N: Finished the next chapter at last. I just love these two dorks so much, i s2g. Long one and right into the feels. Hope you enjoy. And oh @wordsfromreuben i tag you since you said you were interested ;)

Summary: Shepard hasn't left her cabin for a whole day, holing up while writing reports. So EDi urges Major Alenko to check up on her. He is only all too happy to oblige to this request, as it gives him not only reason to see her, but also to figure out why she isn't finding any sleep. ME3, set about two weeks after “Reignite.” Chapter 2/3. Rating change to E, but it is all smut with feels, as i am incapable to write anything else.

Excerpt:

“Darling don't be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more…”

Loud music blasted toward him as the door opened, with Shepard enthusiastically singing along to a probably more than hundred years’ old song. Or classics, as she would call them. She had always been a bit of an odd one regarding her music taste, if endearing. Then again, this was the woman who also quoted poems from poets even way longer dead and buried, so no surprise here. Thankfully she was born in the current century, but honestly? She would have fitted in the old times portrayed in the historical vids just fine.

The chorus repeated and crested, as did her voice. “And all along I believed I would find you. Time has brought your heart to me...” She’d always retained her love for singing and music, and was good at it. Her three years' career as an adolescent, eloped piano bar singer with fake ID got buried under an Alliance poster girl campaign after the Elysium Blitz, and as such was not common knowledge, though. In fact, she kept it close to heart too and only indulged in it in private moments such as these.

He had yet to step out of the elevator actually... which was hard to do when such an all-encompassing warmth spread from the base of his skull through his stomach and down all of his limbs. It tingled like the steady hum of his biotics as inherent to himself as his heartbeat was. As it was to love her. It was simply part of who he was. Through all these years, in fact, but now free of pain and regrets, at last.

After indulging in the sensation and her voice a moment longer, Kaidan approached the room. God, these quarters were gigantic, but she was his priority within it. Nora was sitting at her desk in the upper right corner and yep, working on her reports as predicted. Hopefully she wouldn’t type the song’s lyrics in there or Hackett would be very confused about it. Would definitely spice them up, though.

He suppressed the impulse to surprise her in hugging her from behind, because this was a one way ticket for a sucker punch. The ingrained reflex of a soldier to defend themselves was not to be underestimated and provoking them with Shepard was bordering on suicide. Besides, his hands were full, anyway. “Hey… you.”

She whirled around with a start, though promptly relaxed when seeing him. “Kaidan?”

“Yeah… and, well, pancakes. So a break, Shepard?” Wow, that was fucking smooth, Alenko. Good thing his hands were too occupied to slap one of them at his forehead. By now, the prior song had faded and a new, very peculiar one blared from its speaker.

“... 'm a bitch, I'm a boss. I'm a bitch and a boss, I'ma shine like gloss…”

“Shit forgot about this song coming up.” Nora rushed to punch a few buttons on her omni-tool, turning off the music, then shot him a warning glance. “Not a word, Alenko.”

“What?” He grinned at her. “About your old as balls music taste? Never. It is cute, in fact.”

“And you are lucky you are the only one who can get away with calling me cute without getting shot.”

His grin widened. “I knoooow.”

“Because I love you and you have a nice ass.”

“I knoooow.”

Ignoring his by now shit-eating grin, she arched an eyebrow at the pancakes. “Is this bribery?”

“Dunno. Is it working?”

She snorted. “I hadn’t expected you, is all.” Her eyes flicked back down to the plate. “Why are the pancakes biotically shielded, by the way?” Ah, shit, it had been such a minor effort to uphold the barrier, he totally forgot about it due to everything else here. The cabin was like a damn wonderland, fish tanks and all. With no fish… huh.

Kaidan let it fizzle out. “Believe me, better this way. Safer.”

“Uh huh.” Nora stretched herself, as languid as a cat. The slow movement did very nice things with the muscles of her arms and shoulders and, not to forget, her chest. She caught his wandering gaze and chuckled. “Like what you see, Alenko?”

Oh, busted and guilty in equal parts. “Always.”

“Hmm, good.” She stood up and stretched herself anew, this time to peck his lips. “You are not so bad yourself. Such a terrible distraction, though, because I have reports to finish.”[...]

CONTINUE READING || READ FROM THE BEGINNING

#commander shepard #kaidan alenko #shenko #mass effect #fshenko #nora shepard #meri writes things #finally done #yay #like and reblog #maybe #idk #otp: dorks in space

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rae-is-typing · 4 years

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‘Cause You Had a Bad day...

Notes: This little piece was inspired by the dumpster fire of a day I had a week ago. It’s self-indulgent as f u c k, as most of my fics are. Enjoy :)

Description: You’re having a terrible day. Your friends at the Avengers tower help you out a little bit.

Characters: reader, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, a rude receptionist named Lisa, unnamed security guard, Peter Parker is mentioned

Warnings: swearing, fractured limbs, squabbling between friends, x-rays

Disclaimers: Civil war probably didn't happen because everyone likes each other and gets along. Kind of.

Word count: 2.4k

Rain pounds on the cement, thunder rolls in the distance and it’s as if a dark cloud is looming over New York. You keep your head down with your hood up. The one day you forgot your umbrella is the one day that it rains like a motherfucker. Your entire body shivers and shakes, and the gusts of wind is only making it worse. You desperately wanted to call for help or a ride, but your phone has been dead all day because you forgot to charge last night. And to top off the shit sundae, you got locked out of your apartment and your parents are gone for the weekend. So you have to walk all the way to the tower from school with no phone, no wallet and no umbrella.

Nothing is going your way at all. You just want to get to the tower, take a nice hot shower, and crawl in a hole and die.

It’s only when the tower is in sight that you can relax and perk up a little and the pep comes back to your step. But without any warning, you fall forward. A figure runs past you at full speed with a purse in his hand. The contents of your bag spills out in front of you. You put out your hands and try to catch yourself, only to land hard on your wrist.

A cry falls from your lips as pain shoots up your arm. Tears immediately come to your eyes, not only from pain, but from your own righteous indignation.

“Fuck,” You cry weakly, pushing yourself up with your good hand. You had superhealing like Peter, but it’s not instantaneous and you’re definitely feeling this one.

You manage to gather your stuff with one hand and shove it back in your bag unceremoniously. You stumble to your feet, cradling your wrist to your chest. Walking the rest of the length to the tower, you desperately trying not to cry.

Someone was kind enough to hold the door for you when you finished walking the steps. After a quiet ‘thank you’, you stepped into the larger lobby.

“Excuse me, miss. I need some ID.” The snotty voice of the receptionist rang throughout the wide area.

“I’m here almost everyday, Lisa. Can you let it go one time?” You snap, pausing before the elevator.

“No, unfortunately not. It’s S.I. policy that we ID every visitor that enters the lobby.” Her voice bursts with fake sympathy.

“That is bullshit and you know it,” You voice hardens.

“I’m sorry ma’am. Please let me see your ID.”

You take a deep breath, trying not to go off on the bitchy receptionist. “Lisa, there are a ton of other people in here and neither you nor your co-workers have ID’d one of them. Now if you’ll excuse me,” You huff and walk towards the elevator, ready to press the button when someone puts a hand on your shoulder. You look behind you to see a security guard dressed in all black with a hard expression dressing his face.

“Can I help you?” You snap.

“I need you to come with me.” His voice is rough and low. His shoulders are squared, with arm gripping you, the other is placed on the weapon at his side.

“No.” More anger bubbles in your chest and your hands begin to shake. Your abilities begin to make themselves known through the surge of power you feel in your veins. Heat comes to your hands and your skin begins to warm up considerably. He grabs you by your upper arm, keeping a tight grip on it as he begins to drag you back to the entrance.

“What the fuck, let me go!”

Anxiety replaces your frustration. Knowing that using your abilities for anything other than pure self defense would definitely land you a weekend in jail and a ban from most career choices, you’re desperate to keep your powers at bay. You struggle in his grip, his hands squeezing your upper arm likely to the point of bruising. He had you at the entrance when the elevator opens. You don’t see it, but Tony, Bruce, Steve and Sam walked out into the lobby.

“What the hell is going on here?” Tony’s voice reverberates throughout the lobby with vigor. The bustling lobby goes silent; everything seems to stop. Your head snaps back to see Tony and Steve march up to the security guard. Steve pushes him off of you, and Tony begins to interrogate him.

“Why were your hands on my kid?”

“I-w was-”

“I don’t want to hear it. Get out of here and don’t come back.”

The security guard’s face changes form hard to confused and back to hard as he exits the building with slightly slumped shoulders.

“Mr. Stark, sir,” Lisa rushes out from behind her desk and in front of Tony. He glares down at her. “He was doing what I told him to, you don’t need to terminate him.”

“Why was my kid being dragged out against her will? And why is she holding her wrist like that?”

“She didn’t give me an ID. It’s industry policy that we ID each visitor-”

“She’s been coming here almost everyday for over a year. She is not a visitor.”

“All I did was-”

“Save it. Go home and don’t come in tomorrow.”

“But, Mr. Stark-”

Tony doesn’t listen. Instead, he turns to where Bruce is gently holding your wrist in his hands, examining the sprain. You skin has cooled down, but you’re still shaking and breathing hard. Steve and Sam stand near you. Sam’s arms are crossed over his chest, his eyes ablaze with anger. Steve had draped his coat over your shaking body, warming you up without the help of your abilities. The anger had left your body when Tony and the others began handling the situation. It was replaced with defeat and exhaustion.

“Jesus kid, you’re soaked. Did you walk all the way here or something?” Tony’s voice went from brutal to concerned in a heartbeat. He ushers everyone to the elevator to avoid the prying eyes of those in the lobby.

“Yeah,” You say softly, wincing when Bruce pressed two fingers to your wrist.

“Why didn’t you call one of us?” Steve asks.

“My phone died.”

“Where’s your umbrella, honey?”

“In my apartment.”

“Why didn’t you get it before coming here?”

“I got locked out.”

“What happened to your wrist?”

“Someone ran into me and I fell on it.”

“You couldn’t catch a break today, could you?”

You shake your head, sniffling.

“You need to get changed before you catch a cold,” Steve says.

“That’s not how it works,” Tony chimes, glancing at Steve. “The common cold is a virus, the weather has almost nothing to do with it.”

“Really? She’s in pain and soaking wet and you’re chastising me for not wanting her to get sick?”

“I just thought you should know how viruses work. Your information is a little outdated. What’s it been? Seventy-three years?”

“You know what, Stark? You can-”

“Stop fighting.” Bruce says, a hint of a growl coming through his normal voice. The two men stop squabbling for a moment to turn their attention back to you.

“Super-healing not working yet?”

“I think so, it just really hurts,” Your voice cracks as you hold back tears. You aren’t one to cry over most things, but the stress coupled with your feelings of defeat and indignation and finally getting a break become too much for you.

“Oh kid, you don’t need to cry.” Tony speaks, voice turning slight with discomfort at the sight of a couple tears trailing your cheeks. “Seriously, you don’t.”

“Sorry,” You choke out, trying to wipe your eyes with your good hand.

“Don’t apologize, Y/N. A release of emotion is healthy. Stark’s a robot, so he doesn’t understand that.” Steve says, wrapping an arm around you, and letting you rest your head on his shoulder. He throws a pointed look at Tony. “Cry if you need to.”

You nod as the elevator begins to rise. Steve keeps an arm wrapped around you, and you keep your head on his shoulder. You’re crying, but not outright sobbing and occasionally wiping your eyes. The sharp pain in your wrist has dulled to a simple throb, and your hair is slowly drying. The elevator is silent until Bruce speaks up.

“I’ll take a closer look with the live x-ray in the med bay. Right now it looks like a simple fracture that your body should be able to handle within the next couple hours,”

You only nod, eyes fixed on the elevator door. It opens to the med bay. It’s clean, medical instruments on carts and scales in other places. It takes up an entire floor for post-mission operations and other check ups. There are a few doctors on call for emergencies, however you and the other Avengers were most comfortable with Bruce or occasionally Dr. Strange checking in on you if you can help it.

“Come over here,” Bruce says, leading you to a large table with a few slots built into it and a monitor on top of it. “I need you to take off the jacket and roll up your sleeve.”

You follow the instructions, and take off your bag and set it on the floor. Then you take off Steve’s jacket, hand it back to him, take of your soaking wet hoodie which Steve also takes and roll up the sleeve to your equally soaked shirt.

“Put your arm through here,” Bruce says, gesturing to the slot in the table. It’s glass on both sides and emits a brilliant blue light. You sit in a chair near the table and out your injured arm through the slot. He gently grabs your hand and guides it to the right position. You fold your legs criss-cross-applesauce on the chair.

It takes a while for the image of your wrist on the monitor. Bruce studies it for a couple moments and you stare blankly at the image of your bones. There’s a small break on the radius of your forearm near your hand.

“It’s a green-stick fracture, it uh looks like your healing factor has already begun to take care of it. Does it hurt?” You nod. “Alright, I can give you some of the painkillers that we give Peter when he’s hurt.” Bruce turns off the x-ray and lets you take your arm out before he gets up and rummages through a random cart.

You look up when someone places their hand on your shoulder. Steve smiles down at you. “We’re ordering food, what do you want?”

You shrug, staring back at the now blank monitor. “Something warm,”

“Alright, Shawarma it is.” Tony declares.

“We are not eating Shawarma again. Let's get something more palatable,”

“Shawarma is palatable.”

“Not three nights in a row,”

“JARVIS, place the usual order the Chinese place downtown.” Sam says, rolling his eyes at their squabbling.

“Done,” JARVIS’s automated voice rang out.

Bruce comes back over holding a small white pill in a small cup, a glass of water and what looks like a brace. You took it from him, easily swallowing the pill and water down.

“Put this on with it. It’ll keep your arm in the right position,”

“Thanks,” You say,slipping the brace on, tightening it and resting your injured arm on the table.

“They’ll begin to take effect in a few minutes. You should be able to shower and get dressed after that.”

You nod, looking back down at your lap. Soon enough, your wrist stopped hurting. You get up without a word and take yourself to the floor you and Peter stay on when you’re staying overnight. Peter is running errands with May, so he won’t be in until later.

You get to your room and push open the door. Tossing your bag and the brace on your bed, you plug in your phone and go to the bathroom. You turn on the shower to mildly scalding and peel of the wet clothes.

You take a nice long shower, taking your time in warming up, and crying a little more. The hot water washed away the rest of your tears, your frustration and the anxiety that you’ve been lugging around all day.

“Miss Y/N, the food has arrived. I recommend you get out soon before it is all gone.” JARVIS speaks. You sigh, turning off the water. You dry yourself off quickly enough and put on a soft crewneck sweater and a pair of large sweats and slip the brace back on.

You put on a pair of slippers and make your way to the communal floor to see Steve making himself a plate. He smiles when he sees you.

“Feeling any better, sweetie?”

“Kinda,” You shrug. “I’m really tired,”

“It’s been a long day, doll. Get some food, Sam’s putting on a movie,”

You nod, grabbing a plate from the stack near the food. You fill it up with what you want and go to sit in the living room. Tony lounges on the largest chair in the living room, Sam sits with his legs up on the love seat, and Bruce is curled up on the smaller of the chairs in the living room.

“Welcome back, kid.” Tony breathes out, stretching out lazily. He changed too, now donning a band shirt and some joggers.

“Hey,” you greet him, sitting on the sofa that’s next to the love seat.

“We’re watching Easy A once Steve gets his ass in here!” Sam begins with an even tone before throwing his head over his shoulder and yelling the last part.

“I’m coming, be patient.” He grumbles, taking a seat next to you and placing his food on the coffee table.

“Took you long enough, Capsicle. Start the movie, J.”

“Yes, sir.”

The lights in the living room dim, the surround sound starts and the movie begins to play. You sink in the couch, the comfortable plush calming you even more. With the help of the drugs and the brace, your wrist feels as good as knew. Gratitude warms you chest as you catch Tony’s eye. You smile at him.

‘Thank you’ you mouth. He only nods with an equally warm smile gracing his lips before turning back to the movie playing on the screen.

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

Text

december 22 - chris motionless

title: holiday hangouts

++++

sorry again this is late, this is the first day this week ive been able to sit down, write, edit, and even post so i hope you all will forgive my uncertain circumstances lol. i hope you all have had a good holiday season so far though and i wish you all a merry christmas eve!

prompt: "If i wanted a date to the christmas party i wouldve asked." "so it that a yes?" "...yes"

request from: n/a

tag list: @musicsexandpizza69 @svintsandghosts @alilpunkrock @theoneandonlykymberlee @cynic-spirit @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @xyours-eternallyx @thisplace-ishaunted @joeynihil

++++

i walked quickly around my room in my towel, trying to figure out what to wear. i had done my makeup and hair already, fairly natural so it could match anything, but i still didnt know what i wanted. the company Christmas party was tonight and i wasnt exactly sure if i should go more casual or not. i pulled a few dresses out and tossed them on my bed before flipping through my shirts. when i heard a knock at the door i drew my brows, jogging into the Living Room and looking through the peep hole. to my dismay chris was standing there and i immediately smacked myself mentally. i opened the door slowly.

"hey chris."

i said bashfully and his eyes went wide.

"well thats an interesting surprise."

he said through a laugh and i stepped to the side to let him in.

"if im being honest i forgot you were coming over today."

i said nervously, trying to keep my towel tucked under my arm.

"oh, well uh, do you want me to go? we can hang out another time."

he said pointing to the door and i shook my head.

"no, no, its fine. i could actually really use your help."

i said, grabbing his hand and dragging him down the hall to my room.

"okay?"

he said a little skeptical. when we got into my room he stopped and drew his brows.

"the company Christmas party is tonight and i am at a loss. you always like my looks but i have no idea what to wear."

i said in defeat. i looked to him and watched him stroke his chin, staring down at the bed. he picked up the one knee-length royal purple dress and held it against his chest.

"ya know, if you wore this one, we would match."

he said and i raised a brow.

"Chris, If i wanted a date to the Christmas party i would've asked."

i said and he gave me a suggestive look.

"hey, you asked for my help, we were supposed to hang out today. im just saying, i could go with."

he said, holding out the dress for me with a knowing smile on his face. i sent him a look before sighing and snatching the dress from him.

"so it that a yes?"

he asked as i walked into the bathroom. i stood there and thought for a second.

"...yes"

i said in defeat, watching him fist pump the air as i closed the door.

"i cant believe you even wore a black button down for us to sit on the couch and watch movies."

i said through the door as i pulled the dress on. i heard him laugh a little.

"well i guess i just know you. you always pull something out and i thought i should be prepared. you still have that tie laying around?"

he asked and i opened the door.

"yeah, its hanging in the back of my closet but could you zip this first?"

i asked, turning my back to him.

"who wouldve thought your ex leaving one thing behind would actually help us."

he said and i laughed, watching him disappear into the closet.

"does this count as a friend date?"

i asked, pushing earrings into my ears as he came back out into the room, fixing the tie into place.

"yes, yes it does."

---

"y/n! glad to see you could make it, a few of us have been waiting for your expertise on something."

my boss said, rushing to the door of the large house as one of my coworkers greeted me.

"oh, uh, okay."

i said lightly, surrendering my coat to the hostess and following carol into the living area. there, a few members of the accounting team were sat around the coffee table, a board game in front of them.

"and whos this?"

Des asked, nodding to chris as he came into view behind me.

"chris."

he said, stepping forward and offering his hand to shake.

"So, is this a boyfriend?"

my boss asked as she sat back on the couch, picking her glass of wine up off the side table. i laughed lightly, looking to him in confusion as he slipped his hand into mine.

"only just."

he said with a smile and i sent him a look.

"oh, well you two watch out for the mistletoe then, wouldnt wanna get too caught up."

jerry said, raising his glass to us. i laughed nervously.

"right."

i agreed, taking my hand back from chris.

"hey, you wanna go find us something to drink?"

i said suggestively at him and he nodded.

"ill be right back i guess."

he said to all of them before taking off down the short hall to the kitchen. i turned and looked back at all of them.

"so, what was it that you needed me for?"

---

as i walked with chris back out to the car he held my hand tightly. i could feel him shivering as snow started to fall around us. if anything the temperature dropped significantly since wed arrived and you could definitely tell.

"m'lady."

he said, letting go of my hand and opening the door for me.

"thanks."

i said as he shut it, me watching him jog around the car to the driver side.

"it is way too cold out there."

he mentioned, starting the car and rubbing his hands together. i turned the heat up and did the same, trying to warm up.

"agreed."

i said as he pulled slowly out of the driveway.

"hey,"

he said after a while and i turned to look at him.

"thanks again for letting me tag along."

he said and i smiled.

"no, im glad you did. im sure things wouldve been much more awkward. i am sorry for all the questions though."

i mentioned and he shrugged.

"its no big deal, i shouldve figured it would happen when i told them we were dating."

he said with a smile and i laughed.

"yeah, now im gonna get questioned around the office about my non-existent boyfriend."

i said and he shook his head.

"eh, it seemed like the most logical reason for me to be there."

he said and i nodded slowly.

"yeah i guess youre right."

i said with a side nod.

"besides,"

he said, drawing my attention.

"ive been wanting to ask you to be my girlfriend for a while but it just never seemed like the right time."

my eyes went wide as i stared at him, him looking to me quickly before turning his gaze back to the road.

"you want me to be your girlfriend?"

i asked and he let out a nervous laugh.

"i mean, if you want to."

i nodded quickly, taking his free hand into mine and interlocking our fingers.

"id love that chris."

he sent me a quick smile.

"great cause this wouldve been one awkward drive home if not."

i laughed, nudging his arm with my elbow.

"good thing you dont have to worry about it anymore then."

i said and he nodded.

"you are absolutely right. and now you dont have to worry about lying to your coworkers."

he said and i shook my head.

"no i dont."

i said leaning over the console and kissing his cheek quickly.

"what was that for?"

he asked and i shrugged.

"just a thanks."

he looked to me with a brow raised.

"thanks?"

he asked and i nodded.

"for making this Christmas a special one."

i said as he pulled up to the stop light slowly, finally looking at me fully.

"its the least i could do."

he said and i laughed.

"merry christmas chris."

i said, leaning in and giving him a quick but proper kiss. he smiled at me before turning back to the road and taking off as the light turned green.

"a merry christmas indeed."

#25 days of christmas requests #x reader #chris motionless #imagines #one shots #miw

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ahsoka-lives · 4 years

Text

Iris pt. 1

The Elevator Inquisitor!Cal x Reader- Parts 2&3 are up now!

Word Count: 1417

Warnings: none. nosmutyet

A/n: I cannot write summaries to save my life but this is the first part of a series I’m doing for Cal because I love him sm and there just is not enough fics for him! Pleaseeee be gentle I haven't written in ages but I am open to constructive feedback. Ty!!! I Forgot to put this in when I originally posted so I’m sorry about that but, the gif is NOT MINE. It’s by @calkesttiss

You considered yourself lucky. There were thousands of jobs to fill throughout the Empire, and you had managed to get one of the more comfortable ones. You were a droid technician on a remote imperial base where high ranking officers, special forces, and the ever-intriguing inquisitors lived when not doing the empire’s bidding. Unfortunately for you, there were more droids aboard the ship than people meaning your days were often busy. Each room was equipped with a kitchen droid and an automated laundry machine etc. Its a bit ridiculous, but you were in no position to make such comments.

You had just finished your last appointment for the day, the light control panel had given out in someone’s office, and you were making the fairly long walk back to your living quarters. As you walked past the massive training room you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander over the last few who were still going at it at this hour. Your eyes linger on a man who was blocking blaster shots fired from a training droid with a staff. His back muscles flex with every subtle and not so subtle movement of his arms that were equally toned. You felt your breath catch in your throat when you caught a glimpse of his face. He was beautiful. His hair was a brilliant reddish-orange that contrasted well with his black training gear. His jaw was sharp and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. And his eyes were such a nice compliment to his freckles, a deep green that reflected the light emitted by the blaster, and oh they were staring right at you.

Oh, Gods. How long had it been since he realized you were being a creep! A blush burned into your cheeks as you quickly turned to continue down the hall as fast as you could without running. What was Wrong with you?? Why did you have to drool over the possibly very dangerous man who was training to be more dangerous? You sigh to yourself as you reach the elevator and quickly push the button and step inside.

“Safe at last.” You mutter as you enter your floor code into the elevator pad. A light ding sounded and the doors began closing and they were so so close to shutting but you just weren’t that lucky. A hand shot between the doors causing them to hum open again. Tall and lean, the man you had been gawking at stepped in beside you.

You stiffened and forced your eyes ahead of you, wanting to avoid all and any eye contact. You can’t believe your luck. All this time on this base and you had managed to keep yourself out of any distasteful situations. And now, here you are chest pumping, eyes frozen ahead of you and thinking of how quickly he could take you out. Hell, he was probably trained for it and the men(and women) who resided here did not handle disrespect well. You frequently had to repair damages caused by the temperamental and egotistical residents. You recall how defined his arms were as the thought of them being used to snap your neck crossed your mind, only to be interrupted by the feeling of someone standing unbelievably close to you.

An arm was reaching over your shoulder with ease to input another floor causing you to gasp lightly. His chest was radiating warmth and it seeped across your shoulders and back. Before he could finish punching in his floor code you were shuffling away from him, putting as much space between you and his enticing warmth.

“Sorry, I- I wasn’t paying attention.” The words just tumble from your lips before you catch your brain forming them.

“Was I that distracting?” He muses now leaning against the elevator wall, relaxed and now he is the one staring. You feel his eyes burning holes into your head.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Great plan. Just pretend nothing ever happened. You almost want to laugh at yourself.

“Oh, so that was someone else’s heart I could feel pounding when I caught your eyes? Good to know.” You could practically hear the smirk forming on his lips.

Bing! Sweet relief, how long was that elevator ride??

“No, sorry you must be mistaken.” You rush your words and hurry to get off but your wrist is caught in his warm and surprisingly comforting hand- you’re cursing yourself for your thoughts and turn to face him. You’re certain your heart had stopped all together now. He was so close. His eyes boring into yours as you tried to wipe the scared look off your face.

“There’s no need to be afraid of me. I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice is deep and gentle as his eyes scan your face. He is so much prettier up close. His lips are a subtle pink and you can’t help but think how they might feel agains- Wait.. was he smirking again?

You snap out of it and you take your wrist from his grasp. You realize how flustered the elevator made you as you take in the free air. You also realize the man was now wearing a sweater, also black, but the most surprising was the symbol on the right side of his chest. He’s wearing the badge of an Inquisitor.

“Are you always this quiet...” He pauses and leans a bit toward you to read your ID badge. “Y/n” He sighs your name testing it on his tongue, seeing how it tastes. A small smile creeps onto his face and steps back into the elevator, letting the doors seal and finally carry him away.

You turn and rush to your room. You quickly lock the door behind you as if he would be knocking on your door at any moment. And if he wanted to, he could. Inquisitors are the highest ranking in the building. They lead the special forces units and the officers. They’re force-sensitive assassins with the utmost skill. Hell, some can even read minds. They each have their own private hall and keep mostly to themselves. They live by a different set of rules than the rest of us, they have more leeway to do as they please. It makes sense, with what they do for the empire, they must be kept content.

But what did that mean for you? He had said he didn’t want to hurt you which is a good sign.

You sigh and make your way to the shower. You turn on the water and let it warm up while you strip off your uniform. A simple pullover sweater and pants, your dress code was relaxed since you work where people live. You step under the warm water and let your brain unwind. Before you know it, your mind is back on the Inquisitor. Maker, he was pretty. Strong, agile but also somewhat kind and reserved. He gave off confidence but it wasn’t arrogance. Your mind wandered to his hands and how his touch felt against your skin, it made something swell inside of you that you almost didn’t recognize.

You groaned and shook your head. You did Not want to end up being tied to an Inquisitor. Could they even be involved with someone? You tell yourself you shouldn’t even care because it was never going to happen. Why are you even assuming he wants anything to do with the girl he caught staring at him from across the room?

After turning off the water and wrapping yourself in a towel you pick up your clothes to carry to your room. A light thud makes startles you, your ID had fallen from your sweater. You pick it up and glance over it, a nervousness comes over you as you remember that your badge not only says your name but your occupation and call number.

How much attention had the Inquisitor paid to your badge?

Beeeep boop beep!

A notification sounded on your tablet, someone booked an appointment with you.

“Read it to me, B-5.” You call to your droid who was cooking dinner in your kitchen.

“Appointment for Malfunctioning BD-1 Droid at 0900 Hours. Location: Floor level 7, Cal Kestis.” Your droid recites. “Would you like to see the full card, y/n?”

“Sure pull it up, B-5” You couldn’t remember issuing anyone a BD-1 droid so they must have brought it in themselves. You go meet your droid companion in the kitchen and there was the answer to your question, one of them anyways.

The Inquisitor paid great attention to your badge.

#cal kestis #starwars #cal kestis x reader #inquisitor!cal #jedi fallen order

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hypnoticwinter · 4 years

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole part 4

"You kids really ought to feel ashamed of yourselves," Peter says to them, and one of them, at least, the youngest, probably, judging by his looks, by the baby fat still on his cheeks, has the decency to feel embarrassed, to cast his glance downwards and away, to let his cheeks color with the shame of it. The other two, older, lankier, cooler, probably, just stare at him, hands folded in their laps. One of them, the girl, snaps her gum loudly.

There in the break room of Ranger Station 34c, the one with the old beige-painted walls that they never got around to redoing when they renovated the rest of the old Anodyne-era ranger stations, and the big poster from the 80s about the Roadless Rally, it's easy to forget that just fifteen feet below them is a pool of gastric acid powerful enough to strip flesh from bone within about five minutes flat, assuming total submersion.

"It was just a joke," the older boy says, and Peter rolls his eyes.

"Do you feel like it was a joke?" he asks, turning his gaze to the younger one. He must be around thirteen or fourteen. His hair is short but messy, like the barber wasn't paying attention when he'd cut it.

"No," the boy says, quietly, not willing to look Peter or the other two in the eyes. The girl snaps her gum again and Peter points at her.

"Spit that gum out," he tells her, nudging the wastepaper bin forward with his foot. Inside it he can see a printout of the memo that they'd emailed around earlier about the park staying open later for the firework show. Peter had groaned initially when he'd gotten it but then the promise of time and a half was transmitted in a reply and he'd felt better about it. The girl stares at him defiantly.

"You can't make me," she says. "You're not a cop."

"In here I am. Didn't you know that? Down here Rangers have almost the same authority as police do," he says, conscious, suddenly, of how he's resting his forearm almost lazily on the butt of his pistol. "I can make arrests, write tickets. Anything you can think of."

"Can you hold us here without charging us?" the older boy asks suddenly. He looks up at Peter with defiant eyes. "I want to –"

"How old are you?" Peter asks, not letting him finish. The boy shrugs.

"Nineteen."

"Really? Let me see your ID."

"Don't have it."

"Not in your wallet?" Peter asks, looking over at the table to his left, where he'd put the three kids' things. He walks over to it, pushes the girl's sweatshirt aside, picks up the small leather wallet with the embroidered fisherman on it. "This one yours?"

The kid won't answer him so he looks at the girl. "Is it yours?" he asks, waggling the wallet at her. She shakes her head after a moment.

"It's not mine," the youngest one volunteers.

"Well, look at that," Peter says. "Process of elimination. It's either yours or mine," he says to the oldest boy, making a show of patting his pockets. "Hmm, now where'd I leave my...oh, there it is," he says, pulling his own wallet out briefly, showing it to them. "Looks like this one's yours. You going to have to tell me how old you really are or do I have to look in here?"

"I said I'm nineteen," the boy repeats. Peter flips open the wallet, sorts through an insurance card and a Subway giftcard before finding the kid's ID. He pulls it out and studies it.

"Nineteen, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Bad at math, huh? When's your birthday?"

"June third."

"The year, smartass."

"Uh –"

"Too bad. You wouldn't have to think that long about it. You're seventeen," he says, fingering the ID. "Happy birthday..." he stops, looks down at the ID and back up at the older boy, enjoying the way his face tightens. "...Fitzroy. Hell of a name."

"Alright," Makado says, bursting through the door, a little out of breath. She glares at Peter. "I'm here. What the hell was so important?"

Peter nods to the eldest boy and the girl. "Why don't you tell her?"

"It was a joke," the girl says.

"Just a prank," Fitzroy agrees.

Peter shakes his head, looks at Makado. "These two," he says, pointing to the girl and the boy, "pushed this kid off of a walkway and were taunting him while he was slipping down into the pool below this ranger station." He gets a perverse sort of satisfaction watching Makado's cinnamon complexion pale slightly.

"Jesus," she breathes. "Thank you for not putting that on the radio."

"I'm not a total idiot."

"Look, what's the big deal?" the girl says. "It's not like we were going to let him drown, we would have jumped in after him."

The youngest boy shudders. Peter watches Makado's eyes narrow. "Did you see any signs down here?" she asks, her tone very cold. After a moment the girl shakes her head. "You," she says, turning her attention to Fitzroy. "People are only allowed down here as part of a ranger-lead tour, how did you get down here?"

He mumbles something.

"What was that?" Makado asks, cocking her head. He explains that they waited until a ranger slid his card to unlock the fence and then distracted him once he'd gone through by pretending to be lost and had asked questions for long enough that he'd forgotten to lock the gate after him. Makado rolls her eyes on hearing this, looks at Peter. "It must have been DeAngelis," she says. "He's the only one dumb enough to fall for that."

"Not everybody's as paranoid as you are," Peter reminds her, and she laughs.

"And yet I'm a head ranger and everybody else isn't. Wonder why that is?"

"Can we go now?" the Fitzroy asks, and Makado glares daggers at him.

"Absolutely not," she says. "You two," she says, pointing at him and the girl, "are going to the police station topside, and you're going to be booked for attempted murder."

"What?" the girl shrieks. The boy looks scared for a moment but regains his cool and laughs.

"You're just trying to scare us," he says, but Makado shakes her head, looking grimly satisfied.

"First," she says, counting on her fingers, "you're trespassing. On federal property, I should add, which is a fairly serious crime. Up to six months in prison, and a $500 fine."

"But we were –"

"Shut up," Peter tells them.

"Second, you aren't being incredibly cooperative right now, which is really only going to make things worse for you in the long run."

The girl looks like she wants to say something but thinks better of it.

"Third, the pool beneath this structure is the largest digestive bulb in the upper Pit area," she says significantly, glancing between the three of them. The younger one frowns, then pales. "You have any idea what that means?" she asks the girl, who shakes her head.

"The pool isn't water, or whatever you thought it was. It's acid."

"Bull," the older boy says.

"You think we'd be going to all this trouble if we weren't serious?" Peter asks. Neither of them have an answer. He looks over at Makado, jerks his head towards the table behind them. "Check out what's in the wallet over there."

She looks at him, then turns around, flips open the wallet. Peter can hear her rustling through it but he's watching Fitzroy, watching the way he squirms, watching the way he can't quite seem to meet Peter's eyes.

Makado makes a very small noise that Peter swears must have been her chuckling, but when she turns back around, perhaps a half a second later than he might have expected her to, her face is deadly serious. "Looks like we're adding drug possession to the list of charges," she says. Fitzroy makes a strangled noise somewhere in his throat and the girl groans.

"Come on!" she says. Her tone is pleading. "It's only a dub!"

"I'm going to pretend I know what that means," Makado tells her. She turns to Peter, leans in to whisper in his ear. "I'll call someone. Take them up to the surface and kick them out."

"No charges?" he murmurs.

"Of course not. They're kids. I'll keep the weed, though, that should teach them a lesson. Probably about twenty dollars' worth in this bag."

Peter nods and Makado pulls her radio out of its holster, clicks it over to the general channel. "Makado here, unattached rangers in Lower Gastro Zone B, respond please."

She takes her finger off the button and waits. Quiet static rumbles to itself on the channel, then the radio squawks.

"Makado, it's Maria. I just clocked out and I was heading back to the LVC, do you need me to clock back in?"

"Stand by, Maria," she says. She glances at Peter. "I forgot," she growls. "There's that stupid fireworks display tonight."

"Yeah, we're staying open until..."

"I forget. Midnight? Something like that."

"Hey, you're a Head Ranger, I figured you would know."

"Wait a minute," Makado frowns, clicking the radio on again. "Maria," she asks, "isn't everybody working late tonight? Why are you clocking out already?"

"I got permission from Carl," Maria says. "Cause my mom is in bed with that fever, you know, and I have to pick up my kid, and I don't have anybody else who can –"

"Okay, Maria," Makado says, "that's okay. You go on and go home."

"Are you sure? I've got about half an hour before –"

"Don't worry about it, Maria. Makado out."

"Roger."

Peter looks at Makado and Makado looks at Peter. "Whatever," she says. "We can take them up."

"You don't have more important things to do?"

"Probably," she admits. "But maybe I need a break."

"Alright kids," Peter says, turning to the three of them. Fitzroy and the girl have been whispering back and forth to each other the whole time, their faces drawn and serious, the gravity of the situation finally breaking over them. The youngest one is trying not to look smug but that disappears when Peter glares at him, lumping him in with the three of them. "All of you are in big trouble. Even you," he says, pointing to the youngest. "What's your name?"

"Tyler," he says in a small voice.

"Tyler, you were still trespassing. Don't think you're getting out of this scot-free."

"Are we doing good-cop bad-cop?" Makado murmurs in his ear. He can feel her breath on his earlobe and it sends a row of goosebumps cascading up his spine. "I thought I was usually the bad cop."

"You can be the bad cop later," he mutters back, keeping his eyes fixed on the kids. He feels more than hears her lips part in a smile.

"Let's go," she says.

They do. Peter happens to look at his watch before they all file out of the break room, him in the rear, watching the kids; the time is 9:30 at night on July 4th, 2007.

* * *

While they're marching down the long fenced-in corridor out of Lower Gastro Zone B back to the utility lift that will take them back to the Lower Visitor Center and, from there, ultimately to the surface, Peter considers the pink, fleshy walls pressed against the fence. This particular corridor suffered a contraction about a week ago when a stent failed and the Pit's muscles naturally filled in the resulting extra space. There was a tour group in the corridor when it happened and according to a friend of his, who was leading the tour group at the time, four people of the twelve fainted.

For the moment it's safe, though, since the temporary extra stents installed by Engineering are holding back the passage from complete collapse, but a more permanent solution will have to be sought soon. From what he understands they'll have to either go back in and tease the flesh back from the fence and insert additional permanent stents, as well as repair parts of the path that had buckled under the sudden change in pressure, or give up on this corridor altogether and widen out a new one, link it up to the vast network of passageways making up the lit, reinforced networks of the Pit.

He doesn't reflect on it often, but when things like this happen, when stents fail, when things go wrong (which is thankfully fairly rare, at least in his experience), Peter can't help but think of what it must be like, to be trapped in a corridor like this if it were to totally collapse in on itself, if, by some unlucky and unlikely coincidence, every stent were to fail simultaneously. As far as he knows nothing like that has ever happened in the history of the park, but it's a possibility, if a vague one. If you were in a proper suit you'd probably survive, the suits are armored and rated against a certain level of crushing pressure, but the kind he's wearing now, the lighter, 'interior-work' suit, wouldn't be able to stand up to that kind of abuse. It's only the heavy, reinforced engineer suits that would let you survive, and even then if you didn't have a supply of personal stents and probably a laser cutter you'd be trapped there, alive but unable to move, surrounded by throbbing, crushing flesh, unable to do anything but call for help on your helmet radio and watch the air in your canister tick down until you ran out and asphyxiated.

Peter's not bothered by tight spaces �� when you get hired at the Mystery Flesh Pit you have to pass a claustrophobia test, even if you're working at the Burger King in the LVC – but even without any phobia of it the thought isn't pleasant.

He finds his eyes wandering down Makado's figure, lithe and supple even in the bulk of her ranger suit, at the way her sides taper inwards and then frill outwards pleasantly at her hips. He watches her hips sway as she walks. He knows he shouldn't look but he does anyway.

Ahead of him he sees Makado incline her head downwards and tap her earpiece, listening intently. He flips through the channels on his radio briefly but hears nothing out of the ordinary – whatever she's hearing must be on the command channel he doesn't have access to. Still walking forwards, she turns briefly and looks back at him; their eyes meet for a moment, then she turns back around. If the look was supposed to carry any significance or meaning, he misses it.

She says something into the radio then slows to a stop, turns around. "Alright kids, hold up for a second," she says. Peter slips past the three of them, sidles up to Makado. "Got a call from Control," she mutters. "There's a flooding issue in the Sand Gullet."

Peter's eyebrows raise. "How bad?"

"Don't know. Engineering is on the way right now, we'll know more in a couple minutes."

"What happened?"

"Pump failure."

"I mean, that's not so unusual. It's been raining cats and dogs today and they really ought to have replaced those pumps in waves instead of waiting to do all of them at once."

"Sorry," Makado says. Something in her tone cuts a quiet sliver of dread across Peter's belly. "I misspoke," she tells him. "The emergency pump failed."

It takes a moment for him to process that but when he does his eyes widen. "Oh fuck," he says.

"Oh fuck," she agrees. "Listen to me. You're down here more often than I am. Closest constriction-rated shelter from here?"

"Safest is the ranger station we came from. Closest is the elevator housing ahead. Your call, you know the Sand Gullet better, if it's full enough that the e-pump would have kicked in..."

Makado shakes her head briefly. "We can make it back to the ranger station. Hunker down, ride it out. Safest place in a constriction, those gastric pools don't have many muscles surrounding them."

"It'll take ten minutes to get back there."

"Five if we stop talking and run for it. Let's go."

The kids almost panic when Makado tells them that the area is becoming unsafe and they will need to run as fast as they can back to the ranger station they came from, but Peter grabs Fitzroy and Tyler and Makado grabs the girl whose name he still does not know, and as they run Peter puffs out what reassuring nothings he can in between breaths, trying to make it seem like this is less of a big deal than it is. Than it might be.

They keep as quick of a pace as they can. Makado's lean physique could easily outstrip all of them but she stays at the girl's pace, helping her up when she trips and stumbles, letting Peter and the boys get ahead. They cover the long hallway in a few minutes while Peter focuses on his breathing, in through his nose and out through his mouth. Tyler is flagging a little but keeping up, and all of Fitzroy's cockiness seems to have departed him at this point. His eyes are wide and frightened.

The path diverges into a fork. They came from the left, Peter remembers. He puts his hand out, catches himself on the fence, pushes off and keeps running. He glances behind as he does and sees Makado, face drawn, eyes grim, nodding at him, just behind. He can smell the gastric bulb ahead.

The lights snap off with an audible click and a hum of powering-down electrical lines. "Fuck!" Peter yells, skidding to a stop, drawing the two boys closer in so they don't fall. Makado plows into his back and Peter stumbles but keeps his balance.

"Why the hell are the lights off?" she asks. "Did we lose power?"

"We must have," Peter says, snapping the flashlight from his belt and clicking it on. He angles it upwards towards one of the heavy-duty fluorescent fixtures but can't see any obvious signs of damage. "We must have," he repeats.

"Makado to Control, over," Makado intones, pressing her earpiece deeper into her ear. She repeats herself twice before shaking her head and pulling out her radio and flicking through the channels. "This is Makado," she says on the general line. "We've got a power loss in LGZ Bravo, can anybody confirm if this is localized?"

Nothing but static, stronger than before. She looks at Peter significantly. "It must be the whole park," she says after a moment. "The repeaters are down."

She looks at the kids. "We need to move. Now."

"Wait, Makado –"

"No time," she says, hustling them along towards the ranger station. The constriction hits before she's taken ten steps, and it's so strong that Peter drops his flashlight, sending it skidding crazily ahead of them and then off of the walkway through the fence, casting shadows that flex and writhe and skitter. The girl is screaming and Makado is huddling over her, keeping her still; one of the boys, Tyler, he thinks, cries out, and he can hear Fitzroy breathing heavily at his side, and Peter realizes that without even thinking about it he has grabbed them both and taken them down to the floor of the walkway with him. He wants to squeeze his eyes shut and wait for it to be over but he forces himself not to. Outside the fence the fleshy walls of the conduit they're in are writhing and convulsing. He can hear the faint, distant rumble of a carnal moan, coming from somewhere deep in the Pit's gullet, but the actual noise is really fairly soft; just a wet, squishing sound, the slapping of muscle twitching and clenching in on itself, and then a sound that strikes dread into his very core – the snapping pop of a hydraulic stent failing.

The lights flicker back online, which surprises Peter, and as they all blink in the sudden brightness he and Makado lock eyes; he sees from her expression that she also heard the stent fail, and they scramble to their feet, hauling the kids upwards with them. The girl is clutching her wrist; she looks almost mad with fear, staring around at the fleshy walls of the corridor, several feet closer to the fence than they were before the lights went out and still shuddering and convulsing against the retaining plate in the ceiling. He hears the stent nearest them let out a dangerous hiss. Makado shakes her head.

"Double-time it," she commands, starting back down the corridor.

"Makado, wait," he repeats, looking back down towards the elevator, a long way off and out of sight.

"No time," she says, pushing the girl ahead of her. Halfway down, where the stent failed, the fence has been bent inwards and the flesh is puckered into a wrinkled, ugly cone, leaving enough room to crawl through. It would be tight, though, and likely the fence would catch on some of their gear. Makado touches her earpiece and swears, pulls it out, then takes out her radio and examines it. Even from ten feet away Peter can see that it's busted; she must have fallen on it when the convulsion knocked her off her feet. "We need to get to that ranger station," she tells Peter, and he shakes his head.

"Makado, we can't."

"What?"

"Think about it. The power was still out when that convulsion hit," he explains, pulling his own radio out and handing it to her. As she takes it and plugs her earpiece into it, he continues. "If the power was out, then the hydraulics would have been out too. And if –"

"Shit, you're right," she says, reaching out to steady herself as another tremble runs through the corridor. Almost a full second after, they feel the walkway shudder as the Pit convulses again, someplace deeper in its anatomy. Tyler stumbles and Peter reaches out and catches him. For the first time since he's known her, Makado looks unsure. Past her shoulder, Peter sees the crumpled cone of flesh ahead of them crunch inwards another inch or so. He can see blood dripping down from the chain links where they've dug into it. He shakes his head.

"If we go down that way," he says, pointing at it, "we'll get trapped down there. And if the ranger station slipped or got dislodged and it's sinking into the bulbule right now..."

Another convulsion rocks through the corridor. Makado falls to her knees, then pitches sideways – the cone has finally crushed the fence entirely and canted that section of walkway at a crazy angle. Past it they hear a muffled thump as another stent fails. The Pit shudders.

Peter holds out his hand and Makado takes it. She nods at him.

"Alright," she says. "Let's go."

"Are we going to –" Tyler starts, but Peter shakes his head.

"No talking," he says, grabbing ahold of Tyler and Fitzroy's hands. "We need to go."

Two more stents collapse as they make their way down the corridor, jogging now, not willing to risk a full sprint in case of another rolling wave of convulsions pitching the walkway beneath them and throwing them off. Luckily, the stents ahead seem to be holding. The second stent that collapsed did so barely twenty seconds after they passed under it, and the noise was so loud that even Makado yelped in surprise and the five of them huddled closer together for a moment, watching the muscles of the Pit crush the reinforced steel into an irregular ovoid pellet. After that they hurried even quicker. The utility lift they're heading to is contained within a reinforced access shaft, one that Peter reasons will likely have been able to withstand the convulsions of the Pit, even if they've gotten bad. He wonders briefly, stumbling a little amid flickering lights as the corridor tilts again, what things are like in the Visitor Center; if the power went out and there was a choke response simultaneously, there could have conceivably been some serious damage.

"Hey, Mak," he calls ahead, and Makado turns, breathing heavily, looks at him. She's told him not to call her that, not at work at least, but he figures that right now it's the least of their concerns. Plus it's easier to say, fewer syllables; less of a strain on his tiring lungs. Tyler is practically done for already and Fitzroy isn't doing much better. It's a long distance to the elevator and every branch they pass, Peter's seen something worrying. Corridor to Rest Stop 23? Collapsed inwards when a stent failed close to their end of the corridor. Lots of blood. The Pit's or some poor ranger or visitor trapped in exactly the wrong place? There's nothing so dramatic as an arm or a hand or a leg sticking out of the scrunched, wrinkled orifice. Corridor to the Lower Interpit Campground? There's a lesser copepod lurking on the rounded, livid ceiling, roughly the size of a deer, antennae prickling with anticipation as he and Makado stopped to consider it. Further down the lights were flickering, and even further down the lights were out entirely. They looked at each other and Makado shook her head.

"Mak," he says again. "Have you gotten anything on the radio?"

"Thought I told you not to call me that," she mutters, fiddling with the radio. She unplugs her earpiece, turns the volume up. They all listen; even Fitzroy and the girl cock their heads intently. Where before there was static and the tantalizing hint of communication, just too fuzzy for them to be able to make out, there is just a worrying soft noise. "The repeater must be completely fucked," she says. She switches to the general channel. "This is Makado, can anybody hear this? Respond, over."

The seconds tick by. Somewhere close by but obscured by pounds and yards of flesh, a stent collapses. Peter jumps when it does, the thumping noise like the beating of a heart, praying that it wasn't any place they needed to go.

The convulsions have slowed now, still passing in rolling waves of panic, but with longer and longer intervals between them. Even the girl, whose name he still does not know, doesn't shriek when the walls writhe, but merely looks at them with a horrible emptiness in her eyes, as though she's simply waiting for it to be over. She hasn't spoken a word in about ten minutes now, and Makado has to coax her into jogging with them when they do move forward.

Makado shakes her head, holds the button down again. "This is Makado," she repeats. "Can anybody –"

The radio squawks and they all jump. Makado nearly drops it. "-akado, it's – trapped in the –" a voice says, tinny with static. Peter can barely make it out, let alone determine who it is. Once the noise stops Makado taps the button twice. "Makado here, I don't know who said that but we can barely hear you, please repeat? Over."

"Makado," comes the reply, a little better. "It's Carl. Can you hear – now? Respond please."

"Carl, we hear you," she says urgently. "Are you alright?"

"No," he says. He sounds frightened. "I'm in access tunnel 32, a stent... -apsed and I'm trapped, I can get into - ...Campground, but –"

From there, the broadcast devolves into indistinguishable noise. Makado frowns at Peter. "Access tunnel 32, that's on the other side of the Campground, right?"

"Yeah," Peter nods. "32, 41, and 17 feed into it."

"Carl, we heard most of that," she broadcasts. "Get to the campground and sit tight, Peter and I will rendezvous there in ten minutes, how copy?"

Nothing. Nothing at all. Peter blows his breath out. "The campground is probably a mess right now."

"Yes," Makado agrees, "but it won't have constricted enough to have blocked off passage, it's too big of a bulb. We can get through and then meet up with Carl, and then we can all get to the elevator and take off together. If he's alone in there –"

"Do you want to split up?" Peter asks, looking significantly at the teenagers. They've been watching Peter and Makado's conversation with terrified faces. They seem to have accepted for the moment that they're safe, but whatever claustrophobia they might have had before they entered the Pit is coming back in spades. Tyler keeps looking up at the ceiling as though it might collapse inwards on them at any moment, although, realistically speaking, a collapse like that would be all sides and all angles at once, realistically speaking, and if it were bad, they'd be pinned between the fence and the walkway and get the breath crushed out of them that way.

"No, absolutely not," Makado says. "We've all got to stick together."

"But the kids –"

"I am not letting them go off alone and get picked off by a shamble or something, and I am not letting you or myself go and try to meet up with Carl alone and have the same damn thing happen. Did you see the size of that copepod back there?" she asks, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. "We'll have to go that way, you know."

"I know, I know, it's just –"

She reaches out, puts her hand on his shoulder, pulls him inwards. For one insane moment Peter thinks she is about to kiss him, but then her chin lands on his shoulder and she whispers into his ear, "Pete, I'm scared too. I don't want to die down here. But we have got to get these kids out, and we have to get Carl. If he's hurt, if he's in trouble, we're going to help him. You and me can make it happen."

Peter nods after a moment and then Makado squeezes his shoulder and is gone, hunkering down and gathering the three teenagers close to her. "Listen to me, guys," she says, "I need you two," she says, looking at Tyler and Fitzroy, to take care of...honey, what's your name?"

Peter sees the girl's lips move but she doesn't actually say anything. "Her name is Eileen," Fitzroy says.

"Eileen," Makado says, "you're doing great."

"I'm scared," Eileen murmurs.

"I know, honey, but you're doing great. We're going to be down here for just a little longer and then we'll be going outside, okay?"

"We have to go get your friend, don't we?" Tyler asks, and Makado nods. Peter turns around so that the three teenagers won't be able to see and takes out his service pistol, checks that it's loaded. He knows it is but something about doing this makes him feel a little better.

When he turns back around the kids look a little better. Tyler looks determined, at least, and Fitzroy doesn't look quite as panicked as before. He doesn't know what Makado told them; probably some kind of empty promise about them being back on the surface quickly. No, stop that, he thinks. We will be back on the surface quickly. This is just a choke response. They probably already have pumps working in the sand gullet. Everything will be fine.

They make the trip down to the campground cautiously. The copepod lurking on the ceiling has disappeared since they moved past and Peter isn't sure whether or not that's a good sign. When they get to the darkened section of the hallway Peter draws his pistol. Makado looks at him, as do the kids. He gives them a smile and shrugs. "Just in case," he explains.

But they are lucky and don't run into anything, other than another lesser copepod, a smaller one than the one before, that takes one look at them and scurries off like an overgrown cockroach.

The campground is situated in a large gastric bulb that, a very long time ago, had been drained of its contents and various campsites marked out, which provided for slightly more comfortable camping quarters than just setting up a tent in a bronchial canal or other tubule. It was roomy, with fairly spectacular calcium deposits for an area as high up in the Pit as it was. There were even a few electrical outlets, as well as a restroom. The convulsions have put all that to hell, though; the restroom and camping platforms have cracked and tilted, and while the retaining shunts and plates seem to be alright, there's a small rupture in the ceiling where it looks like a bone might have torn through the thin, vulnerable flesh, and a steady stream of what proves to be gastric juices is pouring in from the tear, mixing noxiously with the Pit's blood and falling in thick, sticky rivulets to the floor, where it's already collected in a depression. A small pack of macrobacteria, about ten or so, are rolling about the pool; they must have came in from the entrance to the lower organ trails, over there on the left, a dark, gaping chasm in the floor. The stairs leading down to it still seem intact, so perhaps everything's alright down there – but, Peter reflects, if macrobacteria have gotten in, that means that something nastier might have as well.

"Do you see Carl?" he asks Makado, sweeping the beam of her flashlight across the vast bulb. The campground looks deserted, as it should have – there wasn't anybody in here all day, as far as he knows. There weren't any permits issued for this area, at any rate, so nobody, no guests at least, should have been in here.

"I don't –" Makado starts, then trails off. He glances back at her and then follows the beam of her flashlight, and sees a body laid out on the floor, almost in the corner of the bulb, with a round macrobacterium squatting evilly on its upper chest. He can see the ranger suit and knows it must be Carl, it simply must be.

"Shit," Peter says, taking a step forwards.

"Peter," Makado hisses, desperate. "Peter, don't."

"I have to see," he growls. "He might be okay."

"He's gone, Peter."

"Goddam it!" he says, as loud as he dares. One of the macrococci tumbling about the gastric stream pauses for a moment and they watch with bated breath, but it resumes its gamboling just as quickly. Peter creeps closer to Carl's supine form, the sucking noises the bacterium is making nearly turning his stomach. When he gets to within about ten feet of it he looks back at Makado. She shakes her head slowly but Peter can't stop, he has to know, he'd want Carl to be this tenacious for him, he'd want every effort to be made. He looks at the macrococcus; it's big and spiky, the size of a beach ball, its oral groove turned to Carl's face. He'll be okay, Peter tells himself, he's just passed out because of lack of oxygen, he's suffocating. If I get it off of him he'll be fine.

The bacterium's flagellae waggle with slow, lazy motions that Peter can't help but interpret as satisfaction. "Fuck it," he mutters, then takes a few running steps and swings his leg out like he were kicking a football and punts the bacterium away from Carl. It's a magnificent kick, really; it sails off in an arc and splatters against a calcium deposit fully thirty or forty feet away, a thick yellow mucus bursting out of it like a water balloon, the thing's deflated skin sliding weakly and wetly to the ground. Peter sees none of this; he can feel his gorge rising. Behind him, Makado groans and covers Eileen's eyes; Tyler looks away, but Fitzroy cannot stop looking, for there, limp on the ground, is the maculated, jawless corpse of Carl, his eyes popped and sucked out of their sockets, his tongue abraded to a stump, all of the flesh from his cheekbones to his collarbone devoured by the macrobacterium.

Peter doesn't recognize Makado when she grabs his arm and drags him away, cursing at him, begging him to work with her here, dammit, doesn't notice when Tyler and Fitzroy both take ahold of him and help pull him back the way they came. He regains control of his legs somewhere along the access pathway. They make it to the elevator and Peter collapses against the thick reinforced wall, eyes shut, still feeling queasy. He can't get the image of Carl's half-eaten face out of his mind. Makado pushes the button and then goes, sits next to him, rests her head on his shoulder. The kids huddle in their own corner, equally drained and exhausted. Eileen threw up on the way there and she still looks green.

"I'm sorry," Makado says.

"I should have listened to you," Peter tells her. "I should have just..."

"Don't."

"I should have –"

"Peter, don't."

He realizes that he's crying, then a moment later realizes that Makado is as well.

The elevator is on its way down, the readout proclaims, and Fitzroy lets out a ragged whoop. Makado lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and wipes her eyes. "Alright," she says, looking at the teenagers. "We're halfway there. It'll take a little bit for the elevator to get here, but we're halfway there. You guys are doing great."

Mumbles and nods. Peter gets up and stretches. He feels a little better. Eileen even manages a little smile, after some coaxing from Makado.

It's quiet for a moment or two, and then there is a crackle from the PA speaker on the wall. Everyone looks up at it; Makado frowns, glances at Peter. "Anybody who can hear this," the voice states, "brace for choke response RIGHT NOW!"

Peter has only a split second to see the flash of panic flutter across the broad, fine lines of Makado's face before the floor bucks beneath them and hurls him into the wall head-first, and darkness takes him.

Continue with Part 5

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cecevolume · 4 years

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On The List (Part One)

Prompt from @halfbloodfox: I’m looking for something where Lucifer has to take care of Trixie. Maybe, Decker is stuck at court testifying on a case, Dan is whothefuckknowswhere, Maze is on a hunt and at school Trixie gets hurt or sick. Surprise, Lucifer gets the call. He’s on The List? Since when? During Season 2 or 3, pre 4 nonsense at least. What do you think?

This was...unexpected. And perhaps a little unprecedented.

Just a half hour before, it had been a semi-normal day for he and the detective, dressed in their best--well, not him, but the respect for the court was there--as Chloe waited to be called to testify. Per usual, he tagged along, a charming ace in the hole, just in case.

But then his shirt had started buzzing outside the large double doors; to be more exact, his phone was ringing.

“Lucifer,” Chloe hissed as a clerk eyed them while they passed by, “turn it off vibrate!”

Smiling winningly, he reached for his chest pocket, purring, “An honest mistake, Detective; I assure you, I know proper procedure for the courtroom.” He glanced at the screen, eyebrow raising as a bell of familiarity rang in his head. “Should I know this number?” he asked, turning the screen towards Chloe.

She frowned, taking the phone from him as she murmured, “That’s Trixie’s school.”

“But why--”

Holding up a hand to stop him, she answered, “Hello? Yes, Ms. Hendersen, I’m being brought to testify today. Uh huh. Oh, no, did you try Dan? Of course not. No, no, it’s not a problem; I’ll send Lucifer to pick her up.” She paused for a long time, a muscle ticking in her brow. “That’s a question for him at another time, don’t you think? Uh huh. Yeah, goodbye.”

Tilting his head, Lucifer asked, “Was that Trixie’s lovely school administrator--”

“Don’t. Even. Star,” Chloe growled, handing him back his phone. The door beside them opened just a crack and the DA motioned for her to join them. With a nod, she didn’t spare Lucifer a glance as she moved to the doors. “I need you to pick up Trixie; she threw up in math class. I’ll leave here as soon as I get the okay.” Before she squeezed in the door, she muttered quickly, “Ginger ale--she likes Canada Dry best--for her stomach, some toast or crackers to have in her system. Make sure she takes little sips. This should be done in a couple hours and then I’ll be home.”

“Detective--” he said in alarm, reaching towards her, but the door was already closed. For a moment, he just stood there, wondering two things simultaneously: did Chloe really trust him with her sick offspring and why did the school call his phone?

It hardly mattered now, however, what made sense. Sitting in his Corvette outside an elementary school, he found that he was...uncomfortable. It wasn’t often there was a situation he found himself unable to figure out--in fact, the first hadn’t been until he’d met the detective two years before--yet here he was. Sure, he’d learned how to occupy Trixie, but this was new territory.

How did one pick up a sick child from their school and adequately take care of them?

Taking a deep breath, he got out of his car, striding towards the doors. How hard can it truly be? he wondered, confidence growing the closer he got to the building. If Daniel can do it, of course I’ll be able to.

Following the signs to the “office”--a large, gray room with children’s paintings hanging everywhere, most of the space taken up by a quadruple desk with five women squished side by side at their computers--Lucifer idly took out his handkerchief, wiping his hands as he eyed several of the drawings.

Surprisingly, there were a few that showed a real talent, should they continue honing the craft.

“Hello?” one of the women greeted hesitantly to his back. “Can I help you?”

He turned with a charming grin, noting the immediate softening of all the secretaries’ faces. “Hello, ladies,” he answered, strolling to the desk with his hands in his pockets. “I actually received a call from Debra--Ms. Hendersen, asking that I pick up Beatrice Decker-Espinoza. I know I’m not her parent--”

“Oh, you’re the infamous Lucifer Morningstar!” the first woman cried, nearly tipping her chair backwards as she stood. Holding out a hand, she added, “Trixie is through that door, in the nurse’s office. Karen will go and grab her while you sign her out.” She shoved a clipboard with an attached pen under his nose. “Just her name, your name, why you’re picking her up, and the time.”

Holding the pen, he raised an eyebrow at the woman. That was certainly easy. Did she already know to expect a deal? Or was this her idea of flirting? The memory of Malcolm Graham flashed through his mind and his gaze turned foreboding. “Is it truly that easy to just pluck a child from your facilities?” he demanded, anger burning in his belly.

“Oh, my, you’re right! I do need your picture ID to compare your information to what we have in the system,” she answered quickly, blushing wildly. “I’m so sorry, it’s just that Debra gave such a...thorough description of you, I completely forgot!”

He slowly reached for his wallet, pulling out his license and handing it to her. “Why would a primary school have my information?”

“Well, after the...kidnapping,” she said slowly, peeking a quick glance at one of the other women, who dropped her head, “Ms. Decker updated the people on Trixie’s approved list. We aren’t supposed to release her to anyone other than her parents, her grandparents, or you. There is a Mazikeen Smith on here, too, but that’s on a call ahead basis. But if Ms. Decker and Mr. Espinoza aren’t available, we’re to contact you first.”

Blinking in shock, he made a noncommittal noise in his throat, taking back his ID and signing out the urchin. “I, uh, thank you for your diligence,” he murmured, spinning on his foot to stride towards the chairs lining the windowed walls. He was allowed to just come to the school and pick up Chloe’s child whenever he felt like? No permission, no questions, no call aheads necessary?

Chloe Decker trusted the life of her offspring in the hands of the Devil?

“Lucifer?” a small voice whined from behind him, making him turn back around.

Straightening his jacket and cuffs, he answered, “Your mother has been held up in court today, Spawn. So she sent me with clear instructions.” He’d already called Patrick at LUX to provide the Canada Dry and crackers. “I’ll be taking care of you this afternoon, until she is finished. Is that all right?”

The little girl nodded her head slowly, face pale as she reached for his hand. When he didn’t immediately take it, tears started to fill her eyes and he panicked.

Taking her hand gingerly, he raised the other to wave at the women. “Thank you very much for your help.”

Then they were off.

-.-

If she hadn’t felt so gross, Trixie might have giggled at the scene before her.

Lucifer had brought her back to his penthouse, explaining that it was closer to both the courthouse and school, that her mother wouldn’t be too much longer. She’d thrown up during the elevator ride, only half-listening as he tried desperately to comfort her in the weirdest ways--“I’ll have the cleaners come straight away; you don’t have to worry about cleaning it yourself”--when he’d picked her up, rushing her through the doors to the bathroom.

He’d waited there, awkwardly patting her back until she was finished. He’d then ushered her through to the couch, saying, “Don’t worry, urchin; I’m sure I have a bowl somewhere, or at least something similar.”

And there he’d left her, bringing them to now. His suit jacket was gone, the sleeves of his white undershirt rolled up. He held a fuzzy black blanket in one hand, a paint bucket in the other, holding them out to her. “I’m sorry it took so long; I had to go into LUX’s storage to find a...vomit receptacle.” When she didn’t take it from him, he placed it directly beside her face on the floor, gripping both edges of the blanket to lay it over her. “I don’t know if you have a fever or not, but I’ve noticed you and your mother enjoy your ‘snuggle blankets’, as it were. This is the softest one I could find; I hope it’s...snuggly enough for you.”

She giggled a bit, sniffling. “Thank you, Lucifer,” she murmured. “Can I have some ginger ale? And something to eat?”

Nodding curtly, he turned towards the hallway that led to his mysterious kitchen. “I have a variety of crackers, from wheat to sesame to pepper; do you have a preference in this state?” he called from the other room, the sound of cabinets closing echoing his words.

“Do you have saltines? Or the Ritz circle ones?” she asked.

He was silent for a long time before she saw him come back around the corner. “Well, there’s no accounting for taste,” he sighed striding back in to the room. Brandishing a crystal plate that held at least half a box of both saltines and Ritz crackers, he set it on the coffee table. “And Patrick will be bringing your ginger ale up; I assume a case should be adequate for just a few hours?”

Smiling, she said, “That’s actually way too much.” He started to open his mouth, but Trixie knew better than to push the teasing with him. “Will you turn on the TV and watch with me? My mom usually rubs my back when I’m sick.”

After a moment, he nodded, crossing to the mantle to grab the remote. He sat on the opposite side of the couch, pressing some buttons as a projection screen rolled out from the ceiling, a projector starting to whirl from behind them. “Is there a particular show or movie that you prefer?”

“Can we watch Secret Life of Pets? It’s funny and it’s on Netflix,” she added when his jaw clenched. “It’ll help me fall asleep.”

He perked up at that. “Is sleep good for you at this point? At some of my...parties, you’re supposed to keep the humans awake until they have finished vomiting.”

Nodding, she answered, “As long as you help me if I wake up and have to puke again, I should be fine.”

“Then I suppose I’ll just sit here and keep watch.”

She smiled as he pulled up the movie, though she really missed her parents. Lucifer was doing a great job, but he didn’t know what he was doing. Her mom knew right when she needed snuggles and gave them to her without her asking. She might be nine years old, but that didn’t mean being sick wasn’t scary. Especially when her stomach was still roiling and her throat and mouth burned....

“Are you all right, spawn?” he asked immediately, making her realize that she had started to silently cry. “Are you going to be sick again?”

She shook her head, but that’s when the sobs started. “I miss my mom,” she whispered between savage breaths. “She always strokes my hair so I can fall asleep.”

While she got control of herself, Trixie felt him leave the couch for a minute, making her feel even more alone. He was really trying, but he didn’t know what to do, and her mom didn’t have to ask her how to take care of her, and she wasn’t left alone to cry--

Hands gently pulled her off the throw pillow she’d been using, only to deposit her head on sweatpants-clad thighs. She tilted her head back to see Lucifer wearing a bright green T-shirt and gray sweatpants (they still had a tag on them). “I needed to change in case you don’t make it to the bucket,” he explained easily, reaching over for the remote once again. “Now, lay back; I’ll attempt to stroke your hair, but you may need to direct me.”

Shocked, Trixie did as he said without a word, feeling his hand gently rest on her head.

She fell asleep to the sound of the elevator dinging.

This will be getting a part two shortly because it is getting very long! That will be Deckerstar though. :)

#halfbloodfox #trixie decker & lucifer morningstar #family fluff #trixie espinoza #trixie decker #lucifer morningstar #lucifer on netflix #step devil fanfiction #lucifer prompts

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