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#but i got sick when i was working there last winter
sleepyjuniper · 6 months
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Y'know what. I'm going to wear a mask on Black Friday. Just to send a message
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rohirric-hunter · 5 months
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mickyschumacher · 5 months
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Can we have a part two of baby fever?
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: pregnant with charles' baby, in a surprise turn of events, he's been able to keep his hands off of you. but just how long does that restraint last when he's faced with a problem: the tenderness of pregnancy? or in which, charles is struck yet again with the case of baby fever. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: established relationship, 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it if u don't want dem babies), breeding kink (although atp idk), lactation kink, mutual orgasms, pussy eating, again pussy rubbing(?), cumming inside, reader is sensitive as shit again, poor interpretation of pregnancy terminology, fluff at the start and towards the end, minimal use of french endearments, a criminal minds reference from yours truly <3
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: everyone wanted another one! sooooo here it is! i wasn't sure whether to do this during or after pregnancy but i ended up choosing the former. hope you like it ♡︎ see you lot next year :)
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
You knew the exact day, hour, minute, and second the two lines on that test appeared and confirmed the wish you and Charles had been waiting for. But what got you there... now that was a mystery. It was like finding that one specific good needle in a stack of needles.
Ever since your boyfriend had mentioned children to you, you and Charles have spent more time acting like animals in heat. It was lewd, obscene, sometimes immoral given the places it happened, but God was it hot.
You were currently coming towards the end of your second trimester. Your baby bump wasn't visible to the naked eye when you wore clothes but no one would also deny that you were pregnant. Apparently, your baby girl (yes a girl, the already doting Charles couldn't be more thrilled) was the size of a banana.
Besides feeling sick, having odd cravings, and being unusually hormonal, you were heavily preparing for your due date. Honestly, you didn't need to prepare that much. Charles had been working on it himself with both of your families so you didn't feel stress. And as sweet as it was, you couldn't help it. You were having a baby for Christ's sake. This wasn't a paper you thought you could wing the night before.
Your eyes strained at the pile of pregnancy books Mama Leclerc had brought you, all new and updated with the times... her words not yours.
You liked to read. It was your favourite pastime. But this... this wasn't particularly enjoyable. Scary, if anything. How on earth did people get anything done with this much information? You have to have enough iron to prevent defects to the baby but not too much otherwise you could still harm the baby?
Huh?
You blinked and shook your head. Your eyes reverted to the also busy (reading) bee sat on the couch. You smiled softly at the sight of Charles. It was winter. The sun was still making it's visits but it was cold enough to put on the heater in the early evening. Charles wrapped up in that one cream knit sweater you brought him with his glasses and book five on parenting tips made you all warm on the inside.
You quietly walked over to him, pulling the book gently from his hands. "What are you thinking of, amour?" You queried, slowly removing his glasses from his face and resting them with the book on the coffee table.
Charles smiled at your presence, opening his arms so you could sit on his lap. His one hand automatically came to your stomach, rubbing your bump like he had been ever since he saw those two lines. The other held your waist, knowing very well your back had been getting sore without doing anything but walking.
He hummed in thought. "I was thinking about when exactly I got you pregnant. Was it the morning in the hotel room in the end of year party in Abu Dhabi? Or in the bathroom on the ride from Qatar to Texas? Italy, maybe? The wine was really good that night."
You gasped at his words, smacking him lightly on his arm. "You animal... and here I was thinking you were being all sweet, reading about parenting."
Charles grinned, blues eyes twinkling at you. "Hey, I have to tell our princess one day where she came from. And it won't be a stork. Maybe I'll say in my driving room in Japan."
Your mouth dropped in shock at the nonchalant shrug you received from Charles. You pushed yourself out of his arms. "Charles!" You practically screeched in horror, making a wave of laughter fall from his lips.
His arms quickly reached towards you, pulling you closer as your warmth was just beginning to disappear. "I'm kidding... mostly," Charles mumbled, smiling at your small glare.
You rolled your eyes, looking at Charles with sarcastic gaze before you narrowed it. "Also 'princess?' What about me?" You pouted.
Charles chuckled softly, holding you tighter. "You're still my princess, amour. But when our little girl comes, you'll be my queen."
You blinked, trying to suppress the cringe and embarrassment. "I'm going to go pretend to throw up because I'm pregnant and not because of you. But I'll find it endearing some other day... in the far, far future.
Charles sighed, shaking his head. "You're a menace."
You gaped at him. "I'm a menace. That's rich coming from you. Weren't you the one who was just thinking about which place we screwed each other to have this child?"
Charles winced, putting his forehead on your shoulder. "Well, when you say it like that..." He grimaced. Sucking in a sharp breath, he decided to change subjects. "How does brunch sound?"
Your ears perked up and your eyes squinted with a sudden happiness. "I'm cooking," Charles told you. You dropped your smile. "It sounds awful..."
━━━━━━━━━━━
After teasing Charles for his cooking, you did end up having lunch. Charles, who was initially terrible at making any morsel of food, had found his talent in making pregnancy food.
Even though Charles lacked knowledge about food, ever since you found out you were pregnant, he had made sure every single thing you ate was edible for you and your little girl.
It was amusing to be honest.
You had joined Lorenzo and the others for dinner at a restaurant and the moment a wine bottle landed on the table, Charles pushed the bottle away from you as far as he could, fearing even the mere particles of wine you could breathe in would affect you.
As entertaining as it was, it was sweet. You knew that Charles naturally had a fear of being a bad father. His own father was the kindest soul he had ever met, his role model. Living up to that was going to be difficult. Furthermore, he still wanted to maintain a high standard while racing. Similar to that of Sebastian. But even Seb had ended up taking some time off to spend with his kids.
"What's with the face?" Charles queried, eyeing from the kitchen as he finished drying the last plate.
You blinked out of your trance. A tired sigh fell from your lips. "My boobs."
The plate in Charles' hands almost fell. Charles' head snapped towards you. "I... your... what?" He spluttered, putting down the plate gently before walking over to you.
You smiled softly at his confusion. You were about to speak up but Charles suddenly jutted out his hands. "No, wait! Don't tell me. I've got this. I read now."
The comment elicited a small laugh from your chest. Nodding, you waited patiently as he pondered around you.
"Okay... boobs... uh, this is great. I actually can't stop picturing your boobs now." Charles gave you a pointed look. You raised your hands in your defence, signalling him that this wasn't your problem. Your boyfriend fell into thought again, trying to think back to all the books he had been reading. Was it chapter three or six? It wasn't exactly breastfeeding...
"Ah!" Charles clapped his hand, dragging a seat from the table to sit in front of you. "Lactation! Tender breasts. While the tenderness tends to be less during the second trimester... uh, what was it? The... the lactation, yes, the lactation may cause more discomfort instead."
You watched Charles delve into an explanation about the biology behind it as if he was Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds. Another side of him you were discovering through this pregnancy. Charles didn't retain much information unless it was about you or racing, but if it was related to pregnancy, little did you know, he would eventually become a wikipedia.
You blinked slowly. "So are you going to help?" You asked, cutting him off abruptly.
Charles paused at your words. He raised his brows. "Help you?" He enunciated each word clearly.
You nodded, leaning back into your chair. "I thought you were going clean me up," You whispered in a way that had Charles' cock jumping again. "Something about massaging my breasts."
Charles' mouth felt dry. "I did say that..." He trailed off before letting out a groan. "Ah, ma chérie, why would you say that? I–fuck. You know how I feel about this."
You leaned over, putting a hand over his knee. "Charles, the doctor said it's fine."
Charles felt strongly about your breasts during your pregnancy. They were bigger, heavier and fuller. It turned him on more than he imagined it to. But as much as he was waiting for you to lactate, Charles also felt strongly about not hurting you. 'Cleaning' you up would only make him want to have sex and he was terrified about hurting you or the baby.
"I know..." Charles murmured, sucking in a sharp breath. Your doctor who remained professional to the end when you asked whether you could have sex (much to Charles' embarrassment and joy) cleared you for it. Actually, they encouraged it, saying it was good and healthy for the both of you.
Yet, Charles couldn't help be worried. So much to the point where you hadn't had sex for well over fifteen weeks.
"I mean if you seriously don't want to," You told him, retracting your hand. "It's okay."
Charles quickly took your hand back with his own. "No, I want to. Seriously, you have no idea how much I want to," He said with his voice thick, sending a familiar tingle between your thighs. "I just..." He sighed, "You'd tell me if I hurt you, right?"
Your eyes softened. Squeezing his hand gently, you used the other to caress his face. You gave a firm nod. "In a heartbeat," You promised.
Charles smiled lightly. With your hand in his, he stood up. "Let's go to the bedroom, hmm?"
━━━━━━━━━━━
After taking off your underwear, Charles let out a low breath as he peeled off your shirt to see your bare breasts in front of him. He'd seen them when you got ready in the morning, it drove him crazy, but his fear always got to him first.
Looking at them like this, so close to him, it reminded him of the first time you had sex. Except, your breasts weren't showing such obvious signs of pregnancy: so full, almost two cup sizes bigger.
Charles pressed his lips together tightly, eyes glued to your breasts before flickering down to your stomach. He could see the bump a lot more clearly now that it was bare. The sight of it made him happy in far too many ways. It was like he was a teenager all over again. He wasn't sure what to do first.
Slowly, you encouraged him, silently bringing his hand over to your breasts.
A shaky breath fell from his mouth as a sudden surge of warmth came in contact with his hand. He moved his eyes to you, testing the waters by moving his thumb over your nipple. By your hitched breath and your suddenly dazed eyes, Charles could tell you were sensitive and completely fine. But he needed your words.
Bringing his other hand to your face, his thumb trailed of your lips. "Are you okay?" He softly asked, still grazing over your nipple.
"Charles," You let out a strained sigh, "If you don't move your fucking hand or do something, I will move it for you."
Yup, you were okay.
Charles chuckled quietly. His teeth sunk into his lips upon feeling a slight wetness at the pad of his thumb. He gulped at the white milk falling out of your nipple.
You eagerly watched Charles' head duck closer towards your breasts, mouth opening to wrap his lips around your milk covered nipple. A long whine fell from your mouth, head digging into your mattress. Your hand travelled up his neck and into his hair, eliciting a grunt from Charles as you pushed yourself further into his touch.
The taste on Charles' tongue was unlike anything he had ever tasted (well that he remembered of). It was sweet and creamy, coating his mouth ever so smoothly. It was a strange yet satisfying thought to think that while your body had made the milk, a part of him had participated in it. Technically, he had also made it. "Fuck," He hissed against your breast, realising your milk was far too addictive.
You let out another moan, tightening your grip on Charles' hair, feeling the grasp of his other hand on your other breast, twisting your pebbled nipple as he sucked on the other.
Your pussy was fully drenched, sensitive to any touch you received from Charles. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to relieve the creeping arousal that was intoxicating you.
Charles grunted, short breaths falling from his lips as he parted from your nipples. You whimpered at the sight of him licking the white liquid from his lips. The look in his blue eyes was surreal; crazed like a monster that wouldn't be satiated until he had entirely devoured you.
He brought his lips to yours, bringing you into a heated sloppy kiss. Your mouth moved against his, the taste of your own milk entering your tastebuds while your skin burned at his touch. Charles' breaths were heavy, chest rising up and down rapidly. "You taste that, princess?" He queried, lips lazily falling down your jaw. "You taste so fucking good," He rasped.
"Charles," You moaned out, hips jerking up at every tug on your nipple against a race of desperation.
"I know, baby, I know," Charles murmured with slight disbelief. He couldn't wrap his head around how sensitive you were. You were squirming and aching for his touch just by the touch of your nipples. His cock throbbed as his mind wandered just how you'd react to his cock or his tongue against your drenched folds.
Reluctantly, Charles moved his mouth away from your breasts, still keeping his hands on them, groping and teasing you with no mercy. Arriving to your pussy, he bit down on his swollen lips, uttering out a string of curses under his breath. He knew you were wet but not this wet. You had made a mess... the bed sheets were sported damp spots while your inner thighs were glazed with your arousal, ready to be eaten.
An apology quickly flew from his lips, making you furrow your brows. "For leaving you untouched," He murmured, hot breath dancing across your thighs yet cool to your burning folds. "Amour, I'm going to make up for it. Every fucking day," He promised.
Your stomach churned at his words while you drew in a deep breath. Christ. "I'm holding you to that promise, Cha," You whispered lightly, growing antsy with every passing second.
Charles grinned shamelessly against your thigh. "I should start now then, hmm?" He baited you by leaving soft kisses against your ample flesh, nose just skimming your pussy. He couldn't help but smile at the sudden gasp fallen from your reddened lips and jerk of your hips. You were clenching around nothing.
Your head dug into the mattress of your bed as Charles placed his mouth against your pussy, flattening his tongue and taking a long stripe of your warm folds. He sucked on every part of your pussy, darting his tongue on every crevice so naturally as if he had committed it to memory.
Your mewls that had turned into pure blubbers. You were sure you weren't making any sense. All that you knew was that Charles was eating you like he was tasting you for the first time, barely coming out for a breath while his nose rubbed against your clit, lapping at you like some sort of animal and it felt fucking phenomenal.
Charles' cock was uncomfortably and impossibly tight against his pants. He was struggling between continuing to eat you out because you tasted so good and prepping you for his cock. He was desperate to feel your walls again.
Your blubbers were now high pitched gasps upon feeling Charles' tongue drag to your clit, nibbling and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves as he propped one finger into your walls. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten. "Fuck, Charles," You moaned, hips jerking up to get even more stimulation while your eyes were clamped shut.
Charles grunted against your pussy, feeling your toes curl while he thrusted his finger out of you. God, you were even tight around his single finger. He couldn't help but wonder how you were going to give birth. His eyes darted up to your face, watching your back arch, exposing your leaking breasts to more air while your breath quivered. He could tell you were close.
Charles promised he'd be gentle. But he never promised he'd be kind.
Your eyes snapped open at the sudden loss of Charles' touch and the quickly distancing euphoria. You whined in annoyance. Even now, Charles was a menace.
"I know, princess. I'm sorry. Fuck, I just need to be in you, hmm?" Charles mumbled in a hurry, moving his body up and scrambling to remove his boxers. If he kept lapping at you like the animal he was, he was sure he was going to cum just like that.
If this was any other circumstance, you were sure you would be cursing at Charles in French. But taking a look at his throbbing cock, standing strong and hard in all it's glory... it took the words right of your mouth and had sent all the feelings straight to your pussy. In fact, you were even patient in the mere seconds it took Charles to adjust himself over you, revelling in his dazed hooded eyes, the blown pupils and his sweat-glittered skin.
Charles place the finger he had put inside you on your lips, gesturing for you to suck your arousal off. Without any objection, you parted your swollen lips and took a slow and long stripe of his finger, tasting yourself on your tongue. A guttural groan came from his mouth. Any second longer...
You sucked in a sharp breath when Charles let his bubbling saliva slowly fall from his mouth and onto the aching tip of his cock, rubbing the natural lube up and down his shaft. Shifting his hips a bit, the both of you let out a low blow upon the feeling of his flushed cock on your puffy folds.
Charles hovered over your body, placing his swollen lips on your leaking breast, savouring the sweet taste of your milk while letting his cock rub against your engorged pussy. He could hear your soft whimpers, loud enough for the entire room to reverberate off its walls. A rippling tremble surged through his body as he rocked his cock against your folds, feeling your wetness soak mix with his saliva and coat him entirely.
"Charles," You mewled, "Keep teasing and you won't feel this pussy again I promise."
The threat you made was empty and weak. The both of you knew it. Yet, the mere possibility or even the thought made Charles quickly but carefully push his cock into your pussy. He grunted at the feeling of your walls around his cock slowly welcoming you. Shit... You were tighter around his cock than his finger, already clenching around him.
"Merde," Charles swore. "You feel so good, princess."
Your hands fell around his neck, loosely holding him to you as his cock stretch you out. You could tell he wasn't as deep as he usually was with the baby taking up more space but when combined with your pregnant sensitivity, it left you more flustered and blazing than ever.
"Are you okay?" Charles managed to grit out.
You gave him a rushed nod. "Move... please," You begged, struggling to keep your eyes open.
Charles' hips began to move faster at your command, rutting at such as speed that pushed his aching cock against your walls, lost in the pleasure your brought by gripping him like a vice. His eyes fell to your mouth. Your moans and whines looked as though they were going to burst out of you. Bringing his puffy lips to yours, he swallowed all your angelic and sinful sounds into his body like he was consuming your very essence.
His hand travelled to your hips before trailing to your bump. The things this baby had done to him before even confirming those two lines was beyond Charles. Pulling away from your lips, he almost faltered when he saw your face.
God, you were just so... beautiful. Your flushed face, lust-ridden eyes, sweat-ridden hair moving in all sorts of directions, skin even stained with his marks of love he had made unknowingly... all with that pregnancy glow... beautiful.
"I love you, ma chérie," He whispered out. "You're going to be the most wonderful and gorgeous mother in the entire universe. Our baby is going to be the luckiest child."
Tears pricked at your eyes as the pleasure still coursed through you. The coil in your stomach was coming to a breaking point while broken sobs came out of your mouth. Fuck, you couldn't even tell what you wanted anymore. Your hand reached out to Charles' face, feeling the small hairs on his face as you caressed him. "And you're the only person I would ever want with me... the only person who could be the father of my... our children."
Charles let out a faint high pitched moan. His hand moved to your abandoned clit, starting his abuse on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a silent gasp while he chased both of your climaxes, his twitching cock snapping into you. Everything around you began to blur while your orgasm hit you in big waves as his hips stuttered against you, spilling ropes and ropes of his warm, white cum into your walls.
Your body convulsed as Charles continued to rub your clit, taking advantage of your sensitive state almost selfishly just so he could see you completely space it out in the ecstasy of it all. You let out a soft cry, pussy clenching around him to take every last drop of his cum you could get as the last few waves of his orgasm shot through him.
Charles sighed, wincing softly while taking his cock out of you, making sure to fall down next to you instead of over you like he usually did. His sweaty arm brought you in closer to him, baby bump grazing his cock. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead he smiled down at your tired state. "I should clean you up more often, hmm, princess?"
You managed to roll your eyes, hitting him weakly in his arm. "You are awful."
Charles grinned, popping his dimples out at you. He nodded casually. "Yeah... but you love me," He teased.
You suppressed another eye roll and simply smiled, slowly succumbing to the heavy weight on your eyes. A yawn fell from your lips. "I do. I love you... a lot."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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luveline · 18 days
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HI MLLLL! I absolutely loved your fainting fic with James! Can you write like a part a part 2 or like a follow up where reader starts realizing that James isn’t as bad as she thought and she falls for him as he takes care of her bc he’s really worried? I love them sm 🥹
James takes care of you when you faint
James is acting weirder than usual… sort of… nice? fem, 1.2k
The days after you faint are just as hot, but you come into work. You can’t afford to miss it, and it’s not as though you’ll make the same mistake twice. 
The memory of what happened is hazy at the start. James had just opened the window, the breeze that filtered in cooling your hot skin. You’d felt sick, you’d tried to stand, and your head had gone blank. 
You woke with your face in James’ hand. You can remember it if you think about it enough, his head tilted down toward you, the sunshine on his skin, his soft smile. He’d felt like a different person. 
You’d felt different. 
“Can you send me that information from the lab, please?” 
You glance away from your computer, eyes tired. “Sorry?” 
“For the, uh, Mr. Nguyen?” James asks. “You didn’t send them to me. I can’t do them if you don’t send them.” 
“Right.” You blink away the phantom of his hand on your cheek. “Okay.” 
“Are you feeling alright?” 
That’s all he asks. Every day since you passed out, at various times and in various ways. Are you okay? Are you alright? Is it too hot in here? Do you want to swap desks with me? That last one had been a little patronising. You’d told him to leave you alone. Your desk is right next to the radiator in winter, it’s prime real estate, and you’re not giving it up just because you got a bit hot. 
“I’m fine,” you murmur, turning back to your computer to open outlook. “Just thinking.” 
“About what?” 
“About you not talking to me.” 
“Funny.” 
You drag and drop the paperwork for the tests he’d wanted. It’s easy to render an invoice but you hate doing it because it involves a lot of talking back and forth with clients. James, on the other hand, loves to talk. 
“There, sent it,” you say.
“Thank you.” 
Awkward. You pretend to be busier than you are for a few minutes, stealing company time without remorse. James types up an email beside you, the click of his keys quick and loud in your ears. 
Remus pops a pen lid across the way, scribbling onto a post it note that he sticks on his monitor. You know what time it is from the sounds alone. A half a minute later, Sirius slinks up from the front of the office to wrap his arm around Remus’ shoulders, sing-songing, “You’re coming with me, handsome.” 
“Are you coming?” Remus asks James. 
There’s a lapse of quiet. You stare at your computer, aware of a silent conversation, but not privy to its content. “I think I’ll stay,” James says eventually. 
“Okie dokie. Y/N, do you want to come, lovely?” Remus asks. “It’s not too hot.” 
“I’m fine,” you say, “thanks. Thank you.” 
You don’t feel like yourself since you fainted. You’d hoped it would go away once you had a better night’s sleep, flooded your system with cold water and good food, but you can’t kick it. You have no energy, no want to do more than turn up for work and go home again, and you know what it is that’s making you feel this way, but you can’t admit it to yourself. It crops up in your mind unbidden and you push it back down. 
“Sirius never used to act like that.” 
“What?” 
“Sirius. He was never like that when we were growing up. Love makes him pathetic.” 
Love is a tender touch. Sirius had laid his arm over Remus’ shoulder without any hug or kiss, but it was as loving as either. To touch someone like they need a kind hand. 
Like James had held your face. His arm behind your back as he led you to the break room. 
“Do you wanna come with me?” James asks. 
You hold in a second confused, What? He’s standing now, you hadn’t noticed him moving, his water bottle in hand as he pushes his chair back under the desk. 
“Don’t wanna leave you here and have you smash your head in when there’s no one around. Imagine the clean up.” 
You get up on impulse. You grab your drink, and the back of your chair, and you stand there wondering if you’re about to be dizzy again. Your chest feels tight, but that weight of unconsciousness doesn’t come. 
“Hey,” James says. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re not like you today.” 
There’s a softness in his voice you can’t believe. “Can I eat lunch with you?” 
You wish that you said it to avoid the question. James wrinkles his nose, your heart drops into the pit of your stomach, but then he says, “I just invited you first.” 
“I… have to get my stuff from the fridge.”
“Me too.”
You walk slowly, worried it’s a joke, another stupid joke, but James comes up behind you and his hand graces your shoulder with the barest pressure. You can smell something sweet and warm on him, like jojoba oil. Maybe argan. “Sure you’re okay? You look peaky. Is it the heat?” he murmurs.
“It’s supposed to rain tonight.” 
“You can’t answer anything, can you?” James laughs with a vocal fry that goes straight to your chest. “I could ask you how many fingers you’d have and you’d tell me you have two hands.” 
James walks with you to the kitchen, where you gather your food and warm it in the microwave. He leads you to the break room, and makes sure to choose a table with enough space for you, even while people he’s friendly with beckon him forward. They look at you with unashamed curiosity, but James pretends not to notice so you do too. 
You’re expecting a joke. Aw, look, we’re finally on a date. Or Wow, you know how to use a spoon, I had no idea you were so dexterous. 
“Did you see they’re making a new movie about those aliens? The ones who can hear you everywhere you go?” 
You squeeze your spoon. “Uh, no, I didn’t see it.” 
“It looks awesome. I’ll show you the trailer on my computer after lunch, it looks just as good as the first two. That actress, the one with the really nice eyes is in it.” 
You have no idea who he means. James talks to you like a friend. He offers you some of his papris and he passes you a napkin from his pocket when you get food on your hands. James Potter might actually be a really nice guy. All it took was for you to garner his pity for him to show it. How pathetic you must seem to need it. 
“How do you feel now?” he asks as you clip the lid back onto your Tupperware. “You look better. Do you feel better?” 
“I’m fine, James.” 
“You frown so much I can’t tell.” He butts his knee against yours. “Alright, batten the hatches, I’m gonna carry you back to your desk.” 
“Why?” you ask in a rush. 
“Can’t fall if you don’t walk.” 
“James, don’t try it. I’m serious.” 
“You don’t sound serious. You sound like you want me to carry you.” 
“I’ll report you to Human Resources.” 
“For what? Being helpful?” 
“Harassment.” 
“Fine, but I’m not gonna catch you this time.” 
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hitomisuzuya · 9 months
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Hi could you do a smut , dom!pussydrunk scara, where reader is wearing fishnets and he just rips them open
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cunilligus. Degradation. Pussy drunk Scara with a tongue piercing. Dom!Scara
This request😳 also as promised, rest assured, Roma is feeling better. She is curled up next to me asleep as I type this. Probably dreaming about getting in the trash no doubt.
Scaramouche almost couldn't stand how hard his cock was getting. He was practically drooling as he watched you bend down to pick something up that you dropped. That gave him an extra nice view of your legs in those fishnet stockings.
It was starting to drive him almost insane with lust. How dare you wear something like that in front of him? He couldn't get enough of it.
The only warning that Scaramouche gave you that he was going to toss you down onto the bed was a hand on your hip. You suddenly flung backwards, landing with a soft 'omph' on the bed. "Sc-Scara? What was the for?" You protested, you swore your heart stopped in your chest when you saw the dark look of lust pooling in his beautiful eyes.
Followed the sound of your tights ripping between your legs.
"Be quiet," Scaramouche hissed, groaning when he felt how wet you were once he pushed your panties aside. "You put yourself on a silver platter to me wearing these fishnets, now I am going to enjoy my meal," He promptly peeled your panties off and spread your legs, making the hole between your legs bigger.
You looked down at it with a momentary look of horror. "I'll buy you new ones, but I probably tear the shit out of those to," Scaramouche would foot the bill for a new pair every time just so he could devour you like this in them.
Spreading the lips of your cunt, his tongue flicked out to kitten lick your clit. He groaned like you were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. He spent a few long moments licking up and down your cunt, swirling his tongue around your clit.
You let out a strangled cry of pleasure. The way his tongue piercing scrapped across your clit made it throb. Scaramouche shivered in utter bliss before he plunged his tongue inside of you.
His hands found your hips, holding your cunt against his mouth. He ate you out like a starved mutt and you were his last meal before winter made food almost impossible to find.
Every lick and lap of his tongue made you feel wetter. You feebly bucked your hips up into his mouth, making his tongue feel somehow more greedy than it already did.
Scaramouche took great care to nurse his piercing against the most sensitive parts of you so he could relish in the way your body seized up in pleasure. The way your legs shook and trembled when he pressed it against your clit when he sucked made his eyes roll in the back of his head.
In his blissed out state, he suddenly noticed something. His eyes narrowed into a glare, working his tongue piercing on your clit again. "Why are you holding yourself back?" He demanded, growling as he latched his lips onto your clit.
"Yo-you told me to-ahh-be quiet," You whimpered. Your hands shook. Putting them on his head, you tugged on his hair, pushing his mouth down onto your cunt. His mouth felt so good you could hardly speak.
Scaramouche laughed, rumbling it across your clit. "What an obedient slut. You aren't cumming until you moan for me," His fingers tightened on your hips to remind you of your place.
He hooked his finger through one of the holes in your fishnets, letting smack back against your leg before sweeping his tongue back inside of you.
You couldn't hold yourself back then. The way his tongue piercing was scrapping between your walls was starting to make you see stars. Your walls clamped tight around his tongue. His sucks on your clit were insatiable.
Scaramouche wanted more and more from you. He wanted you to be loud while you came undone on his tongue. It was something he never got sick of. He would eat you out all day and all night until you couldn't cum anymore, or at least you cried that you couldn't.
"Squirt all over my tongue while you scream, whore," His cock was straining harder in his jeans. Your mewls and cries of pleasure as you grasped his hair tighter as you writhed was winding him up. His tongue wasn't going to be the only thing you would beg for.
"Please, please," You pleaded, the pleasure was so intense you were even having a hard time bucking your hips into his mouth.
"Please, please," He mocked, laughing as he swirled his tongue around your clit. "You should hear how pathetic you sound. Scream my name, slut."
"Scaramouche!" You were almost breathless, your orgasm threatening to snap apart.
"What a good slut I have," He purred, tapping his fingers on your hips, teasing his piercing on your clit. "You know what to say next if you want to cum."
"Master!" You screamed, earning you a husky groan of bliss against your cunt. He plunged his tongue back inside of you just in time to taste you squirting on his tongue.
To say this man slurped up your release was an understatement. His tongue was ravenous. You could barely breathe when he crawled on top of you to kiss you just as sloppily as he had eaten you out.
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ed-wwarren · 1 year
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When Ed said he loved sports that might have been an understatement. For him, there were three things in life and they were God, fixing cars, and sports. Not necessarily in that order. Growing up, he didn’t have the easiest home life. His father, the asshole, was verbally abusive and liked to dabble in the physical abuse when he got drunk so his mother, the angel, would make sure Ed was out of the house as much as she could.
So, when he wasn’t at school or working at the local theater, he was volunteering at church, at practices and games, or fixing people’s cars for free just for the fun of it.
But while he was still in high school, he was going to live up the sports. He would be able to work a job, volunteer at church, and fix cars the rest of his life but he knew after high school, sports were over so he dedicated a lot of his time to that. He was smart but didn’t have a desire to go to university so this was it for him. His senior year.
He had a sport for every season too. In the fall, he was a football guy. In the winter, he was all about the swim meets, and in the spring he was always outside playing baseball.
The funny thing about it though, he didn’t consider himself to be a jock. He understood what the word meant and he knew that’s what the whole school would refer to him as, but he didn’t think he fit into that stereotype. He had friends that absolutely did but they weren’t his close friends. Especially not the jocks who acted like jocks. The ones that would bully other kids or just be arrogant assholes. It made him sick.
School was already underway and it was getting towards the end of winter which meant there were only going to be a few more swim meets before they got into the spring and started baseball. Ed was at his locker getting books for his next class when he saw Natalie, one of the cheerleaders, making her way over to him. He sighed and stuck his head back in his locker pretending to be looking for a book. He was not the biggest fan of this girl. She was constantly hitting on different guys at the school and when one wouldn’t pay her any attention or she got bored, she would moved onto the next. It never ended.
“Hey, Ed,” Natalie cooed with a grin, moving close to him. “I can’t wait to see you at the swim meet today,” She said slowly, her eyes traveling bluntly down to his crotch. What she meant to say was, she couldn’t wait to see him in the tiny speedo they had to wear.
Ed slowly looked over at her and gave her a small smile. “Hey. Yeah, it’ll be umm…kind of weird. It’s my last one ever.”
“Oh,” Natalie said with a pout. “Well, I’ll be cheering for you. I hope it’s a good one.”
As she walked away, she brushed her hand along his arm and grinned. It made Ed shiver but not in a good way.
@giftedclairvoyance
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plantcomic · 3 months
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Hello again, got the "being sick" part of the winter done hahaaahh, I'm a little bit late.
This update has a couple of spells, translations and little notes for those under read more. See you in a month again I guess, thanks for reading!
Bond with alder - spell
The red leaf of alder The slender finger of alder Strong is the power in your bark The anger of the woods in your curves
I sing you the song of fae, of milk hay's, of soil's child of May's child, of the spell maker of the bringer of golden spring
Give me a day, the time of one leaf The hazy time of the sun. Golden red from your treetop, one bend from your annual rings. A moment from inside your roots A moment from the deep waters.
Notes: Alder is known as "fae tree" in old beliefs, it has an innate connection to the väki of the woods. I was initially going to let Varpu call themselves "voikukka" (dandelion) here, but they might reserve it only for their favourite trees :) So there's a couple of older words for the same flower (mayflower and milkhay were some among many, many others. Dandelion was closely linked to agriculture and for cows especially, the finnish current name voikukka still literally means "butter flower".
Situational bond-breaking spell
Human flame, son of Ukko Leave us, this circle. For you the sunny morning, For us, the eternal evening.
Notes: Flame is a nod to the three-faceted soul thing, I've probably mentioned when bonding spells were last in the comic. It's a placeholder for löyly, which could've worked also, but I think I used fire imaginary in the original spell haha. Ukko is an ancient rain god, later renamed as a thunder god, but his reign and relationship to humans has been a bit different for other nordic-baltic sky gods. Here's it's just another nod for humans being Of Sky while fae is Of Soil.
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atinystraynstay · 5 months
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In Sickness and In Health - Choi Seungcheol
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Synopsis: Being an only child, you were accustomed to taking care of yourself. It almost pained you asking for help from others. When Seungcheol noticed you are sick, he was quick to step up to the plate to offer his help. As stubborn as you might be, he found you to be the most adorable person alive.
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem reader
Genre: Fluffffffff, sweet considerate Seungcheol to warm the heart on the coldest of winter days
Word Count: 1.2k
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You were curled up on your couch, two blankets covering your body. You woke up this morning congested as ever. You tried running yourself a warm shower when you had to get up for work, but to no avail, you felt worse. You were forced to resign to the fact you were going to have to call in sick for work.
It also meant that you had to cancel your plans with your boyfriend, Choi Seungcheol. The two of you were supposed to go out this evening on a date. He had bought tickets to a musical you've been wanting to see. With your weakened state and the cold temperatures outside, you knew you were just asking to remain being sick. And you were determined that you were going back to work tomorrow.
"Are you sure you don't want me to bring over anything?" "Yeah, Cheol, I'm positive but thank you ☹️ the last thing I want is to get you sick." "Alright, my love. I love you."
The perk of living alone was the fact you didn't have to be confined to your room. You didn't have to worry about anyone else catching whatever virus you got. On the other hand, you didn't have much motivation to move anywhere else. The moment you got yourself situated on your couch, you knew the chances of you getting up were very slim.
Used tissues were scattered all over your living room floor, especially by the couch. You had a cup of half-empty tea on a coaster on your coffee table. The thermometer on stand by for when you were ready to check it again. You felt absolutely awful. Your bones ached and your body felt cold, hence why you trying to get warm with the two blankets. You also had a heating pad underneath you to warm up your back, trying to spread warmth throughout your entire body. Nothing seemed to help.
Some sitcom was playing in the background which you were half paying attention to. Your mind was bouncing between you phone and the TV, not really having much energy to do anything else.
This was not how you envisioned your weekend. You were very much looking forward to spending time with your boyfriend. You two have been trying to find time to meet up, but something always came up. Whether it was Seungcheol being needed at the company as he was trying to get back into the regularity of his idol lifestyle, or it might have been a meeting for work on your end. This was the first weekend in a considerable amount of days that you were both free.
Or at least you were free until you got sick. And the last thing Seungcheol could afford right now was a delay in him getting back to what he loves most. Though arguably, he would say he loved you more than performing. You knew deep down that Seungcheol had been waiting for the all-clear to resume activity.
Life is so unfair.
You sunk a bit deeper into the couch. You couldn't help but sulk. There was nothing more that you wanted than to be wrapped up in the arms of your lover. Or maybe have a bowl of warm soup.
Suddenly, you heard the sound of what you believed was your front door unlocking. Or someone trying to get in from the other side of the door.
Your heart rate picked up as you quickly looked over towards the door. In your weakened state, you were trying to get up as quickly as possible. You weren't expecting anyone nor did you order anything that would be delivered.
The last thing you need right now is someone breaking into your apartment. How could you even defend yourself? Throw your used tissue balls at them?
"Woah, woah, honey, sit down."
You instantly froze from trying to flee from the living room. You recognized that voice anywhere. You slowly eased down onto the couch as you looked over.
Slowly, you looked back over to confirm your suspicion. Choi Seungcheol. He stood with a plastic bag in one hand, the other holding the golden key to your apartment unit. You pouted as you looked at him. Yet, he looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
Your heart was slowing down as you eased yourself to sit up. Cheol couldn't help but laugh a little at the scare he gave you. You whined in response, crossing your arms over your chest.
"You don't think a text would have been a good idea?" "And ruin the surprise?" He asked, a playful smirk on his lips.
Watching from the couch, Cheol first locked the door but this time locked both locks - the top and bottom. He set the bag of mystery items down on the front table before slipping off his shoes. You always loved Seungcheol's visits, but not today.
He began to make his way into your apartment but froze as he saw you move slightly. Instantly, he frowned at the sight which nearly broke your heart. Your boyfriend was always filled with gold intentions, but you couldn't risk getting him sick.
"Baby, I told you I didn't need anything. Why are you here?" You frowned. "And be labeled as worst boyfriend of the year for leaving my sick partner at home alone? Yeah, no thanks. Besides, I see the makeshift bed you made," he commented, gesturing towards the couch. "Can't get warm?"
You sighed in defeat. There was no use in arguing with Cheol because he was right. You were struggling to keep warm despite being under a mountain of warm blankets and a heating bad. The thought of being wrapped up in the arms of your boyfriend sounded more appealing, and could probably help you feel better. It would definitely cause an end to your sulking.
"But what about you? I don't want to get you sick."
The smile was back on Cheol's lips. He grabbed the bag before he made his way over to you. At least if you needed something, it was now in front of you on the coffee table rather than across the room.
"If I get sick, I get sick. I'd rather be sick knowing I made an attempt at helping you feel better than not trying at all."
Ever so gently, he leaned over to press a kiss to your forehead lingeringly. You closed your eyes at the feeling, a light smile curling onto your lips. You didn't even notice you were naturally leaning into his body. Almost as if you were magnetized to attract towards his body heat.
"See, you need me. Now, come here, pretty girl." Slowly, as to not cause anymore discomfort, Cheol wrapped his arms around you. Your back resting against his chest, his arms around your torso. You sighed in relief as you relaxed into his embrace. He grabbed one of the blankets, moving it onto your lap before pulling you in closer.
"Isn't this much better?" "Don't you dare tell me 'I told you so,' Choi Seungcheol."
Cheol didn't need to say anything. He only chuckled before pressing a lingering kiss into your cheek. It only caused you to melt further into him.
"Of course not, my stubborn girl. But now that I am here, we can stay here for however long you need. I did bring over cold medicine, in case you were running low. I also brought gatorade and snacks. But we can also order something if you want. Whatever you need, you got it already."
Okay, maybe it's not so bad having your partner around when you are sick.
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Note: Hi! Thanks for taking the time to read 🩷 this week I've been a bit MIA since coming down with a head cold. I think that's what I get for working with kids. Definitely wrote this wishing I had my own Scoups to take care of me haha
I hope you all are taking care of yourselves and staying warm
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katyawriteswhump · 6 months
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Steddie microfic: I got you
Steve loves it when Eddie rubs his chest.
Written for the December @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘pine,’ 508 words. Originally inspired by the ‘pining’ idea, then it evolved and some extra pine turned up elsewhere!
Rating: T. CW: A couple of sexual references. Tags: shameless hurt/comfort, sickfic, fluff.
***
Their first winter, Eddie got sick. Then Steve got sicker. He took to their bed with a cough that scoured his lungs, rattled his ribs. When Eddie arrived, Steve buried his damp face in the pillow. “I’m all gross. G-go away.”
“Sorry, Babe.” Eddie rolled Steve over, fingers skittering soothingly across his brow. “Kinda guilty here. You scored my germs.”
“Always g-got chest infections as a kid.” Steve shivered. “Ask my m-mom.”
“She won’t talk to me, remember?”
“Ugh. Why are my f-family shitheads?” The pang of irritation proved too much. Steve’s next breath jammed in his lungs. A coughing fit consumed him. Eddie helped him sit, rubbed his back till the worst passed. Then Eddie removed his rings—huh?—pulled the covers over them, and spooned Steve from behind.
His warm hand slid under Steve’s t-shirt. He rubbed Steve’s chest, so gently Steve hardly noticed at first.
“I gotcha, Sweetheart. I gothcha.”
Steve’s shuddering breaths fell in sync with Eddie’s caresses, beneath which painfully taut sinews softened. Steve’s chest still burned, his breaths wheezy, but… 
…Eddie’s touch got him, somewhere so deep it almost choked him again.
It became a regular thing, in sickness and health. Eddie’s guitar-string callused strokes across Steve’s chest—sometimes firm, sometimes soft—set Steve sighing, groaning, purring like a cat. He even adored the cool slide of Eddie’s rings, especially when they snagged in his hair.
One day, afterward, he littered Eddie’s agile fingers with kisses. “Wanna marry your hands.”
Eddie quirked a brow: “You got a mighty fine chest, Babe.”
Steve grinned, sent his own hands south on a far dirtier mission.
Next winter, Eddie scored a touring gig with a band who’d lost their guitarist. Steve missed him like crazy, ignored that tell-tale tickle in his throat, and went to work—peddling hotdogs in the snow. Eddie called daily around 3am, always losing track of time. Steve mainlined cough medicine and pretended so hard:
“I don’t miss your mess, man. I cleaned the shit out of this place—totally reeks of Pine-Sol.”
“Haha. Miss you too, Stevie.”
“Riiight. If you blow the drummer, I’ll repave the drive with your vinyl collection.”
Steve got sicker. The pine stench of the stupid polish caught on his chest. He coughed himself raw. That night, Eddie didn’t call.
Or, Steve didn’t hear.
When he woke, he tried to sit. Flopped back down. He was shivering, out of water, and coughed till tears streaked his face and blood spattered his hand. Scared now... He drifted, never quite sleeping, coughing less, instead struggling to drag whistling breaths. His bones ached. His head ached worse. Freakin’ terrified…
A gentle touch revived him: “Babe?”
He blinked. Eddie? 
“You didn’t answer last night. Caught the first flight home.” Seriously? “Do I need to take you to ER?”
“No,” wheezed Steve.
“Don’t be macho, dude.”
“Need c-cuddle.” That ‘not macho’ enough, Honeypie? 
Steve was too sick for decisions, so let Eddie make them. Much later, when Eddie slid into bed behind him and rested a warm hand on his chest, he knew he was mending already.
***
Thank you for reading :) Also posted on my AO3 here
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silv3rswirls · 2 months
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Hound
Summary: What did a suffering lamb even accomplish? Who did it save, when would it end? 
Warnings: serial killer/yandere jk, kidnapping, stalking, references to death, suggestive scenes, delusions, religious themes/trauma, minor description of sick/rotting bodies/animals, murder, reader goes on a weird little adventure with killer jk?? She dies at the end
Note: idk I kind of lost the original plot of this one and this is what it turned out to be. Please mind the warnings and as always, hope ya’ll like it. ALSO, I didn't have it in me to edit this, so mind that. I might come back to this
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There’s something in the corner; watching. It’s been there so long, you couldn’t remember when it invited itself in. It’s starving and sickly, black fur clinging to bones and eyes droopy and white. You stopped feeding it a long time ago, but still, it lingers. In every facet of your life, it lingers. You’ve lived like this for so many years, have you always lived like this?
What time was it?
Your eyes shifted from their fixed position on the wall to the clock, passing over the thin, gold cross mounted just beside it. Your eyes strained to read it against your bedroom's dark wood panels and dim, ugly yellow light. Whatever time it was, you knew it was time to get out of bed and start dinner before your husband got home from work. You make your way to the kitchen, the house dims now that the sun has set. You avoid flicking many lights on, it’ll save money your husband insisted. You hated fumbling around a dark house but had given up arguing with him a long time ago.
You peek through the sheer curtains, the sink running and steaming water burning your hands as you finish that morning's dishes. It was dark, and windy as the tree in your front yard shook and branches brushed against the roof. It was the cusp of winter, very cold but snow hadn’t started to fall yet. The neighborhood was quiet, street lamps harsh against the dark backdrop of houses. You stare hard outside, it's there. Standing there, watching you. That sick dog, with hackles raised and tongue hanging from its mouth. 
The curtains fall back into place as you turn the water off and dry your hands. You pass the phone, that’s been ringing for the past five minutes. You don’t answer because it's just your parents again, all they wanted was to guilt you into going to church with them on Sunday morning. They went every day, once upon a time you had gone as well, but now you could only stand to give them Sundays. Last week you had pretended to be sick to get out of it, your husband went along and you were sure he spent most of the day badmouthing and complaining about you not coming.
The last time you found yourself in a church you were standing at an altar listening to a man feed the room empty vows. You stood stiff, draped in satin, with eyes downcast. This is what everyone wanted; this is what you wanted. What a waste, as he fumbled the paper with his crudely written vows. What a waste of a man who couldn’t memorize a few short promises. What a waste of a man who couldn’t stand there and pretend to be in love with you, to dare to call himself righteous, the perfect match to keep their daughter in line with a faith you had stopped believing years ago. 
You didn’t want to get married. You had stopped liking the fantasy of having a husband years ago, and around the same time, you began to feel a sour taste over your parents' religion. What happened to you? What happened to our beautiful girl? They would ask, more so plead with you for answers. Truthfully, you had stopped believing in god. It was restricting; days to weeks to months to years. It was always the same. The same scripture, the same ravings of the pastor that drove such fear of doing anything wrong into you, leaving holes in your body that oozed with guilt and shame; you didn’t know why.
You had begged god to save you, even after all the terrible things he must’ve seen you do. Still, on the morning of your wedding and every day after that, you begged. Knelt until your knees were raw and aching, your hands clasped so tight until your nails pricked your aching skin and drew blood. You begged, for something, anything, you weren’t even sure what anymore. But nothing ever changed. When would god find time for you again? You live, you do as you’re told. You do everything you’re supposed to, and yet nothing. You live how you’re told. You grow, you work, you’re a wife. You follow and you ignore the hound scratching at your walls. You’ll die soon, you can feel it. When will he come back to you?
That night you refused to go inside, letting your feet go numb buried in snow in the backyard. Looking into the treeline, you’d rather be fed by the creatures lurking there than by some angry boy playing dog inside. You wanted to hurt him, for him to feel how you had the past year. He didn’t think you could, but you wanted to show him you would. 
But when you looked down at your trembling hands, stiff and half frozen from the cold, you knew there was no way you could show him. How you felt and how you acted were two different things; forever separate as much as you wanted them to be the same. You could talk a big game, think about how so badly you wanted to hurt him, and that was all. It had to keep being enough.
Something in you wanted more, so much more. You could rest because of it. You had stopped fighting your parents now, you were hoping things could change. Maybe you’d find peace again, though you weren’t sure how. You grew weary, tired of hating god and resenting your parents. You wanted so badly to be separate from it all. To no longer have a feeling of guilt hounding you. To no longer hate the church and everyone in it, the teachings and echoes of preaching lingering in your mind. The years you lost there; lost to fear and manipulation. How you hadn’t been able to enjoy a single thing in your adolescence. How after your first kiss you had gone home and sobbed until throwing up. As you were on your knees cleaning it up, trying to hush your cries to not wake your parents, you closed your eyes and pleaded between gasps and hiccups for god not to hate you. How you trembled and sat there until your skin was rubbed raw against the carpet, 
You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face and looking around the dark living room from the kitchen. You felt like you could see it; that creature lying on the sofa staring at you. Mouth parted, teeth pointed, its soul-bearing into your own. You turned away with the familiar feeling of guilt washing over your body. Your gaze rested on the floor, but the faint outline of shoes made your brow furrow; your husband wasn’t due home for another hour. Very slowly you pick your gaze up to see the man standing in the hall. Faint light from the open backdoor pooled in behind him. You stared at the young man longer than probably should have. Maybe you should've screamed sooner and ran before he got that close to you but you had frozen in place.
Break-ins didn’t happen around your neighborhood, let alone kidnappings.
What horrible luck that you’d be the first? 
What had you done? What had you done to deserve this?
He carried you out of your house, but still, you couldn’t bring it in you to scream for help. You wondered deep down if anyone would help you. He puts you in the back of his car and drives, the windows down and bitter cold pouring in. You’re lying in the backseat, wrists bound tight. He’d been eerily silent through this whole ordeal.
“How come you haven’t begged me not to kill you yet?” He asked, looking back at you. His voice came jumbling from his mouth fast, a bit irritated. Like he had been frustrated with your lack of struggle.
“Were you going to kill me?” Your skin crawls with goosebumps from the cold. 
He pauses and stares at you, “Do you want me to kill you?” He turns back to watch the road, neither of you answering his question. A long stretch of silence follows, he doesn’t look at you again, not even a glance from the mirror. “I’ve been watching you for a long time. I’m going to give you what you want, and then I’m going to kill you.”
You’re throat dries and your face pales. “You don’t know what I want.” Watching you? You felt an uneasiness come over you as you thought back to what you had done the past few weeks. Nothing to be honest. You had barely left the house. You imagined him peeking through windows, hiding in the yard, and watching you collect groceries and throw the trash away. Had he been in your house before? You look at him, he didn’t seem familiar at all. You’d never seen him around before. 
He dragged you from the car, you didn’t struggle but you remained limp, dead weight for him as he covered your eyes and drug you inside. When inside you feel his boot on you, pressing into your shoulder. Pressing into you, your eyes trail over the shine of leather and then up to him. He was standing above you. Taller, stronger, better than you; that's what he wanted right? You’d stare at him, was this what you wanted?
The house was messy, recently abandoned you assumed. It was clear he had been holding up here for a while. He shoved you on the ground, circling around you as you looked up at him. “What are you going to do?” You ask.
“Gonna kill you.” He admitted earnestly. “I know you, I’ve been watching you for a long time- really, I’m just helping you.”
Was he your savior? Was he doing you a favor? Would he do to you what you had never been brave enough to do yourself? Is this what you truly were? An animal built to serve? To be depraved, to crawl across glass and pour blood for someone like him?
“But I…I don’t want to die.” He gives you this pitiful look; his lips pout and his eyes soften for a moment. As if telling you you didn’t know what you were talking about, and how pitiful it was you couldn’t accept it. “What’s your name?” You ask, feeling silly for being hopeful you might be able to get any information out of him. “Jungkook.” You lower your head, wondering if trying to collect any information for authorities was even worth it. Everything about this man was intimidating. He was larger and stronger, it didn’t matter if you fought or not he could drag you around like a ragdoll all he wanted.
Jungkook gets up and walks around the living room, rummaging through piles of what you assumed were his things. “I’ve been watching you for over a year now.” He admits, “Since you went on vacation for your friend's birthday. You were so drunk at that bar, I was going to kill you then, but something told me not to.” He turns back to you with a small bound notebook in hand. “So I followed you back here and got to know you more. Imagine my shock when I realized you were getting married. Was that trip your last night of freedom, is that why you got so messy?” You stare up at him, unsure of what to say. Yes, it was your last night. You came home and your parents pushed you into marriage sooner because of it. He hands you to the notebook, urging you to open it. “I’ve been watching you since. Your life turned out to be so interesting, I couldn’t just kill you after everything.”
You flip through the pages slowly. Pictures of you and your family. Pictures of you at the altar. Scribbled paragraphs about things he heard others say about you, quotes of things you were sure you had said. Notes and bullet points of every piece of information he got. “So, what do you want to do first?”
“Can I take a bath?” You ask, mind going a bit blank and voice flat as you set the notebook down and try to take it all in. 
He let you. The water was hot and steaming when he pushed you in and closed the door. No windows, no way to get out. You settle into the water, the sweat from stress and anxiety washing off as you try and fail to relax. Could you be forgiven for things not of your control? You sink further into the water. You could hear him outside in the hall pacing. His steps were heavy and loud, ringing in your ears as you stared up at the night, fluorescent bathroom light. They did this to you, they all did this to you. Why were you being punished? Why had Jungkook laid eyes on the most pitiful woman in town and decided it was to be her? You thought about your wedding day, and your husband back home. Maybe if you had just settled, stayed with them, and did your duty as a wife Jungkook wouldn’t have stumbled into your life. Yes. you should have wanted less, you decide. Because it seems Jungkook was ready to give it all to you.
You raise your hands out of the water, the deep imprints of the zip ties he had kept you bound with were still there. Angry and a pale red color. The bathwater around you, swirling unpleasantly around you. The hot, humid air inside the bathroom, the hum of the lights, and the moths flying around them. 
You felt rotten like your teeth were falling out, hanging just barely to your gums. Truly, you felt disgusting. 
Jungkook is in the hall waiting when you finally get out. You looked up at him and saw nothing. No starving dog trying to pretend. No confusion, or games, or lies. He knew what he wanted to be and he was exactly that. He wasn’t lying, pretending, or trying to make you believe his actions were right. He said it outright; he wanted to kill you. He was going to kill you.
“I want my wedding dress” you slowly say.
“You don’t like the one you wore at your wedding, you cried the day you tried it on.” Jungkook glances at you, watching you silently agree with him.
“So you won't get it for me?”
“Don’t you want more?” He asks, “I’ll get you a new dress, whatever one you want.” 
Jungkook stares at you the same way the beast that lingered in the corners of your house did. An eager stare, unrelenting, you couldn’t move out of its sight. “I just want that dress.” You repeat, clasping your hands together and pursing your lips, “You said I could have whatever I wanted…”
A smile stretched his lips, “I’ll get it for you.” 
You lay down on the floor of the backseat of the car. Your hands are zip-tied again, and you can’t see Jungkook from your position. What an odd turn of events to say the least…you had fully expected to die the moment he dragged you out of the car and into that house, but now you could see faint glimpses of familiar landmarks leading to your neighborhood from what you can make out from the window. You think about the day of your wedding, and the events that even led up to your parents making a match for you and pushing for it so hard. Despite how vocal you had been about your unhappiness with everything about your childhood, how much you never wanted to step food into their church again; they held a firm belief that you’d come crawling back. If they shamed and argued and pushed enough you’d come back.
For as much hate you felt, twice the amount of guilt weighed you down. After a while, it all became so hopeless. It was exhausting. It made you sick, you couldn’t do anything without guilt nipping your heels, chasing you down until you drowned in it. You couldn’t live, so you came home. Let them talk you into marriage because it would fix everything, they insisted. You just needed a husband, the stability of it, someone to care about other than yourself. Have a few kids and you’ll start walking the right path again.
You waited, but it never came. You never felt better about any of your choices. Deep down you had known you wouldn’t, but you had spent so much of your life blind. Going back to it didn’t help, it wasn’t even familiar anymore. Nothing ever changed. When will God find time for you again? You live, you do as you’re told. You do everything you’re supposed to, and yet nothing. You live how you’re told. You grow, you work, you’re a wife. You follow and you ignore the hound scratching at your walls. You’ll die soon, you can feel it. When will he come back to you?
You weren’t even sure why you wanted that stupid dress. You weren’t sure if you cared what happened to you, or feared what Jungkook was going to do. Maybe it is comforting, in a weird way. No one paid attention to you, no one bothered with you. They wouldn’t until you changed, and deep down you didn’t want to change. But outside of your life now you had no idea what you would do. You never had higher dreams than staying local and marrying within your church growing up. You didn’t even attend college. You never aspired for more, now it felt like it was too late. Jungkook was talking to you from the driver's seat but you couldn’t hear him. Too enveloped in your head to focus on him, he was spouting things he had found about you the last year or so. How he’d never felt a need to stalk the people went after before, let alone this in depth. It was “life-altering” and you were going to be special to him.
The car stops and you feel a weight on your body; the canine-like creature is standing over you. Paws pressing to your stomach and legs, its breath hot, its ears perked up as Jungkook gets out of the car. You feel an immense guilt weighted on you and you consider stopping Jungkook and telling him to just leave and kill you. 
You didn’t want this. You did want this. You weren’t sure. Your husband was home, he wasn’t going to just let Jungkook in to take what he wanted. 
You lay there for what felt like an eternity until he came back, opening the back door and pulling you out of the car. It’s still dark out, chilly, and unmoving as he hooks his arms under yours and drags you back inside. He sits you down in the entryway and locks the door. You look around. “Where’s-”
“Don’t worry about him.” Jungkook shows your husband's wedding band now on his hand. “Come one” he scoffs, “you knew what I was going to do.”
You stare at him, glance and the very faint outline of the body on your kitchen floor. Had you known? You feel a bit sick, deep down you had hoped for it. He leaves you there to find the wedding dress. Jungkook smiles at you one more time before going towards the back bedroom.
When Jungkook saw you, he had every intention of following you out of that bar to kill you. It was his typical hunting ground. Every few months when the desire struck him again he would wait patiently for the right girl to cross his path. You were hard to ignore that night; annoying, he had half a mind to kill you just to shut you up. But when he followed you outside, watching you slump against the wall and fiddle with your phone he took a moment to watch. Turning away and nursing a cigarette on the opposite side of the entryway. 
The way you sniffled and cried on the phone with your mom, asking if there was any other way than to get married. You were too drunk to give him a coherent story of what you were going through, but apparently, you just hated the dress and the groom so much. He crept closer as you hung up, making some lighthearted comment about how rough you looked, and offered you a cigarette.
You talked a bit more about your ass of a fiance and how you felt like you had no other options anymore. He asked where you were from and you told him. He left you there once your friend found you and would see you again a month later. He’d been crammed in his car for days, a map of the town and surrounding forests resting on his steering wheel as he scribbled out the last few leads he had gotten on where exactly you lived. he looked up and there you were, walking with a group of older women into a boutique down the street, exiting with a pretty wrapped box a bit later. He followed you home, and everywhere after that. Watched you walk down the aisle, the wedding open to all members of the church, and allowing him to walk right in. he watched you go home and cry in the backyard, watched you talk your dress off through the window, watched your husband fuck you for the first time. He watched you sit restless every day after that.
Jungkook found your dress backed away in that same ornate gift box on the top shelf of your closet. He smiled and smoothed a hand over the box. All he knew was that he wanted you, wanted to make you happy, and then he wanted to kill you. Put you out of your misery. You’d be better off, he told himself. Clearly, you needed to be saved, so he’d kill for a better reason this time. 
You were crying when he came back. Looking up at him with red, water eyes and pressing your lips together to try and keep quiet. Jungkook set the box beside you, kneeling in front of you and tilting his head. But all you can see before you is that beast, sitting with flattened ears and tongue hanging from between rotting teeth. Staring at you with those eyes, like they were reflecting everything upsetting right back to you.
“All this guilt, there’s no use feeling it.”
“I can’t help it.” You choke out. “I can’t stop it, I see it- feel it everywhere.” You rubbed your eyes, looking at Jungkook and trying to stop your trembling bottom lip.
“Crying won’t won’t make things different. Just because you’re guilty won’t make this better. Your guilt won’t purify you.” He clicks his tongue, reaching to push your hair out of your face. “You wanted me to kill your husband, and that’s okay.”
“Thank god, the psycho thinks everything is alright. How comforting.” You weep.
“Stop holding back, come on. You want things to change, doesn’t matter how they change right? You hated him, I heard you say it myself so many times. Say it.”
“I wanted him to die.” You admit quietly. Something in you wanted this to happen. Asking Jungkook to come back here, a part of you knew the possibility. “It’s just not fair. It's not fair. I’ve done nothing but what I’m supposed to do. My whole life, I’ve been trying so hard my whole life to be what I’m supposed to be, but I don’t understand. Everything was supposed to be better, but I hated him. I hated him so much. Then you got here and I…I just wanted to feel all the pain that he’s caused, but I can’t even stomach it. I wanna be cruel, don’t I deserve to? I can’t stop crying though.”
Jungkook coos, pulling you into the chest and wrapping his arms around you. “Baby, there’s nothing wrong with that. That’s why I’m here, I want you to let go, want you to just do what you want. I watch you every day. You’re so miserable, it’s so weird. I felt bad for you.” Jungkook muses, “I’m here for you now baby, we only have a few hours left though.”
“Can I put the dress on?” Your voice was low and tired. Jungkook nodded, shifting over to take the box's lid off and peel back the tissue paper wrapped around your wedding dress. He takes it out, unraveling it carefully as you watch. 
Your wedding had been a disaster. You cried through most of it, though no one seemed to care at the time. Your late husband was glad just to have a woman to take home. He wasn’t romantic at all, nothing about him attracted you to him. He was one of the slimier men you had come across in your time in the congregation. He interpreted things how he wanted to, and often reminded you of all the things in your life you had done wrong and had yet to be forgiven for. This was the man your parents hoped to whip you back into shape. It worked in a sense, you supposed. You had been forced to settle. Your hate faded each dull day that passed, you grew weary and unhappier. 
The dress was modest. Long-sleeved, high neckline, mane with heavy ugly satin. You put it on there in the hall, feeling too numb to worry about any shame you had in front of Jungkook anymore. He zipped it up for you. Jungkook was kneeling, fixing the skirt, and letting it fluff out. He smooths it down and looks up at you. Despite the heavy eyes and tear-stricken face he smiled, “You look pretty.” 
No one told you that on your wedding day, no one told you that the day your mother chose the dress for you. You smiled, feeling a small ounce of joy for the first time tonight. “What do you want to do now?” 
You ignore his question, “Is that why you’re doing all of this, are you obsessed with me or something?”
“I guess in some sick way I am.” He wanted to kill you, but at the same time, you were the prettiest girl he’d seen in a long time. Something about the repressed guilt and how you teetered on the edge of breaking completely just got him he supposed. “I watched you the night of your wedding, you were so perfect. Everything was perfect until he came in.” He scowls at the thought, “It’s a shame.”
“Do you want to…” you trailed off, your voice a bit nervous. 
Jungkook’s fingers twitch, he's playing with the trim of your skirt. “I do” he murmured, “I’ve thought about you every night since I met you” He raves, “you’re the only one- why? Why do you make me so crazy?” He asks, brushing off any answer you try to give him. “Want you, need you” He breathed, the fabric of your wedding dress bunching up as he pulled at it.
“I can’t-” you grabbed at his hands. You could feel it, the guilt creeping in. Your eyes land on your wedding ring. Torn with morbid want and a last shred of gut-wrenching guilt, you looked into his eyes. Tempting dark pools stare back at you he grabs at your hand. “We’ve come so far already, don’t stop now. Besides” he makes it a point to flash your late husband's wedding band. “I’m your husband now.” you flush, the words twisting in your ears are wrong; everything about tonight was wrong. It felt like a dream more than reality.
“I know you think I’m attractive” he pushes through the layers of the dress, his hands cold as he rests them on your thighs. “It’s so wrong of you baby” he purrs, “you know I’m gonna kill you, but you want me don’t you?” 
“I know” you whimper, chest heaving as you watch him. His fingers trace against your skin, his hand moving between your legs. 
“When’s the last time your husband touched you?” He asks, “This is what you want, right? You want someone to want you?”
Your fingers twist in his hair, gripping tight as if you were about to fall. Your legs trembled under the weight of guilt and need over what was happening. He was right though, it had been a long time since you felt wanted at all. The moment you had sex the first time those years ago, you knew no one would want you. Not in the church, not here. Impure, a whore. Your mother had even said it when you sobbed and told her. 
Your back arches, your thighs tremble, and you let your grip on his hair loosen. You fear toppling over, your breathing a bit ragged. You felt his lips trace your inner thigh, leaving half-hearted kisses and sinking his teeth into your skin. 
“You look so pretty in your dress.” Jungkook reappears, kneeling before you a minute longer. Fixing the skirt of the dress, smoothing the fabric down then reaching for your hand. He traces the wedding ring a few times.
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“Where do you want me to do it?” Jungkook’s question falls on deaf ears. You’re sitting in the passenger side of his car, still wearing a dress and still trying to steady your pounding heart.
Where did you want to die?
Did you want to die?
You were scared of living as much as dying; but was there anything left for you anyways? 
Jungkook you supposed, there was a weird want for him. Maybe it was messed up, he was into you. He took all this time to watch you and wanted you to be happy before you died. You weren’t sure if you were happy. 
Before you got out of high school the town church moved to a new building. A bigger, newer, and nicer one. The old one was small, typical of what you would imagine a small, secluded town’s church would look like. He took you there, unprompted. It was fitting maybe. You walked in front of him and listened to Jungkook load the gun and mutter under his breath. Once inside you stand in place, waiting for him to turn and shoot. You look around the familiar space, your stomach turning, memories of the past playing in your mind. 
The cross mounted above you is entrancing, draped in sheer black fabric, and its shadowy outline is stark against the moon's light. Your eyes flicker back to Jungkook, who seems to have caught onto your staring and also happens to stand before you draped in the moonlight. 
Your last moments would be here. Everything around you felt distorted, and unreal as you looked around another time. 
Staining his hands red and tearing into something clean was all he was. All he wanted. You were both ugly in a sense, he was just more open about it. You look up at him. It’s scary now. You had known what was going to happen from the moment he took you. You knew. You knew he wouldn’t give you a happy ending, only give you a temporary release from everything. He killed your husband, it made you happy. He let you prance around in a wedding dress and pretend one last time you could do it all again. He played well with you, you had been able to push aside the dark truth of your situation for a time. But now he was standing before you, reveling in some kind of glory of it all. Did glory taste different to him? You couldn’t imagine- but was letting him kill that man no different than this? In a way, you had killed your husband, was this all some kind of long, drawn-out punishment for that? For lifelong confusion and defiance?
You hoped someone would find you when you were. Find your carcass and see, understand that you had been, still were, always being ripped open. Torn to pieces and dragged to muddy waters, you hoped they’d know you hadn’t been scared, maybe even welcomed it. Let them know this was love; in some twisted way. Love from Jungkook, or god sending him your way. You stopped believing in god a long time ago, grappled with it for so long, but you hoped he had loved you; at least once. Make the struggle worth it, prove you wrong. Or maybe it was love from yourself for closing your eyes and accepting it. 
Please, let this be love. Let your body be stained with love for once.
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taglist: @aft3rhrs
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exhaslo · 3 months
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Corruption Ch9
(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)
Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8
Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship?
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Three Months, One Day until D-Day
The weather was starting to get chilly. Winter was approaching faster than Fall even began. You had to let out a small whimper in protest since your body was getting colder than it normally would. The only reason you could think of was your new Spider DNA.
Shivering in your office as you waited for the IT guy to come up and fix your heater, you decided to read your health examination overview. Miguel had handed it to you personally, wanting to make sure you knew that he did act professionally.
"Ah! If only I could remember what happened. Hopefully I didn't act too much of a goof," You whined, opening the envelope.
As you read, you were relieved that everything was fine. Your new changes didn't cause any affect to your body...at least that the blood and overall examination could pick up. Your organic webs, ability to cling to walls and now sensitivity to the cold was something that wouldn't be noticed.
You sighed sadly, knowing that this secret was going to be buried with you. Finishing the letter, you noticed Miguel's handwriting on the bottom.
'Cancel your gym membership and start eating more.'
Your cheeks started to heat up and your smile grew wide. People can say what they will about Miguel, but deep down, he was still a caring man. It was just hard to find that kind spot.
Gasping, you felt your body tense from the cold. You reached for the blanket on your couch, wrapping yourself in it.
"L-Lyla...w-when...will the I-IT guy....c-come?" You stuttered from the cold.
---------
"Sir, it seems like (Y/N) is reacting poorly to the weather." Lyla stated as Miguel worked on DNA seperation.
"How so?"
"She's asking if spiders hibernate during the winter."
Miguel stopped what he was doing. Normally, he would chuckle at such a dumb question, but not when it came to you. Rushing out of his personal lab, Miguel hurried to your office. He had to make sure that you were okay. He couldn't allow anything to happen to you.
His blood was pumping with adrenaline. All of these special changes within you that Miguel could not pick up from your blood. It was all so fascinating. It made him wonder what else you could do, but he was not going to test those theories.
Not when it could harm you.
Finally arriving at your office, Miguel grunted at the sight of Aaron checking on you. Why did the IT agent have to be him of all people? Did he not learn his lesson from last time? Whatever the case, Miguel was not one to shy away from crushing other people.
"Isn't there a job you should be doing?" Miguel tone was harsher than normal.
"(Y/N) doesn't look too good. I was going to-"
"Fix the heater in here."
Miguel's glare was prominent as he hissed out the words. What good was a love sick puppy if he couldn't even do one little thing? At least you had proven again and again to Miguel your use. You were the only one who stood by his side for so long.
"M-Miguel? D-Did I m-miss an a-appointment?" You stuttered, shaking like a leaf on your couch.
Ah, how you still concerned yourself with him. Miguel was going to enjoy twisting you into his perfect little wife. Creating the perfect humans once he, himself, becomes just like you.
"No." Miguel said simply.
Picking you up with ease, Miguel made his way out of your office. He was unable to hide his smirk as Aaron glared daggers. What good was it to be jealous if he couldn't act on it? Miguel didn't care who he had to piss off, as long as he got his way.
"M-Miguel...I-It's cold," You whispered.
"I know,"
Ignoring the looks and stares he received, Miguel continued to his office. What good were others to do? They knew better than to say anything to him. Miguel's business was his own. Besides, this should clarify that you belonged to him.
Once Miguel reached his office, he had Lyla turn the heat up. It annoyed him, but he was going to have to wait on studying your blood any further today. Miguel's focus was on your health.
Sitting on his chair, Miguel had you sit on his lap. You cozied up quick, still shivering from the cold. Miguel took this time to catch up on some paperwork he had ignored on purpose. Miguel didn't want to admit it, but this was comfortable.
"(Y/n)'s temperature is slowly rising, along with yours. Shall I cool off the room?" Lyla asked. Miguel typed away,
"No. Not until (Y/N) is back to normal." Miguel grunted before pausing, "Lyla, order (Y/N) some heat forming clothing. I can't have her collapsing like his on her way home."
"And of her apartment?"
"Have extra heaters ordered and in place of each room. They will be of use until I take her for myself."
"Yes, sir."
Miguel exhaled softly as he leaned back in his heat. You were breathing softly against his neck as you slept. This sure was better than you grinding him and talking nonsense from when you were high from his drug. This was peaceful.
However, there was the still the threat of someone daring to steal you away from him. Miguel knew that you would never betray him, but he also knew that eventually you would have a limit. Someone could give you the affection you craved and sweep you off your feet.
The thought angered Miguel.
There was already a minor threat at his door. Miguel was going to have to go above and beyond in order to keep you. He knew that eventually this would happen, but to be forced to do it so soon? It was frustrating.
With another loud sigh, Miguel had to accept his fate. This will help in the future anyway. You were his precious little test subject. Everything about you belonged to Miguel.
And he was going to show you.
---------
You whimpered a soft grunt as you started to come to. Fluttering your eyes open, you recognized the room you were in. You couldn't help but cry softly, knowing that you probably burdened Miguel once again.
"Why are you whining? I'd thought you be happy in this situation." Miguel scoffed.
You flinched and immediately fixed yourself, finding Miguel under you. Your face turned bright red as his hands gripped your waist. How did you end up in this situation again? Your heart couldn't take such embarassment.
"I-I'm so sorry! I didn't cause you too much trouble, did I?"
You were panicking. Miguel was going to be annoyed now. Ready to get off his lap, you were surprised when Miguel kept you in place. His grip was firm against your waist.
"Miguel?"
"You had me worried, (Y/n)." Miguel grumbled, his hand now against your cheek, "I thought I told you to watch your health?"
"I-I'm sorry, but...I couldn't control how cold I got."
"Why a sudden change?" Miguel hummed, stroking your cheek.
You shuddered, leaning against him. You wanted to tell Miguel the truth, but you knew the consequences. It was too dangerous to tell him. Resting your head against his hand, you simply shrugged to his question.
"Then you had that guy come and fix your heater?" His tone was cruel as Miguel grabbed your chin, pulling you closer.
"I-I just called IT...I didn't know who would come."
"Don't care. You belong to me."
You felt a shiver run down your spine towards his words. You always knew that Miguel was a possessive man. Feeling your face getting closer to his, your heart rate started to increase. Your breathing hitched as Miguel placed his lips against yours.
Was this really happening?
His lips were rough and cold. Nothing like you imagined, but you still felt like you were in cloud nine. As the two of you parted, you closed your eyes as Miguel stroked your cheek once more.
"You...are...mine." He said firmly.
"Yes, Miguel," You hummed in response.
"You will remember to do as I say, right? Do so, and I shall keep giving you these treats you enjoy so much."
"You're making me sound like a pet. Surely, you must enjoy...just a little of this too....right?" You asked, frowning slightly. Miguel raised a brow,
"I suppose I wouldn't have done it otherwise," He stroked your lips next, "You know I like what's mine to do as I please."
"I know, but I'm a person too." You huffed.
Miguel let out a soft grunt before pulling you into another kiss. His hand trailed up your back, causing you to shiver and grab onto him. Perhaps you needed to give Miguel some leniency. This was the first time you had ever seen him so affectionate. Perhaps he knew nothing of love.
Which meant that you had to teach him.
"I know," Miguel finally replied back. You smiled, enjoying the kisses he was giving you,
"Hehe, but I'll still listen to you. You're still my boss."
--------
Your boss and soon to be owner. Oh, how dangerous of a combo that was. You were too naïve to see what Miguel had planned for you. Always seeing the good in others. You were such a good girl. Miguel was enjoying this slow corruption.
"Speaking of which, because of this...I am behind on work. I need you to complete some reports for me." Miguel requested, flipping you on his lap.
His arm was still tight around you waist, refusing to let you go. Miguel wanted to keep you in his embrace a little longer. Who knows when he was going to be able to steal you from your hero life. Miguel couldn't allow you to be free and get injured.
"Miguel, I wouldn't understand these. Are you sure you want me to fill them out for you?"
"Those are the easy ones."
"Easy for you," You huffed. Miguel furrowed his brows, leaning towards your ear,
"Be a good girl and help me." He whispered, watching you turn into putty. "Your office is still a frozen-"
"Sir, Doc Ock has been taken in. Would you like to start taking his blood sample?" Lyla appeared, interrupting Miguel.
"Huh? Doc Ock? What are you planning on doing with that super villain?" You asked, shocked. Miguel chuckled lowly as he got up and sat you in his chair,
"Wasn't he the one who hurt you that one time you got caught in the action? All I plan to do is question him...and run some tests." Miguel's smile turned wicked.
Doc Ock was going to regret ever laying a tentacle on you. Miguel was going to make his debut as the new villain in the city. No one was going to ever harm you again.
"B-but he's dangerous! Even Spider-Woman had a hard time-"
"Don't you trust me?" Miguel hummed, patting your head, "I'll be fine, you should be more worried about those reports."
Leaving his office, Miguel couldn't help but chuckle. You were such a good girl for him. This was truly a splendid day.
"Lyla, inform the workers that we'll be serving octopus for lunch today."
"Yes, sir~."
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Next Chapter
(Still on small hiatus, just managed to finish Persona 3 haha)
@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @chaoticlovingdreamer @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper @jadeloverxd
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oneforthemunny · 5 months
Text
i'm not entirely sure what prompted this. to be utterly honest, the holidays are rough sometimes, and i've been kind of struggling so here's this bc this is how i cope now :)
tw: mentions of loss, grief, depression.
“...at the tone, please record your message.” 
Beep.
“Uh, hey. It’s-It’s Eddie. I, uh, I was just calling to, uh- I was just wanting to check on ya. I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days, sweetheart, and I know you’ve been busy. I just… Yeah, gimme a call back when you can, alright? I still got those VHS’s. Rentals not due for a couple of days. I’d-I’d really like to see you. Just… call me back when you get this. Even if it’s late. Love you.” 
The lights on your tree started to blur, water-stained with blinding, swirling tears of guilt. Settled on your couch, in the same crumpled position that you fell into as soon as you got off work, waves of exhaustion consuming you, but sleep never came easily. 
The most wonderful time of the year was a stretch, a mockery of a term that felt poisoned and back handed. With every happy, glowy commercial, all smiling families and sing-songy laugh; it made you feel sick at the falseness of it all. 
It had been four days since you last spoke to Eddie, nearing two weeks since you saw him in person. Not out of spite, or a fight like it had been in the past. This time, it was you- all you. 
The message on the receiver played on a loop, you jammed your finger on the button, letting it sound off its automated message before his voice filled the silent space in the room. You missed the sound of his voice, the warmth behind it so comforting in this frigid winter. It might be better to call him, actually hear him and talk to him, but every time you reached for the phone, you couldn’t dial his number. That would mean you’d have to talk, have to say something, tell him why you’d been so MIA, and that required a strength you didn’t have yet. 
Somewhere between the late night talk show coming on, but not before your neighbor’s lights turned off, there was a knock at your door. You figured it was your neighbor across from you, Mrs. Jennings, always bringing you baked treats in festive sweaters, leaving with a hearty “Merry Christmas!” that always had you crumbling inside. 
“Baby?” Your body stilled, breath caught in your lungs at the sound, like he might be able to see you through the door. 
“Hey, I-I know you’re in there.” Eddie’s voice was soft, muffled by the heavy wood of your door. “Not to sound like a total fuckin’ stalker or anything. I just… I wanna make sure you’re ok?” 
Your mind screamed at you to move, to go answer the door, to reply, to do anything. 
The lock jiggled, a squeak and a creak before the door was opening softly- hesitantly, like he was scared of what he might find on the other side. “Babe?” Eddie’s eyes scanned the small kitchen area, your purse slung on the table, shoes kicked off by the door into a pile. 
“You alright? I-I called you a coupla times, actually, and I just wanted to make sure you were ok.” His voice was tight, heavy soled steps on the carpet. 
You knew he saw you by the way he stopped. Halted behind the couch, hovering over a collapsed you on the couch. Tear stained sweatshirt sleeves under your head, an array of photo albums you always kept tucked in the top of the storage closet down the hall, memories sprawled out on the coffee table, creased on the edges from your shaky grasp. 
The one closest to you had his stomach dropping. He’d seen her before, the solemn looks and shaky breaths that you and your family gave when you’d pass the outdated family portrait in your home. Plastered on the wall with matching bright smiles, but looming with a haunting, sickening feeling. Eddie knew the feeling, a little too well. 
“Oh.” Eddie breathed before he could help himself. 
You wanted to sob, felt the burn of it in your throat, curling into yourself. 
“No, no, no, I-I didn’t-” Eddie’s eyes darted frantically, reaching out towards you, but never touching you. He knew what this felt like, knew the embarrassment and vulnerability, the shame and dread. 
He knew what it felt like. 
Silently, he sank next to you on the couch, careful of the delicate photos, placing them out of the way with a gentleness that had you sniffling, swallowing down a whimpering cry. A hand on your back, pulling your body into his, letting the weight of you settle onto his chest. 
Your face moved into the soft cotton of his tee. He’d smoked on the way over here, though it was comforting. Nose rubbing against his chest, clinging to the fabric next to you in a fisted clutch. Eddie’s arms around your frame, holding you firmly yet so softly at the same time. 
Your neighbor’s lights were off by the time you finally spoke. 
“I was in line at Melvald’s getting wrapping paper,” You croaked, voice raspy with emotions, cheek still pressed to Eddie’s chest. You could hear his heartbeat. “And they started playing this song. The Christmas one by The Partridge Family?” 
Eddie nodded slowly, hand still gliding soothingly up and down your spine. He could feel your shaky breath through his fingertips. “She, uh,” You swallowed around the words. “She used to love that song. Would always sing it when we’d put the trimmings on the tree. My mom would have that hanging tinsel you know?” 
“Yeah.” 
“And,” Your tone fell at the thought, at the mention of her again. “She’d always play this song on a loop. Would throw it around, all over the branches just to piss my mom off.” Your lips curled at the memory. You always laughed when she did that. Now you couldn’t because you knew she’d never do it again. 
There was a moment, a beat of silence in the still room. “Anyways, I…I was going to get wrapping paper because I’m so fucking behind on wrapping and-and buying, because I’ve been working-” 
“-You’ve been working a lot.” Eddie’s eyes cut down to you, carefully. 
You sighed, a shudder of a breath in. “Yeah. I know.” It was soft, an apology. You didn’t need to, but Eddie was glad to hear it. Selfishly, he was relieved that his fears that this was somehow his fault, that he’d done something to upset you, weren’t true. 
“I just… I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to be busy? I felt like if I stayed busy, I wouldn’t really get to think about it. Get this holiday over with and then I wouldn’t feel so…” You didn’t really know what to say, how to describe the feeling. 
“No, I… I get it.” Eddie nodded slowly, staring off in the colorful strands of lights glimmering from the tree in the far corner of the room. “My mom used to wear that, uh, that Pond's stuff to bed. The face stuff with the green lid?” You nodded slowly, cheek still smushed against his chest. 
“And right after she passed, I-I was in middle school, right? Seventh grade. And we had a sub and… fuck, she smelled just like that cream.” Eddie shook his head softly at the memory. “She just walked past me to make sure we were reading, and I smelled it and… I just ran out of the classroom because I didn’t want to cry in front of everyone. But, like, running out wasn’t much better.” 
You snorted softly, light enough to have Eddie’s gaze peering back down to you, heart skipping in his chest. “Yeah, I would say that might make it worse.” 
“Wasn’t very smooth.” Eddie nodded. “Just running out of the classroom seemed better than crying.” 
You paused for a moment, lips puckered in a pout. “It’s weird.” You muttered, still looking ahead. “How you’re just out and the smallest things just… send you over the edge.” 
“Yeah.” Eddie sighed. “Grief’s a weird thing.” 
“Really weird.” You mumbled. 
Eddie ducked his chin down, let his nose press into your scalp, breathing in your scent, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m here for you, you know?” He muttered, the vibrations from his words tickling your scalp. “For when it gets weird. You don’t… this sounds really fuckin’ cheesy and I’m sorry, but you don’t have to do it by yourself. Don’t have to be alone.” 
You weren’t sure what to say. Not sure you could even speak if you did know what to say, the growing lump in your throat strangling you. Instead, you clung tighter to his shirt, pressed yourself further into the warm, inviting hold that felt familiar and calming. 
Eddie would go and get the wrapping paper for you tomorrow, even help you wrap a few gifts. He’d help you carefully put up the photos with a gentleness that would have your heart fluttering. But for now, he held you, fingers moving down your spine, chin pressed to the top of your head, pulling you closer to him on the tiny couch.
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multific · 1 year
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Be Paw-Sitive
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Inspired by @rilakeila​'s work
Summary: You are an animagus who can turn into a cat. But one morning, you wake up to an unpleasant surprise. 
You were majorly screwed.
How were you supposed to go to classes like this?!
Seem like your private lessons with Professor McGonagall didn't pay off as well as you thought.
Now, here you were stuck with a pair of ears and a tail!
You must have tried to turn in your sleep and somehow got halfway stuck. That wouldn't be the issue. The issue was that no matter what you tried, you couldn't make them go away.
And your first class was with Snape... great. 
No student knew about your abilities. Some professors knew but that's all.
You wanted to call in sick, pretending you were ill, but you also knew no one would believe you.
One last attempt you turned fully into a feline before turning back but the ears and tail were still there. You knew you had to go to class. You knew you couldn't reveal your secret.
You let out a sigh before grabbing your robe to hide your tail and a hat for your head. You thanked the winter at least it will be passable on the hallways, maybe not inside the class but you will deal with that later...
"Miss Y/L/N... I thought you were aware that it is rude to wear a hat inside my class." 
Of course, Snape couldn't just let it pass, but you were a great actress.
"Of course, Professor, I got ill last night and I am shivering as it is, if you could allow me please to keep it on, I learned so much for today's test, I didn't want to miss it." Snape gave you a look but let it pass. Just this once.
After class when everyone left, you stayed behind.
"Professor, I do apologise for the hat."
"You are not sick." his voice was so monotone.
"No. I woke up this morning and..." you took off your hat and showed him your ears. "And I also have a tail..." 
"I'll talk with Minerva. See if she can help, for now go to your next class." you smiled and turned to leave.
You always liked Snape. There was something about him, something behind his eyes, he was hiding his kindness and you saw that.
Your day went on quite well, pretending to be sick so you could keep your hat on. Professor McGonagall unfortunately, had no idea how to change you back, she said she will read some books and get back to you as soon as possible.
Later that day, you sat defeated in a hallway. It was rather quiet since no one really used that hallway.
You let out a long sigh before trying to return to your book.
"Here you are. I have been looking for you." came a voice and as you looked up, you saw Mattheo walking over to you. "Here." he handed you a small brown bag and you looked at him confused. "Take it, it's not going to explode!" Mattheo and you barely spoke before. He was a friend of yours, you would say. 
You took the bag and opened it, only to find medicine in there.
"The lady at the store said these are the best for a cold." he explained as you looked back up at him. "You said during many classes today that you feel ill."
Was he worried about you?
"Thank you!" you yelled after him as he walked away. He raised one of his hands to wave goodbye. 
You felt your heart swell.
You might have just developed a crush on Mattheo Riddle...
---
Two days later and you had the same issue. 
The professors had no idea how to help you and every possibility you tried out failed.
Dumbledor decided to officially give you an exemption from classes for the time being. He respected your decision that you didn't want to share your secret with the students. 
Everyone was told that you were sick.
You truly didn't like lying to others, especially your friends, but you were also not ready to share that you are an animagus.
There was a sudden knock on your door.
"O-One moment!" you yelled, getting into bed and covering your head with your hoodie. "Come in!"
It was Mattheo, the last person you expected. 
"Hi." he said as he closed the door behind himself. 
"Hello."
"How are you feeling?"
"Oh, I'm a little better thank you." you smiled as he looked around your room.
He noticed the books scattered around the place. Everything looked and smelled like you.
"What's this?" he said as he walked over to your table, finding the bag he gave you days ago. "Y-You didn't take the meds I gave you?"
"Um..." but you saw him rolling his eyes.
"Are you serious? I thought you were different from the others! You could have told me, I know I am the Dark Lord's son! But I am not like him!"
"What?" you asked, confused.
"For fucks sake! You didn't take these because you hate me just like the others right?!" he yelled before running towards the door but you were also fast. You grabbed his arm and turned him towards you. He was angry.
"I-that's not why. I don't hate you." you said but he rolled his eyes. 
"You don't even look sick. Did you lie to the teachers?!" he asked as he looked at your face. 
The hatred in his eyes made you scared. Scared that you will lose him.
"I didn't." 
"What is going on here?"
"I can't tell you and please stop yelling."
"I yell if I want to Y/N! You made me worry for you that you were sick! I got you medicine and now two days later I find out that you didn't even take them! Is this because I'm a Riddle?! Why did you lie?!"
"I didn't... I can't tell you."
"Can't tell me?! Y/N, I thought you were better than that. I thought you could see beyond a last name, not like the others. Looks I was wrong." he moved to get to the door but you stood in his way, leaning against the door, not letting him out. "Move out of my way." but you shook your head, no. "MOVE!" he yelled louder than before and it really irritated your ears. You covered your face as you slid down against the door, tears running down your face.
"I don't hate you, please don't hate me." is what you said but he yelled again, this time it was your name. And just like that, you were gone.
Mattheo's eyes nearly fell out of his head as he now saw a cat where you were previously. The cat ran under the bed and Mattheo stood there, frozen. 
His brain tried to function but he just couldn't move or think.
Took him a good minute before he knelt down on the floor and looked under the bed. 
"Come out please." he said with such a soft voice, it even surprised him. He tried to reach under the bed but you moved away, out of his reach. "Come on, Y/N." but you didn't budge. He let out a sigh. "I don't hate you. I really don't. I was just angry, I'm sorry for yelling. I really like you, Y/N. So, my mind went into a spiral when I thought you hated me, but I get it now, please come out." but you didn't move. 
Mattheo moved to sit on the bed, deciding to give you time and space.
You moved from under the bed. Getting out and looking at him as he kept on staring at the wall. You didn't turn back, deciding to stay as a feline for now. 
You jumped up on the bed and this is when he noticed you. You sat with your tail moving around you, you were thinking as well.
"I didn't know you were an animagus. I guess no one else knows." you shook your head, no. "Do the professors know?" you nodded, yes. "Ah, makes sense. You are a really cute cat you know. You look very fluffy and... sorry." He tried to reach over possibly to pet you but stopped. Still sitting on the bed, you took a deep breath before turning back.
"Please don't tell the others. They would tease and bully me." you begged as you moved closer to him. "I didn't go to classes because I can't make my tail and ears disappear," you said pointing at your head. "I'm sorry for lying. I never expected you to buy me medicine." he nodded.
"I won't tell anyone."
"I really like you too, Mattheo. I felt really bad for lying, but you understand why I couldn't tell you." he nodded before he looked at you, smiling a little.
"Your eyes are also... um... cat-like?" you let out a long sigh.
"Professor McGonagall said it is normal for a young animagus to have certain characteristics like that. Eyes are normal but ears and tail... not so much."
"I think it's cute." he reached up, touching the ears on top of your head. "Would you purr if I scratched here?"
"No, I bite."
"You are not a nice kitty then." he smirked and you smiled.
"I don't plan on being one." you played along with him and it made him smile. "I am a very bad kitty especially when someone who isn't my boyfriend touches me."
"Oh, you have a boyfriend now?"
"I do."
"Lucky fella."
"Yeah, he brings me medicine when I'm sick but he is rather bothered by his last name."
"I'm not! People are." you smiled as you moved even closer to him, and he moved his arm around you. "I'll try and get you some notes from classes." his hand ran up and down your back, it found your tail as he flinched away a little but you moved it back to his hand. 
"Next time, please don't yell at me. I hate it when people argue and my hearing is sensitive."
"Sorry, Darling." a comfortable silence filled the room. "I'm glad you are not sick at least. I was rather worried."
"I still have a tail and ears..."
"They are at least cute." you looked at him before moving your head to his neck. 
"You are cute." you said as you yawned a little. 
"So... should I leave before your boyfriend comes back?"
"He is a big scary Slytherin so... you might want to." you smiled as you moved back to sit.
"As soon as your ears have disappeared, I will take you on a date."
"We don't have to wait! I can wear my hat!" you smiled as he watched your eyes shine. He gave you a nod before you jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom. 
"Kitten, take it slow please, I still have a class."
"Oh... will you skip?"
"I mean it is... of course I will." you smiled and resumed brushing your hair. 
You were really excited about this new chapter in your life. 
A boyfriend who accepts you and didn't judge you for being an animagus.
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Part 2 SMUT
Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  
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twstfanblog · 4 months
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*~Period Drama~* Monday-Extended
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A/N: SCREAMS EVEN LOUDER. So excited to share this with you guys! Sorry it took me so long to update the series, I took a winter break along with getting ill on the first fucking day of the new year. Another thank you to @bun-lapin for allowing me to use their lovely OCs for this fic series! I love them so much and I'm having so much fun playing with them! Word Count: 6K (This is literally just half the part omfg...) Warnings: She/They Pronouns OC, (Poorly written fight scene, Lilia) Pairings: YuuxJamilxAzulxMalleus (Poly) ~Taglist(Oh wow this got big) @twistedcece @deltrea @krenenbaker @koebishrimpuwu @cat100200 @emyluwinter @obsessionswithfandoms @ady-hilborn @lucid-stories @girl-nahh-two @itz-hydrodeptus-foxy7 @chyluna @riddlesimps @death-the-jo @a-twistedheartslonging @qixlin @chaosistheonlyway @welcome-to-my-horde @abell2029cluster @kirans-wonderland @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @the-ace-reader @iamsoconfusedallofthetime Start, Part 2 (Octavinelle), Part 3 (Heartslabyul), Part 4 (Savanaclaw), Part 4.5 (Here), Part 5 (Diasomnia pt.2)
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Silver was concerned, he could say that truthfully now.
He sat beside Malleus, the horned fae sitting between him and his father pouting. Across from them were Sebek and his friends, minus Yuu and Ortho. The fact the prefect was missing from the ensemble being the reason Malleus was pouting again.
Early Saturday morning, Yuu had contacted Malleus and canceled their planned weekend outings. Only stating they weren't feeling up to doing much for the weekend due to a surprise occurrence, promising to see him on Monday during lunch. Bad news that was only doubled by their dorm advisor telling Malleus he was forbidden to enter Ramshackle grounds until further notice. Silver could still remember the sound of Malleus' dejected cello playing, the chords seeming to echo through all of Diasomnia as the rain outside nearly flooded the dorm. 
Lilia had managed to improve Malleus’ mood that morning with the fact he was going to see Yuu soon. Only to have his hopes crushed once again at Epel's sheepish explanation that Yuu was still sick. And now the incomplete ‘Firstie Squad’ all squished onto one long couch while he, Lilia, and a sulking Malleus sat on another.
The longer the silence lasted, the longer Silver had a chance to really observe Sebek. As his father was busy keeping Malleus from throwing a tantrum, Silver watched Sebek sit with absolute poise and hands clasped together so tight he feared for his bones. Sebek also refused to look him in the eyes, a bead of sweat keeping a trembling presence on his temple as he kept completely silent. A feat that Silver realized the half-fae had managed since early Saturday evening…
Jack had been quick to state they were skipping 3rd period because Sebek wasn't feeling well, bringing him back to the dorm to keep him company since no one was allowed at Ramshackle. Deuce had noticed him when they entered the dorm, doing a double take with wide eyes as he mumbled about him being a second year under his breath. He asked him frantically, hands grasping tight to his shoulders, if he was also sick, if he had been to the school that day. Silver slowly explained that; no, he had not. He chose to stay in the dorm in an effort to right his internal clock. A task his father and Malleus had been helping with since the 3rd years didn't have classes until after lunch that day.
Just as the grandfather clock chimed, indicating the start of the lunch period, Malleus stood from the couch with a sigh, “Enough waiting. If my lover is ill and unable to attend school, I can simply gather their work and bring it to them.”
Lilia giggles, standing along with Malleus as they start to walk toward the massive double doors leading out of the dorm, “A wonderful idea, Malleus! And since you'll already be there it's not out of the question to sit and visit with them. I'm sure some tea and conversation is just what they need-”
“NO!”
Everyone jumps, staring wide-eyed at Sebek's almost screeching outburst. The half-fae sat more hunched in on himself, shoulders up to his ears as he looked down in embarrassment at the desperate voice crack that echoed through the room. Silver only felt his concern growing as he saw how flushed Sebek's face was getting, as if he was struggling to physically hold something in, “Sebek…Are you okay?”
Epel chimes in, eyes wide in what Silver could only call panic, as he leaned to block their view of Sebek, “That's right! Sebek's sick! You guys should, like, stay and help us heal him up or whatever!”
Malleus and Lilia share a glance before Lilia addresses the freshmen, “Sebek seems to have more than enough support with you four. Add on Silver and I'm sure no illness will last long.”
With a soft smile, Malleus holds a hand out to address Sebek, “As a show of our bond, I will gather your work as well, Sebek. I know you wouldn't want poor health to interrupt your studies.”
Malleus turns away to walk toward the door, only to freeze mid-step at the truly pathetic-sounding whine that echoes through the air. The fae turns back around, eyes wide as he looks at Sebek curled into himself and trying to hide his entire being the best he could in Ace’s lap, “...Sebek?”
Lilia steps forward, worry slowly bleeding onto his face as he taps his chin, “Maybe I can stay back a bit longer and make you some nice and healthy stew…?”
Malleus and Silver share a more concerned look at the idea of Lilia's cooking. Silver makes quick glances at the door as a silent plea for Malleus to escape and bring back some form of relief.
“Perhaps I should find madame Oster or professor Crewel to secure a tonic for Sebek…and lunch of our guests-”
Deuce feels Sebek's panicked grasp on his arm. The half fae too embarrassed to possibly make another sound but begging them to help him keep Malleus from entering the school, “DRACONIA-SENPAI! YOU SHOULD STAY AND READ SEBEK A BEDTIME STORY INSTEAD! T-TO MAKE HIM FEEL BETTER!” By the Seven, he's so sorry, Sebek…
“...” Malleus looks to the side, pondering the idea with honest intensity, “Well, I'm not opposed…”
CLICK-CLUNK
Everyone turns, watching the massive front doors of the dorm slowly have their locks twisted shut. Intricate designs coming alive and moving across the wood and stone to turn the ominous castle into an inescapable prison. In front of the doors stood Hui-Yan, dorm advisor to Diasomnia, clipping the black metal key back to her hip before she turned to the group with a stern expression, “No one is leaving the dorm until further notice.”
Lilia looks at Hui-Yan with wide eyes, ruby irises glancing at the now magically barricaded doors and windows before drifting back to the eastern woman, “Why…?”
“Because, I said so.”
Silver couldn't see it, but he knows his father's eye twitched.
Hui-Yan was the dorm advisor to Diasomnia, something he wasn't entirely sure if his father actually agreed with. The Eastern woman was a threat in all aspects; beautiful, deadly, and cold. Though some (Sebek) spoke ill of how she wielded her power over the dorm, none of them could deny the woman was an icon of nobility, even without a formal title. She was also his and Sebek's personal close combat tutor. How his father convinced her of it he'd never know. But, he would like to have moments without the near-constant threat of being ambushed on his way to the bathroom in the middle of the night…
“I just don't see why we're not allowed out of the dorm. Have we done something wrong, dear advisor?” Lilia walked closer to Hui-Yan, a tight smile on his lips as he openly stared at the key latched to her hip.
“Are you questioning my authority, Vanrouge?”
“...” Lilia took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he leaned away from the golden-eyed teacher, “No ma'am.” Lilia knew he couldn't risk a bunch of impressionable teen boys getting the idea that mutiny was an accepted idea in any form…
“I should hope not. So as I said, no one is allowed out of the dorm until further notice.” she gestures to the empty space beside both of them, “Stand aside.”
Lila stepped over, a tight smile on his face as he let her walk past him, “...” his smile turns teasing, “But…since this does deal with the future of the Draconia bloodline, I believe I outrank you in this matter, so~...”
In a move faster than any of them could follow, Lilia closed the distance between himself and Hui-Yan. He quickly snatched the key from the loop on her hip, only pulling away a few inches before her hand was gripping his wrist.
She glared at Lilia's jovial expression, trying to tug the fae's hand closer only to find resistance, “Release the key, Vanrouge.”
“Nope~.”
Hui-Yan's eyes seem to glow as she snarls, leaning closer to growl in Lilia's face, “Release it…”
“Oh!” Lilia leans in just as close, his teasing smile turning into an almost seductive smirk as he growled back, voice deepening, “Are we growling now?”
“What the fuck?” Ace quietly spoke from couches, the other students in the room watching the display with uncomfortable expressions.
Silver catches eyes with Malleus. While the first years were preoccupied watching the growing struggle between Lilia and their increasingly angered dorm advisor, Silver made quick glances toward the side of the lounge area. While the key locked down the dorm so to speak, it left a single side entrance open for exit only. A small fact that his father had shared once he and Sebek started to search for Malleus at night.
Malleus perks up, smiling in thanks at Silver before looking over his shoulder. Lilia and Hui-Yan had escalated to nearly flinging the other around in an effort to gain control of the key. At a decently brutal slam Lilia took to the floor, yet he didn't release his hold on the key, Malleus took that as his sign to exit stage left.
He had just barely walked out of the room, a pep in his step as he fantasized about how happy his dearest lover would be to see him. Turning the corner he jumped as a voice nearly rivaling Sebek's rang out.
“MALLEUS IS LEAVING!”
Malleus doubles back to glare at the panicked-looking wolf beastman. He'd certainly remember to attend the next dorm lead meeting, if only to speak to Leona about his supposed standards for tattle-tales in his dorm. But, his glare as cut off as he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, Hui-Yan had him in her sights. He moved back behind the corner, teleporting to the door to gain as much distance as he could from the infuriated woman.
His hand touched the knob, nearly crushing it in his surprise as the doors leading to the small entryway burst open as Lilia's body flew through the air. Malleus looks on in mild horror as Lilia rolls on the floor, the older fae groaning as he slowly stood to his feet. With his sensitive hearing, he knew Hui-Yan was somehow not far behind.
“Should…I stay?”
Lilia laughed wildly, shaking off his jacket and loosening his tie as he cracked his neck side to side, “Worry not! I can handle her just fine…” Lilia dropped to the floor, positioned to start a sprint as he smiled to Malleus, “Say hello to Yuu for me, okay?”
Hui-Yan slammed the half-closed doors open, eyes blazing, “MALLE-UGH!”
Malleus watched with wide eyes as Lilia made a full tackle to Hui-Yan's stomach. The force of it enough to send them both flying through the doorway and crashing a good few feet down the hall. He stands in almost stunned surprise watching the two of them punch and tumble along the floor in a flurry of movement.
Well, it'd do him no good to stay there…
Malleus opened the door, casting one last concerned look to Lilia seemingly fighting for his life before he was off toward the school.
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Stepping through the mirror, Malleus stopped beside a group of passing beastmen. He could barely raise his hand in greeting before the cat beastman gained a look of pure horror. He grabbed at his posse, shoving and dragging the other stunned and fearful-looking beastmen with him into the Heartslabyul mirror.
“...” He huffs, turning away and continuing his journey toward the school. He thought his reputation had improved. Of course, it wasn't enough for students to openly walk up and speak to him, but he could at least wave without them running in fear of his stature. Maybe he also needed to speak to Riddle…
The short walk to the main building only soured his mood more, students left and right were practically diving to leave his line of sight. He could slightly understand why, his expression must have been terrifying to have a passing canine Ignihyde student completely crumble to his knees. The dog beastman simply muttering to himself ‘Game over, game over.’
If this was a game, Malleus was not enjoying it. Just as the school building came into view, a scent seemed to tickle at his senses. Inhaling deep it was as if time itself stood still. He stopped at the base of the stairs, eyes staring unblinking at the looming castle in front of him. The smell was sweet, like fresh ripe fruits ready to be plucked from branches and eaten. A spice of some type of pepper, spicy and a hinted flavor to accompany the fruit’s juices. A flower he could not name, but so delicate in its scent he always feared breathing it in too harshly. The scent of his child of man, his dearest love and future partner for life.
And the second scent, the one that coated that first like the inky black tar of blot. Iron, heavy, rusted, and fresh. Blood, he smelled his love and blood.
He barely noticed, eyes locked on the school,  how the clouds gathered and darkened the sky. He entered the building, his storm slowly overtaking the sun with volatile green flashes trapped inside it. He didn't even care for the fear that was thick in the air at his presence, he needed to trace the scent of his poor injured lover.
Following the trail, he swings open a door and growls as his eyes scan the room. Professors looked up in surprise at his entrance, mugs frozen in the air at mid-sip. But he doesn't find Yuu. His growl grew in severity, electricity crackling around his body before he turned and slammed the door back closed behind him, ignoring the sounds of panic from within the room. The scent still went further into the school, then the field, then back into the school. Each new location giving him no relief from the maddening scent.
Opening a door only to be greeted with an empty classroom, Malleus let out a completely horrific growl. The sound of it almost clicking in his throat as it echoed vaguely in the air. His horns felt warm, the ridges slowly gaining a violent green glow as his worry steadily morphed into anger.
“...can't let him find out.”
“I'm aware, Jamil, but Lilia isn't answering and I can't distract him if I don't know where he is.”
Malleus's eyes snap to the corner, standing still as both Jamil and Azul walked around the corner. Azul was typing furiously on his phone, panic clear in eyes and nearly running into Malleus's prone form. Luckily, Jamil was still aware of his surroundings to stop Azul from walking into the ticking time bomb that was Malleus Draconia. 
Azul looks up as Jamil tugs him back, eyes widening as what little color he had drained from his face. He's quick to plaster a wide smile on his face, clasping his hands together as if he was trying to pray for mercy, “Draconia-San! What a…lovely surprise! I wasn't aware you were…going to be in school today…”
“...” He couldn't smell Yuu on either of them, not more than he normally could. Not to mention the smell of blood was just too strong for Malleus to fully focus on his ‘lovers in law’. As they stood in silence, Malleus waited for them to answer his unasked question. When they didn't, he hissed out, “Where?”
Azul perks up with a questioning hum, ignoring Jamil’s frantic grip to the back of his jacket, “Where…is what, Draconia-San?”
“Yuu, where is Yuu?”
“Yuu! Ah…ahahaha…well…you see…maybe we could sit outside and speak about it-”
Malleus stood over Azul, leaning into the cecaelian's face as he whispered harshly, “Either tell me where they are or you will go missing next…”
Azul simply smiled up at Malleus, sweat doting his forehead as he struggled to think up an excuse to curb the fae's anger.
Instead, Jamil sighed, bringing both their attention to himself, “We don't know where Yuu is. They cut their last class.” He braces himself against the overwhelming force of Malleus's magic pouring out, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, “Draconia-Sama…It may do you well to calm-”
Malleus fully turns to Jamil, fangs bared as he bites out, “How are you two this calm?” his eyes quickly look back to Azul, the Mer seeming to fully lose the color in his face, “How are you not in just a state as I am? Can you not smell the blood?”
The hall was quiet, neither Azul nor Jamil suddenly having the will to look Malleus in the eye. The fae looks between them in mild confusion, surely they'd be just as worried as he was. He knew they were still in the budding beginnings of their own relationship, but they were all more than fond of Yuu. They should be worried…unless.
The anger that builds in Malleus was palpable, the ridges on his horns glowing even brighter as he realized, “You knew.” Their silence only showed how guilty they were, Malleus nearly roared as electricity cracked along his body, “You both knew, and didn't tell me!?”
“It wasn't from any malicious means!” Azul somehow kept smiling, though from the look in his eyes and the tremble in his hands, Malleus knew it was more a fear response than any type of mocking.
“Well, tell me now. Why is our lover harmed and neither of you aware of their location?” their new round of silence was truly an insult at this point. He took deep, controlled breaths. They weren't working, the lights flickering in and out as his anger rose, “Well?”
“...” Jamil spoke up again, closing his eyes as though preparing for his own death, “We were sworn to secrecy-”
The growl Malleus released fully echoed through the halls, deep and ancient-sounding reverbs sending students into blind panic. Lights flickered and flashed before bursting overhead and sending the halls into darkness. He didn't bother responding to Jamil’s ludicrous statement, brushing past the two and following the fading scent of blood outside.
Jamil released a breath, his hand still gripping to the back of Azul's jacket. Looking over he grimaced. Azul was trembling, a panicked smile still plastered on his face as his eyes watered behind his cracked glasses, “Azul?”
The Mer turned to Jamil, lips parting to manage out a terrified squeak.
He sighs, pulling Azul along to drop him off at the nurse's office.
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Bucchi tried to run from him, the hyena breaking out into a sprint as Grim did the second he locked his eyes on his form. He truly didn't blame him, Malleus could only think about the vision he made at the moment. Glowing horns, angered expression, the violent storm following his every step was also unhelpful. But Bucchi was nothing if not a survivor. It wasn't long after he had caught him that he stated Leona had taken Yuu home. That they were sick with some type of alien ailment.
As Malleus walked through the woods, his annoyance only grew with every step. He couldn't simply teleport to Ramshackle, the storm would easily destabilize without him to guide its path. While it could end the storm, it'd more likely cause it to go wild and turn into a literal hurricane. The campus may be filled with traitorous liars, but he couldn't allow such a fate to befall the local gargoyles. Many were far too old and fragile to withstand such a tempest…so walking it is.
The winds had easily blown away any scent of the blood, but the knowledge that Yuu was in Ramshackle was all he needed. Though he perks up, the smell of floral sand peeking through the winds. Bucchi had said Leona had taken Yuu home. Had he caught up to them? His expression fell when he only saw Leona walking the path. He huffs, eyes moving away and toward the peeking tip of Ramshackle's towers. Only to be hit in the chest with a powerful bolt.
Malleus slid back a few feet, momentarily stunned as he looked at Leona. The beastman kept walking toward him, pen glowing brightly grasped in his hand as he glared.
“Turn around. You're not seeing them like this.”
“Kingscholar, I truly never thought I would see the day you'd forfeit your life so easily…”
Leona has the gall to smirk, “Good. Cause I'm not, and you’re not going to Ramshackle throwing a fucking tantrum.”
The winds pick up around them, Malleus taking long strides to move past Leona, “You have no right to tell me I can't see them.” He dodged the second blast Leona sent his way. But the third was shot in quick succession the moment he moved to dodge the first, sending him another few feet back. He snarled, eye twitching as he snapped his head back up to Leona, “Kingscholar!”
“Draconia. Anyone ever tell you you’re a sturdy bitch?” he hisses, managing to dodge and fling up a shield against the onslaught of lightning. 
It was a dangerous dance for too long. On any other day, Malleus would find Leona's efforts to fight him adorable, admirable even, slightly impressive he had lasted this long one-on-one with him. But in that moment it only served to infuriate him further, willingly turning a deaf ear to Leona's words.
Leona huffed, a bead of sweat forming against his temple as he cast another shield for the dragon fae to slam into and lose speed. It wasn't enough to trap him, but he could still get a sense of enjoyment watching Malleus smack into the invisible walls, “Honestly. People have the nerve to call me stubborn when you can't even be bothered to listen.”
“Enough…”
A wave of lightning rushes directly toward Leona. The beastman clicks his tongue, changing his stance to crouch down and condense a shield around his smaller form. It was the only way he'd be able to make a spell strong enough to withstand the power Malleus threw around like nothing.
But Leona knew him getting hit wasn't Malleus's true goal. He simply needed his defensive range to shrink, giving him ample space to finally speed past him and to Ramshackle. He bit his lip, hating to leave his success to chance. He'd have one shot…
Malleus didn't care that Leona had managed to keep track of him through the spell and electricity. He didn't care about Leona anymore. Instead he readied himself to launch past the downed beastman, more than likely to pass by him and arrive directly to his lover's door. He dashed forward and his eyes widened as multiple things happened at once.
Surprisingly, Leona's shield drops in an elegant movement that redirects the still striking lightning away from his outstretched hand. Heartbreakingly, through the lightning strikes and howling winds, he hears the gut wrenching sobs of Yuu echoing from Ramshackle. Annoyingly, he feels Leona's hand tangle in his hair and pull hard. Managing to stop him mid sprint and to pull him off his feet, sending him falling to the ground hard on his back.
For a brief moment the winds stop, leaving only Leona's labored breathing and the sounds of distance rumbles. Malleus blinks, thoughts racing as he slowly propped himself up from the ground by his elbows. Yuu was crying. This illness was severe enough to make them cry. Kingscholar had thrown him. Yuu was alone and in pain and they hadn't even tried to call for him…others knew and he wasn't…important enough to know…Kingscholar had gripped him by the hair and tossed him like a sack of thorn forsaken potatoes.
Malleus blinks, looking up to the panting beastman standing over him. Only now did he realize how dark Leona's mage stone had become, how tired the other 3rd year looked.
Leona drops to a knee, hissing as he hit the dirt path harder than he was prepared for. Catching his breath he finally pockets his pen and rolls his sore shoulder, “Are you gonna fucking listen now?”
“They're crying…”
“Yeah.” Leona sighs, a hand pinching the bridge of his nose then dragging it through sweat misted hair, “As I've been telling you for the past twenty minutes. Yuu's going through some shit right now and isn't emotionally stable. And this-” he gestures to all of Malleus, ignoring the pout that the fae gains, “-is the last thing they should deal with right now…”
Malleus keeps quiet, glare slowly easing and casting his eyes to the ground. Without a word he pushes himself up, not offering a hand to Leona but watching in mild concern as the beastman groaned standing. He sighs, closing his eyes and only growing more distressed as his ears picked up more of Yuu's sobs, “Why didn't they call for me…?”
Leona shrugs, holding back his hiss as his muscles protest, “From what I can gain, this is a normal thing that happens. You know Yuu doesn't like talking about their original world. Not in a way that we'd want anyway…The heightened emotions made them realize some things and they're going through the motions.”
“They're crying as though someone is dead…”
Leona's eyes drift to the side, a soft sorrow in his own expression, an ear twitching as he listens to Yuu cry, “Yeah…crying alone helps sometimes when everything feels like shit. They'll be fine.”
“...” The wind blows, the hairs on the back of Malleus's neck raise as it brings a hint of blood back to his nose, “Did they say the…blood is normal?”
“Bleeding's the main function of it apparently…” Leona groans, stretching his back until a pop sounds, “Look. I'm not gonna hold your hand about this. Yuu's not feeling well and they'll tell you when they're ready to deal with your smothering.” Leona gives Malleus a single pat to his shoulder, gripping to push against the prone fae, “Go back to your dorm. If you go to see them right now, it's just gonna get you both into a tantrum…”
He didn't want to. He didn't want to leave, didn't want to listen to Leona's commands of all people. His dearest was hurting, alone…but they didn't call for him, they didn't call for anyone…
Malleus looks to the tips of the trees, Ramshackle's green shingles only gently bristled from the winds. Even with Yuu's sobs echoing in his ears, he finally lets Leona push him to turn around. He looks at the other 3rd year, voice soft, “They'll be ok without me…?”
Leona looks at him, sighing before he pats at Malleus's shoulder. The hand slips away and Leona walks ahead of him, “Send them a message in the morning. They'll call if they need someone. But, you can stand to get off your pedestal enough to ask for an invitation…”
Malleus watches Leona's tired body walk away, the beastman disappearing over the hill and through the trees. Giving one last look to the lone dorm, Malleus feels his heart go out to the heart broken person alone inside. He could still go, ignore Leona's efforts and simply walk to Ramshackle and ask to be let in. But…Yuu didn't want to see him nor anyone at the moment. It's why they hadn't called for him, why they sent Leona away. They wanted to be alone, and he couldn't fathom why…
But, he turned on his heel, walking the same path Leona had long disappeared from. As he walked the clouds thickened over head, darkening until a soft sprinkle had started to mist the campus.
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The scene Malleus walked into was…comical. But it did little to lift his mood.
Surprisingly the locks and barricades had been lifted from the dorm, letting him walk in freely to Hui-Yan being tugged by her arms by Sebek's friends Deuce and Jack. Silver and Sebek both held onto Lilia's legs, trying to pull their mentor from the death lock Hui-Yan's legs made around his throat. It was painfully counterproductive if Lilia's blue-tinted face was anything to go by. The one-on-one fight seemed to have pulled everyone in, Silver and the first years looking at least mildly disheveled and lightly bruised. On one of the couches sat Ace, head tilted back as Epel yelled at him to not tilt his head back.
“You're gonna swallow blood, you dumbass!”
The thunder crack makes everyone jump and freeze, eyes quickly turning to his figure in the doorway. Malleus looked to the ground, already fully shamed as Hui-Yan glared at him. He spoke clearly, bending at the waist to bow in apology to his dorm advisor, “I humbly apologize. You were right to try to keep me in the dorm and I feel deep regret at the trouble I've caused you…”
Hui-Yan doesn't reply, simply unlocking her legs and causing Silver and Sebek to fall to the ground mid pull. Lilia took loud gasping breaths as he choked on air. The woman stands, rotating her arms to easily remove Jack and Deuce’s hold. She points toward Malleus, eyes glaring.
“When I tell you to not do something, it's for the benefit of you and everyone around you.”
“I understand professor Hui-Yan. I apologize…”
His only reply was a stiff nod, Hui-Yan turning to the first years, “You lot are coming with me, I'm delivering you to either your housewardens or your dorm advisor.”
They clearly didn't want to leave, but none of them wanted to be Hui-Yan's next victim. Not to mention the concerned glances they all sent toward Sebek. Each of them flinching at Hui-Yan's demand of ‘Line up’. The first years slowly lining up to be lead out of the dorm.
Deuce whispered toward Hui-Yan, “We tried to help…”
“You failed. March.”
Malleus walked past the first-years, eyes downcast and missing the pleading look Sebek was sending them. He sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, ignoring the first-years all trying to state they were helping and shouldn't be punished. The bitter feeling in him grew as he realized that they knew and deemed it necessary to keep him in the dark.
The creaking echo of the large double doors shutting leaves the lounge empty, silent. Soon Sebek and Silver join him on the couch, Silver placing a comforting arm on his shoulder.
“Were you able to talk to Yuu?”
“...” he sighs, shaking his head and staring into the fire, “They're truly ill…though I must say I'm saddened by the fact…they didn't call for me…”
Lilia had made his way toward them, flopping onto the couch as he wheezed and coughed, “Oh dear. The poor thing really is sick? We should still go see how they're doing…but…maybe tomorrow. Rest is after all the best medicine for ailments…” Just like how his bruised neck will be healed by the next morning light…
Silver nodded, smiling in hopes it would help raise Malleus's mood, “You can check on Yuu tomorrow. For now they can simply rest and-”
“It's not that simple!” Malleus stood from the couch, the fire flaring up along with his emotions. The horned fae scowled, pacing along the floor with clenched fists, “It isn't a simple illness. It's something from their world that we seem to have no understanding of!”
Lilia trades a concerned look with Silver, quickly standing back up to try and lead Malleus back to his seat, “Is it serious? Do we need to send for one of the palace physicians? I know the faculty have decided to avoid any kind of hospital visits, but surely one of the-”
Malleus shakes his head, scowl slowly looking more like a pout, “The faculty knows, their friends know, Azul and Jamil know, Leona knew before me. It's disheartening Lilia! For Yuu to be affected by such an illness that makes them bleed and cry and not be even alerted!”
Sebek flinches, eyes quickly looking anywhere but at Malleus while Silver and Lilia's expressions turn even more concerned.
“Bleeding? They're bleeding!?”
Lilia felt a new wave of adrenaline coursing through his body. Brain racking through years of travel to pinpoint any diseases he came across that resulted in bleeding, “We can…we can go over and check ourselves!”
“No…”
“Malleus.” Lilia gripped onto the once again sulking fae, nails threatening to rip into his school jacket, “Malleus if this is as serious as you state, they need a doctor.”
“Leona has assured me it's ‘natural’. Yuu will have to suffer through this ailment and then they will be returned to proper health…” Malleus looks away, frowning at his reflection in the grand window. Raindrops hitting against the glass, he brings a hand up to touch the pane, “I'm just…upset. They've been dealing with this for who knows how long…and they never reached out to me for comfort or remedy.”
Silver frowns, “Oh…this may be why Yuu canceled your outings?”
Malleus sighs again. If that were true then Yuu had been dealing with this ailment since Saturday. Everyone knew since Saturday…Yuu's friends most likely found out on Saturday, if not on Sunday…Malleus looks outside, frowning as he takes notice of Sebek facing away from him in the reflection of the window. Odd. Sebek normally focused all his attention to him when he was in this foul a mood. Malleus also realized that Sebek had been strangely quiet since he came back from classes early. No…Sebek had been quiet that morning as well. In fact…when was the last time he heard Sebek's echoing call? It was sometime on the weekend he realized, around…Saturday.
Thunder roared, a bright flash of lightning hitting dangerously close to the window making both Silver and Lilia jump in poorly held in surprise. Malleus turned in time with the flash of lightning, catching Sebek's terrified glance before the half-fae quickly turned his head away. He walked to Sebek's hunched-over form, bending at his waist and staring unblinkingly into Sebek's panic-filled eyes.
“...Sebek. Is there something you'd like to tell me?”
Lilia and Silver watched in mute astonishment as Sebek's face slowly cracked, his lemon green eyes quickly filling with tears as his bottom lip wobbled, “I…I…” He turned away, thrusting his phone just past Malleus's face in an effort to not slam it into the fae's nose. “I'M SO SORRY, WAKA-SAMA!!!” Sebek couldn't speak in clear sentences, a jumble of sounds escaping him between his sobs.
Lilia quickly walked over, ready to try to console Sebek as Silver looked surprised. The 2nd year gazed at Sebek as if he was truly seeing him for the first time, “Sebek you know how to keep secrets? From Malleus?”
“Silver, now is…not the time to be focused on that.” Lilia gave a pinched expression, arms already filled with sobbing crocodile fae.
“You can't fault me for being surprised.”
“I can and I will young man. Sebek is sobbing his heart out and-” Lilia stops short, watching Malleus's expression change from empty to slowly enraged, “Malleus…?” 
Silver leans closer to Lilia, watching in mild fear as the ridges of Malleus's horn light up, electricity crackling around him wildly the more he read off of Sebek's phone. With what could only be described as a death rattle, Sebek's phone fizzes out and was crushed in Malleus's hand with a heavy crunch.
Other than the horned fae's heavy breathing and Sebek's subdued sobbing, the room was completely silent. Malleus manages to calm himself, the destroyed phone slipping through his fingers as a serene expression crosses his face. As though the very act of crushing something with his bare hands was the true relief he needed that afternoon.
Malleus turns his gaze to Sebek, “Apologies for your phone Sebek. I will ensure you are given a proper replacement on my own expense.”
With a wet sniffle, Sebek nods his head, still afraid to leave the comfort of Lilia's shoulder, “Thank you Waka-Sama…”
“You're still in trouble.”
“Understood Waka-Sama.” Sebek replies, shoulders already shaking with a new wave of tears choking him up.
“Now, if you'll excuse me. I must send a digital message to my lover to request a meeting tomorrow.” With a subdued bow, Malleus disappears in a flash of green light.
Lilia pats at Sebek's back, cooing lightly, “You're not in trouble Sebek, I assure you.”
“T-thank you, Lilia-Samaaaaaaaaaa.”
“Okay…let it out…”
Silver reaches over, a single hand patting at Sebek's hair in comfort, “Well, I'm glad to see I made the correct choice in not going to school today.”
“Silver.”
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abbyromanoff · 10 months
Note
omg i have one!! can u do like a soft one where wanda is like crushing hard on r but r completely oblivious bc she’s never been w someone romantically? and then wanda has that moment where she just confesses and it’s all dramatic like in the movies???? <33
LAST MOMENTS
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PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader
WORD COUNT: 1,670
WARNINGS: angst, heartbreak, depression, mentions of suicide, coma’s, confessions, happy ending, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
It was a cold night in the middle of Winter, your clock reading 12:46 AM, when you got the news. You never usually got calls, especially not at this time, so you were instantly plagued with worry.
Turns out you were right to fear as the woman on the phone who informed you of her role as a doctor at a nearby hospital was the one informing you of the tragic events. Your best friend Wanda had gotten involved in drunk driving and drove her car into a tree. The engine was burning and all she wanted to do was plummet into the warmth that she found to be death.
But a small part of her was still begging for life, a true life that held more meaning than just survival. You were the only promising thing left in her life, but she knew that was more likely to disappear with her growing feelings for you. She didn’t mean for it to happen, it’s not like she wanted it to either, but you were just different.
You weren’t like any ex or fling she had, you were her person and you had been for years now. She wasn’t going to risk losing you by expressing the deep love and passion she held for you, her best friend.
You rushed to the hospital, not bothering to change into something other than your pajamas, even if you felt goosebumps covering your skin. It was cold, freezing, but your mind couldn’t process that. All you knew was that you felt sick, you needed to make sure she was okay. If she wasn’t, you didn’t know how you’d live with yourself.
“Wanda Maximoff, what room is she?” The receptionist took in your disheveled features and quickly granted you the knowledge of her room number, only to then inform you that you weren’t allowed to see her just yet. You wanted to cry, to yell, but nothing came out. Her calls for your attention went deaf to your ears as you slowly took a seat, resting your head in your hands and nearly ripping your hair follicles out.
Minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days before you were granted permission to see her. She was still asleep as you begged her silently to awaken, but there was no response. And that continued for days.
Every day you’d leave for work, visit the hospital, and return home to get dressed and shower. You lacked every important aspect of your life, sleep, eating, but most importantly, Wanda. You didn’t care how long you went before you’d pass out or die of pure hunger, you couldn’t do a thing without her. She was your reason to keep going, what else was left if she wasn’t?
Then it became months, four to be exact. Your other friends would urge you to get some rest when noticing your eye bags and the lack of concentration you held at work. But you denied it, assuring them that you were fine and had to go, little did they know you were once again returning to your spot on the hospital chair beside Wanda’s bed.
The doctors were starting to lose hope and so were you, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that she would be okay. This wasn’t normal for this type of injury, the medical workers estimated that the longest she’d be in this coma was two weeks, and she was way passed that date. But you still refused to leave her side in hopes that it wasn’t all for nothing.
“Ms. Y/L/N, I know this must be hard for you to hear-”
“Hard? Really? That’s it? My best fucking friend has been stuck in that bed unresponsive for months and you’ve done nothing about it!” You yelled in the woman’s face, taking out every ounce of anger you held. It wasn’t necessarily her fault, but it was not like she was doing much to help her, not that there was anything she could do.
“I’m going to need you to calm down, Ma’am.” She calmly asserted, only frustrating you further
“How the fuck do you expect me to calm down when you’re telling me you want to kill her?” You were unreasonable at this point, but love did such cruelty to a person.
“That’s not what we’re saying, Miss. All I’m trying to tell you is that if she does not wake up we’ll have no choice but to pull the plug.” She spoke as if it meant nothing, like the life of one of the best people you knew had no meaning to her.
“She’ll wake up, I know it.” The nurse sighed and nodded with a tight-lipped smile before leaving the room, letting you be alone with the redhead.
“Please, Wanda, please wake up, I need you. I don’t think I can live without you.” You held her hand tightly, hoping for some sort of movement but receiving none. It haunted you through your nightmares and daydreams, there was no escape to the harsh reality. But you weren’t giving up on her, not yet.
Another month passed as your hope continued to fade along with your body. You were barely alive, every day your exhaustion and pity for yourself grew. You didn’t know how you were able to keep your job or your apartment that you never went to. Your boss had recognized your issues and gave you multiple weeks off at different points which you were beyond grateful for. You haven’t slept in your own bed since that night, it was either the one at Wanda’s flat or the uncomfortable seat they gave you here.
You were coming home from work, taking a quick shower, and grabbing a granola bar before quickly driving back to your newfound home. The lady at the desk knew you by name, that’s what happened when you came here daily. It was sad really, how you gave up your entire life because of the tragedy. But you knew you’d choose to ruin yourself for her over and over if you had the choice.
But this time was different, you still held your head low as you waltzed into the room, it was too hard to even look at her state. But when you heard a whisper of your name, your head shot up, and everything held in your hands dropped as you spotted her, she was awake.
“Wanda…” You ran over to her at record speeds, wrapping your arms around her tightly as you cried into her shoulder. You were so scared this was yet another dream that you couldn’t decipher as a nightmare or just another loss of hope.
“You’re awake.” You stated the obvious, the staff leaving the room to let you two be. You were almost jealous that they got to witness the moment she woke up.
“I was asking everyone where you were, I was so scared that you finally left.” The news shattered you and the way she spoke with such uncertainty only worsened it. You pulled back, grasping both of her tear-stained cheeks in your hands and rubbing softly with your thumb, She leaned into the feeling, a small smile quirking at her lips from the act.
“I could never give up on you, Wands, never.” She told you everything, how she was able to hear every word you spoke to her while she was asleep, and how it pained her to know how much trouble she caused you. Looking at your face, you looked horrible. You were still beautiful in her eyes, you always would be, but you looked so unhealthy, so different. She didn’t even know who was staring back at her.
You used to be a ball of joy wherever you went, radiating with happiness that could make anyone smile. But now? Now you looked as if you had been tortured for years, yet you were the torturer.
“I’m sorry-”
“No, no, don’t apologize, alright? You’re gonna be okay.” You quickly cut her off, trying your best to muster out a smile for her sake.
“But are you?” The question caught you off guard. Not once had someone asked if you were truly okay during this period of your life, most already knew the answer. Hell, you hadn’t even bothered to ask yourself that, you were too focused on if she would be okay. You were too worried about her to worry about you, something only pure love could cause. It was crazy how something that was described to be so magical could leave you barely standing.
“I have you, why wouldn’t I be?” She wiped the tears that had forced their way out of you. You tried holding back, but there was no stopping it now.
“Fuck, I’m- I’m sorry.” You challenged yourself to look away and hide, but she eased you back in her direction. There was no shame with her, there never was and that’s what you loved most about her.
“It’s my fault you’ve become so…different.” She acknowledged, blinking away the blur that started to appear in her eyes.
“No, it’s mine. You made a stupid decision but my reaction isn’t your fault.” She nodded, trying to move herself on the bed so you could sit with her. She just wanted to rest, and you would finally be able to do so knowing she would still be there when you woke up.
“I love you, Y/N.” She had repeated the phrase many times, but the both of you could feel the difference this time. There was more sincerity, more meaning to it. It wasn’t what you’d tell your family or closest friends,
“I love you more.” You uttered, staring at her lips as she did the same. You felt your lips brush against her soft ones and sucked a deep breath in, your eyes fluttering shut as you sank into the feeling. When you both pulled away after the difficulty to breathe increased, there were smiles planted on both of your faces.
“Not possible.”
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ladykailitha · 5 months
Text
Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 3
Happy New Year to all those that celebrate on Jan 1st! I didn't get as much writing done as I wanted during my break because my son brought home the flu and I've been sick for most of the winter break.
That said, I still have a backlog of at least a dozen chapters spread out among my WIPs.
I will still be posting Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursday just nothing will have a set day. Meaning you might get this story on a Tuesday one week, and Thursday the next. So on and so forth.
In this chapter I get heavily into gender dynamics and how sexuality would work with second genders.
Part 1 Part 2
***
Steve slid into bed with a sigh of relief. His scent permeated the bedding sending out a calming signal to both him and the alpha. He wrapped himself around the alpha and felt as he began to come out of the tranquilizer.
Dillon hummed happily. “You smell good.”
Steve chirped in response, rubbing his nose on Dillon’s scent gland. Again he sighed in relief. The actor’s scent was coming through. Weakly, but it was there. It was a dark woody scent. Like a forest after the rain.
“I’m going to take care of you, alpha,” Steve purred. “Make you feel so good.”
Dillon pounced on him and he laughed. “So eager. Take it slow, you’ve got plenty of time, sweetie.”
Steve ran his fingers up and down Dillon’s spine, causing the man to arch into his touch.
“Does that feel good?”
Dillon nodded, biting his lip.
“You don’t have to keep quiet, alpha,” Steve murmured. “No one is here to hear you but me.”
Dillon hung his head. “You don’t mind if make noise?”
Steve kissed his nose. “Did they make you keep quiet when they forced you to have sex with other alphas?”
He nodded, tears streaming down his face.
“Don’t worry,” Steve said. “You’re safe here. No one knows this address outside of Starcourt Services.”
Dillon closed his eyes and let Steve take care of him.
Over the course of the next three days, Steve found out that Dillon’s guilty pleasure was fruit leather. Not the overly processed kids stuff, but the locally sourced fruit snacks.
Steve practically cheered. It wasn’t protein bars, but it was something. He also found that Dillon would drink the shakes if Steve gave them to him, but wouldn’t chose them on his own.
By the time Dillon’s rut was over, Steve had really gotten to know him and was a little sad to see him go.
He wasn’t even told where Dillon would be going, but he knew it was for the best.
Steve showered and was dressed before Robin came back.
“Thankfully his rut didn’t last too long,” she said pulling up his schedule on his tablet, “you’ll have two days to do whatever before the charity ball for the New Yorker.”
Steve sighed in relief. “Thank god for that. First ruts are so hard.”
Robin nodded. “And it’s so rare for Starcourt to do them at all with the whole legality of it usually being alpha usually being fourteen to seventeen years old when they get their first.”
Steve sighed. “That too.”
Robin got a notification on her phone. When she checked it, she laughed.
“I just got something to absolutely make your day,” she said with a giggle.
Steve raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Tommy’s last rut servicing hit him with a mini-heat. He’s out of the game for the gala.”
Steve winced in sympathy. “Better him than me.”
Robin laughed again. “That’s why you have me, babe. If the alpha has a history of blocker breaking, they have to do a lot to convince me to let you service them. Starcourt has a perfect record of whisking away omegas that have gone into a heat as a side effect of the servicing, but I’m not willing to take that chance with you.”
“And that’s why all the other omegas are jealous you’re my handler,” Steve grinned.
“Damn straight.”
They high-fived.
“So what are your plans for today?” Robin asked, putting away her phone.
“Pedro is coming in today for a final fitting for the tux,” he told her and she added it to his schedule.
“I’ll find out the exact time and get back to you,” she said.
“Then I’m having dinner with Max and Lucas,” Steve continued. “They just got into town this morning and wanted to meet up while they had time.”
“How goes Lucas’s law suit?” Robin asked, adding it to the schedule.
“They think it’s about to burst the NBA wide open,” Steve said with a devilish grin.
She grinned back. “It’s absolutely ridiculous to have six different sports leagues.”
Steve nodded. “Even the division between beta teams is dumb. But they’re working on one problem at a time. Get it down to two and then work on destroying first gender bullshittery.”
Robin nodded. “It’s especially stupid because that’s how it is handled in high school. If schools can handle the raging hormones of presenting athletes then professional teams can handle level headed adults on scent suppressants.”
Steve nodded back. “That’s their argument.”
“Good luck to them.”
“And then I plan on doing some shopping,” Steve finished. “Dillon’s rut depleted my stock more than I would have liked.”
Robin winched. “Well, at least your next servicing isn’t until the end of next week.”
He nodded again. “I’ve been messaging the alpha couple, they seem sweet.”
Robin rolled her eyes. “I am so grateful to be a lesbian to first and secondary genders.”
“There are so many sexualities these days it can make one’s head spin,” he lamented. “Are you an alpha that likes alphas but only alphas of the opposite sex and does that make you straight or gay?”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I simplified it to ‘no dicks’, but I know it’s more nuanced than that for a lot of people.”
Steve scoffed. “Like me?” he huffed, flopping on the sofa and crossing his arms. “Bisexual first gender, but I’ve never been attracted to other omegas, so straight secondary gender. And there are a lot of people that would say I’m not queer because I prefer alphas.”
“Yeah,” Robin said. “And I swear it’s getting worse with non-binary and trans people added to the mix, too. And of course the rest of the queer community is thinking they’re safe from the hoopla, when we all know these ass clowns won’t be happy until they’re back to one man and one woman betas.”
“Which has never been a thing,” Steve grumbled. “It’s ridiculous.”
She tapped her tablet. “Anything else?”
He shook his head. “Just when Pedro is coming and my day is set.”
She shot off a quick text and got an immediate response. “He says at eleven. Is that okay?”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be fine. Gives me time to shop before dinner.”
“Done and dusted,” she said, putting away her phone and tablet. “We still on for platonic soulmate day tomorrow?”
He grinned up at her. “Always. We’re going to binge movies and eat junk food and lament about our love lives all day.”
“I’ll bring over some wine coolers and stuff to make cocktails,” she said.
He hopped up and gave her kiss on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”
“Have fun with Max and Lucas,” Robin said. “Give them my love.”
“Will do.”
*
Max looked around the fancy restaurant in awe. “I can’t believe you can just walk into a place like this and you instantly get a table.”
Steve barked out a laugh. “It’s not that easy. They had a cancellation and was able to get us in.”
“I bet they canceled the other reservation to give it to you,” Lucas said.
“Ooh...” Max said. “I bet they did, too. Steve Harrington, omega escort to the stars wants a dinner reservation at our restaurant, lets boot some D-list actor so we can have him instead.”
Steve laughed again. “Really, guys. It’s not like that. I’m not some Lonnie Hansen or Roxie, I’m barely a middle of the road escort as far as how much money I make.”
Max and Lucas shared a glance before they broke out laughing.
“Guys!” Steve protested. “I’m serious. There are other escorts that make way more than me.”
Max raised her eyebrow. “Name five other than Lonnie and Roxie.”
Steve counted them out on his fingers. “There’s Nicole Jawara. Koo Sing Ma. Mirabel Diaz. Uh...” He tapped his third finger. “Um...”
“Admit it,” Lucas said. “You can’t think of any more. And the ones you have named? They’ve all been in the business for longer than you and have had time to be higher paid. You rose through the ranks like a shooting star and everyone knows it.”
Steve blushed. “Yeah, okay. I love doing what I do, though.”
“Which is why we’re fighting the NBA about Lucas’s secondary gender. He should be allowed to play in the national league regardless whether he’s an omega or not,” Max said. “As an alpha I can do whatever the hell I want and only mildly looked down on because I’m a woman. But being a male omega makes it hard to do anything outside nurturing jobs.”
“Which I’ve never got,” Steve growled. “They don’t force female omegas into those jobs, just male ones.”
Lucas sighed. “Add to it being black and I’ve been fighting an uphill battle my whole life.”
Steve nodded sympathetically. “Tell me what else is up with you two. Any chance of bonding on the horizon.”
Max scoffed. “As if. We want to get this suit over with first. Then we’ll talk.”
“What about you?” Lucas asked. “Surely there have been alphas that have offered to buy your contract. You could settle down with one. Adopt pups.”
Steve ducked his head. “I’ve had offers. But as...” he huffed trying to find the right word. “Concubines? Sex toys for when their mates are pregnant or nursing. Not actual relationships.”
Max snorted. “I bet Nancy Wheeler tried.”
“Twice,” Steve agreed. “The only thing that would lure me from my job is falling in love with an alpha. And the chances of that happening are slim to none right now.”
Lucas sighed. “It’s because anyone you do meet is just going to want sex, huh?”
Steve nodded. “It’s really frustrating. But that’s why most of my friends are from before I became an escort. It’s just too hard to trust someone now a days. People wanting to be friends only want it for the perks,” he waved around him, “and not because they actually like me. People who want a ‘romantic’ relationship are one of three categories: only in for the sex. Only in for the sex and all the perks that come with being me. Or they want to shame and control me.”
Max and Lucas share a glance and have the decency to look mildly chastised. Because, yeah they used the perks of Steve’s job on more than one occasion.
Steve sighed. “So have you guys seen the latest superhero movie?” he asked, eager to move on.
Max and Lucas took it as the life line it was and starting chatting about what movies they’ve seen.
*
Steve loved his days were it was just him and Robin sans Starcourt business. Where they could just be two lovable goofballs and talk about their love life.
“Vickie is an omega, Steve,” she whined, ripping into her gallon sized bucket of Red Vines. “She’s not going to want to be with someone who can’t help her during her heats.”
Steve scoffed. “I’ve never had an alpha service my heats, and I’m fine. If she cares about you, she’ll use toys and heat aids. And don’t discount the pleasure of your fingers, babe.”
Robin made a gagging sound. “Don’t talk to me about sex, dingus. I don’t think I can handle it.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s literally my job, Robs. Like you can blow me off all you want, but you know you’re not going to get better advice from someone outside the medical field.”
“I hate it when you’re right,” she sighed.
“So you’ll ask her out this weekend?” Steve pressed.
“Yes, Steve,” Robin said, rolling her eyes “while you’re out there looking gorgeous on the arm of Nancy Wheeler, schmoozing it up with the rich people, I will be putting my heart on the line to ask a really cute girl out on a date.”
He kissed her cheek and stayed in her space. “And then when she says yes and you two are making out on her sofa, spare a thought for your poor single platonic soulmate who was soooo right.”
Robin pushed him away from her. “God, you are such an ass.”
“Yes, but it has been praised by many an alpha,” he teased, “so I love flaunting it.”
Robin threw her Red Vine at him.
He took a huge bite out of it and then grimaced. “I don’t’ know how you can stand eating these things. I think they taste like soap.”
“Just because your tastebuds are out of wack,” Robin said, snatching it away from him and munching on it, “doesn’t mean the rest of us should be forced to eat those tasteless sticks called Twizzlers.”
Steve pouted. “But I like the chocolate ones.”
“Further proof of your lack of taste, dingus,” she said. “It just means that this,” she held up her bucket, “is all mine.”
He just shook his head and grabbed the remote. “It’s a vampire romance, you ready for this?”
“Hell yeah!”
***
Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17
The Red Vine vs Twizzler debate was something that me and my best friend argued for years. And yes there was a period of time when Red Vines tasted like soap. They don't anymore, thankfully. But they did.
The TV show they are watching is "The Scholar That Walks By Night" a Korean drama my sister is obsessed with.
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